Unfamiliarity as Muse
October 30, 2008 Filed in: Songwriting
Please excuse the tardiness and non-activity of my
blog. The marathon just about killed me this time.
I'm retiring from endurance sports. That said, the
blog is back.
I mentioned on my podcast that I was doing a lot of writing now-a-days. Upon my completion of the studio, I decided to launch into one last writing period before picking up work on the next solo record(s). The latest problem with recording The Return of Spring is that, while the songs are very new to my listeners, most of them have been around for years. I'm taking one last stroll down the tryptic; one last perusal of the flowers before jumping into the inevitable.
The writing period will end when I've finished thirty songs. I know that sounds like a lot, but I'm already twenty songs into the process. I'm doing really rough four-track demos of the songs as soon as they are complete. There's not a lot of thought put into the production/archival recordings of these things. Just set it and forget it. Everything is one take. I'll be sharing a song from these sessions on each new podcast.
The way I've been keeping the muse alive is by embracing unfamiliarity. Rather than pick up a guitar and lock myself in a room until I have a song, I'm trying something a little more fun. I'll try to use, as much as possible, instruments, sounds, patches, and/or samples, that are unfamiliar to me. This past week, for example, I wrote songs only on a mandolin. The week before that, I wrote only on a Wurly. I play neither a mandolin or a Wurlitzer with much frequency. So, the things I was "pulling down" seemed, if for a brief moment, new and unfamiliar. This is great for my artist brain. We had a good time with these tactics. All of us.
Is the material any good? I don't know. I'm more concerned about what I have to say and the way I say it rather than affirming it. Some of it falls short of an arbitrary mark, but a lot of it is really fresh. Most of the people I've played it for can't tell the difference between it and any of my previous stuff. I guess that's a good thing.
Stay tuned. More to come.
I mentioned on my podcast that I was doing a lot of writing now-a-days. Upon my completion of the studio, I decided to launch into one last writing period before picking up work on the next solo record(s). The latest problem with recording The Return of Spring is that, while the songs are very new to my listeners, most of them have been around for years. I'm taking one last stroll down the tryptic; one last perusal of the flowers before jumping into the inevitable.
The writing period will end when I've finished thirty songs. I know that sounds like a lot, but I'm already twenty songs into the process. I'm doing really rough four-track demos of the songs as soon as they are complete. There's not a lot of thought put into the production/archival recordings of these things. Just set it and forget it. Everything is one take. I'll be sharing a song from these sessions on each new podcast.
The way I've been keeping the muse alive is by embracing unfamiliarity. Rather than pick up a guitar and lock myself in a room until I have a song, I'm trying something a little more fun. I'll try to use, as much as possible, instruments, sounds, patches, and/or samples, that are unfamiliar to me. This past week, for example, I wrote songs only on a mandolin. The week before that, I wrote only on a Wurly. I play neither a mandolin or a Wurlitzer with much frequency. So, the things I was "pulling down" seemed, if for a brief moment, new and unfamiliar. This is great for my artist brain. We had a good time with these tactics. All of us.
Is the material any good? I don't know. I'm more concerned about what I have to say and the way I say it rather than affirming it. Some of it falls short of an arbitrary mark, but a lot of it is really fresh. Most of the people I've played it for can't tell the difference between it and any of my previous stuff. I guess that's a good thing.
Stay tuned. More to come.