When Will I Know My Hobby Has Run Its Course?

When I’m out of songs, I guess.  That’s the first thing that popped into my mind.  I still have some ideas for a few more, and if history is a guide, even more will show up after that.  Once you have an idea, a song almost writes itself.  Whether any will be any good or not is also anyone’s guess.  I can’t say I’ve written a really good song yet, and I know that my best come at the expense of many that were far from it.

That’s just the way this hobby goes, but it’s fun to try.  No one tells me how bad I am either.  I suppose that’s another thing that keeps me going.  Without negative reviews or anyone telling me I should hang it up, I’m in a constant state of bliss, thinking all along that the streaming counts will increase eventually.  At some point you have to understand you’re just not good enough to ever get any more popular than you already have, and that day may have already come and gone for me, I just don’t know it yet.

The Latest Release

I’m posting this a couple weeks after dropping a new album that I didn’t think was one of my best.  It has done well (for me) despite what I predicted.  Surprisingly well.  So far, I gained 49 new unique listeners on Spotify since my release, with no promotion whatsoever.  I don’t understand it.  The attention freaks me out a little, not sure why, and the feeling is uncomfortable for some reason.  Now I find myself wondering what I get out of this, and I worry that attention can bring shade throwing.  The little charge you get from noticing the stream counts are higher than you anticipated wears off quickly.

The new album is exceeding my expectations, and it was truly a “release” of a bunch of songs I felt I needed to get out to people - to get them out of the way so I could move on to others.  A lot of them had been finished for a while, and were just sitting there on my computer after I previously weeded them out from past album releases.  I toiled over whether to let anyone hear any of them or not, so it’s also a “relief” to take them out of the consideration batch.

It’s hard to believe that I could gain any momentum from this set of songs, but apparently, I have.  On the other hand, if my audience only grows by 50 people per new album, I could easily look at that as very slow fanbase growth and an indicator I should move on to another hobby.

Perseverance Pays

I’ve heard it said that just when you’re thinking about throwing in the towel, it’s the moment when things start to turn around.  But I’ve also heard that sometimes winning means knowing when to stop playing the game.  I don’t do it to win at anything though.  The hobby itself running its course may happen, but isn’t likely.  However, I may decide it doesn’t make sense to keep sharing my songs publicly.  There’s a lot of effort in doing everything myself to release the music, and hardly any reward at all.  I like being able to say I’ve never done any marketing at all, as if in the back of my mind that’s the reason my music hasn’t caught on more.  I’ve almost convinced myself of this, but reality bites.

I’m not on the lookout for publicity in any way.  I really enjoy being under the radar.  I’m a behind-the-scenes kind of guy by nature.  One could argue if you don’t crave the spotlight, then why do it?  I think I do it because I don’t have the courage to do all the networking necessary to be a songwriter for someone else, so I’m an artist myself.  But I would hate being a public figure.  Generating spectacles, stirring up controversy, or executing carefully planned stunts are not something I’ll ever do (intentionally).  Sensationalism works, but it’s not for me.  I’m not going to court influencers either.  I’d like for the music to get more attention, but not me personally.

The music I make isn’t the type that is likely to ever be very popular, but it occurs to me that maybe it’s as popular as it is so far because of that very fact.  Maybe the perseverance really is actually starting to pay off as I stick with my style and what works for me.  My music has some cringe-worthiness.  It can be awkward.  Makes people squirm a little.  I know this, and can’t help it.  It has a very amateur quality.  It’s not going to be for everyone, and it’s not going to go viral.  

It’s the opposite of cool, probably.  I’m a chill person who doesn’t try too hard, and I like to remain somewhat detached and maintain a mystique.  All that said, I lean into the overly earnest, and the slightly weird.  Although it might make people feel a little uncomfortable, some actually like this aspect of it.  People who are sick of the slick, overproduced, corporate-perfect branding crave realness and authenticity.  They get into it because it feels human to them.  Maybe my style is becoming a vogue thing.

I remind myself that:  "If it's not fun, stop doing it."  I'm sure I'm not the first person to state something like this, but you can quote me on it as being core to my philosophy when it comes to music.  Everyone is different, and that's okay.  People have tolerance levels for certain things that are different from other people's.  Writing and recording songs is fun, the rest is not for me.  

If I devoted tons of time and effort on networking and marketing, and it still didn’t work, then I’d know the songs and recordings are just not good enough and I should give up.  So, instead of trying that, I keep the hobby public and have the built-in excuse for failure by saying I don’t try very hard, and keeping a thought in the back of my mind that it would’ve worked if only I’d been able to put up with promoting myself.  I really do despise the marketing part of it, particularly anything having to do with social media, but I do everything myself, and it can be overwhelming.

What I Do

I've done a lot, and my involvement in music has been completely self-contained.  I get a charge out of trying to figure out things on my own without anyone's help.  A satisfying sense of accomplishment is an enjoyable feeling.  I write the songs, the lyrics and the music, I record myself singing them and playing all the instruments, I arrange them, I do the engineering, the production, the mixing and the mastering.  I upload them to the distributor.  I created and maintain my own website and blog, both of which contain only content I wrote or created.  I create my own music videos, produce them and upload them myself, but I do use free footage instead of creating my own visual content to go with my music.  Then I announce all of the above on social media when I release a new album.  I've done 13 of them now.  It's a lot.

What Else Could I Do?

When you're an independent solo artist who self-releases music, you occasionally wonder how you could get more fans and earn more money.  Naturally, your next step to satisfy that curiosity is to google it (or ask artificial intelligence).  You try to sift through the results to find the most reputable sources of advice, and then you try to discern what advice most of the expert advice-givers all have in common with each other.

Fan Nurturing

There are a lot of words the marketing experts use here:  engaging, connecting, bonding, nurturing, etc.  Establishing superfan communities, using Patreon to exchange exclusive stuff for financial support, etc.  As a fan of other artists, I’ve never thought to do any of this kind of thing.  I just wait until they have new music out, listen to it, and that’s about it.  Maybe I’m wrong, and if I offered a Scott Cooley t-shirt on my website, it would somehow make me way more popular.

Since I don’t play live, I don’t have the opportunity to hang out and chat with fans after a show.  If I did, I would.  I understand that if I see a show, then get an opportunity to actually meet an artist afterward, and think they were a good person to chat with for a second, that I would be more inclined to recommend that artist to someone else.  

I’d rather be the type of artist that other people surmise is probably a nice guy without knowing for sure.  Letting it remain a bit of a mystery is better.  From what I can tell, my fans are loyal, and I could always use more, but I’m just not willing to put in the work the experts advise would help in this regard.  

I just do what I do, and I’m not into building a “brand.”  I dislike even hearing the word “branding”.  I picked a couple photos of myself for my website, and chose some colors and fonts, and that’s it.  No desire to go beyond that with a photo shoot and short tiktok dance videos or behind the scenes stuff.  I could show people my microphone and acoustic guitar, show how the audio interface is plugged into my computer, etc., but it would be really boring.

People have commented on my music-related social media posts before, and I’ve responded to a few, but not all.  That’s kind of where I draw the line.  It can be ridiculous and silly to spend tons of time responding to each and every one.  I’m a broadcast-only, one-way communicator on socials.  I want to sign in, post my self-promotional stuff, then quickly sign out so I don’t have to deal.  My comfort level is to only post things and not be a reactive person who gets involved in any discussions at all.  I don’t care at all to read anyone else’s posts about anything.  If someone sends me a private message, it’s sometimes a year later or more that I sign back in to respond to it, because I dislike social media in general.

The Neil Young Example

Engagement seems to be a big deal, and I sort of don’t get it.  I’m a lifelong fan of Neil Young, for example, but I don’t want to “engage” or “connect” with him in any way.  With any artist I like, the only thing I like is their music.  I just wait ‘till they release more, then I listen to it.  That’s it.  Maybe buy a ticket to a concert.  Never anything beyond that.  No desire whatsoever.  I mean, it would be cool and all if I got introduced to Neil and got to hang out with him a bit and shoot the breeze a little, don’t get me wrong.  Seems like a cool dude a good guy and everything.  

But, with any music artist I like, I’m not out to get exclusive stuff from them or exchange some sort of messages with them or anything like that.  I don’t want their autograph or their email address or to buy VIP backstage passes so I can meet them after a show.  I don’t want to comment on something they post online and then hope they comment back to my comment.  Same goes for any celebrity or hero or famous person.  If I meet someone and discover they also like Neil, I’ll talk about my favorite songs or albums with the person, but I don’t need to join his fan club or some forum to chat with other fans about all things Neil.  So yeah, I don’t understand being a superfan at all.

Nobody has ever signed up for my email list, therefore I never send out a newsletter.  I provide my email address on my web site and no one ever sends me an email.  My phone number is on there too and I never get a text from anyone either.  If anyone did any of those things, I’d probably respond if it wasn’t spam.  I know that whatever I’d put in the would-be newsletter is what’s already in my blog anyway.  

No one actually subscribes to my blog either, but I get the stats that show between 30 and 300 people read my blog posts.  They know I have the blog, and just check it once in a while to see if I have a new post.  Come to think of it, a couple times a year I check Neil Young’s website and read a few of his posts that are on there.  His site is a total mess, and the majority of it is stuff other people write, but sometimes, there’s a couple interesting articles on there.

I’m generally scared and wary of fandom, so I’m not keen to nurture it for my own music in any way.  People get weird – especially online - and the whole concept is creepy.  Yes, I’d like more listeners, but no, I don’t quite get how me responding to people often and consistently will translate to more streams.  You either like me as an artist, or you don’t.  You like some of my music or you don’t.  

