The Story Of Stupid World:
This is it! I finally finished my record! I’m sorry, to the point of embarrassment, that it took so long to get this to you. I could tell you that the reason for the delay is artistic perfectionism, that the standards I set for myself, with regard to this recording, were so high it was impossible to finish sooner. I could tell you that, and there would be a measure of truth in it, but such an assertion is only part of a very convoluted story. Wow, that’s a pretty pretentious statement, isn’t it? It makes me sound really conceited. Hmmmm….I guess blaming my “high standards” is where I misstepped. I think what I mean to say is that fear of my own incompetence caused me to second guess myself at every turn, which slowed things down considerably. Yeah, that’s what I mean. In this case, high standards = fear of sucking. Does that make sense? Personal insecurities definitely did impede my progress (and they became even more intense after I decided to play all the instruments myself) but as I said, there is much more to the story.
The original plan for this record was to enlist the aid of my favorite musician friends. I would show my songs to all the incredibly talented people I know. Then they, of course, would drop everything they were doing to help me realize my vision. Seemed simple enough. I’d contact all those awesome music players, sound engineers, and record producers. I’d dazzle them with my songwriting skills and sublime vocal stylings, and they’d be so overcome by art that they’d trample one another for the opportunity to play even a minuscule part in bringing my concept to fruition. And in the beginning it seemed like this plan might actually work. I met, exchanged emails, talked on the phone, rehearsed, and even recorded with some of my favorite music people. But as things progressed, I began to realize that conflicting schedules, and varying degrees of enthusiasm made my strategy a much dicier proposition than I had originally envisioned. It turns out that musicians have their own bands that sometimes go on tours, and recording studios have other clients who aren’t me, who would also like to use their equipment. Who knew? So when I did get some recording done, it was under such duress and time pressure the results weren’t at all what I envisioned for the record. The recordings seemed rushed and kinda jury-rigged, and did everyone involved a disservice. That’s why Ladders Made Of Smoke is the only song on the record on which I didn’t play all the instruments myself. That one felt right pretty much immediately.
So, after months and months of trying unsuccessfully to cobble the record together, I became pretty discouraged and disillusioned (not to mention more than a little nervous that all you kickstarter contributors might begin to lose patience with me). I began to wonder how I could possibly get it done, and fulfill my obligation. I’d already wasted a lot of time, and since time equals money I was running out of that too. That’s when I began to wonder if maybe I could do the whole record by myself, on my Mac, in my bedroom. It seemed almost feasible, and a reasonable solution to my dilemma. That sounds bad, doesn’t it? I don’t want you to think that the idea was merely the product of desperation and necessity. It wasn’t. I’ve wanted to make a record like this for years, a record that was 100% my voice. Collaboration inevitably, and necessarily leads to creative compromise (Am I sounding pretentious again?), which can definitely be a very good thing when you’re working with people you respect. I’ve always welcomed the input of talented people, and my past efforts have definitely benefitted from the contributions of others. But I’ve always wondered what a record would sound like if I did it all myself, with my singular creative input. (I’m talking about bucket list shit here, people.) Since the lack of other options was pushing the prospect of DIY-ing this bitch nearer and nearer to the top of ever shortening possible solutions list, I started to seriously consider the idea. I thought, “I’m a reasonable guitar/bass/piano player, and I like to write parts for all those instruments. Plus I started out as a drummer, and I wasn’t half bad. Plus I don’t know what else to do. So why not give it a try?” But I also thought, “Why not give it a try?! Am I kidding?! Here’s why not! Because my guitar is a $250 Mexican Telecaster. I don’t own a bass, and my drum set is ridiculously incomplete, (I’d been using the kick drum for a coffee table for the past 15 years.) Plus, my computer refuses to load my preferred software, so I’m gonna have to record it with Garageband!!” (That’s right, this record was recorded entirely in Garageband.) I was extremely conflicted about what to do, but I REALLY wanted to try it. I just needed a push. So I called my friend Mary Fridmann, and she pushed me. I said something like, “I don’t like what’s happening with my record, and I’m never gonna be able to finish it this way. I wanna start over, and record it myself, in my bedroom with my shitty equipment.” And she replied, “Do it!” Dave Fridmann enthusiastically concurred. So that’s what I did. (Thanks guys!!) And once I started recording, I found that everything sounded pretty ok. I was liking the recordings. They weren’t sonically stellar, by any means, but they sounded like me. For better or worse, they sounded like what I heard in my head……..except the drums, which sounded like shit. They were paper thin, and the kick drum was inaudible, which was very vexing. In an effort to fix the problem, I read article after article on recording drums, and asked all the smartest recording people I know, what to do. I got answers about microphone types, microphone placement, increasing such and such DB, decreasing such and such, yada yada yada. All very well intentioned turd polishing advice, but ultimately not very helpful. Then I talked to my pal Stephen Egerton. He said, “These sound like garbage. You’re not gonna be happy. Send me the wave files, and I’ll fix ‘em.” And that’s exactly what he did. I love that guy. He repaired my drum sounds and saved the whole record! I owe him big! Then Dave, and Mike Fridmann mastered it for me (and gave me free beer!). What a lucky guy I am!
