Danny Dwyer was born in a “cracker barrel like not the restaurant but the object, which I wasn’t even sure existed until I saw my birth photos. From there it was a slow rise, normal childhood, my father was a traveling soap salesman, specifically the ones that looked like shells that go in the showers of budget motels and cheap inns. When I was 16 we hit it big. He landed a deal with best western and we never looked back.
The good life found us, fancy cocktails, steak frites. We packed everything and settled into luxury, trying out a new resort every weekend. It wasn’t long before my father became obsessed with having a part of this new world of affluence. He didn’t just want to take part, he wanted to provide the soap that washed the hands of the elite.
Late nights ensued, testing out new soaps, digging up the finest ingredients from the oddest corners of the earth. He poured the rest of his savings into crates of dried kaffir lime leaves and grains of paradise. Before we knew it, it was all gone and he sat slouched on a garage floor covered in dried flower petals and puddles of the finest oils. I knew it was time for me to make my own all I packed up that night and headed to the big city. I denounced retail and vowed to give my life to the furthest thing from mid tier wholesale… music.”
The single was inspired mostly by just” sitting on fences and using iPhone long exposure settings. Also crime, serious enough to get my heart racing but petty enough to not keep me up at night (I have a very sensitive conscience)”
