A word from Tricia Fitz about Epic Penguin Sharks
I wrote "Epic Penguin Sharks" when I was at my lowest point emotionally, in an environment where I was silenced and simply following orders to keep things from escalating. I felt the need to take back control by just being out of control. I was scared to let it be known that I was writing about being controlled and wanting to escape, so I had to do a lot of the work in secret at first. It was a long and sweaty four year process, and I piled every creative idea I had into it. I like to call the album my very own Frankenstein's Monster, or even my Creative Diarrhea. I basically did whatever I thought would inspire myself to listen to my own music and in the end the album encouraged me to find a way out and start my life over.
The first step was to call it "Epic Penguin Sharks", a combination of my two favourite animals, and somehow combine them and tell a long story (an epic, if you will) about identity. Was it a code of some sort?...maybe. From there, I put together a collection of oddball songs, and surprised myself when I was able to piece them together and create a narrative about living in a society and wanting to break free. The album takes the listener from birth to death, and each songs represents a stage of life. The whole plot of the album is about feeling stuck in time, then later realizing that you are your only true audience, and finally being able to express yourself freely, retiring that old soul and rebirthing a new one.
It was the most fun I've ever had recording and producing music. No really, I questioned my sanity at times. I have one song, "Talk About Boys" where I pretend to be a girl group and take on four different vocal tonalities. Why? Because I thought it'd be hilarious. Another song, "Not Serious Enough" talks about how I will probably never get signed to a label for being too aloof (I even threw in there a random hoedown section and sang the guitar solo because why not). You get a song about how everyone is suddenly "adulting" and you're just there sitting with your cats. You get a song about how great being old must be. You get the lo-fi Kanye West inspired pop banger that ended my long running feud with autotune. My favourite song off the album, Backseat, is the saddest most pathetic song I've ever written and I'm surprised I even let myself put it on the album. It's a weird combination of songs, and I'm aware. Some might call it a mess or a marketing nightmare, but it represents me more than anything else ever has.
I took risks, challenged myself more than I ever have, and the final product turned out to be something that I sometimes believe is bigger than me. My hope is that this album sees enough light to do it justice, and I am pushing myself harder than ever to get it to as many ears as possible.
The first step was to call it "Epic Penguin Sharks", a combination of my two favourite animals, and somehow combine them and tell a long story (an epic, if you will) about identity. Was it a code of some sort?...maybe. From there, I put together a collection of oddball songs, and surprised myself when I was able to piece them together and create a narrative about living in a society and wanting to break free. The album takes the listener from birth to death, and each songs represents a stage of life. The whole plot of the album is about feeling stuck in time, then later realizing that you are your only true audience, and finally being able to express yourself freely, retiring that old soul and rebirthing a new one.
It was the most fun I've ever had recording and producing music. No really, I questioned my sanity at times. I have one song, "Talk About Boys" where I pretend to be a girl group and take on four different vocal tonalities. Why? Because I thought it'd be hilarious. Another song, "Not Serious Enough" talks about how I will probably never get signed to a label for being too aloof (I even threw in there a random hoedown section and sang the guitar solo because why not). You get a song about how everyone is suddenly "adulting" and you're just there sitting with your cats. You get a song about how great being old must be. You get the lo-fi Kanye West inspired pop banger that ended my long running feud with autotune. My favourite song off the album, Backseat, is the saddest most pathetic song I've ever written and I'm surprised I even let myself put it on the album. It's a weird combination of songs, and I'm aware. Some might call it a mess or a marketing nightmare, but it represents me more than anything else ever has.
I took risks, challenged myself more than I ever have, and the final product turned out to be something that I sometimes believe is bigger than me. My hope is that this album sees enough light to do it justice, and I am pushing myself harder than ever to get it to as many ears as possible.