My debut, independent record Hex Sign turns 3 today. I released it in the thick of graduate school—on a whim. Mastering had been finished for months, and I just sat on my twelve songs until I was ready to share them. I have shared parts of this story here and there, but I wanted to properly celebrate the serious effort I made to finish this record.
I had always wanted to make a record. I got close to that goal when I signed a recording contract at 19 with my longtime mentor in Nashville. I was young, naïve, and easily bamboozled. I didn’t realize I had signed away ownership of all my creative output for the foreseeable future. Sure, I got to record in fancy studios and work with successful bands, but I was completely dependent on someone else to make my dreams come true. After a year and a half of it, the fog lifted and I could see the cruel reality: I wasn’t getting out of this contract with a record let alone with my dignity.
I ran away from it with my tail between my legs having “lost” everything I ever wanted. Looking back almost 10 years later, I was wise to talk away. I was pressured into signing the contract in the first place. I was very poor, overly trusting, and I didn’t know any lawyers who could advise me through it. After dozens of broken promises and being called “crazy” one too many times, I decided I’d had enough.
I spent the remainder of my 5 year contract petrified. My ex-mentor owned my name, likeness, and everything I produced creatively (music or otherwise). I put my head down and waited it out. I eventually finished college which helped me pass the time.
When my contract expired in 2020, we were in the early stages of the pandemic. I was furloughed from my two jobs, and sheltering in place in a punk house brimming with musicians in the wake of cancelled tours. I had been creatively starved for 5 years, and couldn’t hold back any longer despite the overall stress and tension in the house. I started writing and singing again. Here is a song I wrote during that time called “Liked You Better”.
One of my housemates noticed me songwriting and asked if I wanted to record some demos. I was overjoyed—finally the chance to record on my own terms. After a few casual recording sessions in the house’s converted garage, we decided to record an album. Over the course of 9 months, I recorded around 15 songs. This process was slow because I was learning as I went, and I only recorded on the weekends. Here is an early demo of “The Glacier” I made with video clips from the Library of Congress.
I wrote, produced, and played all the parts on the record (aside from a few drum parts courtesy of my housemate, Pile’s Alex Molini, who recorded, mixed, and mastered the album). Mind you I can’t really play drums and can barely play bass. My skill level in everything other than vocal performance and basic piano, needed some help. Track comping was my truest friend.1
I typically recorded one song at a time, tracking one instrument after another. I would save vocal takes for the end of the day, when my voice was warmed up from talking throughout the day. However, some songs like “Background Noise” required a full day for vocal tracking. I think this strategy, recording one song at a time, allowed for varied sonic outcomes throughout the record. Some may call this poor planning and inconsistency, but it was also liberating. I wasn’t answering to anyone. I could make this record however I wanted, and I wanted variety. This was my chance to explore and play with the recording process.
A demo of “Catatonia”, August 1, 2020
Around October 2020, I took a break from recording. I was burnt out from my sales job and had no more creative juice to spare. I sat on the rough mixed songs I had recorded so far and resumed recording in June 2021. By that time, I had a clearer vision for the record as a whole. I had decided on a title and had an idea for the cover art. I began thinking about track listing and missing elements. I had even written a few new songs which we recorded that summer.
By August 2021, I had finished recording all of the songs and Alex and I began the mixing process. Alex would send me mixes and I would send him notes until we arrived at the right sound. I didn’t have the money to hire another engineer for mastering, but Alex graciously mastered the record later that fall.
By October 18, 2021, the mastering was complete. I had been working with a designer to create the album artwork which was ready by this time too. Then, it was all up to me: no record exec breathing down my neck, no band to rally behind. The ball was in my court, and I couldn’t pick it up.
It was practically my life goal to put out a record. Now that it was ready, I couldn’t face releasing it. What was the hold up? Maybe I was afraid I would get sued for somehow breeching my long expired contract. Maybe I didn’t want the world to see the darkest corners of my mind. Maybe I thought the whole project sounded too simple, too unpolished, too DIY.
It took me four months to muster the courage to share my songs because I realized songs are meant to be shared. I owed it to myself to not only share them but to release myself of this heavy burden. So that’s what I did three years ago today, and I am so glad I did.
Hex Sign premiered on Post Trash the day before the official release, and Dan Goldin wrote some really nice things about it. I will share a snippet below.
There’s a real progression within these songs, with far more dynamics than any bedroom pop record. Bri Barte eases into her arrangements rather than hitting the wall headfirst, playing the patient hand and allowing song like “The Glacier” and “Liked You Better” to unfurl into heavy resolutions. With a cool blend of gritty alternative soul and passionate scorn in her voice, songs like “Before I Have To Go” and “Turbulence” hit upon early PJ Harvey albums, making beautiful music under an ugly lens. There’s moments of stark outsider pop (“Sad Boi”) and stunning balladry (“Catatonia”) as Barte ponders “how’s it held together? how’s it fall apart” over sweeping piano and shuffling distortion. “High Noon” may just be the album’s highlight, a song that begins with birds chirping before Barte’s vocals push and pull with utmost delicacy and unshakeable strength. Set to a single guitar progression and haunting backing vocals, you’re drawn in by the simplicity and the empty spaces that allow complete focus.
Here are my key takeaways from making Hex Sign:
You don’t need a label to make a record.
You don’t need a band to make a record.
You don’t need to be “good” at any instrument to make a record.
There’s no right/wrong way to make a record.
Imperfect songs can make a cool record.
It is possible and empowering to do it yourself.
If you want to support me, you can purchase Hex Sign on Bandcamp, engage with my newsletter, and/or buy my merch. I released Hex Sign independently and created it with a budget of around $1,200. I proudly own 100% of the master and publishing rights. When you support an artist directly you can make a big difference in their artistic practice. Thanks for reading my story and helping me celebrate Hex Sign.
Comping is the process of editing audio recordings of multiple performances into a single performance, to create a “composite” audio recording, called a “composite track” or a “comp” for short