STUDIO DIARY
OK. Now it's getting good. Pride is creeping in. That isn't as bad as it sounds because in a moment, hours or minutes, the fear and questioning will return.
Enjoy your pride.
2.22.2005
He Just Knew it was Over
"It is his special curse: to be able to fill his body with alcohol and drugs, and always have it function; never to be able to blot out what he has seen, what he knows. And looking around, he knows that it is over: the revolution, the fighting, the chance to be different. The counterculture has become The Culture, and out there in the streets is the proof...." (1976)
- Robert Sam Anson
"It is his special curse: to be able to fill his body with alcohol and drugs, and always have it function; never to be able to blot out what he has seen, what he knows. And looking around, he knows that it is over: the revolution, the fighting, the chance to be different. The counterculture has become The Culture, and out there in the streets is the proof...." (1976)
- Robert Sam Anson
2.18.2005
STUDIO DIARY
I've been hand's off, for the most part. I need space. Space to forget. Space for the ears to heal. Space to think.
Needless to say, the record is always on my mind. In everything I do.
Listening to everything: music, sounds, noise, rumblings...words.
Getting closer. Will it be the masterpiece? Dunno. Will it be laughable shit? Dunno.
I see the mountain of work left, but am already saddened that it has to come to a conclusion.
Albums are trippy like that.
I've been hand's off, for the most part. I need space. Space to forget. Space for the ears to heal. Space to think.
Needless to say, the record is always on my mind. In everything I do.
Listening to everything: music, sounds, noise, rumblings...words.
Getting closer. Will it be the masterpiece? Dunno. Will it be laughable shit? Dunno.
I see the mountain of work left, but am already saddened that it has to come to a conclusion.
Albums are trippy like that.
2.10.2005
2.09.2005
Cleverness is never as entertaining as blatant stupidity, failure and public humiliation.... The time of getting fame for your name on its own is over. Artwork that is only about wanting to be famous will never make you famous. Any fame is a bi-product of making something that means something. You don't go to a restaurant and order a meal because you want to have a shit.- Banksy
From late 1998:
It's a Very Different World Again
Between all this Presidential blow-job cover-up nonsense and the bombing of terrorists (us & them, here & abroad), our world is again a very different place. Privacy doesn't exist. Peace does not exist. We've fooled ourselves to believe that they both exist. Our culture stagnates while cigar bars flourish. How did we become so deluded? Well, times have been good. Money is in the bank. Porsche sales are at an all time high. Well, believe me, there are more desperate poor in America today than at any other time. There are more people in prison in America than at any other time. The good old USofA has more internal and external enemies than at any other time. But times are good, remember.
This is a country for the young and the rich. If you are not either, you are nothing. If you are both, you're fat and happy (Americans are the fattest beasts on the planet). Why are we so consumed with Presidential fellatio? Why does the TV news compete to dictate what is important? We've forgotten what's important...because times have been so good. Individuals have grown selfish and narrow. The American economy is strong and the rich and the young are in control. Have you watched network television or listened to commercial radio lately? We live in happy-talk times, folks. We're dim to the ills of our own old and poor and we are completely blind to the relevant issues of the world. We're over-sensationalized ourselves into a coma. History predicts change.
For those who keep our eyes open and our ears to the ground, it's in the air. Things change. Someone has to take advantage.
It's a Very Different World Again
Between all this Presidential blow-job cover-up nonsense and the bombing of terrorists (us & them, here & abroad), our world is again a very different place. Privacy doesn't exist. Peace does not exist. We've fooled ourselves to believe that they both exist. Our culture stagnates while cigar bars flourish. How did we become so deluded? Well, times have been good. Money is in the bank. Porsche sales are at an all time high. Well, believe me, there are more desperate poor in America today than at any other time. There are more people in prison in America than at any other time. The good old USofA has more internal and external enemies than at any other time. But times are good, remember.
