Tone Glow 133: Nourished By Time
An interview with Marcus Brown of Nourished By Time about his approach to songwriting, his obsessive tendencies, and the Baltimore Ravens
Nourished By Time
Nourished By Time is the latest project of Baltimore native and Berklee graduate Marcus Brown. What began as a trickle of song uploads following Brown’s return to the East Coast turned into a steady stream as his music garnered an unexpected following in the United Kingdom. This culminated in two releases for the London-based label Scenic Route: the Erotic Probiotic 7-inch (2022) and his debut LP, Erotic Probiotic 2 (2023).
Earnest and unvarnished, Brown’s vocals are often compared to The Blue Nile’s Paul Buchanan, though they land somewhere between Cody Chesnutt and Joe Jackson for me. Compositionally, his weapon of choice has lately drifted away from guitar, firmly situating his present mode in the private press tradition of drum machine, synthesizer, and slightly reverbed vocals. The songs are unmistakably “big,” but there’s a classic intimacy to the result; the listener's position feels closer to that of a voyeur than a victim of balladeering bombast. Now signed to XL Recordings, Nourished By Time’s next EP, Catching Chickens, comes out this Friday, March 22nd. Last week, we connected over Zoom to chat about french fries, being late to the party, and our memories of the Michael Jordan Wizards.
Corrigan Blanchfield: I was looking at your old Bandcamp, and the bio or whatever was “Riley With Fire is Marcus Brown compartmentalizing his identity crises into 4 minute songs.”
Marcus Brown: That’s funny. So Riley With Fire, that was my first project that I ever created. I was like a sophomore in college. It was really my first time writing songs, I was kind of just experimenting a lot. A lot of that music was really inspired by Foxygen, Mac DeMarco; there were a lot of time changes. It was more so from Foxygen like Take the Kids Off Broadway (2011), their first album, and Youth Lagoon. I was learning about synthesizers… it was probably the most free I had been just because I didn’t know anything (laughs). I didn’t know if it was good, I didn’t know if it was bad, it was just really fun. And then I had a band, we played one show at Bard College. We drove down from Boston, it was me and this other dude named Chase—we just packed up and did a show. But yeah, it was really fun. I ended it, like, probably after I graduated from college because I started Mother Marcus when I moved to LA, but I never really did anything with that. I killed that, and then I started Nourished By Time right before I left LA. But all of ‘em were necessary, they all had to live and die to create Nourished By Time (laughs).
I guess the “identity crisis” part was more so, just… it’s pretty simple, music is just an outlet for whatever I’m going through. A lot of Erotic Probiotic 2 (2023), I’m not really talking about any specific one thing. I’m more so dealing with what I was going through at the time; I’m not really telling anyone, like, how to be. “Shed That Fear” was a mantra to myself, it’s all about my internal struggles. That’s kinda how it’s always been. In school we would do these different songwriting lessons and shit, like “write from the perspective of a squirrel” or something. That never really did it for me, telling stories didn’t really do it for me. I think that’s why I like hip-hop so much, because it’s so direct and it’s always so personal. I was just listening to Jay-Z, he’s probably the best rapper because of his ability to just say things in such a casual way, say really interesting, introspective, judgmental things. That’s the aspect I try to bring into Nourished By Time, but still have it just be whatever I want to do.
Right, introspection through observation is like the skeleton key for rapping and singer-songwriter stuff.
Exactly, yeah, the Larry David (laughter). I’m a leftist, I just don’t really spend time compartmentalizing that—I just know that’s who I am. I’m not really interested in swaying people, I just know that’s how I see the world. It just goes back to, the more I am myself, the more other people will want to be themselves. People who are fans of me, they’re connecting with energy. I think at the heart of my music, it’s very Baltimore… less in the sound, it’s working class music. That’s who I want to like my music, I don’t care about where you come from or your beliefs. We’re unified by class deeper than we are other things, at least initially. There’s people who only love “Daddy” and just stop there, and that’s totally fine, because that song does something for them that maybe the rest of my music doesn’t do. And there’s people who don’t like “Daddy,” who don’t think that’s one of my best songs, and I agree with them.
