Origin Story: We are Fitfo Labs
Origin Story: We are Fitfo Labs
Jun 1, 2025
Jun 1, 2025
How a Grassroots Dream Became a Platform for Creative Impact
How a Grassroots Dream Became a Platform for Creative Impact


Origin Story: We Are Fitfo Labs
Subtitle: How a Grassroots Dream Became a Platform for Creative Impact
Fitfo Labs was founded on a deep love for music, art, and creative expression. Before the Lab existed, I spent years writing songs, sketching designs, and dreaming of a space where artists could not only create — but be seen, supported, and celebrated.
That dream sat quietly inside a warehouse. For over three years, the space served as headquarters for my environmentally conscious construction company. I found a lot of love working with clients, designing architecture, and bringing amazing ideas to life. I brought my heart into every design, every project. But there was always a void. An itch construction couldn’t scratch.
Also, my nights and weekends told a different story. Bit by bit, the concrete floors were transformed into something else — a stage, a studio, a sanctuary. I was with D rock and Thomas, building and designing websites and dabbling into video edits. I was with Splash and Awall listening to them cook awesome music. We were having Fun and the hardened heart that I had developed from construction was slowly breaking free (though I didn’t know it at the time).
In early 2024, that transformation got real when Tillman asked me to be a part of his song: "Bloody Murder." As soon as I heard the beat (produced by Watson), I knew — this was calling my spirit. Not just the music, but Tillman himself. This felt important. Like air-in-my-lungs important.
His lyrics were heavy, straight from the soul. "I'm screaming bloody murder but nobody hears me..." That line hit me. This song was his scream — and I couldn’t ignore it. The universe was poking me on the back saying: wake up your soul again, young man.
It had been about seven years since I’d worked on my own music. My last session ended with a freestyle that felt like a send-off to myself: “I'll see you next time... next time bring your best, guy.” That was the night I decided to hang up the mic and start Earthcore Group.
But here it was — the full circle moment, one that I had nearly forgotten that I’d been waiting for.
Around a year earlier, I had randomly met Ross Peterson through OfferUp while looking for a Peloton bike for my dad. Long story short, I showed up to his house, we vibed, and I told my girlfriend at the time, “I think I met a real friend today.” A few days later, I came back with my dad to pick up the bike. We stood in his garage, waiting out the rain, admiring his late father’s pristine car. My dad asked Ross what he did. He said: "Music." I said: "HUH?" He said: "YUH." And that was that.
So back to "Bloody Murder" — the moment was now. With Tillman. With Ross. With the friends I already had in the industry. It would've been a sin not to commit. So I did.
Ross and I got to work. I dropped a verse. Tillman didn’t like the first one — still surprises me, I thought it was fire. So I scratched my head. Then, on a job site at my buddy Cliff Taylor’s house, I freestyled a new verse into my voice memos. Sent it to Tillman. He said, “That’s it.” Done. Record it.
Meanwhile, our studio in the warehouse had been slowly evolving. Jordan, Splash, Patrick, Fidel’s crew, Dana Toledo, and Shelby Smith had all helped build it from scratch. Splash and Awall had been recording nonstop — songs upon songs. I sat in sometimes, helped with lyrics, arrangements, creative direction. But I knew it wasn’t my time to commit fully. Music was my first love, and like any great muse, I knew it had the power to ruin me.
Until now.
We finished "Bloody Murder" and I decided it needed a video. I was tempted to just drop it under an alias and disappear… but Tillman deserved more. He was screaming bloody murder and I made it my quest to make sure he was heard — and seen.
I hit up Zlister, who had just dropped his incredible "Austin Texas" project. We brought in his manager and video producer — Sammie.
We shot the video. By then, I was all the way back in. Back into music. Training for a half Ironman. Still running the construction company (which only survived thanks to Jordan Schaller, My Brother Patrick, and my Dad — the true MVPs).
I was waking up early, hitting the studio with Ross, then job sites, then gym or the road bike, then the warehouse, then writing, then sending estimates, then sleep. And somewhere in that rhythm… a funny little idea hit me.
We were writing and recording music — but not really performing it.
I asked Jordan and Pat for help. We built a little wooden stage on the turf in the warehouse. Hooked a mic up to the PA. Simple.
