I keep thinking about this idea that there’s a “proper” way of being a business person, and perversely I find myself exploring what it is to wear that outfit sometimes, and…I enjoy it.

I’ve just about come to terms with the fact that I’m a scruffy, soft, creative person, at the core. I’d mostly always embraced that, but my flirting with ‘big business’, and actually thinking back to when I did some work experience where you had to wear suits, had me operating more in that mould and therefore adopting more of the traits associated with the corporate world.

A lot of the time, and certainly how it’s presented to us in the West as we go through school, the idea of being an elite, or having success, is arguably to work in a big building, to wear a suit, to drive a shiny car and to play golf and holiday in luxury destinations. To operate well in that space, you’re short, sharp, controlled. You assert authority and understand your place in the order of things.

Curiously, whilst I’ve found this to be mostly the case, there are some quite brilliant exceptions where scruffy, soft creatives have done extraordinary things, yet you may likely miss it.

It’s enjoyable when these two types of people meet, as well - typically one has arrived in the room via following very structured pathways, and the other from ignoring them entirely.

Anyways.

Despite discovering that corporate life is not for me, I can happily admit that I like to borrow from that culture on occasion, purely for fun. Why? Well because I realised that I like wearing outfits as a means of motivating myself to do things. That is, to imagine I am a thing, in order to act like it. (I should imagine we all do that - you’ll have to check with a psychologist). So in terms of ‘businessman’, there are days where I like to embody a bit of that.

I’ll wear something simple and discrete, and go and work somewhere corporate-feeling. WeWorks and co-working spaces are great for this. I’ll be doing my usual sound-related work - but I’ll approach it with a little more focus. Having everyone around me tap-tapping away has me tackling those more mundane admin tasks with a little more focus and intensity (look up body doubling and co-working as an act of focus driving).

I like going up and down to the coffee machine, buzzing in and out of different floors with my ID card to use the loos and hopping out at lunch to a high street sandwich chain.

I don’t know what it is, but the sense of being a worker-bee once in a while is a refreshing break from sitting on my own in a creative space. I guess I came through a school system which was the training ground for this world, so it’s engrained in me to some extent to get some comfort from working this way (note: I really liked most of my school experience, for which I’m lucky).

I’ve also come to learn that there of course is no “proper” way to be a business person, and that in reality the diversity of people doing business is huge - it just looks like…being a person.

With all this I guess it’s dawning on me that actually business is something I’m really passionate about, and spend a lot of time doing and learning about. And because a lot of the more formal and traditional sources of information about business come from the more structured/corporate world, I think it can tickle the imposter syndrome in me, and in part me wearing that outfit some days is an attempt to see how I fit in.

What’s cool now though is there’s so many more sources of business education, coming from much less corporate people, and so it’ll be interesting to see how that impacts things over time. Is there a future where we see “suits” less as the major “business person” archetype?

I doubt it, but whilst that serves - for me at least - as an extreme outfit, I’ll continue to have fun trying it on occasionally, especially if it helps me get these damn emails done.

TTFN,

Will

Business is good. I’m happy. It feels…nice?

I went to NAMM - the annual “go-to” convention for music gear - a few weeks back and I’d noticed that I’m still as enthusiastic about our space as ever. More so, perhaps - I’ve spent so much of my life in it, and there are such meaningful friendships and experiences woven into everything, I suspect the longer I’m in it, the more it’ll form part of what makes me me. The main take-home this time around was feeling that there are broadly two existences we can have as businesses/employees selling audio products. There’s working with/inside the juggernauts - conglomerates that have large-scale impact but move real slow. And there’s the small bands of makers, who are dynamic and agile, but are subject to choppy waters and uncertainty. Each of us, typically, has a foundational love for music and audio - that’s why we’re there - and we each have our own questions about how to navigate the future. The good news, I think, is that whilst we’re evidently in a challenging economic period, there are A LOT of customers out there who love making music, and so long as you’re not greedy about your piece of the pie, there should be plenty for everyone.

I keep hearing/reading about an inevitable doom that’s likely to sweep across the industry as AI takes hold. I think people trying to build mass audiences around their products are the most worried about that, and most of us shouldn’t be concerned. The act of making music has continued to be unnecessarily and enjoyably complex, for the most part, and I think that’s because there’s such great joy to be had in the effort and consideration involved. Like with anything that isn’t just entirely convenient. Why do people cook their own food, or wash their cars by hand, or build Lego, or plant and maintain gardens? Because it’s something satisfying to do, and we tend to do much better when we’re doing vs just consuming.

Anyways.

Song Athletics is plodding along merrily. We saw an uptick in sales this past Winter - a combination I think of the general awareness of us growing, having more catalogue for people to explore and enjoy, plus - and most impactfully - the release of a few Kontakt libraries that seem to have connected at a different level. We’ve had some amazing artists, producers and composers buy our stuff, and I imagine that word is very slowly beginning to spread, and all of this points to a simple strategy: to just continue as we go. A handful of new, bigger products each year (plugins and virtual instruments), plus some sample packs sprinkled around those (they don’t do big numbers but they’re a lot of fun to use/make). None of it is enough to employ someone full-time, but it’s beginning to profit and so I can reinvest that back into making more stuff and then maybe one day it’ll perform at a level that gives options about leaning into it even more. We’ll see. I kinda love how it is already, so cautious to rock the boat…

Around making and selling products, I’m still doing a mixture of consulting/coaching and work with partner companies. This is both highly satisfying - most of it is music/sound related and with brilliant people - and helps pay the bills. There are five of us to take care of, plus a new dog (Mabel, our beloved, passed away last Summer) and it gets expensive FAST. I’ve definitely evolved my relationship with money as I’ve stepped away from company-life, but that’s a different conversation.

Some other random things on my mind:

• I seem to always come back from Christmas/New Year break concerned with promoting myself more online, and then swiftly arrive at the realisation that I just don’t like the talking-to-camera thing. I’m much happier writing or having real conversations with people, so I think I’ll stick with that. I just hope I remember for next time…

• I had a breakthrough regarding making-music, something I’ve done since I was a kid but always felt awkward about when I’m so busy working with other artists or selling sound toys. I think the reality is I just don’t have the capacity or interest to go all-in on making a record. I like the idea of it, and everything involved in it, but I naturally gravitate towards building businesses. So I’ve started to equate that as being ‘what I’m here to make’ - sure, music and sound is a big part of what I do, and I’ll always be mucking around in the studio, but I’ve let go of having to capture those explorations and output them in any meaningful way; my focus is to create the space for these products and people to get seen/heard, and that’s something I do without thinking, all day long. Ironically, and what often tends to happen after conclusions like this, I’ve probably spent more time enjoying music and equipment than ever. Just noodling for the sake of it, before getting back to building these businesses. That’s been wonderful.

Oh and a word on products and stuff we’re making:

• It was great to share our first loudspeaker with the world: ‘Mono’. I love sounds and software but there’s something so compelling about producing a physical thing. I need to do a little more to shout about it as I hope this is just the beginning of its journey, but I’m so chuffed to have broken my own rules about having a very narrow scope for what we do Song Athletics; some of these itches are important to scratch, whether for the sheer creative indulgence or the potential opportunities they create. I consider it very much the R&D wing in full-effect. And as if that wasn’t enough, we’re currently mucking around with some nearfield studio monitors. YUP.

• Continuing along the hardware thread, ORB, our standalone rompler box (ie virtual instruments stored in a device that you can play without using a computer), is coming along marvellously. The on-board instruments sound GREAT, we’ve updated it so that you can put your own samples on a USB drive and plug’n’play them, and we’re thinking about final iterations of the case + packaging, so that we can eventually start to sell them.

• As above, sample packs are more of a fun thing, but I do recognise the value of capturing exceptional sounds and then having the option of being able to integrate them into other products. So we’ll continue to do them - likely with a focus on drums and weird stuff that people don’t have much access to - but I’m going to allow more bandwidth for virtual instruments and plugins…

