Hathaway
Someday, We'll All Be Free
Anyone who follows my posts from time to time, knows I do R&B music. I consider myself very talented. I know for a fact I'm more talented than maybe 80% of current R&B acts out today. I just made some unfortunate mistakes in my life that prevented me from pursuing that dream. I fukked up.
From 2007-2017, I use to record on this raggedy ass Tascam DP01 8 track mixer. I would haul that mixer out to my parents shed in the backyard with my microphone and all them cables. I would get one of my stepdads long ass orange extension cords and stretch it out from an outlet on our patio, across our yard and into that shed to plug all my shyt up.
In the summer, I would be in that bytch with the doors shut and a portable fan blowing hot air to try and stay cool. I would sweat. I would be in there for 5-8 hours at a time laying down a song tryna get it perfect as I heard it in my mind.
In the winter, no heat. I would bundle up and record in 30 degree weather. Two jackets, a scarf, sweats and gloves. Fingers would be frozen. Could hear myself sniffling through the recordings. Voice dry from the cold air. But I loved it. It really was my life.
Couldn't record during the day because the mic would pick up traffic and neighbors passing by. nikkas mowing they lawn. Kids shouting and playing. I would have to wait until nightfall. But even still, couldnt be too loud cause my neighbors had a dog that would bark if he heard me singing too loudly.
I have so many recordings where you can hear dogs barking in the background or the wind howling, rain and thunder. But I was passionate. I would lose myself in that music. Didn't care how hot I was or how cold I was. I was passionate about the art.
In my early 20s, I worked at a movie theater and I would close on weekends. We would close down around midnight and get outta there around 1am. I remember leaving work, coming home and setting up my studio around and staying in there recording a song until the sun came up around 6am. I had no sense of time. It was like it didnt exist. I was in my element. I loved doing it. My gf would joke and say you worked an 8hr shift just to go home and record a song for another 8hrs.
I wasn't trying to get famous or make money. I just loved the beauty of creating something from scratch, putting it together and watching it materialize into this body of work. It was an emotional process for me. It still is.
Whenever we create something that only had form as a vision in our mind and we give it reality, its emotional. This came from inside of you. You birthed it. These are your experiences and emotions given form. This is art. This is passion.
In those days, I had the time to lose myself in it. These days, with a full family and full time job, those moments escape me. I'm relegated to maybe 2 hours of alone time to devote to creating. On weekends, I burn myself out staying up late into the night, 2am 3am on my laptop, trying to fight sleep and exhaustion from work and kids and devote time to the art. My wife would often wake up in the middle of night and beg me to come to bed.
I can literally feel my eyes burning sometimes as my body is pleading with me to shut it down and sleep. I'm no longer 22. My body isn't what it used to be. It needs rest. But I need to release into this music. I harbor a lot of pain and emotion of regret and failure. It really soothes the mind to stroke the keys of the piano. To hum a sweet melody and give words to that melody. It's also painful knowing I cannot devote the necessary time to healing myself through this process anymore.
From 2007-2017, I use to record on this raggedy ass Tascam DP01 8 track mixer. I would haul that mixer out to my parents shed in the backyard with my microphone and all them cables. I would get one of my stepdads long ass orange extension cords and stretch it out from an outlet on our patio, across our yard and into that shed to plug all my shyt up.
In the summer, I would be in that bytch with the doors shut and a portable fan blowing hot air to try and stay cool. I would sweat. I would be in there for 5-8 hours at a time laying down a song tryna get it perfect as I heard it in my mind.
In the winter, no heat. I would bundle up and record in 30 degree weather. Two jackets, a scarf, sweats and gloves. Fingers would be frozen. Could hear myself sniffling through the recordings. Voice dry from the cold air. But I loved it. It really was my life.
Couldn't record during the day because the mic would pick up traffic and neighbors passing by. nikkas mowing they lawn. Kids shouting and playing. I would have to wait until nightfall. But even still, couldnt be too loud cause my neighbors had a dog that would bark if he heard me singing too loudly.
I have so many recordings where you can hear dogs barking in the background or the wind howling, rain and thunder. But I was passionate. I would lose myself in that music. Didn't care how hot I was or how cold I was. I was passionate about the art.
In my early 20s, I worked at a movie theater and I would close on weekends. We would close down around midnight and get outta there around 1am. I remember leaving work, coming home and setting up my studio around and staying in there recording a song until the sun came up around 6am. I had no sense of time. It was like it didnt exist. I was in my element. I loved doing it. My gf would joke and say you worked an 8hr shift just to go home and record a song for another 8hrs.
I wasn't trying to get famous or make money. I just loved the beauty of creating something from scratch, putting it together and watching it materialize into this body of work. It was an emotional process for me. It still is.
Whenever we create something that only had form as a vision in our mind and we give it reality, its emotional. This came from inside of you. You birthed it. These are your experiences and emotions given form. This is art. This is passion.
In those days, I had the time to lose myself in it. These days, with a full family and full time job, those moments escape me. I'm relegated to maybe 2 hours of alone time to devote to creating. On weekends, I burn myself out staying up late into the night, 2am 3am on my laptop, trying to fight sleep and exhaustion from work and kids and devote time to the art. My wife would often wake up in the middle of night and beg me to come to bed.
I can literally feel my eyes burning sometimes as my body is pleading with me to shut it down and sleep. I'm no longer 22. My body isn't what it used to be. It needs rest. But I need to release into this music. I harbor a lot of pain and emotion of regret and failure. It really soothes the mind to stroke the keys of the piano. To hum a sweet melody and give words to that melody. It's also painful knowing I cannot devote the necessary time to healing myself through this process anymore.
