Lessons in Creativity from Rick Rubin: Focus on Your Art, Not the Audience

If you’ve heard Run‑D.M.C.‘s Rais­ing Hell, Rage Against the Machine’s self-titled debut, John­ny Cash’s Amer­i­can Record­ings, or Adele’s 21, you’ve heard the work of Rick Rubin. Yet even if you’ve lis­tened close­ly to every song on which he’s been cred­it­ed as a pro­duc­er over the past 45 years, you may have trou­ble pin­ning down what, exact­ly, the work of Rick Rubin is. Though his résumé includes such pro­fes­sion­al achieve­ments as co-found­ing both Def Jam Record­ings and Amer­i­can Record­ings, as well as shar­ing the pres­i­den­cy of Colum­bia Records for a stretch, he’s become best known in recent years as a kind of bare­foot sage of cre­ativ­i­ty.

Rubin has proven ready to dis­pense some­times-cryp­tic wis­dom in what­ev­er con­texts he finds him­self, and in the twen­ty-twen­ties, that role nat­u­ral­ly involves appear­ing on a lot of long-form inter­view pod­casts.

For Rubin in par­tic­u­lar, the pub­li­ca­tion of his book The Cre­ative Act: A Way of Being con­sti­tut­ed an incen­tive — or per­haps an excuse — to take a seat across from pop­u­lar pod­cast­ers like Lex Frid­man, Jay Shet­ty, and Andrew Huber­man. Nat­u­ral­ly, these con­ver­sa­tions spend a good deal of time on ques­tions of what it takes to cre­ate a work of art, great or oth­er­wise, in music or whichev­er medi­um it may be.

One of the most sur­pris­ing points to which Rubin returns again and again is that the best art is nev­er made to please an audi­ence. Instead of try­ing to antic­i­pate the tastes of oth­ers, you must first sat­is­fy your­self with your work. Think back to your first encounter with your very favorite albums, films, or books, and you’ll real­ize the truth of Rubin’s words. Even then, it must have felt like the musi­cian, the direc­tor, or the author did­n’t guess what you want­ed, but worked to cre­ate some­thing per­son­al­ly res­o­nant that went on to res­onate with you — and, per­haps, mil­lions of oth­ers as well.

The fac­tors involved in such an artis­tic con­nec­tion are many and inscrutable, in Rubin’s telling, and attempts at their expla­na­tion tend to verge on the mys­ti­cal. But they can’t be reduced to a for­mu­la that applies always and every­where, which means that cre­ators of all kinds have to go through expe­ri­ence after long expe­ri­ence of tri­al and error through­out their careers. For many, this can neces­si­tate get­ting a day job, Rubin’s advo­ca­cy of which puts him at odds with anoth­er of the most famous music producer/gurus of all time. But then, there’s more than one way to get cre­ative in this world.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Rick Rubin: The Invis­i­bil­i­ty of Hip Hop’s Great­est Pro­duc­er

The Beast­ie Boys & Rick Rubin Reunite and Revis­it Their For­ma­tive Time Togeth­er in 1980s NYC

Rick Rubin Revis­its the Ori­gins of Def Jam Records & the NYU Dorm Room Where It All Began

Mal­colm Glad­well and Rick Rubin Launch a New Music Pod­cast, Bro­ken Record: Lis­ten Online

Famed New Orleans Music Pro­duc­er Mark Bing­ham Dis­cuss­es His Songs and Col­lab­o­ra­tions: A Naked­ly Exam­ined Music Con­ver­sa­tion (#136)

The Long Game of Cre­ativ­i­ty: If You Haven’t Cre­at­ed a Mas­ter­piece at 30, You’re Not a Fail­ure

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. He’s the author of the newslet­ter Books on Cities as well as the books 한국 요약 금지 (No Sum­ma­riz­ing Korea) and Kore­an Newtro. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Enjoy a Medieval Cover of R.E.M.‘s “Losing My Religion”

?si=2xjPU8WlS7Yk5tRI

Dur­ing her life­time, the medieval abbess Hilde­gard von Bin­gen (1098–1179) com­posed rough­ly 77 songs and hymns. She remains the ear­li­est known woman com­pos­er in West­ern clas­si­cal music and one of the most impor­tant com­posers of the High Mid­dle Ages.

