It’s when you see the sun go down behind you and your technical team members totally drained out of their energy that you realize just how completely inadequate you are for the medium you’ve been trying to use to convey your message…! And I mean, very VERY inadequate, to the point where you hear, 2 hours later: “You know, Alex, I have an idea. Why don’t you just say something like: “Hi, this is Alex, and here’s the collection I crafted for “Kimiyo”. And then we’ll show images with music. It’s more aligned with who you are.” The final result is something like: “Hey guys, this is Alex. Here’s my project “Kimiyo”. Hope you’ll like it.” Yes, that is indeed when you know you are not very skilled in that specific domain…! 😉

That being said, it’s truly a blessing for me to connect with you through whatever communicative medium there is. Not that it’s more relaxed and loose, but… Oh, Lord! What a nightmare it was before! I felt so terribly uncomfortable in front of a camera and while doing interviews. I still feel this way sometimes, but it is nowhere near as bad. I used to hate every second of it, and it probably had way more to do with my fear of being seen for who I am and of disappointing or letting others down than any form of communicative inability. I wasn’t shy; I was terrified. I’ve always struggled with self-confidence, it’s profoundly rooted in me, and that’s the reason why I find it pretty uncanny to be the center of attention… Quite a problem for a frontman in a rock band!

I used to be emotionally petrified and physically ill before doing videos, interviews, or having to make any public appearances during my tenure as Your Favorite Enemies’ lead singer. I couldn’t understand the interest people could have in me or my perspectives on art and social issues. I kept repeating that I was part of a collective and that we should all be the object of the same attention. I couldn’t really grasp the concept of the music business image-building instrumentalization, nor could I completely understand the full extent of the natural connection I had with people. The very first manager we had in the early stages of our journey as YFE once told me: “Look, Alex, nobody cares about the other members of your band, we can all change them and no one would give a sh*t. Brace yourself, buddy, you are the band and you’ll do the interviews I will tell you to do. You’re a rock star, act accordingly.” We parted ways a few days later. He never understood that I could be scared, feel out of place, or be petrified to expose myself. He wasn’t mean or anything, it’s the sudden interest shown for me that I wasn’t prepared for. Some artists fit right in. As for me, it was a brutal reality check that was taking place.

It’s not that I didn’t want to communicate; I was writing a lot. I always have, right?! Sharing without much self-conscious scrutiny, I don’t think I had ever expected to be read or to receive answers as I did back then. But when my blog started becoming a “thing”, I kind of panicked internally. It wasn’t about me anymore, it was about us, and “us” meant that I had to be responsible for the impact of whatever I was expressing. As much as it was a vibrant gathering point for so many, I was getting worried about the outcome that such a congregation could potentially lead to. It was right around the time when the band “My Chemical Romance” was accused by mass media of cultivating a death obsession amongst their fans, which prompted several of them to be suspected of killing others or taking their own lives. While I was writing about social issues through the scope of life, hope, and everlasting possibilities, that type of news reminded me that it wasn’t only “internet” talk… it was real.

In fact, even if I constantly wrote with that reality in mind, I eventually got a massive emotional blow of my own when a Japanese kid I was corresponding with decided to take his life. I knew that I didn’t have anything to do with his decision, but it led me to admit that I would never be able to have an emotional distance from any joyful or sorrowful situations my correspondent may be experiencing. I decided to stop writing and explained my reasons for reducing my presence on forums to the community members who were gathered around my publications. For a long time, I felt like I had run away. It didn’t help me in any way to assume the arbitrary role of a band’s spokesperson afterward. I wasn’t able to get over that kid’s death… I’ve been thinking about him every single time I’ve shared thoughts ever since. I don’t have the pretense of being able to save the world, nor have I ever felt bestowed with a mission of becoming a beacon of hope for anyone, but I love and deeply care for people. I don’t think you can ever make peace with something like that. You learn to live with it, I suppose, and you try to make enough of a positive difference along the way.

As the band kept attracting the attention of a wider audience, Jeff ended up being the designated one with the duty of everything related to the press and interviews. Some reporters thought I was snobbish and arrogant by not wanting to make public appearances. I even received a message from the editor of a major magazine who told me: “You’ll never be featured in our magazine ever again, you f*** pretentious pri*k.” (I got featured several times ever since!). The thing is that no one would believe that I was that frighteningly stressed and too anxiously terrified to give interviews… I understood their stupefaction – a nice word to express their frustration, anger, and avenging post-reactions – to see Jeff show up instead of me when it was clear that I was the one supposed to show up for TV shows, radio features, or in-person interviews. Poor Jeff… I can’t say he’s never had my back! He was my shield when I didn’t know how to manage that rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle. The more popular the band became, the less comfortable or adequate I felt regarding that frontman role. I grew long hair so my face couldn’t be seen. I was so tiny at some point that I was frequently asked if I had AIDS. The more I wanted to disappear, the more attention I would receive. Popularity sounds like every band’s dream, but at the time, it was a privilege that came with responsibilities I didn’t feel fit for. I never believed in the concept of being an entertaining clown who had the sole obligation of keeping the traveling circus going while carrying it all on his shoulders… It wasn’t fun for me, and it was a nightmare for anyone around me.

Therefore, when I decided to release “Windows in the Sky” after quite a long period of hesitation and being passionately encouraged by my YFE bandmates to do so, my primary preoccupation was the fact that I would have to do interviews. I couldn’t foresee the logical possibility of sending Jeff instead of me. I wouldn’t have my emotional shield anymore, nor any band setup to hide myself behind. It would be about me and me alone this time, no way out, no cop-out. Me. When I finally decided to go ahead with the record, my initial thought process was based on the fact that no one would be interested in such an album. It was so different from everything I had done with Your Favorite Enemies; it was dark, based on spiritual poetry, spoken word, and long songs. It was so remote from the post-punk music I was known for that I figured I would be safe to go on.