The long version.

I was raised just outside Washington, D.C. and my musical journey began when I took up the violin at age 3. I technically won a Grammy when I was 9, but can’t take much credit for singing in a children’s choir. Things really kicked into gear when I got my first electric guitar — a knock-off Strat that became this skinny Jewish teenager’s golden ticket into the thriving D.C. indie scene. I frequented the 930 Club along with a tight-knit group of friends, and over the years hauled my Fender Twin down the shady stairwells of innumerable underground venues. My love for playing music grew with a fascination for recording it, so I soon opened up a studio with my best friend. Though our recordings were cringeworthy and technically mediocre, I still admire our wide-eyed creativity.

All this was taken away when my family relocated to Vancouver, but the move eventually earned me another golden ticket: a Canadian passport. After studying for a year at Selkirk College of Music and releasing my first singer/songwriter work, I moved to Montréal in pursuit of a scene as vibrant as the one I’d grown up in. I found exactly what I was looking for. The next two years were spent writing, recording and touring, all while soaking in the bohemian life of Le Plateau with an eclectic cast of characters. My band and I had the privilege of collaborating with the inimitable Eva Foote, and we logged hundreds of kilometers travelling to Ottawa for sessions with Juno-winner Philip Shaw Bova. My music took on western and tropical flavours, and at the height of Montréal’s blistering winters, I became notorious for throwing “beach party” shows with inflatable palm trees.

Though my memories are rosy, I eventually got a bit mired in the artsiness and tired of always having cold fingers. I took a trip back home, and found that the west coast had developed a fresh new vitality. After making the move official, I took an intentional step back from my singer/songwriting, published a short collection of essays, and began performing as a gun-for-hire with Zach Kleisinger and Jenny Banai.

I’ve taken the pandemic as a chance to hone and expand my engineering palette, and am beyond grateful to have B.C.’s mountains in my backyard during this strange time. I have a far-off dream of opening a retreat recording studio on the Gulf Islands, but in the meantime intend to explore new ways in which to encourage, serve and support others. If you’re interested in making something together or just having a chat, please, don’t be a stranger!

Cheers,
Yitzy