Inspired by George Harrison's 'I Me Mine', and every other time that a Beatle reviewed their own music.
October 7, 2017
-Sat down at the family piano upstate and recorded the idea for what would later become 'a passing glance'.
January 4, 2018
-Sat down on my bed and recorded the idea for what would later become 'a deep dive'. The first "bedroom" song.
February 5, 2020
-Recorded the first demo of a song I called 'waning sky' on the brand new J Mascis Jazzmaster I had just bought for myself. 'waning sky' would later turn into 'a painted sky'; the second bedroom song.
August 11, 2020
-Came up with the riff of what would later become 'a hazel chandelier'; third bedroom song.
October 19, 2020
-Sat down with a ukulele at an undisclosed location...and recorded the idea of what would later become 'ukulele song'.
Coincidentally, it was written on a ukulele.
March 15, 2021 (bear with me, we're almost done)
-Went to Guitar Center with my friend Christian and wrote the entirety of 'a transitional piece' in the bass room of the store. Went to Home Depot and Krispy Kreme afterwards.
Not a bad day.
October 14, 2021
-Sat down in my room and recorded the initial idea for what would later become 'somewhere over there'; the final bedroom song.
Okay. So.
I didn't know what to do with any of these songs in the moments they came to me, but I knew that I liked them, and that I'd be an idiot not to see them through to completion. Some songs were finished later than others, but these were the days that each of the initial ideas came to me, and I held onto them from the moment that they did.
On May 7, 2022, I decided that I was going to record an album—and, no matter how badly it might turn out, I was going to do it on my own. The reality of what it took to make an album in a studio hit me all at once that night, and I knew that I just did not have it in me to scrap all the demos I had made up until that point and make studio recordings out of the songs I wanted to put onto the album. So, I didn't. I had my 7 songs and, with more confidence than ever in my ability to see the whole thing through, I started to take the steps necessary towards making the album I wanted to make.
Over the course of the next few months, I went back and worked on the demos I had for these songs, and added whatever I thought was missing to each one. For some, it was a guitar part; for others, it was the tweaking of an effect on a guitar part. Essentially, I just did whatever was necessary in order for me to be happy with the song, and I did it over and over again until I did it perfectly. Or, whatever felt perfect to me at the time, at least.
It was during this time that a lot of the lyrics to the songs were written, too. I wasn't much of a lyricist at this point, but I knew I wanted to say something with each of the songs on the album, and I pushed myself to make sure I got each of the ones that had lyrics to them messages across.
Every song on the album was picked for a reason. To me, it felt like all these songs belonged together—that, when played one after another, they each told a story that could be picked apart if someone felt so inclined to do so. They all formed a theme that was strong enough to make up an entire album's worth of material, and that's what I ultimately worked on the most—making sure that this album felt cohesive in the way these songs all came together.
Musically, I felt like they all brought something unique to the table, too. 'a painted sky' brought with it a sense of dissonance and frustration, 'ukulele' a sense of longing, and 'a passing glance' a moment of respite from those emotions in a piece of music that sounds like it finds peace in the fact that, because those emotions won't ever go away, it's better to run into them than away from them. When I put these songs all together, they just all seemed to form a sentence that was started and ended by each song that came before it.
Lyrically, a lot of these songs deal with the most persistent thoughts that had been on my mind at the time, and that still are in a lot of ways. So, because of that, I'll go through each one very quickly, explain how I wrote it, what it's about, and what my overall thoughts on the song are now.
This is a track-by-track review of the songs on my album 'in soft focus', and this is what they all mean to me.
'a painted sky'
'a painted sky' is about the "moon," and how it chooses to come and go whenever it feels like it. Symbolically, that "moon" represented inspiration for me.
I've always had a difficult relationship with creativity; when I first started to write songs, I would resent the moments in which I'd sit down to write something, and have nothing come out. I'd feel like I wasn't good enough in those moments, and that feeling is something that's stuck with me over the years. So when it came time to write lyrics for the song, I decided that that feeling was something I'd actually want to write about. And, for what it's worth, I think they came out pretty well.
