Tunesmithing

Finally got my finger out and plugged in all my music-making toys. I've been working overtime the last couple of Saturday mornings so this weekend I was determined to do something for me. I've basically spent the entire weekend working on a new track. The fridge has been restocked so I guess I must have popped out at some point but I don't really remember. Ah, the joy of losing yourself in creativity.

I find the tunesmithing process goes something like this:

Find some interesting ingredients - single noises or sequences of sounds recorded from the real world, short musical phrases from old blues record or operas, electronically synthesised sounds, dogs barking, and so on. You have no particular idea how you are going to put them together or mess them up but something in your head tells you that, yeah, you can use that.

Lay down some basic foundations, nothing fancy, nothing clever, just some stock building blocks to get things going.

Start playing, fiddling, tweaking, experimenting with your sound ingredients, with melodies, effects. Ideas occur to you as you go along. Some of them work, some of them don't, and then you stumble over some cool noise by pressing a wrong button and, woof, you're off in a completely different direction than you intended but, hell, it sounds great so you go with it.

You're flying now, you're not even thinking about what you are doing. It's as if the work is creating itself, tumbling out of your head, fitting itself together, directing you to make it right. Whoops, no buddy, that won't work. Sorry, back up, head off down a slightly different path. That's it.

And then you realise hours have gone by and you completely forgot to eat and, oh boy, you really need the toilet.

But the work is good. Yeah, that's fucking good and you're a genius. It's almost done but... hmm... it just needs a little... something... to finish it off... a little something extra. But you're tired and you've been working on this thing all day and your senses are dulled and need to rest. Yes, rest. Take a break. You need to step away, leave the work to marinate, come back to it tomorrow refreshed, alert, fresh and able to think more clearly about what that one last ingredient could be, that final pinch of seasoning.

It is good though, isn't it? Oh yes, it's good. You fucking genius, you.

You jump out of bed the next day, eager to get back to work, desperate, even. You listen to the work with not a little trepidation. What if it's not as good as I thought it was yesterday? What if it sounds shit? No, it's still good, it's almost there but, yes, it still needs that one last little something to make it complete.

But what? Don't know. You could try this... ugh, no. Try that... shit, that's even worse. Hmm... how about... no, no. Damn it. Fuck. Come on, think. Gah! No, that's not right... that's not right either... ah, for fuck's sake, what does it want? Fucking thing. Stupid bastard bloody piece of shit...

And you can't bear to listen to it anymore. In frustration and disgust you put it away, try to distract yourself with something else, a book, a film, anything to take your mind off that blasted tune. But you can't concentrate on anything else. The damn tune is stuck in your head demanding your attention and pushing all else out. It refuses to leave you alone, taunts you, goads you. C'mon, I'm incomplete. Finish me, damn you. You can't leave me like this. I won't leave you alone until you finish me off.

OK, you can do this. Just play around. Don't think too hard. Experiment. Play. Don't fret, just muck about until something slots into place. Maybe this. Or this. Or... ooh, hang on, what's that? Yes, that's interesting. That would... that might work if you... yes, yes, that's it. Oh yes, that is it. There it is. And then if you also... and then maybe... oh, fuck, yes! You beauty! That's what it needed. That. Is. Motherfucking. It.

You are happy. The work is happy. Your genius is affirmed.

It's done.

Finished.

Absolutely, positively finished.

Yup.

Although, you could maybe...