But it’s not super Baltimore-coded—it’s as Baltimore-coded as The Wire is, whereas The Wire was just explaining to you the blueprint of a post-industrial society. The Wire could’ve been in Detroit, it could’ve been in fuckin’ Philly, it’s all the same story—a city that wasn’t ready for the next phase, and didn’t prepare its people for it. You have all these people that are skilled in something that nobody needs anymore, so what happens to a city after that? That’s kinda what I’m trying to do in a way. But also, I don’t want the burden of every album having to be political and shit. I just want to do whatever I want to do. The next album might be about love, to be honest, because at the end of the day it’s just what I’m goin’ through. And I’m just going through different shit now.
Looking at your Twitter, I was picking up this familiar tension between being really into America and desperately wanting to leave America.
Yeah… because I love American bullshit. I’m a real American (laughter), but it’s like… superficially, I love this country. But I don’t love this country as a principled stance—go any deeper and it’s pretty abhorrent and embarrassing. But that’s the entire Western world, honestly. After going on my first European tour, it all kind of feels the same. Different languages but the same structure. You have the same power levels and shit, so it’s cool, but if you think about it too hard it’s not very cool. Yeah, I like America, but I also think… like, it’s over, it’s all over (laughter).
I say this thing, and people think I’m joking, but I entered the music industry and the party’s been over for probably ten, fifteen years. I’m just now gettin’ in, and it feels like when you go to the third place, you’re partying and you go to that third party that’s just, like, horrible (laughter). That’s kinda how it feels. And that’s just everything—airlines, journalism, everything is crumbling because everything is crumbling. It’s just how you react to it, I guess.
What’s the status of your move to London?
I don’t know, man, I don’t know. I’m about to go on tour in June through August so I feel like it’s not a good time to move. I was gonna move to New York, but I’m pretty stuck. I’ve never had so much freedom, I guess, so it’s pretty paralyzing, and I kinda just want to make music. Right now, I just wanna make music and rest. I’ll probably go to New York for a year or something just to see what the fuss is about. It feels like a scam though, I don’t know. I remember New York from when I was a kid, it had this feeling, and it doesn’t really have it anymore. It’s not as weird as it used to be, or it’s weird in a nasty way. It’s sad now. I don’t know, I’m just talking shit.
You’ve stayed in a weird cross-section of US cities—Baltimore, Boston, and LA?
I was only in Boston for school, then I was only in LA because I was watching a bunch of David Lynch movies (laughs). I was dating a girl at the time who really wanted me to move to New York, and I just did not want to move to New York. LA was dope. I love LA, at the time I was just very poor and very confused. I was making a lot of music, but I wasn’t doing anything. I was going to work and going home and making music. Hanging out with some friends and talking to girls and stuff. It was really fun, because it’s such a strange place that you get to do things and meet people, live out certain fantasies that you might have wanted to live out. It’s a very busy place, I feel like it was built on ancient burial grounds or some shit because it has this very otherworldly aspect to it. I’ve had experiences there that felt like I was in the twilight zone, and I love shit like that. I kinda just ran out of money, and that’s when I drove across the country back to Baltimore. So I was born in Baltimore, went to Boston for college, then I went back to Baltimore, worked at a bookstore, saved up money to move to LA, moved to LA, stayed there for two years, then I moved back right before COVID. And then I got stuck in Baltimore for, like, three years.
Do you feel pretty tied into a scene there?
No, not at all. It’s a mix of me being cripplingly anxious for a good part of my adult life, and then a mix of… the Baltimore scene is really cool, a lot of the artsy music people that live in Baltimore aren’t from Baltimore; they’re from the surrounding areas of Maryland or the DMV. I’ve played shows in Baltimore; I’ve played Current Space a bunch and a bunch of random spots, but I wouldn’t say I’m well-known in Baltimore. I do want to fix that and work on it, be more in the city, but I also don’t really care that much. If I do it, it’s gonna be because I want to do it. But it’s a cool scene; for me, it’s just home. It’s where I go to recharge and feel normal, but then it gets to the point where I have to leave. Most of my friends left, they’re all gone. It’s definitely a cool scene, I just wish it were a little more Baltimore-centered.
There are a bunch of cool artists in Baltimore, like Tomato Flower, Butch Dawson are really from Baltimore. There’s a bunch of photographers and visual artists who are doing cool shit. There’s always been a bunch of talent, I don’t know what it is. But I’ll always love Baltimore. I’ll always protect it (laughs).
It also sucks, because I don’t need to move to New York. Maybe to further what I’m doing, but to get on you don’t need to move to New York. I have friends who are still trying to break through in New York, and I did it literally from Baltimore. I kinda did it from London too, but it started here, literally in this room. It’s kind of just about the music at the end of the day.
