"Terrance is a fiction. Terrance is the place where I store my insecurities and anxieties; Terrence is a lie. I see Terrance in a lot of what I do and the experiences I choose to take part in. He's the club rat rolling in the corner not talking to anyone and hoping to make it through the night. He's the awkward guy at the rave stone cold sober and semi-miserable. Terrance is the friend you never see because the anxiety and undiagnosed depression is too much to deal with that week. He's the only guy at the party who leaves before it really starts and tells his friends that he just can't handle the stress of interaction. He's the coworker that feels slighted at work over the most insignificant situations. He's the child that doesn't respond to messages from his parents because it's easier to pretend that that part of his life hadn't existed. Terrance is a fucking asshole.
I created this entity to frame what I was experiencing and fighting every day while living, working, and partying in and around Brooklyn. It's nothing unique, it's nothing that anyone else hasn't dealt with. It's simply mine.
At it's root it comes from my experiences growing up in a pentecostal church. The mindset and paranoia that white Christianity breeds lends itself to the slight paranoia of the synths. The careful drum programming mirrors the cautious uncertainty inherent to trying to interpret the voice of God, whilst the allowed mistakes and improvisations hold the truer interpretation. At the end of it all is the subtle idea that the uncertainty and paranoia actually allow a sort of comfort and calm isolation."