In her hon­or, a YouTu­ber who goes by Hilde­gard von Blin­gin’ has devel­oped a pen­chant for mak­ing Bard­core music, “a pas­tiche genre that takes mod­ern songs and makes them ‘old-timey’ with Medieval and Renais­sance inspired instru­men­ta­tion.” Most of the instru­men­tals fea­ture a mix of vir­tu­al and real instru­ments, includ­ing the Celtic harp, Irish whis­tle, and recorder.

Hildy’s lat­est release offers a cre­ative take on R.E.M.’s “Los­ing My Reli­gion,” com­plete with some revised lyrics:

I thought that I heard thee laugh­ing
I thought that I heard thee sing
I think I thought I saw thee try
That was but a dream
That was but a dream
That’s me in the cor­ner
‘Tis I in the cor­ner
‘Tis I in the fire­light, los­ing my reli­gion

If you need a short escape from real­i­ty, this will serve you well. Enjoy!

Relat­ed Con­tent 

Expe­ri­ence the Mys­ti­cal Music of Hilde­gard Von Bin­gen: The First Known Com­pos­er in His­to­ry (1098 – 1179)

Hear an Enchant­ed Medieval Cov­er of Dol­ly Parton’s Clas­sic Ode to Jeal­ousy, “Jolene

Lis­ten to Medieval Cov­ers of “Creep,” “Pumped Up Kicks,” “Bad Romance” & More by Hilde­gard von Blin­gin’

Brazilian Musician Seu Jorge Performs 15 Iconic Bowie Songs in Portuguese to Mark the 10th Anniversary of Bowie’s Passing

In 2004, the Brazil­ian musi­cian Seu Jorge record­ed a series of Por­tuguese cov­ers of David Bowie songs for Wes Anderson’s film The Life Aquat­ic with Steve Zis­sou. The next year, he released a full album of 13 Bowie clas­sics, and in 2016–2017, he even took the songs on tour. Now, in 2026, to mark the 10th anniver­sary of Bowie’s pass­ing, Jorge returns with the per­for­mance above. Set against a beau­ti­ful Brazil­ian coast­line, he sings some of Bowie’s most beloved tracks, all while in char­ac­ter as Pelé dos San­tos, the role he played in Anderson’s film. See the full track list below and enjoy.

Lady Star­dust
Rock ’n’ Roll Sui­cide
Queen Bitch
Oh! You Pret­ty Things
Suf­fragette City
Changes
Rebel Rebel
Quick­sand
Five Years
Team Zis­sou
Zig­gy Star­dust
Space Odd­i­ty
When I Live My Dream
Life on Mars?
Star­man

Relat­ed Con­tent 

David Bowie’s 100 Must Read Books

Every Wes Ander­son Movie, Explained by Wes Ander­son

Why Do Wes Ander­son Movies Look Like That?

The Art Col­lec­tion of David Bowie: An Intro­duc­tion

Miles Davis Opens for Neil Young and “That Sorry-Ass Cat” Steve Miller at The Fillmore East (1970)

miles fillmore east

The sto­ry, the many sto­ries, of Miles Davis as an open­ing act for sev­er­al rock bands in the 1970s makes for fas­ci­nat­ing read­ing. Before he blew the Grate­ful Dead’s minds as their open­ing act at the Fill­more West in April 1970 (hear both bands’ sets here), Davis and his all-star Quintet—billed as an “Extra Added Attraction”—did a cou­ple nights at the Fill­more East, open­ing for Neil Young and Crazy Horse and The Steve Miller Band in March of 1970. The com­bi­na­tion of Young and Davis actu­al­ly seems to have been rather unre­mark­able, but there is a lot to say about where the two artists were indi­vid­u­al­ly.

