brettworks

The most discombobulating, yet thrilling part of composing is being without a plan of action for a session. Load an instrument, or noodle on a sound? Improvise some chords? Build a beat? Experiment with effects? Revisit an old project? This considering of options and trying out little things puts us in a space for something to quietly beckon, to crystallize what feels random into something suggesting a way, a vibe, a possible aesthetic.

This moment, when no direction suddenly becomes a direction, has a dynamic, shifting quality that makes it easy to miss. There’s neither a prerequisite as to what qualifies as a musical idea with potential, nor a recipe for how to cultivate one besides pursuing an answer to the question, Does this sound cool? But however it’s taking shape, the moment invites us to be receptive to its appearance. So many musical possibilities float around the composer, like fireflies at dusk. Tiny lights pulse-glow a rhythm against the gloom, then disappear again as we squint into the empty spaces left by the flying bioluminescences, trying to track their flight and wondering where they’ll appear next. Noticing musical possibilities feels like that.