Anyway, I’m sure some of you are saying to yourselves, “This all makes sense Scott, and I can see how it would slow things down. But c’mon! We’re talking two years here!” That’s a fair point, but there’s still more to the story. During all this retooling and rerecording, my family hit a pretty tough spot. Starting about a year and half ago, I found myself dealing with circumstances I could never have imagined I’d have to confront; really sad, and ugly shit that occupied an enormous chunk of my time, and sent me into an incredibly thick black funk. Sorry to be so cryptic, but it’s pretty personal stuff. Suffice it to say that I was crippled for a while. I don’t know how many of you have ever dealt with serious depression, but it’s a bitch. It pretty much ruins everything. I was wrecked. I couldn’t make my mind function properly, nor my body. So I couldn’t think or act productively. It was actually really scary, and it lasted for what seemed like forever. But then something happened. I noticed that my loss of appetite, and lack of sleep had caused me to lose weight! I wasn’t nearly as chubby anymore. I’ve been wanting to lose weight for years. So I latched onto that, embraced it, and began to cheer up. I have to say that I’d always considered myself a relatively complex person, somewhat of a deep thinker, soulful even; repelled, even repulsed by the superficial, and aggravated to tears by the trivial concerns and misplaced priorities of my fellow humans. (Told you I was pretentious.) So I was sure that my eventual liberation from despair’s gloomy basement would be the direct result of an intense intellectual realization, or maybe even some kind of amazing quasi-spiritual epiphany, something along those lines. To that end, I looked inward for purpose, and motivation. Yeah, I spent a lot of time searching my soul for salvation, but that wasn’t where I needed to be looking. Turns out, all I needed was a mirror. I’m ashamed to admit that vanity was my savior! I lost a couple pounds of belly fat, and life became worth living again. What a sad reason to be happy. I’m so ashamed. But hey, grab sunshine where you can get it, right? Some of you might be concerned by this rebirth; that maybe I’m not so surly and anti-social anymore. You needn’t be. I promise I’m still a grump. I’m just a functional grump now. Dare I say a marginally productive grump? Well, lets not get carried away, but I did finish the record, and I’m pretty damned happy with it.
So this is the part where I thank you all. The Kickstarter money made this possible. Because of your contributions, I was able to utterly fail in my first attempts at making my record, then start all over again. I was able to lock myself away, and rebuild the entire recording from the ground up, part by part. I was able to fall into despair, come out the other side, and finish this project. I was able to do all this, and still pay my rent and buy groceries. Without you guys, this record wouldn’t have happened, and I’ll be forever grateful!! Thank you so much for your support and patience!!
Well, I guess that’s all I wanted to tell you. Thanks for taking the time to read this. I hope you like the record!! It’s 100% Scott Reynolds, top to bottom. My voice, my thoughts, my playing, my everything. For better or worse, this recording is me. You get what you pay for, I guess!!
Love, Scott!
The original plan for this record was to enlist the aid of my favorite musician friends. I would show my songs to all the incredibly talented people I know. Then they, of course, would drop everything they were doing to help me realize my vision. Seemed simple enough. I’d contact all those awesome music players, sound engineers, and record producers. I’d dazzle them with my songwriting skills and sublime vocal stylings, and they’d be so overcome by art that they’d trample one another for the opportunity to play even a minuscule part in bringing my concept to fruition. And in the beginning it seemed like this plan might actually work. I met, exchanged emails, talked on the phone, rehearsed, and even recorded with some of my favorite music people. But as things progressed, I began to realize that conflicting schedules, and varying degrees of enthusiasm made my strategy a much dicier proposition than I had originally envisioned. It turns out that musicians have their own bands that sometimes go on tours, and recording studios have other clients who aren’t me, who would also like to use their equipment. Who knew? So when I did get some recording done, it was under such duress and time pressure the results weren’t at all what I envisioned for the record. The recordings seemed rushed and kinda jury-rigged, and did everyone involved a disservice. That’s why Ladders Made Of Smoke is the only song on the record on which I didn’t play all the instruments myself. That one felt right pretty much immediately.
