Here's my new song, Lost Years. You’ll hear it’s a departure from my usual style. My creative process for this one was quite different. Trawling through my 'voice memo' app late one night, I came across a simple but catchy guitar motif, I hit repeat and wrote the lyrics in a short time, then headed upstairs and started recording the song.
There was no pressure. Enveloped in the adrenaline of creating, I laid down tracks and tinkered with the arrangement and instrumentation to my hearts content. I sent the song to my email and spent months listening to it on repeat as my run sound track, diggin’ the vibe and thinking about maybe re-recording it with someone else at the helm, a little faster and in a higher key.
Eventually I decided that this was how the song was meant to be. It was created without my usual background anxiety of wanting acceptance or to impress my peers.
In 2018 I had the classic ‘post-album burn out’, crushed with my own expectations and punishing myself for not doing certain things better or being more organised. From the outside it probably looked like a pretty well executed album release and tour, but even before the tour had begun my brain was already deep in despair feeling under prepared musically.
Doing this single release has been a really great process for me. When I got bogged down in decision-making I reminded myself that nothing will ever be perfect and to try to keep my viewpoint zoomed out on the big picture.
My goal going forward is to release music more often, track by track, to be aware of my anxiety, it’s causes and deal with that it a healthy and compassionate way.
It’s really easy to do nothing with your music, keep it private, dream big in your spare time. I’ll keep reminding myself it’s better to do something, anything, that spending time chained to my sky-high expectations, wishing I did something with that song.
Thanks so much for reading and listening, keep dreaming big, and putting those self-doubts in the back of your sock drawer where they belong.
Professional procrastinator. Drummer, swimmer, runner, rider.