How I wrote/recorded my album "Disposable" (2025)

Click to listen on YouTube, out now!!

This blog post will attempt to fully encapsulate as much of the writing/recording/mixing process of this album as possible, read below to find out just how I created this music. As for the cover art creation process, that is also described at the end of the article. In addition to the YouTube version, The album is also available for purchase via my online store. Enjoy reading!

The origins

Writing and recording this album took exactly 7 months and 5 days. Plus a week to finish mixing it before I sent it off for mastering. I guess it's worth noting I was working 30-50 hours a week (variably) during the entire production process, so this is an album I made in my "leisure-time."

The way I approached the songwriting was to parse through some half-completed ideas (just two or three barely completed melodies over some chords) I had saved from around two or three summers ago. These were ideas I abandoned before further developing but knew had some sort of potential. I started from there. I hadn't written anything with vocals since then, (I took a three year break) so I picked up where I had left off.

The Mosrite gospel copy guitar I used on the album

One of my missions for this album was to add more song-parts than previously. I think some of my previous EPs suffer from being a bit simplistic. The songs have like only two or three parts, whereas I've noticed a lot of popular rock songs will have maybe 6-10 song parts-- mini bridges, guitar solos, outros, little breaks in songs, etc. For this album I tried to add more variation. 

I completed seventeen demos total, and 12 songs made the final album.

I've been recording myself for almost twenty years, so I'm comfortable doing it by now. I've created a system where I can get ideas down fast and move from drums to guitar to bass, to vocals seamlessly. 

Using analog gear and keeping everything nearby is key. I can flip a few switches, pick up my guitar or sit down at the microphone and click "Record" and I'm tracking the album like it's nothing. Just like that. Everything (the gain levels, mic orientations, etc.) is already dialed into the analog mixer which just gets A/D converted via the interface. I never touch the mixer or the interface once I dial in the gain knobs, they just sit there. I only touch the mixer's ON/OFF switch. 

For guitar purposes, having a pedal-train is key, because I can tune up my guitar with my KORG pedal tuner and I'm tracking within seconds. What I'm trying to say is, I leave everything not only set up, but dialed the entire time I am tracking. Yes, for seven months straight. Another critical piece of gear in terms of this idea-- several 25 foot long "Pig Hog" XLR cables that allowed me to have a livable space (I recorded this album in my living room) as they essentially acted as one big snaked set of XLRs, along the wall of the room. That way I never had to step over any cables for seven months straight-- instead they are routed along the wall.

Notes on vocals and tracking

To jump right into tracking notes, a few songs required many repetitions. For example, the song "Lovebomb" was recorded in full five times in a row before I felt it was good. The vocals for "Turn the page" were redone several times (maybe about ten or twelve full takes) until I felt good about how I sounded.

The amp I used for guitar (absolutely cranked it this time around)

One fun fact is that I played the entire album on guitar and bass while standing up. I sat down for all the vocals-- a practice I quite enjoy. In the past I used to think you should stand up for vocals and probably it's best if you want to sing as best as possible to stand (because of air flow), however sitting provides a comfort level that makes for more natural vocal recordings for me. It's also worth mentioning I recorded the entire album without any monitoring system in place. 

I monitored my own vocals by artfully displacing the right earphone of my headphones (Sennheiser HD 280 Pro) while tracking vocals. I believe this process also contributes to some sort of mental magic when listening back and evaluating my own vocals. Because I haven't fully heard them (via monitoring) until they are recorded, once I listen to playback I have a certain percentage (say, 35%) of unknown vocal-delivery tone that I am able to evaluate further. It's a strategy to remove myself somewhat from becoming too familiar with my own voice while I'm tracking vocals. I focus less on the actual sound of my own voice and more on the feelings of how I'm singing that are inaudible. Over the course of the album there's only one track that I believe I could've done slightly better vocals on. 

Really the only mistake I noticed I made while tracking (and fixed many times) was singing a little too "hard" at times. I preferred to chill out a bit on the vocals and not try as hard. On one song I was super chilled out on the demo, and the final version I pushed my voice a little, which is sort of like emo-rock... but whatever.

How I make ideas

Early on in the writing/recording process, I felt like I had a lot of ideas and songwriting was effortless. I used a notebook to draft out ideas. As I started to write and record new songs I drafted out lengthy lists of song ideas (conceptual) that went to the 20+ range. I could draft an idea that would say something like, "Breeders Title TK guitar sound... Song about liquid metal/mercury, flow" and in my mind that would be enough of a starting point to create a snippet of music that would set the origin in place for the creation of at least an introductory melody over chords, maybe a drum part... and I could expand on that to create a tune. So I had a lot of ideas penned out like that and also names of B-sides I have recorded that I could've used as new material (although I never did this, and instead opted for writing everything from scratch).

I felt like everything was going well for the entire writing process, almost the entire duration. Only once did I make a time-wasting mistake and it was spending two weeks writing a song called "Pancake syrup" that conceptually held my interest, but once actualized didn't live up to my expectations.

More notes on engineering/creative process

Towards the end of writing and recording it's almost like I "blacked out." I just kept going without getting in my own head at all. I became very determined and serious once I had finished the twelve tracks to make sure I completed the album tracking correctly and make it as good as possible, but also making sure I was loose and carefree from a musical standpoint. This involved a significant amount of re-tracking songs once all twelve were written-- I'll elaborate more on this in a bit.

My pedalboard. The KORG tuner is my favorite.

I think a truth to music recording (and making art in general) is you have to balance between being natural, carefree and comfortable, effortless, really... but at the same time maintaining a very high level (systematic, almost) of focus and discipline-- if you can master and balance these two modes of thought, and also take a clear picture of what you're trying to do from your mind's eye into reality as cleanly as possible (while allowing for natural mistakes to occur) that's for the best. 

Personally, and I've said this before, if I'm tracking a song and there's some sort of small "mistake" on the recording, if it's something that's small enough, it's tolerable to me, insofar as... if I were to redo it, could I absolutely with full confidence do it better? If the answer is yes, I'll redo it. Many times, if it's a guitar take, the answer is yes-- I can replay stuff on guitar and almost always fix any errors because it's easy for me, but on vocals or drums it might be more subtle and if it's good enough, I just take it. Drums and the way I record mine (using only a few mics) heavily rely on dynamics-- if I hit a cymbal or snare an eighth of an inch differently it can change a lot from take to take. On one album cut I smashed my China cymbal in such a way that I wouldn't be able to re-create it in 100 tries if I had to. 

