purevolume™

(some) assembly required is the moniker selected by myself to refer to... well, myself. Hiding behind a band name makes me appear more mysterious, and lends credibility to whatever musical projects I undertake. Which is convenient, because I need all the credibility I can get; I'm a reclusive loser who writes fractured pop songs in his bedroom, rarely venturing beyond the embrace of four empty walls to perform in person. I've been perfecting a formula for social failure and musical obscurity for about six years now. I don't plan on quitting any time soon.

I like to think that the songs I write can't be pinned down to a particular genre or set of influences, because I listen to a diverse spectrum of music, most of which I rip off in equal measure. (That is, of course, a lie that I tell myself so I can pretend that my compositions are substantively original.) Surely I'm not fooling anyone. I write three-and-a-half minute slices of piano-based pop music, and it's not like that hasn't been done before. Sheer originality isn't everything, though, and sometimes the right four chords can change your life. Right?

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