I really needed to read something like this today. Ive been having a hell of a time trying to find people to jam with who get that music is about more than just technical skill. It's almost impossible to explain to someone who doesn't get it that being a musician, in my worldview, is more than recreating Speed Kills by Michael Angelo Batio of the band Nitro (link for the uninitiated: https://youtu.be/hb5QaCfm7bg).
One of the biggest lessons I've learned with writing is that the more miles you've got on your bones, the more-likely you are to write something that both resonates with folks and gives you that cathartic feeling of emotional release, that you finally got something out there that aligns with what you want to express. I keep hearing "oh, I can't write lyrics" from every kid who made a Twitter profile for his band before they ever wrote a song, or anyone who spends all day playing guitar and doing and nothing else. And it takes everything inside of me to not say "no shit."
I think it could be helpful to revisit your old music to gain inspiration, as long as you're not doing it for the wrong reasons. I don't think it's any different than someone revisiting old journals to gain new perspective. Personally, I used to be a shitty songwriter. I still am, but I used to, too. Ive got tracks spanning a decade on hard drives stuck in dead computers, hidden from the world as private on Bandcamp and SoundCloud and YouTube and Putlocker, in my phones voice memos, and scribbled out onto notebooks that are fading away. I've got songs that are straight cringe. I have songs that I'm ashamed I wrote. But when I go back to them, I'm looking at them from a different POV: knowing more than I did when I wrote it, having more time with the thoughts and feelings that led me to write it. I think writers can (and do) revisit their old creations with an egotistical or narcissistic frame of mind, which results in a derivative new creation that is missing the spark of the first. But I also think that if you can objectively evaluate your work with the added benefit of a couple trips around the block, especially if youve been away from it for a while, that it can have the same type effect on your pov as something entirely new. I guess if you're looking at it as a "People liked this and I need to recreate that feeling (because I like the attention/fame/money/whatever and my music is simply a tool to get me what I really want)", you're going to fail for the exact same reasons as someone who only listens to Bad Religion and tries to make (what they think is) a Bad Religion record.
I'm really looking forward to Part 2, where I predict we'll finally meet the omniscient parrots who play an integral role in your process and are, in fact, the "wandering birds" I've heard so much about.
I thought about reading this all night while I was working, since I saw it in my inbox right before I went in.
1. Sex masters ultimately just want to feel important, so just play the little game until they trust you enough to be left alone (without being handcuffed or tied up), kinda like the guy (Ariel Castro) who held 4 girls captive in Ohio in the early ‘00s. Basically, they were there with him so long he got lax, and they started going outside like, around the block, then down the street and all of a sudden they were at the neighbor’s house, banging on the door and asking for help. (Note: this probably won’t work if your neighbor is also a sex master.)
2. I’m not a writer of lyrics, as I have zero musical inclination, but this has inspired me to grab a notebook and a pencil (mechanical only) and start writing again. I think these steps can absolutely apply to other writings. If you don’t consume other ideas, you can’t come up with your own, you can’t learn to see things through the many and varied lenses of life.
I really needed to read something like this today. Ive been having a hell of a time trying to find people to jam with who get that music is about more than just technical skill. It's almost impossible to explain to someone who doesn't get it that being a musician, in my worldview, is more than recreating Speed Kills by Michael Angelo Batio of the band Nitro (link for the uninitiated: https://youtu.be/hb5QaCfm7bg).
One of the biggest lessons I've learned with writing is that the more miles you've got on your bones, the more-likely you are to write something that both resonates with folks and gives you that cathartic feeling of emotional release, that you finally got something out there that aligns with what you want to express. I keep hearing "oh, I can't write lyrics" from every kid who made a Twitter profile for his band before they ever wrote a song, or anyone who spends all day playing guitar and doing and nothing else. And it takes everything inside of me to not say "no shit."
I think it could be helpful to revisit your old music to gain inspiration, as long as you're not doing it for the wrong reasons. I don't think it's any different than someone revisiting old journals to gain new perspective. Personally, I used to be a shitty songwriter. I still am, but I used to, too. Ive got tracks spanning a decade on hard drives stuck in dead computers, hidden from the world as private on Bandcamp and SoundCloud and YouTube and Putlocker, in my phones voice memos, and scribbled out onto notebooks that are fading away. I've got songs that are straight cringe. I have songs that I'm ashamed I wrote. But when I go back to them, I'm looking at them from a different POV: knowing more than I did when I wrote it, having more time with the thoughts and feelings that led me to write it. I think writers can (and do) revisit their old creations with an egotistical or narcissistic frame of mind, which results in a derivative new creation that is missing the spark of the first. But I also think that if you can objectively evaluate your work with the added benefit of a couple trips around the block, especially if youve been away from it for a while, that it can have the same type effect on your pov as something entirely new. I guess if you're looking at it as a "People liked this and I need to recreate that feeling (because I like the attention/fame/money/whatever and my music is simply a tool to get me what I really want)", you're going to fail for the exact same reasons as someone who only listens to Bad Religion and tries to make (what they think is) a Bad Religion record.
I'm really looking forward to Part 2, where I predict we'll finally meet the omniscient parrots who play an integral role in your process and are, in fact, the "wandering birds" I've heard so much about.
I thought about reading this all night while I was working, since I saw it in my inbox right before I went in.
1. Sex masters ultimately just want to feel important, so just play the little game until they trust you enough to be left alone (without being handcuffed or tied up), kinda like the guy (Ariel Castro) who held 4 girls captive in Ohio in the early ‘00s. Basically, they were there with him so long he got lax, and they started going outside like, around the block, then down the street and all of a sudden they were at the neighbor’s house, banging on the door and asking for help. (Note: this probably won’t work if your neighbor is also a sex master.)
2. I’m not a writer of lyrics, as I have zero musical inclination, but this has inspired me to grab a notebook and a pencil (mechanical only) and start writing again. I think these steps can absolutely apply to other writings. If you don’t consume other ideas, you can’t come up with your own, you can’t learn to see things through the many and varied lenses of life.
3. Can’t wait to read the rest.
Just so we're clear: I was longing to read this and had zero clue until I did.