The
last thing I always wonder when I finish an album project, and
especially one so conceptual as MB-LP, is if it was successful. It's
a given that I learned a ton while making it: about integrating
research into my writing, writing from different perspectives,
composing with loops, mobile recording, and mixing. So in that sense
it was successful. The product itself, though, is harder for me to
come to grips with. Unlike a lot of songwriters that talk about their
songs as being like their babies, once I'm done working on a song I
don't feel paternal affection for it, at least not in terms of
unconditional love. If I'm in the right headspace, I can appreciate
the thing I made, but it doesn't really tell me anything new about
how good it is.
I need other people for that, and at this
point I haven't had much feedback about the MB-LP material at all.
Even people who've heard it aren't automatically forthcoming with
specific opinions, which doesn't bode super well. If someone loves
something, they'll tell you. But my suspicion is that even if what
I've made is somewhat enjoyable, it will become more so the more the
listener understands about its construction and its aims. That takes
time, and charitable listening, two things that are in pretty short
supply outside of people who already know and like you.
I tried to have something
immediately appealing or arresting about the songs on MB-LP, but I
definitely feel that there are things I could have done to make the
songs catchier. Some I've avoided on (probably misguided) moral
grounds: lyrical and structural repetition, especially for looping music, is at a minimum,
there aren't a lot of cool sounds for the sake of having cool sounds,
or decadent processing on the tracks. Others I should have done but
didn't, like explore the possibilities of the loops more, write more
songs to pare down from, play them live more times before doing
demos. I'm sure I'm ignorant of still other ways, but I hope to learn
them someday.
I made a decision to have this
project be very conceptual, and to put that up front. The album and
track titles are four letter codes, for goodness sake. Bot that said,
my hope was always that the overarching concept wouldn't prevent the
songs from standing up on their own right. I find it difficult to
distil my ideas into something simple and communicable, and am not
the best judge of when I've done so. I write and evaluate my lyrics
on paper, which is not how listeners experience them unless they
have a lyric booklet. And since I don't make CDs, uh, good luck with
that.
My point is that a lot of the
things I spend time and effort on aren't readily apparent, or require
very specific knowledge or attunement to discern. And since most
people don't have the time or energy to find them, I have to either
temper my expectations of being generally appreciated or change what
I focus on. Alternatively, I could insert another step in the
process, after I have something I'm happy with but before anyone else
is, where I find ways to convert test listener complaints into
further accessibility. Having to do major revisions to things I
already enjoy is a daunting prospect, but if I want people who don't
know me to enjoy my music (and I think I do) I'm going to have to
suck it up.
All this is premised by the idea
that music isn't actually subjective. Or, if it is, then it's
possible for a good thing to appeal to a wider range of subjective
taste. Coming up with a plan of how to do this requires knowing who
you currently appeal to, so you can determine what you can change
without alienating those people while bringing new ones in. At my
scale, this means talking to the few people who I know like my music,
and trying to see what they think could be improved and what they
find essential. I've noticed in the past that when I put a collection
of songs together, the first five or ten people I ask will all praise
different songs, and my personal favourite will never be one of them.
So faced with this reaction every time, I've never been enthusiastic
about choosing a direction and seeing if I can stick to it. MB-LP is
an eclectic project by design, and I was hoping that in writing it
I'd be able to pick the types of songs out that I enjoy writing the
most. But I do have a sort of restlessness that makes me have to
throw an angry song into the cutesy ones, or vice versa. And that
goes for writing as well as performing; I hate to be one-note, and I
hate to just fulfil expectations. So in trying for homogeneity I
think I'm fighting a losing battle.
Definitely
I do notice that I enjoy writing happy, uptempo songs more than in
the past. I think when a lot of songwriters first start writing, they
feel like writing when they're sad or lonely or anxious, and so those
songs come the most naturally. For me at least, it took a while to
feel authentic and comfortable writing in happier, less introspective
modes. But now I am, and enjoying it, so there's some tangible
evidence that I'm improving, or at least broadening my range.
So I guess what I've said here
is that I think that making MB-LP was a valuable, fascinating
experience, and that through it I've become more aware of ways I can
write with greater success in the future. And sometime in the future,
when I'm feeling self indulgent, I can grab some earbuds and remember what I thought sounded good back then.
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