Oops.
Dearest Plague Rats,
Remember the vocal I told you about for “Girls Will Be Girls”?
The one that had to sound innocent while hiding something literally sharp?
It's done.
And last week, inside the Asylum Inner Circle's live session from inside Striped Stocking Studio, I comped vocal takes in front of humans for the first time. Raw vocal tracks. Unpolished. Every imperfection exposed. And then we listened to the full, unmixed track, all the way through, with the promise that we'll mix it live this coming Saturday, March 7th.
And that's where I expected the night to end.
But then Marc—who has a particular talent for pushing me past the edges of what I intend to share—sent me a text:
“Play them the ***** song.”
A song from a secret upcoming film.
One I wrote.
One I'm scoring.
One I'll co-direct and co-star in alongside Marc.
THE film.
I left my body and looked down at my hands clicking out of my Cubase session and opening the browser containing the private playlist only shared with those working directly on the film itself. The actors. The cinematographer. The choreographer.
And, with the Inmates promising not to share it outside the Circle, I pressed play.
The message of the song, the vintage synths—the words unlike any I’d ever written—filled the room.
The song ended. And everything was different.
They knew. I knew. Something had just crossed a threshold that couldn't be uncrossed.
And that's where I expected the night to end (again).
Then the playlist kept going.
The next song for the film started automatically—the title track, the theme for the entire movie. A song built from a synth I made out of my own voice. A song I had intended no one would hear until they were sitting in a theatre watching the end credits roll.
The first sparkling, slightly sinister arpeggios shot out like lasers through the studio speakers and I panicked.
This was the secret inside the secret.
“Should I stop it?” I shouted into the empty studio.
And before I could decide whether to press the spacebar or not, the first verse began, my voice burst forth in all its 80s reverbed glory, and it was too late.
Dizzy, my hands covering my face, I let the song play out. But I couldn't look at all the people on screen listening to it.
Finally, it finished. I blew a kiss and made my rat claws. I ended the livestream. I sat there in front of my keyboard, stunned.
Had something terrible just happened? Had something magical just happened? WTF just happened?
But then Marc called out to me, “You need to see what the Inmates are saying in the Live Chat.” And I knew then exactly what had happened.
My secret—this extraordinarily dark fairytale no one knew about, this world I'd been building for years in silence, when I was ill, when everyone thought I had vanished—had touched its first hearts.
My secret was loved and held and wept over by the very people it was meant for. And they would keep it safe.
The song had wanted to be shared.
It had found the right time.
The right place.
The full session—raw vocals and two unreleased songs from a project you didn’t know existed—lives in the Inner Circle archive. If you’re already a Founding Inmate but you didn’t make it live, log in to watch the replay so you’re all caught up for this Saturday’s mixing session.
And if you’re not inside the Circle and you’re wondering what sort of place contains moments like this—moments that are not supposed to happen, but simply cannot be contained—click below.
Because here’s the truth you might not know yet:
The Circle isn’t built for my spotlight.
It’s built for yours. Come see what I mean...
