I wasn’t planning on releasing a third Anderhill project this year, but it just sort of happened. This 7-track album is called Rooms.
At first, I was going to name each track based on what the piece made me feel, or what it reminded me of. For instance, I hear the ocean in the first track. But as I was listening back to another track, I felt like I was in a big room. That gave me the idea of simply calling the album, Rooms.
All of these compositions are created fully within the DAW except for “Rm. 666,” which is subtitled “I Broke Your Heart” based on the back-masked sampled voices.
I feel new energy for electronic experimental music rising. Next year, I’ll work on more sampling and incorporating real sounds and instruments into the work. Enjoy. – dse
I wanted to complete one more Anderhill project before the year’s end. Over the last few days I’ve been working on a few tracks. A trilogy will have to do for now. Here’s Little Trilogy.
Now that I’m no longer working full time, I hope 2026 will allow me more time to work on ambient and drone music. I’ll also be moving back to Maine which offers a lot of great landscapes to meditate upon. My electronic work is often based on place.
This short EP, Little Trilogy, is reminiscent of work I did during the pandemic. It has dark and light drone and ambient compositions that may be a hint of more to come in 2026. – dse
I’ll be making a rare performance in a week! If you live in the area come on by and check out the show.
Since retiring from my day job, I’ve been doing a little bit of playing in the Nashville region. On December 3, 2025, I’ll do a one-hour set on the patio at Our Spot, 134 Broadway, Gallatin, TN.
I’m not making a huge push to do live performances, but my goal is to play once or twice a month in the region until I move back to Maine in the spring. I’ll post more dates and times soon.
If you live in the area, come on out and check out the show. – dse
Lower Broadway, Nashville – Photo by Dan Steven Erickson
When I was a young songwriter I didn’t see it. I came to Nashville in the early 1990s and played my songs at open mic nights, and among small groups of singer-songwriters at houses and hotels. We were all having fun. Some writers were good, some sucked. I thought I was okay, but I knew I was still a beginner.
Almost 35 years, and well over 1000 songs later, I’m back in Nashville and my perspective has changed. And let me say, from the outset, I’m guilty of what I’m about to say. Songwriters and musicians, maybe artists in general, are often filled with self-importance.
I moved to Nashville in the fall of 2024 with a huge catalog of songs. But I moved here for work, not to play or plug my songs. Then I unexpectedly stopped working at the start of this month. I have a lease until May 1, 2026. So, I decided to go out and mingle among the musicians and writers.
Everyone tends to talk about themselves.
Among groups of songwriters, I’ve discovered that most songwriters spend the majority of their time telling others about themselves, about their songs, their experiences, and skills. I understand that artists need to market themselves, but I note a self-absorption that is slightly off-putting.
Coming from an educational background in communication, I have the ability to speak in public, but I’ve tried to keep to myself and lay low at these musical gatherings. Perhaps that’s a weakness. Or maybe it’s the nature of what I think the #1 tool of a good songwriter is: observational skills.
Other than my closest friends, and people on my social media, very few acquaintances know that I’m a songwriter. And I often consider eliminating Facebook, my one social media. Although, like any artist, I want my work to be seen and heard, I struggle with the whole self-promotion aspect. It feels too self-important. “Look at me!” Instead of spending hours in the bars promoting myself, I’d rather be writing, reading, or hiking.
The pot calling the kettle black.
You might wonder if I lack confidence because I tend to be reserved among groups, including songwriting groups. Upon some self reflection that is definitely not the case. As I said earlier, I can be just as guilty of being self-absorbed as the next. But I also have a long history of songwriting.
I know there are probably thousands of writers who feel this way, but in the past few years I’ve often referred to myself as, “A Great Undiscovered American Songwriter,” with the emphasis on great or American. You decide.
But I say “great” because I have spent a lifetime learning and honing my craft. I have studied the greats. I have stopped trying to be like anyone else and simply do what I do. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I simply write songs regularly, take ’em or leave ’em.
But does that make what I do important? Not really. Sure, a song could change the world. A song could save a life. Songs can make people happy. They touch us emotionally. They can be therapeutic. But does that mean I’m special or worthy of praise?
I’m just doing something that comes natural to me. It started when I was a child. I heard songs on the radio. I wrote my own. It helped me through six years of being a child victim of a cult. It’s a fun pastime. It’s therapeutic and it has an element of curiosity and discovery. Songs are puzzles. It keeps one’s mind sharp.
But given a choice between spending the rest of my life fighting among the crowded bars and competitive music business (even with a guarantee of success), or simply living my life on my own terms and spending my time doing a variety of things that I love, including songwriting, I’d choose the latter. – dse
I’ve been writing songs for a long time. I’ve written more than 1500 songs in a variety of genres. So what happens now, when AI can write the songs? Are we done?
First, AI is simply a tool. It can be used in many ways. It can help musicians and songwriters. It can also help greedy capitalists make more money.
Chances are fair, that for now, as long as people still want to see live music, that AI won’t replace the songwriter immediately or completely. However, it’s my guess that that may change in time.
It seems that everything business revolves around money, and the less human involvement in any production line, the less money spent. Corporations love that.
So what happens when the songwriter is pushed out of the equation? I’m not sure. But I do worry that the more the human race relies on technology and AI, the more ignorant and incapable we will become as a whole.
That will leave us in a very weak position as a species.
Marshall McLuhan said it years ago, “We shape the tools and then the tools shape us.” What are the tools we’ve made making us into? Honestly, they are making us lazy and ignorant.
Here’s something I posted about AI and songwriting a couple months ago. – dse
When it comes to musical instruments I’m not a minimalist. I try. But I do have less instruments than I did a few years ago. It also depends on what I include.
For this post, I’m going with stringed instruments. I have ten stringed instruments.
Recently, I did a trade. I traded a problematic Gibson L-00 acoustic guitar for a Martin. Check out the YouTube.
If you include other stuff, the list gets longer. I have a toy piano, a concertina, harmonicas, hand drums, shakers, a handful of electric guitar pedals and other musical paraphernalia. But who’s counting? – dse