Whitechapel

Make it stand out

Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.

I remember the train into London.

It was early and I was moving, technically. The train was moving, people were moving, London was waiting at the other end, but I didn't really feel like I had started yet.

There was nothing particularly wrong. I wasn't upset. I wasn't exhausted. I wasn't trying to get away from anything.

I just felt slightly behind myself. I knew what I needed to do that day. I knew where I was going and what was expected of me. Everything was there. I just didn't feel ready to step into it.

I kept noticing that. It was almost like there was a small delay between knowing something and actually being able to move towards it. I have felt that before. You can spend a surprising amount of time knowing you need to start something while still finding reasons not to begin. Sometimes there isn't even a reason. You just haven't crossed that line yet.

That was where my head was when I started this session.

I don't think I consciously connected the two things at first. I just started putting music together and noticed that I was listening differently.

Normally I can become quite deliberate with a mix. I know what I'm looking for. I can start thinking about where something should go, what it needs to do, whether a track belongs, whether the energy is right.

That wasn't really happening this time.

I was listening for a reaction.

It was usually very small.

A track would come in and something would change. Not necessarily excitement. Sometimes I would just become slightly more present. I'd sit forward. I'd listen a little more closely. Something would hold my attention for a few seconds longer than the thing before it.

That was enough.

If I didn't feel anything change, I moved on.

So there was a lot of stopping and starting. Listening. Changing something. Going back. Trying something else.

Sometimes I couldn't tell whether I was getting anywhere.

It would be easy to look at the finished session afterwards and imagine there was a clear process behind it, but there wasn't. I was feeling my way through it.

I think I was looking for the point where listening stopped feeling like something I was doing and started becoming something I was inside.

It happened gradually.

The music became more persistent without becoming bigger. I wasn't looking for a huge moment where everything suddenly opened up. I think I would have lost the feeling if I'd pushed it that way.

Things just started to feel easier.

I noticed I wasn't questioning every decision anymore. I wasn't thinking quite so much about whether I was doing it right.

One track led to another and I didn't have to keep stepping outside the session to assess it.

I was just listening.

And that was the same feeling I'd noticed on the train.

Except now I had crossed the line.

I had started.

Nothing dramatic had happened. I hadn't fixed anything. I hadn't made some decision that changed my life. I hadn't suddenly found a reserve of energy that wasn't there before.

I had just stopped waiting. I think that's what stayed with me. How little the difference actually was. There wasn't a moment where I could point to something and say, that's when I changed.

I just became slightly more involved in what I was doing. The train was still moving. London was still waiting. The things I needed to do that day were still there.

But I wasn't watching myself from a distance anymore.

I was in it.

I don't think I understood any of that while I was making the session. I wasn't trying to make a statement about movement or motivation.

I was just trying to find something that felt right.

Maybe that's why I like coming back to this one.

There are days when starting feels harder than it should. Nothing is necessarily wrong. There isn't always a problem to solve. Sometimes there is just that strange distance between knowing you need to move and actually moving.

I know that feeling.

And I know now that sometimes it doesn't take much to cross it.

A track. Another track. A small change in attention. And then suddenly you're moving.

By the end, I wasn't looking for the feeling anymore.

I was just listening. That's probably all there is to it.

I started.