So. Here we are. A new year.
I just had a funny moment, looking back at my first post of 2020. I could ramble about the obvious problems that arose from the pandemic, but my main takeaway was this: You never really know what’s coming. As much as we all like to plan and predict, we are rarely correct. It’s a necessary futility, perhaps. But I’m learning to see plans as a direction to walk instead of some destination to arrive at. They’re just to get you moving, not to get you somewhere in particular.
I’ve spent the past month really rethinking different parts of my current life. I don’t make new year’s resolutions, but I enjoy taking stock of everything at the end of the year and deciding what to bring forward with me, and what it’s time to let go of. This year I took it further by really disconnecting from the internet and spending a lot more time with my thoughts, my work and my priorities.
A big topic that came up, to my surprise, is how I work on music.
I have made music largely the same way since 2003. I started similar to most people my age, who were teenagers playing music in the 90s, using a cassette 4-track and whatever mic wasn’t broken. I had a lot of fun doing this, but I didn’t take it remotely seriously. The idea that you could record at home and create anything more than a demo that you might show your friends seemed like an impossible bridge to cross. But then some affordable interfaces and music software started showing up on the market. I instantly had real track counts. I could mix and arrange ideas more freely, and I could look up articles and spend time on forums to learn how to improve. I was off to the races.
I have been collecting gear for almost 20 years now. I didn’t get my first car until I was almost 30 years old, because I would rather ride my bike and have a nicer mic, a better guitar, or upgrade my preamps. But the end result of all this, I realized recently, is no longer very satisfying. I am not a collector, by nature. I have no real sentimentality about my tools, beyond my upright piano and two acoustic guitars. And I don’t enjoy having tons of choices when it comes to recording. I have a dresser that I keep all my mics in, and I noticed that I almost never look in it. I have a few that I really like, and I stick to those unless they absolutely aren’t working. I am the same about preamps, plug ins, and all the other gadgets. I just don’t revel in the variety.
So I’ve decided to lean in and embrace that. I want to only work with things I enjoy, and get rid of all my rain day, once-in-a-blue-moon-this-is-useful items. I’m getting very Marie Kondo about it all. So I spent my holidays shooting out every piece of gear I own, and only the pieces I specifically had fun using get to stay. I’m selling 80 percent of it.
The other major change I am making is that I’m pulling away from the computer more. I’ll still use it in then place of a tape machine, more or less, but I am moving to mostly analog equipment again. I have always stayed away from analog due to its cost, it’s more complicated workflow and the space it takes up. But the truth is, I work alone and don’t need much of it. And every time I have had the opportunity to use hardware, it was strikingly more fun. You have to physically turn knobs and commit to ideas, and you don’t just watch a screen the entire time. And I think that is what I am missing above all at this point. My setup is very practical, but it isn’t much fun.
I have been at all of this for a long time, and I record all the time. There was a time when all the new conveniences technology offered were really exciting, not unlike the internet itself. It was rife with possibility, and there was always something just around the corner. These days? I spend much more time trying to reduce its footprint on my day-to-day, as it has become more problems than possibilities at this point. I’m learning that the line between those two is pretty thin. Choices are nice when they are in balance, but they can flip to being a burden pretty quickly. What once paved the way to new ideas is now choking them. I think this has slowly been happening to the process of making music for me. But it happened so slowly that I wasn’t tracking it. I just noticed I was having less fun.
I once read about a concept referred to as “positive regression.” The idea is not that you attempt to return to the past — that’s a fool’s errand. Instead, it’s looking at when you were last in a state of really enjoying yourself, in whatever manner you are observing yourself, then looking at the conditions that made it productive and enjoyable. Once you pinpoint it, return to that mindset as much as possible, then start walking again.
A personal example that came to mind was back when I was recording “The Roots”. I decided to really restrict myself with that album. I had 4 main tools for my sound pallet (acoustic guitar, piano, voices, and a floor tom), and only used 4 microphones (one for vocals, a stereo pair for instruments, and a dynamic mic for loud sources). The limitations had the side-effect of creating brain space -- I didn’t fish through sound sets or fiddle with mics when I was stuck. It made me look at the source material instead of some production trick when I needed to add interest. It made me get creative with the tools I had. I respond well to things like that in general -- just using whatever I have on hand. So I am taking that mindset to heart again, but with what I like and enjoy now that I am twenty years into this and knocking on 40 years old. I’m happy to say that it’s working. I am liking the recording process again, and I am really enjoying this lack of clutter, mentally speaking.
I believe this concept works in many aspects of life. There’s a professor at Harvard who studies happiness, and in and interview I saw with him he said the phrase, “If you want to be happier, remove things in the way. Adding rarely works for long.” That concept is ringing very loudly these days, and I am enjoying my new pursuit of simplicity. I’m curious where it will lead, both artistically and otherwise.
I hope this finds everyone well. And soon I’ll get back to sharing some actual work. But as a reminder, to stay up-to-date, sign up for my “Hidden Hollow Monthly Mailer.” I am much better at updating that one.