In retrospect, 2019 has been one of the hardest working years of my life. A culmination of 20 years of home recordings, learning as I went, and the buildout of a makeshift home studio. My goals were ambitious, my timelines were unreasonable, and my understanding of just about everything involved was nonexistent. In other words, it was a tremendous learning experience.

I’m in the final stretch before my first independent studio album release, and it feels good AF. It felt like I’ve spent forever paralyzed by the thought of mixing and mastering my recorded demos. Having that obstacle cleared has returned healthy blood flow to the heart of my songwriting. When I began exploring mixing and mastering it was all-consuming, so there was no time for writing if I was going to stick to the schedule and make the deadline.

Music production IS precision-based work, and it takes a tremendous amount of discipline to do this right. The experience has left me with a tremendous appreciation for the value that mixing and mastering engineers bring to the equation because I could not have succeeded alone. Along with appreciation comes a thirst to understand the technical nuances of an ever-expanding universe of audio hardware and software. I feel like I set myself up with a decade of learning ahead.

All of this kind of reminds me of when I began learning how to code to browsers, then later to mobile devices when the iPhone ushered in a new era of technology. The first dot-com boom, the second, and the mobile revolution. Fuck it’s good to be alive in this day and age. It also reminds me of my pops. Buzz ODonnell.

I appreciate my father’s influence and work ethic, his ability to troubleshoot farm machinery to get it running and operational for the start of whatever season we found ourselves in. He was an engineer, he was a student of people and life, a hacker, he spent all of his spare time reading, troubleshooting, and problem-solving. Regardless of my pursuits in higher education, I consider myself self-taught. University only gets you so far. It’s true I have 2 degrees, a Bachelors and Masters in Fine Arts, neither of which address the day in and day out tasks I need to take care of in music, or in maintaining my day gig. They do however speak volumes to who I am as a human being and what path I have chosen to pursue.

Art is about finding your own voice and path in the world. It’s about being told you are wrong by critics and having a mindset hell-bent on proving those in doubt of your abilities wrong. As 2019 was about willing an album to existence, 2020 will be about working to breathe life back into all of the songs already written while clearing the way to any new ideas that come down the pike. It’s going to be a fucking good year people, and I’m glad to be sharing this news with you on such a fine Sunday afternoon which commences the close of the year.

Pushing through objectivity in the mixing and mastering process to maintain your voice & vision.

I’m going to say something, many will disagree.

“Everybody has an opinion, but when it comes to art only the artist’s opinion matters.”  

Cue mass discord and bellowing boos. Bring it on bitches. As if I’ve never faced criticism or had to handle a naysayer. I’ve spent the better part of my life active in visual & performing arts, the other half on various day gigs that involve problem-solving. One thing we can all agree on is everyone has an opinion. Unless someone’s opinion is hidden deep within a good story, I could care less. My interests lie in the inspiration and the story locked within the song itself, the rest is noise.

Understanding what you don’t want is as important as knowing exactly what you want in just about every situation. In this case, I had no idea how important my involvement was during this phase of production. Now I know. Just like in the visual arts, the final steps to completion during the creative process are the most important. I’d venture to say this is true when creating any work of art. The final finishing touches are the defining steps, it’s what separates the men from the boys. Where some are comfortable with handing it off, I am not. For starters, it’s way too personal, and secondly, it’s hands down the best part of creating. 

Mistakes can often be our best instructors.  It’s all right to admit you don’t know something. To find yourself in the wrong. It’s how we learn. Continuous improvement.   I now find myself mixing and mastering with the help of Universal Audio’s Apollo x8p system. The plugins at my disposal are some of the most powerful in the history of recording. I may be naive and stupid for trying, but this same self-awareness and confidence were what helped me pick up the guitar in the first place. It’s the same gut feeling that gave me the balls to step up to a mic and sing my first original. This feeling tells me to go for it, and learn. If the first release doesn’t work, then there will be others. Thousands of more to come.

When you get to the heart of it, this conversation is not about opinions. It’s about maintaining needed control throughout the creative process. Hearing an off mix was the catalyst that helped me embark on a road to demystify the mixing & mastering process. I’m learning and improving output daily. I’m way better off than I was a month ago, many assumptions have been replaced with hard research and action.  

