My dear Mum.

She died on 12 July 2020.

Alzheimers disease is no joke. The photo above, and the one below, are only a few years apart.

For all the time I’ve been working on the music you find on this website, Mum had been reaching her terminal days. Latterly, when I wasn’t making music I was often spending time with Mum, like this.

Precious time indeed.

And so to this week’s music.

I intended this to be a salute.

The 5 solitary bass notes take the form of foghorn blasts, like ships in the sea – one for each member of the family.

As you’ll have seen from the site, Mum, Dad, me and the rest of my family spend a lot of time (although not enough) around the sea and in particular on the Scottish Island of Tiree. The sound of the claxon resonates every time I catch the ferry over to the magic Island.

The track is 71 seconds – one second for each year of Mum’s life.

The track cuts short before it reaches its natural end.

Tiree, Scotland.

A little bit longer. This week I will let my brother do the talking, since we made this track together (and in particular, he’s responsible for the tension-inducing chords in the run up to the breakdown):

The whole tune – and in particular the interaction between the main synth line and the descant line – seems to speak to the way life’s challenges require us to hold on just a little bit longer that we think they will…

Just when we think things are easing up, something else – some new depth of challenge – comes along… but the resources, and hard wired drive to hold on are always there to meet it.

We both hope you enjoy this one as much as we do.

Toby and Barny.

The Gower Peninsula, 2004

Synthwave – not my favourite genre of electronic music but I enjoy it now and then.

I do, actually, like some of the early aspects of the synth sounds in synthwave, and I especially love working with early synths. Synthwave itself is probably a tad too poppy for my production tastes.

So: when I was given the opportunity to remix this piece, I took out some of the guitar parts and replaced them with the sounds of purer synths. I would say that much of the essence of this track remains with Michael, so in this respect it’s a faithful remix that doesn’t deviate too much from the original. But I do hope something of my own flavour – which if you’ve been following along all these weeks you my know something about! – does shine through.

And in any case, it’s often a good thing to work with different styles of music, if for no other reason than that it tells you about what you really do adore.

You can here more of Michael’s work over on Bandcamp. He’s based in Glasgow, UK. Here’s his original version of Control:

Derbyshire, 2012

I ended up feeling ok about this one, but it was a mighty painful process to get there. I feel that I learnt few lessons from pushing through and completing this one, and I’ve made a blog post about how I pushed past the pain and reached the other side.

Week 31 was quite a journey, and a good deal of it was painful, so I wanted to write about it a little. It’s all part of the challenge! 

The track started with a simple idea, loosely informed by something I’d heard recently. I put the main parts together very quickly, and in the early phases things felt good – the basic sound was ok, and there was a decent feeling in the groove. 

Somehow I then complicated things, adding too many string parts and other synths. One of the synth lines in particular sounded great, but also quite trance-like – a bursting, bright open saw. So then the drums weren’t keeping up with the energy on that line, so I started switching the drums about a bit – compenstating for the new element I had introduced. 

And then the bassline was too laid back also, so I began trying for a totally new one. At this point, I experienced some dispondancy – nothing was fitting together, the track had lost direction, and its earlier coherence had vanished. 

Also there was a new track (by Marcus Santoro) that I was loving. Here’s the track:

In a most unskillful way, I compared the two tracks, referencing one against the other. The Santoro track was a lot brighter, so I started making mine more bright. But the crazy thing is that I had already balanced everything against a different reference track – one much more suited to what I was originally aiming for. 

Nuts!

I had to step away from the track for a bit. 

When I came back I decided to return to what I’d intended to do in the first place.  After that it became slightly more pleasant to complete. It was still painful though.

So here are the lessons I observe here, learnt through an unpleasant experience: 

Form a strong vision for the direction of the music at the outset. 

Don’t then deviate from this as it will only cause pain and make the music sound worse. The best tracks are coherent, with a simple message. Two messages is too many. 

Find an appropriate reference track, let this be your guide.

I found a great reference track that I used to check the overall tone of this track.

Becoming exciting by another track, then referencing against that was a really dumb idea. Choose one that sounds fantastic, and let it guide you in the choices you make. It’s not about copying the exact track – the one I used for this track is different from mine – very. But it has a similar frequency layout and tone.

The lesson I learnt here was that reference tracks are not just useful in mixing – they can help guide the direction. If Undercatt’s track didn’t have a bright open saw line, why on earth was I putting one in mine?

Don’t leave too many spare parts lying around. 