Nate Chi­nen in At Length describes their meet­ing as a “min­i­mum orbit inter­sec­tion distance”—the “clos­est point of con­tact between the paths of two orbit­ing sys­tems.” Both artists were “in the thrall of rein­ven­tion,” Young mov­ing away from the smooth­ness of CSNY and into free-form anti-vir­tu­os­i­ty with Crazy Horse; Davis toward vir­tu­os­i­ty turned back into the blues.

Miles, sug­gest­ed jazz writer Greg Tate, was “bored fid­dling with quan­tum mechan­ics and just want­ed to play the blues again.” The sto­ry of Davis and Young at the Fill­more East is best told by lis­ten­ing to the music both were mak­ing at the time. Hear “Cin­na­mon Girl” below and the rest of Neil Young and Crazy Horse’s incred­i­ble set here. The band had just released their beau­ti­ful­ly ragged Every­body Knows this is Nowhere.

When it comes to the meet­ing of Davis and Steve Miller, the sto­ry gets juici­er, and much more Miles: the dif­fi­cult per­former, not the impos­si­bly cool musi­cian. (It some­times seems like the word “dif­fi­cult” was invent­ed to describe Miles Davis.) The trum­peter’s well-earned ego­tism lends his lega­cy a kind of rak­ish charm, but I don’t rel­ish the posi­tions of those record com­pa­ny exec­u­tives and pro­mot­ers who had to wran­gle him, though many of them were less than charm­ing indi­vid­u­als them­selves. Colum­bia Records’ Clive Davis, who does not have a rep­u­ta­tion as a pushover, sounds alarmed in his rec­ol­lec­tion of Miles’ reac­tion after he forced the trum­peter to play the Fill­more dates to mar­ket psy­che­del­ic jazz-funk mas­ter­piece Bitch­es Brew to white audi­ences.

Accord­ing to John Glatt, Davis remem­bers that Miles “went nuts. He told me he had no inter­est in play­ing for ‘those fu*king long-haired kids.’” Par­tic­u­lar­ly offend­ed by The Steve Miller Band, Davis refused to arrive on time to open for an artist he deemed “a sor­ry-ass cat,” forc­ing Miller to go on before him. “Steve Miller didn’t have his shit going for him,” remem­bers Davis in his exple­tive-filled auto­bi­og­ra­phy, “so I’m pissed because I got to open for this non-play­ing motherfu*ker just because he had one or two sor­ry-ass records out. So I would come late and he would have to go on first and then when we got there, we smoked the motherfu*king place, and every­body dug it.” There is no doubt Davis and Quin­tet smoked. Hear them do “Direc­tions” above from an Ear­ly Show on March 6, 1970.

“Direc­tions,” from unre­leased tapes, is as raw as they come, “the inten­si­ty,” writes music blog Willard’s Worm­holes, “of a band that sounds like they were play­ing at The Fill­more to prove some­thing to some­body… and did.” The next night’s per­for­mances were released in 2001 as It’s About That Time. Hear the title track above from March 7th. You can also stream more on YouTube. As for The Steve Miller Blues Band? We have audio of their per­for­mance from that night as well. Hear it below. It’s inher­ent­ly an unfair com­par­i­son between the two bands, not least because of the vast dif­fer­ence in audio qual­i­ty. But as for whether or not they sound like “sor­ry-ass cats”… well, you decide.

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2015.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Night When Miles Davis Opened for the Grate­ful Dead in 1970: Hear the Com­plete Record­ings

In 1969 Telegram, Jimi Hen­drix Invites Paul McCart­ney to Join a Super Group with Miles Davis

Miles Davis Plays Music from Kind of Blue Live in 1959, Intro­duc­ing a Com­plete­ly New Style of Jazz

Jer­ry Gar­cia Talks About the Birth of the Grate­ful Dead & Play­ing Kesey’s Acid Tests in New Ani­mat­ed Video

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. 