One night, Nick Chase came by to record with Splash. I heard a part of his verse and felt it — it needed more emotional connection for a live moment. So we got on stage. Me, Awall, Splash… we took turns performing our own songs. We critiqued. We vibed. It was magic. The purest fun I’ve had in years (definitely built off the momentum of working with Ross and everything else at the time.)
The next morning, the idea hit me:
What if we made this a show? Like as in, we had artists of all shapes and sizes come and get on this stage. How do we even do that? What do I even mean by show? This was an important question, because of the type of person I am.
Like I mentioned earlier about music in general and specifically in its relation to me — when I do something, I do it all the way. I have never been a half-asser. If I'm in, I'm in. And when it came to the idea of this show I could feel it — I WAS ALL THE WAY IN.
So I started thinking on it — and I realized the first step was to have a partner.
(Note: the next paragraph is not self-deprecation, but realization of oneself. To know oneself is to know all of oneself and this blog is meant to be a space for me to explore that. Another note: this is really the first blog I've truly written. Third side note: journaling with handwriting is way harder than typing and I feel like this may also be my first time truly journaling. But those little journals are actually so cute, right?)
So — there was no way in the world I could pull something like this off by myself. I knew this.
I am creative in every sense of the word — and I am definitely good at multi-tasking mundane tasks. I shouldn't say this but I can be driving with my knee, on a conference call in the truck, while writing an email on the physical phone.
HOWEVER — this was different.
This was important. This was Tillman. This was music. This was legacy.
If I was to pour love into this idea then I had to jump in with both feet — but I really did need help and I knew it. There was no way I was going to head up the creation of the show, the actual creative ideas of the event, the hosting of the show AND all of the logistics that come with something like this. I mean — even thinking about reaching out to all of the artists and organizing their music — what about the audience? Who should we invite? Should we serve drinks?
We didn't even have chairs 😭
I reached out to Sammie, Z's Sammie. I said hey, I have this idea for a show and I'm curious if I could potentially hire you to help me manage this beast of an idea.
She agreed to hear me out on this idea and met me at the warehouse. I went through the idea — and wow did it sound rough. I realized this was really one of the first times I've even said all of this stuff out loud in one organized setting. I had talked to Thomas about shooting something of the sort and I had talked to Awall about recording the thing on Pro Tools so we had a live performance type of show. I had talked to Splash about performing and he was as cool as ever — "performing is the easy part," he said. Yeah, okay. I had talked to D rock about a website. But I had no idea how to actually and physically in REAL LIFE pull all of this off.
But I digress, back to Sammie. She got there and we sat at my favorite table (I had just gotten the place cleaned). We got situated and we met eyes. I could tell, she was actually hearing every word... not just nodding her head. But literally comprehending. Not just comprehending, challenging. Not just challenging, but co-creating. I can't quite explain how I knew, but I knew, something very important was happening in my life at that moment.
At one point in time, we had had enough talking and we walked outside. She asked me "So how are people going to get in?" I was like... "I mean… the front door." And that's when she was like "yeahhhh, because I was thinking something cool like Red Phone Booth or something. You know, like how they have to go to the phone booth with the code or something?"
And I was like "That's a really good idea."
We talked about where we could put a phone booth and walked around the outskirts of the warehouse. We talked logistics, we talked creative. We talked cost. And thennnn we talked music again and got off the subject. (We will come back to this later.)
So we sat back down at the table and she scribbled on her iPad while she asked me "And when do you plan on throwing this thing?" and I told her "Three weeks."
"What da hell? What da helly?"
I was like "Yes." WE can do it. It won’t be as hard as we think. Not to mention, that aligns perfectly with the release of the Bloody Murder music video. OH MY! What if we SCREENED the music video during the show. OMG — what if TILLMAN WAS ON THE PANEL AND WAS PART OF THE SHOW.
Well folks — she was right. The last three weeks have been WAY harder than anyone could've imagined.
We’ve built curtains. We've reached out to artists. We've made our first Partiful invite. We decided the phone booth idea wasn't IT — but it was the right energy — and we built an entire mock recording studio with a real microphone (flowing into Pro Tools). Damnit Sammie, you're a badass. We've built a website. We also reorganized and fixed up the entire warehouse. The amount of work it took to take the place from what it was to what it should be is something I'll save for another day.
But here we are — a few days before the first event and I am experiencing something I can only call "obedience." I literally feel like I'm doing something absolutely irresponsible and something undeniably necessary at the exact same time.
And the truth is — I love it.