To me, there aren't any deal-breaker errors on the album from a technical standpoint. I spent extra time fixing every little thing, so that when I listen back in full nothing bothers me from the recorded audio. 

View of the drums, the orange music stand holds my reference sheets

I wonder about taking more time to write different bass lines that maybe hit on the root notes but also maybe walk along a bit more instead of being pinned to the guitar chords... but this can get tricky because I might inadvertently alter the harmonies in a negative way... so I normally don't do this. If I had to write entirely new, unique bass lines for every track I could potentially do it but I'm not sure how well and how long it would take. My approach would likely be to write melodies that matched the vocals but were variations on a theme (using a guitar, likely) and then use those as basslines. As much as I would like to do this, I evaluate the recordings on the spot for instantaneous feeling of yes or no and that's how I determine the songs are filled out enough. If I were to then spend extra time editing bass lines I'd be delaying the album's completion significantly while also messing with the fabric of the harmonies quite a bit and so it's a delicate task I often bypass when recording.

I did re-track some bass, though. For example, I knew I needed to play quarter notes on bass for 4-6 bars of a song instead of dotted half notes on a specific (unnamed) song. To fix it I re-tracked the entire song on bass again, two months after having originally recorded the song. I could've just left it but I knew I had to redo it because it would matter. When it came to this album I sorted through everything with a fine-toothed comb to make sure it lived up to my own quality standard.

How I tracked, then re-tracked

Believe it or not, as mentioned, I re-tracked a lot of the album. In fact, six songs (half the album) was re-recorded in three non-stop eight hour recording sessions by myself. I stayed up until two or three in the morning doing vocals on some songs, then clocked into work the next day at noon. Not bad. The next day, rinse and repeat. 

For example, In one seven hour session I fully re-tracked "I don't know," and "Ruin my life." A day later, I re-tracked "Seasonal" and "Day in the Life" in one night. And on the third day, "Fell into this world" and "Tomorrow is a new day" were re-tracked in a single night. This all happened without much thought about what I was doing, aside from mechanical considerations. I just knew it had to be done so I just did it without thinking. Like I said, I blacked out.

Some of the re-tracked songs I hadn't actually played since I wrote them (back in August or September 2024) so the sensation of re-learning them on guitar paired with the tactile feeling of smashing the drums (and using a new metal snare I had acquired) lent the performances to have more energy and excitement. I surprised myself on how enthusiastic the end results were compared to the demo versions. I had fun re-learning the parts too.

Two guitars and a bass.... in front of my kick drum

I mostly write using major barre chords (though I added a few different chords into the mix for this album), so it's easy to play the songs, but also, easy to remember how to play them. That's one reason I almost exclusively use major barre chords-- it stylistically helps my vocals sound more ambiguous (minor chords + my soft voice = a bit weak) and if I were to use complicated chords/riffs I may not be able to remember how to play the songs. Using the barre chords ensures I can play these songs for years to come without forgetting how to.

Example of the reference sheets I use to track drums

In terms of drums, I always use reference sheets I draw out myself using shapes for song parts (shaded rectangle = verse with vocals, triangle = chorus, circle = bridge, swirly design = post-chorus, etc). 

But anyway, to give an example of how my drum tracking goes... when I was re-tracking drums for "Tomorrow is a new day" I re-learned the song on drums over the course of maybe a half hour and within about another twenty minutes and had completed the recorded drum take. I used my system of reference sheets and my orange music stand to get it done.

I guess one key to the album was the pairing of my OCD distortion pedal with another guitar pedal I'm not sure I will reveal what it is... though it's not pictured above. But it adds that shoegaze sound you hear on the songs. I also used a DS-1 pedal and definitely figured out how to make it sound good, there's a specific setting you need to have it on. I also used an MXR multi-flanger and a electro-harmonix "Holy Grail" reverb pedal as well. I probably should've spent more time dialing in crazy guitar sounds and adding overdubs but I pretty much abide by the Steve Albini rule of evaluation where upon listening back, you ask yourself, "Are you instantly pleased by the sound you're hearing back?" If yes, then you're done. That's how I go about the recording process as a whole, really. 

I played a sonic blue Stratocaster that was custom built (lightweight) and a Mosrite gospel copy guitar on the album. Also my Spector bass (through the Radial DI) which is probably the most expensive instrument I own, believe it or not. Also I made sure everything had fresh batteries, including the pickups on my bass. I also made sure every guitar had new strings. I also spent one night doing a setup on my strat which involved carefully sanding down the nut and adjusting the intonation--something I tweaked over the course of about three days. One interesting note was I listened to the Russian Circles album "Blood Year" while setting up my guitar and I had a fun time that night.

When re-tracking I was really into playing the strat so I don't believe I re-tracked anything using the Mosrite copy, aside from some overdubs on "Seasonal" if I'm not mistaken. The sound of the Mosrite copy guitar can be heard on the song "Figure It Out" for sure, and its comparable to a Les Paul type of "chord-banging" sound, if you ask me. 

Don't get me wrong I play the Mosrite copy on half the album. It's more thick and chunky compared to the more spindly sounds of the strat. Put more simply, the strat has a different style of note articulation. For reference, the strat has Telnico V pickups and I recorded using all pickup configurations, occasionally using the rhythm pickup, as I found it gave me a pleasing sensation of fizzing soda (Mug root beer, anyone?) as I played it through the amp. 

For reference, again, my amp was absolutely cranked when recording, this time around. Not so cranked that it was at ear-bleeding levels, but way louder than it needed to be to be considered "loud" in the room I recorded in. Into a Shure PG56 mic that was 15 inches away, slightly off-center from the cone's center. Some guitar tracks were recorded through the same mic I used for vocals, which is a Nady SPC-15. At one point I'd actually move the mic from the guitar amp and reset it on the boom stand for vocals, but eventually I just plugged and unplugged the XLR cable to achieve this switch off and also swapped out the Nady (condenser) for the Shure (dynamic).

My Yamaha analog mixer, never touched it once dialed

I tried to be as disciplined as possible with the engineering this time around, in terms of keeping the mixer dialed, not tearing down gear, and tracking bass on every song. The only piece of "discipline" I left behind was the use of a pop filter. 