This is a country for the young and the rich. If you are not either, you are nothing. If you are both, you're fat and happy (Americans are the fattest beasts on the planet). Why are we so consumed with Presidential fellatio? Why does the TV news compete to dictate what is important? We've forgotten what's important...because times have been so good. Individuals have grown selfish and narrow. The American economy is strong and the rich and the young are in control. Have you watched network television or listened to commercial radio lately? We live in happy-talk times, folks. We're dim to the ills of our own old and poor and we are completely blind to the relevant issues of the world. We're over-sensationalized ourselves into a coma. History predicts change.
For those who keep our eyes open and our ears to the ground, it's in the air. Things change. Someone has to take advantage.
2.08.2005
On another note, I'm almost at the point with this new record where I sell a few more bones to the devil and leave a pint of blood on the floor. The point where one puts one's heart into the project. Sometimes that comes early and you clean it up in production. Sometimes you do the left brain stuff up front and build a solid foundation, then you color out of the lines.
Once I cocoa up, I think I can put the emotion in and go into the middlespace. I may or may not come out with shoes.
I'm almost there. It's a defining point; the point where the result is art or product. The point where, if you're lucky, you fall squarely onto the favorable side of the conceptually stellar ^ random nonesense razor.
Once I cocoa up, I think I can put the emotion in and go into the middlespace. I may or may not come out with shoes.
I'm almost there. It's a defining point; the point where the result is art or product. The point where, if you're lucky, you fall squarely onto the favorable side of the conceptually stellar ^ random nonesense razor.
2.07.2005
STUDIO DIARY
Something was bothering me. Specifically, I couldn't pinpoint. But, something was wrong with track seven, The Mighty Judge.
After the preliminary mixdown, I knew that it would require major work to make it usable. At some point a couple of nights ago, I woke up, went down stairs and deleter track seven. Scrapped in total. Delete, are you sure? Yes! Bye-bye.
I've never flet better.
The replacement tune, tentatively titled Track Seven, makes me happy. Very happy. It's not nearly as technically difficult or conceptually challenging, but it's warm and cozy. Safe.
Good for me.
Something was bothering me. Specifically, I couldn't pinpoint. But, something was wrong with track seven, The Mighty Judge.
After the preliminary mixdown, I knew that it would require major work to make it usable. At some point a couple of nights ago, I woke up, went down stairs and deleter track seven. Scrapped in total. Delete, are you sure? Yes! Bye-bye.
I've never flet better.
The replacement tune, tentatively titled Track Seven, makes me happy. Very happy. It's not nearly as technically difficult or conceptually challenging, but it's warm and cozy. Safe.
Good for me.
2.04.2005
STUDIO DIARY
First full-length mix-down today.
Some stuff finished, some with great potential. Some work remaining, some fixes and adjustments to be made. Lots of nitpicky crafting to accomplish. Perfection to attain.
At one section of the seventh cut, I wrote in my notes "More sonic adventures?" Is that possible? What does this piece of work mean?
At ~45 minutes it's already pretty dense (and strange (and confusing (and fucking beautiful!))).
I guess the good news is I did find 18 seconds to cut...
There's a couple of months left in this project yet.
Today's words of wisdom: What may sound great on headphones may sound completely ridiculous on speakers.
First full-length mix-down today.
Some stuff finished, some with great potential. Some work remaining, some fixes and adjustments to be made. Lots of nitpicky crafting to accomplish. Perfection to attain.
At one section of the seventh cut, I wrote in my notes "More sonic adventures?" Is that possible? What does this piece of work mean?
At ~45 minutes it's already pretty dense (and strange (and confusing (and fucking beautiful!))).
I guess the good news is I did find 18 seconds to cut...
There's a couple of months left in this project yet.
Today's words of wisdom: What may sound great on headphones may sound completely ridiculous on speakers.
2.01.2005
1.31.2005
STUDIO DIARY
TY: This album is getting weird, even for me. It's kind of scaring me, but I have no context or feedback. So far it's completely in a vacuum. I just hope it doesn't suck.
DAVE: I hope it doesn't either. What an embarrassment and tremendous waste of time it would be for you if it did.