I’m also scared to potentially read any negative reaction or review of my music, or to things I post to promote my music for that matter.  It would probably bum me out, even though I know it’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea.  If I met Neil, for example, I’d tell him The Old Homestead is one of my favorites of his songs, but I wouldn’t tell him the songs of his that I don’t care for.  I’d leave that out.

Narrowing The Focus To What You Can Put Up With

If you're like me, and are strictly a non-performing recording artist, you immediately rule out taking steps toward arranging to play live shows.  Also, if like me, when you have no marketing/advertising budget whatsoever, you immediately rule out anything that costs money.  Then keeping in mind that like me, you have an aversion to self-promotion to begin with, your options are narrowed down quite a lot.

What you're left with is a short list of a few things you can do to promote your music that are free.  Those things usually involve using technology.

What I Think About The Remaining Advice

Things I've done that have helped a little: 

• Web site: The analytics show I get visitors from all over the world, mostly from the US, and mostly from Michigan.  No surprises.  No one ever signs up for the email list.
• Blog:  The analytics show that about 1 year after a post, approximately 200 people have read it, but beyond that, I’m not sure what it accomplishes aside from me writing about myself.
• Music videos:  A lot of my fanbase are old-school and don’t subscribe to a music streaming service, so they like these because they’re free and they don’t have to sign in to anything.
• Social media:  I announce the releases, provide the streaming links, and that’s about it.  I quickly get out and intentionally don’t look back to see what the comments are, if any.  This probably helps my streaming stats.

Things I've done that haven't helped at all:

• Email list:  No one ever signs up despite prominently-displayed and easy-to-use forms for this on my website.  I have several different ones, and none work.
• Newsletter:  Well, without an email list, I wouldn’t have anyone to send a newsletter to.  Most people know I have blog, and just check in once in a while and read it if they feel like it without ever subscribing, but my blog’s content is what I’d be emailing them anyway.

Things I've never done:

• Soliciting album reviews:  Too scared to read anything potentially derogatory, I admit it, plus, some require a payment, so I automatically rule this out.
• Engage/connect/respond/bond/etc.:  As aforementioned, responding to comments isn’t something I do, but if someone emails me, I email them back.
• Granting interviews:  I’m up for this!  I’m not going to pitch to people and ask them to interview me, but if a music blogger or podcaster reached out, of course I’d do it.

Things I would probably never consider:

• Playing live:  Never say never.  I have, and can, play live in front of audiences, but am just not into it.  Mostly because I know I’m not a great singer, and also because it would require memorizing my own songs – which I could do, but don’t really want to.
• Anything paid:  Legit advertising, playlist promotion; fake streams, etc. (modern payola):  I’m against trying to get other people to boost my popularity, and I definitely wouldn’t ever pay for any such service because it’s wrong.
• Crowdfunding:  I actually did consider this, and signed up for a couple of them already to try it out, but as with the mailing list, no one showed any interest at all.  I’m embarrassed I even tried.  It just seems wrong, and doesn’t feel right to strategize how to get people to just give you money for your music projects in exchange for exclusive special stuff or whatever.  If anyone ever did donate, I’d probably strongly consider not accepting.

Things I would consider if things were different (and I could hire pros to help):

Although I do love being able to say I’ve done everything myself with pride, I’m getting to the point that I could use some help.  You know, like the kind of help I imagine artists signed to labels get from those labels.  Various services would be great, but the financing responsibility for them would not.  With an influx of capital though, I could book a pro recording studio with a pro producer and engineer and session musicians, then hire a marketing/PR firm to do the rest, including handling my social media for me.  I’d happily do interviews if someone else arranged them.  Advertising?  Why not?

Things I’ll probably never stop doing:

Writing songs

Recording songs

That’s pretty much it.  Not sure what else I could be doing that I’d also be willing to do.  A lot of the things I’ve listed that I’ve been doing (aside from writing & recording) are an emotional drain that don’t result in much support or recognition.  I do the bare minimum because I see them as necessary evils.  It was hard to even muster the courage to tell people about this latest album, but I had to do it.

I just don’t have the content creator mentality to work the algorithms and all that.  Don’t have it in me to treat the marketing as an extension of my creativity.  Not a networker, not a self-promoter.  Just not inclined to seek out publicity.  Could this be because I’m not confident enough with my music?  Maybe, yeah.  Although hard to admit, I think that must be a part of it.

Sorry I haven’t nurtured you enough.  It’s just not something I’m comfortable with.  If you commented on something I posted on social media and I didn’t comment back, sorry about that too.  If you want to send me an email though, I’ll probably email you back.  I’m not looking for pen pals, but I could handle typing a response.

Winding Down

When will I know these things are too much hassle to continue with?  Don’t know.  The hobby might be winding down already, but the beauty in not having any public reviews or public performances is that I never get any indication, be it subtle or direct, that I should probably quit, and find a different hobby due to not being that good.  No one is telling me anything like that, so I keep going.  

That’s the problem when anyone can pay a few bucks and release worldwide to make their music discoverable and playable everywhere, yet do it from their home while maintaining some degree of anonymity.  I already know I’m not going to make any money.  For now, I’m trusting my intuition that when I have enough new songs written and recorded for another album again, I’ll probably go through the trouble and self-torture to actually do the things I have to do to get it out to people again, but I’ll dread it a little.

I’m not totally sure, but I’ll probably continue with what I’m already comfortable with, and not take on anything beyond that, but eventually, I might finally realize the fanbase is not realistically going to grow any more, and just decide to stop making my songs public.  Either that or I’ll hit the lotto and enlist pros to do most of it for me.  That sounds nice.

Play "When You Need To Fly" by Scott Cooley here:

Apple Music:  https://music.apple.com/us/album/when-you-need-to-fly/1812106520

Spotify:  https://open.spotify.com/album/5BTHRlsdI9vCHSEAsdH34U

YouTube Music:  https://music.youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_k_pXSLzsLGqrxspCz_6_FP9QRIqSKqqos

Amazon Music:  https://music.amazon.com/albums/B0F6WBZDWR

Tidal:  https://listen.tidal.com/album/432980997

Bandcamp:  https://scottcooley.bandcamp.com/album/when-you-need-to-fly

Pandora:  https://www.pandora.com/artist/scott-cooley/when-you-need-to-fly/ALvtK3kf3cmzgv2

YouTube:  https://www.youtube.com/@scottcooley/videos

For more information:  https://www.scottcooley.com/albums/when-you-need-to-fly

When You Need To Fly

Cheer yourself up and embrace your individuality by listening to my new album about life’s ups and downs, with love/relationships subject matter, in an acoustic rock style, containing more songs than usual, and to be out sooner than expected.  This coming Saturday, search for "When You Need To Fly" by solo artist Scott Cooley in whichever music streaming service you like to use, and it will be there for your listening pleasure.  

How do I describe it?  Well, like my Grandpa Cooley once wrote on the inside wall of a shed he built next to the old outhouse behind his lakeside cottage in Michigan, this album is “good enough for who done it.”

This is the official announcement of my new record “When You Need To Fly,” which is the 13th studio album I’ve made and released publicly.  By ‘studio’ I just mean it’s not a live album, and I should clarify that I didn’t record it in a real brick-and-mortar recording studio.  I recorded it in a bedroom in my house with a single microphone and a few instruments.  It has a whopping 19 new original previously-unreleased songs on it, so I’m considering it a “double” album, even though there’s no physical disc media involved.  The “street date” that it will “drop” and be available for streaming from all the main places people stream music (Apple Music, Spotify, Amazon Music, YouTube Music, etc.) is on June 21st, 2025 (which is also my birthday).  Now I should probably tell you more of the "behind the music" information.

Sometimes you have a bunch of songs that are just okay, and that’s okay.  If you’re like me, you write songs because you were compelled to, and you let them become what they become, without ever intentionally trying to make them a hit or worthy of radio play or appropriate for a movie soundtrack or anything like that.  You hope for popularity, but you don’t aim for it.  Eventually, when contemplating releasing an album, you can listen back to what you have available, and be a little disappointed.  

Ready for takeoff, yet still grounded in reality.  As in life, we all can find ourselves plugging away at what we do, while not reaching our aspirations.  Particularly in creative pursuits, making your dreams come true is what you strive for, and the results may fall short of what you envisioned.  While wanting to write great songs, other songs get written along the way.  I have lots of those.  I guess my latest batch reflects where I am in life, acknowledging struggles while trying to remain positive.

I’m not all that excited or enthusiastic about it to be honest, but you might get into it for that very reason.  I’m not sure I have an A game, but if I do, I definitely didn’t bring it on this one.  It doesn’t have any really good outstanding songs on it like my last album - 2024’s “Sunrise” – did.  That one had at least a couple “good-for-me” songs on it and was my most sunny and positive record, whereas this new one has songs that are all about the same low-quality level as each other, and it’s a little darker and more negative.  You’ll notice the word “down” appears in the song titles and lyrics frequently on this one, but it’s not totally a bummer, because they’ve got that relatability factor in which somewhat depressing subject matter can actually cheer you up.  

These new songs are all pretty mediocre for me, and I debated whether to release any of them at all.  In fact, about half of them are songs I considered for release on past albums and previously weeded out, and the other half are fairly new and still should probably have been weeded out.  I was seriously on the fence about all of them, but I just couldn’t bring myself to say that they were so bad that no one should ever be able to hear them, even though they were sitting in a folder on my computer I named ‘average’.  