There's some philosophy to recording yourself, and not taking yourself too seriously is part of it. If I'm setting up the pop filter it seems like I might be "trying too hard," but my vocal takes are as casual and comfortable as possible, yet there are some "p" sound plosives I had to spend two mixing sessions fixing. This involved sorting through the mixes again and applying a 100db roll off EQ to every instance. There were 44 total instances. I wrote them all down in a notebook while evaluating the pops through my HiFI setup. I actually parsed through, listened back and evaluated all of the plosives against the time-coded notes twice-- once at night, and then again the next morning again after sleeping in.

When I was tracking I always used a foam covering for the microphone. I must add, I was aware of the p sounds while tracking after a while and did my best to avoid popping my ps into the mic as I sang on songs, for sure. So, I did my best with it, without ever busting out the pop filter. It wasn't too bad to sort through and fix... just a slight annoyance. I wanted to send the best possible mixes off for mastering so this was yet again a further step I took to ensure I was making the best album I could possibly make.

One key to the recording and mixing process is that I always kept the stereo drum bus at 0dB and mixed the bass, guitar and vocals from there, for every single song. Easy as pie.

Re-recording process

To re-iterate what I was talking about before, I had "finished" all the songs/demos, but then I kept recording. I only did that after I evaluated all of the songs while driving around late at night. Over the course of two days I knew I needed to re-record six songs off the album. Certain aspects of the original recordings were either flawed, or bothering me in the fact the snare sound wasn't as forceful as the steel snare.

As mentioned, I had recently acquired a steel snare drum that was adding a different sound to the songs, so it was used on all the re-recordings. In fact, it appears on eight of the twelve tracks. The four tracks it does not appear on provide a nice balance for the listener. I believe the steel snare (and how hard I was hitting it) could become a bit grating for the full album and possibly cause ear fatigue, so I'm happy some of the songs have my wooden snare on them, instead. It's certainly a warmer tonality.

One interesting part of the writing/recording process was how I wrote and recorded the final three songs on the album. I put all three songs to tape pretty easily, just off-the-cuff. I had the lyrics written out for two of the songs from months prior just waiting to be used over music. I spent a few weeks procrastinating on putting the words to music until one day I was finally ready.

Normally I work the other way (music first then words), but I'm comfortable doing either, really. Vocal melodies are somewhat independent of the actual written words (aside from engrained syllabic inflections), and many times you can sing certain words into a melody of choice. Though occasionally the lyrics won't actually work and will need to be rewritten if they were composed without music. In my experience, at least. I have written several notebooks full of lyrics that were actually unusable to reach this conclusion/hypothesis. It seems this time around I was inspired by words to create music that would be able to express the ideas the words conveyed. In previous music writing sessions I was much more focused on music first, so this was a nice change of pace, and probably the result of feeling more comfortable with my musical compositions forming as per my intentions. 

Where I sit and watch Star Trek on mute while listening back

I mixed those first two (of the final 3 tracks on the album) songs as best as possible right after writing/recording and then did not listen to them at all until all three were done. It was about a two-and-a-half-week period. This required discipline and the thinking is that once you listen back you're more apt to write something too similar to what you've just written (the melodies seep into your subconscious). I didn't listen back for that reason, to avoid repeating the song twice. When I finally did listen back it was a cool feeling because I didn't even remember the songs at all. 

I definitely felt I could have continued writing more shoegaze-type songs but then again, once I finished three (and rounded out an album of twelve songs) I quit while I was ahead. Similarly, I usually required a week off between writing songs for this album. At my best I believe I wrote about three songs (completely from nothing) in three weeks, which was definitely a speed record of mine.

There was something about this album's writing process that seemed like I was being guided along by what you might call a "Guardian Angel" or something. It's like every step of the way I knew what I needed to do and it was never a struggle to complete that task. 

In the past I've struggled to fill out an album, but this time around it's like it was pre-destined that this was going to happen, no matter what. It's hard to describe but it's like a hand was guiding me the entire time to complete the songs. Whenever I needed a specific instrumental or tool to aide in the recording/production process it was instantly at my fingertips. Whenever I thought about what to do next I felt at ease with the decision making process and just went for it. The recording process and writing process, especially towards the end of tracking was very seamless in that way. 

I must admit I practiced meditation for several months during the final stages of the writing process, though never focused on music during my meditations. I also took a lot of time off during the seven months wherein I didn't track any music or think about music whatsoever. At one point I was rendered unable to play guitar for a solid month due to an injury, and thankfully recovered. I watched the World Series during these times and researched saloon music. I stared at my keyboard and wanted badly to play it, but my body wouldn't allow for that. Eventually after a month off, I recovered.

Now what?

After completing my EP "Can't be Anyone but Myself" back in 2021 I continued to write and write and record more for a solid year afterwards, which ultimately led to the material getting worse and worse, in my opinion. All the best outtakes from that continued writing made my second EP "Mike's Garage" which is basically a bunch of B-sides. 

After I finished tracking for "Disposable" and filled out a thirty-minute album I was more cautious this time around to just stop. In fact, I might just stop entirely with singing over music. I may just pull a Billy Joel and claim, "I can't write songs anymore." Not because I can't technically, but because I'm pretty old and a 40 year old singing rock songs comes off a bit cheezy, doesn't it? Perhaps some more mellow, acoustic music is in the cards. I'm taking a considerable amount of time off, first, though. That's for sure. If you've followed along with me at all you'll know I've been changing my musical proclivities to Handel and Bach on synthesizers for the past few years and that's where I still aim to be, going forward. It's the most satisfying way for me to engage with music as of now.

With "Disposable" I finally indulged in something I've been avoiding for a decade which is writing what I call "chick songs." The meaning of that is up for you to decipher, but I definitely wrote a lot of them for this album. So it's probably best I step back for a while. The good news is I'm still juiced about playing vintage synthesizers and the music of composers like Bach, Handel and maybe even Rachmaninoff on those 80's synthesizers, and I will absolutely continue that project whole-heartedly. I'm also interested in saloon/ragtime music as well so my desire to improve as a keyboardist is still alive. And, if you think about it, if I wanted to play a concert I certainly have enough material to front a 3-piece. And no I'm not playing bass... I'm playing guitar and singing. Best believe that.

