Staring at a blinking cursor in the top-left corner of a field of white is usually how one of these things starts. Somehow it all works out though and takes the shape of blocks of text that I’ve become so adamant to etch onto the face of the Internet.
See, it’s the starting that’s the real problem. Not just with this, but with anything. With every idea any human has ever had. In fact, even starting the idea was probably a bother. I suppose with most things, starting off is essentially taking a step into the unknown, never being quite sure if that dark patch you’re about to place your foot on and transfer your weight onto is actually recently set Tarmac or cleverly disguised custard.
They (whoever this almighty, all-knowing “they” may be) sometimes refer to this notion as ‘taking a leap of faith’. For the rest of us who think the very use of cliché is extremely cliché, we can call it ‘wondering whether or not any good will come of this’. It’s only rational; nobody wants to start something if it’s only going to end up being a waste of time. So instead we don’t bother starting, and waste time.
I currently have a stack of books as yet unread, a stack of video games as yet unplayed and an ever-growing list of musicians and albums yet to hunt down and listen to. Oh, and I’ve saved a bunch of stuff to my “list” on Netflix over the years – half of which has probably already been removed. It just seems easier to never start, to just stick with the same twenty episodes of QI and occasionally delve into a PlayStation game from the late 90s, simply because they’re familiar.
It’s always been an issue with me particularly, which is probably why I often get frustrated at myself for not doing anything creatively. I like the comfort of knowing what I’m getting myself into. Every new idea is doomed to rot inside my brain, every blank page is a hellish nightmare. This is why I’m often in awe of anyone who actually does start something new. Maybe they’re just better at ignoring the ol’ internal critic, or maybe they just stifle it with a sock in the mouth.
My latest idea that’s coming close to the end of being merely a rotting thought, yet not quite beginning to exist as a real thing in the wider world, is one that’s stuck with me for about five years now. Essentially, it’s a podcast, because those exist in the 21st century as people like listening to bursts of audio other than music. I’ve been interested in audio as a creative medium since I started frequently listening to radio and realised that noises without visuals can actually be even more hilarious than visuals punctuated by noise.
One of the bigger thoughts left festering inside the alternative reality I keep housed in the upper third of my skull sees me eventually doing something radio-esque, with actual music, inane chatter and zany sound effects aplenty. But any trip down that avenue is going to involve actually starting, and as I’ve made it known, that’s just not something I can get comfortable with right away. Evidently, I enjoy dangling my feet in the water (or cleverly disguised custard) to acclimatise, instead of jumping right in.
Heck, I was going to mention the fact that I had an idea for a podcast in the first paragraph.
One thing I actually decided to take the plunge with last weekend involved exploring the depths of Spotify for any and all musical content relating to Bloc Party. After hearing a couple of tracks from the latest album, it occurred to me that I’ve let that band’s work scoot right past my consciousness leaving me five albums behind. Say what you will about music streaming services (particularly free model ones), but I find them useful for providing a nifty “try before you buy” sample.
Also, say what you will about excessive use of what can only be described as electronic meowing, but it’s bloody catchy. I also defy any listener to not move any part of their body during this. Although not necessarily to the extent of these poor people trapped in the mall after hours.
Bloc Party – The Love Within
Jamie Walsh 
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