The Style Council was one of my favorite groups back on my teen years. Some of its songs still fit me really well on my mid years. I wold even dare to say only now I really get the point.

There were some verses I particularly liked to repeat (eyes shut to enjoy the moment):

I am only sad in a natural way

and I enjoy, sometimes, feeling this way

Sad in a natural way in a great pitch, but what does it mean? It is funny, but so many years after listening it, I finally felt them. The melancholic joy of a natural sadness is something hard to explain, but I knew I was experiencing it when I finally hit the “send” button.

I was a hard to finish task, suggested by a mentorship on business management for musicians I am taking, and it consisted of making a playlist of my unpublished songs, the ones which are on phase 0, roughly more than a draft, just my voice and nothing else.

What a difficult thing it was to open dusty archives and come across old recordings! It was like leafing through a photo album of older versions of myself, and I had no idea how outdated I was about myself. So many surprises! And I mean surprise on every level of the word.

Some songs were far more developed than I remembered. Others were mere fragments that worked better once connected. I had much better finished material than I remembered, and truly enjoyed what I found out when I looked closely at it. But if I was so pleased, why did I feel “sad in a natural way”?

Because in those songs of my past self were also my past stories, pains and joys. The odes to the objects of my passions, the memories of the moments lived.

If I could, how much advice would I not have given to my past self! Would I have lost the idea of many songs? Sure, but it would also have saved me many nights of sleep and many tears, as well.Would it have been worth it?

How many of those experiences could I have done without and still be the person I am today?But would it really have been better? Would I be a better me, so to speak? In other words, would I have been able to create what I create today if I hadn’t had these experiences?

I highly doubt it. Not that my current persona is the pinnacle of human development, far from it, but it is indisputably the result of the experiences I have had so far. For better or for worse.

If being stuck in the past sounds like being a prisoner of a specific period of your life, pretending the past never existed sounds like a detachment from reality. Of course, looking back on the past is never the same. As we move forward in our lives, the conflicts we have overcome tend to seem silly and we ask ourselves: “How could I have suffered so much over something so unimportant?”

But instead of invalidating my past selves, I think it is much more productive to keep the precious lessons they have to teach me, and use them whenever a new challenge presents itself: After all, yesterday’s difficulty also seemed insurmountable at some point, and yet here we are.

Have I overcome all the difficulties I encountered along the way? Of course not! Some I have overcome, others I have simply bypassed, and there is always the risk that I will still have to overcome them at the next turn. It is all part of the game.

It might sound sad, but only in a natural way.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

It has been a slow first half of the year for me in music business. I do try to keep myself busy, but it has been hard to avoid having some serious conversations with myself about failure, aka “the forbidden word of contemporary times”.

Failure has become a sin, a bad word that we shy away from in conversation. It carries a heavy weight in our craving-for-quick-results society, where success is relentlessly celebrated and expected at every turn. But the obsession with immediate gratification leaves little room for the valuable lessons that come from stumbling and falling short.

Although the idea of what does it mean to be a hit or a failure is hard to describe, we all know how does failure feels. Even the mere possibility of it lurks in the corners of our ambitions, feeding on our fears and insecurities, often making us hesitant to dream big or pursue our passions wholeheartedly.

Yet, in those open-hearted talks with myself, I have come to realize that failure is not an end but rather a crucial part of the journey toward success.

The first positive side of failure is that it only comes to those who have tried. and trying is always better than having the question “what would have happened if I had…” constantly haunting you. It also teaches you resilience, reveals character, and provides invaluable lessons that may foster growth and personal development, if you let it happen.

But, maybe the most important thing about failure is that it provides a very good scale for your passion. How so? Well, I believe we all agree that failure is not something pleasant. It hurts the ego, it brings you confusion and disappointment, but that said, how hard you want to give your passion a second try?

If despite the bad experience and even without any security that things will work out the next time, even though you want to try it again, then there is no doubt you are dealing with something very important to you, something that you simply cannot do without, your true vocation if you will. In short: you are a person with a quest, and the way I see it, people with quests are the best.

The world is a mess and if your are willing to go through all the trouble (possible failure included) it is because of a calling, and that is huge! So huge that the ups and downs will be part of your way, but they will not affect the core of what you do.

When you manage to see obstacles as essential experiences, fluctuations will not affect the essence of what you do. Your commitment remains unwavering, like a compass, steady and free from the shackles of societal expectations.

Sure we all think about quitting here and then. Sure we all need a little help here and there. And sure, we might come to the conclusion that maybe it is time to finish a chapter when the weight of our struggles feels unbearable. However, it is crucial to remember that under no circumstances should one take a drastic decision based on a singular failure, as mistakes are often stepping stones to growth and success.

Instead of letting temporary setbacks define our path, embrace then (as graceful as you can) and let them lead you to a more profound understanding of what it means to persevere and truly strive for a goal.

Be seeing you,

G.F.

A few weeks ago I saw a call for applications for the use of a recording studio. The application form was not very complicated, but I had to write a description of the project. Since I had not come up with a name yet, I started thinking about a good one that would convey what I wanted to express.

When I finally managed to think of a title that I liked, something that truly resonated with the theme I was aiming for, I opened the application page with a sense of anticipation, only to discover that all the positions had already been filled.

A wave of disappointment washed over me and left me with a harsh (and not exactly new), but valuable lesson that I should never forget (again): if you wait too long to seize an opportunity, you may miss it. And how much time I wasted looking for the perfect title, which will now be shelved until a new opportunity arises! It wold for sure have been better to send a less perfect title that could had been modified later, but now it was just too late.

Time, relentless, marches on, urging us to act decisively. We know what happens when we refuse this call: the more we hesitate, the more we allow our ambitions and passions to fade into the background, leaving us with a sense of regret and what could have been. Every moment we hesitate not only allows our ambitions to fade but also creates a chasm between us and our goals, ultimately limiting our control over life.

