Happy Anniversary to Me on My First Album - So What?
ABOUT ONE YEAR AGO, I released a labour of love that I had worked on for several years. On the 24th June 2022, “Church Kids” was released. So I thought I’d share a reflection with you on how the album came to be and what things have looked like since (and also because I need to justify the $200 per year price tag for this website).
This little 8 track album (not EP, album) took me the better part of 7 years to bring to completion. A lot of writing, a lot of waiting, a lot of collaboration and a considerable sum of dollars to bring it forth into the world.
The idea behind the album was a catalyst of three things:
1) The regular wrestling of a twenty-something young adult growing into a man, grappling with what it means to have faith in Christ in this day and age. More specifically, my day-to-day and this post-modern age where faith can seem relatively irrelevant.
2) The realisation that I predominantly write Jesus songs.
3) That the more the songs came together, this became increasingly obvious that this was a coming-of-age album. A coming-of-age of my writing style, of myself, of my faith.
And me, growing up in a Christian home, whose family went to church every Sunday, whose parents were enthusiastic charismatic Christians, a kid who went to an overtly Christian school, and a kid who eventually worked in a church… I was the epitome of a church kid.
So as the songs began to compile, it was clear that I was a church kid writing songs for other church kids. And for those who grew up in a faith community, you’ll know that if you’ve been sitting in the same pews for many years, the faces beside you change – people come and go.
Life happens. “Once a church kid, always a church kid” is not a truism. In a vein similar to Ed Sheeran’s lyrics in “Castle on a Hill”, the people you grow up with go live their life in a litany of various ways for various reasons.
I don’t pretend to sit here and say the life of faith is an easy one. Or makes sense all the time. I realise there are all kinds of emotional or logical reasons for people who were once in church to no longer call the church home.
So I also wrote this album for them. Perhaps for you. In the final stanzas of “The Ode”, it says
Maybe you’re doubting your faith
He said if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can command the landscapes around you to conform to the sound of your voice
Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Jesus still loves you
Maybe you need answers but all you have is options
Maybe you gave up on God because people gave up on you
Maybe, just maybe, He’s still tugging at your heart and he wants you to hear this so here goes nothing
Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Jesus still loves you, listen up, that’s the truth
No matter where you find yourself, from the club to the pews
To all of my church kids, this is for you
And so, on that Friday in late June 2022, this debut album with its ode went live on all the media platforms, with an additional music video to boot (thanks Glenn), a week before my 30th Birthday.
There was a little listening party held at my in-law’s place around a firepit held on a beautiful crisp winter’s evening, with a projector to show the video for “Sometimes, I”. As it turns out, the listening party became a surprise birthday party for me. It was a fun-filled night.
And that was it. The initial load of streams came in, and as every artist ever can attest to, it’s a nail-biting experience. Thoughts race through your brain:
“How many people have listened since I last checked?”
“Do they like it?”
“Are people sharing this on Instagram?”
“How many people watched the video?”
“Is this worth it?”
“Thank God, it’s out there”
I’m very grateful for the initial reaction. Being an indie artist, I don’t have the large base of funds or contacts to really have a skyrocketing launch.
And like every artist out there, I want my art to be a success. And usually I don’t try to, but I definitely succumb to the definitions of commercial success. Bazillions of streams, people wanting to book me for interviews and gigs, money rolling in to at least cover the initial outlay of funds.
But realistically, this has not been the major outcome of this album (yet – one can always hope). If anything, this massive moment for myself as an artist disappeared as a blip on the radar of 2022.
I wish had more time last year to invest into the album launch and followup. However, that was not to be. I got married, and had much larger multiple fish to fry in 2022 (I dub 2022 as the “Year of Massive Change” - something I might delve into another day).
So… would I define this album as a failure?
If I was looking at it purely from a commercial lens, I could do. It certainly hasn’t paid me back in dollars what I put into it. I could always lust for more streams.
But.
Let’s step away from the money and streams for a moment. I think the primary win for any artist who publishes their work – whether it be music, writing, visual art, film, dance, a physical creation or anything else – is firstly the fact they’ve put it out there to the world.
Putting your art out into the world is positively terrifying. Subjecting your metaphorical baby to the scrutiny of the public… and your peers. The fear of judgment is enough for many to not put something out there.
But the reward doesn’t come without the risk. Because it’s only when you’re willing to release your art to the world that it is able to influence others.
To inspire. To provoke. To cause awe. To revel in beauty. To enjoy something with that has the rough edges hewn together by a person, not just manufactured perfection.
And whether that creates change, like Bob Dylan did with “The Times They Are A-Changing”, or whether it’s to create enjoyment or enable feeling, it only comes with the bravery of an artist putting themselves out there.
I’m not saying that bad art doesn’t exist. Because it does.
But bad art beats undiscovered art. Because at least bad art has the chance to influence.
And good art, refined by an artisan who cares and labours over the minutia – well perhaps that might just change the world. Or at least the world you find yourself in.
And to me, I think that’s the little wins I’ve had in both creating “Church Kids” and since it’s been released.
Receiving little messages from people who said my songs brightened their day (my favourite was another Mark Dunlop from the US mentioning Alexa accidentally put my songs on, and he really enjoyed listening).
A comment from family members who when they said they had listened to AND enjoyed the album, it fully surprised me.
Seeing the little stream number updates each week. Someone out there is listening and takes pleasure in my work.
Having the bravery to back myself and put money, time and effort into releasing this. Doing exactly what I said I would do, and what I dreamed I would do.
Being able to bring people into the creative process – some of those people being creatives who would have never put themselves forward, except for my invitation.
So in that way, I’m incredibly proud of “Church Kids”. I’ve learnt lessons along the way that will serve me well for my next release.
Because I also believe that I’m being faithful to part of what I’m meant to do on this Earth. To write songs that bless God and bless people.
So watch this space. Me and All My Friends might just create something special.
And if you’re an artist who’s wrestling with whether to step out in faith or not, take this as your sign: just do it.