"Disposable" along with my EPs were all written with the idea of a 3-piece band, which is why I never go too crazy with overdubs or creating some sort of sonic collage that's impossible to recreate, although when I listen to a lot of studio albums (Smashing Pumpkins, anyone?) I hear a lot of overdubs and noises etc. added in, so I start to think aww sh*t, maybe I should've added more stuff in there for people to listen to. But strangely it seems I can listen back to these stripped down recordings and get something new from them each time, which is a good sign. It seems following the recording ethos of my most dissected album (as a fan) In Utero has reaped some sort of benefits. I've created something that to me sounds beautiful one day, and perhaps lackluster the next, and so on. At the least it's forced me to think, and hopefully the listener feels similarly. Moving along, back to some thoughts on the finished product.

My thoughts on the outcome

Overall I'm definitely happy I did so much re-recording on Disposable because it helped the album sound better and more polished. Plus, some of my writing process is to track while I write, so having the demos as reference for several months, then re-tracking them from memory provided final cuts with more energy and looseness. 

I literally could not sing "Day in the life" at first because it was too complicated (a lot of words), but when I re-tracked it I was able to just sing the song in one take because I had memorized it. The demo was sort of pieced together.

Similarly, some of my other demos sounded a little disjointed because I also wrote them as I tracked them. Some of the demos also contained literal flaws like playing the wrong notes on guitar. I lived with those flaws, as it was just a reference anyway, and became dangerously close to just "living with" those errors forever-- some of them almost made the final cut, until I told myself, no not this time and re-recorded everything that was flawed to the best of my ability. For example, the original versions of "I don't know" and "Ruin my life" while good, contained such flaws.

Big fan of the "partscaster" Stratocaster I used

Something I improved on for this recording process was the idea of focus. In the past I would've let issues from my personal life affect the result of the recordings, but not this time. But I can't tell you how to improve on this, other than with practice. I guess a good comparison is playing soccer. When you're on a soccer team and at practice at the field, you tend to "forget all the bullshit" and only focus on playing soccer. It's almost meditative in a sense. Same goes for skateboarding. 

At this point in time, same goes for me and music, but it wasn't always that way. Being a musician/artist requires "sensitivity" but sometimes you can start becoming paranoid and develop some sort of OCD level of sensitivity to where you can't perform unless you have some sort of perfect environment that becomes almost impossible to find in natural life. Writing and recording this album in isolation is a great pleasure and honor because it affords me the solace to operate at pretty much the highest level I possibly can. I tried my best to split the arrow of focus/discipline and artistic effort as best I could. You've gotta remember I'm also engineering myself here and evaluating everything myself. It's quite an undertaking to complete something like this without help from anyone whatsoever, completely by myself and in total silence from others. Not a single person was privy to my activities or heard any of the music as I recorded it, other than me. The first person to hear the album was of course the mastering engineer.

Philosophy behind self-recording

Taking yourself too seriously is an Achilles heel, so then how do you accomplish anything that projects balance, completion and professionalism in its presentation? Can you do this while also being "non-serious?" The answer to this hypothetical question requires going a further step beyond just having a quiet environment and it's something I've tried to conquer with my recording of "Disposable." After listening back to the album I'm left asking myself, "Could I have written even better music?" In my mind, the answer is yes, but in reality, the answer is just "maybe."

Music is more emotion-based than sports, so it's easy to let your creativity get stuffed up by outside influence. And if you've read this article you can tell I'm weary of naively forging ahead with unrealized delusions about my ability to pen more and more good songs as if it were just that easy. It might be, but I'm a little bit seasoned by now and sort of jaded when it comes to hitting a songwriting "hot streak" as it were. I'd rather stop and not press my luck. Once you've think you've got it figured out, you slowly realize you were wrong.

But in terms of letting outside influences affect or not affect me, over time I've become better at separating what I'm doing as a leisure activity (writing and recording music) from my personal life, to where I am no longer affected by what's happening outside of the music. 

If you were to be a fly on the wall I think it might shock you how I was able to write and record a lot of this stuff after dealing with specific situations outside of the music writing. Of course, music is somewhat like therapy and that element is critical to what I'm describing here. But in the past I would've let the outside influences hinder my progress and affect the final result, but this time around I was much more ruthless and very focused on completing the album, no matter what... The strange part is, I can't even tell you why. I didn't feel driven to finishing this album for any specific reason, other than just having fun, I guess? I can't even tell you why I recorded it other than I like music and wanted to create something I'd want to hear, I guess. I don't even know!! 

But as I was saying, when I was writing and recording I did it in a way where nothing else affected me, and I did not even consider that a possibility. Strange but true. I surprised myself when I listened back to some of it. Sort of wondering just how and why have I recorded this? I didn't think about anything, I just did it. There's something to be said for this type of meditative denial. Also bear in mind I wasn't supposed to be recording this album in the first place. I'm supposed to be playing Bach on my Korg DW-6000 synthesizer until I finish my 80's synth album. 

This wasn't supposed to happen, as I was in the process of self-denial in terms of recording songs. Until I started to see it come together and then I didn't stand in the way of the natural progression of events and how it all played out. In fact, quite the opposite as I've mentioned I felt someone else's hand was guiding me towards completion the whole time, with sort sort of mystical even magical timing. I always agreed with these messages from the universe (or whatever you want to call them) and let them help guide me towards completing this music.

What about the artwork?

The artwork process was completed on a time crunch. I essentially brainstormed an idea out on paper, and then tried to enact the idea as well as possible. It sort of just happened spontaneously. I took some spur of the moment photography outside after some heavy rainfall to use as a backdrop for the album front and back (as juxtaposition for flat images/text) as I knew it would be far more interesting than just putting a blank white or black backdrop (which I almost did, and thankfully didn't!). I chose some imagery (heart, skeleton, spiral) to accompany that and applied basic effects to those images as well (colorization, rotation, perspective shift). 

I used GNU image software to do the editing, and having gone through this process before I was fairly good at it in terms of knowing the right resolutions and sizes for how the art should look. In working with the CD duplication company (duplication.ca) I was kept on my toes in terms of formatting the artwork to have the proper bleed, and DPI, etc. (and was asked to make some revisions) and I liken it almost exactly to the process of editing music-- It is delicate because the spacing of elements (and colorization settings, etc) is all very specific and even the smallest change will impact the visual result. You can also make changes and then you may need to revert those changes so you have to become a very precise bookkeeper of your own files. 

I was luckily very thorough in keeping my artwork/photography files organized this time around and when called upon (by duplication.ca) I was able to make the appropriate changes to accommodate for the proper cut lines and bleed areas for the natural shifting that occurs during the printing process. At first go I was "off" by what might seem like a negligible amount of pixels, but this small error would have impacted the printing process. Simply put my artwork at first was not perfect, but when called upon I was able to reformat the images with the right care to fix these mistakes. 

