“Honestly, I can’t figure out why the client picked this track, It sounds like a funeral dirge” These were the first three sentences out of the agency producers mouth, as her and three other advertising creatives sat down on the couch. This was a mix session for a commercial. The music they were talking about was mine. It was the first spot I’d ever won. The excitement of the occasion quickly gave way disappointment. I sat in the mixing chair, mortified to hear what these people truly thought about my track. Me and my boss (the executive producer for the music house ) exchanged glances. Not knowing what else to do. I swiveled around in my chair, swallowed my pride and said meekly “ I wrote the music, and I’d be happy to re write the parts you don’t like with your help.”
The whole room stopped. They had no idea they were insulting me, that the music they berated was mine, and I could see the look of guilt pass across their faces. I smiled, trying to convey the fact that I wasn’t hurt by their comments, even though deep inside my ego was desperately trying to find all the pieces of my shattered pride. My smile made them smile, and the most vocal producer excitedly responded that she thought this was a great idea.
I immediately forgot my bruised ego, as the realization dawned on me that I’d now have to write new music, in real time, with the client in the room giving me direction. Sheer terror. What was I thinking? I immediately had four people spouting ideas about what should happen when, where the melody should rise, and what instruments should play it. My boss looked at me and said with a smile“ I think you have this under control, I’ll be back to check in shortly. “ What????
Then it clicked. I did have this under control. We spent the next two hours perfecting the melody and progression of the song, brightening the mood and adding a touch of hope (This was a spot for a surgical procedure). The Client went from extreme dislike to real and genuine love for the piece of music that was now on their commercial. We finished the mix, and the four longest hours of my musical life (till then) came to an end.
This session was probably one of the most formative and important sessions for me as a writer and a musician. The first thing I learned was that my ego and pride have no place in the recording studio. I should never be so emotionally attached to anything I write that I can’t take criticism with a smile and genuinely consider its validity. The client was right, it wasn’t a great piece of music, and to be honest I couldn’t believe that out of all the tacks handed in mine was the one selected.
Lesson number two? Collaboration is key. Did we actually make the song better? Who knows, but we didn’t make it any worse. Through the collaborative process the client began to feel like the song was theirs as well, and regardless of its musicality, they began to love the song because it became their creation.
Lesson number three is perhaps the most important. Don’t be afraid. I had never written music with anyone in the room with me before. Composition and the trying out of ideas was previously a very private thing. I can honestly say my hands were shaking for the first hour of that session. I probably held my breath the whole time. If I hadn’t ignored my fear and suggested the group writing session, there’s a good chance my track would have gotten the boot at the last minute, or that the advertising agency would have gone to another music house for their next job. From that moment on I was able to run sessions confidently, and found my self to be creative regardless of whatever situation would arise in the studio.
Do any of you have similar stories of over coming obstacles in the studio? I would love to hear them. There are always valuable lessons to be gleaned from these tiny triumphs.
Best,
Eric