MTV Rewind Lets You Revisit 40,000 Music Videos & Commercials from the Golden Age of MTV

MTV still exists. At least, it still exists in the Unit­ed States, or in cer­tain of that coun­try’s mar­kets, for the time being. A flur­ry of pre­ma­ture obit­u­ar­ies recent­ly blew through the inter­net after the announce­ment that the net­work had shut down in oth­er parts of the world, Europe includ­ed. But even there, some expressed the sen­ti­ment that MTV had already died long before. And indeed, in the U.S., where it orig­i­nal­ly launched, ask­ing who remem­bers when MTV actu­al­ly used to play music videos has been a com­mon lament for decades, aired even by gen­er­a­tions too young to remem­ber those days them­selves. But mem­bers of any gen­er­a­tion can now relive them — or live them for the first time — through a new site called MTV Rewind.

The first music video that greets the vis­i­tor is The Bug­gles’ “Video Killed the Radio Star,” and appro­pri­ate­ly so, since it inau­gu­rat­ed MTV itself when it went live on August 1st, 1981. What fol­lows are all the rest of the videos played on that first day, like Phil Collins’ “In the Air Tonight,” Blondie’s “Rap­ture,” David Bowie’s “Boys Keep Swing­ing,” and Kate Bush’s “Wuther­ing Heights.”

(Oth­er, less wide­ly remem­bered entries include no few­er than three songs by Cliff Richard, which speaks to the then-incom­plete for­ma­tion of the kind of pop-musi­cal cul­ture we still asso­ciate with MTV.) The site’s oth­er playlists recre­ate oth­er eras and genre-spe­cif­ic pro­grams, from 120 Min­utes to Total Request LiveHead­banger’s Ball to Yo! MTV Raps.

Cur­rent­ly, MTV Rewind’s music video count comes to about 40,000, enough to ensure any for­mer addict of the net­work a stream of nos­tal­gia hits. But the site’s cre­ator (a 43-year-old Amer­i­can res­i­dent in Alba­nia, accord­ing to the New York Times, known pseu­do­ny­mous­ly as “Flex”) has also incor­po­rat­ed vin­tage sta­tion IDs and com­mer­cials, many of them liable to trig­ger down­right Prous­t­ian sen­sa­tions in the right view­er. What may feel refresh­ing even to curi­ous younger vis­i­tors is that, whichev­er chan­nel they choose, the next video that plays is deter­mined not by an algo­rithm attempt­ing to pre­dict their per­son­al tastes. Rather, each playlist is shaped by the pop­u­lar cul­ture of a par­tic­u­lar era, with enough left-field selec­tions to keep it inter­est­ing: just the sort of thing in hopes of which we used to flip over to MTV, back when the idea of stream­ing video on our com­put­ers still sound­ed like sheer­est fan­ta­sy. Enter MTV Rewind here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch the First 2+ Hours of MTV’s Inau­gur­al Broad­cast (August 1, 1981)

All the Music Played on MTV’s 120 Min­utes: A 2,500-Video Youtube Playlist

The Com­plete Col­lec­tion Of MTV’s Head­bangers Ball: Watch 1,215 Videos from the Hey­day of Met­al Videos

The Inter­net Archive Res­cues MTV News’ Web Site, Mak­ing 460,000+ of Its Pages Search­able Again

The 50 Great­est Music Videos of All Time, Ranked by AV Club

Revis­it Pop-Up Video: The VH1 Series That Rein­vent­ed Music Videos & Pop Cul­ture

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. He’s the author of the newslet­ter Books on Cities as well as the books 한국 요약 금지 (No Sum­ma­riz­ing Korea) and Kore­an Newtro. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

When Pianist Maria João Pires Prepared to Perform the Wrong Mozart Concerto, Then Recovered Miraculously