• Which on that note we’re working on both, including a much “bigger” plugin that I’ve had in my head for years. Pretty excited about that and it’ll pull together a lot of what I’m interested in in sampling and synthesis so stay tuned…

~~~

Well, that was a satisfying unloading of information, and quite enough for now.

Until next time,

Will

That’s that!

Thanks for reading ☺️

I’ve only known a life in mono - no sense of direction of sound, a terrible guest at dinner parties if you happen to be sat on my right, and a relative door-closed to the entire world of stereophonic audio and Hi-Fi.

Now, over the years, I’ve really tried to make the most of things. I studied Spatial Audio in great depth (here), despite not being able to experience it, and I gained the confidence to produce studio sessions and work on audio at a decent enough level, even though I was only focusing on one channel. And I guess I am, by all accounts, a successful music/audio professional, and that’s pretty cool - my hearing obviously wasn’t too much of an issue.

Yet, the truth is, I’ve still always felt like I was missing something, and that I’m an imposter. I think really I wanted to be a record producer or engineer and that my lack of hearing would mean I could never become ‘great’. Similarly with audio and Hi-Fi, I knew a lot, but not being able to actually hear it has always left any sense of my authority feeling undermined.

So, imagine my absolute joy, and the ultimate life-changing impact, of acknowledging something very simple that would alter my view on the items above.

It started off with tape - I’d been watching a documentary on RTM, the analogue tape machine specialists and was scouting about looking at machines for sale, as you do. I came across a fine example and noted it had a mono tape head. That got me thinking, “hmm, when did those start to become defunct - I predominantly see stereo/multitrack machines.”

And all of a sudden this small query brought together a host of concepts I’d always known but never quite acknowledged in this way…

Stick with me. It goes like this:

• actually, mono recordings were prevalent for some time - well into the 60s in some cases (‘66/’67 is deemed to be the point at which stereo vinyl became the mainstream choice)

• some of my absolute favourite records were originally mono: most of the Beatles, early Stones, Pink Floyd, some of my favourite jazz (one of which - Giant Steps by John Coltrane - that I’d been hammering recently), Pet Sounds!!

• these weren’t just alternative versions, the records had been crafted entirely from a mono perspective. Mastered to one single channel. Any stereo versions were done after-the-fact, a bit like Atmos versions of stuff now.

• so back then, ‘the greats’ involved in these records would have only required one ear in order to achieve the same results

• therefore, I’ve actually got the tools, at least, to get to that standard! No excuses here, sonny!

• equally from a listening perspective, I can enjoy these records absolutely as intended! I’m not missing anything…

These may all seem like simple points, but for me, it’s blown my mind. There’s a world of audio - albeit slightly limited to the mid/late 60s - which I can use as a reference. And it’s a pretty impressive reference.

So despite very few people being interested in mono now, commercially, I can at least for my own enjoyment challenge myself more to push my recording/mixing techniques without feeling like “what’s the point beyond here - I’ll only hand it over to someone with two ears finesse”.

And I’ve got a new avenue to REALLY indulge when it comes to Hi-Fi. Mono pressings, mono styluses, mono speaker set ups. There’s no stopping me now!!!

What’s fun too is that plenty of accomplished two-ear folks I fraternise with hold mono in quite high esteem anyway; the idea that a great mono mix is most of the way there to a great stereo mix. So without pandering to the over-compensated, I’ll enjoy knowing that if I can make something brilliant in mono, it should be able to stand up more generally.

I’m not really one for setting goals and ambitions nowadays - more happy to go with the flow - but I’m definitely going to allow this revelation to drive some further curiosity. I’m going through the flagship course we teach at Mastering.com - The Reverse Engineer - and am excited to get into the nitty gritty of ear training etc knowing now that it’s not wasted energy.

I’ll keep y’all posted on my journey, and maybe share a mono mix or two…

Bye! (🔊Centre-panned)

(via User:je245 on Steve Hoffman forum)

I think I’m getting better at recognising it, now. I’ve spent the last few weeks riding a wave of deep curiousity - I don’t know what stimulates it but as I’m walking around between home and the studio, I go down these mental rabbit holes considering the infinite possibilities of things I could/should explore. Here’s a sense of this batch:

• starting an sound/tech incubator

• launching a brand that positions the earth as an icon in its own right; such that consumers are directly funding planet-positive initiatives based on their innate want to be included/expressive of themselves

• having an intake of artists who I coach mentor for a year at a time

• building an alternative to Spotify/Bandcamp

• building a new DAW

• starting a publishing company

There’s a load more and I’m already tired.

The good news is, I came back down to earth with a thump, arriving at the same place I always do: to focus on sound/business. Which is ultimately what I’m already doing and have always done!

I think this may all be a consequence of how I approach work or my practise of doing stuff - I always create systems that make what I do regular and consistent. I know this leads to good results, but as a mostly creative person, these systems are at odds with the natural urges to explore/meander/contemplate etc. So, I think I get these mini blow-outs, where all my pent-up creativity gets released in a week-long brain spew.

Sometimes these moments are quite revealing - pointing to recurring themes and feelings that I try to slowly address in my sound work. For example, back when I was the Spitfire CEO, the company had become big enough and profitable enough to invest time and money in projects with a broader impact: in people, the planet and so on. This allowed me/us to spend some times on problems much bigger than how to sell more sounds, and to use our success to do broader “good”. Im back into build-mode right now, both with Mastering.com and Song Athletics, and so I guess there’s a bit of an itch wanting to be scratched outside of audio. But what I know, having felt this a few times now, is that there’ll be a time and place in future that allows for this to happen again - for now, I’ve resigned to at least reading and listening a little more about the work being done in the areas of people, society, and the environment. It’s fun to just have some calls and dinners with people in these world’s to at least keep abreast.

I’m feeling calm and content again now. And reinvigorated on my forever quest of - simply put - celebrating sound and recording. With Mastering.com we’re building the go-to online audio school, harnessing the power of great mentorship. And with Song Athletics we’re making sounds and telling stories about people in the sound world. It’s cool'; I’m a very lucky person.

I’ll no doubt become distracted again and again in the future, but at least I’ll have called myself out here once or twice.

Stay focused!

Will

For context, I came up in the music industry via indie labels and academia, and have always felt a strong connection with the more “rootsy”/DIY-type approaches that you’d find in companies like Beggars, Warp Records, Patagonia and so-on. There’s something about passionate individuals forming collectives around their interests - and business coming as a necessary, but sometimes really successful secondary - that I’ve admired greatly and realised is the path I naturally veer towards.

I eventually worked with three companies: Believe, Focusrite and Spitfire Audio. All of these grew fast, which was really exciting to be part of, and as part of that experience I learned a lot about the contrast between small-scale creative outfits, and larger-scale companies. I also got to experience how these types of growing companies attract outside interest, and how the coming together of boutiques and big capital create a tension that I continue to find fascinating.

I continue to reflect on it, but here’s my latest musings on that tension and how it relates to the music gear space.

*A R̶A̶N̶T̶ THOUGHT* 💭

It’s a few weeks since I shared that Suno CEO video which garnered a lot of attention.

With that, and reflections on this year’s NAMM, I’ve made a bit of progress on where I think we’re at.

Music gear and related software is a niche.

Making things for passionate people who enjoy the process of making music is mostly about building tools and toys that facilitate and inspire. It’s a small network, serving a small community (relative to a mass consumer market).

Over time some of our companies have scaled to become pretty impressive by global business standards in their own right - turnovers towards or above £100m.

That’s led to an influx of investor capital and hopeful outside opportunists: “It’s not just a niche, there’s an opportunity for more here; to break through into mass consumerism?”

And this, I think, is the rub - it’s still a niche.

Delivering a solution for a mass audience, one that would command a unicorn valuation, is a big tech-disruptor problem. Different types of people, systems and foundations seem to lead to those kind of companies.

Musicians serving others, whilst enjoying the process, I think places a natural limit on how far our type of companies can go.

And that’s why we do it? That’s what makes it a community. Special, small, interesting.

I throw no shade on the big tech approach, and am actually really fascinated/enamoured by it, but I’m not sure how much we should expect to morph one approach into another. They’re very different.

Which is why Suno - like Spotify and Apple in the music space, may just succeed. Because they’re less concerned at the core with the community, because they’re thinking at another level altogether.

I’m so proud to be part of this gear/software space and the longer I’ve been involved, the more I love it for what it is, and I think, in some way, shape or form, it’ll always exist to serve our own, irrespective of the bigger plays happening around us.

—

This all comes as a result of a recent rush of investment, consolidation and acquisitions in our industry, alongside heavy investment in outsider tech whiz-kids with promises to create the “Instagram for Music”, some of whom have little interest in or reverence for the work of the industry they’re intending to build upon. I’m not against any of that per-se, and I get that’s how disruption/innovation can happen, I just LOVE the energy and spirit encapsulated by the diverse array of smaller companies that make up our space and lament when their individual or collective fabric becomes impacted negatively by the moves of disengaged bodies looking for big returns…

Perhaps this is the natural way of things and I’m just speaking my mind as I experience it, but I’d like to hope there are sustainable pathways for great businesses to do their thing, slowly and successfully…

Will

• I filmed a video walking through our RUINER product and it got more views than some of the other recent videos. I’ll keep doing these when I can…Was easier and less daunting than I expected.

• I’ve realised that the days of posting on Instagram for the sake of a pretty feed are over. It doesn’t seem like that content is what the platform, nor its users, want. As such I’m going to shift our approach to having a blend of well-produced content but also more casual, unedited and raw insights. I do like and understand that - it can really help you feel much closer to the brand than a glossy photograph.

