Multi-disciplinary artist mileshigh has just unleashed his sophomore album ‘Sewing Machines‘ onto the musical landscape. Hailing from the midwest of Canada, mileshigh crafts a sonic and visual world that is entirely his own. It’s an expression, or rather an outcry, encapsulating the muffled voices, emotions, and ideals of an outcast generation. It’s a project that refuses the trappings of genre labels, the kind of album that might just be considered punk—not for its sound, but for its soul.
“There’s lots I can say about the record that could even take us into other subjects…this album is a heart on my sleeve, leave it all on the stage kind of project,” says mileshigh. The artist delves into the recesses of childhood experiences, predominantly the darker, formative ones that continue to resonate in his present life. In the absence of any concrete plan, he lets raw emotion take the wheel.
“I took the role of an expressionist and recorded all of these songs alone in my flat whenever I was extremely anxious or sad,” he shares.
mileshigh’s unfiltered approach—recording in the throws of extreme emotions, layer by layer, almost like an impulsive emotional release—stands in stark contrast to the industry standard of overproduction. “Producing these recordings further and cleaning them up to meet the industry standards would have killed the spirit that makes this record what it is,” he explains.
It’s a musical philosophy that can only be termed punk in its intent if not in its sonic identity.
Drawing a musical parallel, mileshigh suggests that the emotive gravity of his album aligns with the likes of “Montage of Heck” by Kurt Cobain and the emotional resonance found in a Smashing Pumpkins record.
But there’s a disclaimer: “It’s much more than that,” he warns. Indeed, to pigeonhole this project into pre-existing categories would be an exercise in futility and a disservice to its creative spirit. ‘Sewing Machines’ bends genres, skirts traditional norms, and lives in a universe conceived by mileshigh—a universe that both embraces and critiques the very world it reflects.
“Sewing Machines” wasn’t conceived in a calculated manner. There wasn’t a master plan to exorcise childhood trauma through music. Yet, its very spontaneity became its most potent feature. “The results were liberating and expressed my trauma in its most ugly and beautiful way,” mileshigh reflects.
If anything, ‘Sewing Machines’ is a testament to the beauty of artistic imperfection, the liberation that comes with rejecting the well-trodden path of overproduction and meticulous planning. It’s an album that truly wears its heart on its sleeve, right next to its frayed, threadbare patches.
It screams, it whispers, it stumbles, and through these very actions, it connects with us. It’s not just music; it’s an emotional tapestry woven from the life threads of mileshigh.
What makes it particularly compelling is its raw honesty—an album that emerged not by design but by emotional necessity, making it a truly unique sonic memoir.