Imag­ine, if you will, tak­ing a seat at the piano before a full house of 2,000 music lovers ready to hear Mozart’s Piano Con­cer­to No. 20 in D minor — and, more impor­tant­ly, on stage with an orches­tra and con­duc­tor more than ready to play it. That would be dif­fi­cult enough, but now imag­ine that you thought you were sup­posed to play the Piano Con­cer­to No.23 in A major, anoth­er piece of music entire­ly. This is the stuff of night­mares, and indeed, the very sit­u­a­tion in which pianist Maria João Pires found her­self in 2013, after she’d been recruit­ed to fill in for anoth­er play­er at an open rehearsal held at Ams­ter­dam’s Con­cert­ge­bouw. You can watch it unfold, assum­ing you can bear it, in the clip above.

As Pires says in the Clas­sic FM inter­view below, it had been “per­haps 11 months” since she’d last played the piece into which she could hear the orches­tra launch­ing, “and that’s the moment where you start los­ing the mem­o­ry of the details. That’s how the mem­o­ry func­tions, you know. And when peo­ple see this pan­ic, they per­haps don’t know that the real­i­ty is, we lose our mem­o­ries after just a cou­ple of months.”

It seems to have been the encour­age­ment of con­duc­tor Ric­car­do Chail­ly that got her through the moment of pan­ic and into a cred­itable per­for­mance. “You know it so well!” he insist­ed to her, and indeed, as he remem­bered lat­er, “The mir­a­cle is that she has such a mem­o­ry that she could, with­in a minute, switch to a new con­cer­to with­out mak­ing one mis­take.”

The eleventh-hour call Pires received ask­ing her to take the gig was part of the prob­lem, but so was a mis­heard num­ber. Accord­ing to the Köchel cat­a­logue, which orga­nizes all of Mozart’s work, the Piano Con­cer­to No. 20 in D minor is 466, where­as the Piano Con­cer­to No. 23 in A major is 488. Whether Pires mis­heard the K‑number or the caller mis­spoke, she soon found her­self faced with a musi­cal chal­lenge for which she felt com­plete­ly unpre­pared. In fact, she was­n’t: as Chail­ly knew, or at least banked on, her career as a clas­si­cal pianist up to that point had giv­en her all the expe­ri­ence she need­ed to draw upon to over­come the cri­sis. As her recov­ery reminds us, pro­fes­sion­al­ism isn’t so much about mak­ing sure that things always go right as being able to han­dle it when they go wrong. It hap­pens that Pires has gone through this par­tic­u­lar kind of mix-up three times, which makes her a con­sum­mate pro­fes­sion­al indeed.

via MyMod­ern­Met

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How Kei­th Jar­rett Played on a Bro­ken Piano & Turned a Poten­tial­ly Dis­as­trous Con­cert Into the Best-Sell­ing Piano Album of All Time (1975)

Watch the First Per­for­mance of a Mozart Com­po­si­tion That Had Been Lost for Cen­turies

Hear the Exper­i­men­tal Piano Jazz Album by Come­di­an H. Jon Ben­jamin — Who Can’t Play Piano

The Piano Played with 16 Increas­ing Lev­els of Com­plex­i­ty: From Easy to Very Com­plex

The Mis­take Waltz: Watch the Hilar­i­ous Bal­let by Leg­endary Chore­o­g­ra­ph­er Jerome Rob­bins

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. He’s the author of the newslet­ter Books on Cities as well as the books 한국 요약 금지 (No Sum­ma­riz­ing Korea) and Kore­an Newtro. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

“Riders on the Storm” Performed by John Densmore, Robby Krieger and 20+ Musicians Around the World

