Think Of The Ocean
Many of my posts might sound like simple, even obvious, remarks about the music industry or life in general. But I have come to believe that the fundamentals often get buried under layers of overthinking and complication. With the sheer volume of advice online, it is easy to feel paralysed by too many viewpoints.
“Think of the ocean” was my mantra in my late teens and early twenties. I grew up in Geelong and spent most summers at the beach. Later, when I moved to Melbourne, I lived for a while in Sandringham, just two minutes from the water.
As a classic overthinker and catastrophiser, I needed ways to pull myself back from the abyss. At college, conflicting advice was everywhere: teachers, students, guest lecturers. That is not unique to music school, but I sometimes think creative institutions push opinion harder than most because so much of art is subjective. With so many different voices, it is easy to get lost.
When it became too much, I would walk to the beach, look out to sea, and remind myself how vast the world really is compared to my current problem. That simple act shifted my perspective and often helped the answers come more easily.
Making music is essentially spontaneous decision-making. If we freeze at every choice, nothing gets made. That is why it helps to start with a simple philosophy or plan. It becomes your guide when you are unsure, helping you move forward instead of spiralling in indecision.
I have written before about how I thrive when I set clear boundaries in my productions. If my plan does not include a saxophone but I suddenly feel tempted to add one, I remind myself of my original vision. That nudge helps me decide quickly. I might find a creative solution with the instruments already in play. Either way, the decision gets made and I can move on.
The same applies when I am working with songwriters. If they are stuck in overthinking, I often remind them of their starting point. I catch myself too, obsessing over which vocal take to keep, or whether to edit something or leave it alone. More often than not, when I listen back later, I realise the “dilemma” was barely a dilemma at all. The problem only existed in my head.
Sometimes the best cure for overthinking is a reminder of the bigger picture. For me, it was the ocean. For you, it might be something else. Whatever it is, it helps to have a way to step back, reset, and keep moving.
