Sacred profanity

When all is said and done, art is neither paint nor print, tune nor rhythm, but the movement behind any given media. As abstract as this may sound, one must draw the line between an artist and a skilled technician. Skill and technique are crucial; essential building blocks for the creation process. But being skilled at a craft does not automatically give you the title of an artist. A painter who only copies the greats to develop skill but refrains from the burden of true creation is not an artist. Neither is the musician who chooses to use his skill to please a crowd over authentic expression.

An artist is one who toils and sweats in his craft, making it beautiful not in the eyes of the world, but in his own eyes, and ultimately the eyes of God. This is an isolating process. Both freeing and caging; a schizophrenic battle of self-loathing and pride. It isn't a question of whether the process is worth the product because the process is the product. In simple terms, the defining character of an artist is his or her innate need to create. This is not referent to the need to create because of a deadline prescribed by a client, but a carnal and human lust to bring about something that wasn't. The drive artists feel is a gift. A gift tainted by fallen eyes such that all they see is a curse.

This dichotomy between an artist and a skilled technician is as vast as what is sacred and profane. There is no shame in being a skilled technician. But when a skilled technician is seated in the place of an artist, profane art is produced. Music becomes homogenized by record labels whose sole purpose is to turn hungry ears into cash cows. Listening to contemporary pop music, and indeed, contemporary Christian music, is like trying to live on a Twinkie-based diet. You get the sweet taste of factory-perfected products, tried and tested on sample groups of their target audience, but no nutrients to feed your soul.

We need to return to home grown organic farms of artists of all faculties, growing songs and pictures that they themselves would consume. So hug your resident artist. They may be struggling to keep an ideal that you unknowingly treasure alive.

True Collaboration

I never felt the need to define my music, placing it in categories and boxes and genres. But I must confess, being free of boundaries has its restrictions. For one, I don't know how I want to sound. Do I want to be folky or cinematic? Or perhaps contemporary and pop-ish? Eventually, I end up in an eclectic mess. There are charms in that tangle of concepts, but I find myself dissatisfied with my music. I want to create something that I'm excited to put on my Ipod and go for long walks listening to it on repeat. If I fail to create something the world enjoys, at the very least I should create something I can enjoy.

This is why I've decided that no man is an indie record label, and humbly approached my brothers and sisters in arms for true collaboration. True collaboration is all about sharing power. I may have “collaborated” with musicians in the past, but all that entailed was them playing their instruments in my direction. They were given no power. Now, I believe in handing that power to the people around me, forcing them to own the songs I write.

This is a terrifying process. The first step to find musicians I can trust – musicians who won't carve my songs without understanding that they're a part of me. Only when change is made through the gifts and talents of sensitive artists will I know that my work isn't merely seen as a message, or a pretty little thing, or a money factory, or a fame generator, but as a gift to the people who take the time to get to know me as an artist. True collaboration is love.

Migratory Birds

It's been close to a month since I've been on the road. Soon I'll be going back to Bobbio Pellice, Italy, to rekindle a flame once bright. My musical journey under the banner of Daniel and the Sparrows began in the Alpen region of Italy more than 3 years ago. I never dreamt of being a full time musician (and in some ways, I'm still a little bashful about claiming to be one). The last three years have been riddled with euphoria, mountain top experiences, crushing discouragement, doubt, and wrestling matches with God and man. All of which have moulded my character and calling.

It's so easy to give up - to redefine my ministry to make my shortcomings and mediocre success more palatable. But I know God has lead me through this ongoing, seemingly endless desert for a reason. I will just have to grit my teeth, keep my head tilted up, and head towards the light. Though the road is rocky and impossibly narrow, God will guide my steps.

God has recently introduced a band of brothers into my ecosystem; TK, Immanuel Aziz, Eric Reyes, and Isaiah Nichols. Aptly labeled as the foreigners, these characters have caused me heartache and heart-warmth. I have learnt so much from their heart and talent for music and missions. I turn this post to them, to encourage and remind them that we are migratory birds heading home. It may be a long journey, over endless oceans and barren lands, with the occasional oasis to tempt us away from the ultimate goal. But don't look down, not for a second, because if we fix our eyes on things above we will find ourselves home, whatever that may look like to each of our ambitious hearts. I love you guys!

Regards from Singapore,

Daniel and the Sparrows

Live at Studio B

I'm still recovering from a 12hr long session in studio B with some of the best musicians I've ever played with. I recall the hours spent with Josh arranging music, praying that it'll be worth everyone's time, and now our live EP is gradually becoming reality.

Featuring 7 instrumentalists, Stephanie Lim, Joshua Lee, Sylvia Robin, Song Kim, Isaiah Nichols, Matthew Casiple, and Tyler Blohm, the currently untitled EP focuses on a period of my life where I'm getting used to the glare of post spiritual blindness. After a time of wrestling with cynicism, self doubt, and an ever shifting sense of identity, this EP speaks of the joys of finding solid ground in a world of chaotic fluidity.

Not only has it been a pleasure working with these musicians, it has been uplifting and cathartic. In hindsight, this EP was merely a by product of the relationships developed within a group of musicians meeting in a tiny apartment to tell stories (my sympathies to the neighbors). The true beauty lay in the lives of the individuals.

Of course the extensive efforts of Ryan McConnaughay, our sound engineer, Pavel Adamek, our videographer and his team, Reidar, James, and Joe should not go unnoticed. They saw us through several hours worth of face-palm worthy mistakes from us musicians.

Look out for Daniel and the Sparrows' upcoming EP, recorded live at Studio B.

Daniel Lim

Photo Credit (and slave elf): Gabrielle Torres

New Live EP

I've been working hard with a little help from my friends to produce a brand new EP that will be recorded live in Studio B on the 11th of April. While this is proving to be the most difficult, expensive, and passionate project thus far, this EP is also going to be the shortest album I've ever cut.