Part 2
Many writers have claimed that as soon as they enter into the process, certain aspects of the narrative are out of their hands. Do you like to keep strict control over the process or is there a sense of following things where they lead you?
Some of my best work happened from unintentional channelling. It’s hilariously irritating if that arresting inspiration comes when I’m doing dishes, which, as of late, seems to be what happens the most. I have to dry my hands quickly, use my mobile as a dictaphone, and hope I retained what I just came up with. Then return to the next dish, and then the middle-8 comes to me, and the cycle continues, making cleaning up the kitchen take three times longer!
Often, while writing, new ideas and alternative roads will open themselves up, pulling and pushing the creator in a different direction. Does this happen to you, too, and how do you deal with it? What do you do with these ideas?
Sometimes I’ll feel like I’m in different modes, say if my writing is collaborative, for a specific project, or for my solo work, and the push and pull of collaborating can sometimes challenge the mental stakes you have in place that allows you to outline and function in that version of your writing. When that happens, you sometimes have to step back and re-evaluate whether something is actually right for its intended use, or if it might be better suited for something else.
Other times, especially if it’s for myself, I’ll have to back away and realise that maybe something I’m coming up with is pretty good, but doesn’t fit in the current project. Like I said, “Fiberglass” was one of those, and annoyingly, you can build kind of a big back catalogue of “maybe somedays” that way.
So there are definitely times I’ve come up with that “missing verse all those years” to finally slot in that “really great chorus”, and that’s pretty satisfying. Somewhat like finding that missing jigsaw piece you thought they forgot to include in the box, but was under the sofa all along.
There are many descriptions of the creative state. How would you describe it for you personally? Is there an element of spirituality to what you do?
Writing, especially in conjunction to connecting vocally, can feel pretty out-of-body when you finally enter a state of flow. I’m not particularly religious, though I did grow up Catholic, and the moody harmonic structures have stayed with me. And stained glass is rather beautiful. But I think, especially for music, I’m much more engaged with allowing a certain amount of mystery without the need of exact vocabulary for how I feel when in a creative state. To me, being in flow, that’s the most connected to another world that I have ever been.
Especially in the digital age, the writing and production process tends towards the infinite. What marks the end of the process? How do you finish a work?
Not the most exciting answer, but when the work tells me it’s done, it’s done. I try my best to keep a certain amount of analogue, physical writing in what I do. Often when I work digitally, I can feel a bit disconnected to the end result.
Once a piece is finished, how important is it for you to let it lie and evaluate it later on? How much improvement and refinement do you personally allow until you're satisfied with a piece? What does this process look like in practise?
I tend to evaluate the song’s “worthiness” less, and judge myself more for whether or not, as its de facto parent, if I gave the song its best outing, production and performance-wise. There are a few pieces in my catalogue I feel like I let the song down because, even though the song said it was ready, maybe my ability to best execute it wasn’t there yet. Or there were environmental or business things that hampered my ability to do a better job at the time of recording it. There are also a few songs where I just have to cop to the fact that they do better, feel-wise, live, like “Self-Portrait”, and that actually allows me to forgive myself a bit more here because I can let the piece exist outside its bad hair day.
What's your take on the role and importance of production, including mixing and mastering for you personally? How involved do you get in this?
Production is crucial to me, I’m always present in the sessions, and I always approve the final mixes and masters for my solo work. It's essential for me to be actively involved because the wrong presentation can harm a song—which since this is work being billed under my name, and I write all the songs, not knowing what was going on would be pretty bad! I definitely do bring in several very specific production ideas when I’m laying out a song. I still do a lot of field recording, and several bits of that made it into the new record.
As I said before, I make lots of demos when I can, either on my own with my own gear, or with Gabriel. Collaborating with folks like Gabriel, who share both an artistic vision and understanding, is vital. Another case in point: Todd Rittmann, as the album’s producer, was perfect because he both embraces and challenges my ideas, offers fantastic suggestions, and allows things to blend naturally. I owe a lot to Todd’s grounding, skill, and aura.
While I used to handle a significant portion of computer work in the beginning of my career, right now I don't actively seek out being thought of for engineering. Not that I’m helpless there, but in my mind, my role as “producer” is currently best served in the old school sense of a designer, collaborator, and arranger. This allows me to stay conceptual and hear when adjustments are needed, like things I might miss if I were in the weeds of engineering all the time, and have more mental space free to improvise things like new harmonies and such during a session. And afterwards, I frequently reflect on bounces, make detailed notes about possible changes, et cetera.
In formal studio sessions, I'll still hit a spacebar here and there for an extra tracking hand, and like I said before, I definitely bring in very specific ideas, but I need to work with someone more deft at the ins and outs of the latest update to see if certain things are possible. And while maybe I'd like to return to being literally more hands-on in the future—like, feel the computer as an extension of myself rather than get annoyed at a new update or a broken plugin—for now, for me, for things like this last record—working with someone like Todd, who can seamlessly switch between a great musician, engineer, and a fellow world-builder, is the best approach.
After finishing a piece or album and releasing something into the world, there can be a sense of emptiness. Can you relate to this – and how do you return to the state of creativity after experiencing it?
There is certainly a level of, forgive the Peggy Lee here, but “is that all there is?” I think anyone can relate to putting a lot of energy into something and feeling a sense of postpartum. I don’t really have much time to dwell on those blues though, as I have to almost immediately turn to promotion, so you’re suddenly in charge with helping the album live its best life, and so I kind of end up keeping one foot in the album’s universe, all while on the side, thinking about my next creative moves.
Creativity can reach many different corners of our lives. Do you personally feel as though writing a piece of music is inherently different from something like making a great cup of coffee? What do you express through music that you couldn't or wouldn't in more 'mundane' tasks?
The mundane is, funny enough, pretty inspirational to me. Realising how profound the day to day can actually be, the fact that we’re alive on this rock at all, is pretty startling. With music, I can both craft an elevated version of feelings and concepts that can’t be expressed just through speech, and by sharing my voice, I can pay it forward to the gratitude I have for this life.
