Harry Bone • 2025-12-26
Recording yourself creates objective feedback you can't get whilst playing. But the real magic happens in the space AFTER recording. Learn why giving yourself distance transforms your understanding and makes songs feel easier when you return.
You've been working on a song for weeks. You can play it. It's not perfect, but it's solid.
Someone suggests: "You should record it."
You hesitate. "I'm not ready yet. I need to clean it up first. Get it perfect."
Here's the truth: the first recording isn't about perfection. It's about creating distance.
And that distance is where the real learning happens.
When you're playing drums, your brain is doing a lot at once:
Your perception whilst playing is inherently subjective.
You feel the tempo differently than it actually is. You think you're rushing when you're not. You're convinced a section is messy when it's actually fine.
You can't hear yourself objectively because you're too close to the process.
That's where recording comes in.
I spent a week or so learning "Dardahan" by Tigran Hamasyan. Complex polyrhythmic piece and musically intricate.
Finally, I recorded it. Three takes. Chose the best example take.
I choose an example take, when I know I need more time on a song and it gives me something to refer to later. It sounded... fine. A bit rushed in places. Some inconsistencies. But decent.
Then I gave it space.
I didn't obsess over it. I only made necessary notes for the next recording session, but didn't listen on repeat analysing every detail. I moved on to other songs, other exercises, other techniques.
A few days later, I recorded 3 takes again. Uploaded it to YouTube. Then gave it some more space.
A few days later again, I was food shopping..
I had my headphones in, listening to music. The Dardahan recording came up in my playlist.
And I thought: "This sounds really fast."
I started tapping along to it with my fingers.
Then I realised: it wasn't actually faster. I just hadn't really listened to it since I recorded it.
My perception had completely shifted. Listening to it superficially, it sounded faster.
Yet when I was playing it, it felt very different. As if I was criss-crossing between a laid back feel and a precision feel.
A couple of days later, I went back to play it.
And here's what shocked me: it felt really easy. That "second-ear" gave me a chance to replay it during the food shop, it gave me a chance to hear both the listener and drummer perspectives.
Not only was it easier than before. I'd levelled up entirely!
Why?
Because giving myself that space—recording it, stepping away, hearing it objectively—allowed my brain to consolidate what I'd actually achieved.
I wasn't fighting the song anymore. I truly understood it.
That's the power of the first take + space.
Here's the process that actually works:
Don't wait until it's perfect. Record it when it's good enough—when you can play through it with reasonable accuracy and musicality.
1-3 takes is the sweet spot.
Why not more takes? Because endless retakes make you hyper-focus on microscopic details whilst losing sight of the overall feel. You start chasing perfection instead of capturing a genuine performance.
Don't just leave it on your phone or computer where it'll sit unused.
Upload it:
The goal: You want to stumble across it in a different context later. Not whilst sitting at your kit analysing it—whilst walking, driving, shopping, relaxing.
This is critical: don't obsess over the recording.
Move on. Work on different songs, different techniques, different exercises.
Give your brain time and space to process what you've recorded without conscious effort.
This is where consolidation happens.
Your brain is still working on the material in the background, even when you're not actively thinking about it.
A few days later, when the recording comes up in your playlist or you choose to listen whilst doing something else (walking, commuting, cleaning), pay attention.
Ask yourself:
This objective listening is where perspective shifts.
When you sit back down at the kit and play the song again, notice what's changed.
Often, it feels easier. More natural. Less like you're fighting to keep up.
Why? Because you've moved from subjective experience (playing it) to objective observation (hearing it) and back to informed execution (playing it with deeper understanding).
That cycle transforms your relationship with the material.
There's actual neuroscience behind this.
When you learn a motor skill (like drumming), your brain encodes the movement patterns during practice. But the real solidification happens during rest periods—sleep, downtime, doing other activities.
Recording creates a marker for your brain:
"This is the current version of this skill. Store this."
Then, when you step away and practice other things, your brain continues processing that recording in the background. It's comparing what you played to what you intended. It's smoothing out inconsistencies. It's consolidating the pattern.
When you return, you're not starting from scratch. You're building on top of that consolidation.
That's why the song feels easier when you come back to it. Your brain has done work you weren't consciously aware of.
Most people treat recording as documentation: "I'll capture this so I have proof I played it."
That's fine. But it's not transformative.
Transformation happens when you use recording as part of the learning cycle:
Documentation = static snapshot Transformation = active learning tool
The first take matters because it kicks off this cycle. It creates the objective reference point that your brain can work with during the space period.
Some people hear "the first take matters" and think I'm saying you should only ever do one take and call it done.
That's not what I mean.
Here's what I actually do:
The point isn't "one take only." The point is: don't endlessly chase perfection. Capture something good, give it space, and let the consolidation process do its work.
If your child is working on a song and feeling stuck or frustrated, suggest recording it.
Not for a recital. Not to post online. Just to create that objective feedback loop.
What often happens:
They record it. They think it's terrible. They're convinced they're "not ready."
A few days later, they hear it again whilst doing something else. And they realise: "Actually, that's not as bad as I thought."
That shift in perception is huge.
It breaks the cycle of self-criticism and allows them to see their actual progress, not their subjective fear of imperfection.
Encourage them to:
This builds confidence and accelerates genuine improvement.
You don't need a professional setup. Phone camera or voice memo is fine.
Good enough audio quality to hear timing and feel is all you need.
Listen once or twice to confirm it's usable. Then step away.
Resist the urge to loop it 20 times picking apart every microsecond of timing drift.
The magic happens when you're not expecting it. When the recording comes up randomly in your playlist and you hear it with completely fresh ears.
That's when perspective shifts most dramatically.
When you play the song again after giving it space, pay attention to the difference.
Does it feel easier? More natural? Less like you're fighting it?
That feeling is proof the consolidation worked.
This isn't a one-time thing. As you improve the song, record again. Give it space again. Return again.
Each cycle deepens your understanding and solidifies your execution.
The first take matters—not because it needs to be perfect, but because it creates the objective reference point you need to grow.
The cycle:
The magic isn't in the recording itself. It's in the space between recording and returning.
Your brain consolidates. Your perception shifts. Your understanding deepens.
When you come back to play it, it feels easier—not because you practised it more, but because you gave yourself the distance to hear it objectively.
So if you're working on a song right now and you keep thinking "I'm not ready to record it yet," you're wrong.
You're ready. Record it. Give it space. Watch what happens when you return.
That's how you transform from someone who can play a song to someone who understands a song.
Working on material you want to record but not sure if you're ready? Let's build your confidence and get that first take done—it'll transform how you hear yourself. Contact me for drum lessons in Bristol
