We're nearing the home stretch on building the studio. The staff is here working full time and the energy is really starting to fill the house.
Even though the recording console is still being assembled, Steve and I had to take advantage of the tools of our trade being around us.
It feels GREAT to lose time and space by getting into a groove and staying there.
This is a jam on the chord progression to "Stitched Up." I decided to pick up my 8-string guitar and remembered that I had written the changes on it, so it came naturally to play it with Steve, who also played on the track. If you have a laptop you may want to plug headphones/speakers in, because the low stuff feels really good...
Sometimes I write songs by way of putting music to an idea, and other times I write by putting ideas to music. The latter is much more difficult but somehow more instantly gratifying. I still can't believe that I can take any sound file I want, burn it onto a CD and then listen to it in the car. I guess I love the way that the environment of listening to music on a road trip makes everything sound so much more official.
You see enough of the goofy side, but that's always to blow off steam after the more earnest part comes out to play for a while. I figured I'd give you a little balance.
Here's a tune that I was working on the other night before we decided to have fun with music theory, and ever since I started singing over it, it took me to such a beautiful and hopeful place, like that last hour of sun in the Summer. I figured the best way to get into the head space of the song was to literally sit in the scene I wanted to write about. I came home with a voice recorder full of melodies and lyrics. There's something I like about this groove that's hopeful but not shiny and bright.
Here it is. Gibberish. Lyrics that mean nothing. Arrangements set in sand. But a vibe. Maybe it grows into a full song, maybe it just informs another. But being my own producer (as all songwriters are) means saying to myself 'just write it.' Judging a song while writing it is like grounding a toddler. I don't know how, but trust me.
California Fleetwood Mac sunset post-shower going out window down new Summer hopeful.
This picture sums up the whole Mayercraft experience:
Show yourself.
Be yourself.
Enjoy yourself.
Play hard, so that you are in debt to yourself,
so that you must then work hard to repay it.
You're not better than anybody else,
but NOBODY is better than you.
Can't dance? SAYS WHO?
And when you've returned to dry land,
back into your roles,
where the world tells you what to do again,
right before you start doing it,
you'll smirk and think to yourself
"That was big, big, fun."
The word "fans" doesn't cut it.
Thanks for one of the best times of my life.