Off the Record: June Edition.

To All Trains.

Fun fact: did you know that 100% of people who aren’t aware of this newsletter won’t get a chance to read it?

Help me out by spreading the word to the cool cats you know. I’d be forever grateful.

Creation is not art. Art is in editing.

Don’t we all create as children? With pencils and paint and whatever we can get our hands on while the grownups aren’t looking? We all have that creative streak at the beginning. But then society tames it down, way down, and you have to fight hard if you want to keep it.

Art is editing. Because it’s not about what you come up with. It’s about what you’ll choose to show. Ernest used to say, “the first draft of anything is shit”.

I couldn’t agree more. It’s part of the deal. The sooner you make your peace with it, the better. That’s why you need to be able to create freely, without judgment. Judgment is for later. For the editing part.

That’s when you pick what’s great and what isn’t. What you’ll show and what you’ll hide. We never said it was about sharing it all.

Truth is, most of what you’ll come up with won’t be worth pursuing. And that’s normal. Don’t think you suck if you need to write eight songs to come up with one worth releasing.

The more you do it, the better you get. And the higher the quality of your output. But your expectations will go up as well. You’ll pass on some songs that a few years back you’d have been so proud to show the world. Now they’re not worth your time.

That’s how it goes. It’s called progress.

And keep in mind that it ain’t linear, either. In some periods you’ll come up with a much higher ratio of good vs bad. And sometimes you’ll write a pile of shit to get to that one piece of gold. It’s part of the process.

The sooner you accept it, the better for your art. And for your own sanity. Because, as it turns out, the two are quite closely related.

But then again, what do I know…

By day, I run a song making shop called Rosemary Transduction. I work with artists of all shapes and sizes to craft tunes that make their listeners fall in love with them.

If you’re in need of pretty notes…

Let’s burn that bridge when we come to it.

I used to hate bridges. I was terrified of them. Never knew what to do.

Nowadays, they might be my favourite parts to create. Not every song needs one, mind you. But it’s the perfect opportunity to build a unique mood. Explore different emotions. Dive deeper in your colour palette. Reveal a twist about the story.

You can have it drop, then slowly bring the song back up. Play with layers and dynamics. Or you can keep the intensity going, but change the main rhythm pattern, for example. Or make it an instrumental section. It could be the best choice if you feel like you’ve been yapping quite a bit.

You have so many options. And they’re all valid, as long as you’re embracing the two main functions of a bridge:

- Bring a different mood to the song. It’s a one-time event, so try out your weird ideas.

- Bring us to that final chorus with renewed energy. Make it exciting. Go out with a bang.

A weak bridge can ruin a great song. But a great one? Oh man, it will elevate it so high you’ll need to double check your underwear.

I Don’t Fear Hell

One month ago, Steve Albini, recording engineer extraordinaire, passed away. As opinionated as he was gifted, Steve left us without a warning. He was only 61.

Steve is the reason I got into engineering. So I won’t insult his memory by linking to In Utero, Surfer Rosa or Rid of Me. No. You’re already familiar with these, and if you’re not, do your homework on your own time.

Today, while Steve’s sleeping the big sleep, let’s listen to a tune from his band Shellac. Steve passed ten days before the release of their sixth record. This is the last song from it.

Rest easy, king. And thank you for everything.

Fare Thee Well

Summer is around the corner, I hear. It’s been a confusing spring, but it also means that I’m celebrating six months of Off the Record!

As we reach the halfway point of 2024, take a moment to look back at what you’ve accomplished so far. It might not be as much as you would have liked (is it ever?), but give yourself a pat on the shoulder.

You came a long way to be here today. Isn’t that worth celebrating?

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