So, after months and months of trying unsuccessfully to cobble the record together, I became pretty discouraged and disillusioned (not to mention more than a little nervous that all you kickstarter contributors might begin to lose patience with me). I began to wonder how I could possibly get it done, and fulfill my obligation. I’d already wasted a lot of time, and since time equals money I was running out of that too. That’s when I began to wonder if maybe I could do the whole record by myself, on my Mac, in my bedroom. It seemed almost feasible, and a reasonable solution to my dilemma. That sounds bad, doesn’t it? I don’t want you to think that the idea was merely the product of desperation and necessity. It wasn’t. I’ve wanted to make a record like this for years, a record that was 100% my voice. Collaboration inevitably, and necessarily leads to creative compromise (Am I sounding pretentious again?), which can definitely be a very good thing when you’re working with people you respect. I’ve always welcomed the input of talented people, and my past efforts have definitely benefitted from the contributions of others. But I’ve always wondered what a record would sound like if I did it all myself, with my singular creative input. (I’m talking about bucket list shit here, people.) Since the lack of other options was pushing the prospect of DIY-ing this bitch nearer and nearer to the top of ever shortening possible solutions list, I started to seriously consider the idea. I thought, “I’m a reasonable guitar/bass/piano player, and I like to write parts for all those instruments. Plus I started out as a drummer, and I wasn’t half bad. Plus I don’t know what else to do. So why not give it a try?” But I also thought, “Why not give it a try?! Am I kidding?! Here’s why not! Because my guitar is a $250 Mexican Telecaster. I don’t own a bass, and my drum set is ridiculously incomplete, (I’d been using the kick drum for a coffee table for the past 15 years.) Plus, my computer refuses to load my preferred software, so I’m gonna have to record it with Garageband!!” (That’s right, this record was recorded entirely in Garageband.) I was extremely conflicted about what to do, but I REALLY wanted to try it. I just needed a push. So I called my friend Mary Fridmann, and she pushed me. I said something like, “I don’t like what’s happening with my record, and I’m never gonna be able to finish it this way. I wanna start over, and record it myself, in my bedroom with my shitty equipment.” And she replied, “Do it!” Dave Fridmann enthusiastically concurred. So that’s what I did. (Thanks guys!!) And once I started recording, I found that everything sounded pretty ok. I was liking the recordings. They weren’t sonically stellar, by any means, but they sounded like me. For better or worse, they sounded like what I heard in my head……..except the drums, which sounded like shit. They were paper thin, and the kick drum was inaudible, which was very vexing. In an effort to fix the problem, I read article after article on recording drums, and asked all the smartest recording people I know, what to do. I got answers about microphone types, microphone placement, increasing such and such DB, decreasing such and such, yada yada yada. All very well intentioned turd polishing advice, but ultimately not very helpful. Then I talked to my pal Stephen Egerton. He said, “These sound like garbage. You’re not gonna be happy. Send me the wave files, and I’ll fix ‘em.” And that’s exactly what he did. I love that guy. He repaired my drum sounds and saved the whole record! I owe him big! Then Dave, and Mike Fridmann mastered it for me (and gave me free beer!). What a lucky guy I am!
Anyway, I’m sure some of you are saying to yourselves, “This all makes sense Scott, and I can see how it would slow things down. But c’mon! We’re talking two years here!” That’s a fair point, but there’s still more to the story. During all this retooling and rerecording, my family hit a pretty tough spot. Starting about a year and half ago, I found myself dealing with circumstances I could never have imagined I’d have to confront; really sad, and ugly shit that occupied an enormous chunk of my time, and sent me into an incredibly thick black funk. Sorry to be so cryptic, but it’s pretty personal stuff. Suffice it to say that I was crippled for a while. I don’t know how many of you have ever dealt with serious depression, but it’s a bitch. It pretty much ruins everything. I was wrecked. I couldn’t make my mind function properly, nor my body. So I couldn’t think or act productively. It was actually really scary, and it lasted for what seemed like forever. But then something happened. I noticed that my loss of appetite, and lack of sleep had caused me to lose weight! I wasn’t nearly as chubby anymore. I’ve been wanting to lose weight for years. So I latched onto that, embraced it, and began to cheer up. I have to say that I’d always considered myself a relatively complex person, somewhat of a deep thinker, soulful even; repelled, even repulsed by the superficial, and aggravated to tears by the trivial concerns and misplaced priorities of my fellow humans. (Told you I was pretentious.) So I was sure that my eventual liberation from despair’s gloomy basement would be the direct result of an intense intellectual realization, or maybe even some kind of amazing quasi-spiritual epiphany, something along those lines. To that end, I looked inward for purpose, and motivation. Yeah, I spent a lot of time searching my soul for salvation, but that wasn’t where I needed to be looking. Turns out, all I needed was a mirror. I’m ashamed to admit that vanity was my savior! I lost a couple pounds of belly fat, and life became worth living again. What a sad reason to be happy. I’m so ashamed. But hey, grab sunshine where you can get it, right? Some of you might be concerned by this rebirth; that maybe I’m not so surly and anti-social anymore. You needn’t be. I promise I’m still a grump. I’m just a functional grump now. Dare I say a marginally productive grump? Well, lets not get carried away, but I did finish the record, and I’m pretty damned happy with it.
So this is the part where I thank you all. The Kickstarter money made this possible. Because of your contributions, I was able to utterly fail in my first attempts at making my record, then start all over again. I was able to lock myself away, and rebuild the entire recording from the ground up, part by part. I was able to fall into despair, come out the other side, and finish this project. I was able to do all this, and still pay my rent and buy groceries. Without you guys, this record wouldn’t have happened, and I’ll be forever grateful!! Thank you so much for your support and patience!!
Well, I guess that’s all I wanted to tell you. Thanks for taking the time to read this. I hope you like the record!! It’s 100% Scott Reynolds, top to bottom. My voice, my thoughts, my playing, my everything. For better or worse, this recording is me. You get what you pay for, I guess!!
Love, Scott!