‘Your life changes the moment you realize that pure passion and a dream career aren’t the same — but each has an equally important place.’
— POTB
A while ago, I asked my viewers what they would prioritize between reconnecting with a childhood passion and improving workflow. The first example was a musical instrument. The second — a device to help with whatever they do. Most voted for passion.
While I did the opposite, recently, I also got the first.
The second was the Apple Studio Display, which made an enormous difference in my work. The first — a premium scratch mixer, as my roots are in turntablism.
So, as I did with the display, in this one, I won’t emphasize specs but philosophical perspectives and life lessons. Meanwhile, I’ll (also) unbox the Rane Seventy related to my childhood passion.
For those new to my work, I go by the name of POTB. I am a creator focusing on topics like psychology, philosophy, human potential, and creativity. When they make sense, I incorporate Esoteric perspectives. Whatever the case, I strive to create aesthetically pleasing content. And recently, I (also) began incorporating discussions of my tools. So stick around if that sounds interesting! If it doesn’t, don’t.
Not One of Them
Often, people claim they’ll return to their childhood passion, getting their instrument (or whatever) after making this or that amount (or achieving a particular outcome). Based on my observations, usually:
- Their goal is (purely) extrinsically motivated — a craving for status or approval of others they don’t care about.
- They hardly get back to their childhood passion. Even if they buy that ‘hypothetical instrument,’ it’s mostly to show off to people they (also) don’t care about.
Now. No judgment here, but the idea of becoming such a person always shook me. So, let’s dive into a few stories and principles to (hopefully) inspire you to live more fully.
The Album Cover
In my early 20s, I re-encountered an album cover that impacted me profoundly. It showed an image of a child fading away before an adult’s hand holding a door key. Its title: ‘Goodbye, Youth,’ or something similar.
Besides saddening, that felt like a reminder of never becoming someone, locking their inner child behind the doors to the past and letting it fade away. Sadly, some do that without realizing it. So, let me provide context.
Turntablism: My Childhood Passion
Turntablism was my childhood passion. It played an enormous role in my life. Preparing for small battles and winning first and second place got me off crippling substance and alcohol abuse.
Combined with receiving recognition in the academy of my childhood hero, DJ Qbert, the art of Scratch pulled me out of a very dark place. It all happened before bodybuilding, which got me into personal development and philosophy and to which I own just as much.
Built From Scratch
If I had to pick a favorite psychologist, Viktor Frankl comes first. Logotherapy emphasizes identifying a purpose or meaning aligned with your life’s current stage.
Accomplishing this most important task enables us to achieve extraordinary feats and change. The best example is Frankl, who re-wrote his manuscript despite the circumstances.
Frankl (often) asked his patients why they wouldn’t commit а suicide? Apparently, this could be rephrased as why wouldn’t you self-destruct.
My answer was clear: To practice and not betray my mom, who got me turntables. It wasn’t about reconciling past experiences but preparing for a future event(s), cultivating skills, discipline, and self-preservation. Also, learning to set and (actually) pursue goals.
While the meaning or purpose can change, mine’s beginning is literally built from Scratch. Those resonating know their childhood passion is the key to their youth. Let me know if that’s you.
Unfinished Tracks
My passion transformed into making music while incorporating scratching. However, with the advent of Apple Silicon, my mixer became unsupported and largely unsuitable for my needs. For those not knowing:
Serato can play any sound through controllers, letting you scratch like it’s ‘real vinyl.’ Without that working, a mixer (really) can’t do much.
As some of you know, my videos include only my own tracks (many of which are unfinished). For a while, I tried finishing them with different arrangements, but that never worked out.
Eventually, I realized a track would never feel complete without scratching. I’d never be able to reach that stage Rick Rubin defines as (paraphrasing):
‘The artist and the work no longer have anything to tell each other. So they part ways living their own lives…’
Time
“Life is what happens when you’re busy making plans.”
— John Lennon
Although I planned to get a mixer and finish the tracks, there was always something ‘more important’ related to content (and work). Whether for yourself or clients, quality production is not free.
- Log-filming cameras;
- Lights;
- Sound;
- Reliable computer(s) and display(s);
- Sharp lenses;
- Media and Back-ups;
None of that is free. Obsessed with it, we often prioritize building ourselves as professionals. While that’s beautiful, sometimes life slaps us in the face. To me, this was the death of my cat and turning 35. Reminding me of that album cover, those events revealed a question and opportunity.
The question was whether to reconnect with the aspects of me that saved my life? Or let them perish like the child from the cover?
The opportunity was of the now. There would always be new Macs, camera bodies, and lenses.
Conversely, getting the mixer felt exclusive to the moment. It was either getting it now or leaving things to chance and entropy. Plus, the lowest price was at a local store, where a single open-box unit seemed to be waiting for me.
The Call
I called the store, but the lady told me the mixer was (already) gone. Hearing those words, I (almost) saw the child from the cover disappearing. A few moments later, the lady clarified that this was a mistake and I could order. I (ultimately) did, experiencing a great relief.
Qabalistic Wisdom
According to Qabalistic psychology, the sphere of Yesod, the personal subconscious (in the Tree of Life), holds your animal soul (nephesh). Among other things, the nephesh contains your inner child.
