I am a Los Angeles-based twentysomething. I have a profession, and I have a secret life in music, and this blog isn't about any of that. I like Blogger because I can't read what you're thinking.
Monday, February 21
>>DRAFT 1 OF RADIOHEAD'S 'CREEP'
I want to document the changes this cover is going to go through, from weak inception, to strong finish.
Things to learn from this first draft:
1. I need to get another piano. My little upright Wurlitzer has been beaten. to. death. The poor thing has suffered 9 broken and repaired keys over the past 3 years, and that doesn't include the wear and tear and bi-yearly tunings from 18 years of nearly daily playing.
2. Keep novelty mugs out of the frame to avoid distracting your audience. I'm stupid.
3. The second verse is confused. Should it be an improvisation of the verse or the verse itself? If I do the latter, isn't it redundant?
4. Levels of cheese factor. The real goal is converting anyone who thinks it's initially cheesy into thinking it's a legitimate effort, which it really is.
5. Search engine optimization may not work for YouTube. In light of interest to Radiohead's new LP, I recorded and released this video this weekend to see how it would affect traffic. It didn't. WOMP-WOMP.
6. I'm becoming formulaic. I need to break out of old habits. Doing stride covers of pop songs is my auto-tune.
7. This is how all ideas, good and bad, start. This one's really the central reason to the release of this video; it's D-grade execution. Lots of shitty runs, lots of "I'm really guessing here" action on the right hand, lots of mistakes, and lots of uncharted territory. But this is a reality I wish I was exposed to early on. I used to think that people's great art was quickly developed because, well, because they were freakishly talented. In recent years I've learned that, yes, some artists are freakishly talented, but most artists are just good and consistent in refining an initial idea. They think of something and work really hard on it, sometimes for a few hours, or for several years. But the journey is always the same: recognize the good parts, sift out the bad parts, and hope that your judgments are equal to those of your audience.
8. It never ends. I'm sure this cover will come to a point where I can't do anything else with it. And once I do think I've come to this point, I'll start trying to find any reason to keep the cover alive for interpretation. That's pretty messed up, and I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate this aspect of interpretation. I don't use the word "hate" loosely.