I can very vividly remember the moment I wanted to start writing/making music. It was the summer of 2003. I was sitting in my parent’s basement looking up blink-182 guitar tabs on the family computer, because back then there was only one computer per household. I remember thinking, “These songs aren’t that hard to play. I could probably write music like this.” So… yeah, a little naive when it came to songwriting.
Fast forward a few years and the shine of learning other people's songs had started to wear off, so I started writing my own riffs. Not quite “songs” yet, but it was a start. I started my first band when I was 16, and continued playing in too many local bands until I was about 24. All ranging from indie rock to pop punk to southern hardcore.
I took a break from music at that time and tried working “real” jobs. They suck tho. I got back into writing and performing in 2019 with a band called Nicolas Rage. They had just signed with a small American label, which was my first time making music with a budget. That didn’t suck. We released an EP, then COVID hit and the band slowly fizzled out.
I had once again become disenchanted with music, but in a different sense. I didn’t like making music when someone else had majority ownership and a lot of input on the creative. I felt like I was probably done with releasing music and performing live. I kept writing though; I learned how to produce tracks, figured out how to engineer my own sessions and went down the rabbit hole of learning to mix music. I’d hoped I could turn some of those newfound skills into some sort of income. Turns out art is easy to hate when you only think of it monetarily.
Once again I was at a stalemate. I needed a creative outlet but wanted to feel free enough to create without expectations. Without caring if I could monetize it. Without it needing to fit within a certain genre.
This all led to me quarantining in a hotel during COVID. I started writing again, but this time it was purely for fun. Well, that, and to stay sane. My writing style had changed over the years of experimenting with different genres, and I finally had enough of a technical skill set to start putting the ideas together. This gave me the freedom to experiment with writing lyrics; something I had always left to the vocalists of the bands I was in. It’s become a source of self-reflection and a way to analyze how I interpret the world.
Now I’m happy to say I make music because I want to.
Peace out, bitches.
- Mark Wojcicki, Songwriter/Producer
My dad passed away when I was just a kid. I would look at photos of him playing guitar and my mom would tell me stories about what it was like to watch him perform live on stage. I know that I am drawn to music for this reason. As a way to connect with this man I have almost no memory of.
For years I thought if I immersed myself deeply enough in music I might uncover some secrets and understand him better. But as I got older I realized I was doing the equivalent of learning a new language in hopes of having a conversation with someone who was no longer there. No matter how fluent I became it would always be a one-sided conversation.
That realization, while painful, sparked something in me. If music couldn't bring me closer to him then I would need to find another reason to keep playing. So I made friends with other people that spoke the same language.
The moment I knew I wanted to create music was the first time I played music with a group of friends that wasn’t a cover song. It was garbage. We were young. But it didn’t matter. Exploring this shared language had unexpectedly taught us how to connect with someone in the present.
One of my greatest joys has always been the moment where an artist clicks for me. After several attempts of not understanding them, something shifts. A lyric lands differently. A chord progression sweeps you off your feet and you fall in love with their unique way of expressing themselves. Their music, lyrics, videos, album production, art, style, etc. All of it. It begins to feel like magic. There's a connection there too, albeit on a different level. One that transcends distance and time. But it only moves in one direction.
I still struggle with this obsession over the past. Hell. That’s what all my lyrics are about. But those high school jam sessions in my buddy’s basement helped to shape this skill for me. I write to reflect, but I perform to grab hold of the present. If only for a moment. Maybe that’s what he did too.










