I start tracks the way other people start conversations. Curious. Slightly overconfident. A kick that feels right. A bassline pretending it has something to say.
Then I listen. Properly.
Most tracks can’t handle that. They collapse the moment you take them seriously. They run, but they go nowhere. They make noise, but no statement. That’s not failure. That’s selection.
I throw tracks away because they lie. Because they only work as long as you don’t feel them. Because they’re polite. Because they’re clean. Because they want approval.
A good track pushes back. It annoys me. It stays longer than planned. It keeps me awake. If a track sounds finished after two hours, it’s usually dead.
I need friction. Dirt. That one uncomfortable spot. If I don’t find it, the track’s gone. No drama. No screenshots. No release.
Most sketches will never be heard. And that’s exactly how it should be. They existed so the real ones could happen. Rave isn’t an assembly line. Rein.Hart definitely isn’t.
I’m not building playlists. I’m building tension. And for that, you need to know how to let go.