The Studio

I apologize for my absence on this blog of late. I've been in the studio the past three weeks recording the third full length album for The Classic Crime. It's been an amazingly rewarding experience on one hand, and an extremely time consuming one on the other. This has been the fastest we've ever worked on a record, but it also feels like the most thorough. I've been inspired by the process and I'd like to sort out some of my thoughts on it.

I'll admit that I've never been as closely involved with one of our records as I am with this one. All of the songs save one were written this year, the same year I decided to start this blog. I feel like being able to write on this thing has improved my writing and how I communicate through a song, it's also given me an outlet and a focus that I haven't had before. Subsequently, this record is (I hope) more honest, poignant and raw, and I can honestly say that I believe this is the most "us" we've ever been.

On this record we've been learning that musical perfection is the sum of imperfect parts. On The Silver Cord (our last record) we experimented with tempos that moved and songs that had a natural ebb and flow. This record is even more dramatic. Only two songs were tracked with a click track (or a metronome for those who are unfamiliar) to keep time. We weren't too focused on the most technically perfect performance, the perfect tuning, or the perfect timing. The end result - what the imperfect parts create - is the perfect vibe, emotion or feeling, and that's what were going for.

Those who know us know that we are a band consumed with creating songs that focus on energy, melody and meaning as opposed to posturing and gimmicks. Not that there's anything wrong with gimmicks, we've just never been very good at them. We've always felt a need to be relevant, to speak to our generation in a language they can understand. I'll say in past records we've proudly worn our influences on our sleeves, maybe partly because we hadn't truly found our unique "sound" yet, but I also think it's partly because we knew that other relevant bands had had success with the same sounds. This record is different. The influences are there, but its such a progression from them. When I listen to these songs we're creating, it doesn't feel like we're doing a great job borrowing or building on our influences, it feels like we're doing something new and better. It feels like we're making important music.

We probably wont sell a million records. We probably wont sell a hundred thousand records. I'm aware that we might not sell any records, but that wont take away from the fact that I love this record. I love this direction, and that is gratifying enough.

We've got something for everyone on this album, some old "us," some new "us," and some "us" you've never heard before. We're the most "us" we've ever been and I love it.

Tapering

I'm in taper mode. In two weeks we will head into the studio and as per usual my mind is focused on that task and that task alone. Unfortunately, we only practice a couple hours a day and make our arrangements via email, which means I spend much of what is left of my time on mindless things. My passion is all tied up in something that will happen, so it seems I really have none left to spend in the present time. I'm usually a live-for-the-moment type of person, but now I'm just scraping by momentarily. I'm living for the future. Practice, plan, sleep. Those are my priorities.

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."