I like the resentful sort of tone that the lyrics take on in the verses, and how strained my relationship with the "moon" seems to have become over the course of time. What I like even more, though, is how by the end of the song, I've come to accept that at the end of the day, the "moon" will come and go as it pleases, and that all I can do is be ready for it when it does come. There's a sense of resolve there, and it's surprising to me that there is because I honestly didn't think I was capable of writing lyrics with any sort of substance at the time. It's cool to look back on.
Musically, I think the song is pretty cool, too. I really like the chord progression and the extreme dissonance it takes on during the first bridge. That first bridge is actually something I'm really proud of, too, because I remember just absolutely laboring over it, hunching over my guitar for hours on end until I got what I heard in my head out into the song. I think the song itself resolves itself pretty nicely towards the end, too, because, as the lyrics start to find peace and accept the situation for what it is, so, too, does the music, and the chord progression reflects what the words are saying in a really nice way. I like that about it.
It's funny, too—the ending of this song sort of sounds like snow falling to me, like a musical representation of all the torture I had put myself through finally being put to an end, and give way to something that sounds like it's come to terms with everything it wasn't able to before—if that sort of thing could be gotten across in a song, anyway. But yeah, I really like this one, and I'm proud of everything I was able to do with it.
'ukulele song'
Ol' uks. Me and this guy go way back. This was a tough one for so many different reasons. Musically, it was a point of frustration for me for such a long time. I never thought anything I did for it was good enough, and it went through so many different stages before I finally just forced myself to finish it. It had the most amount of changes made to it out of any other song on the album, and I'm actually sort of embarrassed about how indecisive I was about it now. Even now, I'm not entirely convinced I made the best choices for it. But, despite that, there are moments in which I'm able to look past its flaws and just appreciate the song for what it is.
Lyrically, the song is about me missing someone. Someone that, deep down, I know I might never get to see again. Not in the same way I used to, at least. I know, a very depressing thing to make a song about, but this song really is just me trying to take solace in the fact that if that's true, if I truly do never get to see this person again, then at least I'll get to see them in my dreams, as I already have so many times before. If all else fails, then I'll at least be able to keep my memory of them alive through my memories, and I like to think of this song as the physical embodiment of that sentiment, through and through.
Again, it's funny. I remember laboring over the lyrics to this song in the same way I did the music. I would drive myself crazy looking over each and every word, wondering whether or not I was saying the things I wanted to say in the way I wanted to say them. Ultimately, though, I think I did. These lyrics are honest, and capture the way I feel about the person that they're about—the way she exists in my head, and how she'll continue to exist in it until either the day I die, or, perhaps a little less dramatically, until the day I see her again.
'a passing glance'
'a passing glance' is a short little piano piece that I've grown to love so, so much. I can't play piano for shit, but somehow this song just happened to fall out of my hands while I was sitting at the piano that day in 2017, and I had the idea for it ever since. It's actually really funny, the recording that's on the album was taken on the same day that I came up with the idea for 'a transitional piece', and so it was recorded at the same Guitar Center that I mentioned in the little journal entry at the beginning of this post. That's why you can hear all of these random little things going on in the background of the song—they're the sound of people at the store that day just living their lives. That's something that I like about the recording so much. I love the idea that these were the sounds of people completely unaware of me and the things I was doing with my life, and they added so much to what was already a very somber and sort of detached-sounding piano piece.
The song has a transient little melody to it, too. One that seems like it's searching for something, but stops halfway through and becomes content with never finding what it was looking for in the first place. The little out-of-key note in it was actually something that I played by accident, too. In the original recording that I made of the song, I actually am playing in key but, because I'm a shit piano player, I miss the right note and hit the wrong one instead. Hitting that note was the best thing that could've happened to me, though, because to my ear, it just sounded so much better than what I had before, and the entire second half of the song was based off of where that mistake led me to go.
I think it's a beautiful little piece, and it's become one of my favorite ones to go listen back to.
'a deep dive'
This is another one I had so much trouble with writing for such a long time.