OK, just echoing your fears. Of course that's not true! I guess that's the way you start to feel sometimes when you tell someone you're going to do something as opposed to doing it first. It can get in the way, the expectations, or imagined expectations I should say. Okay, just projecting my fears on you.
Weird and scary. I like it already.
TY: What's interesting is I'm working on projects all the time - constantly - most of those no one sees or hears. They're just filed away, maybe for practice for sharpness. But, I stay somewhat productive: writing, photos, design, music/sound. And, I'm thinking about art all the time. But, nobody knows or cares, right?
But, by announcing, "Hey, look at me, I'm gonna make a new album, aren't I cool and interesting?!" it intentionally puts a great deal of pressure on me, self-inflected pressures. I become very sensitized and cognizant of expectations. Rich, Dave, Dan, three or four others...me! Each step of the process becomes double-filtered: What I want to do and what impact will it have on/for others. Makes it hard, but helps me build in surprises or the unexpected. Makes me work for quality. Makes me sweat the details.
And expectations are great. For me and hopefully for others. I mean, what could people possibly think this will sound like? That's so interesting to me. I mean, what if I produce a clean, professional, pop album full of light, safe topics? I mean, we killed god on OFR. What if it just sucked? Everything about it, sloppy technique, bad ideas, amateurish attempt at being relevant or a desperate attempt at being fresh? Happens all the time; artists lose it, writers get blocked, rock stars buy the act and cannot see the forest any more. Happens all the time.
I don't know. I still feel that most people will never get what I do. That's why my attended audiences are so small. Hopefully, maybe Brennan can do this, someday my lifelong body of work will be placed into some context. Or, maybe it'll just die with me like my deepest, darkest secrets.
Suck or not, it'll take years for me to understand or appreciate the efforts. I'm just beginning to understand my earlier work.
TY: This album is getting weird, even for me. It's kind of scaring me, but I have no context or feedback. So far it's completely in a vacuum. I just hope it doesn't suck.
DAVE: I hope it doesn't either. What an embarrassment and tremendous waste of time it would be for you if it did.
OK, just echoing your fears. Of course that's not true! I guess that's the way you start to feel sometimes when you tell someone you're going to do something as opposed to doing it first. It can get in the way, the expectations, or imagined expectations I should say. Okay, just projecting my fears on you.
Weird and scary. I like it already.
TY: What's interesting is I'm working on projects all the time - constantly - most of those no one sees or hears. They're just filed away, maybe for practice for sharpness. But, I stay somewhat productive: writing, photos, design, music/sound. And, I'm thinking about art all the time. But, nobody knows or cares, right?
But, by announcing, "Hey, look at me, I'm gonna make a new album, aren't I cool and interesting?!" it intentionally puts a great deal of pressure on me, self-inflected pressures. I become very sensitized and cognizant of expectations. Rich, Dave, Dan, three or four others...me! Each step of the process becomes double-filtered: What I want to do and what impact will it have on/for others. Makes it hard, but helps me build in surprises or the unexpected. Makes me work for quality. Makes me sweat the details.
And expectations are great. For me and hopefully for others. I mean, what could people possibly think this will sound like? That's so interesting to me. I mean, what if I produce a clean, professional, pop album full of light, safe topics? I mean, we killed god on OFR. What if it just sucked? Everything about it, sloppy technique, bad ideas, amateurish attempt at being relevant or a desperate attempt at being fresh? Happens all the time; artists lose it, writers get blocked, rock stars buy the act and cannot see the forest any more. Happens all the time.
I don't know. I still feel that most people will never get what I do. That's why my attended audiences are so small. Hopefully, maybe Brennan can do this, someday my lifelong body of work will be placed into some context. Or, maybe it'll just die with me like my deepest, darkest secrets.
Suck or not, it'll take years for me to understand or appreciate the efforts. I'm just beginning to understand my earlier work.
1.28.2005
1.23.2005
1.22.2005
1.17.2005
1.10.2005
1.04.2005
Daniel Lefcourt is a non-painter's painter.
He's an artist who happens to make paintings—although maybe this could be said of all painters.
He's an artist who happens to make paintings—although maybe this could be said of all painters.
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