• I’ve been focusing much more on “core” work and less of my time on the ancillary elements. It’s fun to be producing lots of things myself and running around curating things, but until the business is generating more income, I don’t think I can afford that luxury. Products, distribution and the webstore is where it’s at for now.

• Insta growth has slowed but interestingly YouTube keeps ticking along. One of our videos just clocked over 20k views and I think that’s pulling a lot of new people in.

• I’ve decided to do a few sales each year - meaningful enough discounts and bundles but not too regularly price-slashing. I think it’s a nice and simple way to encourage someone to enjoy our products. Not going to overthink it. Oh and bundling, which makes a lot of sense for our model (lots of product choice vs two or three flagships).

• Our first virtual instrument is nearly ready and I’m excited about it. The demos we’ve made sound so good and I hope there’s some people who find it interesting.

• We recorded the next virtual instrument last week, too. It’s been enjoyable to work closely with our collaborators and to become friends with them. Definitely reminds me of running a label - a collective of like-minded creatives is slowly forming and that’s fun.

Well, the last two weeks marked a break from all that and I actually got to go and be with people, doing sound stuff.

It began with the modular synth/gear convention in Bristol called Machina Bristronica, which I’ve written about before. TLDR is that it’s a great coming-together of all the folks interested in modular/gear/software. It’s got a bit of a lean towards techno/IDM/leftfield electronic music and so tends to attract those kind of people. Which is where I feel very comfortable and happy. This year, I booked a table to show off our wares as Song Athletics. It was quite a sobering experience - when I’d started off in music tech (+15 years ago) I used to be part of a team that would go to trade shows and conventions like this, set up our stand and gear, and be there all weekend. As the years progressed and I became more experienced, my involvement in trade shows became more focused on meetings and research, and so I swanned around a lot more with little direct responsibility for the millions of tasks associated with running a booth. This time round, it was just me, with a suitcase full of gear and stickers, and whilst I was excited, I was quite nervous. I thought I might have made a mistake by not having a booth buddy, and felt a bit of ‘new kid at the school’ syndrome, but it was all totally fine. I really enjoyed myself, got to connect with a bunch of friends and peers, and actually came away feeling a little be more legitimate. I was there, with our sounds and software, and a banner - it’s a real thing now and I’m out there with it. And I know sometimes getting that far is the hardest part.

I was home for just a night or two before then hopping on a plane to America for the first time in a little while. I was headed to Utah where I’d spend five days with the Mastering.com team, who were running an in-person studio event at a lovely place called June Audio. I’ve never been to Utah and it’s a beautiful place, with a never-ending backdrop of snowy-capped mountain regions. Much of my time was spent in the studio itself, where the program involved working with an artist to take a demo all the way through to a final master, with students being present the entire time. I‘ve recently joined the team in a senior role, so it was a great opportunity to spend time with the team and students, and to get a real feel for what it’s all about. After a few days I was totally blown away. I’ve never sat as a voyeur watching professionals do their thing in that much detail. I’m either directly involved, and pre-occupied with whatever we’re recording and ultimately doing my own version of blagging/fudging it, or quite hands off - dipping in and out to check everyone’s okay and things are going to plan whilst normally handling other elements of business that are going on in parallel. So to sit and just soak every minute of it up was such a treat. In particular, I enjoyed founder Rob spending one of the days mixing. I tend to be quite impatient when it comes to getting the sonic results I’m after, but to watch him carefully and methodically going through everything to arrive at an end goal that is a million times better than I could imagine producing was so inspiring; I’d love to carve out some time to get deep into the art of mixing…

Around all that there were great chats, food and snacks, and I’m still feeling jazzed about it a few weeks later. Even though I ‘work there’ now it’s something I wanna do more of/be part of. That studio experience is just so unique…

As if that wasn’t enough, the following week I headed to Studio Richter Mahr to film Max (Richter, with whom we’re working with to make/release sample libraries and virtual instruments) for a forthcoming product. He and his wife Yulia established the studio as a combined music/art/rural space and it is, quite simply, THE DREAM. Surrounding by acres of green, wildflowers, gardens, sheds and alpacas, it’s a large, airy and light contemporary space full of high tech gubbins. It’s a privilege to spend time there with Max and his amazing team.

And to cap this all off, we just had another Friends of Song event at our local cafe, and it was super-special. Jack from Concept Object spoke to us about their journey in art/design and how that led to creating a range of sought-after loudspeakers, and Lara Serafin, a wonderful artist/composer, graced us with an improvised synth/electronics performance.

So, whilst the majority of my time has me buried in the internet, spells like this where I get to indulge in out-of-the-box experiences are so, so welcome and I guess extremely important. This’ll provide me with the motivational fuel for months if not years, and serve as a very healthy reminder of why I (and we) do this.

If you get an opportunity to, please head to a studio or music happening near you, and soak up every moment of it. You’ll not regret it.

(Photo: Mastering.com / Dustin Speckman)

• I’ve been a bit shy when it comes to demo’ing our products and creating materials that show them in more depth - I think that could be really important, and a few people have mentioned it, so I’m going to do that more.

• I’ve been prepping for a synth convention this weekend and I’m really excited about that. It’ll be our first ‘proper’ outing at something like that with a physical presence. Hoping to meet new people, show them what we do and get feedback.

• We’ve actually had our best sales week in a while. Very modest ~ a few hundred  £s ~ but a timely boost!

• checklists are starting to dominate my life. Handling the execution of every little thing, and having chosen to follow the “volume model” doing loads of stuff, means lots of tiny tasks. It’s taken some time for me to get used to that again - latterly at Spitfire my days were filled with much more higher level work and decision making, so dusting off the cobwebs, bigtime!

• we’re now a label! It was only a matter of time before we started releasing music - makes sense given what we’re all about - and thrilled to be working with a close friend/colleague on that. Have learned the value of having collaborators on projects - there’s an energy and accountability that’s less intense and more enjoyable vs when it’s all just on you.

• thus, our output now includes: sample packs, plugins, virtual instruments, content, events, experimental products/collaborations AND music! Too much too soon? Maybe…I really love it, though. Note to self: no more new stuff, Will! Time to focus on building regularity and consistency around all this.

Taking that and my current circumstances which are seeing me working more regularly into the night (more paid work/3 kids), left me asking the question: why am I doing this?

It’s dawned on me that my decision to build a culturally-integrated company making products, putting out community content and hosting events etc is not comparable to a business built around a single product/concept where you’re looking to see early success and scale accordingly. It’s slow. Really slow. And it’s not making much money. And for every advance on the commercial business side, the time committed to doing the feel good stuff dilutes your ability to be sharp/focused/relentless around driving financial success. As such, it’s probably not a good idea for me to draw direct comparisons to this type of venture and a traditional one - it’ll just make me sad/frustrated. That said, I’ve also already made plenty of mistakes, over-invested in products/areas and learned the hard way. Key point is, a successful business with “meaning” and something magic, was unlikely to happen quickly. It takes the hours, months, years, decades, even, to try the different things, work with different people, get to know the community, find your place in the market, make all the mistakes…

So here I’m am realising this a year in, at the same time as feeling pretty exhausted. Am I ready to put another +10 years of myself into something, taking on all the baggage, noise and distraction that comes with it? Surely it’d be much easier, nicer even, to wrap up my work at 5pm, spend time with my family, and tinker with some hobbies or relax in the evening and on weekends?

Despite that sounding so, so appealing, I think I’ve learned that ultimately, that just isn’t who I am. I want to make things. Share things. I’ve got all these ideas. There’s all this stuff I’m curious about. And as much as I try to pretend I can just decompress in my down time, I feel the most happy and satisfied when I’m engaged in a project. Going through product release checklists, for example, is one of the times I’m most in a flow state - it’s second nature to me and I just love queuing up all the pieces, ready for their presentation to the world. I realised I’ve done this since I was a teenager and I reckon I’ve done several hundred product launches now (certainly when you include all the records I’ve been involved with over the years).

So, I’m almost begrudgingly accepting that this is just what I do. That I have no choice - it’s what needs to happen. That’s a strange feeling; different to the one of hope/excitement/possibility that I had when starting this. Maybe I’ve settled into a relative flow with the company now and this is the realisation that the I’m at the beginning of a long and arduous journey.

In any case, it represents a change and it’s been a sobering week. To add to the reality-check, our initial funds are running low, the plugin we released has had some nice feedback but has sold just a handful, and I’m foreseeing the next phase of our operation as being lean, focusing on celebrating/raising awareness around all the stuff we’ve done and hoping that some of the projects tick over enough that we can reinvest in more.

{Sidenote - all of this feels starkly reminds me of running a small record label and releasing music as an independent artist nowadays. There’s probably loads of other industries and scenaros it applies to too, so take your pick!}

Now, I should mention that there was a point in the week that felt brilliant; electric, even. The product was out and in the period of an hour I had a flurry of emails and messages from customers, friends and other figures I really admire - they were engaging with me and what we’re doing, and in that moment I really felt part of something and legitimate (despite the modest sales). I come back to this idea quite a lot, that a big reason I feel compelled to make and do things that might not make financial sense, is so that I can simply take part. That I’d rather be in it than watching from the outside. I guess then this experience is felt by all manner of folks; it’s the cost of playing the game.

