In semi-secret, I'm polishing up a bunch of songs and teaching them how to walk. One of them has already been recorded on a compilation album, a passion project of John Ebdon's. I'm going to stand her up in front of everyone on the 17th and point her fingers at the hearts of anyone who'll listen. Her knees will knock and the keys will stick. It's fine.
The few times I have played my eldest for people, it's been fairly private. Or raining. With a huge truck hiding me from view. It's received a lot of positive attention, which was entirely unexpected as during its gestation, it was much rougher than it is right now. None of the lyrics have changed, it's just gentler in delivery.
I've played secular music live before, mine and others', and there's always been this atmosphere of just pure meh coming from the people. Which is fine, I haven't been doing this to be heard for a long time now, and back in the day, I wasn't doing it for the Lord, so I earned precisely what I worked for in that respect. This time might be different, though. It'll definitely be a pleasure. The musicians I'll be playing with are, and are becoming, great friends.
Since I picked out the 10 songs most likely to be on my first album (and that still sounds ridiculous!), I've noticed I'm writing again: new stuff, stuff centered around individuals. I don't think any of these will make the cut for my first try. They're very shiny, like they wish they could, but they have things in them that don't belong to me. There's also this thing my teacher wrote a while back that sort of sits behind me, looking over my shoulder, whenever I play them to myself: Are humans worthy of the music we write for them? Does every song have to be about the Walk or the Lord? Maybe, sometimes, I don't know. Tributes to people we love and respect make sense. But I'm hugely prone to idolatry, so I have to be especially careful with things like this. Don't know whether to save them for a surprise or to throw them out just to be safe.