For the artwork I was inspired by colors featured on the album cover for MGMT's "Congratulations" which is one of my favorite albums, randomly. I knew I had to get artwork done fast and I'm happy with the result. Very early on I knew I wanted my album artwork to feature certain colors (purples, pinks, silvers, maybe orange) and made sure to represent those colors in my final images. I messed around a bit with yellow and neon green but landed on the pink. The font was selected by flipping through about ten different fonts before I found one I liked. As with the music process, the artwork formatting is something I have practiced over and over and at this point in time I'm more comfortable using GIMP to format album art properly and create something that should come off as somewhat professional and interesting looking. To be fair, I do believe handing off the album art to a professional artist is ideal, but I was already over budget by the time I needed the artwork done, so I handled it all myself.

So there you have it. Recording, mixing, engineering, editing, full graphics work for album art, interfacing/dialogue with mastering engineers and CD printing artists, the whole nine yards, to bring you this album. Thanks for reading and until next time. - Mike.

When songwriting goes right

Call me a hypocrite. If I stumble across a YouTube video where some no-name musician tries to speak about songwriting, I'm definitely out.

If it's someone I know and respect, though... I'll watch. Elliot Smith's songwriting lesson is one of my faves.

So, while I fall into the category of no-name musician myself, I still like to blog about songwriting. I've spent over ten years doing it, on and off. And when I'm "on," I definitely dedicate everything to it. As I quickly approach 34 years old, I'm ready to hang up the pencil and paper for a while. I think I've achieved as best as I can possibly do, by myself, as a songwriter.

Recently I wrote about four songs in four days. The routine was similar: 

Typically I'd wake up and drive to work, where an idea might strike me at some point during my daily mental monologue. I'd write a small note to myself to remember for later. In one instance I wrote the lyrics to a song while on my 30-minute break at work. I clocked out, walked out to my car, in 10 degree Fahrenheit weather, fired it up, and basked in the warmth of the sun as it came down through my car's windshield.

Usually I drink a Powerade and have Chewy chocolate granola bars. I can have anywhere up to about four in a row. I keep loose-leaf in my car, and right there on the spot I wrote out lyrics to a song, with a general idea for a melody in mind, but nothing concrete. 

The more you write lyrics you get a feel for how certain phrases are going to contrast one another, and how the words will flow together. Reading fine lit certainly would help an ability to write lyrics, though I don't read too much of it. Every so often I'll page through something, but not recently. Some stuff I've been reading recently includes: a book on Linear Algebra, Barrons, a small novel called Rockabilly, and Robert Frost collected works.

It seems like cliche advice, but the more you practice songwriting, the better you get. And I've been working nearly everyday for about two years. But, I haven't seen consistent improvement. 

I believe the results show up en masse, and usually when you've about had it and are ready to just throw your hands up and quit. 

In my case, after putting in work for years on end, I knew I wanted to continue but wasn't sure I had anything original to offer. After all, my last two collections of songs were stylistic imitation. 

I spent about a month working on material and concocted a song much like a mad scientist might. When I played it back at first I thought, "This is interesting..." and that's when I knew I had something to work with. Just one successful song gave me the confidence to say, "I got this." I wrote a total of seven in about a two months and knew I had enough to work with for a full album.

The more music I listen to, and different bands I can gather inspiration from fuel my own songwriting process. It's also like a meditation exercise. You have to be able to control your emotions and measure yourself to the process. I agree with Elliot Smith's songwriting advice that you can't cloud up your imagination, you just have to let yourself express ideas clearly and not block up that ability to express your ideas. If you go into a songwriting session with a negative feeling about your ability to make it happen, you won't get anywhere. 

This time around, I kept a Word document to try to keep track of my inspirations. It was probably around 20 different bands/artists, and maybe 6-8 different albums I had in rotation.

Obviously with practice, the ability to articulate ideas becomes more and more refined. It requires an ability to manage a lot of variables and a lot of components, both mentally and physically, at the same time, to get the songwriting expression working properly and at it's full potential. It's not easy and it does require hard work and discipline, which can be counterintuitive to the act of free-styling as a musician. You can't plan spontaneity, but in order to get anything done, you need to have discipline and observe a routine of sorts.

Personally I like to freestyle or "jam" but only in small doses. Jamming too much doesn't automatically lend itself to compositional acumen, but that's just my opinion. Hendrix was supposedly into jamming all the time, especially in the latter portions of his career.

In addition to the different music I listen to, some of my motivation is visual. One visualization I've used is a vision of Mike Tyson hitting the heavy bag. You just gotta keep hitting that bag, over and over again. Every day. There's no giving up. At some point it turns into an addiction. I gotta hit the bag, because it makes me feel good. But I also respect the discipline and if it's time to stop, it's time to stop. Hitting the bag has made me who I am, but it doesn't define me as a person. It's a tool to remind yourself to live up to your full potential as a person, and in this instance, a songwriter.

Six or seven hours later after the lunch break, I'd drive home and have a comfortable (but not overwhelming) level of self-confidence to sit down, come up with a guitar part, and create the melody over the top, using the lyrics. It just happens. I can't explain how, or why, but when you know you're "on," you know. There's no doubt.

While driving home I know I'm going to write the song when I arrive home. There's no question. There's no, "Oh please let it happen, please let it happen." I just know. It's going to happen. I'm not too anxious about it. I don't doubt myself. I'm not excited about it. I just know I'm going to do it and it's going to work. There's no other option. I'm content in this feeling. It's not a belief, because it goes beyond belief, It's the truth.

Afterwards, once the music is on tape...

When I know I'm successful and I've written the melodies and the parts, there's no big wave of relief. Everything went as planned. Business as usual. The fun part comes next when I get to actually record a finished version of the draft. I draft out all the parts separately, and then usually go from there and mark down the form, then drums, then guitars, lyrics/vocals, and finally bass.

I guess the true test of success is whether or not you, yourself are satisfied with the results. In this recent songwriting spree, I'm definitely pleased with the results, but I could see how someone else might hear the songs differently and not be that into it, because the music is a little different than what you might normally hear. 

I also realize I'm limited in what I can do. I can't record a big-budget sounding track, or something that's impossibly clean and slick, which isn't my intention, either. I have to work within my limits and that's where I can find a happy medium.

