PB001 - What the hell am I doing here?

Listen while you read

A song I released at the end of last year, that speaks to the Slowing Down section of this email. It’s on Bandcamp, or Spotify if you’re reading in email - embedded if you click read online.

What’s this all about?

This is my very first email, so let me attempt to explain why I’m doing it.

I recently found myself logged into the Meta Business Suite—Facebook’s tool for making adverts—trying to define my target audience in terms of a/s/l and other interests, and thought: What the fuck am I doing?

Over the past few years, I’ve spent an increasing amount of time, energy, and money on making music. In my mind, this process has become increasingly entangled with thoughts and worries about how to get people to listen to my music—to justify all the time, energy, and money I’ve invested in it. Over time, I’ve been drawn closer and closer to a whole network of things I would otherwise steer well clear of: ads, services, platforms, and the Meta Business Suite. It’s certainly not why I started making music. This mailing list is an attempt to tell people about my music in a way that feels better to me—but also to write about all the weird and unpleasant things going on behind the scenes of the proliferation of independent music production.

Getting myself [and you] off Instagram.

I try hard [to varying levels of success] not to be snobbish or preachy about how people spend their time, but I think we all know that being on social media increasingly tips, on balance, into making us feel bad. Since the introduction of algorithmic feeds, for every moment it introduces us to new art and events, keeps us informed of global news or distant friends and family, or even makes us laugh, it is equally—if not more—simply feeding a dopamine addiction.

Speaking personally at least, I regularly find myself almost unable to stop scrolling. As in: my curiosity for what’s next on the feed overpowers my clear and vocalised intent to stop. I will quite literally say in my head that I will move to the next thing and then close the window, before scrolling through enough things to make the last proclamation of intent to leave so far in the past as to be irrelevant. I then continue scrolling until my sense of dread builds enough to initiate a fresh dash for freedom. And I don’t I even use it that much.

In the future, I’ll write in more detail about the specific ways that Instagram interacts with music-making, distribution and promotion… but for now… needles to say I’ve come to realise I do not feel good about adding to the pile of unsolicited stuff used to keep us scrolling.

Slowing down…

Length is a very important aspect of any form—but it’s also a matter of taste. I’ve always enjoyed stories that are, by necessity, told over many books. Some people don’t get the same satisfaction from that as they might from just reading, say, five totally different books.

In longer forms, moments can be created whose power draws on everything that came before them in a way that’s not possible in shorter forms that drop you straight in. Long forms can build tension in the audience and artfully release it, whereas short form relies on other, more immediate, types of impact. Long forms can introduce many ideas separately and then create impact by bringing them all together. They also get to explore variations of the main ideas. Most importantly for me—particularly in the context of music—long forms give you enough time inside the art to forget the beginning, your entry, and your pre-song self. You can be more fully immersed in the music.

I can also see why people might prefer to engage with something that’s at its peak from the off, then move on to the next thing. But my music is likely not for them. If there are people out there who will love Personal Best, I won’t be able to sell it to them in an Instagram reel. I haven’t written any earworms that will ensnare you in a three-second burst, so instead, I need to tempt people into taking in the whole song—and hope they’re drawn closer by its gentle meanderings.

Put differently: my music is not very catchy, so there’s no point trying to compete with people’s timelines.

Telling a Story

One thing social media is really good for is telling the story around music. What are the artists like? What’s the song about? How did they make that sound? But I don’t have hours of footage of me recording, nor a process that lends itself to live performance, nor even a phone that can record decent video. I do, however, have a near-constant, philosophy-imbued narration of why I’m making certain decisions, using certain bits of equipment, or learning certain techniques.

Maybe this will be interesting to people, in giving a glimpse of all the thoughts and processes feeding into music production—not just mine.

Getting Personal

I miss the time when music was shared more. I love the internet—I would never want to forego the access I have to the world’s knowledge and culture. But I don’t want to commune with it directly. In a previous iteration of the internet—not that long ago—I relied on my trust in other people’s tastes, and their understanding of me, to help me sift through the sea of art and information. This sharing was a form of communication in itself, and in turn built those relationships further.

I believe strongly that the introduction of algorithmic suggestions to all the platforms we use has fundamentally changed this dynamic for the worse. We may well get suggested more music that’s closer to our personal preferences—but the songs mean less to us because they’re not entangled with feelings for the person who brought them to us. And—worse—the song is no longer doing the work of bringing us closer to its would-be recommender; it’s not giving us something to bond over or reminding us of them in their absence. Nor are our own musical discoveries leading us to reach out to people whose image it stirs in us, or bringing us closer to them.

So these emails may be a way to prompt myself to share more—and encourage others to share with me, and with anyone else.

What I’m Up To

I have two songs that have been basically finished for a few months now, but my friend Jon McGovern keeps sending me extra drum and horn parts for one of them, so I’ve been wrestling with how much more to add in. Maybe I’ll end up with two versions. Another friend, Ray, has done a dub/house remix of the same song, which I’ve been mastering. I also have two more songs where I’ve just about finished the structure, and now need to go back and add some more layers. These two are the most obviously jazz of anything I’ve made so far—which I’m excited about. Lastly, I’ve been working on titles and artwork that will tie all these songs together. Despite everything I wrote above: some clips below.

Please Share 🙏 [if you want to]

As explained above, I want my music - and now writing - to get to the people who will actually like it. So if there is someone you know who you think will enjoy it, please pass it on.


Speak Soon,

PB x