My problem with playing music has always been that I could never record the music that I used to play. There are a few reasons for it. The first reason is that I was never happy with the quality of the recording. It really puts me off to listen to the recorded music and find out that it's nothing compared to how it actually sounds when I play live. The second reason was probably psychological as I practice each piece hundreds of times until I'm happy with my performance and then I make mistakes everytime I try to record. It is usually a minor mistake, some times as much as a buzz from one of the strings, but I always wanted it to be perfect, and knowing that I could play each piece perfectly at other times make me always un happy with the recorded performance. This started growing more and more in my mind preventing me from even trying to record.
I have recently started thinking that I can play better than many people with videos on Youtube and I have studied the theory of music along with the techniques required for the guitar and no one even knows that I play. I don't really play for other people but rather for myself, so I am recording for my own records. There may come a day (and it will come) when I'm not able to play anymore. These videos will be my memories then.
To satisfy my self I have pruchased some professional gear to assist me recording my music, so I don't think that I will have any excuse not to play and record music from now on.
Tamer 11/04/2013
About Me
- Gypo
- Brisbane, Queensland, Australia
- Each thing I do I rush through so I can do something else. In such a way do the days pass - a blend of stock car racing and the never ending building of a gothic cathedral. Through the windows of my speeding car, I see all that I love falling away: books unread, jokes untold, landscapes unvisited. And why? What treasure do I expect in my future? Rather it is the confusion of childhood loping behind me, the chaos in the mind, the failure chipping away at each success. Glancing over my shoulder I see its shape and so move forward, as someone in the woods at night might hear the sound of approaching feet and stop to listen, then, instead of silence he hears some creature trying to be silent. What else can he do but run? Rushing blindly down the path, stumbling, struck in the face by sticks; the other ever closer, yet not really hurrying or out of breath, teasing its kill.
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