My big takeaway from seeing friends do it is that you better already be on.
I was really lucky, like last year all my shows were other people asking me to open or do something. I didn’t have to do much myself, I was kinda placed in the scene in New York. I met Shane from Chanel Beads pretty early on, and he was already pretty plugged in.
You’re very much tied into this kind of outsider, left-field pop tradition for me, but I was thinking about that and… there’s not really an “inside” anymore.
That’s true, it’s a strange time. The streaming model eats a lot more, and it’s never satisfied. The previous model wasn’t great — it was gatekeep-y, it was slower, more expensive. There were tons of problems, but this model is new and it doesn’t work for anybody. It really only works for the streaming companies. Labels are still making money, but I don’t really know how (laughs). Even with Spotify now, I’ll talk to label people and they’re talking about monthly listeners. It blows my mind that a private corporation can have so much sway over an entire industry, and they’re just like “okay, this is the new thing.” Even YouTube, a million views is much harder to come by now than it was ten years ago. In America we have so much smoke and mirrors and, like, fuckin’ day-glo and “aaaahhh” hiding the real truth, but with streaming we’re seeing the reality of how easy it is for corporations to just change everything.
I remember, and this is completely off-topic but it is on subject, there was this story about the McDonald’s french fry being made with beef tallow, right? I think I read it in a Malcolm Gladwell book, but this rich dude had a heart attack or something and he got mad at the fast food places. So he spent millions of dollars on this campaign against all the fast food companies, telling them to change their recipe. And it worked! Because he had so much money that he could do this campaign forever if he wanted to. It’s just an example of a private entity having way too much power and control over an industry. And, they changed the fries before I was born, so I’ll never get to know what the fuckin’ fries taste like (laughter). So it’s just frustrating, on many different levels (laughs).
I read in some other interview that a lot of what’s on your Bandcamp right now was written during a process of radicalization and you learning more about the world. What do you think had kept you kind of insulated in that regard beforehand?
I don’t know, just everyone who grows up in America—their parents are either liberal or conservative, and both of ‘em are just wrong in the same ways. I happened to grow up in a liberal household, follow the rules and that kind of thing. For me, I just naturally never cared about religion or politics. I was always fascinated by religion—I love the stories, and I love what it does to people, but me myself, it doesn’t really do much. Maybe Islam does more for me, just out of curiosity.
I think I went to college, and a lot of things started happening that opened my eyes. I got accused of robbery at the mall, just pure racism. I was like “oh shit,” and right after that Trayvon Martin, Mike Brown, all these kind of moments happened. And then you remember, you grew up in Baltimore and you’ve had run-ins with police and shit. Just bit by bit—I never really believed in it, but I had this teacher Larry Watson in college who was like the final blow to the veil of perception that’s put on us. The radicalization shit is just a never-ending thing, that just makes you feel more lost in a way (laughs).
On the compositional front, when did you start to think about songwriting as opposed to straight performance?
I started writing songs after my grandfather died, I was like 16. I tried to write a song and it was so bad, it just started the ball of yarn. After I went to school for music, I was reminded that I had only been playing guitar for a year and a half when I got in. All the rest of the kids had been playing since they were five and six, they were gonna beat me every time. I didn’t really care about guitar as much at that point, it was kind of a natural progression. The music was always really easy for me, producing and guitar just clicked. The part that was hard was coming up with melodies and lyrics, and that was fascinating to me. The gratification that I get from finishing a song, still, is better than any drug I’ve ever taken.
I’ve just been chasing that, and it’s just fascinating because it’s literally me speaking through a way that I could never speak through my mouth. I’m a really dramatic person, so it’s perfect for me. I’m just making theme songs for my emotions (laughter). I’d always been good at writing, too. I hated school, I was horrible at math, but I was really good at the language classes and I was good at history. I could write pretty well, but I knew I didn’t want to be a writer. I could be a poet, maybe, but it was too much structure. I was never good at reading music or anything like that—I know how to, but I was never good at it.
Was that first song a direct reaction to your grandfather passing? Like, were you specifically trying to commemorate him in song or just moved to create something?
