Most of my nights consist of hours on the couch marveling at things that most people would find un-marvelous. If you read my tweets you'll find a striking commentary on all things Discovery Channel. I realize this is borderline foolishness, but it's really all I can do to distract myself from the task at hand. It is far too easy to sit and obsess about the daunting and emotionally taxing undertaking that inevitably awaits me. The task that will in some ways define me. People will see me, hear me and feel me in a new way, and maybe they won't like it. Maybe they won't like me. It's always terrifying to make a record, and even more terrifying when people are relying on you, waiting with expectant ears to be impressed or let down. Which is it going to be? I'm not sure, but compared to the Polar Bears on Planet Earth my task seems quite trivial. Oh, sweet beautiful perspective.
Tapering is something that athletes do. Marathon runners will cut back on training and perhaps not run at all for a week or so before a race. With musicians it's the opposite. The studio is coming so we must practice, and more frequently as the date comes nearer to ensure that once we enter those studio doors the money spent there will not go to waste. We don't taper our training, but I feel my mind tapering in expectation of the studio. Perhaps I'm limiting myself now with the foolish hope that my creative mind will bloom in a few weeks. Maybe after a few weeks of drought my mind will be faced with an enervating task which will be met with a sudden, recharged wave of creativity. Wishful thinking? Probably. I imagine that psychologists would say that my mind will only be as active as I train it to be, and that I should be reading and scheming and listening and dreaming. How I wish I could be! I cannot pick up a book without thinking of some part of the recording process, a process which to my detriment I am much more familiar with this time around.
There are some moments when I catch a glimpse of what this record might look like when its done. These are calming, peaceful moments. They happen sometimes as I glance over the track listing or listen to demos. Suddenly, for a split second I can hear the songs done and in perfect order with perfect performances. I can see the record move from one track to the next with the live energy and emotion necessary to communicate exactly what it should. I really hold on to these moments, because most moments I listen to the demos and think, "Oh... crap."