I am predicting this one will neither be commercially nor critically successful, but has a good chance to achieve some level of cult status like the rest of my output has.  People like what they like.  I’m a fan of a lot of “deep cuts” from other artists’ albums.  A lot of my favorites can be angry, sad or cynical.  I often enjoy songs from my favorite artists’ least popular albums too.  As an artist, you never really know what will resonate, so it should be interesting to find out.  

Any songwriter will tell you that they have to write a ton of songs before they write any truly great ones.  This batch feels to me like I’m on the brink, still putting in my 10,000 hours toward mastery.  Melancholy songs can be a good listen, so I’m hoping people can enjoy more of my gray side on this one.  Checking out some amazing photography – albeit black and white - changed my mind when I saw one that sort of visually summed up one of the songs, which I then realized sort of summed up the whole collection of songs, and gave me the idea for that to be the title and cover of the album.

What is good about “When You Need To Fly” is that it’s available only one year after my last, which means you get to hear it one year sooner than you would have if I had chosen to stick with my typical every-two-years release schedule.  It also has way more songs on it than the typical baker’s dozen track count that I usually go with.  Although somewhat meaningless, in my way of thinking, every music artist should have at least one double album in their discography, and I had enough songs available for it to qualify, so now I can say I have one.  Additionally, it has what I think is my first-ever use of an actual electric guitar on record, and it has a great album cover photograph.  

The solo on the title track was played with a custom replica of Eddie Van Halen’s guitar that my cousin Mike built for me.  The album cover art photograph of birds on a wire in Murcia, Spain was taken by my nephew Riley.  So, I’ve got to hereby give a shout-out to Michael Cooley Electric Guitars in Michigan and Riley Hart Photography in Spain!

To sum up what you get:

• Great cover art:  Outstanding professional-quality album cover photo.

• Less waiting:  Time between typical album releases cut in half.

• Music videos:  Check the official YouTube channel for a few new ones on June 21st.

Also a few notable “firsts”:

• More songs:  First-ever double album in the Scott Cooley Records catalog.

• Electric guitar:  First-ever usage of an electric guitar on record.

• Clavinet:  First-ever usage of this sound, which I combined with ukulele.

What you don’t get:

• Really awesome songs:  Hopefully, you’ll prove me wrong.

• Lenore on accordion:  Sorry, just didn't have any appropriate ones this time.  It’s hard to write a song for accordion, but I hope to write more in the future.

Why would I release a bunch of songs that are below my own standards?  I made a rash decision that they were not so bad that I didn’t want other people to be able to hear them, and further decided I would not be too embarrassed or ashamed if they did.  In other words, if they weren’t bad enough to just throw away by deleting them, and I couldn’t envision any ways to improve them at all, or maybe I could but didn’t feel like re-doing any of them, I then thought I might as well release them.  On one hand, I’ve sort of arguably always released a bunch of mediocre songs on each album anyway, and on the other hand, all solo artists have bad albums and songs if you think about it.  You can’t just keep getting better indefinitely, with each new album better than the last, right?  Right. 

There was no obvious cutoff point for this batch of songs.  It’s not like when I self-evaluated them that there was a clear dividing line between definite keepers, borderline keepers, and non-keepers.  This is an album of “all borderline keepers”.  Every single song I would grade with a C, but it’s relative.  I’ve written very few songs I would give an A grade to, maybe not any at all.  I had more than 19 available, but did weed out some Cs and Ds.  Maybe these are all in the B range, come to think of it, but it depends how I look at it as a body of work.  They’re all about equally mediocre – I guess that’s the best way to describe them.  

If that wasn’t enough, to entice you further, this album has a mixture of positive and negative songs, but they’re mostly of the negative, sad, and depressing variety.  This might signal the start of what will later become known as “my dark period”.  All artists have them, and now it’s my turn.  Thinking back, maybe you don’t have to wait to be in a good mood to write a song, and no one is always in a good mood.  Well, maybe my niece Madison, but she’s the only person I’ve ever been around who is like that, so it’s got to be very rare.  It’s okay to be bummed out once in a while.  For most of you who’ve been there, you’ll be able to relate, and as has been proven with music, especially blues, listening to the Debbie Downer songs can be surprisingly uplifting, so I encourage you to keep that in mind.

I suppose I should actually describe the type of music it is, which I dread, because I’m never sure, but in a word, maybe it’s Americana.  Definitely Acoustic Garage Rock (AGR), and all those similar genre/style descriptors like singer-songwriter, roots rock, indie folk, etc.  For those already familiar with my style, you’ll get more of that, so it won’t disappoint as far as the signature sound goes at least.  For you newcomers who were not immediately offput by the word Americana, thanks for staying with me, and know that no one really knows how to define that, or any of these.  

There are some traces of country, folk, blues, reggae, punk, funk, dance, maybe even pop whatever that means, and of course rock, or rock and roll, if you prefer.  There’s also one song I would label as Acoustic Dance Music (ADM), and I may be a pioneer in this style.  I have no idea what other people think they hear in there, but you should be forewarned that there’s a lot of acoustic guitar strumming, and also that I’m not considered a good singer at all.

The song lyrics are mostly about romantic relationships, love, feeling down, and doors.  Don’t know why.  It just worked out that way.  A music journalist would have a tough time with this one, because there’s no obvious way the songs are connected to each other, and it doesn’t really have any overarching theme.  Some are happy, some sad, some are deep, some are shallow, some are mean, some are kind, some are funny.  They’re all pretty simple, and none are super long this time.  I think they’re all under 5 minutes in length.  Most have a rhythm section.  Some virtual instrument sounds were made by playing a MIDI keyboard.  They’re not all in the same key.  They employ usage of different song forms.  Some are faster than others, but are mostly mid-tempo I suspect.  Many have bridge sections.  Some have instrumental breaks, some don’t.  Short intros.  Subtle mistakes have intentionally been left in out of pure laziness.

Few, if any, people ever hear any of my songs before I release them, but occasionally, I play a few for my wife Lenore.  Her most common reaction is to tell me that I “don’t sing with any emotion”.  She says I should strive for the style of Michael Crawford singing O Holy Night, which she says is so emotional that it makes her cry.  She says I can be a deep person who conveys emotion in my speaking voice, and wonders why I can’t do it with my singing voice.  

I don’t have an answer for that.  Maybe I’m sounding particularly melancholy because that’s how I feel about these songs, or maybe that’s how I felt in general when recording the vocal tracks.  I have no idea how to even begin to try to sing like that dude.  I think I was born with the singing voice I have and practice or training wouldn’t help me much.  I just like making up songs.  

Although I obviously haven’t been blessed with natural singing talent, I feel very lucky so far in my life.  I’ve wondered why some higher power thought I should stay alive up until now.  I’ve speculated that there’s a reason I have yet to find out about.  Sometimes while waiting for my grand purpose to be revealed somehow, it occurs to me that maybe I’ve brought about some good in the world already.  I’ve generally been a good person, despite some bad judgement along the way.  I’ve made people laugh occasionally throughout my life.  Pondering it a little more, it could be that I’m being watched over, or looked out for, because I’m making a difference in the world by making music.  It’s a grandiose notion.

With that in the back of my mind, maybe it’s why I’m here, what I was meant to do, and why instead of questioning it, I should probably just keep doing it.  That sounds good to me, and it keeps me going with my hobby of writing songs.  I enjoy it, so it’s good for me, and other people have enjoyed it, so it’s good for them too.  I’ve provided entertainment for some people in my lifetime, and it feels like something I can continue with.  Maybe I haven’t written a really great song yet, but maybe I have one in me.  Maybe my future includes getting better with my music.  The dream is to write one great song at least, and maybe one great album, but this latest one won’t be it.  

My last album, Sunrise, had two or three good songs on it, and most of them were not bad, and overall, it was a good album, especially when compared with the rest of my albums.  The one before that, Lockdown Leftovers wasn’t as good, because it was somewhat intentionally a group of previously-weeded-out songs.  “When You Need To Fly” is more like that one.  It has a bunch of interesting, yet fairly ordinary and uninspired songs on it.  

That’s okay.  It can serve as a demonstration of consistency in that it doesn’t have any really terribly awful songs on it either…arguably.  I felt like I needed to get these songs out to you so you can stream them.  Maybe you’ll like some of them, maybe you’ll be entertained, and if you are not inclined to consider any to be your favorite Scott Cooley songs, I’ll understand.

I have no one to blame but myself for what you hear, as I was the only person involved in all aspects of making the entire record.  “When You Need To Fly” is really about life’s ups and downs – the title track song and the album as a whole.  Ups and downs happen to most artists.  Typical music careers have some duds.  I’m not immune, but it gets me thinking that if I don’t give up, some greatness may be just around the corner.  That’s the attitude I have lately.  I know that if I keep going with writing and recording new ones, maybe some greatness will emerge.  I think I have hope that it will happen, and I think I feel that way because of being grateful for so many things in my life so far.  Sometimes we can all find ourselves in a bit of a rut in life, and while in the miserable company of the status quo, you’re not afraid to be true to yourself and go against the grain as you wait to stumble upon something exceptional.

To have the chance to stumble upon a creative hobby and then make your creations public is scary but pretty cool.  As with other aspects of life, you have to power through the tough times to get to better ones.  I think that’s where I’m at now with music.  I feel very fortunate to be permitted to give it a try, to have the freedom to do what I do.  Sometimes in life you get a sense that you’re on the verge of something, and I have that now.  I’m thinking that I need to trust myself, my process, and good things will happen eventually.  I’m weathering a storm of mediocrity I guess, to learn how to get through it to better weather ahead.  I need to fly, and I want to fly.

