Have you ever spent weeks (or months) tweaking a song that just isn’t working, but you can’t bring yourself to scrap it?
I did this recently with a remote drum track for a client, tweaking and editing bits and pieces in an attempt to manufacture exactly what I was hearing in my head. It took me too many days of too many hours in the studio before I came to terms with the fact that my best course of action would be to delete everything, start from scratch, and go an entirely different direction with the whole thing.
In all honesty, it felt a little liberating to hit that DELETE button and, in the end, I created an altogether better track for the song.
Most of us have, at one time or another, clung onto a piece of gear, a practice routine, or some approach at music making simply because we’ve invested time and effort into it in the past. We can often overlook the fact that, sometimes, it’s no longer serving us.
Just this weekend, I heard audio of speaker Jim Rohn saying something along the lines of:
Let things serve but not intrude.
He was speaking on the importance of allowing the things in our lives (objects and/or methods) to be useful and the equal importance of not allowing them to disrupt or distract us.
If you are holding onto something (or likely, many somethings) that you should really let go of, then you, my friend, may very well be under the spell of The IKEA Effect.
The IKEA Effect is a cognitive bias where people to tend overvalue things they’ve personally invested effort into, even if those things aren’t actually any good. It comes as no surprise that the name comes from IKEA furniture and I’m willing to bet that you already know where I’m going with this . . .
It’s possible that you love that janky, crooked bookshelf not because it’s the best, but because you built it yourself. You drove across the city, fought your way through that behemoth of a store, ate Swedish meatballs and lingonberry jam, hauled that heavy box back home, pulled it apart, worked your way through those cartoon assembly instructions (or didn’t), and bored the painful shape of that Allen key into the sides of your fingers.
Sure the shelves are warping a bit now and some of the pegs are popping through the particle board, but isn’t that charming? I mean, you made that thing!
As musicians, we fall into this trap all. the. time.
Holding onto songs that should be scrapped: That one song you’ve rewritten 20 times now? It might be time to cut it loose (even for a while) and focus on writing a better different one.
Overworking a mix to death: There’s a reason that producers often say: “mixes aren’t finished; they’re abandoned.” If you’re endlessly tweaking EQ settings, you might be well beyond the point of diminishing returns and firmly stuck in the loop of The IKEA Effect.
Clinging onto gear because we’ve “had It forever”: Maybe that amp that you once felt was your signature sound, really isn’t anymore. After sinking years into praising its tone to everyone within earshot, admitting that it’s no longer fitting the bill for you can feel like a loss. But hear me out on this . . . it’s okay to let go and step away from the amp.
Keeping a practice routine that no longer serves you: Just because you’ve been practicing the same way for years doesn’t mean it’s still the most effective approach for where you’re currently at. Does the plan you’ve always used still meet the requirements of your career? Is it still pushing your technical abilities? If so, great! If not, it may be time to re-evaluate things.
No disrespect to Ingvar Kamprad (the I.K. of IKEA) but you need to break free of that nonsense. At least musically. Go ahead and keep the bookshelf.
Here are a few ways that you can start:
Detach before you judge.
When time allows, step away from a recorded track, song, mix, or idea for a week. Listen again later with fresh ears. If you weren’t attached to it, if you hadn’t been the one who created this, would you still keep it?
Establish a “Kill Your Darlings” rule.
Every month (or week?), pick one song, habit, or piece of gear to let go of if it’s no longer serving you. (psst––you might check the closet while you’re at it, too)
Play the “Less Perfection/More Songs” game.
Instead of obsessing over a single track, commit to writing one song per week. Quantity often leads to quality. Maybe this won’t always be the way you want to go about things, but a different approach for a while could bring about different results.
Question it all.
Look around this week at the things you have, do, say, and think. In regards to each that you become aware of, ask yourself: Is this actually making me better, or am I just attached to it? If it’s the latter—let it go.
What’s on the chopping block for you? Tell me in a short comment below and then close this and get to it!
Happy music making–
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