Hey Reader,

I once set up a band for a level check. Nothing serious, just get the mics roughly right before we started for real. I asked them to run through their most energetic song so I could get some sound in the room, check for peak levels, make sure I had no dud cables, etc.

I learnt right back in the beginning to record everything, so as always I hit record. If for nothing else I could play it back for the band to see if they were happy with the overall sound.

This time, they were on fire, so much so that the guitarist leant into one of the drum overheads and shouted that they wanted to just go for it because they were vibing. I hit record again and gave them the thumbs up through the window. But that take never quite landed. Take after take. I kept resetting, hitting record again. Some fell apart halfway through. Others they'd listen back to and pick apart. In general the drums and bass just weren't locking together, and that's the core of the sound. Everything else can be easily overdubbed, but if the rhythm isn't there, the melody has nowhere to land. So time after time, they'd say, "let's go again."

Two hours in, everyone was tired and starting to overthink every note. I told them to take five minutes in the garden, get some distance from it.

While they were out there, I quietly loaded up the very first recording. The level check. Didn't tell them what it was.

When they came back in, I just said let's listen to where we're at.

They loved it.

Nobody could tell me what was different about it, because nothing was different about it technically. It was rougher than anything we'd done since. But it was alive in a way the polished takes weren't.

We kept the drums, bass, and guitar from that first pass. Fixed a couple of bass mistakes, dropped a solo on top, did fresh vocals. Done before lunch.

Faster than the two hours of takes and playbacks that came before it, and better.

Here's the part that still gets me. They'd already played the take that worked. They just didn't know it yet, because they were busy trying to improve on it.

I've thought about that session a lot since. How much of what we call improving something is really just wearing away at it, waiting for permission to stop.

The song was never the problem. The problem was believing the best version had to be harder to earn than that.

Mark
The Quiet Rebel
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P.S. Sometimes you just need a second set of ears to tell you the bit you're obsessing over is actually fine. That's what I was for that band in the garden. It's also what the Finish Line Challenge is at its core, a small group of musicians on the same journey, all working on their own music, there to tell each other "that's the take" when you can't hear it yourself.

​THE FINISH LINE CHALLENGE​