Last Updated on May 15, 2011 by James Dziezynski
There are 525,948 minutes in a year. Trying to compress the sum total of those minutes into a 4 minute and 22 second song wasn’t easy.
In late 2009, I committed to a project that would not only help me rediscover my semi-dormant love of music but also archive the year that was to come in a unique way — I would record the year in music. As a professional writer, the act of writing in a diary or journal wasn’t the right outlet. Words are expressive, passionate and purposeful but the structure of language, for me at least, is always driven by the reality of a captive audience. The same could be said about music I suppose, but for me music has always been a deeply satisfying and personal expression, wonderful to share but equally rewarding for my own singular enjoyment.
I was inspired by several sources, including my friends who continue to create music in the midst of living out the meaningful things in their own lives. I also was able to open my mind to the process thanks to different but related forms of music. The way classical music and (gasp) opera tell a story was a nice shift from the conventional verse/chorus/verse style of pop and rock songs. And it’s a backhanded compliment to myself that I can’t sing so any vocal work is flat out of the question. Some old time country artists ala Chet Atkins also were inspiring — the way he’d write a song about a speeding steam train or a bird in flight was always cool.
Finally, I must admit my biased influence of my favorite band Rush, specifially the song La Villa Stangiato. La Villa (subtitled “An Exercise in Self-Indulgence”) was written in pieces that were created by putting musical movement to guitarist Alex Lifeson’s dreams. I’ve always liked how much emotion is in the song, from goofy cartoon-inspired riffs to moody and deep solos.
With that back story in place, I began to keep a musical journal of the events of the year 2010. Lucky for me, in times of joy or sorrow, I tend to migrate to my instruments and play. I’d record the bits and pieces of moments in time, not particularly concerned if they’d fit together. In this musical scrapbook, I chronicled an array of things that brought me back to my instruments: a good day of snowboarding, the people who brought happiness and sadness, my pets, a beautiful sunset, a traffic ticket, whatever it was that lingered long enough to be outputted through music. Less intentional but worth noting is the bulk of these emotions were recorded on bass guitar.
Finally, having collected a years’ worth of thoughts, experiences and feelings, I sat on the recordings, partially hamstrung by my limited home studio. With a little work and investment, I did get my humble set up running and decided the 2010 song was the first project to complete, before it got too stale and less raw. It’s been interesting to see how the entire thing has come together.
As of this month, all the composition is complete and perhaps the most time consuming part of the entire thing, sequencing drums, is done. When I get a few hours I’ll complete recording the guitar and bass parts, mix it up and it will be done. I don’t expect it change the world, heck if a handful of my friends humor me and give it a listen I’ll be thrilled. But even if it’s only for my own ears, I’ll know every single section of music is a reflection of a real event in my life. The smooth blues, the melodic grooves or the abrupt time changes all echo a story.
For what it’s worth, yes it is cathartic. And there is pleasure in the challenge of eliciting emotional through song, without the blunt and straightforward message words bring. I’ll have the thing done in the next few weeks and will post it on my website. If it’s an accurate representation, maybe it’ll bring you to a glorious mountain top or extract a bittersweet memory.
Or even better, maybe you will find your own story somewhere in the notes.