It’s not supposed to be easy, all this. And so now that I’ve gone round the houses in my head, it’s time for me to embrace the challenge, dig in and commit to what is essentially a multi-decade experiment. Will it connect with more and more people, or will it go quietly unnoticed, serving my own needs a small community around me? All I know is I should just focus on the doing and less about the outcome. Existentialism is exhausting and I’m better off spending that energy on the making/sharing…

Here I go, then. Time to buckle up!

(Photo by Jefferson Santos on Unsplash)

This leads to a curious thing where businesses end up having a disconnect from the area within which they are based, geographically. They operate there and maybe rely on local shops and services to support their employees, but there’s no intrinsic link between the business and the place. There are a tonne of exceptions to this, of course, one of which I recall working with which is Bang & Olufsen who are in a remote area of east Denmark, where the town effectively “is” Bang & Olufsen. The person running the local bakery is married to a hardware engineer etc. And that’s great but not perhaps the full extent of what I’m thinking about here. I’m interested in when a business is born in an area that is already established, with its own infrastructure and community. In particular bigger cities, like London, New York etc. What if a business could be more interconnected with the immediate communities and infrastructure within which it’s based? What if when the business succeeds, the area it operates within does too? Something that had me first raising questions like this was how companies I was involved in based in London could explode and yet their respective boroughs continued to plummet with respect to resources and opportunity. Now, there’s an extraordinary amount of detail and complexity behind all this and we’re verging on the political, so for now let’s keep it high level and consider the simple link between business and place…

I’ve established my small business in South Wimbledon, which is where I live. It predominantly sells digital products on the internet to a global audience. It could technically scale quite a lot from my house with just an internet connection and little more, save some discrete studio sessions which ultimately could be anywhere; they don’t have to be in London. Early on, and not just because of what I’m talking about here but also because of proximity to my home and young family, I started thinking about how to build the business in a way that connects us to the local community, which we’ve really enjoyed being part of over the years…

First up, I managed to find a studio/office a short walk from home. It’s part of a group of studios/offices where other local makers, creatives and services base themselves. Then, at the beginning of this year I collaborated with a friend I’d made locally called Sam who runs a coffee roastery. I’d often stop off at his coffee bike parked up near a local tube station on the way back from the school run and had been impressed not only with the coffee itself but how Sam had become a pillar of our community. Positioning himself at the intersection of thousands of locals’ journeys meant he’d become a friendly and familiar face and I’m sure as much of his trade is about a chat with a respected community figure as it is the coffee itself. And beyond the bike, Sam has organised a local walk and talk movement, who I see out and about on occasion, and also a thriving market at a local school where makers come together to sell their wares.

Sam and I have continued to meet and talk, and next on his journey was to open up a coffee shop just up the road from where his bike is. As well as being a destination for coffee connoisseurs, the idea is that it serves as a hub of sorts for the community he’s already built to visit and spend time in. It’s been open a few months and it’s been a huge success.

(Sam - photo via Tooting Newsie)

With that, and in the mode of being local-minded, I’m going to start hosting some regular meet-ups there for music gear and sound enthusiasts, and hope for it not to just be a coming together of broader Londoners but also to discover and meet locals who are passionate about audio. Our first event is next week.

It’s interesting, having worked for some bigger brands, it does seem naturally odd to have a brand that is actually linked to a place, but there are some great examples that I can draw inspiration from: Moog / Asheville, Earthquaker/Akron etc. it also reminds me of the My Morning Jacket documentary where they go back to play a show in their hometown:

I think part of how we got here is that the typical startup “business narrative”, outside of traditional local trades like hairdressers, coffee shops, plumbers etc, is that the ambition should always be to be national or global. You don’t want to ruin the perception of your brand being big time, so don’t say you’re from Bolton (though, it worked for these guys). Businesses skip over the local and see themselves instantly as international, leaving behind any interest in what’s really going on in the areas around them.

That can lead to a harmful socio-economic disconnect, and cities like San Francisco are at the centre of discussions like this, but I’ll save that for a later diatribe. Instead, let’s consider what positive things embracing locality may unlock, and thus what these businesses may be missing out on:

Community Growth - assuming you live near to where you work, if you’re buying lunch locally and using local services, you’re directing that money back into your own area, not away from it. You’re investing in your neighbourhood.

Relationships - doing the above as well as just operating locally will have you meeting and building rapport with other people in the area. And they’ll likely come from all walks of life, not like an assembly of colleagues who are likely to be very similar to you.

This contributes to greater collective understanding within the community - being amongst different groups, systems and approaches breeds greater insights, empathy and exchange, and personally I’ve found this important and rewarding from a creative perspective - you learn more about the world we actually live in, and not just a very small part of it (that said I’ve got a lot more exploring to do in the wider world…outside of highly developed cities I haven’t seen any where near as much as my peers).

Knowledge is ultimately exchanged as a result of these relationships and that has remarkable value, for everyone.

And, finally, really interesting opportunities are created - ones that would otherwise be overlooked if you weren’t local.

So, clearly lots to be had by considering a more local approach in work and business. Now, I’m no saint - I could be doing much more - but I’m trying, and have already been impacted by the rewards that being more community-minded has provided. Also, I’m not out to bemoan anyone who does operate their business without much consideration to their local community - it’s just about highlighting some of the wholesome individual and collective benefits.

So perhaps, however and wherever you’re doing business, a simple exercise would be to go an explore what’s happening locally, driven by locals. It might just surprise you…

So, this year, I thought I’d try to cool things off as far as my sound business was concerned. Outside of specific commitments I’ve made to collaborators, what happens on a day to day is up to me, and so I made the call to slow down the production and release of sounds/content for about 6 weeks - half of July and all of August. I’ve got kids, and they’re little, so I’d like to be around as much as possible to hang out/help out, and I’d noted that the general level of engagement in our world seemed to have cooled off (probably because of everything above plus the compounding effect of cost of living etc), and so it felt natural to just shut up shop. (Full transparency, I was doing some other bits of work - coaching and trialing a new gig, but only in bitesize chunks and with entire weeks off for some trips - it was wayyy more family time than work time).

How was it? Wonderful. It took a bit of getting used to - I know that in the past I would have felt more of a pull to be ‘on’ and moving things forward, both for my employer and my own endeavours, but my experiences over recent years have helped me feel more at ease about the line between work and…not work.

We talk about work/life balance and I get it, nowadays it’s hard to separate the two, but I’m enjoying exploring the “life that isn’t work bit”, and this time off helped me to do that.

I’ve arrived at this idea that, ultimately, if you’re online then you’re either at work, or being worked. I figured that when we’re on our phones etc, we’re likely to be checking emails, Slack or whatever, and working in a traditional sense, and if we’re browsing Insta/LinkedIn/YouTube etc, we’re being worked by the algorithm - being sold to by companies or our peers on where our lives could be better (and what we have to buy/improve on to rectify that).

That idea has me thinking about our life offline, where we’re not working. For most of us, I think that’s become a bit of a nomansland - parenting, gym, a bit of socialising maybe, but we’re quick to get back online, no?

We went abroad during the break and I vowed to abandon my phone entirely. Eating  around the table three times a day, hopping into and out of the pool, watching the Olympics on TV etc had me reminiscing about life when I was younger, and entirely offline. Back then, your life outside of work/school, which was far more contained, was whatever you spent your time doing in the world.

I considered, what do I really like doing when I’m offline? Well, I like being with my family and just kinda mooching about. I like walking and running. I love music but I figured that *really* I do this the most when I’m online and working…I don’t sit and listen exclusively so much, unless I’m at a gig, a listening session or in the car (where I’m obviously driving, so not fully listening). I hope to carve more time out for dedicated listening, and have some interesting plans for that, but it’s felt like a luxury time-wise recently. Okay so mooching, walking/running…oh! Watching TV. I like a good series but what really lights me up (and this is a good litmus test for what you actually like doing), is watching sports (football mostly) and sports documentaries. I find that so relaxing. I love the jeopardy/stress that the athletes are under during competition and the fact that I’m completely passive in it. Maybe that’s an escapism thing.

Digging around further, I realised that something I love to do, but haven’t done for years (because of “work”), is playing the piano. What a beautiful, offline, analogue pastime. I need more of that in my life; just thinking about it gets me really excited. So I’m gonna do more of that.

Anyway, what’s that got to do with my break? Well, firstly taking a step away from the constant flow of emails and information (they’re not going away, btw, no matter how much you try) allowed for some reflection. I think reflection is really important and we don’t do it enough nowadays (mainly because we’re always online). The break then allowed me to practise some of this offline living. I didn’t let myself get sucked back into the deluge and I tried to be more present and allow myself to sit quietly in the gaps. To get bored, even. I found the boredom led to me honing in better on what I wanted really wanted to do next, and that I’d more intentionally go and watch some sport or play a bit of piano, rather than succumb to a period of brain scrambling via my phone.

I felt like I was transported back to the way of living in the 90s, pre internet, and that life was slower, simpler and more wholesome. I thought more deeply about what I was doing - whether it be eating a sandwich or kicking a football with my son.

