Get Over Your Wall
A log of a song I call Gravitas, and what you may relate in writer's block as a music producer.
Writing a song from scratch when going through the transient experience of writer's block, initially was really challenging for me. I just felt like I had a lot of mental roadblocks, and also no idea where to go for unveiling a song or if there was a song to find. Especially a high quality one that has a compelling gravity behind it. Yeah, and also ran into things that we run through as people and artists, so I don't want to dive into all that right now, but just want to preface not giving up, and letting the perseverance push (you) through, and sometimes, the inspiration comes on the other side of the wall. Which was, I feel like, what I experienced in this situation, and part of why I called the song Gravitas.
In the early stages of syphoning the song from the ether, I discovered an arpeggiated feel through practice and experimentation with the piano (in my DAW: Logic Pro X). The process was me messing up every once in a while, but through the mistakes, I was able to solidify and carve a melody out of the mental stone wall before me. Finding myself in the early process of transmuting my challenge into an art. This was where the experience began to conically unfold, and find the pieces of the song that were blooming.
Following the piano, I added some drums. To break down the percussion, and create a base, I set the rhythm of the kick, snare, and the cymbals with a strong emphasis on the high-hat. Now, it's usually my natural tendency of song building in the time signature of 4/4, but in this instance with the heavily arpeggiated influence, I ended up with a time signature of 3/4 that fit a waltz expression.. For the musical key, where I felt most drawn prior to playing was F major, and the sense to open doors with the key held true.
Partway through the track establishment based on the main melody, I intuitively made the bridge and final two choruses, with just the piano and drums for arranging a framework to flow. What was referenced in the beginnings was basically about the first third of the song. After the arrangement, there was a sense that the song's pace was dragging a little bit. So the idea was to keep it chill, but also a little-bit up-beat. It was kind of the vibe I'm going for from the inspiration that was growing brighter.
And that vibe further, was linking a side-chain compression to the main piano and the kick to work in sync. So every time the kick hit, the piano would dip a little bit for just a moment, creating a pulse effect. Those of you who know the side-chain technique, I'm probably preaching to the choir, but for those of you who aren't familiar, check out the side-chain, it's great tech.
And to add probably an unnecessary amount of texture to the piano, I threw in some bitcrusher. To dive deeper into the inner vision of the song, I felt a grainy and almost snow-like atmosphere emerging. It seemed as if a synchronicity to the weather as well, because days after starting the songwriting, we had one of the gnarliest snow storms in Michigan, and the U.S. for a few weeks (winter 2025).
Up next on the creation-list was the bass. Can't forget about the sub-frequencies. So something I like to do with my bass as a writing practice, midi it out because I don't have a bass guitar, and bounce it. From there on I can go in and mess with fades or cut out certain parts of the WAV file. I mean this was personal preference — I just like to work with the WAV file instead of working in a midi piano roll once the melodic rhythm is conjured. Moreover, as a functionality standpoint for computer processing, it's less intensive on the CPU than running a virtual instrument.
And something I love about chill songs with dynamics, the art of layering different frequency registers. Mixing the polarities, like deep low ends, and high end accents and harmony. The little pieces that I felt like bridged the song were simple little drum fills every once in a while. Can be complex, but that falls up to preference. All-in-all, drum fills, love them for bridging and flowing the song seamlessly, like well sewn stitching to layers of fabric.
From here on, I felt like some vocals were needed. What I did was take some vocals from another song (I wrote) in the same key (F maj). However, the vocal samples were different time signatures and BPM (beats-per-minute). Once the vox samples were bounced, I then started working that 4/4 time signature sample into the 3/4 time signature of Gravitas. And yeah, proved tricky, but we made it work after time stretching and cutting of the WAV, the process mainly required patience.
Speaking of different frequency registers, man, I felt the Ice Queen calling on my strings of inspiration, and pulling me deeper to carve out an icy synth to enliven the song's inner vision. The placement and design was within the chorus, and imbued as a supportive lead to personify the crystalline elemental motif.
Something I want to preface and clarify, all the vocals in the song were remixed from other songs I made. So nothing that's curated for Gravitas; putting the creative vocal expression derived from an editing perspective, and less of a musician / vocalist angle and performance. The experience was a reminder, to be creative with what has been brought to the table presently and historically. An evergreen discipline in music and art creation.
For a little more momentum, I added some bass booms, reversing them, and then just letting the real-time play out, anchoring as more bridges to seam the main segments of the song together. A ritual I like to do with my instruments — cut them up, then use fades to add a little bit more of a rhythm factor or velocity change. Just giving that sense of like a rock back-and-forth; going back to the waltz motivation of the melody.
This was when I started writing some interesting facets of the vocals because I wanted to get a little more clarified for the guiding focal point; a little more poetry in the song. Intuition was moving me, I felt like vocal melody was needed, the sense that something was still missing. With the intent of recycling vocals, I had to take another bounce from a 4/4 time-signature, and transmogrify it to this song, with the same techniques as the former vocals. Aligning a 4/4 melody to a 3/4 time-signature song was an intricate process of trial and error of studying the WAV file peaks, tinkering with the transients, and patience until unraveling the etheric force wanting to be embodied in a song. And on the topic of melding a 4/4 rhythm with a 3/4 rhythm, I had to work the Amen break (archetypal drum beat) into the Gravitas rhythm. That was interesting, yet successful from my lens, and I had an EQ high cut frequency automation to put the icing on the cake. The following pull on my creativity was a little more drum fills, and to compliment the fills with some taiko drums.
Around day three or four of writing, I felt like the bridges needed some orchestral strings, and the choruses needed a little bit more peripheral bells; bringing more presence to the higher frequency registers again. Playing more into the dense lows and crispy highs of the winter elements.
Okay, hopefully the recap of writing and producing a song shed some insight on how a music production session can look and go; not simply being a grocery list of music production steps. I felt like this was a good stopping point for the music log. The song wasn't technically done, it does need to be mixed and mastered, but I felt like the process and the story was really enjoyable on a personal level, and at the first phase of presentation. Another reminder as artists and musicians, the creation doesn't have to be done immediately. It can take time to get to the heart of the journey, but sometimes the gaps and pauses in creating, they are just what we need to fuel our journey forward. Sometimes the supposed wall or "writer's block" are actually the materials for the art that is birthing an inner vision.
Gravitas was not just a song waiting to be finished — it was a process waiting to be trusted. What began as writer's block slowly revealed itself as material, not obstruction. Through experimentation, mistakes, patience, and intuitive listening, the walls began to soften, and the song took form on its own timeline.
This process was a reminder that creation doesn't always arrive fully formed. Sometimes it emerges through friction, pauses, and persistence. Through working with what's already been made, reshaping it, and allowing it to evolve into something new. The gaps, the waiting, and even the resistance became part of the composition itself.
Gravitas stands as a reflection of that truth: that inspiration often lives on the other side of perseverance, and that what feels like a block may simply be the raw material for the next iteration of growth. For artists and musicians alike, the journey forward doesn't always require force. Sometimes it only asks for presence, curiosity, and the willingness to keep listening.
