"or how to make a mixtape the long way"
18 OBSCURE COVER SONGS. 1 INSPIRED NEW ALBUM.
There was a unique time in history when a 12-year-old had access to a PC computer in 1989. I make no apologies for having been one of them—one of the kids, not one of the unique moments in time. LOOK AROUND. GET GEM. PLAY FLUTE. USE KEY. INSERT WARP MOTIVATOR.
If you have any capacity for utilizing this beautiful set of sixteen of the most perfect colors ever to have graced computer screens, or reality itself for that matter, then please enjoy these complimentary files. I saved the set as a Photoshop swatches file, as well as made a .GIF with the hex codes and 8-bit RGB values printed right there. You are welcome.
Why does a website in 2021 intentionally evoke computer game imagery from 1989? The simple answer is because I can't get enough of those particular sixteen colors! They are beautiful and timeless.
But that's not important right now. You're here to learn about what Worldbri Productions is, where worldbri.com came from, and how we focus tested our vision statement to leverage our core competencies. If you're not, keep reading regardless.
Yes, it's true; this website is over twenty years old, the aesthetics are thirty years old, and I'm quite past forty years old. The "World Bri'ed Web" has hosted useless blogs, annoying GIF animations, unflattering profile pictures, and all the requisite guestbooks, counters, and links you'd expect from any other Web 1.0 site. Today's WORLDBRI.COM is still the portal to my creative life, but it has much better social media support these days. It has matured as much as I almost have …
Like many other college-aged douchebags with an acoustic guitar, circa 1997, I could have been mistaken for a brooding, shaggy, pseudo-intellectual songwriter, when in reality I wasn’t particularly brooding. I thought clever attempts at wit and humor made me unique. In retrospect, I contend the distinction was moot, as the following post-college decade of my life was creatively spent producing albums’ worth of recordings I’m no less embarrassed by than had I just plain brooded.
I “released” the albums annually on average—on crappy, burned CDRs for my friends and family, as well as on old, defunct mp3 websites that pioneered what places like Bandcamp are now. The equipment and software evolved. My guitar and gear collection expanded. Things like talent and skill and experience naturally progressed, as would be expected. I probably got my 10,000 hours in somewhere. And this website stuck with me through it all, tediously chronicling the crap I wanted to type in any given week, and being redesigned every few years. Its focus was always on the albums I'd completed. One by one, each album got featured and effectively forgotten, another in a long, annually increasing list of titles and tracks that would be the only relevant content on this domain.
Eventually there was a hiatus that cleaved the production of Buy Popular Demand (Album #10) into a hybrid collaboration between 30-year-old Brian and 38-year-old Brian; the result was an album I was proud to be able to release in 2015. Following that, the system I’d had through the early 2000s for lyric-writing (in my case the first step in songwriting) had dissolved, so I had no backlog of pending lyrics ready for Album #11 (nothing that was uncringeworthy, or representative of “who I was” anymore, anyway). Which is why my first exclusively instrumental album was an experiment!
In my youth I had a more frequent propensity for drawing and painting than I do now. Many versions of this website over the years were centered not around music, but my numerous drawings of Tori Amos. My galleries contained more than just that, but the remnants are still around regardless. I also dabble in graphic and logo design, pretty much as a necessity; it's hard to design a website and brand if you don't have assets.