Yeah, I was really sad. That was the first thing I thought of, I wanted to write a song about him. And yeah, it was so trash (laughs). It was so bad! That was when I realized oh, this is a muscle just like guitar is. So many people think oh, I’m really good at guitar, but ask Yngwie Malmsteen or Steve Vai to write a song and it’s probably gonna sound not great. Outside of, like, “Tender Surrender” or some shit like that. But once I realized that, it was like an itch that I couldn’t stop, and still kinda can’t.
That’s dope though, you were like “well, can’t send him out with this shit—I gotta get good.”
Yeah bro, he would hate this. He would not like this.
You mentioned picking up guitar fairly late, but you’d played instruments before, right?
I was in the marching band, but not really. I played bass drum in the marching band, but that was the first thing I’d ever played, actually.
You went to Berklee off of a year and half of guitar?
Yeah dude, just made it (laughs).
How’d you end up at guitar? How were you getting exposed to music?
Like, an iPod shuffle (laughs). My parents played a lot of music, my dad plays bass and he had an acoustic guitar just laying around. I would play it for fun, but I didn’t know how to actually play it. It was when Michael Jackson died, they were playing a lot of videos of him that summer, and that summer I was just home watching Jerry Springer and Maury all day (laughs), so it was that and like The Jacksons: An American Dream (1992) movie, that really bad Michael Jackson movie (laughs).
But yeah, they were playing the Slash video, “Black or White” or something like that, and I remember being like “oh, that dude looks fucking awesome.” So I just looked up Slash, I got really into Guns N’ Roses, and that led you to Nirvana, and then I found out about Jimi Hendrix—that’s when everything really clicked. I went down to my dad’s basement, I would hang out in his room because it was really quiet and play, and then I popped one of the strings. My dad found it and was like “oh, did you pop one of my strings?” and I was like “yeah, my bad.” (laughter). He was like “do you wanna learn how to play guitar?” We went to a pawn shop and got a guitar, started taking lessons.
I was just obsessed—I have obsessions, man, I get really obsessed over shit and time goes by really quickly. I obsessed over guitar for that whole time because I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with my life, really. My parents are making me go to college, I’m gonna try and pull a fast one and go to music school. I was either gonna drop out of York College of Pennsylvania or go to music school and try to do that. I was not gonna be good at anything else; I didn’t have the passion for anything else. I would’ve been a barber, definitely, because I was training to be a barber before COVID.
Did you have any pre-musical obsessions?
Basketball, or all sports. I used to teach tennis, play basketball, and then I got cut from the team. But cuttin’ hair, I used to cut my dad’s hair when I was in high school. I would have these hyper-fixations where I’d get really good at random shit and just drop it. Cooking, I was really obsessed with cooking for a bit. Dropped that, I don’t really care about… I’ll cook to eat, you know, but I don’t really care about that. Basketball, I’ll still watch it but I don’t really care about that. I got cut from the team, that helped not caring about it (laughs). But yeah, music was the only one that stuck, I think, even when things got really bad. I think meeting other people, making friends… I think I was just meant to do music, honestly; I think I was meant to write songs, specifically. I stopped caring about guitar as much, but I still cared about songwriting.
That’s a nice thought, this insane orphaned passion trying to connect to the right outlet. It can be kind of alienating, being into something and then you come across these people that are really, like, they’ve found their thing. I love basketball, but day one I was not gonna be in the NBA.
Right, same same (laughter). For sure, because I don’t really play it anymore. For me, if I can’t do it at the highest level, I don’t want to do it. But that’s stupid, because I love the sport. That’s actually when I stopped liking it as much, when it got all serious and political. Baltimore, they were trying to find the next Carmelo Anthony. They still haven’t found him (laughs), but it was a funny era for basketball.
I was just reminded, talking about losing interest in stuff—chasing that feeling, how do you call a song finished?
That’s a good question—my dad asks me that sometimes, and I don’t really know. It’s just a feeling. My process is that I scan through the songs a million times anyway, and I just feel it, the weaker parts. When there’s no more weak parts and it just feels complete, it feels like something that I would listen to. I have a certain standard, with Erotic Probiotic 2, I want the music to evolve but I want the quality to stay high. When I feel like the production is good, the lyrics are good, the melody is alive and it feels like a part of the song. Those are all things that I’m just thinking intuitively; I don’t have a checklist, it’s just some shit you know. And sometimes they don’t fit that, and it still works. I do think that it’s gotta have a good intro—the introduction of a song is super important, especially now that everyone’s attention span is dwindling. But also at the same time, shit, you look at André 3000 and that’s such a mindful album. I love it, sometimes it’s okay to challenge the listener and not give them what they need. I remember that was what Yaeji told me: she was like “you gotta make ‘em earn it.”
