Off the Record - August Edition

Sit down, have a cold drink. This might be a rant. I’m not sure, I don’t know much about the internet.

August arrived without my permission. I’ll be straight with you: that pissed me off a little.

I don’t know where you are, but over here it’s scorching. And it’s been this way for a while. If you know one thing about me, it’s that I don’t do well in the heat.

The heat of battle, setting up microphones and handling the rush of ideas behind the desk of a big studio, this one I manage fine. But when the temperature starts to rise… We enter that period of the year where I’m plain good for nothing.

For a musician, summer can be a busy period. For a record producer or a tracking engineer, it used to be as well. Back when I was living in Paris, the big studios were empty for most of July and August.
All of us indies were there, lying in the shade, waiting to pounce. This was our time. The moment we’d been waiting for all year.

We’d cut great deals with studio managers, and at last we’d go in to make that gorgeous indie project.
We’d head underground, away from the brutal silence of the urban heat. And we’d chip away at it, happy as can be, sitting behind the big Neve, making a proper record with that small of a budget.

Since the global pandemic, things changed quite a bit. Remember COVID? Seems like a half-remembered dream these days, doesn’t it? I’m not even sure it happened at this point. Did we really do all that…?

Anyhoo. I’m in a very tangent-y mood today, you’ll pardon me. The heat. I blame it on the heat. Yes, that’s what I was getting at.

When summer comes, I feel dumb. Most people laugh when I say that. I guess I don’t explain it well.

Not that I’m a genius the rest of the year, but I only feel like a subpar version of myself during the warmest months. Like my abilities have been stolen from me and put away for better use at a later time. I don’t know.

These days, I try to not work on much music during the summer. It wouldn’t reflect my best ideas. It so happens that most artists are on the road trying to make a living anyway, lining up as many dates as they can squeeze in.
So all is well that ends well, right? Artists are busy playing gigs, and I get to chill for a while.

I had a point when I started typing, I swear.

So, I’m dumber during the summer. That’s why you’re getting this stupid email today. None of the usual, wise stuff. Ain’t got the brain for that shit.

I started this newsletter thing in December. Before that, I blogged for a while. I also posted on Medium, LinkedIn, Instagram, Twitter… Trying to bring my meagre contribution to this weird industry.

I’m very grateful to each and every one of you who read my shit. You have no idea. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside thinking that actual artists are reading my words every month.

Yet, most of you are very quiet. And as I am moving away from socials, I want to encourage you to interact with me here.

It can feel lonely sometimes trying to come up with good stuff. I’m not a mind reader, so let me know when a point resonates with you. My experience reminds you of yours? Do me a favour: hit Reply and tell me the story! It’s no fun if it’s just me yelling from the top of the hill. Let’s make this a conversation.

The last message I received was literally “love the last newsletter, please keep them coming!”
See? It doesn’t have to be a whole novel either.

Now that that’s out of the way:

I’m taking a break from the regular content this month, as you’ve probably gathered if you’ve read this far. In the meantime, I wish you well. I hope you’ll enjoy some down time as the temperatures climb up.

Please find below a tune I’ve been quite obsessed with in recent weeks. Dispose of with care.

Til next time, cats. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

Nineteen

P.S.: if this newsletter has left you feeling inspired, do me a huge favour and tell one person to subscribe.