I had tried a few different synth lines, and I thought they might have worked at one point, so I kept them in on mute. This made the arrangement look bad, and provoked a loss of clarity in my design. 

Do not move on. 

I found designing the pads (strings) difficult in this track. I made some that were ok’ish, but I knew they weren’t quite right. I decided to come back and fix them later – perhaps one other parts were added they would make more sense. 

I see this as a bad idea. Pads are important to me, and I care about the atmosphere of the music I write. Knowing that these were only half baked made me lose faith in the track overall. I should have stuck with pad design until I had created some sounds which were punching their weight instead of dragging down the production process. 

Don’t give up.

I’ll quote, if I may, in full from an excellent book on music production by Dennis DeSantis. He says: 

Problem:

The closer you get to finishing the track, the more you realize that it’s a failure. It will be impossible to turn this into something you’ll be proud of. Why bother finishing it at all? Wouldn’t it make more sense to just abandon it and start over on a completely different project? 

It’s depressing to realize that you’ve made something bad. It’s even more depressing to realize it while you’re still working on it but after it’s beyond any hope of salvation. But in this situation, there are still valid reasons to keep going and finish the track anyway. 

Solution:

Most producers have started far more tracks than they’ve finished. It’s much easier to give up in the middle of a project and move on to something new than it is to see a project through to the very end. 

But what most producers don’t realize is that each stage of the music- making process is itself a thing that requires practice. We get to be better sound designers by designing sounds. We get to be better drum programmers by programming drums. And we get to be better song finishers by finishing songs. Because of this, the more songs we start but don’t finish, the more opportunities we miss out on to practice finishing. And as a result, we might continually improve at various aspects of the early stages, but we’ll never improve at actually getting things done. 

If you realize very early that what you’re working on isn’t going to be successful, you probably have time to change directions and make things better. But if you’re very late in the process of making the track before realizing that it’s not good, it might be too late to fix it without completely gutting it (which is essentially the same as starting over). In these cases, forcing yourself to finish—no matter how painful—is often better than giving up. You’ll not only get practice finishing, but you’ll also get practice failing, in itself a valuable skill to learn in a subjective and unpredictable business like art. The better you get at finishing, and the better you get at coping with failure, the better your chances will be the next time you begin (and, hopefully, finish) a project. 

If the track is really as bad as you think, maybe there is a natural
end point that’s earlier than where you’d stop with a track you were happy with. For example, it might not make sense to get your new track professionally mastered. And it might be a good idea to not share it with the public. Maybe it just goes right back into your Scraps and Sketches (page 74) folder, to be pulled apart for use in other tracks later. But the important thing is that you actually finish the arrangement, if for no other reason than to practice, improve, and experience how it feels to finish.
 

Wise words. Taking the time out to sit down with this book for a while really unlocked things for me and stimulated me to finish the track. 

On to the next one. 

Agadir, Morocco, 2009

More deep house this week.

If you’re dreaming of sitting by a pool in foreign lands, or wondering whether you’ll even feel the sun this year, sit back and enjoy. Especially the bongos.

My favourite part of this track are the drums. It’s funny: I grew up a drummer, and before falling for electronic dance music, would regularly play drums with others. When I started producing, I may have taken drum production for granted, and assumed that my drums would work well.

Nowadays I know that drum programming does not happen by magic; it’s a craft to build a groove. For anyone interested, here’s a fantastic article from the good people at EDMProd: they call it The Ultimate Guide to Drum Programming. It’s not short.

Moods come and go. Light and darkness both come and go.

Perhemtian Islands, Malaysia, 2010

I had a religious upbringing and I’m very grateful for that, not so much for the particular set of beliefs, but for the awareness that life is a spiritual journey, and it has a transcendent dimension (if you take the time to become aware of it).

These words remain as beautiful as ever, and if you peer closely, seem to foreshadow the Corona pandemic almost 3000 years ago.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.

And so here some darkness. It comes and goes – I promise.

Competa, Spain, 2009

Time for a little sunshine!

To tell you the truth, I haven’t enjoyed working on a track quite this much in ages. There’s a lot a really like about this one, and it was a pleasure bringing it together.

May it bring you hope of sunny days to come!

Smiles I’ve seen around the world

These are not easy times – there is Corona around the world.

If you are in need of comfort, or your heart is in need of warming, I have created this piece of music for you.

May it bring you comfort, and a little hope.

I’ve been putting together some tutorials to help other music producers finish more music so they can share it with the world.

You can find the first episode below. It’s part of a series to help turn a short loop of music into a complete production.