When I walked away from the 9-5 world at the start of the pandemic, I was upset. It was the last in a long line of dead-end gigs. I was so done with the “real world” I let my cell phone lapse. For two years. If you wanted to reach me — too bad. Quiet time. Brooding time. Staring-at-walls-wondering-if-the-aliens-are-coming time.
Then 2025 happened.
If the pando was my hermitage, 2025 was me kicking the door off the hinges. Call it the Year of Socialization & Music — sounds like a corporate retreat, was actually the most fun I’ve had in decades. I made a conscious decision to smile and shake hands. Over two-dozen artists walked into my living room here in Richmond that year. We drank coffee, made noise, made recordings. I remembered I’m not just a guy who listens to records — I’m a guy who makes them. Something clicked. The rust fell off the gears. Turns out I wasn’t just hoarding gear all these years. I was building something. I was building an Ark.
The world’s getting weird.
Feels like a flood’s coming — AI slop, noise, sterility. Panama Sound is my Ark. Hot transformers, high fidelity, black coffee. Built to keep the intensity and realness higher than the rising tide of bullshit. So here’s the announcement:
As of January 1, 2026, Panama Sound is officially open for business.
No more dead-end jobs. All the chips are in the middle of the table. The skills are honed, the gear is incredible, I met some amazing people this year, and I’ve got a really good feeling about the next one. I don’t want to chase “perfect.” I want the thing that makes you cry, laugh or sing along. Vibe is king here. So give me a shout. The phone’s back on. The mics are live. The coffee’s hot.