Of course, I couldn’t help having thoughts about work/the industry etc, but interestingly I didn’t have a flurry of “new ideas”, instead more high level thoughts about what worked, what didn’t, and how best to spend my time (and what to focus on).

Overall I found this Summertime pause really rewarding. And whilst I didn’t make as much, release as much, or consume as much - which I’ve become accustomed to correlate with a certain level of satisfaction/contentedness - I feel…better.

I’m back to work now, and have carefully started firing up all of the cylinders, but I’m doing so with great caution. Faster doesn’t always mean better. I want to hold on to as much of those recent feelings as possible, and feel confident that doing so will play into better outcomes.

Time is just so precious, and where I can I want to reserve as much of it as possible for doing things that I really, REALLY like doing. That light me up. To actively spend my free time not doing that just feels so peculiar now. I hope I remember this - I’ve only been back a week and it feels like a distant memory…

STAY STRONG, WILL.

Bye.

(Photo by Braxton Apana on Unsplash)

A momentary sideline on the appreciation of everything, please. We’re quick to get our fix from Insta scrolling, Deliveroo, YouTube, Diet Coke and whatnot, but with practise, there’s a way of deriving great pleasure from such simple and real things. I think about this all the time and try to slow things down a notch, especially when I’m feeling wired. The world and its people present us with such beautiful tangible things that, if awake to them, can reward us immeasurably. There’s Mother Nature generally of course, but even more specifically here’s some of the stuff I’ve started to really get a kick out of:

• the smell of cut grass

• holding my children’s hands when we’re walking

• a bath

• a good cup of coffee

• a glass of water when you’re thirsty

• the feeling of sunshine on my face early in the morning

• smooth wooden banisters

I could go on. The point here I suppose is to highlight what tuning into things allows for (vs skipping over them). What Action Bronson is doing is tuning into the environment, the process, the ingredients, the flavours of the food and drink he seeks out and squeezing the experience for every last drop of sensory and cerebral excitement that it offers. In watching, I’m left thinking about the things I’m passionate about - coffee, records, sounds, gear - and thinking “I’m leaving so much on the table here?!” How do I get out into the world more soak up the universe of stimuli available around these things and not just scoop the surface level output?

This leads me to thinking about “taste”. Taste I think gets a bad rep as it can be presented as a binary gift that you either possess, or do not. That it’s some kind of “cool radar” that allows you to navigate the world. I don’t think it really works like that, or maybe have a broader view of it. I see it as the result of constantly seeking out an expansion of your experience, of anything. By that logic, it’s not really something that can ever be completed - it’s a continuum of discovery, and something we all have an opportunity to take part in. The experience of doing this is often quite arduous, because expanding your palate isn’t necessarily fun. I distinctly remember how terrible I thought coffee, beer, whisky and so on tasted at first. It’s only with a gentle determination that you’d continue to explore, coupled I guess with a kind of curiosity that has you thinking “there must be something worthwhile about this for so many people to be into it”. And that applies to everything, right?  Why a gardener appreciates flowers, how a Leyton Orient fan gives their life to the club, why Andre 3000 switched rapping for the flute.

This is an elixir to me. I’m getting energised just writing about it…There’s just so much out there to appreciate!! And so much of it is free?! The universe serves it up on a plate to us…!

So how to do more expanding of the one’s palate in the sound world and up the immersion? I think seeing more live music is up for there for starters. Personally, the smaller and more intimate the setting the better. So you can really see and hear what’s going on. I want to see more incredible players and performers. Soak up the consequence of them giving their lives to an instrument. Ask myself - and them, if I have the opportunity - questions about what goes into their instruments and their performance. The materials, the mastery. The techniques.

And there’s recordings. I want to hear more, so I can experience more. I feel like it’s a quantity game where the more I can have run past my ears, the more pieces I can discover that really move me. And there’s the expansive quality too - the more stuff I’m hearing across different genres, the more I can discern what I think feels relatively special within that genre. Curators are really important here - I think they save us some of the hard work by discovering the gems for us; but don’t be too reliant as your own gems might be there in waiting for you…! And our own journeys in searching out new sounds is a major part of the overall experience. It creates memories you’ll hold for years and years to come.

I’ve gotta get more hands-on than I am with my hifi and the records. It’s too easy to hit play on a record/playlist on my laptop and go about my work. I want to feel more vinyl in my hands. Place the needle in the groove. Turn the record on the platter. Turn up the speakers so they make my chest resonate. Feel more immersed in the music. And I mean this in a present way. To pause all else and really concentrate on the sensory happenings of each moment in the process. Because it all has such great value.

Stay tuned for more content of me vinyl sniffing, cassette huffing and staring longingly at kora players…!

W.

On reflection, I’ve always had that - whether it be my first company, a small record label where I surrounded myself with inspiring people, or my scholastic/professional track, where I’ve always been relatively institutionalised. In my case they were small institutions - a small school, a small university department, and small-ish companies (certainly compared to your Googles etc). So I think it’s just how I’ve developed to function - enjoying the interaction and exchange with others whilst working on projects.

It’s become really noticeable how beneficial days out to meet with peers are, and I recently went to Superbooth which was a real catalyst for inspiration, plus in talking to friends I managed to work through some of the boggy backlog of ideas/opportunities/approaches etc.

I think most of us benefit to some extent from coming together and shooting the shit, and I think I’ve gotten to the stage where even periodic meets aren’t enough. I’d like to get back out there, build a small cohort of - real life - colleagues, and also be with more people more often, through events and so on.

And so it’s time for Song Athletics to go beyond just me (and my existing, wonderful remote colleagues) at the laptop, and build the beginnings of a community. This includes both a little team of sorts, and also a broader community of producers and composers who are into what we do.

Now, the business is still in its infancy and I have very little money to play with. So as far as building a team’s concerned, it’s about identifying well-aligned, capable and willing people to slowly help me with certain tasks and projects. I’ve not got “funding” and am not rolling in it such that I can go out and ‘make hires’. I don’t mind that, though. I’m happy to go slow and find the right people, and I trust that the universe will help me there. As for community I’ve got a few ideas, but it’s ultimately about (manageably) bringing people together around a shared love for records and recording culture. I think we all need more ‘third spaces’ available to us to congregate and so I’m looking at how to do that in a meaningful and sustainable way.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the importance of community in music and it’s been a major factor in my obsession/interest in this world. Whether it’s being on forums with fans of the same music/labels as you, being in Discords with other music makers, or just getting the opportunity to be in a room with other humans who share your interests, I think it’s these interactions that are actually the backbone of music creation and why we do it. The (totally contrary) idea that we all want to sit alone in our rooms generating AI music for our own pleasure I think completely misses the point of the whole experience. Music creates memorable moments and bonds between people, and that doesnt happen in a vacuum. I can imagine that with the continued direction of music consumption, there’ll be more of a craving for meaningful togetherness. It’s just too damn wonderful an experience to not find its way back into our lives.

I don’t think this needs to be complicated. I see what the likes of MatthewDavid is doing in LA, bringing world-class artists to perform, for free, to audiences in open park spaces, to Elijah conducting public lectures in London about navigating the way forward as an artist/DJ, to Devon Turnbull (Ojas) and his listening spaces in New York and beyond - there will always be people who want to be united, and not just through high-cost, ticketed spectacles. There’s online equivalents of this too, that seemingly transcend the banality of calls we endured during COVID and feel like electric virtual spaces to spend time together - look no further than Kenny Beats’ Discord and Timberland’s Twitch, to name a couple.

I have modest aspirations for what the communities I’m involved with might look like, but I’m excited to provide a reason/excuse to come together. It’s been too long…

(Photo via ssense.com)

I’ll start with how I feel in this particular moment which is, to be frank, pretty fraught. I’m not having a breakdown or anything, but my head has been spinning for the past month; thinking about all the stuff to do now, the opportunities ahead, how to make it all work, where to focus, constant random dreams and schemes that infiltrate my thoughts. It’s exhausting.

That said, I think this is a natural place to arrive at. In the early days, everything was ahead of me: time, possibilities, our savings. As we’ve actually gone on and launched the company, begun making products and releasing stuff, we’ve switched from being on the sidelines to being in play, and the game is well underway…

(Photo: The Studio when I moved in Summer ‘23)

So, some background. We’re bootstrapping this whole thing with our savings and so there’s a certain runway until things start getting real and bills need to be paid. The aim is to build a long-term company that develops slowly and carefully. These two things, the more I’ve continued, I’ve found to hold quite some tension. There are decisions and moves one could make to get cash in, but they might have an impact on the brand/ethos and general pace of the company. And what’s more important? Getting cash in or building something great? Obviously the latter but you can’t do much building without the cash. So, all stuff I’ve known, but really living that on a day to day.

I’ve got some things on the side which I can do to help prop things up - my coaching work and some other consulting gigs - and so there’s no mad panic here. But I’m definitely out of the “brand new”, honeymoon phase and more concerned with the practicalites of the business operation and how to make it work sustainably and in the long term. This is quite different from the early few months where I was in vision land - carving out the whys the what’s and the how’s, developing the branding and forming our approach to storytelling etc. I love that bit.