Also, we've come up with a name... we have decided to call it:
A NITE IN THE LAB
Hope to see you all in a few weeks!
With Love,
- E
Origin Story: We Are Fitfo Labs
Subtitle: How a Grassroots Dream Became a Platform for Creative Impact
Fitfo Labs was founded on a deep love for music, art, and creative expression. Before the Lab existed, I spent years writing songs, sketching designs, and dreaming of a space where artists could not only create — but be seen, supported, and celebrated.
That dream sat quietly inside a warehouse. For over three years, the space served as headquarters for my environmentally conscious construction company. I found a lot of love working with clients, designing architecture, and bringing amazing ideas to life. I brought my heart into every design, every project. But there was always a void. An itch construction couldn’t scratch.
Also, my nights and weekends told a different story. Bit by bit, the concrete floors were transformed into something else — a stage, a studio, a sanctuary. I was with D rock and Thomas, building and designing websites and dabbling into video edits. I was with Splash and Awall listening to them cook awesome music. We were having Fun and the hardened heart that I had developed from construction was slowly breaking free (though I didn’t know it at the time).
In early 2024, that transformation got real when Tillman asked me to be a part of his song: "Bloody Murder." As soon as I heard the beat (produced by Watson), I knew — this was calling my spirit. Not just the music, but Tillman himself. This felt important. Like air-in-my-lungs important.
His lyrics were heavy, straight from the soul. "I'm screaming bloody murder but nobody hears me..." That line hit me. This song was his scream — and I couldn’t ignore it. The universe was poking me on the back saying: wake up your soul again, young man.
It had been about seven years since I’d worked on my own music. My last session ended with a freestyle that felt like a send-off to myself: “I'll see you next time... next time bring your best, guy.” That was the night I decided to hang up the mic and start Earthcore Group.
But here it was — the full circle moment, one that I had nearly forgotten that I’d been waiting for.
Around a year earlier, I had randomly met Ross Peterson through OfferUp while looking for a Peloton bike for my dad. Long story short, I showed up to his house, we vibed, and I told my girlfriend at the time, “I think I met a real friend today.” A few days later, I came back with my dad to pick up the bike. We stood in his garage, waiting out the rain, admiring his late father’s pristine car. My dad asked Ross what he did. He said: "Music." I said: "HUH?" He said: "YUH." And that was that.
So back to "Bloody Murder" — the moment was now. With Tillman. With Ross. With the friends I already had in the industry. It would've been a sin not to commit. So I did.
Ross and I got to work. I dropped a verse. Tillman didn’t like the first one — still surprises me, I thought it was fire. So I scratched my head. Then, on a job site at my buddy Cliff Taylor’s house, I freestyled a new verse into my voice memos. Sent it to Tillman. He said, “That’s it.” Done. Record it.
Meanwhile, our studio in the warehouse had been slowly evolving. Jordan, Splash, Patrick, Fidel’s crew, Dana Toledo, and Shelby Smith had all helped build it from scratch. Splash and Awall had been recording nonstop — songs upon songs. I sat in sometimes, helped with lyrics, arrangements, creative direction. But I knew it wasn’t my time to commit fully. Music was my first love, and like any great muse, I knew it had the power to ruin me.
Until now.
We finished "Bloody Murder" and I decided it needed a video. I was tempted to just drop it under an alias and disappear… but Tillman deserved more. He was screaming bloody murder and I made it my quest to make sure he was heard — and seen.
I hit up Zlister, who had just dropped his incredible "Austin Texas" project. We brought in his manager and video producer — Sammie.
We shot the video. By then, I was all the way back in. Back into music. Training for a half Ironman. Still running the construction company (which only survived thanks to Jordan Schaller, My Brother Patrick, and my Dad — the true MVPs).
I was waking up early, hitting the studio with Ross, then job sites, then gym or the road bike, then the warehouse, then writing, then sending estimates, then sleep. And somewhere in that rhythm… a funny little idea hit me.
We were writing and recording music — but not really performing it.
I asked Jordan and Pat for help. We built a little wooden stage on the turf in the warehouse. Hooked a mic up to the PA. Simple.
One night, Nick Chase came by to record with Splash. I heard a part of his verse and felt it — it needed more emotional connection for a live moment. So we got on stage. Me, Awall, Splash… we took turns performing our own songs. We critiqued. We vibed. It was magic. The purest fun I’ve had in years (definitely built off the momentum of working with Ross and everything else at the time.)
