Do you ever find yourself writing some music that, in theory, is great, but in practice, doesn’t quite hit the mark?
It’s hard not to get excited when you hear the virtuosic orchestration of John Williams, or the exquisitely technical production of Flume, or the beautiful shapeshifting chord patterns of Paranoid Android. I know these things make me want to jump into my studio and get lost for a couple of joyful hours. It’s a real kicker, though, when the outcome doesn’t seem to gel, or worse, when you play it to someone and get the dreaded ‘yeah, that’s pretty good’. It’s a real gut punch. All those hours! Can they not hear those techniques?! Well, more on that later.
I have a note stuck to my studio computer which I look at before I start my work these days, and it says this; ‘Make music like it’s a meal for everyone’. Why? Because when you think about music like food, it reminds you that context is everything, less is often more, and most importantly; to trust your gut.
"Make music like it’s a meal for everyone."
If you are at a restaurant, you don’t need the chef to come out and tell you all the amazing techniques they used to create the food; you know when you eat it as to whether you like it. And sure, if you’re in a Michelin star restaurant, you probably want all the bells and whistles - but let's say you’re grabbing a slice of pizza; it’s pretty likely you don’t want the same things. You want a slice you can walk down the street with, right? That’s the context.

Now, I’m all for artistic experimentation. I love it, it’s what keeps music fresh. Extended techniques on an instrument? Yes please, Stravinsky. Tuning all your guitar strings to the same note? Thank YOU, Sonic Youth. Running whole stacks of instruments into a compressor sidechaining the kick? Voilà, Daft Punk. Think how boring life would be if we never pushed the boat out! But remember, that unique secret sauce that makes your taco taste out of this world? It’s just the sauce, the rest; simple, well executed cooking. That’s where less is often more.
Now trusting your gut; this is why we’re all music makers! Here’s a little story from when I made my most recent EP as a recording artist, ya ukrainets. I was sitting on a beach in Mexico, having a wonderful honeymoon, when I saw that Ukraine had been invaded by Russia. I popped my headphones on, grabbed my phone and tuned into the BBC world service coverage, where there was a report coming in live. As soon as I heard the devastating wail of the air raid siren, my gut told me two things; firstly, that I needed to do something, anything to try and help these poor suffering people, however small a gesture. Secondly, that that thing was going to be a charity music release, and that it would be built around a sample of that very air raid siren.
Now, I could have come up with a load of different sounds that would have created tension throughout the piece, so why did I go with a grainy sample from a field recording? It certainly fitted into my ideas of context, but I don’t believe it was that. Perhaps it was the simplicity? As simple of an idea as it was, again, I’m not sure that was the deciding factor. The decision, in my mind, came precisely because I wasn’t thinking about it at all; I was listening with my heart, and trusting my gut.
I think it’s easy sometimes, with all the cool techniques and intricate methods we can learn, to overcomplicate things.
"I think it’s easy sometimes, with all the cool techniques and intricate methods we can learn, to overcomplicate things."
To overwork the mixture. To forget how much seasoning to put in. Techniques are just tools, a way of doing something. They aren’t the creation itself. There’s no one way to make a beautiful piece of music, just like there’s no one best food. It’s all got to be for a reason, part of the bigger picture, though.
Now, back to that gut punch. The truth is, no, they probably can’t hear those sweat and tears, those honed techniques. And the bigger truth is, they probably shouldn’t hear them.
"Music is in the heart, and music is in the gut. It’s also something for everybody, not for the lucky few who can verbalise the intricacies."
Music is in the heart, and music is in the gut. It’s also something for everybody, not for the lucky few who can verbalise the intricacies. Think simply, remember what you’re writing for, trust your instincts - and saving the best until last - enjoy it. After all, food’s for enjoying, right?
About Jacob
Jacob is a composer, producer and musician. Starting life in a small, working class, industrial town in the North of England, he now resides in California.
The path into a career in music was unique; the first gig he landed was writing music for on-hold messaging. Now, his work is as varied as his musical tastes, and includes award-winning shorts and feature documentaries, avant-pop artists; adverts for blue-chip brands and includes commissions at world renowned festivals. The detailed process of creating a sonic language with directors and artists he takes, and his unique blend of organic, found sounds and classical sensibilities create a music language perfect for scoring. A huge believer that music is for everyone, he loves to work with people, help them find their artistic voice, and give them the courage to pursue their convictions.
Alongside composing and producing, he is a multi-instrumentalist who has played at festivals throughout the UK with his post-punk outfit Gardenback, headlined dance tents with groove-merchants Howling Rhythm and performed on some of the most prestigious concert halls in the country, including The Bridgewater Hall and The Royal Albert Hall.
