I wrote down a great idea on a piece of paper the other day and now I can’t find it. (This is exactly why you should only ever type things into a Google Doc.) But in searching through a stack of notebooks, I stumbled across this passage. It’s a creative note to a composer from the singer-songwriter he was composing for, which I frantically scribbled down during a telephone conversation, since at this particular moment it was my job to be a messenger between the two. Here is the note:
one sound, 10 tracks
one note until the bridge
little bit of movement in the bridge, glimmer of tenderness, subtle loving moment of inspiration
quiver and hold
The final product of this note, btw, was pretty great.
The first few years I was here… I would go to New York to visit family and friends. They would say, How do you like it? I would say, It’s really nice, and they would say, It’s got smog and earthquakes and so on. The first few times I would argue and say, No, it’s not that bad. By the fourth year they would start up and I’d say, You’re right, and tell your friends to stay right here. And that’s when I knew I was an Angeleno. As God is my judge.