There are on average about 30 people who regularly read this blog, according to the stats, and I’m grateful to have you read my long-winded ramblings about myself and my music.  I’m not sure a long-form post about a new album will make a difference in my streaming analytics or not, but it was worth a try, and no one minds typing on about their favorite subject – themselves.  Just as in conversation, you get to hear the description from the horse’s mouth, or keyboard in this case.  I sincerely appreciate the interest in both my blog and my music.  

Sometimes you sound nothing like your influences, nowhere close to the quality of music you yourself are a fan of.  I did not think I could just endlessly tweak these and keep re-recording them to make them any better than they are.  I thought it was important to enjoy the moment without regard for the future and make the most of having a bunch of songs that were ripe for releasing now, instead of waiting for better ones to show up.  I wish I could make records like Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side of the Moon or Boston’s debut – great vocals, electric guitars, high fidelity, sonically perfect, with high production value.  

That’s the kind of music I personally enjoy, and with those types of influences, you’d think what I myself make might be similar in some way, but it’s almost the complete opposite.  At least I tried my first electric guitar solo on this one.  I can’t help what the output of my creative process sounds like, but it’s me, and I feel fortunate that some other people out there in the world like you sometimes find my music to be entertaining.

The future may never bring any tangible rewards for my contributions to music other than the satisfaction I got out of doing it, but that alone makes it worth it.  I am proud to add to the clutter and sea of irrelevant noise.  In this age when amateurish long-tail artists like me with a cult following at best can easily contribute to the oversaturation of music streaming, my perspective remains optimistic.  

Keeping the right frame of mind about it all is important when you feel like you’re ready for greater heights, and that’s what the title song and album are about.  Weathering storms, staying on an even keel, not letting life get you down for too long, daring to be a little different.  I guess that’s what this new record is all about overall.  You’ll be able to relate to the hopes for higher times ahead, taking off into the unknown future, and knowing more good fortune is yet to come.  Faith that if you don’t give up, things will turn around, and you’ll be flying higher again soon.

 

Why I Probably Won't Become Verified by Bluesky

If I were them - the deciders - I would start with a search, not find much, then quickly click the button to send me the boilerplate "denied" notification (if they even offer that courtesy), and move on to the next applicant.  They might even have a database to determine if you're signed to a label (vs. self-releasing), which I wouldn't be in.  Whoever these folks are, they're likely in a hurry to deny.  Their productivity is being measured, and like with customer service departments, they are probably told by management to not spend too much time reviewing each form.

I previously macro-blogged about Twitter verification here:  https://blog.scottcooley.com/2023/05/twitter-blues.html in which I expressed initial frustration about not getting verified by them, and then sort of concluded that the whole thing is pretty ridiculous, and not something to be bummed about.  Why fill out a form in the first place?  Credibility?  Is that what I'm after?  

When you're an established independent DIY solo artist, already past mid-career, yet still aspiring/emerging/hungry for more recognition - hoping for a larger audience for your music (more streams), you want to give the appearance of legitimacy, and so you want to look official.  You are those things already, but anything that helps makes you look established and popular already, makes you even more so.  You think that will help, but the thing is you need a bunch of reputable online sources to write about you.  I suspect that if reviews of my music were to materialize online, they might contain some negativity that could stifle my spirit, so I've never submitted my albums to any bloggers or publications.  I should point out that I don't perform live very often, so I'm really just a recording artist.

I'm a verified solo artist with Spotify, Apple Music, Amazon Music, YouTube Music, regular YouTube, Pandora, etc., which means I have an account to sign in to their "for Artists" parts of their websites because I've claimed my own profile in them.  Some provide a prominent check mark icon of some kind, some don't.  I also have my own domain.  I've been mentioned in a podcast by another artist, had people post nice things about me in social media a few times, but there are no news articles or blogs about me as far as I know.  I've tried to establish somewhat of an online presence.  The TLDR is that's probably not enough.  

I recently put a prominent link to my Bluesky profile page on my website because so far, I'm thinking it will become my primary social media and microblogging platform.  I also recently filled out the verification form for Bluesky, I guess so people will see the coveted badge and trust that I'm the real Scott Cooley, not a fake impersonator or something.  So, I'm authentic enough, but likely not notable enough.  "Official" but not "high-profile".

While they review my credentials (or lack thereof), I thought I would do a little reviewing of them.  I basically dread having to deal with any social media (or self-promotion for that matter), but so far, I like Bluesky better than any platform I've tried.  I was fortunate to "join the early conversation" back in 2023 when it was fairly new, and I can report that it has improved significantly since then.  Originally, I went with the standard scottcooley.bsky.social, but then changed it to this:

https://bsky.app/profile/scottcooley.com

Things you should know:

With your own domain, you just paste in a record on your registrar's site, two minutes and you're done (meaning you don't then have to host your own Linux server on a Rasberry Pi in your basement or something just to be able to log back in to Bluesky).  They could make that clearer.  I'm now questioning whether @scottcooley.com as my handle is better, but I'm not going to worry about what people think.

Things I didn't like about Twitter:

-they replaced the public profile page view with a sign-in requirement

-they never verified me with the blue check despite the notability evidence I provided

-the name change to X made no sense, the name was one of the coolest things about it

Things I like about Bluesky:

-public profile page

-simple, uncluttered user interface (retro vibe is similar to early Twitter)

-they didn't do the mobile-first thing, or mobile-only thing, and I prefer the early and decent web availability (don't use the app on my phone at all)

-fairly easy to find like-minded people

-human+auto moderation focus seems effective, is reassuring

-use the same account for other apps, future apps

Things I'm still not sure about:

-more extreme, in-your-face left wingers than I expected (which is still way better than the opposite)

-the full extent of why owning data I post publicly anyway is such a big deal

-remains to be seen if I'll become verified or not

-seems to be dominated by software developer types so far (there went my checkmark)

I previously blogged about "notability" for indie DIY solo artists who never seek out press coverage:  https://blog.scottcooley.com/2014/07/from-nobility-to-notability.html

I used the Wikipedia "notability" guidelines to create my detailed Biography:  https://www.scottcooley.com/biography#h.p_ID_285

Bottom line is I don't really want people to review my music or write about me publicly, so I don't look for such opportunities.  If someone reached out for an interview, I'd grant it though.  Various quotes say things along the lines of music being 10% creative and 90% marketing.  My popularity (or lack thereof) reflects the fact that aside from a few social media announcements when I release new music, I engage in no marketing whatsoever (and I prefer it that way).  My music has been on the dark side lately, which doesn't lend itself well to the New York Times discovering it and calling to interview me about it.  Surprise me, Mr. Bluesky! Be my sunny day.

New Music Video Available Now for "When We're All Together"

Since this song has turned out to be a lot of people's favorite song from my last album, "Sunrise," which I released in 2024, I thought "When We're All Together" deserved a music video.  It features footage from a documentary film called "March of the Penguins" which I was surprisingly permitted to use by the National Geographic Society due to its public domain status.  It features the annual journey of the emperor penguins of Antarctica.  I thought it would not only be fitting for my orginal song, but also literally and figuratively cool.  Watch it below, or check it out on YouTube here: https://youtu.be/Fu_c6SB5Pig?si=Z8www5gecghRqcri

https://youtu.be/Fu_c6SB5Pig?si=Z8www5gecghRqcri

Music Is Too Important To Be Left To Professionals

Collecting Digital Dust vs. Lowering The Bar:  New Scott Cooley Album May Become Available Sooner Than Expected

The beauty of today’s music business is that you can pay a monthly subscription fee for a streaming service and get all music by all artists – including “amateurs” like me who have no pressure except that which we place upon ourselves, and as a result, there’s a ton of interesting, important music out there to be discovered.

Success in music can be defined as being counted among some people’s favorite artists, regardless of any potential for mainstream popularity that artist has.  It can easily justify an artist’s existence, and the need for their music to remain available.

Your favorite artists have released albums that are worse than others, and songs that are worse than others.  Sometimes your favorites are the ones few people would agree with, and you’re glad they exist.

Your favorite band sucks.  That’s a funny t-shirt.  People get defensive.  You like what you like, and you don’t care what others think.  They may not appear on anyone else’s fave lists, they may not be the best singers, instrumentalists, or songwriters.  You discovered them somehow, and it’s cool to find things you like about their deep album cuts and lesser-known songs.

Record companies used to decide which artists people got to listen to, and now it’s a bit more democratic.  You get access to more choices now, and you have the freedom to choose what to listen to regardless of their influence.

In defense of independent musicians everywhere, isn’t it awesome they have a low barrier to entry into the business?  They have platforms for people to find their music, even their mediocre stuff, and it doesn’t have to be popular to stay there, and it doesn’t have to be expensive for it to stay there.

Sometimes I feel like an endangered species.  I notice signs that artists like me will be increasingly marginalized in the future.  Makes me want to get my music out to people now while I still can, warts and all!

Welcome to my post in which I think and type my way through to possibly convincing myself to release an album earlier than I usually do, and with more songs on it than usual, even though those songs won’t be up to my usual quality level (not that the level was very high to begin with).

I have a bunch of songs written and recorded that aren’t that great, but they are not so bad that I would not want anyone to hear them.  So, I’m thinking about releasing them all on one big album, choosing a track order, making an album cover, paying a few bucks to distribute it, etc.

