About

Growing up in a city built on music, the influence was unavoidable. From the Merseybeat echoes bouncing off the Cavern Club walls to the grime and hip-hop bleeding out of bedroom studios across L20, Liverpool shaped everything. The local scene connected him with some serious names early on. The accents, the attitude, the refusal to follow anyone else's blueprint.

A trip to India in his early years with a group of musician friends opened something new entirely - different scales, different rhythms, a completely different relationship between sound and silence. From there to LA, where years of writing sessions, studio time, and mingling with some of the biggest names in the industry shaped the craft. Then New York, where he ended up staying with a Native American community upstate, hearing music that had nothing to do with charts or streams or algorithms.

All of it fed back into the work. His own releases are experiments. Hip-hop one day, country the next, Irish folk the day after. Each track is a different world - sometimes raw and unpolished, sometimes layered and cinematic. The only constant is that nothing sounds like the last thing he made.

No rules. No genre loyalty. No face. Just sound.

The story starts in Liverpool in the nineties. Not the polished waterfront version the tourist boards sell - the actual city. Streets where music leaked out of every window, scenes built on word of mouth, local heroes who never made a record but could hold a room. That is the education. Before Ableton, before sessions, before planes to LA - there were those rooms.

The production work developed across two decades of genre cross-contamination. Hip-hop was the foundation - the beat construction, the sample ear, the economy of arrangement. Then country and folk crept in from the American period, bringing a different relationship to melody and storytelling. Then the Indian trip deconstructed rhythm from the ground up. Each phase left deposits that are still audible in the current work.

The songwriter side runs parallel to and distinct from the producer side. Writing for other artists is a craft exercise in ego suppression - you are building something for someone else to inhabit. It demands a different kind of listening. The best sessions are the ones where you disappear completely and the artist walks out with something that sounds entirely theirs.

The journalism, the blog, the essays - those came out of a frustration with how music gets written about. Too much hagiography. Too many press release rewrites. Not enough actual thinking about why something works, what it cost to make, what it means in context. The writing is an attempt to correct that. It also makes the production better. You cannot write clearly about music you do not understand technically.

Names matter. A stage name is a commitment - you are staking your output to a word or phrase that will follow everything you make. Some artists spend years getting it wrong first. Kurtis Delight came from a specific moment and a specific set of influences that felt honest rather than manufactured, personal rather than commercial.

The full story is longer than it looks. It has something to do with Liverpool, something to do with a person who no longer goes by that name, and something to do with a record that should have been more famous than it was. Ask at the right moment and you might get the real version.