Since early November, I’ve been releasing a new song every week.
Not demos. Not sketches. Finished songs — with artwork, streaming links, and a story behind each one. Twelve weeks in a row now, with no signs of stopping.
Why?
Because I was stuck in the loop that kills creativity: endless tweaking.
I’d have a song at 90% and spend weeks chasing that last 10%. Adjusting the reverb tail. Second-guessing how many more melodies and instruments would work. Convincing myself it wasn’t ready. Convincing myself that I wasn’t good enough yet.
I was creating songs, but it was very chaotic.
I wanted to change that and I found myself setting a goal to simply release a track twice a month. Once on the 1st and one on the 15th (this was around September/October).
Within a few weeks I found I was making music faster and I wanted to share it with people faster than my twice a month release schedule was allowing.
So I bumped the release schedule from twice a month to once a week. Every Friday.
A weekly deadline changes everything. There’s no time to overthink. “Good enough” becomes the goal — and it turns out good enough is usually better than I thought.
What It Forces
It forces me to ship. The deadline is real. Miss it and the streak breaks. That pressure is clarifying.
It forces me to let go. I can’t hold onto a song forever. At some point, I have to accept that this is what it is, and move on to the next one.
It forces identity. Every song needs a name, artwork, a reason to exist. I can’t call it “Project 31” and file it away. I have to ask: What is this? What does it feel like? What thoughts does it bring to mind? Then I have to visualize that and bring it to life.
It forces feeling. Each week I sit with the song and try to understand it. Not what I intended it to be, but what it actually is. How it makes me feel when I listen. The images it conjures. Then I try to capture that in the artwork, the title, the story.
The Real Lesson
The constraint isn’t limiting — it’s liberating. When you can’t spend forever on something, you make decisions faster. You trust your instincts. You learn what actually matters and what’s just procrastination dressed up as perfectionism.
Fifty two weeks in a year. Fifty two songs. By November 14th, 2026, I am hoping I will have released at LEAST 52 songs. Each one different. Each one finished. Each one out in the world doing whatever songs do when you let them go.
That’s the point. Not perfection. Progress.
So tune in, follow along, enjoy the ride. I can’t wait to look back at where I started and see how far I’ve come.
More to come — every week.