I started writing it in 2018, but only got around to finishing it in 2020. For the longest time, I was obsessed with the idea that it wasn't finished yet, and that I needed to add something else to it before it could be finished. What that something was, I didn't know, but I always figured that it would come to me sooner or later. Eventually, it did come to me, but not in the way I had expected. I always thought that what I needed to do was to an add another section to the song, but eventually I realized that that was a stupid idea, and that the song was fine the way it was—all I needed to do was add to what was already there. So, I did, and that's how I came up with the guitar part that closes out the song. I think it's the best-recorded one out of the bunch, too. I'm the first one to criticize the way this album was recorded—it's all janky and so obviously recorded by someone who didn't really know the first thing about recording. But, with this one, I think I did a really good job with what I had available. I love the way the guitars sound—how they're all layered over each other, and how my voice just seems to melt itself into the center of it all. It's all very much inspired by the sort of thing Radiohead was going for with songs like 'Weird Fishes', in which each part that each instrument plays comes together to form a whole—a whole shaped by all the things it's surrounded by.
I really love the harmonics that ring out during the choruses of the song, too, because they were completely accidental. I used my old, beaten up acoustic to record this one and, whenever I played the notes to the chorus, those harmonics would just naturally come out of the guitar. I don't know if it was because of how damaged the guitar was or what, but I'm beyond happy that I was able to get them in the recording because I literally cannot imagine the song without them. So yeah, with this one, I just tried my best, hoped for the best, and happened to end up with something I'm really proud of.
Lyrically, this song is about myself and the "deep dive" into my psyche that I probably need to take now more than ever. They're very wistful, very depressing sort of lyrics, but they're also very sincere, and I think they're beautiful for all those reasons. Sometimes, you need to feel those sort of emotions in order to be comfortable with who you are as a person, and to remind yourself that you have to move on in life, no matter how hard that might be.
'a transitional piece'
This is a really cool one! I recorded this one at my rehearsal space in Long Island City, so, along with 'a passing glance', it's the only other song on the album that was recorded outside of my bedroom—though the guitar part was still recorded in my room. It's a very pretty piece, though, in my opinion, and it's one that was very much inspired by the great Jaco Pastorius and his song 'Portrait of Tracy'.
Hearing Portrait of Tracy for the first time was such an eye-opening experience for me, because it showed me how beautiful the bass can be as an instrument in which an entire piece of music is based upon, and it inspired me to try to write something that was even half as good (though I did bring a guitar into the mix...sorry Jaco). And while I don't think I came anywhere near that goal, I'm still pretty happy with what I did end up with.
I think the song serves its purpose on the album, too. Like 'a passing glance', it provides a moment of respite—another moment of peace that centers you and acts as a sort of palette cleanser for the song that comes after it.
'somewhere over there'
'somewhere over there' is such a little doozy of a song. And little is such a funny word to use, because it's literally the longest song on the album.
I actually think of this one and 'ukulele song' as two sides of the same coin. They both deal with the loss of relationships I held very dear to my heart, and both end in these very cathartic sort of outro sections that I just poured all of my emotions into. This was one that I always found myself listening back to, too, even before the idea of putting it on an album was ever even a thought.
Lyrically, the song is about a place—a state of mind that I wish I could be in, but that I know I'm ultimately not. It's me acknowledging that even though I'm not at a place in my life where I can have the things I write about wanting in the song, I will be one day. One day, I will be somewhere over there, and not here where I am—in a state of constant regret over the decisions I've made in my life.
This one really has proven itself to be one of my favorite ones to listen back to, and I'll always remember recording the solo to it as being one of the most cathartic moments of my life. The solo was actually very inspired by the one at the end of 'only tomorrow' by my bloody valentine, too. I've always loved that solo with all of my heart, and once I got around to the outro of this song, it felt right to do the same for my song as Kevin Shields did for his. So yeah, I really do love this one, and it's still one I look back upon very fondly.
'a hazel chandelier'
Ol' hazy. What can I even say about this one? There's so much that I can say about it, but almost all of it can be summed up in one word: acceptance. Very corny, I know, but it's true. This song is about me accepting that while I might always be alone in life, I'll always continue to watch over the person that the song is about. Through all of her successes and moments of happiness, I'll be there to cheer her on and root for her from afar. As much as I can be, at least.
This song was actually the first one on the album I wrote lyrics for, too, and they were my first real attempt at ever writing lyrics. And, for what it's worth, I think they're the best I've ever written. They mean a lot to me, and every word rings true to this day.
