Reading Time: About 4 minutes.
The more time I spend making records, the more I’ve come to embrace the delete button.
When I was starting out as a young producer, delete wasn’t even an option. “Hmm, I’ve spent the entire day working on this song and it’s a boring, soul-sucking, lifeless turd. I know what I’ll do, I’ll spend another day doing more of the same and that will make it better.”
Actually acknowledging that the day’s work should be tossed was just too painful. All those hours for nothing!
The irony is, it’s only a waste of time if the day’s crappy work is kept. If you have the courage to push delete, then it’s not a waste at all. You just empowered yourself to move on, learn from the mistakes, and do better work.
I remember taking the first record I produced to get mastered. This is the last and final step in the process before sending it off to be manufactured and distributed. I had spent literally hundreds of hours on this project and many sleepless all-nighters. After listening to the material, trying to make it work, the mastering engineer turned to me and said “You need to go back and fix these tracks. There are too many issues. You clearly are in over your head and don’t know what you’re doing.”
I left the studio with my un-mastered record in hand, walked out to the little strip of grass next to the sidewalk, and threw up.
All those hours wasted…
At least that’s what it felt like. But looking back on this career low, I learned more that day than with any record I’ve produced since. A month later, after some tweaking, re-working, and enlisting the help of some people who were more experienced than me, I returned with a better record.
I have come to that same crossroad many times since and always face the same question of which perspective I will take. Have I invested too much time and ego – is it just too costly to go back – or is this an opportunity to do something better?
I have found it helpful to be aware of the following elements in order to turn a setback into a learning experience, and ultimately create a better result.
- Be fully present – If I’m distracted or half-assing it, the result will be half-ass work. And if I’m too distracted I won’t even notice that the work is not good. This may seem obvious, but in the world in which we live – with smartphones, Facebook, Instagram etc. – let’s face it – this is a huge challenge. So, turn off the damn phone!
- Don’t make it personal – Steven Pressfield in The War of Art states:“We (the professional artists) do not over-identify with our jobs. We make take pride in our work, we may stay late and come in on the weekends, but we recognize that we are not our job descriptions. The amateur, on the other hand, over-identifies with his avocation, his artistic aspiration. He defines himself by it. He is a musician, a painter, a playwright. Resistance loves this. Resistance knows that the amateur composer will never write his symphony because he is overly invested in its success and overly terrified of its failure. The amateur takes it so seriously, it paralyzes him.”The more I can separate my identity from my work, the more open I am to both internal and external critique. This may seem like it runs counter to being fully present- you might think, “How can I be fully present, completely investing myself in my work and not have my identity wrapped up in it?”Actually the opposite can be true. The more focused energy I give the work, the less self-conscious I become. The work becomes it’s own identity. It’s simply my job to finish it and do the best work I can. Once the work is done, it’s someone else’s job to critique it. And while they’re critiquing it, I’m on to the next work.
- Push through the fear of failure – My best work comes from taking risks. I once heard Jon Brion say that on every record he produces, he tries to have at least one element that makes him uncomfortable. It’s usually in these elements the greatest potential for failure lives. But it’s also where ground is broken and richness is discovered.
- Be a learner – once you’ve pushed delete, don’t be afraid to look back and learn from the mistakes. Earlier this year my wife and I had a business deal go south. It was a very costly and painful experience. But I wouldn’t change any of it – I have no regrets. What we learned in the process was worth the thousands of dollars spent and all the hours lost. We are so much better equipped and wiser for the next deal that comes around.
Since that first fateful record, my process has always included time and space to step back and objectively look at the day’s work. For example, just a few month’s ago, my friend, singer-songwriter Jayson Belt and I, spent a day writing and tracking a sad love song for ABC Television.
The next day I listened down to the track. And I hated it. Everything about the basic feel and progression of the song was boring and unoriginal. But I liked the melody and lyrical content, and I liked Jayson’s vocal performance. So I deleted everything but the vocal and started programming a beat against it. This took the song in a completely different direction and opened up all kinds of new possibilities. Check it out:
Nowadays I not only embrace the delete button, I love the delete button. Sure, there are still moments where the temptation to settle – to say “good enough” – is strong. But when I stay in the right headspace, delete is the gateway to new and better possibilities.
Who knows…maybe tomorrow I’ll read this blog, push delete and start all over again.
Cindy Rethmeier says
I laughed out loud! I think I laughed because I felt like I was reading about myself. I’m grateful to be in the laugh out loud season, which grew out of the crying out loud season. Still, this reminder to take courage and delete is timely and helpful. And, I remember hearing It Only Hurts and loving it even though you thought I wouldn’t…great song. Glad you pressed delete.
Beloved Overlord says
Dude, that first version of the song is painful! Thank you oh Mighty Delete Button!!!!