Do your parents like your music?
Yeah… I think so. I don’t know (laughs). I think they like it, I know my mom… my dad’s more of a jazz guy. I think he appreciates it a lot, he said he liked “Quantum Suicide,” which I thought was kinda funny. I think he knows it’s good music, but it’s not his preferred style. I think my mom just is really happy for me, she’s just gonna support me. It could be horrible and she would support me. But yeah, I would say yes.
I have a jazz dad also, and yeah if I play him some music that’s obviously not his thing he’ll be like “oh, this is a cool arrangement, I like this open 7th.”
Exactly, there’s things you can appreciate. But if I was like “be doo dap,” some Wes Montgomery, Grant Green shit, he’d go crazy. But I think he’s proud of me because I’m doing music as a career—it was cool, they got to see me perform in Paris. I think that was a cool moment for them. And yeah, because since I’ve been 17 I’ve been doin’ it my way. They’ve kinda taken a backseat and just let me figure it out. So it’s pretty validating for me, and I think it’s cool for them too. They kind of stopped parenting me the same way after seventeen, and I was like “okay cool.”
What’s your experience of music press been like? You had a pretty informal rise to recognition.
It’s been pretty chill, I just say how I feel in general. I think I see it as a creative medium, because things have changed so much—artists have more say in how they’re perceived and how they come across. I’ve been meeting really cool people, really cool writers; I get sad when I see stories about Pitchfork, all these other publications getting bought out and changed. Because it’s an ecosystem; there’s artists, there’s DJs, there’s labels, distribution, there’s record stores, there’s writers. It all has to work, we all need each other, and we all have brains that are specialized for our craft. I respect everyone’s craft the way I would want them to respect mine… it’s the same thing we were talking about before—I’ve seen really good writers, and I’ve seen the machine. For a long time people were just cutting and pasting shit from the Pitchfork Rising interview. I was like “oh, that looks familiar” (laughs).
I think earlier it was harder, because certain people took me seriously, and others… I always joke because they’ll make you do playlists and shit, they’ll have you do the entry-level stuff. I’m still growing as an artist, in my head I’m way up here, but my reality is still catching up to how I see myself in a couple years. But I been havin’ fun—none of this stuff is really hard to me, to be honest, and I feel really confident. I guess I know what I want in this industry, and it’s not about fame or money… it’s more about stuff that’s gonna happen after I’m dead. I wanna be one of the greatest artists of my generation, and that’s just a personal thing I’ve always wanted since I was a kid. I don’t really feel like I’m competing with anybody, I’m competing with me. I just want to outsell, or outperform, or make a better song than what I did previously.
How are you accounting for your posthumous legacy?
I mean, I just see it as needing to live my life as well as possible. It’s like, if I do my job correctly the music will live on for a long time. That’s pretty much all I mean—everything I’m doing for the next three to five years is for the music, and I just want to go as hard as possible so that there’s no what-ifs. I’ve already accomplished my dream, so this is just like after you beat the game, and you’re just playing around. But at the same time, this is also like the NBA draft. I was just drafted, I’m a rookie. Most athletes, their first three seasons aren’t great. The NBA is a lot to adjust to, and that’s kinda how I see it as. But the balance of me being hyper-confident in myself, and the fact that I have a lot to learn still; I’m pretty new.
But also, I think I have a lot to teach. I’ve been in this industry long enough to know where I can compete, and I think I can compete at a pretty high level. You do sessions, and a lot of people are really good producers, but they don’t know how to play instruments. That’s a real block man, you can be really creative but you don’t… you can play a chord but you don’t know what the notes are. It’s the simplest shit in the world, but so much about music theory is so gatekept and so corny (laughs). It’s really simple, it’s seven notes that you have to remember at one time. Pick one, three, five, seven and you’ve got a chord, just keep doin’ that. And it goes both ways—people who are really good musicians don’t know how to produce because they’re so egotistical about being a musician. Simplicity is what makes a beat good, no one really likes beats where there’s all this shit happening. All the beats off like Reasonable Doubt (1996) and The Blueprint (2001) were pretty simple. Kanye’s beats were pretty simple, Dilla was pretty simple (laughter). Everything that was there had a purpose, though, and that’s the craft. If you take one thing out, it’ll mess the beat up. That’s the goal.