Musically, this is a funny one. I had the verse's riff written first, and it only came to me because of my acoustic's inability to stay in tune; the same one I used for 'a deep dive'. I picked it up one day and it was in this weird sort of tuning that I'm not even sure of what the name would be, but I jotted down how sharp or flat each string was from standard, and remembered how to get to it that way. I stumbled my way through the tuning to find the rest of the song, and eventually ended up with something I really liked. It's a very simple song, but it's one that I think packs a lot of punch into every note it's composed of. It's sad and it's depressing, and I think it's the perfect song to end the album on for those exact reasons. It's a song that rises out of the ashes of the last one with a heavy sigh, and an unresolved sort of quality that very fittingly ends what I think is ultimately a very defeated sort of album. It's sad and it's depressing, and that's exactly what this album is.
But yeah, with that, the album ends. Again, pretty fittingly, if you ask me. From start to finish, I think this album gives a clear view into the insecurities of the person that made it, and creates art out of the things they're insecure about.
The album itself is called 'in soft focus' for a couple of different reasons, but the most embarrassing one has to be that it's from a line in what has to be my favorite Black Country, New Road song, 'Basketball Shoes'.
The line goes:
"And then it's in soft focus all around you
You can't see the football game"
In the song, the idea of a soft focus effect is used to convey the blurred vision that the subject of the song is experiencing as a result of the tears that are streaming down their face; in a lot of ways, that's how I felt while writing the lyrics to these songs.
Obviously, I'm being a bit dramatic—it's not like I was about to break out into tears at any given moment, but I did feel as if I was trying to write about the things that do give me the urge to fight back tears, that do give me a pit in my stomach—and that do make me feel as if I've made a mistake in life. For the most part, these songs are all about things that do make me feel as if I'm living as a version of myself that's only served to hurt the people I love, and that really just wants to do better at this point. The image of a blurred field of view was something that I just really identified with and really felt represented the themes the album was going for, and so I just knew it had to be the name of the album once it occurred to me.
Musically, the name seemed to really fit with the album, too. Again, I'm the first to admit that these songs aren't recorded in the best way—they're grainy, full of mistakes, amateurish and bare bones in a way that would make a more capable musician scoff at what they're listening to. But, for me personally, I like that they're this way. I like that the album has all these flaws that contribute to the overall identity of it. Its flaws give it character, and make the name of the album all the more relevant to me. The idea of a soft focus effect makes so much sense to me as a name because these songs aren't in clear focus, they aren't a neatly polished set of songs that one might expect them to be, and the name of the album reflects that. And, again, I love that about them. I love that there are all these little found sounds in the recordings, and I've actually become really attached to so many of them at this point. Things like the sound of dishes being cleaned in 'a painted sky', of birds chirping in the background of the 'ukulele song', and of children playing in the background of 'a passing glance'—these are all things that have endeared themselves to me so much that I can't even imagine the songs sounding any other way. To me, they're just as much a part of the album as the music itself, and, in that way, the name just continues to be reflected in so many different aspects of the album, and I just truly do love it for that.
Of course, I'll always have my insecurities with it, but, at the end of the day, I'm proud of how this album came out, and I don't regret the approach I took with it at all. This album is the sound of a boy in his room, and that's all I ever wanted it to be.
So yeah, that's why I named the album 'in soft focus', and it's also the reason why I chose the album art to be what it is—a hazy, unfocused image of the room that all these ideas came to life in—and, in a way, where they'll continue to live on in from this point on. By putting this album out, I honestly just wanted to do something I always wanted to do. Music has always been a huge part of my life, and releasing my own music was something that I had wanted to do for as long as I can remember.
If I could impart some sort of advice to anyone, any sort of message at all, it would be that you can do anything. Don't get me wrong—there is a standard to which a lot of recorded music is held to, and, of course, that standard is valid and is the reason why a lot of the greatest songs in the world are so great in the first place. But, be that as it may, sometimes it really is okay to just let something be what it is, and to just put it out if you feel like it. That's what these songs meant to me, and I hope that's what they could mean to someone else who listens to them somewhere down the line.
Not everything needs to be so polished in life. At the end of the day, you really can just do the things you want to do and see them through to the end. Take the time to make sure it's something happy you're happy with, yes, but just put it out there.
You'll thank yourself for it later.