Forgot My Mind - Did I really?

The year is 2023. Lawrence J-P the artist had gone from being a vague dream scribbled somewhere in the back of my brain to something that actually felt… real. Terrifying, exciting, mildly chaotic — but real.

I was finally getting to grips with my DAW, specifically Ableton Live 10 Intro, courtesy of my mate’s licensing key. Truly the glamorous beginnings every music career deserves.

After graduating from a conservatoire where I studied cello, I went straight into a peripatetic teaching job. The teaching itself was great. The not being paid for six months part was significantly less inspiring. So naturally, after a fair amount of existential pacing, I quit to focus on what I actually wanted to do with my life: make my own music.

Around the same time, my family back in York were getting a new puppy — a tiny border terrier called Teddy. Seeing as I’d just quit my job and was suddenly the proud owner of a frightening amount of free time, spending a month at home looking after a puppy sounded pretty perfect.

So between sprinting around the garden with Teddy and repeatedly explaining to him that my shoelaces were not a food group, I started writing songs. Some of them will absolutely never see the light of day, and maybe some eventually will.

Now I mentioned Teddy not only so I can show this picture which I think would be an amazing album cover, but mostly because raising a puppy and trying to build the foundations of a music career are weirdly similar experiences. There’s excitement, joy, and moments where you think “this is the best decision I’ve ever made,” immediately followed by complete exhaustion and stress about things you never thought you’d care about this deeply.

One of the biggest anxieties that inspired me to “forget my mind” was, strangely enough, my age. Which is funny in hindsight because I wasn’t old… and I’m still not. But when you look at successful artists, it’s easy to convince yourself they appeared overnight fully formed and successful. The reality is they’ve usually spent ten years grafting behind the scenes — and somehow they’re still only about two years older than you. Rude, honestly.

Eventually I realised everyone’s on their own timeline, and the experiences I’d already had were shaping me into a better musician and songwriter. For example, surviving conservatoire masterclasses — where your playing gets critiqued directly to your face in front of all your peers — is basically emotional bootcamp. After that, future criticism doesn’t seem nearly as scary. Although ideally we can still avoid it entirely.

The original demo of the song sounded completely different. It was much faster, packed with high-energy drums, and honestly sat somewhere in the world of “Lawrence J-P accidentally makes K-Pop.” But when it came time for production a couple of years later, the song evolved into something much dreamier and softer.

The track was produced with the help of Chris Evans at Goliath Studio. Unlike the original demo made in Ableton, we used Logic Pro for the final version. We slowed everything down, removed the heavy drums, added guitars — which is a rare sighting in a Lawrence J-P song — and leaned fully into the dreamy atmosphere.

And yes, if enough people ask, maybe I’ll release the original demo recorded while I had one of the worst colds of my life. Nothing says “future pop star” quite like aggressively sniffling into a microphone.

In summary, this song was really my attempt at reassuring myself. I’d be lying if I said I never still worry or question my progress and life choices, but I definitely don’t do it as much as I used to.

And honestly, that’s pretty nice.