After a semester and a half, I dropped out of music school. Not only that, I ran away from home. For some reason that I'm still not sure of, I decided to pack my things, blacklist everyone's phone number, and fall off the face of the earth. No, I didn't kill anybody, and no, nobody got pregnant. I think I just wanted to feel what it was like at the bottom. So, I lived in my car and got wi-fi from public libraries for a little bit. During that time, I met a family of three that took me in. I had never met these people in my entire life, and they somehow had the audacity, courage, and kindness to open their household to a smelly, homeless, and sleep-deprived musician. I lived with them for two years, and it became a family of four for a little bit. In those two years, I learned about the world. I was in a band with an eccentric man who claims he had a chip planted in him by aliens, I partook in an ayahuasca ceremony, I busked downtown on Broadway for tips, and I started paying taxes. Not to mention the typical adolescent nihilistic phase, which I somehow managed to get through. I think paying taxes had something to do with that. All of these experiences find their way throughout my music. They've taught me to listen to myself, to set an aim for my life, and to focus whole-heartedly on my goal. And that aim is to make the shittiest fucking music imaginable let's fucking get it MGMT: jon@dreamtheoryofficial.com