Lessons Learned From The Butterpump

So One Fine Ride’s Butterpump came up on the shuffle yesterday. Normally I would skip all (most) music that I’ve had a hand in creating in part or whole. It’s a natural reaction for me since like forever. The reaction depends on mood.

Maybe I had been particularly primed to listen since I had just listened to one of J-Son’s 2001 piece called Track 01. I didn’t make that track – OK, I can claim co-producer since I advised and styled the recording and mix of the vocals, but whatever, that’s not important. What’s important is I heard Butterpump today.

It came on. I listened. I was in the car.

One Fine Ride came out in, what, ’99? That was ages ago; pop/commercial music-wise, it was a million years back:

RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE The Battle of Los Angeles
THE ROOTS Things Fall Apart
NINE INCH NAILS The Fragile

Butterpump couldn’t have made any sense in 1999. To audiences? Nope. To us? Barely.

It’s striking how much I enjoyed listening to the song. It’s quite a complex and somewhat psychologically demented journey. I recall thinking, “My god, what the hell is this?!”

Then. Then! Two tracks later, Tunneldump – from the same record – came on. If Butterpump is “demented” then Tunneldump is “insanity.” Blasted out! And, synchronized to weird maximums. That drumming? I recall thinking, “My god, what the hell is this?!”

It was almost as if I couldn’t get enough. Oh shuffle gods, thank you.

It’s called a “record” for a reason. It’s a memory stamp of a time/place/era. It’s a blurry photograph of our past. Forever it will mean something to someone. Aging can be sweet. Records or future gifts, creation is a way to mark territory; like urine on a fire hydrant.

I guess the lesson I’m trying to express is: Even if it makes little sense, even if your project seems a bit silly, do it. It may make some sense – someday.