Formed in 1965, the Doors burned hot until Jim Mor­ri­son died in 1971, and the band final­ly broke up in 1973. The group left behind more than a few fine songs—“Light My Fire,” “Break On Through (To the Oth­er Side),” “L.A. Woman,” and “Road­house Blues,” to name a few. Above, the music col­lec­tive Play­ing for Change pays trib­ute to anoth­er Doors clas­sic, “Rid­ers on the Storm.” Fea­tur­ing per­for­mances by the two sur­viv­ing Doors mem­bers John Dens­more and Rob­by Krieger, the video also weaves in appear­ances by 20+ musi­cians, every­one from Lukas and Mic­ah Nel­son, to Don Was and Foo Fight­ers key­boardist Rami Jaf­fee. Accord­ing to Play­ing for Change, the “per­for­mance reimag­ines the clas­sic anthem as a med­i­ta­tion on uni­ty, hope, and shared human­i­ty,” qual­i­ties that oth­er­wise seem in short sup­ply today. Enjoy!

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent 

The Doors’ Ray Man­zarek Walks You Through the Writ­ing of the Band’s Icon­ic Song, “Rid­ers on the Storm”

How the Doors Got Banned from The Ed Sul­li­van Show (1967)

“The Lost Paris Tapes” Pre­serves Jim Morrison’s Final Poet­ry Record­ings from 1971

The Grate­ful Dead’s “Rip­ple” Played By Musi­cians Around the World (with Cameos by David Cros­by, Jim­my Buf­fett & Bill Kreutz­mann)

Jim Mor­ri­son Accu­rate­ly Pre­dicts the Future of Elec­tron­ic Music in 1969

Elementary School Choir Sings the Grateful Dead’s “Ripple,” “Box of Rain,” “Brokedown Palace” & More: RIP Bob Weir

?si=euaFB6jMJ_TPxRmf

Down in Austin, Texas, music teacher Gavin Tabone leads the Bar­ton Hills Choir, made up of 3rd- through 6th-grade stu­dents. Backed by pro­fes­sion­al musi­cians, the choir per­forms a wide-rang­ing mix of music, from clas­sic pop and rock to indie songs by artists like Wilco, Muse, The Flam­ing Lips, and espe­cial­ly the Grate­ful Dead. Above and below, you can find per­for­mances of such Dead clas­sics as “Rip­ple,” “Box of Rain” and “Going Down the Road Feel­ing Bad” → “I Know You Rid­er.” And if you head to their YouTube chan­nel, you can find ver­sions of “Cas­sidy,” “Touch of Grey,” “Scar­let Bego­nias,” “Broke­down Palace,” and more.

With the pass­ing of Bob Weir this week­end, it seems like a fit­ting time to high­light these per­for­mances. Weir first joined the Dead when only a teenag­er, still basi­cal­ly a kid him­self, and then con­tin­ued the jour­ney for the next 60 years, intro­duc­ing the Dead­’s song­book to suc­ces­sive gen­er­a­tions of fans. In recent years, he talked about the Dead song­book endur­ing for the next 200 to 300 years, much as Beethoven remains with us today. As we watch ele­men­tary stu­dents per­form Grate­ful Dead clas­sics, it’s hard not to think that Weir was on to some­thing.

Relat­ed Con­tent 

Ele­men­tary School Kids Sing David Bowie’s “Space Odd­i­ty” & Oth­er Rock Hits: A Cult Clas­sic Record­ed in 1976

The Grate­ful Dead’s “Rip­ple” Played By Musi­cians Around the World (with Cameos by David Cros­by, Jim­my Buf­fett & Bill Kreutz­mann)

When the Grate­ful Dead Played at the Egypt­ian Pyra­mids, in the Shad­ow of the Sphinx (1978)

The Iso­lat­ed Bass Grooves of The Grate­ful Dead’s Phil Lesh (RIP)

Stream a Mas­sive Archive of Grate­ful Dead Con­certs from 1965–1995

How the Grate­ful Dead’s “Wall of Sound”–a Mon­ster, 600-Speak­er Sound System–Changed Rock Con­certs & Live Music For­ev­er

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 1 ) |

« Go BackMore in this category... »
Quantcast