The next morning, the idea hit me:
What if we made this a show? Like as in, we had artists of all shapes and sizes come and get on this stage. How do we even do that? What do I even mean by show? This was an important question, because of the type of person I am.
Like I mentioned earlier about music in general and specifically in its relation to me — when I do something, I do it all the way. I have never been a half-asser. If I'm in, I'm in. And when it came to the idea of this show I could feel it — I WAS ALL THE WAY IN.
So I started thinking on it — and I realized the first step was to have a partner.
(Note: the next paragraph is not self-deprecation, but realization of oneself. To know oneself is to know all of oneself and this blog is meant to be a space for me to explore that. Another note: this is really the first blog I've truly written. Third side note: journaling with handwriting is way harder than typing and I feel like this may also be my first time truly journaling. But those little journals are actually so cute, right?)
So — there was no way in the world I could pull something like this off by myself. I knew this.
I am creative in every sense of the word — and I am definitely good at multi-tasking mundane tasks. I shouldn't say this but I can be driving with my knee, on a conference call in the truck, while writing an email on the physical phone.
HOWEVER — this was different.
This was important. This was Tillman. This was music. This was legacy.
If I was to pour love into this idea then I had to jump in with both feet — but I really did need help and I knew it. There was no way I was going to head up the creation of the show, the actual creative ideas of the event, the hosting of the show AND all of the logistics that come with something like this. I mean — even thinking about reaching out to all of the artists and organizing their music — what about the audience? Who should we invite? Should we serve drinks?
We didn't even have chairs 😭
I reached out to Sammie, Z's Sammie. I said hey, I have this idea for a show and I'm curious if I could potentially hire you to help me manage this beast of an idea.
She agreed to hear me out on this idea and met me at the warehouse. I went through the idea — and wow did it sound rough. I realized this was really one of the first times I've even said all of this stuff out loud in one organized setting. I had talked to Thomas about shooting something of the sort and I had talked to Awall about recording the thing on Pro Tools so we had a live performance type of show. I had talked to Splash about performing and he was as cool as ever — "performing is the easy part," he said. Yeah, okay. I had talked to D rock about a website. But I had no idea how to actually and physically in REAL LIFE pull all of this off.
But I digress, back to Sammie. She got there and we sat at my favorite table (I had just gotten the place cleaned). We got situated and we met eyes. I could tell, she was actually hearing every word... not just nodding her head. But literally comprehending. Not just comprehending, challenging. Not just challenging, but co-creating. I can't quite explain how I knew, but I knew, something very important was happening in my life at that moment.
At one point in time, we had had enough talking and we walked outside. She asked me "So how are people going to get in?" I was like... "I mean… the front door." And that's when she was like "yeahhhh, because I was thinking something cool like Red Phone Booth or something. You know, like how they have to go to the phone booth with the code or something?"
And I was like "That's a really good idea."
We talked about where we could put a phone booth and walked around the outskirts of the warehouse. We talked logistics, we talked creative. We talked cost. And thennnn we talked music again and got off the subject. (We will come back to this later.)
So we sat back down at the table and she scribbled on her iPad while she asked me "And when do you plan on throwing this thing?" and I told her "Three weeks."
"What da hell? What da helly?"
I was like "Yes." WE can do it. It won’t be as hard as we think. Not to mention, that aligns perfectly with the release of the Bloody Murder music video. OH MY! What if we SCREENED the music video during the show. OMG — what if TILLMAN WAS ON THE PANEL AND WAS PART OF THE SHOW.
Well folks — she was right. The last three weeks have been WAY harder than anyone could've imagined.
We’ve built curtains. We've reached out to artists. We've made our first Partiful invite. We decided the phone booth idea wasn't IT — but it was the right energy — and we built an entire mock recording studio with a real microphone (flowing into Pro Tools). Damnit Sammie, you're a badass. We've built a website. We also reorganized and fixed up the entire warehouse. The amount of work it took to take the place from what it was to what it should be is something I'll save for another day.
But here we are — a few days before the first event and I am experiencing something I can only call "obedience." I literally feel like I'm doing something absolutely irresponsible and something undeniably necessary at the exact same time.
And the truth is — I love it.
Also, we've come up with a name... we have decided to call it:
A NITE IN THE LAB
Hope to see you all in a few weeks!
With Love,
- E