We’ve achieved a lot so far, I think. There’s all the structural stuff - registering the company, setting up a bank account, a website, legal bits and bobs, accounting structures to take payments for products and track them etc. There’s the branding, which for the first time ever I’ve had the opportunity to establish at the outset (vs retroactively adapting or figuring out what we actually meant). This isn’t just the design language but it’s the entire approach to how we communicate - everything that can be experienced by interacting with us and how that might land with a customer. In our case this company is as much about sharing an ethos with our customers, as it is purely about the products we sell and things we do…We have indeed made some products, released some and done some stuff: partnerships are in motion - a really special one with Max Richter and SRM Sounds where we’ve released the first product - we’ve started creating content around our community and got a bunch of other stuff like that lined up.

And business-wise, that’s all shaping up well. We’re certainly out there as a new brand in the space and word is gently catching on. Sales are modest and the approach to-date has been completely organic, which has meant needing to be patient. We’re completely new, with few followers and customers, and it’ll take some time for people to discover us. By default I’m pretty conservative and cautious with my predictions about sales/growth etc, but I note that it’s fascinating how despite that I’ll imagine ‘what if’ scenarios where out of nowhere things take off. Again, probably natural I presume, and I know that there’s simply no substitute for consistent work. Just keeping on doing the thing. I suppose that in the quieter, lonelier moments, and there have been a few, daydreaming about a sudden burst of interest/sales probably serves as a premature canon blast out of the hard grind and towards a world where there’s more people, security and…excitement? I know to be careful there, though, my previous experiences have taught me that there are always ups and downs, no matter where a company is at along its journey.

I’m feeling hopeful and positive about the future - we’ve got a number of products in the works, some activities on the marketing/awareness side of things to come, and ultimately I’m resigned to giving it absolutely everything we can and hoping it all works out. I’ve found myself exploring additional and supportive strategies and opportunities around just releasing products, all of which both contribute to bringing some income in and help us establish our name as a worthy partner/collaborator.

Being in charge of our own destiny, there are no specific goals or targets other than to arrive at being profitable and be able to pay me a little bit. There’s a world where we don’t hit that point, but even in a worst case I’m so fond of this space and what we’ve set up already that I’m sure I’d want to keep it as part of my life. We’ll have to see…

And so if feels like we’re approaching the edge of my rational thought, which is easier to commit to paper, and towards my more wandering thoughts that’ll have me pondering life, work, the business and so on all day long. It’s become a habit I’m trying to ease off on - I do know it’s really about just doing the thing (Charlie Dark’s wise mantra).

Goodbye and on I go - perhaps in another year I’ll pause to reflect…

Will

p.s. in writing this, I’m reminded of the really special times I’ve had with friends, collaborators, helper-outers and so on. I feel very lucky for that.

At some point last year, I found myself auditioning a LOT of samples. Makes sense - I’d decided to build my own company selling sounds etc, and here I was enjoying the consequence of actually doing that, and having recorded/commissioned large volumes of audio. During this process, which would be part-administrative and part-creative, I found myself wanting to speedily jump between samples to reference them and perform with them. I looked at my existing tools, and at some new ones, and none of them quite offered the specific flow that I was after. That was, to see the contents of a sample folder, and be able to move up and down between them using the arrow key on my keyboard, whilst simultaneously performing something on my MIDI keyboard and hear the output change based on which sample I’d selected. I’ve used this in our marketing copy but essentially it’s this idea to be able to fly through samples in the same way that you’d listen to presets on a hardware synth. Beep bap bi bi bo doop woosh ahh, kinda thing.

I decided that someone ought to build that, and soon enough when separately I thought “I’d like to have a go at designing/releasing plugins” I looked at my little idea list and remembered this “one shot sampler” idea I’d jotted down. On the same list was another idea: “being able to change the GUI(Graphical User Interface)’s colour and background image”. And that was it - I thought I’d combine two of my interests/needs into one simple plugin and share it with the world. Why not something more ambitious or complicated? Well, because I needed it to do a job for me, and I couldn’t find something that did it how I wanted. And I’m not particularly interested in looking at the market to see what it needs; this was something I was curious about, and that was reason enough for me.

I sketched it out and recruited a developer I’d been following for some time, called John. John has a company called Cong Burn and has released some really interesting software. Plus, he has an NTS show, runs a label and releases his own music. So what better collaborator than someone local(ish) that’s into the same kinda stuff as me.

I had a wonderful time receiving new iterations of the plugin as it was in development back from John, giving feedback, sharing with other friends and producers - it was a lot like making a record with an artist. And it’s a lot like curating some of the sample packs we release.

Once ready, I lined-up all the marketing materials, sent it out to people and it was a proud moment to see it be released into the world. Lots of magazines I’m very fond of wrote about it and it feels like there’s a greater appreciation of putting out a plugin compared to sample packs. That’s interesting, because sample packs can be a great deal of work and cost a lot of money to produce.

I’d given a light amount of thought to the price of the plugin. With my new company, it’s just me, and so I ultimately thought “hmm, what would I pay for this”. I thought about my time, John’s time, our combined experience etc and that I’d definitely pay more than a cup of coffee’s worth for it. When I used it, it really inspired me and that I think has merit, value. And so I opted for £40. I guess my pricing mindset here is more aligned with economics of small craft producers - because that’s what it is in this case. I’ve not really designed this one to be a ‘loss leader’ or audience-builder - though, I might do something like that in future.

There’s been a lot of exciting and interesting feedback, which in itself has been a trip, but it’s led me to really reflect on the general state of things, the opposite ends of my experience in this industry and about what the future holds.

There’s noteably been folks who just don’t get it. The simplicity and specificity of what it does is bewildering to them - why make something that’s practically available in lots of existing products? Why would you charge for this?

I appreciate that. At a glance, it’s not a product that screams “feature-loaded”, or is even offering something particularly quirky/novel. It’s straightforward. And as for price - bigger companies (and I used to do it all the time) would make incredible things for free, and so understand why people might be surprised to be asked to pay for something so relatively simple.

In music tech and many industries beyond ours, I think the race for growth and acquisition of customers has led to a distortion in the idea of what value there is in things that people spend time making. When you’re at a larger scale you can make a call to produce things that you sell cheaply or give away in order to build a bigger audience to sell other stuff too. It’s very normal and we’re all used to it by now; music is an obvious example of this and I’m not surprised where we’ve landed there - why would most people pay for it?

But I do believe that there are enough people out there who are both able and compelled to pay for music or products made by people; be it vinyl, coffee, simple software plugins etc. yes, I could argue that there are free/low pay alternatives to most things, but that’s not really the point. Rewarding the efforts and intentionality of a person, in particular when it’s a small outfit, just makes sense to me and is something I want to participate in. I like that people making things might continue to do so and I’ll pay to support that. If they want to give it to me for free: cool, but if they want to charge me for it, great.

I understand for many that buying stuff like this is a luxury that renders the free/low-cost alternatives a necessity, and that’s something I’m interested in/exploring too - I have some ideas Im gonna try out. But it’s all had me thinking a great deal about the cost of goods, the price we charge and the value we place on those goods and the people selling them to us.

Anyways, OSS (our plugin - short for ‘one shot sampler’) is out there in the world, doing its thing and it’s really exciting to see. I know our world tends to hold most products to the same expectation - features/capabilities etc but I’m having a lot of fun thinking about the small devices I’d like to own/use and considering how I might build them in such a way that triggers something in me to feel energised in the music making process. If a sustainable enough amount of people resonate with those things, then I’ll get to continue doing it and that’s kind of…it. I think that concept is easy to overlook nowadays and not everything made needs to find a huge audience to be worthwhile. Actually that’s what makes the world interesting, I think.

Back to the workshop I go, for more goodies headed your way.

If you’d like to check out OSS, it’s here: https://songathletics.com/products/oss

And if you can’t afford it, write to me and I’ll send you a copy.

Bye!

Will

There was another Devon Turnball/OJAS interview on Steve Guttenberg’s channel recently which I listened to as I was travelling. It struck me as I was listening that this particular interview referenced a bunch of people/items that even in my short and recent return to HiFi exploration come up quite a lot, and that’d it’d be useful to capture/share. If you’re inclined, I fully encourage you watch the whole thing, but if not, I took notes and added links below.

Steve prefaces the interview by remarking how people like Devon represent the “Future of Audio” - the more rootsy approach to high end audio, that is. Helpfully, he lists off some others/or companies worth checking out - they all have a “human connection with their customers”:

Eric Alexander @ Tekton Design

Christopher Hildebrand @ Fern and Roby

Sean Casey @ Zu Audio

John Devore @ DeVORE FIDELITY

Linear Tube Audio

I checked out some great videos with the people above - mostly with Steve interviewing - and notably I’d recommend John Devore’s YouTube channel which is a wonderful thing.

In the interview itself, they spoke of ‘Fi’ in NYC - a legendary scene/shop, which only lasted a year or so in the early 90s. The following people came up, all worth digging into based on their involvement/contribution to the hifi scenes then and to this day…:

Tim De Paravicini - https://www.stereophile.com/content/tim-de-paravacini-rip

Noriyasu Komuro - http://6moons.com/industryfeatures/komuro/komuro.html

JC Morrison - https://www.labjc.com

Herbert Reichert - https://herbreichert.com

Gordon Rankin - https://www.tnt-audio.com/intervis/wavelenght_e.html

It was Fi which according to Devon birthed the single-ended triode movement in America (they referred to themselves as the “Triode Mafia”). Komuro is credited as bringing that from Japan and Devon notes how he/Ojas is keen to bridge the Japanese/US audio scene in much of their work.