Keeping a balanced relationship to the songwriting process is key. One day you're "on," but the next day you might be "off" and what seemed so easy now seems impossible. It happens that fast.

- Mike

Music recording addiction

This is a topic you won't find much information about online. Most articles about music recording are written from the perspective of encouragement to budding artists. Or advice on technical approaches. There's a whole industry built on selling new products to prospective audio engineers.

But what about the dark side of being a musician? What happened to the excesses of rock and roll?

Music recording addiction is usually just brushed under the rug as "part of the gig." It's also something that transcends any specific genre. It applies to any artist, whether a hip hop artist, or a classical musician. 

It can happen to anyone, and there needs to be some sort of recognition that you have a problem. When does recording music go beyond a hobby and turn into an unhealthy obsession? I've had to ask myself this question more than once over the years.

I think the part where it gets tricky is in terms of how much time you're spending out the day doing it. Personally, I have maintained a 40-hour a week job whilst also recording music, but not everyone has this privilege and mandatory buffer to their at-home habits. Even with time away from microphones each day, music-recording addiction can still rear it's head.

If I spend every last second of my free-time recording music, that's where I realize I have a problem. What about the other aspects of life? Going out to the shopping mall, taking a walk in the park, reading, interacting with the community, watching a movie, taking the moment to just relax for a while? 

If you're recording music (or doing any one specific task) all the time, you leave yourself no time to engage with life more fully. To me, that's where a hobby transforms into an addiction and a problem.

It's easy to hear a song on an album or the radio. Take, "Here Comes The Sun" by George Harrison for instance. Any musician might hear the song and say, "Wow, that's pretty good... but I bet if I spend enough time I can not only write, I can record something equally as cool, all by myself." Seems innocent enough. Except it doesn't just end with "Here Comes The Sun," ...it goes on and on, endlessly.

The same way the film industry glorifies certain behaviors, the record industry glorifies recorded output. The recorded song and the album are put on a pedestal above all else. They are trophies to be won by musicians, as symbols of their artistry and dedication to their craft above all else.

Not only is there more to life, there's more to music.

Yet the streaming services want more, all the time. So what if you've put out one album? Another, more critically acclaimed artist has put out five albums. When is it enough? If you ask the industry the answer is simply, "Never."

One of the most impactful musicians I've met was a guitarist who I saw perform one night years ago. I was blown away by his ability on guitar and as a vocalist.

Afterwards I struck up a conversation with this guy, and would see him around pretty often. He gave me a couple of impromptu guitar lessons and other advice relating to being a guitarist and musician. His advice wasn't limited to music theory, but he gave insight into how to conduct yourself as a guitar player and how to maintain a healthy relationship to music. And all this advice from a complete stranger, who happened to be a brilliant musician. Who would've thought?

Obviously, when I saw him perform that night I thought, "Wow, if only this was on a album for everyone to hear. It would be incredible." 

A week or so later, I asked him if he felt a need to record his music. He said, "Me? I'm good." This definitely had an impact on me. To this guy, music alone was enough.

When I saw him on the corner now and again I'd ask, "What's going on?" He was always transcribing music onto the guitar to improve his ability. One day he told me, "I'm working on Rhapsody in Blue," and showed me the melody parts on a Squier guitar he used to carry around with him.

Anyhow, the seismic shift towards affordable, consumer-grade recording equipment has changed the average musician's relationship to recordings in general. The practice of music recording has always been instant-gratification, I guess. You hit record, and listen to the playback. It gives you a high. "Wow, so that's what I sound like..."

Still, it's never been so easy to record near-studio-grade material at your own home, at the click of a button. But as the saying goes, with great power, comes great responsibility.

I can only speak for myself, but if you or someone you know is out there and can't stop recording themselves or recording music, it may be time to ask some questions. What else does life have to offer? As a final note, it's pretty interesting to realize that many musical heroes have a relatively small output of recorded material. Once something is on wax, that might be enough to last many years to come. It may even last a lifetime. - Mike

Become Mac Demarco in 5 Easy Steps

1. The Look - 

signature tooth gap, the plastic wristwatch, the late 80's Dad hat, buttoned up shirt, cuffed Levis. The goofy smiling, long tangled hair. Everything about the look is critical as an identifying factor. It's all constantly showcased in photos and video. 

You can almost dress someone in this clothing for Halloween as "Mac Demarco."  Similar approach for many other artists/musicians... i.e. Hendrix, Prince, John Lennon, Kurt Cobain, Bono, Slash, the list goes on...

2. The Songs, output and signature style - 

Put out several releases in succession, all of similar quality, although the first release is a little rough around the edges. You can easily identify the sound as "sounds like Mac Demarco." His sound palette is consistent and includes: vibrato guitars, detuned synth, simplistic songs, laid back drums, mostly bass register vocals. 

The trend since about 2010 seems to be the more releases you can string together in quick succession that all meet a quality standard, the more the Internet hype-beast crowds (and streaming platforms themselves) tend to award you with hype and credibility. 

3. The Story - 

The story about his absentee father, however real, falls into the "sob story" category we see all too often in the music biz come up game. The most often touted is the "I was dead broke, just trying to make it" type of story.

Along with the typical rags to riches overnight success type of narrative, he also seems to bolster his initial cult status, i.e. "underground hero" categorization with several myths that are most likely based on factual events. The most common include the myth of him sticking some of his phalanges into his anus whilst hanging from the ceiling at one of his shows, getting arrested at his own show, and being hammered drunk at many shows.

4. The Presentation -  

If you want to look the part, you have to be the part. His Bandcamp page is full of not only the official releases, but all the demos, links to a seemingly never-ending set of music pages, his own wide array of merchandise (including ltd. edition figurines, and $60 plastic watches), his own webpage, a private fanclub, and a never-ending list of gigs and special presentations booked by a boutique label, each with a custom flyer. You find an overabundance of media, including countless music videos and interviews about his music and lifestyle. Anything you'd want to know is there in a variety of formats.

5. The Hype - 

If you do a Google search you'll find hundreds of articles written in local to national-level media outlets. The classic photo-shoot and interview, sit-down interviews, collaborations with other artists, message-board threads, everything. 

This is most likely 75% a by-product of everything, but I'm sure his PR team has a huge part in feeding the machine and keeping him extremely busy engaging with all the media outlets, his fans, and playing all the shows whilst also on a deadline to produce more music. It's a full-blown machine.

