Making My Own Album (and what I learned from it)

Making My Own Solo Album – And What I Learned From It

One day I woke up to find that I was 50 years old. OUCH!!!
How could this happen to ME???

I looked in the rear view mirror of my life, (objects in this mirror are larger than they appear)
and saw that I had spent over 30 years playing music (mostly to drunk people) in various bands in
countless places.
Most of those places are gone now.
I asked myself, “So what do you have to show for all those years?”
I answered myself, “Not so much.”

So, in 2006, I made some New Year’s Resolutions:

(1.) I would stop doing live gigs. (Nobody seemed to notice anyways)

(2.) I would take a year to record my own album.
I promised myself that I’d record one song per month, until I got 12 songs, equaling one CD.

Sounds good, right?

That “one year,” lasted for over three years.

Next...

I converted a spare bedroom, into my “studio.”
Luckily, I have a very understanding and supportive wife.
She said that as long as the ironing board could stay in there, it was cool with her.

I was on a very low, almost non-existent budget.
I had no band, nor did I want to go through the aggravation of building one. (had enough of that)
I decided that I would sing and play all the parts myself.
Recording almost all of the tracks alone was harder than I ever could have imagined.
There were many obstacles.
For one thing, I wasn’t very good at playing all the instruments myself. That didn’t stop me from
trying though.

Gear

I used one eight track hard disc recorder, (a used Zoom 1044MRS)
A Variax 700 – The most useful home recording instrument in the world.
Two Fender Telecasters
A Gibson Jumbo acoustic
A Fender Resonator (slide guitar)
A Fender Jazz Bass
A Fluke Ukulele
A Bestler Mandolin
Lee Oscar Harmonicas
Kawai K2 Synthesizer
Pod XT Live Effects pedal
Rat distortion pedal
Rob Keeler’s “brown box” overdrive pedal
Three Zoom drum machines
Various Microphones
1 rug with Elvis Presley's face on it

I didn’t use any guitar amplifiers at all. I used a few effects pedals and plugged directly into the
board.

I did not use pro-tools software, or any other computer programs.
There was no pitch correction on the vocals, no compressors or equalizers, no samplers, or midi
sequencing, no fancy technological tricks.

Obstacles

There never seemed to be enough time. Scheduling recording time, even in my own house, was
difficult.
So where will you find the time you need to record?
It's simple. Give up watching TV. TV sucks anyways, so why not do something more productive?

The noise in my neighborhood was a real obstacle too. It seemed that every time I plugged a
microphone in, there was a barking dog, screaming kids, lawnmowers, chainsaws, motorcycles,
trucks, jets, screeching blue jays, telephones, doorbells, helicopters, and sirens.
All of the above made guest appearances on my recordings.

There were lots of overdubs, lots of bouncing tracks, lots of erasing, lot’s of giving up and starting
all over again.
Lot’s of lonely decisions were made.
Lot’s of things got kicked. Lot’s of things got thrown at walls.
Pacing and swearing were regular events. Cats were yelled at.
I had no band to argue with, nobody steering my song into unknown directions.
I did enough of that all by myself.
I had to depend on myself, and I often doubted myself.
I was free to record in any style I wanted to try, and I tried quite a few.

Lessons learned:

I learned that some days are creative days and some days just aren’t.
I learned that writing and recording are two different things.
I found out that just because you wrote it, doesnt mean its good, but if it IS good you will feel it.
It’s important to tune into your feelings and trust them. Open up, and remain open.

If you leap, a net will appear.
Some songs want to be born. Let them tell you what they want to be.

Perfection is not only impossible, it’s undesirable. Real music has warts.
Music is NOT JUST MATH. The feeling is much more important than the math.
Trust your feelings. Always play what feels best.

I learned to go into my studio wearing different hats on different days.
I would be an engineer one day, a producer the next, a studio musician or singer the day after that.
Wiring things and troubleshooting destroy the creative mood.
I learned that happy people make better music.

I learned that ear fatigue is a nasty enemy, and you will lose whenever you fight it.

I learned that playing and listening at low volumes prevents ear fatigue.
If a song sounds good when it’s loud, it should sound good when turned down too.
You shouldn’t have to turn it up to feel it.
I learned never to track and mix on the same day.

I learned to quit when I was ahead, and happy.
I learned to walk away and give it a rest when I got stuck.
I learned that some answers need time before they reveal themselves, but they usually reveal
themselves.
I learned that recording should never be a race.
I also learned that perseverance and failure cannot coexist.
Determination is a strong slow powerful thing.

It's your song.
Only you know if you're doing the very best you can.
If you are doing the very best you can, don't take shit from anybody!

As I went along I noticed that I was developing methods.
Soon I found that I had a style of recording which came about on its own.
During your best take- the phone will ring, the dog will bark, the furnace will kick in, you will burp,
fart, etc... SAVE YOUR WORK OFTEN.

For every song I began, there were two or three that I gave up on.
For every song I finished, there were two or three songs I just didn’t like.
I think that if you like everything you write, you might not be seeing things clearly.

Over Three Years Later…

I ended up with over 35 songs recorded on that small machine, in fact I maxed it out. (Disc Full!)
When the machine was out of memory I took that as a sign to quit.
I stopped, and picked the 14 songs I would use for my album.

Some songs took a week or two to finish, some took as long as four months, and several never got
finished at all.

After three years of hard work, it’s done.
Now that it’s done, I’m proud of the hard work I did, but I can clearly see the mistakes I made.
It’s no masterpiece. That’s OK. I know that I tried as hard as I could.

At times it was a lot of fun, and at times it was exasperating, but I’m glad I did it.
People may like it or dislike it, there’s nothing I can do about that either way.
It’s their decision, not mine.

I made my resolutions and I kept them. (even if it took 3 times longer than I thought it would)
I did it. No one can take that away from me.

Fool that I am, I'll do it all over again.
Round and round we go...