Tuesday, December 15, 2009

THE NEW CD - Generally Speaking

The new CD. It has taken so much work, but I think it may be finished. The package design has already been sent to Discmakers and we're still fine tuning the master. I don't know what to say about it right now, except that I am exhausted.

This is the process -- write a song, then re-write it, and re-write and re-write. Then record it at the home studio, re-write again, and chart it out. Then mentally assemble a group of musicians to record it, send it out to all of them along with the words and charts. Then comes the scheduling of all involved. We finally meet in the studio to make the final arrangement decisions and actually record it. Now you listen to this song, I can't count the number of times, fine tuning each musician's part, bringing up this phrase, taking down that one countless, countless times, plus adding new instrument voices to the mix as you go and doing all the mixing with those tracks. Then you multiply this process by 12 songs. I am totally exhausted, and I have no idea how my Ed, my engineer has managed to stay sane through the whole thing. 

If I have listened to the songs a hundred times, Ed has listened to them a thousand, tweaking here and there constantly. All told, it's been two years -- thank goodness it hasn't been a constant thing until just lately. I have only a vague notion of all of the things, effects, whatever, that can be done through audio engineering. I'm an analog girl, and knew my way around the analog studio. Everything is digital now, analog to the nth degree. There are the technical aspects of making all of the voices, human and instrumental, achieve a certain level, and a certain warmth and freshness. It is unknown to most that recording is done flat, with all resonance and such taken away, and then those characteristics are added back in. The whole point is to be able to make all of the instruments sound like a cohesive unit. I can't explain it much more than that. I do know it is a great deal of work.

It does things to your ego, listening to yourself that much. One might think it would be a wonderful thing, but it's not. First of all, I'm not that fond of my voice, and then there are the thousand tiny things I wish I could change -- one song should have been in a higher key, one was faster than I intended it, I kind of flubbed that note, etc., etc., etc., ad nauseum.

It is nearly done, though. I probably wouldn't be able to listen to it full all the way through again, were it not for the wonderful job that the musicians did. I have to admit that I am less interested in my singing than I am the playing of these musicians. I know I will enjoy this album for the rest of my life simply because of the wonderful musical talent that is on it. If it were up to me, the music would go on forever. Just hang an iPod on my ears when you cart me off to the old folks' home.

I have said this before, that song writing is a singular, solitary thing, and what you manage to croak out and strum on your front porch becomes a whole new thing when you invite other people to join in and put their own impressions to it. This process to me, is the most fun thing I can ever think to do. To be able to sit down with wonderful players and let them take my song, everybody contributing in, and make it into something else completely is, well, my idea of a good time. That's what does it for me. 

Saturday, December 5, 2009

A Time To Be Quiet

It's been over a year since I wrote last, but the time has not been wasted. I've been busy at work finishing my CD, Girl Who Loves Horses, and I'm happy to say that I sent the artwork to the cover off yesterday. Hopefully the mixing will be done soon and that too can go off to DiscMakers.

I've also had the honor of working on an old friend's book, although I've had to put it on the back burner the last month. He is 90 years old, and this book that I'm editing will be a compilation of photographs that he's gathered to himself all of these years. It's a wonderful collection and it's been a great journey for me to be a part of it.

I had to put another of my animals to sleep a couple of weeks ago, and it's made me feel very quiet. I'm not one who makes it a habit to speak when I have nothing to say, but this time I found I had too much to say, and so was ironically rendered speechless. She was old by any standard, she was my mare, and she was ill and she was suffering, and so it was time, but, as always with the four-leggeds, their lives are not as long as yours and so at some point you will surely suffer heartbreak in return for all of the love they have given so easily to you. The price of love is grief, the owner of Barbero said, and they were eloquent words in their simplicity. 

And so I will begin to write, perhaps to share my chapters of my fiction novel I plan to finish following my friend's photo book. But for now, I just need to be a little quiet, just a little longer.