Link 3 recorded their slowcore debut with gaming mics and bathroom fans—now it's soundtracking weddings. James and Sunniva unpack the guitar-first writing, dual-vocal chemistry, and DIY grit behind On The Outline, a record that chose intimacy over polish and found an audience craving exactly that.

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A packed car pointed west, and a travel-size instrument wedged between sleeping bags—this is how records get made when life is crowded and the need to create won’t wait. We sit down with Brian Russ of Hand Gestures to trace the long arc behind a self-titled album that sounds lived-in, melodic, and unforced.

Russ maps a route from college shows in Philadelphia to AmeriCorps on Pine Ridge, then into Brooklyn’s warehouse-show ecosystem, where CMJ weekends blurred into community and bands kept each other afloat. Along the way, he built Campers Rule Records—a micro-label with pragmatic ideals: small cassette runs, break-even math, and hands-on help that gets music over the line.

The mechanics matter. Voice memos from a cross-country drive became song kernels; late nights with an interface turned sketches into arrangements; a remote drummer locked in the pulse. Brian tracked guitars, bass, keys, and vocals himself, then sequenced the record for an arc that rewards close listening.

There’s life in the margins, too—two teachers, two kids, and a creative practice built one quiet hour at a time. We talk rebuilding a live band post-COVID, why the album title became the band’s name, and how to stay sane about press and reach. For anyone invested in DIY recording, Brooklyn indie circuits, sustainable labels, or the alchemy of turning notes into songs, this conversation offers a clear, hopeful blueprint.

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A small amp, a whispered “Beatrice,” and four players standing in a circle, daring the songs not to flinch.
In this conversation with Neil Osborne of 54-40, Porto emerges as a document of risk—shadow work, live-wire performances, and the kind of imperfection that lets a song haunt you instead of explaining itself.

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