I was hugely surprised to open the door yesterday afternoon upon hearing a rather timid knock to find a courier there with a package for me which I had ordered barely twenty four hours before. Yes, it had come from a very large online retailer with possibly dubious tax practices and invasive knowledge of the personal lives of most people on the planet, but Shepton is short of specialist electrical retailers, so please forgive me.
The said piece of equipment was the last little bit that I needed to set up a very rudimentary recording studio – laptop, keyboards, leads, audio interface – so I fiddled with a few wires and then multitracked a little bit of Bohemian Rhapsody, just for fun. By the evening there was much more up and running and I was playing with virtual drumkits. but there is no doubt that I shall need to sit down with the chunky manual for the software at some point.
The main purpose of this past week’s upgrades is to enable me to record The Book Of Hours in as professional and clear a fashion as possible so that it can be made available as the soundtrack for the eponymous card game. Play it before, during or between, whenever you like, but you should expect the sound to be clear and to a high standard.
However, what I thought would be a fairly simple compositional matter looks as though it might now become something a little more convoluted, for I am now thinking of adding all sorts of details to the basic piano file. It could certainly do with maybe a distant bell here, the sound of thunder there, a couple of things to rattle the nerves.
Ultimately the digital sky is the limit, and I imagine that the big issue will be knowing when to stop adding textures, but I should probably keep that Brahmsian idea in mind, that a piece is only finished when you cannot remove anything else. However it ends up going, it is all quite exciting.
A knock-on effect of this is that I need to clear some space in my room, and it looks as though the digital organ might have to go. I bought this about fifteen years ago to work myself up to speed for a live TV broadcast (they eventually cut me after fifteen seconds and spelled my name incorrectly) in that period when I was a Cathedral organist, but I do less of that nowdays and, crucially, have access to various instruments anyway. As it takes up a huge proportion of my room, a proportion into which a mini-studio would fit nicely, it needs to go, even if it feels like turning the page on a chapter of my life.