Dre Dupuis Finds Freedom in the Laundry Room with His Lo-Fi, Self-Titled Debut

LISTEN TO DRE DUPUIS FEAT. “DAYLIGHT” HERE

St. Catharines, Ontario–based singer-songwriter Dre Dupuis makes his full-length debut with a self-titled album that hums with raw immediacy and late-night electricity. Recorded entirely in his laundry room on a vintage Tascam Portastudio, the record channels the scrappy spirit of DIY heroes like Guided By Voices while pairing lo-fi textures with heartfelt, unguarded songwriting. Blending the punch of The Strokes, the introspection of Andy Shauf, and the lush harmonies of The Beach Boys, Dre Dupuis feels like a time capsule of creative freedom — an unfiltered snapshot of an artist falling back in love with making music.

“I wanted to make a record on my own at home,” Dupuis shares. “I finally decided to save up some cash, quit my job at the time, and go all in.” The result is an album born from catharsis and curiosity — a collection of ideas written and recorded in the quiet corners of his basement, fueled by caffeine, instinct, and a desire to create without expectations. “There’s no big concept tying these songs together,” he adds. “They were all written and recorded at night. Just the ramblings of a guy and his Portastudio in his laundry room.”

That sense of intimacy and immediacy defines Dre Dupuis from the first note. At its heart lies “Daylight,” the hypnotic opener and one of the first songs written for the record. Built from sampled drums, self-recorded percussion, and live one-pass mixing, it perfectly encapsulates Dupuis’ handcrafted approach — a process as organic as it is intentional. “I wrote it last November when I bunkered down in my basement and started writing the record,” he recalls. “I drank coffee late at night and didn’t sleep until I had a finished song.”

Cathartic, restless, and honest, “Daylight” acts as a quiet mission statement: a reminder that creation doesn’t need polish to feel alive. The song — and the record that follows — glows with the kind of authenticity that can only come from solitude. Every hiss of tape, every imperfect take becomes part of its charm, transforming the laundry room into both studio and sanctuary.

“There was a point in my life where I could feel myself losing the joy of making music,” Dupuis says. “It took longer than I hoped to get back here, but I had a blast writing and recording this record with the Portastudio.” That return to joy forms the emotional spine of Dre Dupuis — not a triumphant comeback, but a humble reclamation. The album is less about perfection than about rediscovery, finding meaning again in the act of doing.

With each track recorded, mixed, and shaped entirely by hand, the record stands as a testament to simplicity as a creative compass. Dupuis laughs about his process: “K.I.S.S. – keep it simple, silly.” But beneath that lighthearted mantra lies a deeper truth — one that speaks to artistic resilience and the value of trusting yourself. The analog process forced patience, intention, and a closeness to the material that digital workflows rarely allow.

“This record feels like a solid leap forward for me,” he says. “Quitting my job was the best move I could’ve made.” That leap — equal parts risk and liberation — gives Dre Dupuis its pulse. It’s an album that finds beauty in imperfection, comfort in solitude, and fulfillment in the quiet act of creating for creation’s sake.

At 30, Dupuis has crafted a debut that feels both nostalgic and new — steeped in tape hiss and heart. The songs carry the warmth of late-night confessions, stitched together by melody, momentum, and the hum of an old machine that still has stories to tell.

With Dre Dupuis, the artist reminds us that some of the best records don’t come from state-of-the-art studios or million-dollar gear — they come from the smallest rooms, the ones where you’re left alone with your thoughts, your tape deck, and the sound of yourself coming back to life.