The fear of making the wrong choice can paralyze you and it is not hard to find why. After all, making decisions, either big or small, can be very hard for numerous reasons, such as the potential for failure, the expectation of others, or the innate desire for perfection.

However, it is important to recognize that each choice we make, regardless of its outcome, contributes to our personal growth. Our control over our lives is subject to the control of time over all things, including ourselves. Every moment wasted in indecision can lead to lost opportunities, and many lost opportunities are the stuff of which lost dreams are made.

The ability to weigh options and consider consequences is a crucial skill that builds confidence over time, ultimately making the next decision a bit lighter than the previous one, since we begin to understand ourselves, our choices and their potential impacts better.

In the situations that life presents, it is not always up to us to make the decision, but when there is this gap, we must use our capacity for agency to the maximum. As hard as decisions may be, they are our opportunity to assert ourselves; otherwise, it is life that will invariably decide for us, and we may find ourselves being swept along by circumstances rather than steering our own course.

Each choice has the potential to guide us toward opportunities we never imagined possible or to steer us away from our goals. Embracing the potential of our agency allows us to shape our destinies, ensuring that we do not merely react to the tides of life but actively sail towards our desired shores.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

At the end of last month I went into the studio twice to record. I have already talked about the experience of the first day here, and at the end of this text you will find the video of the second day of recording. The track is a samba and is called “Todo Domingo É Assim” (Every Sunday It Is The Same). The next step is to mix and master the material while planning the release strategy.

Recording work, like rehearsals, involves a lot of repetition and preparation, and the final product is a future prospect. The way I see it, the opposite of this situation, the moment in which you deliver the product is the moment of the live performance. And talking abou live performances, last week I had a delightful experience at a concert by the great master of the harmonica Mauricio Einhorn.

In a very inspired evening, four musicians had great fun on a small stage and entertained us even more with impeccable performances and fantastic improvisations. The fact that the band leader was about to turn 93, in top form, made the night even more memorable.

And how beautiful it is to see the affection of the audience for the musicians! But of all these exciting aspects, nothing compares to watching the musicians perform on stage. If there is a face for a blessing, for a state of ecstasy and transcendence, it is the ones of performing artists doing their thing: dancers dancing, painters during the act of painting, writers during the act of writing and so on.

When it comes to musicians performing, each performer will have their own way of experiencing the bliss: some will close their eyes, immersing themselves completely in the music, allowing the melodies to wash over them like a warm wave, while others will contort their faces in a vivid reflection of the emotions stirred within.

There are also those who seem so intensely focused, as if the only thing present at that moment were the instrument itself, and in this trance-like state, they create a connection that transcends the physical realm. Others may even mark the time with subtle movements, tapping their feet or nodding their heads, creating a rhythmic pulse that echoes through the space, and for me, it is a spectacle in itself to watch them, as each performance tells its own story, enveloping the audience in a shared dreamlike aura, which not even the forty-degree Celsius heat outside and the wobbly air conditioning can disturb.

Perhaps this is (another) good definition for art: it is what makes you greater than the adversities of life, a powerful force that transforms our struggles into something beautiful and meaningful.

When facing challenges, art acts as a refuge, allowing us to express our emotions and thoughts, fostering resilience. It is a powerful tool to turn pain into creativity and sorrow into hope, ultimately making it possible to rise above circumstances and connect with something bigger than us.

It is a beacon of light, illuminating our potential for growth and renewal.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

This week I am going to record some new songs. The recording studio environment is not unanimous among musicians. Some say that the recording atmosphere never matches the energy on stage and therefore would be a lesser representation of the real potential of the artist, and I understand their point. In my case, however, I love both situations.

Sure there are some shortcomings in capturing sounds. I once heard a guitarist say something very clever about using microphones that also applies to recording sessions: “It’s a losing battle.” Indeed.

There is no denying that no device will be able to reproduce the natural voice, with all its imperfections and unique sonic details, during a live, unamplified performance. There is something magical about this unmediated contact between the voice of the singer and the ears of the audience, no arguing with that.

Another interesting aspect that greatly differentiates these two types of performance is the ability to correct your voice. If you, like me, perform live without using any technology to correct your voice (Pro Tools, etc.), then you will understand what I mean. When you go up on stage, everything is for real and it only happens once: Did you get the lyrics wrong? Keep going! Did your voice fail? Keep going! The stage is perhaps one of the places that best illustrates the maxim “The show must go on”. Recording, however, is a completely different story.

You will always want to record one more line, re-record a verse, try out some idea for the chorus. And even when everything goes well, you will inevitably hear from your producer (in my case, from myself): ‘I want to do another take, just in case.’ In a live performance, the song is finished when it is finished, but in a studio session, well, the work is never really finished, or you will never really consider it finished.

I think that was the great moral I took from the video in which I recorded the entire recording session of a song (yes, just one). There are moments of great discovery, about how an ultra-powerful microphone was not the best suited for my voice or the difficulties of recording a guide vocal.

It is not an edited video. It is raw material, just like that which we have when we leave a studio, before the mixing process. It is a raw record of one of the aspects of the job of a singer job, but perhaps it would be interesting to you because it is also an example of how to deal with a team and, above all, of accepting that, many times, it is the clock that will dictate the pace of your creativity.

The song is called “Cadê Você?” (Where Are You?), and I guess I can call it a waltz. The recording took place in the studio of the State Library Park in Rio de Janeiro. The musician who accompanies me is Guido Tornaghi, and the technicians are Leo Nzazi and Davi Amorim.

Enjoy!

Recording session: Cadê Você? (Geisa Fernandes)

Be seeing you!

G.F.