Hidden in Plain Sight

What I need is a philosophy. If I can manage that then the music will take care of itself. After all, any two-bit twerp with a stick and an empty biscuit tin can make music - and Lord knows most of them do. They're out there, millions of them across the world, like zombies in a George Romero flick: strumming guitars at the acoustic night down the local boozer, knocking out perniciously competent rock in low-rent rehearsal studios, fingering keyboards in wedding reception covers bands, or, like me, tapping away on a computer in splendid isolation - Rock Gods of the bedroom.

It's never been easier to make music. And it's never been easier to put that music out there for public consumption. You'd think this was a good thing, but I'm not so sure. There's an ad for Microsoft running at the moment in which a young indie woman says she's not upset about being dumped by her boyfriend coz it'll give her material for an "album" recorded on her (Microsoft-supported) home studio. For me, the ad conjures up a nightmare vision of a world drowning in adolescent outpourings. The very last thing the world needs is another set of cliches about failed relationships. Soon every time someone steps in dog shit there'll be a song about it on myspace.com. And the net result will be to make it harder to spot the good stuff buried under a mountain of dross. It'll be hidden in plain sight.