Two of the spheres directly linked to Yesod are:
- Netzach, the raw emotions and passions.
- Hod, the intellect, and rational thinking.
Netzach reflects Geburah, which is conquering, self-preservation, and elimination of purposeless fluff. Hod – Chessed, or expansion, creativity, and development.
One of Hod’s functions is taming the nephesh’s impulses, which are primarily expressions of Netzach’s passions. However, to function properly, Hod needs to be powered by Netzach through the path of Peh.
Think of modern science telling us that the rational brain only rationalizes decisions made by the emotional.
Being an aspect of Geburah, the path of Peh is the tower card telling us nothing meaningful can be built on a rotten foundation.
Now. Whether you are into Qabalah, you have to make these centers work together and collaborate with your nephesh. Otherwise, you’re risking permanent willpower depletion and a life with no excitement and emotion. Think of those showing off their instrument but never using it.
While mastering what Napoleon Hill defines as the three basic appetites has a major role, engaging your inner child is just as crucial for getting your nephesh on board and reaping health and performance benefits beyond the scope of this post. The best way to do so is to reconnect with your childhood passion.
Life Force and Ideas
After watching my Studio Display video, an artmaker commented that engaging their childhood passion (music) proved beneficial to his work.
Actually, I cannot agree more. As far as your tools do everything needed, providing ‘ease of circumstances’ and ‘removing obstacles,’ embodying the principles of the Qabalistic Jupiter and the Hindu god Ganesha.
Dion Fortune and Israel Regardie agree that the Nephesh has more contact with the Life force than the rational mind. Based on experience:
‘Engaging your childhood passion stimulates the life force within, keeping your creativity fertile.’
It doesn’t necessarily provide (actual) ideas but helps you generate them on the fly.
The Key
A purchase like mine is more than reconnecting with a hobby. It facilitates collaboration between Netzach, Hod, and Yesod, giving your inner child a key to your current life and making them feel welcome.
It keeps their image vivid, saturating your life with excitement and childlike curiosity, pivotal to any success and your (actual) purpose.
Let me know if that resonates. And let’s proceed with the technical part, addressing some reasons for picking up the Rane Seventy.
Unboxing and First Impressions
Not as glamorous as an Apple product, the Rane Seventy‘s unboxing is still enticing. The box has a dope illustration, reminding me of those of the R5C and C70 cameras. It includes:
- Instructions;
- CDs I don’t know who’ll use;
- Fader lubricant;
- Control Records
- Power cord;
- And USB to Thunderbolt cables
- The mixer itself is wrapped in plastic.
My first impression is that the mixer looks and feels absolutely fantastic. Literally. It’s pretty heavy, suggesting reliability.
Rane
Although I was a ‘Vestax zealot,’ I’ll never forget my first time trying Rane. It was the 57. The fader was so smooth, feeling like there was only the knob. It let me perform combos I couldn’t on others. So, I got a Sixty-One when it came.
Fifteen years later, that mixer looks decent and still works for a PC, with its cross-fader changed once. In contrast, others’ faceplates start looking gross within a year.
Design and Build Quality
The Seventy feels like a tank. It is mostly solid steel, while others — plastic. The design is (also) stunning, inspiring me to actually use it. Plus, it feels like home.
Faders
Speaking of faders, those in the Seventy are the last iteration of the mentioned. They are buttery smooth, and the even better is that:
- Unlike others, putting different ones for the up-and-down volumes and (actually) sealing them to the logic board, Rane provides three MagFour faders which are their best.
- All three are easy to replace.
Sound
Rane mixers are notorious for their sound quality. Perhaps analogous to Apollo interfaces, as they both have a fuller and warmer sound.
This is crucial as I plan to record my scratching and use it in music. Otherwise, the Seventy has two sound cards, which I can’t truly appreciate as I don’t DJ.
Pads
Since Akai and Rane are one company, the Seventy’s pads resemble those of the MPCs. Though I probably won’t use them, I’m happy with that as I’ve heard they are better than those of Maschine on which I started producing.
Effects and Customization
Mentioning stuff I won’t use, the Seventy has plenty of effects and customization, which falls to that group. I simply need a reliable and inspiring instrument to keep me making music (in my free time).
Although not the newest, the Seventy fits that bill perfectly. Hopefully, Apple won’t change silicon anytime soon. Fingers crossed.
As covered in my Studio Display video, it’s not about getting the latest and fanciest but having everything you need to (actually) create the work you want to create.
Seventy-Two
As far as the Seventy-Two, which is very similar but has a display, I really don’t want to look at another screen while scratching butr use that time to let my eyes rest. Let me know your thoughts. And (now) let’s recap some key messages.
Recap
Reconnecting with your childhood passions isn’t just about hobbies. It’s about fueling your growth, creativity, and productivity. Whether that’s an instrument or something else, your journey is about finding a balance between what excites you and what serves your greater purpose.
Sure, being passionate about work is mandatory. Yet real work is never pure passion. And pure passion seldom covers all aspects of a career. Hence, professionals always get the job done, whereas hobbyists only when they feel like it.
Sooner or later, we understand that being first in some areas requires being second in others. But that’s just my opinion. If it resonates, subscribe, comment your thoughts, and check the links in the description. Thank you for your time.
