I'm Talking to Myself
Photograph ©2005 David Bivins
I’ve been talking to myself a lot lately. It’s a structured kind of talk. I imagine that I’m recording one of those TikTok videos where the creator plays two roles; a kind of point-counterpoint. The topic is spending, which is an addiction with which I still suffer.
So far it’s working.
The kind of spending I’m working on is for music gear. This is a known issue, and basically a running joke, among music producers. We call it GAS, or “Gear Acquisition Syndrome.” The simplest way to articulate it is “if I only had ___ instrument, I’d be able to make better music.” This argument is, of course, bullshit. Making music has very little to do with any instrument other than one’s own ability and creativity. I think of the perhaps apocryphal story of Louis Armstrong meeting a young horn player who complains that his instrument is cheap or bad, upon which Armstrong takes it and plays it Satchmo style, thus proving the worry incorrect.
Another argument, much more base and insidious, is “I want that instrument.” It’s an almost unexplainable urge to possess, to collect. My spending habit evolved much more into the later as my income grew over the years. When I didn’t have a lot of gear, it made a lot of sense to desire a particular sound that none of my instruments or effects were able to produce. But today I’m far beyond that. Between advances in computing power and my embarrassingly large number of synthesizers, drum machines, sequencers (devices for arranging and storing musical events—composing aids, if you will) and audio effects units, I am truly only limited by my own abilities and imagination to create or emulate just about any electronic music style.
So what does this dialogue look/sound like?
Drunk on Gear David
I’m really excited about this new sequencer. It’s a little expensive, but I’m going to try to figure out how to get it.
Sober David
Um, you have a lot of sequencers, don’t you? [looks around] I can see at least 12 in this room right now, including one you never even took out of the box yet, and that’s not counting what you can do on your computer and the ones built into some of your synthesizers.
Well, yeah, but this one is handheld. I can take it anywhere.
Of course, but these three here: you got these because they’re portable, didn’t you?
True. But this one is a tracker. It’s a different way of writing.
You mean like this portable tracker you already have? True, it’s not quite as small and you have to use one of those USB phone batteries with it, but you even got a carrying case for it. You already carry it around with you. I’ve seen you use it on the couch and bring it to a café to make music.”
Yes, it’s a lot like that one. But I saw this guy using it on YouTube and it looked like a lot of fun.
You spend a lot of time on YouTube watching people make music, don’t you? I don’t mean to sound rude, but couldn’t you use that time to make music yourself?
I’m working on that! I’ve committed to at least 15 minutes a day to complete small tasks, with the goal of actually finishing songs.
That’s amazing! You should be proud of yourself for getting there.
But I still want it. I have to pre-order it, because with the chip shortage, the guy can’t keep up with demand.
Oh, a PRE-order. That usually doesn’t really work well for you, if I can be honest. I specifically recall several pieces of gear that you pre-ordered, and by the time they came you were like “why the fuck did I get this? I don’t even want it anymore.” And there was that synth that you ordered that you waited four years for, and after two companies had already come out with cheaper, readily-available versions of the same synth, you had to badger the guy to give you a refund because…
I get it, I get it. Sheesh. That’s true. But I think I’d use this one.
Sounds like you really want it. But I wonder if it would just sit on a shelf like so much of this other stuff. Like you’d be really into it for a day, like this one here, and the one over there on the shelf…
Yeah, I wonder that, too.
[End of dialogue]
If nothing else, I’m kind of exhausted by the time I act this all out, and I’ve said these things out loud, which puts them in the universe, and then it would feel perverse to follow through.
I will tell you with complete honesty that I would have these same arguments with myself about buying alcohol, and I (potential sober David) lost almost every time for years. I don’t need to write up another dialogue about that because I suspect that many of you have done the same thing.
The point is that I feel in myself that same paradoxical urge to do the “wrong” thing when it comes to spending. It’s the same urge. When I do spend, I feel a little rush, and then I feel yucky.
Everything in that dialogue is true, by the way. I have set aside time to use the tools I do have. It helps, because every time I write something I really like, I demonstrate to myself that I did it with what I have. For a while I was doing this thing where every week I would use a different set of gear, kind of a justification for having all this gear. I did the same thing with cameras and lenses and different films. After the latter project, I ended up selling off a lot of cameras and lenses and giving away a lot of film (I still have too much of all of those, but it was a start).
I also have to accept, acknowledge, and embrace that I really just love playing with gear. Just like some people love going to the gym or following sports or any other pastime, I am over the moon when I’m digging deep into a synthesizer or drum machine. I’m even happier when I’m completing music on them. These dialogues are helping me center myself on just that: the pleasure of playing with my toys and expressing my creativity through them.
I’ve sold a ton of gear in the last several years, and there’s a ton more on the chopping block. For a lot of it, it’s that closet-cleaning “if I haven’t worn it in a year, it’s out of here,” and there are some things that I’ll never sell because even if I don’t touch them for months (or years), they’re magical when I do. But that might change, too. I’m learning more about myself and evolving every day. Maybe this new commitment to writing music every day will help me focus and get to a realization that it’s the creative process that’s most fulfilling—not having dozens of options to support it.
Or maybe I'll just transfer this paradox to a new obsession. We'll see!
I love you,
David