From where I’m sitting in my mix room, the road ahead looks damn good.

A funny thing happened last night when I played open mic at a friends wine tasting room, I fell back in love with local music.   It’s a place I’ve been absent from for a few years.

While learning to trust my own voice, I’ve met musicians from all sorts of backgrounds; from seasoned older jazz statesmen like Milt Hinton, Barry Harris, Curtis Fuller, Frank Foster, Milt Jackson and so many others that used to teach through NYC’s Jazz Mobile project. That’s just one small pocket of players. Many other country, rock, and folk legends, but I digress. One consistent trait across the broad range of people playing to countless genres in music is a humble approach to the disciplines which surround music. 

It’s a brotherhood & sisterhood where arrogance leaves the room and acceptance and encouragement welcomes all. It’s funny, but being an arrogant prick or a dickhead in music is usually a true sign of amateur hour.

Now that I think of it, that truth is consistent across all industries. Another truth is how music thrives in tight knight communities. Go watch “Echo in the Canyon“.

For a Tuesday night, there was a good crowd that was building at Coomber Family Wines, O-Side. A local hero was ripping it on acoustic, which is always a good sign. I ordered a glass of Pinot at the bar, signed up, waited my turn until I was called up after a few jams.

Next up Ron…. Is there a Ron here?” Silence. A couple of awkward minutes. I raised my hand, “I’m the Ram bro.” “Correction, is there a Ram in the audience? You’re up!” Fuck yeah! Unpack my National steel, tuned it up and lay down a trusted original. 

I started with “Do It Right” an older composition that was a 2 chord jam with a simple chorus & bridge. The guy running the event agreed to sit in and holy shit, what a badass. His name is Marco Savoia, check him out! His double-bass backbeat just about blew me off the stage, a veritable powerhouse of foot-stomping and string slapping. I felt super loose, and extended the song out in a manner that you do when you are enjoying the simple act of playing, I also was listening to the bassman add intricate runs that have never been put to my song in the bast. A bass solo, HOLY FUCK!

Overflowing with confidence now, the second song I chose was fresh off the notebook. I’d recorded a demo and a shitty music video of it but had yet to play it in front of anybody but fellow musicians at the home studio. “Keep Warm” was exactly what I wanted for the next song. The only problem came when I forgot my lyrics and chords. 

Now we’ve all done it and know how badly it sucks, but it’s all how well you recover from the situation. Some people exit stage left never to perform again. I flubbed a couple of chords then said to the audience,

“Hey everyone, you know what, FUCK IT, I’m going to try this one more time with feeling.”

It came like a warm breeze. All the chord changes, the lyrics, the intensity of the first time I penned it to paper. There you have it hero to zero in two songs. I needed a closer. “Motor Kine” was a song that fit that bill. I also just noticed the place was filling in with some of the local music heroes. All the members of Shane Hall’s band were there along with Shane himself. 

On the beach a few days earlier I was talking to a surfing buddy who is starting the trials for the Baja 1000, he was just starting to get back into it and I asked if I could make a music video to his racing footage. So “Motor Kine” was fresh on my mind and I let it rip. That’s when my mind transported me to the outer reaches of the Baja Peninsula all along the Pacific Ocean. The heart & the inspiration for the song.

Race down the Pacific Ocean. 

Run down that Mexico sand. 

Just for nothing babe,

 just cause I want to…

Gonna fly all across this land.

That felt good, we locked into a nice groove feel and jammed that shit out. Got loose enough to put in a guitar solo with the bass was locked in so well. Damn, hand my guitar off for Shane to use and I’m done. Time to listen and take it in.

The real reason I felt compelled to write about the experience was the discussions that took place after everyone played. I’d never met Kaleo Wassman before, he was one of the warmest souls I’ve ever met. When I apologized for forgetting my lyrics, he told me how cool it was and that forgetting lyrics is a true sign of an artist. This was a place where a songwriter could share his new material in the company of friends.

This was heaven.