Buds of Creativity

Now that I’ve walked you through the technical side of how I make a track, it’s time to look deeper into what really fuels my creativity—the things that shape my sound and drive my ideas. It’s not just about the tools or techniques; it’s about the raw, often unexpected sparks that push me to create.

AI Generated Image: Buds of Creativity

At the core of my process lies a blend of three distinct yet connected elements: cannabis, humor, and wordplay. They’re not just things I turn to when I need a break or a laugh; they’re the soil, water, and sunlight that nourish my creativity. I’ve always viewed the creative process like tending a garden. It starts with planting seeds—those small ideas that might one day grow into something much bigger. Some sprout instantly, others take their time. Some wither. The trick is knowing when to give them room to breathe and when to step in and guide them.

Cannabis has always been one of my greatest allies in that cycle. It helps me relax and clear my mind, dissolving the self-imposed boundaries that can stifle creativity. It’s both a metaphor and a muse—something that helps me let go of structure and embrace the chaos. Often, that’s where the best breakthroughs happen, in the moments when I stop overthinking and just allow the ideas to flow.

Then there’s humor—the sunshine that keeps everything alive. Music doesn’t always have to be serious. In fact, some of my best ideas have come from moments of pure silliness. Humor lightens the mood in the studio, loosens creative muscles, and reminds me to enjoy the ride. One night, Mike and I had plenty of cannabis and even more laughter, but absolutely no wordplay. We were playing Mafia II and was unable to complete the tutorial because we were laughing too hard to drive straight, we ended up abandoning it entirely. It was ridiculous, but it taught me something: creativity thrives on balance. Too much of one influence and not enough of another, and you’re lost in the fog.

There’ve been plenty of other moments like that. I once made a whole comedic skit about someone struggling with diarrhea, complete with water bottle splashes, raspberries into the mic, and dramatic grunts. It was as crude as it sounds, but I mixed and polished it with the same dedication I’d give any serious project. It still cracks me up whenever I think about it. Another time, while experimenting with modulation effects, a vocal became so distorted that someone said, “It sounds like she’s gargling spunk!” We didn’t use that take in the final version, but we couldn’t resist adding it as a hidden Easter egg at the end. Those moments of laughter are gold—they remind me that creativity isn’t meant to be stiff or pressured. It’s meant to be fun.

Wordplay, for me, is the grounding element—the roots that keep everything connected. I’ve always been fascinated by the rhythm and texture of words, the way meaning can shift with a slight change in phrasing or tone. Artists like Eminem inspire me endlessly with how they twist language to carry multiple meanings at once. I’m no lyricist, but that kind of creativity pushes me to think differently about sound and structure. Sometimes, I’ll build an entire track around a clever phrase or a playful sample. One that stands out was when I used a line from the Derek and Clive sketch “This Bloke Came Up to Me.” When I dropped it into a dance track and stripped everything back for that moment, the reaction was instant laughter and disbelief—it worked perfectly. That’s the magic I chase: when words, sound, and meaning align in unexpected ways.

Still, my inspiration isn’t limited to those three pillars. It can come from anywhere—often from the smallest things. The rhythmic clatter of machinery, the way my wife sings as she moves around the house, the bark of my dog or the purr of my cat—all these sounds spark something in my imagination. Even visuals—patterns, flickering lights, or emotional moments in films—can trigger melodies or moods. Sometimes, inspiration comes straight from the subconscious. I’ll wake up with a tune looping in my head, something I can’t describe in words but know I need to capture before it fades. Those moments feel pure, unfiltered—like messages from the deeper creative mind. They’re the fertiliser in my garden of ideas, giving everything that extra push to grow.

Over time, these influences have taught me the importance of balance. Cannabis gives me freedom, humor keeps me grounded, and wordplay sharpens my focus. Together, they’ve shaped not only how I make music, but how I experience it. They’ve turned the studio into a playground rather than a workspace—a place where curiosity rules, mistakes become discoveries, and laughter fuels invention.

But creativity doesn’t grow in isolation. Just as a garden needs sunlight and weather, my music thrives through connection. Collaboration brings new energy, new perspectives, and sometimes, the best kind of chaos.

Of all the people I’ve worked with, none have shaped my journey more than Mike. Working with him is like planting a new kind of seed—one that grows in unexpected directions but still fits perfectly within the garden. He challenges me constantly, pushes me to experiment, and opens my eyes to new ways of thinking. Some sessions with him are laser-focused; others are a blur of laughter, side-tracks, and happy accidents that somehow lead to magic. He’s not just a collaborator—he’s become part of my creative rhythm, part of what keeps the process alive.

Cannabis, humor, and wordplay have been the roots, water, and sunlight of my creativity, but collaboration—with people like Mike—has become the weather that keeps it all in motion. The mix of these elements has helped me grow, not just as a producer, but as an artist and a person. Every track I make carries pieces of all of it—the laughter, the chaos, the clever twists, the freedom to explore. And as my music continues to evolve, I’m reminded that creativity, like any living thing, never really stops growing.