I had a beautiful, minimalist recording area to create songs that would inspire every heart and soothe every ear until the apple update that killed my recording setup.
I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that the world was denied the beautiful artistry that emanated from my fingers as I danced around a fretboard, or the discovery of the malevolent culprit.
It’s a toss up.
My Unmatched Brilliance and Stoic Humility
It’s difficult to be as brilliant as I am. It breeds a lot of jealousy. It’s the main reason I haven’t released an album of my most amazing musical endeavors. That and my unceasing humility.
I would hate for another artist to listen to my unmatched skill and talent and spend the rest of their lives sobbing into their pillows (although purchasing pillow stock beforehand could be a great windfall). Then again, it would break my heart to know that I destroyed Taylor Swift or Bruno Mars. (Bob on the other hand can just wring his pillow out over and over. He knows why.)
Despite all this, I still do some recording each day, that is until the Apple update that killed my recording setup. It was a mess. Until it wasn’t.
The Apple Update that Killed My Recording Setup
I love my iPad Pro. It’s amazing. I use it all the time for recording, writing, training, and more. It’s one of the best investments I’ve made, other than in my own guitar skills. Did I mention I’m great? Probably not. I would use the word “amazing”.
Anyway, I had just updated my iPad Pro to the newest OS, and I went to record. I had my guitar slung around my neck, my Mix-Pre recorder hooked up to the iPad, my headphones on, GarageBand up, and I heard dead silence; there was no sound in my ears.
I tried the usual. I shut down GarageBand. I unplugged and plugged back in the Mix-Pre. I tapped the “monitor” button on the screen. Nothing. Obviously it was the Apple update that killed my recording setup.
At least it was obvious until I noticed one thing.
As I looked to the right, I noticed the guitar cable still wrapped around the hooks. My guitar, as amazing as it sounds, still needs to be plugged in to be recorded. I plugged it in and everything sounded incredible, like Thor himself was playing through my fingers (maybe he was. After all, I don’t remember being born. Coincidence?)
I would love to say that was the end of it, but sometimes memory is short lived. I had been so bent out of shape over the Apple update that killed my recording setup that I barely remembered the actual problem the next day when I went through the whole thing again.
What can I say. Genius is more of a spectrum.
The fact is, when things go wrong we like to look for things to blame. We’re often quick to look at what’s easy to blame instead of what’s the most likely explanation. Sometimes we just need to take a step back, and make sure we’re making smart deductions instead of easy ones. Sometimes it’s best to accept that, as brilliant as we are, we can overlook things and we need to be ready to include our own mistakes into our calculations.
I would love to say that my brilliance saved the day, but even a lightning god can make mistakes. Now it’s time to play music that makes the gods weep, mostly because knee slides on carpet burn like a mother.