How I Created My Debut Song, "Lotsa Tones"

 When people think about creating music, they often picture expensive studios, professional instruments, and years of formal musical training. While there is certainly nothing wrong with that approach, it isn't how Lotsa Tones came to be.

Instead, this song began with something much simpler.

Curiosity.

I've always believed that creativity starts by asking one simple question: What happens if I try this?

That question has led me to write novels, poetry, short stories, blog posts, podcast episodes, and now, my first piece of music. Every creative journey I've taken has started the same way. Not because I already knew exactly what I was doing, but because I wanted to learn.

That mindset is exactly what led to Lotsa Tones.

For this project, I wasn't trying to create the next chart-topping hit. I wasn't trying to perfectly imitate another artist or fit neatly into an existing genre. Instead, I wanted to experiment with sound itself.

The tool that made this possible was Audacity.

Most people know Audacity as a free audio editor. It's often used for recording podcasts, editing interviews, cleaning up audio, or mixing tracks. I've used it extensively for editing episodes of The Jaime David Podcast, so I was already comfortable navigating the software.

But one day I started wondering...

What if I used Audacity for something completely different?

Instead of simply editing audio that already existed, what if I tried creating music from the sounds built into the software?

That question became the beginning of this project.

I started opening different generators and effects inside Audacity just to see what they could do. I generated tones. I listened to different waveforms. I experimented with pitches, frequencies, durations, and rhythms.

Some combinations sounded interesting.

Others sounded completely ridiculous.

Some lasted only a few seconds before I immediately deleted them.

But every experiment taught me something.

One of the things I enjoy most about creative work is that there isn't always a right answer. Sometimes the only way to discover something interesting is to allow yourself to make things that don't work.

In fact, I would argue that failed experiments are often just as valuable as successful ones because they teach you what directions you may or may not want to explore next.

So I kept experimenting.

I'd generate a sound.

Listen.

Move it around.

Layer another sound over it.

Adjust the timing.

Delete something.

Add something else.

Repeat.

Little by little, what started as random experimentation slowly became recognizable as a piece of music.

I never sat down with a detailed blueprint saying, "This is exactly how the song will sound."

Instead, I let the song develop naturally.

One sound inspired another.

One rhythm suggested the next.

Every decision influenced the one that followed.

That process reminded me a lot of writing fiction.

When I write a novel, I don't always know exactly where every chapter will lead. Sometimes the characters surprise me. Sometimes the story changes direction halfway through writing it.

Music, I discovered, can work the same way.

Rather than forcing every idea into place, I tried listening to what the piece itself seemed to need.

Sometimes it needed another layer.

Sometimes it needed less.

Sometimes the silence between sounds became just as important as the sounds themselves.

That was an interesting lesson.

As creators, we often feel the need to constantly add more.

More notes.

More instruments.

More effects.

More complexity.

But complexity isn't always better.

Sometimes restraint creates something stronger.

One of my goals throughout the project was simply to stay curious.

If I wondered what two sounds might be like together, I tried it.

If I wanted to hear what happened when I adjusted the timing, I adjusted it.

If I thought an effect might completely change the mood, I clicked the button and found out.

Not every experiment survived the final version.

Many didn't.

Some sounded awkward.

Some became too cluttered.

Others just didn't fit.

That's completely normal.

Creativity often involves making dozens—or even hundreds—of decisions that nobody ever sees.

The final product is only one snapshot of a much larger creative process.

What listeners hear in Lotsa Tones is the result of countless little moments of experimentation.

Some lasted seconds.

Some lasted hours.

All of them helped shape the final piece.

One thing I particularly enjoyed was discovering just how much can be created using simple building blocks.

People sometimes assume that creativity depends on having the newest software, the most expensive equipment, or an endless collection of tools.

While those things can certainly expand your possibilities, they aren't what create ideas.

Ideas come from curiosity.

Tools simply help bring those ideas into reality.

Audacity became that tool for me.

It allowed me to explore without feeling intimidated.

Because I wasn't working inside software filled with thousands of virtual instruments and endless menus, I focused more on listening than on endlessly browsing options.

Ironically, those limitations encouraged creativity.

They forced me to think differently.

Instead of asking, "Which preset should I use?"

I found myself asking, "What can I create with what I already have?"

I think that's an important lesson that applies far beyond music.

Whether you're writing, painting, programming, filming videos, or building something entirely different, it's easy to believe that you need better equipment before you can begin.

Sometimes you don't.

Sometimes the best thing you can do is simply start.

That's exactly what happened here.

I started.

I experimented.

I learned.

Then I kept going.

Would I make Lotsa Tones exactly the same way if I were starting today?

Probably not.

And that's actually a good thing.

Every project teaches us something.

Every project changes the way we approach the next one.

Already, I find myself thinking about new techniques I'd like to explore.

I'm interested in experimenting with more melodies.

I'm curious about creating richer harmonies.

I want to explore different rhythmic structures.

I want to see what happens when I combine multiple approaches together.

That's one of the most exciting parts about beginning a musical journey.

There is so much left to learn.

Some people worry about not being experts before they start creating.

I understand that feeling.

But I also think expertise is built by creating.

Nobody learns music by never making music.

Nobody becomes an author without writing.

Nobody becomes a podcaster without recording.

Experience grows through practice.

Every project becomes part of the education.

For me, Lotsa Tones represents that first lesson.

It represents curiosity over perfection.

Experimentation over hesitation.

Creation over fear.

Could I have waited until I knew more?

Of course.

But then I might still be waiting years from now.

Instead, I chose to create.

Now I have a debut song.

More importantly, I have experience.

And experience becomes the foundation for whatever comes next.

I don't know what my future music will sound like.

Maybe it'll become more melodic.

Maybe more cinematic.

Maybe more electronic.

Maybe something completely unexpected.

I'm looking forward to finding out.

For now, though, I'm proud of what Lotsa Tones represents.

Not because it claims to redefine music.

Not because it pretends to be perfect.

But because it marks the moment I stopped wondering whether I could make music and actually sat down to try.

Sometimes that's the hardest step of all.

Thank you to everyone who has listened to Lotsa Tones and supported this new chapter in my creative journey. Whether you discovered me through my books, my podcast, my blog, or now through my music, I'm grateful you're here.

This is only my first song.

There are many more experiments waiting to happen.

And honestly, I can't wait to hear where curiosity takes me next.