Devon discusses MJ Audio Technology, a magazine/journal out of Japan which has been published for over 100 yrs. It features schematics, readers’ listening rooms etc. There is a periodical MJ compendium - 100 Years of Speaker History - which looks wonderful:

Devon goes on to describe how radios/technology was extremely popular in post-war Japan and that a couple of authors of WJ started publishing tube amp schematics (Isamu Asano was one of them). These were single-ended triode-based. The Hifi market soon exploded in Japan, but the simple tube-amp circuits were equally popular to the more mass produced and ‘advanced hi-fi’ tech on the market at the time.

Professor Kinoshita - who runs the DC Brand in Japan - publishes a circuit every month in MJ and has done so for over 5 decades. People build those and it in part gave rise to the boutique parts scene. Esoteric transformers, high end resistors, “Black Gate” capacitors etc. The fetishisation of certain vintage parts wouldn’t exist now without this corner of the Japanese audio scene.

Some examples of components cherished by Japanese enthusiasts (and what I’ve picked up on as being some of the ‘icons’ since delving deeper into Hifi):

Western Electric 300B tube

Ortofon SPU

Also the Garrard 301 turntable, which wasn’t well-supported in the US circa 20 years ago. But in Japan they were much more prevalent.

Finally, a couple of other Japanese publications of note are Stereo Sound and Tube Kingdom.

—

So, a bit of an odd dump of notes there, but I know that for me at least it serves as a really nice reference point to return to down the line.

Hope the same for you!

Will

If you’re listening to Spotify Premium on AirPods, you’re actually having a pretty decent audio experience, relatively speaking. At up to 320kbps, the bitrate afforded to you by your monthly subscription, you’re delivering your Bluetooth headphones about as much information as the transmission can handle, and many experts would suggest the quality is almost imperceptible from CD quality (“lossless audio”). To draw an analogy, and because I love analogies, I’d say it’s along the lines of consuming a Marks & Spencer’s or Pret sandwich for lunch, but in audio terms.

If you’re not quite indulging at this level, say the free tier of Spotify through whatever headphones you can get hold of, well then you’re headed more towards the MacDonalds/Greggs zone of consumption.

Now, I shadeth not MacDonalds, Greggs, or those using the free tier of Spotify - I get it; it’s tasty, affordable and does the job of filling you up (or delivering music you like). I will happily devour a cheese and bean slice or Big Mac from time-to-time and it makes me very happy. And it’s technically not a far cry quality-wise from the first analogy I drew; I eat M&S sarnies all the time and listen to music mostly via the Spotify Premium/Airpod combo.

Thing is, do I want to be eating M&S sarnies or Greggs slices all day, *every* day? I’ve found the answer to be…no. Whilst they deliver instant satisfaction on taste and filling me up (most of the time), I KNOW that nothing touches a home-cooked meal, stuffed full of quality organic ingredients. And it’s just not about the eating experience, the entire ecosystem feels much more rewarding to be a part of - I’m talking about supporting local farmers and shops,  and the act of preparing and cooking the food, in contrast to the speedy and scaled up equivalent.

When it comes to sound, we’re arguably being served up more than adequate quality by the platforms hosting our music, but, if you choose to, there’s so much more to be had from the experience of music listening and participation. And like your choice to eat fresh meals every now and then - or not - it ultimately comes down to how much you… care. To proactively seek to listen in an environment that delivers you more than you’re getting from your AirPods requires money, time and effort. So why might you do that?

I’m not personally convinced that “a better signal” is motivation enough. Like I said, it’s probably already pretty good. But there are plenty of other reasons why you might take further steps…

Whether on better headphones or loudspeakers (via all the gear you can along with them), there’s that old adage of “hearing things you never heard before”. A better playback system and being more attentive to what you’re listening to can reveal small and subtle details in the performances and production of records you‘ve not noticed before. That’s pretty exciting and adds a whole new dimension to the music - in my opinion it helps you appreciate more the work that was put into the record. We’re so used to listening holistically to the music, that you could be forgiven for thinking records come from an industrial sausage machine into which songs are fed and finished tracks popped out; neatly constructed and sounding lovely. The multiple layers of backing vocals or minute elements specifically selected and placed in a mix just don’t land when you’re out on the go on AirPods. Watch this deconstruction of ‘What Was I Made For’ and then listen; see what of the tiny, hidden details you can pick out, or not.

Something I love and vow to do more of is having “big system” experiences. When we listen on headphones or small speakers etc, we miss out on the sheer size of delivery capable of a bigger, “proper” hifi system. The quality is one thing, with much of the above happening, but to be truly enveloped physically by the sound is a wonderful thing. Feeling the rush of air from a kick drum being struck, or the thick hum from a string instrument being bowed, again adds yet another dimension to what we’re used to. Like a new region of your palate unlocked.

With vinyl listening - and to some extent CD/digital if you’re acquiring hi res files - the act of choosing what you’re going to listen to, searching through your collection before taking the record out, placing it on the platter and so on, is a ceremony that I’m convinced is well worth the prices commanded, in contrast to streaming and its unlimited choice and immediacy. As with food, the convenience in its utility actually ends up removing something from the totality of the experience.

An extension of the above is that by sourcing and paying for vinyl or hi res audio (think of it as “organic produce”) you’re putting a chunk of cash into the artists’ hand. It returns us to the place of a greater connectedness with those taking the trouble to make these works and remunerates so incredibly in comparison to streams (to make an artist the £10 profit of a vinyl record, you’d need to stream it 300 times…). There’s also the community at large that you then become part of - whether it’s the record collecting, audiophile, or both - all rewarding and additive to the experience of music consumption in their own right.

The simplest reason why you might make more effort is that just by trying it makes for a better experience. Even if you toggle “very high” in the Spotify quality settings, or you download a high quality digital download of your favourite record, your intention is rewarded by heightening your senses in listening because you know there might be something extra there. And for that I’d say it was well worth it, even if just on occasions.

I’ll do more posts about the types of steps you can take in your hifi journey but some quick and initial ones are:

• the items above

• sitting in a modern car and listening loudly to a track you love (in-car systems are really good, especially in posh cars)

• get your old CDs out (the quality of a CD sets the bar for most digital audio nowadays)

• use wired speakers or headphones with a CD quality/lossless audio source (so actual CDs, digital files or Tidal’s hi-res options, which are better than Spotify’s)

So what do you think? Is your current  experience enough or could you see the rewards in going that little bit further? I’m addressing myself here, as much as you - it’s just I KNOW how magic the experience can be and need a constant reminder in the face of such convenience.

Now, a final note to friends in music/audio - we work in a field where we make a lot of choices based on delivering a level of quality, and so it’s totally MAD that we’d not enjoy it to its full potential on our listening systems (who’s guilty of a quick listen off the laptop speakers, eh!?). It’s like working in a gourmet restaurant and eating reheated leftovers the next day, or worse…So look into it; I reckon it’ll be worth your while.

Happy hi-resolution listening, friends.

Will

(Photo: Brilliant Corners/The Vinyl Factory)

It didn’t really go anywhere, but it had become a bit buried, by emails and actually “doing audio”. Maybe that’s a separate newsletter - the irony of how working in the industry related to your passion means you can find yourself engaging with that passion less, despite being immersed in it - kind of - every day.

Anyways, I had two trips last week and they lit a fire in me so I wanted to share.

The first was going back to where I did my PhD and taught for a bit - the University of Surrey. It’s in Guildford, which is about 30 minutes from London on the train. Half the time I was at Surrey, I lived in London so doing that trip in itself was fun and a trip down memory lane. On the way there I had a phone call about recording strings with my friend who is a wonderful violinist. I’m excited to do that - I’m increasingly seeing how special humans and their instruments are, and how important to our collective journey as sound enthusiasts they are going forward. Playing and recording instruments takes effort. And tapping into that effort, I think, has great value. Thinking more about craft, ritual and experience is something I think we’re being slowly ushered away from via tech/economics, and not necessarily for the better (convenience yes, experience/appreciation less so - read more on that in a brilliant post here).

So, I arrived at the university and took the short walk from the town to the campus, through the student accommodation and past the library to meet Russell, my former PhD supervisor. We went and had a nice lunch at the refectory at the cathedral which sits on top of the hill that the university’s on and talked about all sorts but mostly universities as systems and where they’re at. They’re having a hard time making it all work at the moment…It really gets me how there’s little that escapes the consequence of our constant grasp for growth, wherever you look…

So after that we went for a tour and got to have a look at all their facilities. The department is called the Institute of Sound Recording and it has 3 commercial grade studios. Studio 1 has a Studer desk and  tape machine, and looks onto a large hall. Studio 2 has a beautiful new Neve and a smaller but standard pop-studio sized live room. Studio 3 also has a Neve inside the biggest control room, plus a vocal booth. There are also a bunch of edit suites and rehearsal rooms. Oh and a Synth Lab, which is jam packed full of some VERY special toys. The students record all manner of things, in their downtime mostly (that’s how the course is designed so that the daytimes are spent on lectures/project work), but the thing I like the sound of the most is the ‘live lounge’, where they have to record a live band against the clock. This simulates what Robert the tutor did at the BBC for years and it puts the heat on in a magically terrifying way.

After the tour we had a coffee, talked about our kids, and then I gave a short talk to the students about ‘working in music technology’. On reflection I think it might have been more interesting to talk more specifically about what some of the roles I’ve done entail - I think I concentrated more on the journey/story arc…So will change that up next time.

