When I think about creative collaboration, I think about years spent playing, debating, and building alongside Thom Smith. For over a decade, we have shared stages, ideas, and screens. From Tokyo clubs packed wall to wall with noise and movement to late nights refining layouts for a new print series, the throughline has always been the same: trust built through repetition, experimentation, and total creative immersion.
Thom and I have played together in multiple bands, including Darkcorpse, Retch, and Worship Pain. Each project is shaped by a different kind of madness, discipline, and design instinct. The energy that drives a setlist also drives a sketchbook. Our creative partnership was forged in both chaotic rehearsal spaces and minimalist design drafts. Years of shared rhythm taught us something that no course could: collaboration is not about skill overlap, it is about creative translation.
Shared Vision, Different Mediums
Thom approaches product design the same way he approaches music: bold composition, balanced tension, and intentional texture. His newest project, the 2025 Year of the Horse nengajo, is not something I designed or printed. I have only handled the ecommerce side of it. But even from that distance, the piece embodies everything I have come to expect from his process. Each decision in the illustration reflects that deep interplay between formal precision and impulsive expression. It is exactly what you would expect from a Cooper Union graduate who chose Japan as both muse and manufacturing ground.
While Thom crafts physical works, I build digital infrastructure around them. It is a division of labor that mirrors our roles in the band. He handles visual chaos; I handle the system that holds it. This balance is what makes our collaboration functional. My background in digital operations and strategy means I can structure a launch while Thom ensures it is worth launching.
Design as an Extension of Sound
Every print, shirt, and card Thom releases carries the same pulse that drives a riff in Worship Pain or Retch. We have always treated the visual layer as an extension of the sonic one. Even in early Darkcorpse shows, Thom’s posters were not just promotional material; they were atmosphere builders. They defined what people expected before a note was even played.
That is why working on the ecommerce side of his projects is not just about logistics. It is about preserving intention. When I set up his Squarespace store for this year’s nengajo drop, the goal was not to automate; it was to translate. The site’s structure had to match the tone of the work: tactile, refined, slightly dangerous. Black card stock, gold ink, red accents. Every visual detail is rooted in years of shared aesthetic vocabulary, combining Japan’s deep sense of craft with the experimental grit of the Tokyo underground.
The Intersection of Systems and Sensibility
One of the things I have learned in more than 12 years of creative collaboration is that artistry and operations are not opposites. A functioning digital platform is just as much a creative act as an illustration or print. Both require rhythm, clarity, and pacing. Both fall apart if they do not breathe. When you have spent a decade performing together, those instincts carry over naturally into project design and marketing.
How Music Informs Product Design
Our work together blurs boundaries between music, art, and business. Playing in bands taught us how to listen before leading, how to handle product design, and how to build structure from chaos. Those lessons guide how I handle digital systems and how Thom approaches product design. Every poster, print, or card we collaborate around still carries the pulse of rehearsal rooms and the energy of performance. It is the same creativity, just expressed through different tools.
Our dynamic works because Thom is fearless about texture, and I am relentless about strategy. When those two align, products like his nengajo feel inevitable. You can see the Japanese influence in the brush-like gold lines and the carefully balanced red accents. You can feel the Cooper Union discipline in the geometry. You can trace the underground Tokyo energy in the decision to make each set by hand. It is not branding; it is cultural layering through design.
Craft, Commitment, and Continuity
Creative collaboration projects like this remind me that the most sustainable partnerships are built on aligned obsession. We have both evolved over time, exploring new instruments, new mediums, and new illustration tools, but the creative loop remains unchanged. Whether we are rehearsing or discussing typography, the process always involves three steps:
That is where quality comes from. Not perfection, but persistence.
Thom’s nengajo project represents that perfectly. Even though I only handle the ecommerce setup, it feels like an echo of our shared history. Each release is a timestamp in a long, ongoing conversation between sound, form, and friendship.
Whether we are rehearsing or discussing typography, the process always involves three steps:
Build: start with an idea worth pursuing, no matter how raw.
Break: test it, challenge it, and strip away what does not belong.
Rebuild: refine it until it stands on its own terms.
Buy the Work, Support the Process
Art and design are not separate from life; they are the rhythm inside it. If you have followed Worship Pain or any of our other projects, you already know what that means. The 2025 Year of the Horse nengajo is not just a holiday card. It is a reflection of disciplined experimentation, cultural fusion, and two artists who have spent more than a decade testing ideas together in every possible medium.
Buy your nengajo today through Thom’s official site at thomsmithart.com and support artists who merge sound, motion, and illustration into something living. The design is limited edition, hand crafted, and shipped directly from Japan. Get one, and you are holding the result of twelve years of rhythm, print, and process distilled into gold ink on black card.