Trifecta
*Something seem different? I switched to Substack to publish my newsletters. Besides that, nothing has changed. Have a great Friday :)
Weekly Three
HEAR: “Harmony Hall” by Vampire Weekend
READ: Ted Gioia wrote a fantastic (and logically air-tight) article on how the record industry is digging its own grave by banking on TikTok to save their industry. He also notes how, now more than ever, artists can bypass traditional gatekeepers.
VIEW: I made an Instagram reel of yesterday’s 70 mile bike ride to Chicago. I was hesitant to jump on the reel/TikTok train for a while. Not sure why. They’re really fun.
No. 76: Trifecta
Any longtime reader of this newsletter has probably figured out that I’m a man of passions, or, put more negatively, obsessions that begin innocuously enough before totally taking over my life. This could be a Matt-only trait, but I find that highly unlikely. You too have probably experienced life-monopolizing passions, and might even be in the midst of one right now.
It must be a symptom of soul searching. We find something we like to do, and we identify with it. This process usually happens one passion at a time, since it’s easier to identify with one than many, the same way it’s easier to brand oneself on social media as a Writer, an Illustrator, a Musician, or an Athlete than it is to be, outwardly, a Writer-Illustrator-Musician-Athlete.
That tendency for being singularly something isn’t bad. Actually, it’s beautiful to look at us, going along in life, trying different things, and loving them so much they become the main constituent of our being. That’s a strong love.
So, if you are in the throes of a passion, go on, do your thing, explore it fully. And don’t worry if you’re becoming a bit unbalanced — if your new love is taking over your life — because I’ve just discovered some exciting news: in time, you’ll level out.
I’m proof.
Yesterday, for the first time I can remember, three of my passions came together in a single day.
Most recently, I was fanatical about reading. This was followed by a deep addiction for biking. And that addiction was followed by a relapse of compulsive music-making and music-listening. These three did not co-exist. I mean, in little ways they did. But mostly they didn’t. It was months reading, months of biking, months of music, and the time dedicated to each was neatly partitioned.
But yesterday I read part of a novel and some Robert Creeley and Shakespeare poems; I recorded a DJ set that I happened to execute perfectly (woo!); and I rode my bike from my house in the suburbs to Chicago (a distance of about 70 miles).
I completed a passion trifecta, and it felt sublime. For so long, my passions have been in a waveform-like flux, with one rising to the surface, falling, then giving way to another. But at the moment the velocity of those waveforms is returning to equilibrium. Each form is aware of the other, and their patterns are syncing, approaching alignment.
There’s something bigger in this phenomenon, something that exposes a tiny, shining sliver of the soul, I think.
In a big world, it takes time to discover what’s right for us and what’s wrong. Some things are obvious: we hear a song, see a painting, watch a movie, and know that there is something within us called to create. Likewise, we sometimes try on a new identity , realize it doesn’t vibe, and fling it off for good.
But other discoveries harder, and these are the nuanced ones — the ones that really count. They take trial, practice, and development. They feel almost in sync with our soul’s disposition, but not quite, requiring us to drop them and pick them up again until something clicks — or doesn’t. And some things, even when we know they are right for us, only explain part of the story, so we have to keep on searching for the rest.
Yesterday felt like I received the first big payoff from all my searches and explorations over the past few years. As it turns out, I do love three things I thought love, and deeply. Each of these clicked into place at once, none of them vying for a top position from which to suppress the others. They became parts of me that will stay the rest of my life.
I wish I had known — while I was stressing about how little I was reading; when I was concerned about my diminished desire to ride my bike; when I was worried that music would conflict with my writing — that there was never anything to worry about.
When it comes to matters of happiness and contentment, there’s never anything to worry about as long as we continue the search, and go fearlessly wherever it leads. ♦
Mailbox
Hey Matt, I followed the link to your recording in your recent newsletter, “Musically challenged.” I had a listen to some of your music on Soundcloud, impressive. You clearly know what you're doing. Very professional sounding. Lots of changes, interesting rhythms, introduction of new elements, fades and transitions.
The first sampled vocal, female, sounds like the girl from Sylvan Esso. Is it or is it something else? I really like the way you worked her voice in and through that section, finding balance between repetition and variation introducing new elements, fading others out then bringing them back in or morphing into something new.
But why call it an "imperfect assignment . . . "? Of course it's imperfect, that's a given. We're all striving but never arriving. The title distracts from the clearly capable craft you're exhibiting. Polished and smooth, you know when it's time to change it up and when to leave it alone. You've been playin with this stuff for a while, that's for sure. Carries you along, just when you're getting tired of one thing, here comes something else. Intriguing. And good.
— Fred
Fred! Thank you so much for listening. Sadly, I don’t know the name of the female vocalist in the sample. But! I do know the name of the track, if you want to give it a listen or do some investigation. It’s called, “The Semimodular Bird of Jazz” by Felipe Gordon.
I’m glad you liked the transitions. This is one of the funnest things about DJing: finding songs that naturally jive, then splicing them together. It’s sonically beautiful, technically fun, and provides great excuse — not that an excuse is needed — to rifle through the world’s music libraries for new and interesting tunes.
You’re right about my title. Surely it came from an insecurity about some of the not-so-smooth transitions. (There’s one right at the beginning). I rationalized it by thinking about how many artists in a digital age have it very easy when it comes to burying their older, crappier work, and how they should show it instead. Seeing the beginnings of popular artists could be inspiring to those that are just starting out. But that doesn’t mean I should intentionally demean my own work. Thank you for confirming something I felt deep down. I’ll quit that sorry act.
Thanks again, Fred.