What Carl Michaels Heard in “XRAY” That I Didn’t
Notes on Music & Aesthetics
Listen to the XRAY remixes
Watch the original studio version:
I thought I understood “XRAY” until someone else remixed it.
When I sent it to Carl Michaels, I wasn’t thinking about remixes as interpretation. I thought of them as alternate versions. Same song, different setting. Not something that actually changes what the song is.
“XRAY” is about being seen.
Not casually. That specific moment where someone cuts through whatever version of yourself you’re presenting and recognizes something underneath it. It’s clarity, but also exposure. It’s exciting and a little uncomfortable at the same time.
It actually came from a very specific night. I had just left a gay club in Cleveland and ended up in a pool, skinny dipping, talking to someone I had just met the weekend before moving to Philadelphia. It had that kind of surreal, heightened feeling where everything feels a little too real, like you’re outside of yourself watching it happen.
Nothing about it was stable or long-term. But for a moment, it felt like being completely seen.
That stayed with me.
I’ve always been drawn to that idea. As a kid I was obsessed with cartoons where X-rays or some kind of futuristic technology could reveal the truth or stun someone. That idea of something hidden suddenly becoming visible stayed with me, and it became the center of the track.
By the time I finished the song, it felt set. The pacing, the tone, the emotional arc, all of it felt intentional. I tend to control how my songs feel. Probably more than I should.
So I didn’t expect it to turn into two completely different things.
Carl has been DJing forever. Philly, New York, Fire Island. Opening for people like Carly Rae Jepsen and Rina Sawayama. He thinks about music in terms of energy and movement in a way I don’t.
“The DJ is there for the crowd. The people are why we’re there.”
That difference is basically the whole story of these remixes.
Persons of Interest (4AM Mix)
The first version he sent back, with his group Persons of Interest, became the 4AM mix.
It’s darker. Feels like 4 a.m. More internal, more stripped down. It isolates the vocal and shifts what it’s doing emotionally.
“I like that darker New York style. That 4:00 AM type of thing.”
It wasn’t trying to recreate the song. It was pulling something out of it.
There was a moment where I was surprised by the transformation. Which I think is normal. Something exists, but you haven’t caught up to it yet. It reminded me of those late moments in clubs where repetition turns hypnotic. You listen again, leave it alone, come back to it.
Then it clicks.
That version made the song feel less like connection and more like exposure.
Sunday Tea (Classic Mix)
The second remix, Sunday Tea, goes in the opposite direction.
He went back to the original and heard something more open in it.
“That’s when I went back and did the classic type of mix. Like a tea dance.”
This one expands everything. It’s brighter, more communal, more euphoric. Tea dances occupy a different emotional space in gay culture. They’re daytime, more social, less about cruising and more about actually being together.
“I think it’s fun. Your original is really uplifting, so I wanted to make sure we captured that.”
Hearing that one felt like hearing the song from the outside.
What Actually Changed for Me
When you write something, you’re inside every decision. You know why everything is there.
A remix removes that.
A remix just asks: what does this feel like?
What Carl pulled out of “XRAY” were two extremes that were already there:
- the tension of being seen
- the release of being understood
He just separated them.
That’s when I realized a remix isn’t an edit or a “club version.”
It’s a reframing.
“The best DJs are figuring out what people want and need. Not just what’s in front of them.”
That shifted something for me.
I spend a lot of time controlling how my music lands. A remix is the opposite. You let someone else take control and see what holds up.
And there’s something kind of brutal about that. My new album coming out this fall leans into that combination of beauty and brutality. You can’t hide behind intention. It either works in a different context or it doesn’t.
With “XRAY,” it did.
And maybe that’s the real test of a song. Whether someone else can pull it apart and still find something alive inside it.
Thanks for joining my mailing list. I’ll share these kinds of process notes occasionally: how songs evolve, how different aesthetics take shape, and what actually holds up once it leaves your hands. No spam, just when there’s something worth sending.