PROPHETS OF THE COSMIC DARKNESS IS DEAD

Well, sort of.

The music isn't going anywhere. I'm still writing. I'm still recording. I'm still spending an unreasonable amount of time moving a snare drum three milliseconds to the left and convincing myself it changed everything.

What's dead is the way I've been doing this.

Over the past year, I fell into a trap that I think a lot of independent musicians fall into. You make a song. You release it. Then suddenly you're not a musician anymore. You're a marketing department.

Make the reel.

Post the clip.

Write the caption.

Run the ad.

Watch the numbers.

Wonder whether any of those numbers represent actual human beings.

Repeat.

I don't want to do that anymore.

So I'm starting over.

THE GREAT SOCIAL MEDIA RESET

I've restarted my social media accounts.

Part of that decision came from realizing that I needed to be more vigilant about who was actually following and interacting with the project. Bots, fake accounts, meaningless engagement — none of that helps me build what I actually want.

And what I want is pretty simple.

I want to meet people who like making things.

I want to talk to musicians. I want to talk to people learning how to write songs. I want to talk to people who have never written a song but have always wondered if they could.

I don't care if that means the numbers are smaller.

Social media convinced musicians that the goal was to collect people.

I'd rather meet them.

I'M NOT GOING TO PROMOTE MY MUSIC

At least not in the traditional sense.

I'm sure I'll tell you when I release something. I'm not going to pretend otherwise.

But I have very little interest in making endless videos telling strangers to STREAM MY NEW SINGLE NOW.

Instead, I want to show you how the thing got made.

Maybe I write a bass line.

I'll show you the bass line.

I'll show you the synth patch.

I'll show you how I built it.

I'll show you what happens when I change one note and suddenly the entire thing works.

And more importantly, I'll show you when it doesn't work.

Because some of my favorite ideas have come from fucking something up.

Wrong note.

Wrong sound.

Wrong rhythm.

Accidentally moving something.

Playing something badly and realizing the mistake was more interesting than what I was trying to play.

That's the stuff I want to post.

Not because I'm trying to teach anyone the correct way to make music. I'm still figuring this shit out too.

That's actually part of the point.

I want someone to watch me make something and think:

Wait. I could probably do that.

Then go make something.

SHOW THE FUCK UPS

I think music becomes intimidating when we only show people the finished version.

You hear the mastered song.

You see the music video.

You see the artwork.

Everything looks intentional.

It wasn't.

There are abandoned versions. Terrible lyrics. Synth patches that sounded like shit. Bass lines that went nowhere. Vocals I recorded fifteen times before realizing take three was better.

There are also mistakes that become songs.

That's probably the part of making music I find most interesting.

Sometimes I'll be trying to play one thing and hit the wrong note. Suddenly I'm not thinking about the thing I was trying to play anymore. I'm thinking about the mistake.

What happens if I repeat it?

What happens if I put a bass line under it?

What happens if I completely abandon what I was originally trying to do?

That's writing music.

At least that's how I do it.

And I want more of that process to be visible.

If something I post makes somebody open Logic, pick up a guitar, download a synth, write a terrible first song, or finally finish the thing that's been sitting on their computer for six months, that's worth considerably more to me than another passive follower.

THE WEBSITE CHANGED TOO

While I've been reconsidering social media, I've also completely rebuilt the Prophets of the Cosmic Darkness website.

The old version was trying very hard to create a world around the music.

I've stripped a lot of that away.

The new site is simpler.

Music.

Videos.

Writing.

Song Notes.

Me.

The songs don't need an elaborate mythology surrounding them. They can stand on their own.

I've also gotten more comfortable describing what Prophets of the Cosmic Darkness actually sounds like.

Synth pop.

Dream pop.

Nu-disco.

Depending on the song, one of those descriptions might fit better than the others.

That's fine.

I spent too much time worrying about what box the project belonged in. I'm much more interested now in making whatever song I want to make and figuring out what the hell it is afterward.

SO YES, PROPHETS OF THE COSMIC DARKNESS IS DEAD

At least one version of it is.

The version obsessed with presentation.

The version trying to figure out the correct way to promote an independent music project.

The version worrying about follower counts.

The version trying to convince an algorithm that people should care.

That version can die.

I'm keeping the songs.

I'm keeping the ridiculous name.

I'm keeping the synths.

Everything else can change.

If you want to listen to the music, it's there.

But if you want to see how I make it — including all the ways I fuck it up along the way — that's what I'm more interested in showing you now.

Maybe you'll see me build a bass line and decide to build one yourself.

Maybe you'll watch me completely screw something up and realize that you don't actually have to know exactly what you're doing before you start.

Maybe you'll make something terrible.

Good.

Make another one.

That's a hell of a lot more interesting to me than another stream.

Timmy Wakefield

Timmy Wakefield is the songwriter and musician behind Prophets of the Cosmic Darkness, an independent music project from South Florida. He writes about music, creativity, the process behind his songs, and whatever else is on his mind.

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THE SOCIAL MEDIA PROBLEM