 

One last detail: The fact his music can be played at parties and social gatherings without anyone batting an eye certainly helps his "playlist" potential. The "chill vibe" helped him parlay his exposure in Pitchfork and other music review websites into a legitimate fanbase as well as a large portion of casual listeners and fans. If the music wasn't fun to listen to, he wouldn't be as big as he is.

My happy place and giving up on being a YouTuber

Recently I've discovered a new happy place. What I mean by "happy place" is basically some sort of ritual that I do either every day, or nearly every day, or even just now and then that I derive great pleasure from.

In the past I'd come home after a long day and watch any variety of shows... Seinfeld while drinking Arizona RX tall boys (and a Linden's chocolate chip cookie) from the deli across the street from my old apartment... Watching "How I Met You Mother" while decompressing after a long and stressful day at work (I actually despise that show, yet kept watching anyway until I finished the series)... I used to watch Sabrina the Teenage Witch reruns from like 3 until 4 AM before I would work on a computer application and then go skateboarding at a local park.... What else? Fran Drescher and The Nanny every night for at least an hour... but now? I'm onto bigger and better things.

Lately I've been returning home, wherein I will fire up Microsoft's Solitaire Collection a.k.a. Klondike for some reason... and watch reruns of Fear Factor, which airs on the TBD channel for at least two hours every night. Editor's Note: I've beaten Klondike on the Expert difficulty. Struggling to beat it on Grand Master as of now.

As for Fear Factor, I just enjoy the fact it's structured and I don't know the results of any of the challenges, since I've retained zero information from watching it when it initially aired. Come to think of it, the same logic applied to The Nanny. I watched re-runs of that and didn't remember a single story-line or plot from when I used to watch reruns of it literally everyday after school, somewhere around 2003 I'd imagine.

There are other happy places from the past, which usually involve at least two components. I used to go to a specific Chinese restaurant in Manhattan (Tang's Garden), but only when it was raining, and every time I'd bring a specific book with me (Petronius' Satyrica) to read. Other rituals include visiting a Dunkin Donuts Drive-Thru every time I logged a 12-hour shift at the postal plant, usually close to midnight, I could go on and on...

In other news, I also have started to ONLY drink decaf coffee... and the occasional cup of Matcha Tea (which according to the box, has about 30% the caffeine of one cup of coffee, which is plenty for me), prepared following along with the YouTuber Kashi Star. I think my long hiatus from coffee may have had a larger effect on me. I've noticed that drinking a full cup of coffee makes me feel wiped out, fatigued, and basically sick afterwards. It's like I developed a quasi-allergic reaction to coffee as a result of abstaining from it for so long. I guess my body had built up a tolerance, and when the tolerance was completely wiped away, my body's reaction changed into basically rejecting it. I am enjoying the Matcha tea, though, for sure.

To conclude this update... I've officially accepted defeat. I will never become a famous YouTuber. I'm officially shutting down my Mind of Mike channel as of now.  I can't keep up with how intense it really is to become a YouTuber. Not to mention, anything you can think of or imagine... someone else has already posted a YouTube video about it... so you start to ask yourself... "What am I doing this for? What's the point?"

To become a bonafide YouTuber... Not only do you have to put yourself out there completely, editing video is excruciating for someone like me who has pretty much the most basic skills you could have with it. Not to mention, churning out videos while maintaining any normal occupation is pretty much impossible. If you're going to be a famous YouTuber, you can't really have any other distractions whatsoever. At least that's my take.

I've happily demoted myself to the world of blogging and music.

Call me insane, this is my Rock fantasy

If you've kept up reading my previous posts, you'll know I've been working on a rock album for the past seven months. It's what keeps me going. I recently reached out to three different people and asked them if I should keep recording more songs for the album, or stop at the number I'm currently at, which is more of an E.P. length. All three of them wrote back, "Keep going!!"

I tend to just quit stuff before I should in other areas (jobs, as one example), so I owe it to myself to complete an album-lengths of material, even if it takes a full two years of dedication. After all, writing music is not only a joy, but a privilege.

I plan to use Halloween 2021 as a checkpoint. Because I've kept such substantial documentation of what I'm doing, I can visually see I've completed around 40 different songs, and usually the "keepers" are written/recorded consecutively in the same month. So, for me it's somewhat of a momentum game. Now, onto my Rock dreams.

Mike Tyson vs. Roy Jones Jr. boxing exhibition match

We all saw the Mike Tyson vs. Roy Jones Jr. boxing match, presented by Triller recently. The under-card was Jake Paul vs. Nate Robinson. During the event, there were several musical performances, for instance, Wiz Khalifa performed.

Wiz Khalifa performs at the Triller event

My dream, and bear with me here, at this point, is to perform as part of an event like this. It's not much different than my long-time dream of performing on late night television. In fact it's nearly identical.

This fantasy is delusion, but it's also the reality of my day-to-day imagination. Every day when I'm at work, I'm able to get through the day by thinking, "What if?"

I'm pretty sure all the performers at the Tyson vs. Roy Jones event were hip hop artists. So why do I think I could even hang, as a Rock performer? I just know I can, based on the material I have stacked and my previous experience performing live in front of audiences and cameras. I have the experience, so I know what pitfalls to avoid.

My vision is based off of a visual like this:

Nirvana performs "Smells Like Teen Spirit" on SNL

Now, I've already admitted this is a delusional thought, but is this fantasy a complete impossibility? I'm going to go out on a limb and say no, but I'll humor myself and lay out why this is at the very least completely impractical and improbable.

1. I work 40 hours a week and don't even have a band. Not only that, I don't even know any other musicians (drummers, bass players). How can I garner any sort of momentum or, as a friend put it, a "foothold" anywhere? The reality is I sit by myself and write/record my material. There is no activity beyond this.

2. I haven't performed live anywhere in public since 2016. 

3. I'm not signed to a major label contract, I have no handlers, I own all my own material. 

4. I have no fans. No one's ever heard of me. I have no name-recognition. 

5. I'm getting older at 33 years old and started going bald at 26. I'm approaching "old guy" territory as it relates to fans of Rock music who are typically younger.

6. I don't have much interest in being a professional musician, because of the economics of it. I'm already aware you can't make any money doing it unless you have a guaranteed contract that basically sets you up for retirement.

I guess the trick to accomplishing your dreams is to look through a list like I've just laid out, and to remedy each issue completely. Just for kicks, I'll tackle one of them. Let's go with #4. In order to remedy "I have no fans, no one's ever heard of me, no name recognition" I think the best medicine is a music video.

