I’m cleaning out old directories of unfinished music projects and it feels good to let go of that accumulated material.
Don’t get me wrong; it’s not all drek. I’ve harvested the best bits and can drop them in to a new project down the road without having to reinvent them from scratch.
I used to hold on to these projects because What-If Some-Day Just-Maybe… but nah. It might have happened, I might have finished those songs one day, but I chose to cut them loose and move on.
Now I have an additional 20GB of unused disk space. That’s 20GB of potential.
Time to start filling it up.
I organize my music projects by genre, and I name the directories after the city that best represents those genres. House music goes in “Chicago”; my rap beats have all ended up in “Brooklyn” even when they’re broader than Bed-Stuy.
I’m not sure where the current crop is going to go. “Berlin” might work for the dub techno I’ve been churning out lately, but I’m not sure what will work best for the minimal dark industrial beats that seem to come forth late at night.
My world is a map of music. My music is a map of the world.
Finishing the music isn’t the point, has never been the point. Making it, getting lost in it, is all that matters. I’m not a songwriter. I design sounds, create atmospheres, and build collages. I make them and then let them pass, like the weather. One stormy day might be followed by calm, or it might be another downpour, but the impermanence of it all is understood going in. Let it wash over me, soak me to the bone, and see what happens.