When separated from my means of creating music, I grow desperate and full of excitement for what could be. Over the course of days it builds and builds, and eventually peaks. It is then that I feel as though I haven’t a single obstacle between my imagination, sequencer and keyboard.

And therein lies the power of deprivation. I forget that things are not so easy to translate from a formless medium like my imagination to a cold, hard, digital existence within Logic, Live, or FL Studio. But there is something wrong with that.

Does my “block” lie in my process? The way I coax the melody from my head? I feel as though I shouldn’t need to coax at all! It should be easy and flowing. Like it used to be. Of course, it is not always easy, and I recognize that. However, should it be this hard?

So the power of deprivation becomes a wild card. Is it my block dissolving when not concerned with MIDI quantization, compression thresholds, and latency compensation? Or is it just me ignorantly forgetting the reality and gravity of my situation? My status as a tortured artist? I hate that term, but there it is. It suits me, and that in and of itself is pretty terrible for me, personally.

As The Animals so eloquently put it, “We’ve got to get out of this place, if it’s the last thing we do.”

As a listener, I find the vast majority of improvisational jazz music to be extremely roundabout and boring. The same instrumentation, the same styles, and the same scales. There are exceptions, such as Miles Davis, but I can say that my attraction to Miles is due to some specific detail that catches me. Specifically, the trumpeting.

However, when given the chance to play in a jazz setup of any sort, I find myself brimming with enthusiasm. If there is something to be said about the improvisational aspects of cool jazz, it’s that a romantic sense of danger is always looming. Your next chord could be dissonant or your momentum could easily result in a fumble. Of course I cannot speak for everyone, as I am sure seasoned jazz musicians fear little aside from a broken guitar string or drum head.

To tangent off, another extremely interesting phenomenon that is born from improvisation is the simultaneous self-reliance and dependency on fellow musicians. If I had to choose one showcase of non-verbal communication, I would be hard pressed to find something more appropriate than a trio of improvisational jazz musicians.

I think it’s this deep communication that makes the experience of playing improvisational jazz so different than listening to it. To a passerby, little more is heard than the somewhat predictable sound of instruments. To a performer, hundreds of words are silently exchanged, a story begins and ends, and through the lack of spoken word, true communication is achieved.

So I’ve gone and bought a whole bunch of gear.

I picked myself up a pair of brand new JBL LSR432P’s for $1050 — nearly $500 under list. They sound freaking phenomenal. To make matters better, they come with the whole room treatment mic deal, so I can quickly eliminate hugely biased mix issues.

Secondly, I got myself a nice cardioid condenser mic, a stand, pop filter, shock mount (EVAN CABALES TEW!). That has led to a few test recordings with some jazzy 5th chords on the piano, and… Jesus Christ, it feels so amazing to finally be able to listen to what I actually HEAR as I sing, and not the tinny, dynamic mic version of my voice. I swear, 90% of my insecurities just disappeared, and the ideas are flowing in like a raging river.

Lastly, I grubbed up a new TC Electronic Studio Konnekt 48 as part of a package deal for $1200 on eBay. I got myself the aforementioned mic in this deal, as well as a 250GB external drive, which is JUST what I needed. Freaking rad.

So, I am swimming in gear; both the music I listen to and create has never sounded better, and I may just be able to finally pull off the productions I’ve always wanted.

Oh, and I want to learn the violin, too.

I love music beyond words right now. There’s got to be some way to express that ;)