Recently, I've been thinking that the process of developing one's musical skills is like climbing a mountain, except that everytime you think you've reached the peak, it turns out to be a small summit, and the true peak remains hidden in the clouds. For every moment that you think, "Yeah, I'm really good," there are countless moments when you think, "I'm not good enough," and this seems to remain true no matter how long you work at it.
Case in point - Making these rough, formative recordings has been a humbling experience. Most of my experience has been in playing live as part of a band, which takes a somewhat different skill set than recording. Being in a band is a social experience. You bond with the other players, and support them just as they support you. You have to be able to listen as well as play, which may seem easy and obvious, but is actually one of the elements of that nebulous concept that is talent. Recording is different. It's kind of solipsistic, especially solo recordings. There's nothing but your sound versus the empty space. And empty space has a way of making you look bad, instead of holding you up the way a good drummer does. Empty space just sits there, daring you to come up with an idea that's better than blank Zen perfection.
As a result of all this, it seems that with each of these recordings I make, I get more critical and demanding of myself. Which is good, really. Once I feel like I've finished with this project, I'm going to have a lot of pent-up energy ready to spend on more structured compositions.
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