Today we’d like to introduce you to TJ Dumser
Hi TJ, we’re thrilled to have a chance to learn your story today. So, before we get into specifics, maybe you can briefly walk us through how you got to where you are today?
Six Missing began quietly—born out of stillness, late-night looping sessions, and a need to slow down. Before that, I spent over a decade and a half in New York City, working as a mix engineer and sound designer, bouncing between studios, chasing deadlines, and playing shows nearly every weekend (and most weeknights). It was a beautiful kind of chaos, but eventually, I realized I was giving everything to the noise and leaving very little for myself.
Six Missing started as a way to reclaim some of that space. It was never meant to be a project, at first—it was a personal ritual. I’d sit with a guitar or a synth, loop a phrase, and let it carry me somewhere quieter. Over time, I began sharing those pieces, and to my surprise, people resonated with them. They weren’t just listening—they were using the music to sleep, to meditate, to grieve, to write, to return to themselves.
That’s when it clicked. I wasn’t just making ambient music—I was holding space. Six Missing became a container for presence and reflection, blending my years of technical work with something far more vulnerable. Since then, the project has grown in ways I never expected: signing with Nettwerk, collaborating with artists like The Album Leaf, and building a global audience of listeners who use this music as a kind of compass.
At its core, Six Missing is still about coming home to yourself. It’s ambient music for humans being.
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
The road’s had its share of twists, no doubt—but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. In 2016, I made the leap to go fully independent. I left the safety net behind and became my own boss, which was equally terrifying and liberating. At the time, I didn’t have a roadmap—I just knew I wanted to work on music that felt meaningful, with people who were passionate about what they were creating.
That same year, I quietly started releasing music as Six Missing—mostly for myself. I was sharing ambient sketches with no real expectation that anyone would hear them. At first, no one really did. But over time, the music began to find its way. Listeners started showing up, writing messages, sharing how the music helped them sleep, focus, grieve, or simply be. Today, Six Missing has nearly 100 million streams worldwide. It still feels surreal.
Since going independent, I’ve been lucky to collaborate with incredibly talented artists, filmmakers, and creatives—people who care deeply about their work. And that’s been the best part: being surrounded by that kind of energy every day. I get to help shape soundtracks for stories that matter, and I get to build a life around a kind of freedom I never had when I was bouncing from studio to studio.
Of course, there have been ups and downs. There were months early on when I wasn’t sure how I’d pay rent. There were stretches of burnout, self-doubt, and the kind of silence that can either be maddening or transformative—depending on how you meet it. But every challenge forced me to get clearer about my values, my boundaries, and what kind of life I actually wanted to live.
Choosing to bet on myself was the hardest and best decision I’ve ever made. It’s led me to create a project like Six Missing, which never would’ve existed if I hadn’t made space for it. The road hasn’t been smooth, but it’s been mine—and that’s what makes it worth walking.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
At its heart, Six Missing is about creating space—for stillness, for feeling, for remembering who you are beneath the noise. I make ambient music that invites presence. It’s not just background sound—it’s a kind of companion. A soft place to land.
The project was born from a deeply personal need to slow down and reconnect with myself. Over time, it’s become something much larger—a body of work that people use to meditate, to sleep, to grieve, to write, to heal. That’s what moves me the most: knowing the music has found its way into some of the most vulnerable and sacred parts of people’s lives.
What sets Six Missing apart isn’t just the sound—it’s the intention. Every piece is made with care and a kind of quiet reverence. I see music as a spiritual practice. A way to reach something beyond words. I’m not trying to impress anyone—I’m trying to connect. And I think people can feel that.
I’m most proud of how far it’s come. From quietly uploading loops to now reaching nearly 100 million streams worldwide, the growth has been humbling. But the numbers matter far less to me than the messages I receive—notes from people who say the music helped them feel less alone, or made them cry in a good way, or gave them a moment of peace when they needed it most. That’s why I do this.
Six Missing isn’t just a project—it’s a place. And I’m honored that people choose to spend time in it.
Can you share something surprising about yourself?
Something a lot of people don’t know about me is that I’m sober. It’s been a big part of my journey—personally and creatively. I went through some dark chapters earlier in life, and finding my way out of that, and into a more grounded, present version of myself, changed everything. It’s one of the reasons Six Missing exists. The music became a kind of medicine—first for me, and now, I hope, for others too.
Sobriety taught me how to sit with stillness, how to feel things fully, and how to build something slowly, without shortcuts. That practice of patience and presence shows up in every piece of music I make.
Also—plot twist—I know every line of Back to the Future. It’s my all-time favorite film, and I’ve watched it more times than I can count. Funny enough, for a project so rooted in presence and slowing down, I’ve always loved a movie obsessed with time travel. Maybe that’s the balance: honoring where we’ve been, being fully here now, and dreaming about what’s possible when we hit 88 miles per hour.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.sixmissing.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sixmissing
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sixmissingofficial
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/tjdumsersound/
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/c/SixMissing
- Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/sixmissing
Image Credits
Photos: Andrea Mendoza
