How Producing a Spoken Word Album Changed My Perspective
I’m trying to get the audio settings in Zoom setup so that I can host my first ever virtual music studio session. The artist has been waiting for me for about 15 minutes on mute as she watches me scrambling between my audio interface and the app. Finally I hear, “Oh wow that’s loud!” Success! I can now play audio directly from Logic Pro X into Zoom for my newest client (and friend) Faylita Hicks to begin working on her new album. It didn’t quite have a title yet but being able to come up with ideas on the fly and not having to wait for me to email anything over allowed us to create the album “A New Name for My Love.” The main idea for this album was to create a soundscape for her poetry to express in details about the experiences of her past trauma. From being thrown in jail for 40 days for an unpaid parking ticket, the passing of her fiancé, then losing her apartment, job and the rollercoaster that would follow. In the midst of trying to manage it all those experiences would later on allow her to create a project that touches on a lot of heavy subjects. Police brutality, racism, sexism, and homophobia of both the Black and LatinX communities. During this process I started to feel as though I was in the background of it all. Usually it’s me steering the ship, which Fay let me do almost 100% of the way, but this time it felt as though the music was doing it for me. I didn’t second guess anything or use any reference tracks. I just went on gut instinct. As we were wrapping up the final vocal edits it finally dawned on me what this whole experience was about. I wasn’t producing records for playlists, films, or the club. I was producing music with a purpose.
Most artists come to me with ideas either through DM, at a venue, bar, club, or on the dance floor. (Yes, I’ve literally had random people come up to me in the middle of dancing asking me to produce their next single…) This project in particular came via a text from an old college friend with the words “I have this idea for an album.” It’s not unusual for someone who’s known me for a long time to approach me about producing for them but most either want to sing or rap. Fay wanted to do spoken word and I’ve never worked on such a project. The closest I’ve ever come was back in 2014 when me and a guy named MC Lyro (Damon Saunders) were working on his album “HONORED.” Unfortunately, due to funding for the album getting cut and us both having huge life events happening at the same time the album never saw the light of day but Lyro was a well known poet in Houston. Now, I would be working a bigger artist and I have to deliver.
Spoken Word is one of the rawest and nakedest art forms around. No matter how hard the beat is or beautiful the composition is everyone is going to be listening to two things. Your words and the performance of them. We’ve heard plenty or rappers not have either but they can sit in a ‘pocket’ and hide within the beat. No matter the bpm, scale, or time signature the spoken word artist will still deliver in their own cadence. The purpose of the music is to surround the artist and heighten the picture they are painting. If the artist isn’t showing the correct emotion, or lacks it, everyone will hear it. If the words aren’t connecting in a certain way, everyone will know. If the emotion is there and word play is on point but there’s absolutely no message we’ll all see it. So to produce for an artist who has to be great should be a simple task. Not quite. I have to build a house around raw emotion, not just a picture frame. Her words will already bring the furniture, food, toilet paper, clothes, and (yes of course) the kitchen sink. Now I have to build a blueprint for it all so that she can go in and decorate. I also forgot to mention that sometimes, she’ll change a few things and needs a completely new house. (Sometimes on the other side of town). My job is to set her up so that she can deliver a message to an audience that will connect with her to become motivated to change the world. That’s a heavy ask for a guy that was just sitting on over 300 GBs of trap drums and samples. Creating a 2 and 1/2 minute beat is easy. Creating a 7 minute track with multiple changes, ambient sounds, foley, and automation going in every different direction is just a monster on its own.
Once we were done with all the vocal edits my engineer, Chris Varvaro, had to work his magic to bring everything to life sonically. We ran into a few hiccups as Fay had to move from San Marcos, TX over to Las Vegas tugging along her equipment. We both learned how to use what was in the recording and make it great. We even learned that sometimes the best way to mix a record is to make it sound exactly as it’s supposed to sound. She recorded her vocals in the middle of her living room for this record? Good. So let’s bring the audience into the living room instead of trying to fool them into thinking she’s in a state of the art studio. Again, the rawest and nakedest form of art I’ve ever had to deal with. I saved a lot of presets too.
Looking back the success of the album won’t be contingent on the amount of streams, award nominations, or even future opportunities it’ll bring. It’s the fact that a woman from South Central LA decided it was time to put out music that would leave her completely vulnerable. There were no punches pulled. She told absolutely everything there was to tell about her story. In doing so, she’s created a conversation with a multitude of women about their own experiences being in prison, losing the one they love, or being Black/LatinX in this country. There were a few times where the words struck a chord I didn’t even know was there. It made me question if I’d ever want a daughter in today’s world. A different perspective and one that I respect. This album has made me think differently about the music I produce. No, I don’t think every artist should find a hill to scream about their views but I do feel it is my duty to help them explain their story. I’ve worked with alcoholics, drug addicts, rape victims, and people who’ve survived child abuse along with a couple of near death experiences. The records aren’t about me and to be honest I’m not sure if they’re about the artist either. Depending on how technology evolves, these records will be here long after we’re gone. It’s a chilling thought of the possibility that some kid in 2061 is going to listen to this record and be motivated to make a positive change. Thoughts like that is what has lead me to believe that producing music is duty, not a passion. I may be a vessel to help someone one day change their life. With this new perspective it’s going to be easy for me to keep going even I’m tired. It’s not about me, it’s not about the artist, it’s about the record.
Fading into the background doesn’t sound so bad after all.