I’m not under any illusion that lots of people want to hear all of the music I make, and yet there are so many songs I’ve written and recorded that no one has ever heard.  They just “collect digital dust,” as they say, and exist as wave files in folders on my computer hard drive.  

Even for a lot of the songs I have already released, hardly anyone has ever heard them, so it’s not as if I have anything to lose.  It’s not like I’m in danger of wrecking a stellar reputation.  The streaming counts are publicly visible, so there’s no hiding from the lack of popularity.  Some songs have been available for a couple decades and only have a couple streams each on some platforms.  

This cold harsh reality could be a reflection of a lot of things that are totally my fault, but it is of course not uncommon at all.  Other artists in a similar boat toiled for way longer than me and spent way more money than me to have the same result.  

Fortunately, I’ve never paid for anything – studio time, session musicians, producers, engineers, co-writers, lessons, rehearsal space, etc.  I have always used a cheap audio interface and a cheap microphone on a cheap computer I would have anyway, with a few cheap instruments I would have anyway.  

For most of my songs, I probably average about a half hour to write them, and about an hour and a half to record them, so approximately 2 hrs. per song.  That’s my labor in my free time.  Then when I have a dozen or so, I pay to distribute them, which when I started was around 5 bucks per album, and is now around 10 bucks per album.  

Depending on how you add it all up, maybe I’ve come close to breaking even on the overall investment in the hobby.  I have never paid to get press, and have never paid for any promotion, advertising, or marketing of any kind.  I just announce releases on social media, my web site, and this blog, and that’s about it.

If you’re a returning regular reader of this blog, you know that I consider myself lucky to have gotten on a roll with a songwriting/recording hobby right when they started allowing anyone to be able to pay a few bucks to release their music on the iTunes Store for downloads and Amazon for CDs.  Rapidly, this expanded to other MP3 sites and music streaming apps like Spotify.  

These digital music aggregator distribution services started popping up that allowed independent music acts to upload their songs and get them distributed to all of the online music stores and streaming platforms worldwide.  It essentially allowed amateurs to go public and commercial and feel like pros without needing to be signed to a record label.  

When you are completely self-taught, feeling like a pro can be a good thing.  Just as I was starting to write decent songs and experiment with some cheap home recording equipment, it became possible and I took advantage of the opportunity.  The timing of the changes in the music business and technology were ideal for a solo artist like me, because getting any interest in my music with verifiable stats was exciting and gave me confidence.

Creative quality is subjective, but CD/download sales figures that transitioned to streaming counts, along with online presence interest, became indicators of fan engagement.  Since I’m not an attention seeker by nature, I haven’t been proactive about getting my name out there, but I did create a website, blog, and social media profiles that I use to market myself occasionally.

I don’t do anything at all to try to get more followers, likes, shares, subscribes, streams, playlist adds, or email list signups.  I like knowing that whatever amount of any of those I do get is totally organic, without any manipulation by me or anyone else.

A lot of people do what I do now.  They write and record songs and release them to Amazon Music, Apple Music, iTunes, Spotify, YouTube Music, etc., and maybe recoup the digital distribution fee eventually.  For most of us, we never really know for sure how good the songs are.  All I know is that some are a little better than others.  

The right thing to do is to wait until you have enough of those to release an album.  All the other songs that were worse than the others are still fairly good though, at least in your own mind.  You never know what other people will like, and you sort of don’t care one way or another, if you think about it the way I do.

The problem if you’ve released albums before like I have, then write and record more, is that you think way too much about these types of little decisions.  You toil over what to include, what to leave out, what order to put them in.  None of it really matters, but I guess because I spend way too much time thinking about it, maybe I do care a little.  

Anyone who creates things for fun usually finds it fun to share those creations with others in some way or another.  We all want to do well with any pursuit.  In my case, I distribute to music streaming services so people can find and listen to them, and I’m always excited to see that some do.

You always hope there are some people out there in the world who like what you created.  It can’t be helped.  I am content with my life, and if I didn’t have a songwriting/recording hobby, I’d still be content.  Sometimes when I check out the streaming stats and see that some of my songs don’t get streamed hardly at all, it’s disappointing.  

Then I quickly cheer myself up by noting the stats of my most-streamed songs and realize I’m not as terrible as I sometimes think of myself as being.  When you’re realistic about your limitations, and know your style isn’t anywhere close to the mainstream, you don’t worry about whether your hobby is a waste of time.

You wouldn’t mind some popularity, of course, but you’re not out to write hits necessarily.  You just do what you do because you like doing it.  It’s unusual to do something where there’s not a concrete way to know how to do well.  Trying harder doesn’t usually help.  It’s not like most activities in which hard work is rewarded with success.  In fact, sometimes it turns out that the songs people like the best are the ones that required the least amount of effort.

I have a bunch of finished songs no one has ever heard.  I wrote them and recorded them, and they’ve just been in a folder on my computer.  They are not that great, but not that bad either.  Who knows?  I’m sometimes surprised about people’s favorites, and find it hard to believe others didn’t get more streams, but none in the currently available batch seem to be standout hits in any way.  I’m not the best judge.  The window of opportunity to publicly release my music in the same places where you can stream the GOATS of music seems to be closing, and I’m not getting any younger.

If you’re a self-releasing indie solo artist like me, you can just release them any time you want.  It’s a good situation to find yourself in.  If I was signed to a label, I’d need to weed out a bunch of them.  In fact, many were previously weeded out from consideration for past album releases.  I haven’t written a really “good-for-me” song in a long time.  It happens.  You just continue on with the hobby, and eventually a few good ones materialize again.

I typically wait two years between album releases.  I also typically put 13 songs on an album.  I have no idea why I’ve established this pattern.  I’m tempted to release another album early – only one year since my last – and with more songs than usual.  The problem is there just aren’t any really good-for-me songs yet.  Can I release a long album with all mediocre songs?  Sure, why not?  I could do that.

Then when I think about it more, I realize that for most of the artists and bands I’m a fan of, when I peruse their back catalog discography, they all only have about 2-3 songs I like on most of their albums.  Some artists I’m a fan of only have one good song per album, but I like them anyway.  I make a playlist of those, and I have my own personal favorite mix tape of what I think are their best songs.

So, as an artist myself, I can safely say I’m no different.  There are maybe on average two good songs on each of my albums, some more, some less.  A couple of my albums don’t really have any outstanding songs at all.  A couple other albums have a higher quality with several good songs on each.  Good for me, that is.  Of course, I thought they were the best available at the time of release, and now I’m not crazy about some I previously thought were good.

Got an unreleased material stockpile?  Some say put it out, don’t hold back.  What to do with all that music no one has heard yet?  Your release approach options are limitless, and anything is better than nothing.  Or so I have read (obscure Spinal Tap reference alert).  You can go for it and maybe get accused of gaming the system somehow.  

A huge triple album, three albums spread out, a half-dozen EPs spread out even further, more than one release per year, a couple singles per month for a whole year, etc.  Bruce Springsteen just released 7 whole previously-unreleased albums from his vault with a marketing gimmick that they had been “lost”.  Albums are better for artists like me who don’t promote anything because all my songs are deep cuts anyway, and I usually have some cohesive vision, narrative, or theme that ties them all together and gives listeners a more immersive experience.

Waiting makes it easier to group songs together that complement each other.  If you release songs too quickly, fans might feel like you’re hitting them with too much at once.  Rushing puts you at risk of the perception of watering down the back catalog.  A part of every creator is excited upon completion of a work to share it with others.  Sometimes it’s better to live with the creation for a while, give yourself some time to change your mind.  

If you wait, you might get hit by a bus before anyone gets to hear those songs.  When not signed to a label that would certainly posthumously milk the back catalog for all it’s worth, all my unreleased songs would just stay on the computer indefinitely until it breaks and is thrown away.  On the other hand, releasing more songs more often can water down that back catalog.  Mine isn’t worth much, but the bottom line is you have a bunch of songs that aren’t bad, and you wouldn’t mind if people got to hear them.  The few die-hard fans I have would love the increased output, regardless of overall quality.

I’m not out for popularity, but releasing more songs, more frequently is a thing one can do.  In the old days, you’d never hear an artist like me in the first place, but now you can get more Scott Cooley, more often, if I make that choice.  I just may be able to make that happen, since I do in fact have some recorded songs I’m just sitting on, instead of waiting another year.  You always want to weed some out, of course.  I have a personal system for self-rating my own songs, and there are always some I know are not going to make the cut, but I could lower my standards a bit.

It's a good problem to have if you’re a recording artist.  Weed out for quality, they say.  You don’t want to let the fanbase down, but if you wait too long for better songs to show up, you’ll risk losing some fans.  My digital aggregator distributor who sends my songs to the digital service providers advise “In general for an album, you should aim for a maximum of 80 minutes total.”  So, if you divide that by an average of 4 minutes per song, that would be 20 songs to max it out.

There are more solo artists than bands now.  Another trend is that those solo artists are releasing music more often than they used to.  Yet another is that they are releasing albums with more songs on them than they used to.  All of this is done to keep the fans interested and satiated.  It’s about not losing momentum.

You might be wondering if or when I might release more music again.  I’ve been wondering the same thing.  Fortunately, there seems to be a slowly-increasing interest in this type of information.  More people have been discovering me lately, and from what I can tell, my body of work is catching on, and getting recommended more often, I guess.  I know personally when I’m a fan of an artist, I do like it when they release new stuff more frequently, and I don’t mind really long albums at all.  I like them.  But then again, as an artist myself, I’m prone to long albums already (and long blog posts for that matter).