As an aside, how are you feeling about the Ravens this year?
I’m feeling really good man! Feelin’ really good, this is the year.
I thought it already was the year, I was hurt.
I did too, I did too (laughter). Yeah, that was pretty sad. I was really upset at how we went out. I couldn’t stop watching analyzation of that game, I was just watching anyone who had something to say about it, like “oh my god.” But no, this is our year man, this is our year. Patrick Queen, can’t believe he went to the Steelers, that hurts. But it’s cool, we got Roquan [Smith], Roquan was a little better anyway. But I feel good, we might never need to pass the ball (laughter). We might not need any receivers, Odell can do whatever he does. He was good, but… I feel really good about Flowers, Zay was good. I think we just have a young team that showed our inexperience. We shot ourselves in the foot, and the coaching man. If we just stick to what we do all season, we’ll be fine. Lamar’s gonna have help for the first time. I’m sad to see Gus Edwards go, Gus held us down. I hope JK Dobbins can keep healthy, I pray for him. He’s so good when he’s healthy man! Keaton Mitchell, fantastic.
I’ve never gotten over how when I was eight I decided to be a Washington fan. Here’s a good reference point, actually—I’m from the Michael Vick part of Virginia. So football to me is just how much can you make me feel like I’m eight and watching Michael Vick again. And then Michael Vick the sequel comes along, and I could’ve just kept rooting for the Ravens the whole time.
We never really play you guys, it’s kinda funny. We probably play you in, like, preseason. But we never really play the, uh, the Washington Football Team. How are you dealing with the name change?
It sounds like the new owner, the [Philadelphia] 76ers guy, hates the name, which is a good start. I was rockin’ with Washington Football Team, but if it has to be a real name we’ve gotta go Washington Warthogs. I wanna be the Hogs.
The Hogs, I like that, I like that. To be honest, once you guys went to the Commanders, I was like you should’ve just stayed the Washington Football Team.
It could’ve gone so much worse though, the other final options were, like, the Washington Monuments. The Washington Admirals or whatever. The hole goes deeper.
Yeah, yeah… I like the Hogs. The Hawgs! It needs to be dirty, it needs to be “ugh, football!”
It’s the same shit in the NBA though, I’m a huge Wizards fan.
Oh really, are you? You and my dad would get along. I was a big Wizards fans during the Gilbert Arenas, that early 2000s team. Caron Butler, Brendan Haywood, Antawn Jamison, Antonio Daniels. I remember that, and then after Gilbert got caught with the gun I kinda fell off a little bit.
But yeah, being a Wizards fan and now a Nuggets fan, the two don’t conflict at all.
(laughs). Yeah, you’re fine. You guys might not lose for the next three years, to be honest. You got a really good team, it’s kinda scary. Shout out to Jokic. I like the Heat, I was never a Wizards diehard fan. I was like a player guy, but the Heat were always… when Shaq came to the Heat with Dwyane Wade, I’ve been fans of them ever since, up to now. They always have really hard playing dudes, their style is always really good basketball. They’ve always done a lot with a little. Except for when they had… (laughs) Lebron James, and literally everything. But with Jimmy Butler, he’s such a good player, and an interesting player. At first glance, it’s not a super packed team.
For me, I think I was just nine and everyone at school was like “yo Michael Jordan’s coming to the Wizards.” So obviously I had to get ahead of the game on all the championships we were about to get.
I saw him, man! That was one of my first games. I remember hearing he had a gambling debt to pay off, and that’s what brought him back. He ruined his legacy but he was still important—he was still playing better than the average player, he made the all-star team, I remember him getting mad at other players because he was playing harder than them, and they were half his age. Those were weird times, man.
Besides that, though, anything else on your mind?
Just my EP coming out, and where I’m gonna live. (Singing) Where I’m gonna go, who I’m gonna be (laughs). I’ve just been writin’ a lot of music, honestly. I’ve got a bunch of new gear, just bought a Voyager and a nice new microphone. Just been chillin’, I was in New York for the first two months of 2024 so just getting back to Baltimore. Been cool just to hang with family, hang with my little brother.
Nourished By Time’s new EP, Catching Chickens, can be purchased at Bandcamp and the XL Recordings website. More of Nourished By Time’s music can be found at his Bandcamp page.
Thank you for reading the 133rd issue of Tone Glow. If you draft me, you’ll never regret it.
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