Tuesday, May 14, 2024: CotD and How I Write/Record Songs, pt. 2

Collage of the day, and more process, anyone?

CotD! Below, but first…

The countdown is on:

• 5/30: ICHQ Pop-up Shop in the Asheville Mall softly opens

• 5/31: Candy Macabre official release—vinyl preorders start shipping, album appears on the streamers

• 6/1: Album Release Event at the Pop-up

Another installment in the write/record process series

I started this series over here.

My previous recording devices were digital 8-tracks—the ones my Chicago home studio was built around. I had a Fostex with a broken record button that I later upgraded to a fully-unbroken Tascam. Prior to setting up that studio in the 2010-2015 era, I recorded with friends on their equipment (a cassette four track way back and a camera interface/video editing program later on), but the Tascam and the Fostex are the only other recorders I owned before the Spire, which I just learned is discontinued 🙄

This is what my first recorder looked like. I got mine very used and the record button was broken, so I used a 1/4 inch plug to push the sensor on the circuit board to start recording. It worked.

The Tascam I had

I found the Spire app pretty quickly when I started looking around for a DAW, but there are lots of multitrack recorder software options. (This is not a paid post, but to be clear, I would gladly accept iZotope’s money as I actually do endorse their product.) Spire is free and has great functionality. Most of Candy Macabre (available for preorder!) was recorded on the free version, running on iPhones. You pay if/when you buy the hardware, which unlocks a bunch of additional features and most importantly allows you to connect additional microphones!! The unit has a built-in condenser mic and two xlr inputs. What more could you want!?!

Here’s a tighter shot of the Spire unit all lit up—with demitasse cup adjacent. (I drink a lot of espresso.) But all I’ve written about so far is tech/gear. There’s more to be said about it, but it’s time to (*sigh*) talk about the actual writing of songs.

Making Up Songs

This is the cringiest part of the process-disclosure process for me. I prefer to think of it as “making up songs”—rather than “writing songs” or the even-worse term “songwriting.” Because what am I, like a song author? Yuck. To be clear, I don’t judge others who use those or similar terms to describe what they do, but I don’t like them as descriptors of what I do. This may seem precious, but it is actually pretty intense self-deprecation. Fine line.

Prior to when I started using the Indoor Condor name in 2018, I had written relatively few songs. Frankly I hadn’t tried that much. I’m planning to write a little essay on my mental health journey and work with my inner critic (cringe city!) but there really is no better place to start with this inner-critic topic than right here. My trajectory writing songs tracks exactly with my evolving relationship with my inner critic.

I said before I hadn’t tried to write many songs. That’s true. Because whenever I entertained the idea, anything I started to come up with—lyrically or musically—I would immediately dismiss as either obviously, brazenly derivative, or simply dumb, which is still the diagnosis most of the time. A few songs made it through this filter. But not many. There’s one from this pre-2018 era that stands out for me, and that I’ve since posted on the IC Bandcamp. This song was recorded in the old Chicago studio, which I most often called “the Batcave.”

Now, having made-up dozens of songs under the IC banner, I have settled into a way of working, but it’s always a little nebulous. While there is some predictability, I feel like it’s still mostly a matter of luck that anything comes together. I understand that other people have more structured ways of writing songs. That’s foreign to me.

What I don’t do: Start with the music. I like to play and improvise, and I do it lots, often making up little riffs or chord progressions that I’ll play over and over. All of that musical exploration generally goes nowhere in terms of becoming songs, and I rarely play the same thing again the next time I pick up a guitar. I’ll record these little bits with the intention of working them into songs or building songs around them. This never happens.

What does? Check the paid feed and future installments in this series!

Today’s collage: The Neighborhood Inside

Though he was initially dismayed by the volcano’s effect on his body, the discovery of an infrared five-bedroom home (with detached garage!) where his head once was delights the coloring-book bear.

NSFW collage for the paid feed: Cheetah Stretch