The Difficult Second Album

// The First One

The first time is almost always the easiest - I mean, thats what they say - the first idea, the original one. They say it's the easier one.. if we take my video, Relevance - the idea was the easy part, the execution not so much.

I mean the idea had been in my head for a really long time, it was a few ideas which came together into one single video - it was the actual execution of the idea which was difficult.

It wasn't because I knew what I was doing, but because I didn’t but there are no rules yet, no standards to be judged against. No ghosts whispering in your ear about what the “last one” looked like - absolutely no pressure, if it didn't land then it doesn't matter that much.. I'd done a video in the year before and whilst it was good, it wasn't at the standard that I wanted it to be at.

You throw yourself into an idea because you’ve got nothing to lose, you can pick up the camera, write the post, release the book, hit publish. And by some strange mix of energy, timing, and luck, it lands.

People notice or someone shares it. You feel that rare rush of recognition: I made something good.

And then the applause dies down, and you’re left with a harder question.

Now what?

// The Second Album

Every artist knows the curse of the second album.

Who remembers Rumours by Fleetwood Mac? Yep - absolute gold but I bet you can't name the flop which was the second album (Tusk).. It's what happens when you smash something or create something so brilliant the first time around.

The debut has a kind of magic to it - its years of lived experience poured into one place. No deadlines, no critics, no pressure to repeat the trick. Just hunger, rawness, instinct and it's completely without pressure.

But the follow-up? That’s where the weight kicks in. You’ve proven you can do it once, which means people expect you to do it again. Only better.

That expectation changes the work and it changes your mindset when it comes to creating something.

Suddenly the idea you've got in your notebook feels too precious to touch, the video script you loved yesterday feels like a cliché today - I can honestly say that I'm sat on a ton of blog posts, some of which I wanted to write immediately (and then left) but then when I come to write them again, they just read flat because I'm comparing it to the one that got all the nice comments or the one which I'm most proud of.

It's the same with videos - I have these creative ideas and then when I come to make them, edit them or just even film them, I'm looking at the idea and something which hasn't progressed from what I've done before - It's still kind stuck where it once was.

It’s not that the ideas aren’t good. It’s that I'm holding them too tightly, scared to waste them or even worse, make them and run the risk of it not being as good as the one before.

It's a self fulfilling prophecy too - I understand that.

// The Trap

It's the Creator Day video - this is what's doing it to me. The Relevance video which people did love - I made this video and it literally had people in tears, it was one of the best pieces of work I've ever done - and of course, I've sat in that space for a while now, loving the glow of adulation. But we're 8-9 months away from making the 'second' album and it's going to be hard.

I've got ideas in my head - I circle one (metaphorically, I'm not writing circles on my own head) - I overthink it. I want it to land just as hard and that’s the moment when making turns into calculating.

I’ll write down the ideas and then scrap them, open editing software and close it again - I'm telling myself I’m just waiting for the “right moment.” When really, I’m avoiding the risk of it falling short and having people say to me 'well it was good, but last years was better'..

The irony is painful - the more you try to save a good idea, the more lifeless it becomes.

It’s like buying new trainers and never wearing them outside, because you don’t want to ruin the white, eventually they'll sit in the box so long they yellow on their own and no-one got to see the brilliance anyway.

// The Shift

The breakthrough, if there is one, comes in remembering why the first thing worked at all - I think. I have to try to keep picturing my idea from last year and why it worked so brilliantly, the fact that it was polished. Or perfect. Or guaranteed to please - it was just an idea that I wanted to bring to life and put effort into.

It worked because I was unafraid to mess it up and ultimately I gave myself permission to play, to try, to share something without knowing if it would land and I wasn't worried about the output.

That’s the thing the second album threatens to steal - not your ability, but your looseness. The willingness to stumble.

There is also a beauty in wanting to make something as good (or better) than the first - it's growing, getting better and learning from the mistakes of the first one.. Adele's follow up (21) to her debut album (19) was better than the first..

The artists who escape the curse don’t do it by topping themselves, I thik they do it by lowering the stakes - by throwing themselves into making it quickly and by letting the first attempt be flawed - the joy was never in being brilliant, but in being brave enough to start and just create..

// The Invitation

I'm going through this now - it's tough to be 'creative' and come up with an idea that you think will mean something to people. I want to play with emotions when I create a video - my first creator day video, I wanted there to be laughter (I think it was because I was in a cast and my mind wanted me to cheer up) and the second video, I wanted there to be an 'emotional' drop..

Maybe you’ve got your own “second album” moment hanging over you right now.

It could be a big one - the next launch, the next pitch, the next chapter.. It could even be something smaller - a draft email, a sketch, a post idea which is sitting on your phone.

And you keep telling yourself... not yet. Not until I’m sharper, not until I know I won’t mess it up. I just want to remind you (and myself) that the first thing you made, it worked because it was free and the second thing will only work if you can find that freedom again.. I'm struggling with it, but it's what I keep telling myself.

So here’s the question I’m asking myself - what if I let this idea stumble into the world, even if it limps?

And isn’t that worth showing up for?

Maybe the second album was never about being better than the first. Maybe it’s just about being brave enough to make it.