Me in the studio 1994

Me in the studio 1994

I found a replacement component for my music studio.  It was much, much cheaper than I originally thought.  It should be here by Thursday. 

Yesterday I had lunch with someone to discuss the possibility of collaborating musically.  We bumped into each other last week and she asked me about recording.  Seems like we both have the same tastes musically and we’re both the same age.  I like that.  The age thing.  She just wants to  make music.  Not really chasing fame and rainbows.  Famebows?

She gave me a CD of her recent work.  It was intimidatingly good.  Ray and I listened to the first two tracks while driving home last night.  Just as I was thinking how much her style is similar to what I’d like to do, Ray turns to me and says,

“This kind of sounds like your stuff.”

Could life, the universe, God, be setting me up for my final frontier?  I have always wanted to produce music but had to deal with a self-appointed creative block the size of Manhattan.  The past two years were dedicated to getting past that block.  Practice the guitar! Get your studio up and running!! Keep singing, no matter what!!  I just feel like I suck!  I am my own worst critic and I’m good at what I set my mind to.  You do the math.  Medic, I need a medic!  I’m beating the shit out of myself over here. 

I have invited my potential new partner in crime over this Sunday to check out the studio and to play some of my own less intimidating music.  I had a little review of my “collection” last night.  Fuck, it sounds terrible in comparison to her refined polished sparkly stuff. 

In all honesty, I’m scared to take this leap of faith.  What if I totally suck?  What if she tells me that I need a few more years before I should even try to produce anything and then eats my head off?  Oh fuck it, I’m just going to give it a shot anyway.

10 Thoughts on “This Kind Of Sounds Like Your Stuff

  1. ‘If they come in the night’ by Marge Piercy

    I said, I like my life. If I
    have to give it back, if they
    take it from me, let me only
    not feel I wasted any, let me
    not feel I forgot to love anyone
    I meant to love, that I forgot
    to give what I held in my hands,
    that I forgot to do some little
    piece of the work that wanted
    to come through.

    This is the same writer whose only advice to other writers was always the same five words:

    “Go on. Go on anyway.”

  2. Alice on 04/02/2009 at 12:53 PM said:

    The first thing to remember is to have fun. And try not to put so much pressure on yourself. Again have fun. Did I mention that you should have fun with this. You are so much better then you give yourself credit for, but we are always are more critical of ourselves. Please say to yourself, the first thing I need to do is have fun making/producing music.

    Love you.

  3. I am so going to thank you both on my first album.

  4. You should write a song about me!

  5. By all means, jump into it. Her stuff is polished? Polish can be added, polish is worked on after you have a good structure to start with. That’s what collaboration is all about.

    I’m eager to hear what you come up with.

  6. If there’s a Homer song it must have an accordian part in it. Or a bandoneon. I feel very strongly about this.

  7. How’s about Tuvan throat-singing?

  8. [Insert lurid joke about ‘throat’ and ‘singing.’]

  9. That’s right! “Give it a go,” as they say in Australia.

  10. Jump!

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