So that was fun and I headed back to London. Then the next morning I was on a flight out to Stockholm. Over the past few years I’ve connected with a lot of people in sound/music who’re based there and so it felt like it was time for a visit. I was there to spend time with one person in particular, and I was reminded how great travelling is when you’re with a local. We had a traditional Swedish meal in the evening I arrived and talked about our respective journeys in sound. We went for a stroll afterwards around a very misty/foggy city and got into a bit more nitty gritty about potential collaboration. These conversations alone, with experienced and like-minded audio/business enthusiasts, are a real boost - especially having gone solo and spending much more time alone nowadays compared to sitting inside a bustling office environment. It’s a reminder of how exciting it is to go all-in on a passion area; to back a hunch, and yourself, and to do so as part of a community of other people doing the exact same thing. Just like the modular convention I spoke about, the world of music making and HiFi, the two things we spoke at length about, are largely comprised of enthusiasts and entrepreneurs, plus a few juggernauts operating at scale. All I’ve ever known is this kind of over-the-table trade, hocking wares and opinions. Its beautiful. I’ve found myself becoming even more drawn to the individuals and characters behind these ventures, imagining them lugging loudspeakers in vans around cities and up escalators at trade shows. And after show dinners with old friends who are still tweaking original models with subtle upgrades and features; still debating which records are the most accurate and why…

The following day we explored some prototypes and met up with another engineer soon about to release his own products - we had another traditional Swedish lunch at really special little restaurant in what felt like a small village setting - and talked about what makes good products and shared tips and tricks about going to market.

Later on is where the real magic happened - a separate group of us convened and our host took us to visit a quietly lauded Swedish loudspeaker hero. We - mostly all strangers to each other but fans of audio - all crammed into a Tesla and travelled to a suburban area outside of the city. We were greeted by said hero at his beautiful family home that smacked of audiophile; adjacent outbuildings surrounded by cuts of wood and tools, a prominent and illuminated folk-inspired window display in the front room window and a half-dismantled motorbike in the entrance hallway all gave clues that we were in for a treat. He offered us coffee and walked us down to the basement, through a maze of hallways lined with DVDs, old magazines and movie snacks, until we arrived at his listening room. Deadened but not dead, the space had been carefully treated to support constructive listening but still felt DIY/homely. Two lounger-sofas face a selection of his world famous loudspeakers. We had an initial listening session where he’d dim the lights (to absolute darkness…- a bit scary, but had me focusing on the music, that’s for sure!) and play a track he’d selected on the fly. All CDs, we heard a mixture of solo instruments, modern band recordings, orchestral and more esoteric stuff like big pipes in igloos. After an hour we adjourned to grab a bite. We jumped into our respective vehicles and hit a local curry house. The food was good but more fun was how he got the napkins out and drew us charts and diagrams to explain the questions we asked him. Bellys full, we returned to the listening room for a solid 2/3hr session. We listened to a bigger set of speakers and to my delight - less others - we ended with a mono track. One of my posits that evening was around what the point in stereo actually was; why do we create something that doesn’t exist in a recording session (the specific placement of instruments in a spatial field) - anyways maybe I’m biased and that’s a much bigger discussion.

We had a late night drive home and had a lot to talk about following such a unique experience. A big topic was new audiences (ie younger people) and how they might come to enjoy HiFi nowadays…

I slept well that night.

Now as if that wasn’t enough the next morning I went to see a record label-owning  friend and his collaborator (and artist of whom I’m a big fan) at their shop/office/studio near the park where Pippi Longstocking was based. There was a pug, pour over coffee and dark chocolate oat biscuits. We spoke about samples, records and composing. We listened to some music and shared an excitement around the energy around records and HiFi that seems to be growing. I came away with a few records which I brought home in my hand luggage.

Before a final lunch with our host, where we would conclude the trip and our ideas/reflecfions, I grabbed a coffee and a cake (Google: “Fika”) in a cafe that had a real working men’s club vibe about it. Slightly smelly carpets and self-serve coffee like at a church fete but EXTRA DELICIOUS cake. I’ve thought about it a lot since.

Suffice to say, all of these experiences had me so invigorated at the prospect of sound-selling and audio adventure. It’s not just the samples/record-making and gear side that I love but also the records themselves and the playback experience. It’s all great. The ephemera, the rituals, the people, the craft - it’s completely self-serving in a way that I think underpins what life is actually about. Few are there to make enough money to then stop - they’re there because there’s no where else they’d rather be. That’s how they want to spend their time. I’m fully signed up to be that guy for the rest of my life; that is so long as my ear holds up; and even if it doesn’t, I’m sure I’ll still find things about this world that I marvel at and try to contribute towards.

A bit of a gushing post, perhaps, but I bet you want to go make some music or listen to some music now; I know I do…

Hej då!

Will

(Imagine if IKEA made a turntable?)

“I still think ideas, and an aesthetic, and the concept, is bigger than any tool that will help you get there”.

It put my mind onto something I often think about. And that is the balance of being a tool-master vs being creative.

In the music making space, it seems like a great amount of the conversation - in magazines, YouTube etc - is educational; with a focus on how to use your tools. It always leaves me feeling like I don’t know anything; that there are layers of complexity in hardware and software that I’m too much of a lazybones/dummy to get to grips with. What’s my take on parallel compression? How about the utility of auto panning? How do I like to follow an augmented 11th?

Over time this has led me to feel like I’m a total novice when it comes to the tools (and theory, or anything technical relating to the field), and ultimately not worthy of a seat at the table with the “pros”. Now, that’s just a feeling - I know enough to get by - but it really fascinates me, especially when considering the other aspect of music making; the ideas.

Because ideas is where I feel really capable. Even if they’re limited in technicality, I for whatever reason have a relatively constant flow of “this might sound interesting” or “imagine that kind of thing played but in that way”. But the thing with having ideas is, there’s not really a lot to talk about. They just show up. So you can’t make much of a YouTube video about it.

And maybe that’s why there’s a seeming imbalance in what we see and share - it’s because an artist’s “ideas, concepts and aesthetics” are ethereal and totally unique based on their experience/brain, and you can’t really teach someone else to have a spontaneous thought about something in a certain way. As such, we’re often left to retrospectively analyse what people have done, and whilst some of that happens with regard to the creativity (arguably predominantly via what remains of active music journalists) more of it seems to be with regard to ‘how it was made’, so that you can then learn how to recreate it, technically.

It’s been really interesting to spend a lot of time with a variety of artists over the years - the mixture of balances I’ve seen them have, between technical ability and creative ideas, is all over the place.

For all of them who’ve crossed a relative threshold of notoriety or success then it’s fair to say that there is probably a foundational level of creativity and technical proficiency, but the way I’ve seen it is that beyond that it’s mostly people with loads more creativity/ideas than others and a deep desire to express themselves or explore themes and concepts that become really established as artists over the long term. Some of those people also get deep into the theory/tech, but there are very few who *primarily* exhibit god-like understanding of gear and theory, and who are making impactful records.

I guess it comes down to that notion of “what do you have to say?”. To be able to craft anything you like is one thing, but to voice your own mind/world/vision, and in an interesting and compelling way, is really something else. Processing tricks and orchestration chops won’t do much for your ability to mine your inner psyche or channel a unique creative spirit.

There are some great examples of brilliant artists not being virtuosic, like Aphex Twin not knowing how to play the piano and using a Disclavier or Irving Berlin not being able to read or write music and only knowing how to play the piano in F-sharp.

And then there are the amazing all-rounders, too: like Ariana Grande editing her own vocal comps, Kevin Parker (Tame Impala) who did it all on Currents and…Prince…!

I reckon there’s a link with all this and the collective fear of AI and its impact on music making. If what you’re involved in is re-assembling music based on existing components and ideas, using a skill of tool-knowing, then I guess yes that could arguably be codified and a computer could do a pretty good job of it. But if you’re making a neo soul album about the time you fell in love with a ranch hand, then your personality and experience in that can’t be reproduced by a computer, no matter what you tell it. The subtle and subconscious inflections and performances with great artist’s records are, I think, what we detect and relate to as humans. Some of the most wonderful recordings are full of technical inaccuracies and bloopers. And maybe that’s part of why they resonate. Enjoy this thread on that…https://gearspace.com/board/so-much-gear-so-little-time/429338-out-tune-vocals-huge-hits.html

So what am I saying? I guess that I really agree with Skrillex and that technical expertise in music making isn’t the be-all and end-all; far from it. And that it doesn’t matter if you don’t know your delays from your deverbs - when it comes to making great records or music, that’s a relatively small part of the equation. Now don’t get me wrong, a great number of people love to indulge in the tools, strive to become masters and go on to serve the art as part of world-class projects. And that’s wonderful - we need that and they’re brilliant. But don’t let someone wave a manual in your face and make you feel like you’re lesser than. And better still don’t let a fellow creator make you feel inadequate because they’ve got a better mic pre than you - great pieces of art need time and experience, and if you’re too busy learning how to programme new devices, you might find yourself selling your ideas short…

Equally, if you don’t have ideas and/or prefer the geeky-side, that’s okay too - get stuck into the theory, enjoy the s**t out of the process and recreate your favourites or explore as you wish - no one’s keeping track.

I have days where I seek comfort in one or the other, and that in itself can be quite an enjoyable balance; to reward learning something technical with a bit of a noodle, and vice versa.

Finally, if you suck technically and don’t have any ideas, but still enjoy it, then good for you - you’ve achieved nirvana! For most of us, enjoying it is supposed to be the whole point, so congratulations - you’re getting something out of it and not overthinking things.

In any case, stay busy, friends…! 🤘🏻

(Three Wave Music via Keyboard Magazine)