A few weeks ago I embarked upon a great cleaning adventure.
The studio is one area I’ve never bothered tidying up much. I didn’t think it needed the work. Unlike my perpetual disaster of a bedroom, it’s one spot that never seems to get very messy. It almost seems to keep itself in check because of the nature of what I’m doing in the room. I probably wouldn’t be able to work in there so often and so easily if it got too chaotic.
It turns out six years of occasional half-assed cleanings without any serious ass-destroying cleanings will take their toll, though. And just because a space looks tidy doesn’t mean it’s so.
It took a few days of intermittent work, but I got things looking better in there than they ever have before. Tripping hazards were addressed and nullified. Piles of backup CDs were labeled and organized. Dust was encountered. Wars were waged. Hearts were eaten. And a whole lot of pieces of electrical tape were cut and written on with Sharpie marker.
A saner person would have picked up a patch bay by now. A saner person would do a lot of things I haven’t done and don’t intend to do. I never came around to the idea of rack-mounting my gear. I tried once. It looked funny to me. It felt funny too. I prefer to pile things up on a massive desk so I can lean in and let them all surround me. All I need are some pieces of coloured tape to let me know what’s plugged into what and I’m good.
The thing is, a lot of those pieces of tape have not aged well. Most of them still retain some adhesive properties, but in some cases the ink has faded far past the point of legibility. So I re-labeled everything, and labeled some things that had never been labeled before, and now I know the source location of every active patch cord — something you’d think I would have taken care of a long time ago. For the first time I know where everything is going and/or coming from. That should help things run a little smoother from here.
A sample of some of the old tape I peeled off of patch cords and replaced:
I wish I’d taken before and after pictures, because I doubt I’ll ever let things deviate much from how organized they are now, and the transformation was subtle but still capable of inducing a medium-strength erection. Instead, here’s a picture of a shelf in the stock room. The cleaning momentum carried over upstairs, and I thought I should take a crack at the mess that room had turned into.
All the inserts and booklets that were scattered on the floor are now arranged like so:
Every box is stuffed with inserts/booklets, and they’re a lot deeper than the picture makes them look. The two black boxes on top alone probably hold inserts for twenty different albums between them.
It’s a little strange knowing where everything is after getting used to having to do a lot of guessing and digging. It’s a nice change, though.
Elsewhere, the mysterious album of stuff I am recording that I did not write myself is just about finished. A few songs just need a little tweaking and remixing, and then I will turn my attention back to this ANGLE OF BEST DISTANCE behemoth. Would it surprise you to know that the whole thing has shifted yet again, and the track list I started to carve out on the in-progress album page is going right out the window?