I’m in the thick of making a new EP. First, for those of you that are like ,um, what’s an EP…it stands for Extended Play. Which was the format often found on 45 vinyl records and followed the single format most used at that point in music distribution technology. These days it generally means a short album – usually 5-6 songs and under 30 minutes in length. (for those music geeks like me, LP stands for long play….lol…hence long album…album…LP….)
Anyways, it’s not finished yet—but I’ve been reflecting on the process, and I want to share a few things I’ve learned along the way. Maybe they’ll resonate with you, whether you’re a songwriter, a collaborator, or just a human navigating a creative path.
1. It’s hard to work alone.
I think we can often romanticize the solo artist. The image of a songwriter in the studio late at night, chasing inspiration into the early hours. But the truth is, working alone can be isolating. It’s hard to stay motivated. It’s hard to trust your instincts. And it’s even harder to keep showing up when you don’t have someone else in the room reflecting ideas and for someone to bounce things off of. As a songwriter, I like working alone on the generation of the song itself – the melodies, harmonies, lyrics, but then what comes after…that’s where I want and for a long time have thought I needed – others to bring what I’ve created to full life.
Through this process of arranging and producing my own music, I’ve had days when I questioned everything I was working on. Days where a melody felt wrong, or the lyrics didn’t quite land, or I just couldn’t see the bigger picture. And what I’ve learned is: I need people. We all do. Humans help us reflect, push, refine, and most importantly, believe. The EP is still mine, but it’s also shaped by the people worked with - creatively, emotionally, and technically. More on that in a minute.
2. Curiosity is more important than confidence.
The longer I make music, the more I realize that curiosity is what keeps me going, not certainty. I’ve tried to stay open to what the song wants, rather than forcing what I think it should be. That means experimenting. That means muting a part or deleting something I spent hours creating, even if I loved it at one point. It even means deleting something in the mixing room after listening to it ten times and suddenly realizing that it wasn’t the part…it was the mere existence of the part itself that didn’t serve the song.
As a creator, and with my students, we talk about finding your voice. But what I’ve learned all these years making music is that sometimes, we need to unearth it over and over again. Every song teaches me something new about how to listen, how to shape, and how to let go.
It’s humbling, but it’s beautiful.
3. Find your people.
This project wouldn’t exist without the support of some incredibly kind, talented humans. Michael Leonhart helped me see the shape of the songs early on and continued to be a sounding board as I worked – someone I would check in with regularly and who held me accountable for simply finishing aspects of the songs. Sarah Gulish reminded me that things need to serve the song – what does the song need and how can the addition of production help tell the story. My husband Bob Sabin brought perspective and often needed inspiration and drive to simply do the thing. Aaron Nevezie brought magic – and taught me something I’d thought about but had never put into words: timing is volume (yeah…let that sink in for a minute ya’ll….). Jesse Lewis helped me figure out a recording set-up that would be easy and that I could just plug and play. Not to mention all the students that I work with every week who inspire me to make music and continue to learn and grow.
Each one of these people offered something essential. Whether it was feedback, space, encouragement, or challenge. If you’re making something, literally anything, go find your people. Or better yet, ask the people you already know for help. It doesn’t make you less capable. It makes you more human.
4. Never think you’re too old. Ever.
Throughout my life, but especially in the last five years as I’ve learned how to play guitar and produce my music, I’ve met a new friend. It’s a voice that sometimes creeps in, whispering, “You should’ve done this when you were younger,” or “Nobody cares what you have to say now.” That friendly voice? It’s a liar.
I’ve come to realize that age isn’t a disqualifier. It’s an asset. The truth is, I bring more nuance, honesty, and perspective to my music now than I ever could have in my twenties. I’m not writing to prove anything. I’m writing to connect. To tell the truth. To keep learning. That feels more real and more exciting than anything I used to chase.
So if you’re sitting there thinking…ah…I’m too old to….forget it. Just START. And in no time you’ll discover something new about yourself that you never thought was possible.
5. You’re allowed to choose what you don’t spend time on.
Read that again. You get to choose how and what you spend your time on. One of the biggest gifts I’ve been able to give myself this time around is permission to not do everything. There are areas where I’m still learning, still unsure, still a little outside my element. But instead of trying to conquer it all, I’ve chosen to focus on the parts I love - the parts that light me up and drive me forward.
For me, that was the mixing of the tracks. Over the past five years, I’ve gone from not playing guitar at all and being able to open Logic™ to being able to play full sets solo and with my band on guitar, recording guitar and vocals, using Splice™, tracking all manner of aspects of the song, tuning vocals with Melodyne™ (which I oddly LOVE fwiw…anyone need vocals tuned?), comping and editing tracks – all these things. But when it came to getting everything all the elements to sonically align the way my brain imagined they could, I was out of my element. Could I learn? Yes. Am I still working towards that goal? Yes. But it’s farther off than I want for the release of these songs – plus…see number 3….find your people…
I want anyone reading this to know that It’s okay to admit you don’t want to produce your own tracks right now. Or that you’re not into social media this month. Or that you need someone else to mix the record because you want to keep your ears on the songwriting. Or that you have someone else play the instruments. You don’t have to be an expert in everything. You just have to be honest with yourself about where you’re most alive and follow that.
Keep following it. And keep going.
Making this EP has stretched me. It’s reminded me of how vulnerable and brave this process is. It’s helped me fall in love with music all over again - not the version I thought I should be making, but the kind that feels true right now.
Thanks for walking with me on the journey. I can’t wait to share these songs with you soon.
Kat