Music videos can garner attention because the visual medium gives fans something tangible to connect your music to. If your video catches on in any way, you may find yourself with some name recognition, and that would potentially solve issue #4. 

Now, an issue like #1 is nearly impossible for me to solve. That being said, there are always creative solutions to problems. Not every solution needs to be the most conventional approach.

All in all, I think this fantasy is possible. The reason why is because it is extremely specific. At the end of the day it's just a song's length of camera footage where I'm the temporary rock-star. - Mike

Spending all my free time on songwriting, I hate my own hobby?

Since June, I've been spending all my free time on songwriting and music recording. Every last drop of it. When I had a day off and on my off-hours after work I played and recorded music, that's it. Nothing else. I work 40 hours a week (thankfully not the 60 I used to work).

My routine was: wake up, go to work, come home. As soon as I got home I'd practice drums for a minimum of 15 minutes, but usually if I was working on a song I'd play for longer, maybe an hour. I'd get a sweat going, then once I felt comfortable with a drum take, I'd know it and say to myself, "That one felt pretty good." Usually it was just a matter of not flubbing any notes and making sure the tempo was correct. The drum mics were constantly set up so to record all I had to do was open up my DAW and press record. As a side note I live in a tiny room so... My bed was actually on the floor with wires tangled all around it and drum mics wavering overhead and the drums setup mere inches away from the mattress, for the entire 6 months.

Once the drum take was done, then I'd plug in my guitar (into a keyboard amp) and start messing around with an idea of some chords, or a melody. I have a nice pair of studio headphones I used for overdubs. For June and July I wrote using an acoustic bass through a fuzz pedal (with some reverb). I probably recorded about 10 songs this way before I found a certain formula using an actual electric guitar that worked for me.

It's now the end of November. I started this routine around June 1st. In this span of time, I've recorded 27 completed B-sides (That's a finished song with bass, guitar, drums, and vocals) and 5 finished songs I will release. So that's 32 songs in 6 months. I think if I really wanted, I could probably put out 10 songs (instead of only 5), but I'll save those 5 extra B-sides for a rainy day.

I gotta admit, I'm pretty much annoyed with recording and have been for a while. The final product is always awesome... when you record something that you're satisfied with, but the nuts and bolts of setting up the equipment, and the fact it's sort of like an endless pursuit (because at what point does it end?) have soured my take on it (and I've felt that way since about 2015). Many times it's a giant waste of time. As much as I love playing drums and guitar I'm ready to ditch recording for a while, maybe play some golf, go fishing, take up painting again. Just something different. I wouldn't mind performing live again, if only I could find a suitable drummer.

Ideally, I'd like to have a nice separate room to play drums in, and play guitar in, but I think the concept of having a recording interface always setup is too addictive for me, in a bad way. Years ago, I sold all of my recording and music equipment (except for one guitar), which was probably for the best, since the acoustic songwriting stuff I was recording was pretty cringy (looking back). But I'm happy with the songs I'm about to put out, at the same time.

 I'll be sharing the 5 songs shortly, after I finish up the mixing and cover-art. Stay tuned. - Mike

How I recorded a full album's worth of drums in two days

Recently I recorded a full album of drums. I guess these days the "album" is somewhat of a lost art.

Personally, I've always found a full album somewhat elusive. As a music writer I'm well-aware of what tends to occur during music-writing progress, particularly what happens when you aim high, and for a "full album."

An example of the charts I write out and then reference when recording drums for a song

Usually, when you continually fixate on creating a body of work such as an album, you start to lose focus on what's in front of you. My point is, you can only write one song at a time. Anyone's mind can work quite fast, and ideas may emerge at a rapid pace. You've got to adhere to a specific rule: one at a time. Everyone puts their pants on one leg at a time.

How I deal with any influx of creativity is often a "make or break" moment of music creation. This extends from a mental exercise to actual on-the-spot decision making, and years of habit-forming practice. I've found with music and with painting, you have to be ready in the moment with what decisions to make, because these decisions can impact the life-span of the work. For instance, tuning your drums, or replacing your guitar strings, or being careful when touching the dials on a mixing board, and the settings on a recording device (or not touching them) will impact the results of any recording. In the same way, making sure you have enough paint to finish that painting is just as important as those artful flicks of the wrist that cascade a waterfall of enamel across your masterpiece.

With a multitude of great ideas at your disposal, you may be tempted to spread them thinly over a set of songs, rather than select only the best parts for a singular creation. With this album of drums I went for a different approach.

Once again, I'm left with the clumsiness of a music-theory based description, but I'd like to bypass this (in my opinion) egoistic formalism. Instead, how about a simpler take. The man, in the woods, who hits a stick on a downed tree stump. With a little bit of rhythm (and some imagination) we're basically listening to ACDC's "Back in Black," if we want to be, or perhaps a whimsical Hendrix tune. All it takes is the tree branch.

To record the full album of drums what I did was to create charts based off of songs I like myself. I broke down each song by counting 8-beat measures. I literally counted out loud "1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8." Once I hit 8, I would write a number down and circle it. With each new circled number I was marking down song parts, i.e. Verse, chorus, bridge, and so on.

From there I was able to figure out how the songs were structured, and it didn't feel like a chore because I was listening to stuff I actually like a lot. Typically, a 4/4 song would have four consecutive 8-beat measures to round out half of a verse or chorus. 

I went one-at-a-time. I created a chart, then brought it over to the drum set. From there, I studied the piece of paper (on the floor by my hi-hat pedal) while I performed a totally indiscernable-from-the-source-material type of different drum pattern all-together (other than the format guidelines I provided for myself), and voila! I was left with a full set of drum tracks for an album. Wasn't so tough really.

From there, I brought my guitar over and basically just went off-the-cuff. At the end of the day I tracked bass (and scratch guitar) for all 10 songs. After a day, I decided two of my cuts were weak, and shortened the length to 8. Another day passed and I was content with 4 out of the 8. And yet another day, and I was down two 3 out of the original 10. At this point in time I'm now at two tracks that I will likely attempt vocals on. When it came to the guitar, the best results were just totally free-styled (after I made sure I was in-tune). The best part is when you start to realize in the moment you're crushing the take (out of nowhere, because, you're hearing the music for the first time yourself). It's at this moment you have to make sure to exercise a bit of caution, but also flash a bit of a switch-blade of risk as well. If you make it to the end of the tape even after this, you're onto something. - Mike