no really, how do you do it?

if you're looking for immediate answers, look somewhere else. i'm no professional. i'm not corporate. i'm no bleach blonde-turned ravenette who sucks off music execs in turn for a contract or a chance to appear in a video dry-humping the hood of a maserati.

i'm just a chick with a mac, trying to raise the roof of mediocrity.

to me, mediocrity isn't necessarily bad. in fact, it's a good start. there are tens upon thousands upon millions of people on this earth, and a good portion of them are musicians. if i expected or even had the balls to claim i was one of the best of that astrological number, that would be preposterous and arrogant. i prefer to think rationally, however impulsive, right-brained, and manic i may be. save that top tier for mozart and buckley, billie and carole, god there's more but i don't have the time, plus it's subjective anyway so who gives a rat's ass who i think rules the musical kingdom. except mozart, yes. that man was a fucking genius and i WILL NOT sway in that argument.

anyway, mediocrity. it has such a sour taste on our tongues, better yet, bland and unflavorful. but considering that all music has tiers of good, bad and in-between, it's only necessary to appreciate the in-between as having the potential to be approachable and relatable. i want my mediocrity to taste homemade, sweet and personal, shitty in its own right. i want my songs to be like falling for the imperfections of someone, chipped teeth or two inches-too short. imperfections make something individually perfect. that's my definition of raising the roof.

i recorded my first album in 2007, based on a new year's resolution and an unreachable itch. it didn't actually start happening until i finally listened to the voice of reason and switched from pc to mac. the album has a ton of flaws, no arguing that, but for me it was the principle of writing, recording and producing it on my own that made it valuable. i never sold it to anyone, just gave it as gifts to people i thought would take the time to listen, as several of the twelve tracks were intensely personal. it was my profession of love since i was too chicken-shit to do it in person. i think it was better i did it in song, because contrary to the idealistic standard, i would've made a complete ass of myself had i done it in person and that just wasn't worth it to me.

but this next album will be different.

i purged the main organs of that previous body in my last album and am resolving to produce an album that is about my existance, not someone else's and the impact they had on me. it is pertinent i do this, in order to come closer and fully understand who it is i am and what i am trying to accomplish in my life. at the risk of sounding cliche, there's a source of therapy in recording music, but it is not comparable to other forms. after i produce a successful song (by my personal standards, obviously), it feels like a supernatural source stuck its fingers inside my soul and pulled leaches off. i am not a miserable person, but i do have my baggage like most (interesting) people. the therapy of recording an album is essentially trading a bowling bag for a light-weight disc or series of mpegs, layers of tracks on garageband, so on. who gets the bag, i do not know. hopefully they will find the treasure in it, as i strive to make gems out of them in my songs.

i will be updating this blog as often as i can, detailing my experience with producing ANOMIE, because this time i want to really do something with it, rather than pass it along as christmas gifts. i have a heartfelt, sincere appreciation for low-fidelity sound, homemade, recorded in the bedroom sort of music. shitty in its quality but a diamond in the rough. i know there are others out there who share my appreciation for this somewhat-secretive genre, and if they are budding musicians who want to also produce an album on their own, i hope that this blog will be approachable and relatable, as well as beautifully mediocre.