Embers trades in ghost hunting for upbeat pop-punk vibes

“They had me lay down with one of the audio machines and slide into the body drawer.”

Embers: no pink G-Wagons were harmed in the making of this video.

The new video from San Diego’s Embers, “scratch my name,” features an eye-popping pink Mercedes G-Wagon (a rental, no less) getting jacked, scratched, cruised all over creation, and danced on, with dog shit and half-masticated cheeseburgers thrown into the back seat. Not to mention the artiste himself pissing in the gas tank. He assures us, however, that all scenes appearing to place the Benz in jeopardy were simulated. “We may have left some footprints on the roof, but luckily, that was it. Chris [Torres] from Topanga Hills Mafia directed the video. He’s done a lot of work for Tyga, and Steve Aoki, and has been a good friend and collaborator of mine for many years.”

The video is also notable for one strange exchange, not available on the audio single, featuring an older lady shouting both inspiration and insults while the pink ride is parked. “We shot the video mostly around my neighborhood, and then over in Coronado, which is where we ran into the ‘Karen’ you hear complaining in the video. She would go from telling us she loved us to calling us liars and cursing at us. She didn’t seem to want to call the police, but more just to yell, so we had some fun banter back and forth.”

Embers declines to provide his given name, explaining, “I enjoy the privacy that comes with that separation.” He loves San Diego for feeling “like comfort,” but grew up north of Boston before his move to North Park five years ago. “I think when you stay in one place too long, you become comfortable. Discomfort always brings growth. I think everyone should try moving away from their hometown and experiencing a new place.”

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His early musical diet consisted of Nirvana, then branched out into similar sounds. “My older brother passed when I was eight. I only have a few memories of him. He always loved the guitar, so when my Mom handed his guitar down to me, I felt I had an obligation to experience the things he never had the chance to. Pop-punk really made me feel I had potential, because the guitar riffs were easy to learn, but the lyrics hit so hard. [Blink-182’s] Tom DeLonge and Kurt Cobain didn’t give a fuck about how many solos they could play or how high a note they could hit, so why should I? It was about the emotion, and that in itself inspired me to continue.”

He learned music skills on the fly while running a business furnishing visuals for Steve Aoki, plus other DJs and touring artists. As part of his day (well, night) gig side, he recalls “working with a ghost-hunting group. My job was to take different devices and tour ‘haunted’ locations at 3 am to see how the devices would react. I remember one time we went to an abandoned mental hospital in New Hampshire. We found a secret room in the basement where they had the drawers you keep dead people in. They had me lay down with one of the audio machines and slide into the body drawer. I felt a lot of energies, but I never saw indisputable proof of supernatural activity.”

His indie-emo EP titled emo szn (always all-lowercase, from his love of emo rap), focused on Covid. A new five-song set called to the moon finds him stretching back towards the world. “For ‘scratch my name,’ I lean into the upbeat vibes of the pop-punk I grew up on, while also exploring the serious topic of toxic relationships. From there, we have the Kellin Quinn [of Sleeping With Sirens] collab ‘eating me alive,’ which leans more into my screaming hard rock influences. ‘inside my chest’ was an outlet to express how social anxiety makes me feel. ‘love like violence’ is a melting pot of an emo ballad. Lastly is ‘hard to believe,’ an acoustic duet about self-doubt and learning how to cope with abuse and betrayal, from both points of view in a relationship.”

Embers plays instruments, but prefers to “stick to singing and screaming, so I can really concentrate on connecting with the audience. I think the aggression in my music stems through years of different traumatic experiences. I often go into the crowd at my shows and jump around with people. I can feel the aggression, but it’s never been malicious. I think people enjoy sharing the outlet with me, when they’ve been through similar situations.”

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