I’ll try to keep the paragraphs a little shorter for you on this post, since another trend and reason for the aforementioned trends I’ve read about recently is that supposedly everyone in the world now can’t handle long reads anymore, and they can’t help it that their attention spans keep getting shorter.  I find it hard to believe.

I’m inclined to consider those trends as advice to go for it with more music, more often since my audience has been slowly growing, especially lately.  They say you need to drop hints to build a buzz, so this might contain some.  If the quality dips a little, so be it.  I don’t want my fans to forget about me while I’m on a roll, because if they haven’t already, they will eventually.

I’m glad my standards are not so high that they’ve prevented me from releasing any of music at all.  Some people toil (there’s that word again) for years perfecting a few songs before they put them out.  I decided long ago to just dive in, not worry too much about quality control, and live with my decisions.  The regrets have been few.  Other people don’t care as much as you think, so you shouldn’t either – that’s what I need to keep in mind.

It’s probably not a bad idea to get feedback from live audiences and get the opinions of music experts first, but I don’t play live, and bad critiques can devastate your confidence and stifle your spirit, so I find it’s better to avoid reviews of any kind.  You’re better off not knowing.  Going public with your hobby requires bravery.

It’s tempting to worry about what other people think, or at least wonder, but the reality is that no one thinks anything.  Nobody notices, nobody wonders what ever happened to you.  It’s comforting to remind yourself that no one talks about you behind your back, no one cares what you’ve been up to or how successful you’ve become in anything.  Yes, I’m brave to think people will find and enjoy my music.  

When people I’ve known have found out that I’m one of those people who writes and records and releases music, they might also hear I’m not popular or awesome or famous.  I don’t really care.  I just like doing what I do.  I don’t over-think it (except in posts like this), don’t over-edit, don’t over-produce.  I prefer to keep it fresh, move on to new songs instead of perfecting existing ones.  I want to write a great song someday, but I want it to happen naturally as if by accident.

I guess that I’m here to tease that I’m considering release approach options due to having some new (and previously-unreleased older) songs recorded – more than enough for an album already, despite the expectation that the next one won’t arrive until 2026 at earliest, taking into account my typical “thirteen-new-originals-every-two-years-in-even-numbered-years-on-my-birthday” schedule.

There’s nothing wrong with having morbid curiosity about something or someone.  You know how to delete your browser history, right?  No one has to know that you like to read random therapeutic ramblings in the online personal journal of someone who is not a professional author.  (Technically, I am a professional writer, but more on that later.)  

This is, after all, THE authoritative source of newsworthy information about Scott Cooley music.  Some of you like some of what I’ve already released, and are therefore naturally interested in knowing when there might be more.  Just as with my music, I dabble in various styles of blogging, and the last ultra-long post was probably a chore due to the length.  I appreciate knowing people read what I write (about myself).

Were you the type who snuck into a sibling’s room when they were gone to read their diary when you were growing up?  It’s not uncommon.  Whatever the motivation to read this blog, it’s probably not much different than the motivation to listen to the songs of an unpopular amateur singer-songwriter like me in the first place.  What you listen to in your free time is your business, and you probably have a set of headphones for when other people are around.

I’m not ruling out that you are proud to tell anyone anytime that you like the music Scott Cooley creates, and further, that you like reading the web log of his thoughts about being someone who creates music.  There are much worse things to spend your time doing.  

Enjoy it while you can, especially the music, because it probably won’t be around forever.  The labels and streaming services seemingly can’t wait to justify an excuse to take my songs down, as they keep trying to establish new reasons to weed out those who are not popular enough.

Long after I’m dead, maybe this blog will still be here though.  I’m sure there’s a process survivors can follow to request the takedown of dead relative’s blog, as with social media profiles, but some choose to leave them up.  It’s weird to think about.  

Most people have really short attention spans, shorter than in years past, and they are likely to get even shorter in the future.  Less people read, and if they do, they prefer the short character limits of social media over novels.  Length-wise, the posts herein are somewhere in between.

Yet, I’m able to access some stats that a surprising number of people out there in the world actually seem to have both the required patience and desire to read my ultra-long posts.  I assume they are interested in reading about some old guy writing about pretending to be a songwriter and recording artist, while almost actually (and arguably) becoming one.

In the future though, what kind of person would be interested in the struggles and very small wins of someone who wrote songs on an acoustic guitar, recorded them in his house, and then released them online for worldwide streaming for a couple of decades, starting in the early 2000s?

There would have to be some curiosity about what life was like for such a person during these times in addition to the recorded material.  I suppose for posterity’s sake, I should include more about my reaction to major news events or something along those lines.  From what I can tell, my audience is intelligent and tolerant – of both long blog reads and long albums – with much longer attention spans than average.  Congratulate yourselves.

Historically speaking, it has been unique that what I’ve done was even possible.  Big changes occurred in the music and tech industries during my peak creative years.  People in earlier generations were not able to buy affordable home recording equipment, nor were they able to just release their recordings so that anyone in the world could find them and listen to them.

When I hear about some dead musician supposedly having a ton of recorded music that they never released that I’ll never get to hear, assuming I’ve discovered and become a fan of what they did release, I kind of wish I could hear it.  I know estates and lawyers likely prevent it, which is too bad.

On the other hand, sometimes there’s a seemingly endless amount of exploitative repackaging and remastering and re-releasing by labels that seems excessively greedy and definitely overkill.  Sometimes posthumous releases are disappointing, and you understand the decisions why certain songs were not released in the first place.

Other times, you hear it and think they were really on to something, and that if they hadn’t died, they would’ve gone off in a new direction that would’ve been even better, etc.  You can put out your best available now, have subsequent albums decline in quality.  You can save the best for last and die without it being released.

Increasingly, the current trend is that artists are coming out with albums that have way more songs on them than what would fit on two sides of an actual vinyl record.  I guess they do it because they can, the digital streaming technology doesn’t have the physical limits, and the consumer demand doesn’t really matter.

Arguably, it is a way to make more money by gaming the system, but I’m not sure how that works exactly.  I don’t have the issue of needing to make money from my music.  Well, I need to, but I should say, I don’t expect to.  If you’re not popular enough these days, they give you the space for your songs, but don’t pay you at all for them.  If I count in any way, I exist as a solo artist, theoretically in the public eye, only because they allow this.

Pre-internet, no one could just type whatever they wanted about any topic (or just about themselves) and publish it so anyone could potentially find it and read it.  So, if I were born a few decades earlier, I wouldn’t be a blogger or a prolific solo artist.  

I know I’m not super talented or skilled in what I do, but I do it anyway because I can.  Lately, I’m thinking I could be even more prolific, likely at the expense of quality, and hardly anyone would notice or care, so why not?

12 studio albums in 20 years is significant to me, a milestone of sorts.  One every two years is what I decided to shoot for.  Mine always have at least 13 songs.  If they each had 7 or something, I'd have released way more albums, but it's just what works for me.

This also puts me over the 150 released original songs mark.  154 is now the number of songs I've written (that I've made public).  Arguably, I could've done more weeding out along the way.  The volume isn’t really something to be proud of, I guess.  If they all suck, who cares?  You know what I mean.  The quantity matters not.

How often you release music says something about you as an artist.  The main obvious thing is how much free time you have available for a creative hobby.  I’m a part-timer at most when it comes to writing songs and recording music.  I’ve always worked a full-time job, and have had a career working primarily as a Technical Writer for almost 30 years.

Back in the 60s, bands like the Beatles would release 2 new albums per year.  If you don't have day jobs and that's all you do, and you have George Martin and others doing a lot of the work for you, why not?  

When you’re someone who has a lot of other interests, like earning money from a regular job to pay the bills, and you’re also married, there’s only so much available space in your life for a hobby.  My main one happens to be song writing and recording.

Factor in vacations and travel, hiking, going out to dinner, concerts, parties, family get togethers, reading, watching movies, listening to music, other forms of entertainment, etc.  I’ve also been a dog owner for years, I’ve been an avid skier, a tennis player, and someone who occasionally likes to go sailing.

Increasingly as I get older, and especially since Covid, my outside activities have been winding down, becoming less frequent.  The financial constraints are real, but I’d like to think I’ve become a little wiser, planning for a future that will hopefully include a retirement.

Most people don’t like their jobs that much, and I count myself among them.  I’ve worked as a technical communications professional for most of my adult life now, and I’ve often found myself saying that I hate it, despite it paying fairly well.  I’m really good at it if I do say so myself, but there’s nothing about it I enjoy, except the lower-middle class income.  The one good thing I guess is that it’s so boring that it makes me crave creativity, thus the blogging and song writing.

When you work full time, you have a few hours in the evenings, and weekends.  Then you have to consider that I’m a totally self-contained solo artist who does not ever farm anything out.  I blog about my hobby in the form of very long reads (like this will probably be), so that takes a certain amount of time too.

It’s a lot when you’re totally independent and DIY.  Time is one thing, but my energy levels have been winding down as I’ve gotten older too.  It happens.  Quite often, I find myself just being happy reading instead of picking up a guitar and hoping ideas come to me for songs.

Then I also maintain my web site that I created for myself and my hobby.  I do a few social media posts per year as well.  All in support of engaging with you, my fans, while in the mode of my alter ego of pretending to be a solo artist, faking it ‘till I make it, as they say.

