Every time a new piece of software related to home studio recording is released, I want to learn about it. It makes sense that new software or a new skill I’d learn could make my recordings sound better, right? That’s the upside. What’s the downside?
The downside is getting stuck in a never-ending cycle of setting release deadlines, then rescheduling those deadlines because I’m learning something new that will make everything sound better. Then rescheduling those deadlines because I’m learning some other new thing…over and over again.
Even if it’s true that my music will sound better, if I don’t have a hard deadline, I’ll spend the rest of my life pursuing the “perfect” album no one will hear.
Add to that, whenever I release my album, I’m also quite certain that if I play the album for 10 high-end recording engineers or even home studio guys like me taking classes about how to mix and master, that 1 or even all 10 will find something that could be improved. And they might be right.
I realized that if I’m afraid of being wrong, I’ll never get the chance to find out if I’m right.
I had to remember my original goal: Release an album on the streaming services that is mixed and mastered to a “competitive, indie artist level,” which I define as a level at which the average listener would not be distracted by any of my mixing or mastering choices. I believe I achieved goal–even though I’m sure some would disagree.
The truth about mixing and mastering to a “competitive, indie artist level” is that most actual listeners (not professional and home studio engineers) have a pretty broad spectrum of acceptance. That doesn’t mean they will like my songs. It only means that if they don’t like them, mixing and mastering flaws aren’t the reason.
When I edit a novel, I first do a general edit (to look for major flaws, inconsistencies, etc.). Then a do a serious, take-my-time-and-get-it-right edit. Then I’ll do a final line edit to catch the little things that are harder to catch. After that, I let it alone for a few days or a week, and then do a final polish. At that point I need to let it go because I know–I really know–that I could edit the same novel for the rest of my life and every time through I can add something to make it better. But I realized a long time ago that these additional edits do not change the reader’s experience of the novel. It’s the same story, but with some writing flourishes that probably only I would notice.
The same is true with my songs. I could tinker with them forever. But when I played the songs for people, the overwhelming majority couldn’t really tell the difference between versions. Ultimately, if as long as I like the song, and the metrics are correct, then it’s time set the songs loose into the world.