Welcome back to my blog detailing the journey of finding myself through my new solo project. Normally, I would do a full recap of the project here, but in the interest of preserving this installment to talk about personal identity in a very vulnerable way, I am going to recommend that you start at the beginning of this series to get the full effect.
What’s in a name? Humorously, I find that to be a paradox. It is everything and nothing all at once. I’ve been fighting with this non-stop for weeks, at this point. In fact, that is why this installment of the blog is coming very, very late. It’s rather difficult to choose a name for yourself. Maybe that is why our parents do it for us. Maybe that’s why most people don’t change their name. The interesting bit is there are multiple angles at play in this equation. On the one hand, you can always change it. I can always choose to release music under whatever name I choose. On the other hand, the likelihood of making enough money to buy a single taco in a year from streaming or selling music is low and the likelihood of every making a living is basically null. So why bother? Great question.
Let’s start with the first big question. Why not just release music under my name, Griffin Law? I recently read Andrew Huang’s newest book, Make Your Own Rules. Andrew releases music under his own name and devoted a portion of the book to discussing how he came to this decision. Part of his rationale was related to his heritage and part of it was related to his relationship with his own identity. In the end, he thought the only way to really release music under a name that was uniquely his was to use the only name that is truly uniquely his. His own.
In my case, there are a few reasons that the music in question will be released under a different name. Firstly, I will be releasing my classical compositions under my own name. This will include “classical”, or academic, compositions intended to be performed in an acoustic setting and/or on traditional percussion instruments. As you can probably tell, using appropriate language here is like walking through a minefield. We really need a new set of definitions and descriptions for types of music in the modern era, especially for those educators and performers who frequently float between academic and non-academic genres. Under my own name, I will release original works like Two Souls in a Fishbowl, which was discussed earlier in this series, and a newer composition for frame drum and spoken work, What If My Hands Don’t Work? It will also include performances by other composers like a recording of Ivan Trevino’s 2300 Degrees, which will be released in the coming months. As you can see, one of the big motivators for releasing music under two monikers is to keep works like this separate from ambient, lo-fi, and electro-acoustic music that is not intended for an academic audience, not notated on sheet music, or not for sale in a printed form.
Great, so what about the new name? Well, here we go. I have been sitting on the name “Doctor Dropout” for the better part of a year. I won’t get too deep into weeds of this reasoning, but I have been heavily considering not finishing my DMA in percussion and this seemed to me like a great way to describe what I have been going through. I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me that I have studied, performed, loved, and slaved over my own music and the music of others enough to be called a doctor. Hell, if it was based purely on ability and effort, I should be handed that paper right now and someone should go take away a LOT of credentials from some prominent professors in the field. That’s not how it works though. It’s also not what I will be calling my solo project. The easy reason is that it does sound a little cheesy, after all. The more serious reason is that choosing a name that is in direct opposition to my studies eliminates the point. It may seem in opposition, but it would be branding myself with a moniker that is forever tied to academia, and I frankly can’t think of a worse way to go down with a sinking ship and even possibly give the smallest amount of nod to the professors who have failed me along the way.
Once I knew that Doctor Dropout was out, I started searching for what really drives me to make music. I found myself listening to a video regarding the 2024 production of Infinity Percussion. Infinity is an indoor percussion group, and their design staff is world class, both in technical classification and in skill level. I became intrigued when one of their design staff mentioned a book called The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. I bought a copy immediately based solely on the title and description, hoping that it would lead me to my name. The book is a short book by John Koenig that is quite literally a dictionary of words that can be used to describe emotions that most people feel and understand but that the English language does not have an appropriate term for. In a perfect world, I had hoped to use one of the words from the book as my artist name. I found several that I enjoyed and will list them below. Unfortunately, this came with some issues. Some of these names have been claimed by other artists. Some are simply a little strange to have to communicate to others. No one likes it when an artist has to say something along the lines of “Well my music is listed until Perfect Tragedy, but the second E is a 3 and on Instagram we are actually @PerfectTragedyBand but without the 3’s”. That is a fabricated example, but we all know an artist or group who has a similar story.
Maru Mori – the heartbreaking simplicity of ordinary things
Idlewild – feeling grateful to be stranded in a place where you can’t do much of anything
Anoscetia – the anxiety of not knowing the real you
Ambedo – momentary trance of emotional clarity
Of course, I also had other ideas. There were a few days where I was very likely to name the project “Humanity from a Distance” and about 15 minutes where I was sure the right answer was “Ground in Motion”. Both not great ideas, but definitely easier to explain than “Ambedo”.
After all of that consideration, I decided to take a moment and think about the things that I find important in art. In my composition, I seek to be versatile, wild, and honest with myself. I have no idea where I am going from here, but I know that I have no interest in tying myself down through my relationship with academic music, instruments, genres, ideas, or subjects. I want my solo project to live under a name that knows no bounds.
I am Infinite Pigment.
The path of least resistance
Pins and needles
A short circuit to the ground
Now I’m interruption
Infinite and momentary
A moment’s distraction
Incomplete and temporary
Help me touch the ground
‘Cause all that’s heavy in me
Still won’t weigh me down
Bring me back to the surface
I’m done with this endlessness
Help me find my way back down
-Hands Like Houses
Griffin Law Music 