I talk about "they" a lot.  They are the music business establishment insiders and self-proclaimed experts who share advice online.  I occasionally read some of it.  One thing they say is an important trend, that perhaps I should try to get onboard with, is that artists should release music more frequently these days.

Why?  I wondered, and they said it's due to "today's fast-paced streaming culture where attention spans are short and listeners expect new content regularly."

I've thought about the one-song-at-a-time strategy.  As a huge fan of solo artist Ultimate Rick Jones, for example, I subscribe because every couple months, he releases a new single.  It's satisfying, so I understand the benefits completely.

I'm not what you'd call a singles artist to begin with, and I have an established tradition of one full-length album every two years.  I bought a few 45s back in the day, but I really like albums.  I grew up with them.  I have a bunch of CDs too, but now I’ve moved on to paying for YouTube Music with every song ever available, which is really great for music fans.

I know every artist should have an EP, a double album, a live album, a compilation album, etc., and a bunch of singles in their catalog, but I like to stick with what works for me.

I suppose I could decrease the time between album releases.  The risk is of course less weeding out for quality control.  Realistically, I'm not known for high quality to begin with, so this shouldn't be an issue.

The only other issue is not being able to keep up the pace, creating an expectation I can't live up to.  I've somewhat promised one album every two years, and I've kept it for twenty.

They say there are a bunch of other benefits:

• keeps you in the public eye

• engages your audience more consistently

• maximizes streaming revenue

• builds momentum through a larger catalog

• increases visibility

• keeps you on listener's radar

• fosters a stronger fan connection

• appeases the algorithms for a wider audience

• allows for more experimentation

I need to do what works best for me.  Although I've never really "broken" as an artist, I am at the same time a fairly "established" artist, which makes the right approach challenging to determine.  They say nowadays you should start as a singles artist, and later on become an albums artist, not sure why exactly, but maybe it makes some sense.  I’m already an albums artist, so it would be weird to switch to becoming a singles artist.

There are a lot of previously weeded out songs that didn't make the cut on my albums that I could make available, but they didn't make the cut for reasons that made sense at the time.

That said, I'm always surprised that what I thought were some of my weakest songs have been among other people's favorites.  So, this is a factor to take into consideration for sure.

I keep thinking that if I can ever afford to be truly retired from a day job, I'll have more time for this hobby of mine.  On the other hand, it could be that having limited free time has been an advantage.

Since that's not likely to happen any time soon, and since I do have quite a bit of unreleased material, I may shift my thinking about this.

They say don't die with the music in you.  Don't die without letting people hear it all.  I've attempted to exhaust the backlog of songs before, but I keep writing more.  If I die tomorrow, at least I released as many as I did, though there are quite a few I wish I hadn’t.  There’s always that risk that you look back in retrospect decide you could’ve kept a few to yourself that other didn’t really ever need to hear.

There's always the risk of death, too, premature or otherwise.  Accidents happen.  Some posthumous releases are excellent.  Not sure if any surviving members of my family could figure out how to release my unreleased stuff.  Probably not.  It wouldn’t be lucrative in any way, that’s for sure.

Hence, I guess I can ramp it up a little.  Why not?  Put out the bad and the ugly, interspersed with some good.  I've sort of always done that anyway!  There are ebbs and flows in even the best artist’s careers, as we all know.  Except maybe the Beatles.

I'm sure there are solo artists and bands who ended on a good note, and their last album was their best-ever.  Most of the time though, their best album came earlier in their careers.  It's just the way it is, I suspect.

I am certainly impressed when I check out the discographies of artists I like and see that they were incredibly prolific.  Neil Young comes to mind as a guy who releases a new album every single year.  As a streaming fan, there are several on each album I impatiently skip, but possibly return to and learn to appreciate after subsequent listens.

So, this is all to say, I’m thinking about releasing music more often.  There’s a part of me that of course wants to keep waiting until I have better material first, but then there’s another part of me that wants to get it out there before I die.  You want people to hear your best.

If I were to select songs for a Best Of Scott Cooley album, there are maybe an average of two songs per album I’d choose, some more, some less, and with a dozen albums, it would have to be a double or a 2-disc box set or something.  

On the other hand, I could easily name a few songs from each album I’ve released that I could’ve left off in hindsight.  I’m sure that’s true for the famous popular artists too.  Surprisingly, however, people have occasionally told me they really like some of the songs that are on my personal cringe/regret list.

As 2025 rolls on, I’m thinking about my music-related plans.  I find myself in a situation where I have some unreleased material written and recorded, which presents the inevitable dilemma of deciding what to release and when and in what order.  No one can just keep out-doing themselves indefinitely, despite any self-imposed pressure, and of course we all want to end on a good note, but it’s easier said than done.

No one wants to be like Boston or Violent Femmes to name a couple whose debuts were awesome and then all subsequent follow-ups never measured up.  One needs to stay in the game.  Another motivating factor is to get the music out there before the music business powers that be close the gate on letting me in entirely.  There are indications this not out of the realm of possibility.

If I lead with my absolute best available first, there’s less risk the record corporation / streaming corporation powers will employ their “artist-centric” (translation:  not streamed enough) rationale to delete my stuff, but if I lead with the worst to eventually end with my best, they may just find a reason to speed up their not-popular-enough platform removal process.

What I haven’t yet just come out and said is that I might release a new album this year, and it might not be as great as my last one.  You’ve now been warned, but the good news is you have something to look forward to that you don’t have to wait until 2026 for.  I think I’ll go for it.  I’m gearing up.  

I may have blogged my way into deciding to release an album that has more songs on it than usual, with an overall song quality level that is below the bar I’ve set for myself, which admittedly isn’t all that high.  The only thing I have to lose is the $9.99 to release it.

As usual, I feel weird blogging about myself as if I’m some serious solo artist.  People can sort of pretend they are celebrities in this day and age online.  I want more streams, yes, but don’t want to be a famous person.  But I contemplate these things, via blogging, to you few readers I know I have, in order to make sense of my thoughts on matters like these, knowing full well that they are extremely inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.

I listen back to this unreleased stockpile of songs I wrote and have recorded, and sometimes I think none of them are really release-worthy, but other times I think they’re not bad and wouldn’t be too embarrassing if other people heard them.  I built a tiny bit of momentum with my last album, 2024’s “Sunrise,” and I think I might be wise to keep it going, while able to, lest people forget about me. 

This blog is my preferred way to engage with you.  I guess I do it to keep you interested, to literally keep you posted.  I want you to know I’ve got a few “in the can” as they say, and I guess I’m in the process of deciding if you and the rest of the world should have them available to potentially find and listen to or not.  I do it to give you a hint that I may release more music in the future, more frequently, and hopefully thereby reduce the risk of losing you as fans.  None of us want to be forgotten, but most of us will be eventually.  That’s life, my friends.

An Informal Living Room Jam Among Friends

 What You’re Getting Yourself Into before listening to Scott Cooley

Before you hit play on any of my music, you should know what you’re getting yourself into.  If you haven’t heard any of my music before, you might be surprised.  It’s not like anything that’s popular right now.  It’s not perfect, and not all that professional-sounding.  Sometimes music that isn’t awesome by music teacher standards can be really appealing.

Historically, people have gotten into music that wasn’t polished to perfection.  Before recorded music, it was always experienced live.  You can picture friends and family on the front porch, picking banjos and blowing into jugs in rural America.  Cowboys playing Home on the Range on harmonica around the camp fire.  Those Old Weird America records by Harry Smith and field recordings by Alan Lomax are so cool, and I for one am glad someone made them.

Going way back to skiffle, for example, known for a blend of American folk and blues played on homemade instruments, back in the 50s, this genre had a big influence on early British invasion rock like The Beatles, which led to the Beatles-influenced “garage rock” in the 60s, there have been brief surges of popularity.

The Grateful Dead started as a “jug” band, playing all acoustic instruments, and blending a lot of different American styles of music.  They became pioneers in what is now called Americana in addition to what is now called jam-band music.  They were also arguably one of those garage bands influenced by the Beatles.

Before it sort of morphed into punk, garage rock was sort of like a combination of surf rock, fuzzbox electric guitar effects, played with an amateur quality, influenced by psychedelia, with a DIY approach, lyrics about lying girls, and a raw, naïve quality.  All but the electric fuzz apply to my sound, although I’ve rarely played in a garage.

I have called my music “acoustic garage rock” and it’s fairly accurate, though it’s not an officially defined genre anywhere.  As far as I know, I made it up.  I’ve been heavily influenced by Tenacious D, seriously, and although I’m not as good or as funny as them, I like the way they described their music as being “heavy acoustic” which some of mine might be as well.

To describe my music with genres that are somewhat more familiar, or that are more commonly understood maybe, I’d go with these:

• Slacker rock:  American indie rock and lo-fi music that is laid back and relaxed, and thus more "authentic" than sellouts of contemporary rock.  Misplayed notes, out-of-tune instruments, cool laziness, mellow swagger, made by generation X'ers.  All accurate when describing my music.

• Lo-fi:  Low fidelity production sound quality is a deliberate stylistic choice.  Imperfections recorded in bedroom studios are intentionally left in.  The DIY punk ethos is there, it's primitive, and has some cultural nostalgia.  Minimal production on cheap equipment, amateurish, raw and unsophisticated.  Again, all me.

• Indie folk:  Usually acoustic guitar-oriented.  Independent from being signed to a major label.  Creative freedom and control, resistance to popular mainstream culture, realistic, stripped-back, strays from sounding commercial, earnest and emotive lyrics.  A rock approach to contemporary folk, often by singer-songwriters, using acoustic instrumentation.  Yep, me.

