So you want to make an album? (part 20)
KeithHandy posted in Producing, So You Want... on October 1st, 2007
The fact that this installment is about finishing stuff does not mean the series itself is finished. It just happens to be timely for me. If/when I make this into a book, I’ll be sure to arrange the chapters more logically.
To read the entire series, go to the “So You Want…†category.
Installment 20: Let go of the baby!
Wrapping things up seems like it would be a simple matter of putting in the time and effort until your song or album is “done”. That assumes “done” is a simple notion. First, you will be “pretty much done”, then you’ll be “basically done”, and then you’ll be “really done”, and then you’ll be “absolutely done”, and so on. It’s a maddening series of greater degrees of done-ness. During all these stages you’ll of course be apologizing to everyone for how rough the mix is, even though most people — unless your target audience happens to consist entirely of seasoned producers — won’t be able to hear the difference by now.
But it’s not just the technical tweaking that you have to contend with; there’s a much harder psychological process involved in making the decision that it’s okay for your little one to be sent out into the world to be eaten alive by the wolves. (It won’t really be eaten, but it will be stepped on, pushed aside, and drowned out by the noise of the world en route to its true audience.)
Think about this: when someone puts a song out, they use the word “release”. They say they are releasing the song. What does that really mean, literally? It means letting go. Music came to you from somewhere in the time space continuum, as a raw wave of inspiration, and you were given the task of raising it, molding it, and dressing it up nicely. It was on loan to you. You were its nanny or foster parent, but it is (and has always been) part of the larger cosmos, something that exists “within you and without you” (to borrow a George Harrison lyric), and in the grand scheme of things, has nothing to do with your ego, apart from the fact that it had a symbiotic relationship with your ego for a period of time. You’ve just had the great opportunity to work first-hand with something eternal and larger than you — music — and when you’ve done all you can do to shape it into something that fits on a CD and complements the stereo equipment your listeners will be playing it on, you need to step out of its way and let it find its place in the world.
The problem is, by the time we get this far, the relationship between the music and our ego has gone from symbiotic to co-dependent. We’re thinking, “this music reflects me“. How does that hamper our ability to promote the work? Well, for one, we might feel a weakened ability to stand behind a song if the lyrics (for example) come from a less advanced stage in our emotional development — especially if, like me, you take a long time to record music. But if we’re always growing, as we should be, wouldn’t this always be the case? The music came to us when we were at a particular stage for a reason. If the music had wanted “more mature lyrics”, it would have waited longer to come to you, or it would have gone to a more mature person. Whatever perspective you had when you wrote it, that’s what the audience for that song is going to identify with. What matters is that your newer material reflects your growth, so that your audience can grow with you. (Revising stuff is fine if you still feel the song, but your primary motive shouldn’t be the ego-fueled avoidance of embarrassment.)
This is just one of a zillion ways an unhealthy ego-music relationship can manifest as a stifling of your creative flow; and when I say “flow”, I’m talking about the Big Flow, all the way from inspiration to expression (if it hasn’t reached an audience, it hasn’t been “expressed” yet). The solution is to deal with this early on. Don’t wait until the mastering stage to face your separation anxiety!
Your ego is important, mind you. Your ego is the carpenter, the craftsman. Your ego sets up the scaffolding, pours the concrete, and makes sure wood is being cut to the right length. In a more literal sense, your ego establishes key and tempo, it sets the recording levels, it selects what instruments to use, and makes sure they’re in tune. Your ego picks the best takes, guides you to flaws that need to be fixed (or covered up), and generally leads you through all the stages from basic tracking to overdubbing to mixing to mastering. Your ego deals with the structure-oriented aspects of funneling music into a tangible form. This is something you and your ego can be proud of.
But that first inspired moment you had, when you first started playing those chords in that order, and suddenly had a shiver down your back, or a heightened sense of “realness” — that would be a good time to start thinking grateful, thankful thoughts towards whoever or whatever out there just handed you this gift — or call it a “curse” if it amuses you. Actually it’s a little of both, and maybe a responsibility too, but mostly a gift. And a compliment. So accept the compliment, and do your best, but remember all the while that it chose you, and not the other way around.
Thinking this way will make things like mixing and mastering so much easier. Because instead of confusing the process with your need for the music to “represent you”, you can listen to it as an audience member. A very special audience member, but an audience member nonetheless. It’s not you; it’s it, and you’re you. With that out of the way, it will be so much simpler to say, “okay, needs this turned up a bit here, and, ah, that’s better — now this needs to be adjusted like this, and — yes, good”. On the other hand, if your ego is still attached to it, nothing will sound right, no matter what you do.
So how do you let go of the baby? Early and often. Any time you start to feel your ego attaching itself to a song, gently remind yourself that you’re just the conduit, that if you weren’t qualified to handle the job you wouldn’t have been chosen for it, and if you do your best, that’s absolutely good enough.