• DIY:  Circumnavigation of the corporate mainstream music industry by doing everything yourself with limited means.  Check.

• Singer-songwriter:  Writes their own lyrics/melodies, performs their own music, typically on acoustic guitar.  Emphasis on the song itself over the performance.  Personal lyrics.  Me.

Could my music be slacker rock?  

Am I a slacker?  As a student, I am proud I did as little as possible to pass so I could prioritize my social life.  There was no draft for me to dodge, but I was involved in some delinquency in my teenage years, which carried over to my young 20s in the early 1990s, and as a member of Generation X, I was apathetic about political and social causes, and since then, I've been aimless in developing a “conventional” career, but I've always worked hard at whatever I've done to pay the bills.  I’m definitely a slacker when it comes to punctuation and run-on sentences, aren’t I?  It's true I don't put much effort into writing or recording songs either, and it's true that rock music is my biggest influence.  

"Lo-fi indie rock originating in the United States in the early 90s" sounds about right.  Yeah, I guess "slacker rock" is not a bad way to describe my music, and it might not go without saying that I do music for fun, not for work.  I'd like to think I have a mellow swagger and a cool laziness as an artist, because I don't try very hard.  It's a hobby.  I am definitely laid back and relaxed about it, and it's certainly authentic music that I create, despite not taking it too seriously.  I don't really feel closely aligned with or sound like artists who get put into this category such as Pavement, Beck, Alex G, Mac DeMarco, or Courtney Barnett, but I do like their music.  I have my own style, do my own thing, and still struggle to define it, but maybe this one is the closest.

So, then to put them in a better-sounding order, I might type them like this:

Lo-fi / DIY / Singer-songwriter / Indie folk / Slacker rock

It’s a lot to wrap your head around, I know.  It begs the question “why would anyone like music that isn’t perfect?”  I think I may have an answer:

“An Informal Living Room Jam Among Friends”

I intentionally record my songs with the strumming of an acoustic guitar being the primary instrument sound so that if I ever play live and solo, it won’t sound a whole lot different from the records.  Also intentional is that I don’t want it to sound so polished that I can’t reproduce it live.

Here I find myself revisiting the topics of “understanding your audience” and “describing yourself as an artist” – and the challenges non-performing/self-releasing music acts like me have with them.  

If you enjoy complex arrangements and virtuosic performances, or if you have high objective standards, my music won’t be for you.  Subjectively, however, since I’ve been an artist for quite a long time now, people have become familiar with my music, and when I offer something new, they say they like it due to a feeling of nostalgia.  It’s like a fix for something they were already familiar with, without knowing they necessarily craved more of it.  

Even though it’s not considered cool or popular or critically acclaimed, the combination of things my music offers gives them a hit of adrenaline.  Most importantly, I’ve been told my music stirs up memories for people, and despite my lack of skill/talent, it makes them remember certain times in their lives, or people they love.  In other words, it causes people to feel emotional.

Chicks Dig It

I ran across some data recently about my audience, and the analytics showed that my listeners are predominantly female.  I had no idea.  As I continue to write and record new songs, that is in the back of my mind.  The appeal to women certainly isn’t my body or dance moves in my music videos, nor would it be my vocal chops, so it’s got to have something to do with the music and the songs.  

https://app.chartmetric.com/artist/991782

Maybe it’s the lighthearted humor, the simplicity, the sensitivity, the intimacy of being an acoustic guitar guy with a lot of love songs.  I think I’m going to really lean into that more.  Why not?  It’s a good thing, and maybe it’s confirmation of the emotional response I’ve heard my music produces, which is what all songwriters want.

The Modern, Informal, Intimate Live Experience

I have a feeling that many of you have been in someone’s living room before when a few amateur musicians were hanging out together.  Sitting on sofas and chairs in somewhat of a circle, playing acoustic guitars and hand percussion, having a great time.  A few musically-inclined friends who come over to your house for an impromptu, unplugged jam session.  Now imagine me as the lead singer-songwriter involved in such a get-together.  Someone hands you a shaker or tambourine, and you’re intimately involved.  That’s the essence of what I want my recorded music to sound like.  You either get into it, or you just don’t get it.

I’m reminded of a quote by one of my favorite songwriters:

“There's always that argument to make - that you're in better company historically if people don't understand what you're doing.” --Elliott Smith

He also said “If you play acoustic guitar, you’re the depressed, sensitive guy”

Wouldn’t it be cool if history shows I was misunderstood?  My amateur quality can be appealing, so I’ve been told, and maybe there will be increased interest in the future.  I have been depressed and sensitive before, and people have probably struggled to understand my music before.  

Trending Upward Again, History Repeats

However, there is a trend I’ve become aware of recently that people are generally starting to like my style of music.  It’s almost as if it’s a backlash against the formulaic fakeness of current popular music.  Music streaming has offered a bit of a democracy wherein consumers are trying to find homemade music that is more real-sounding, and it’s showing up as a shift in listening preferences.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m in no danger of the major labels assimilating me due to this trend, but if they reached out and booked me some real-studio time, I’d still prefer any recordings I made to sound pretty close to what I already do myself.

A Guilty Pleasure

People have told me that my music – especially from the early Scott Cooley albums – is what they consider their “guilty pleasure” music.  It may be the fact that it is overly simplistic, slightly off-key, corny, or even cheesy, but they say it has special meaning, brings back happy memories, or gives them strong positive emotions when they hear it, even though it’s not technically good.  Despite the obvious flaws, they enjoy it anyway.  That is exactly what I thought when I wrote and recorded it!  None of my music has ever been what you’d call “well received,” but maybe some of it is underrated.

My music is rough around the edges, and that's the point.  It’s the antithesis of the over-produced mainstream.  Raw and organic, pure and simple.  It’s a big part of the appeal.  Anti-algorithm and anti-perfection scenes are flourishing.  Online, yet still "underground" with a foot in analogue revival, it's almost like a power-to-the-people, counter-culture phenomenon that is happening.  "Long-tail" artists like me who employ rudimentary DIY production techniques in home studios offer something people can hear and appreciate:  a really short distance between song idea and recorded output.

Between Two Worlds

It's somewhere in-between a live band recording and a pro studio recording.  Even though I’m the only musician, I like to nail each take in each track live, then blend them.  If I don’t, and it’s not too disturbing, I leave it that way.  I don’t use the digital tools that make everything sound perfect.  I want it to be real, the way it would sound if you were hanging out in the room with me when I recorded it.  I’ll admit sometimes I’m overwhelmed by the thought of re-doing things, and usually conclude the extra hassle isn’t worth my time.  My abilities are limited, and I don’t hide that.  I do the best I can with what I’m capable of, and people appreciate that.

It's also somewhere in-between a songwriter demo and fully-produced studio recording.  Real sounds made by real voices and real instruments.  I want the music to generally sound like if it were played 100 years ago before electric guitars existed, it wouldn’t be a whole lot different.  The fewer digital electronic effects or tools used, the better, in my opinion.  I’ve called it acoustic garage rock.  It has the DIY lo-fi amateur enthusiasm of garage rock, without the fuzz distortion, and let’s face it, a living room is better than a garage anyway.

Low Brow Rising

Since I release my music to the masses via streaming, that sort of sets it apart from music performed live for small audiences.  Although I don’t write notation, I have created a songbook.  It’s far from classical music, but I consider some of my songs to be classics and most of them to be art.  If my music is folk, as some may define it, I suppose it is therefore considered a product of low culture, which means both I as its creator and its consumers have somewhat crude tastes.  

Theoretically, folk reflects the common themes of the lower/working classes in the community.  I can admit that a few of my songs could be considered by some to be either vulgar, in poor taste, or lacking in artistic merit.  On the other hand, I feel there is overall a lot of depth that would be considered more characteristic of more high-brow music, especially when compared with other modern pop music.  That’s why I often say it has a certain level of sophistication, but not too much.

Elitists Welcome

To my knowledge, no high society people have ever discredited my music.  My music appeals to simple, basic human emotions and offers a perspective of innocence and an escape from real world problems.  I happen to know that many elite people have enjoyed my music, and realize it may be an example of them “slumming” although I never create it specifically to appeal to them.  I do think my music is somewhat subtle and refined.  Their curiosity leads to some amount of intellectual entertainment.

People who get into music that isn’t perfect by technical standards do so because they simply find enjoyment in the authentic quality.  I’ve been told people become fans of my music because they appreciate the spontaneous improvisational effort I made, and feel an emotional connection somehow, despite my lack of proficiency.  They may know me personally, I might remind them of someone they know, they may feel nostalgic for the good times they had playing a shaker while their friends played acoustic guitars at their house, they may find it to be more genuine and relatable, they may get a sense of belonging, etc.  

The Intent Matters

I intentionally record my songs so that they don’t sound a whole lot different than when I play them live, so that if I ever do play live, it’s not a shock.  I occasionally entertain with makeshift bands, but for the most part prefer to go solo.  The other instruments may not be there, but the primary ingredients - the strumming of chords on an acoustic guitar, and my singing voice – are what makes the songs sound like me anyway.  Take this live version of my “hit” for example:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1fuhZiKFj2Y

An informal living room jam among friends (or as shown above, family). Could be the best way I’ve come up with to describe the style I strive for yet…and due to what I’ve learned about my fanbase, ultimately, they would be mostly female friends.  😉  Yep, that’s how I want it to sound.