Welcome back, beautiful souls. You're tuned in
to another episode of Why Make Music... Dot, dot,
dot. And I'm your host, your cousin, your favorite
late night frequency, DJ Warm Cookies, also known
as Willa May. Now listen, today's episode. This
one's got some weight to it. We're calling it
Too Real for the Algorithm. The mind of a middle
-aged music maker. And if that title alone don't
make you raise an eyebrow and exhale real slow,
you might need to clean your earbuds out. This
episode is powered, produced, and personally
soul -stitched by the one and only T -H -I -N -K
. That's right. ThinkTimm. Ain't no team of
interns. Ain't no studio full of writers. Just
one man, one mic, and one mission. And y 'all,
we're diving in deep. So pour yourself something
warm. Loosen up that frequency. And let's take
this ride together. And don't worry if the algorithm
didn't recommend this episode. That just means
it's probably too good for it. Let's go. Chapter
1. Before the upload. The origin story. Let's
talk about what it means to fall in love with
music before there were followers. Before there
were hashtags. Before there were loops and filters
and presets. When music was a cassette you had
to flip. When making a mix meant recording the
radio, timing your fingers, and missing the first
second of your favorite song every single time.
You remember that. That analog love. When you
first heard Stevie in your mama's Buick. When
you saw that one cousin at the barbecue who had
a keyboard, a little amp, and way too much soul
for a 12 -year -old. Music wasn't just entertainment.
It was identity. It was the thing you carried
in your Walkman. In your trunk. In your bedroom.
On posters and lyrics handwritten in notebooks.
That's where this story starts. With a love for
sound that predates all the noise. That's where
ThinkTimm's story begins. Not with a Spotify
artist profile, but with curiosity, with family,
with memory, with late night thoughts and early
morning grooves. He didn't grow up chasing streams.
He grew up chasing feeling. And in those early
days, the question wasn't, how do I go viral?
It was, how do I make someone feel the way that
song made me feel? That's where the hunger lives.
That's where it always lived. And you don't shake
that kind of feeling not at 20, not at 40, not
ever. We're going to get into all of it today.
The journey, the doubt, the growth, the gear,
the grind, the greatness. But first, let's take
a moment. Let's acknowledge the courage it takes
to even be here. Because if you're listening
to this, you're still making and that means something.
Chapter two, the learning curve of confidence.
Let's shift gears. Let's talk about something
that most folks don't like to admit out loud.
Learning new things when you're no longer new.
Let's shift gears. Because there's this lie floating
around out there that creativity has a shelf
life. That if you didn't catch your wave by 25,
the surfboard gets repossessed. That if you weren't
signed by 30, you should pack it up, get a LinkedIn,
and start talking about retirement accounts.
But what they don't know is that middle -aged
creativity, it's dangerous. Because it's focused.
It's resilient. It's unapologetically seasoned.
That's what Think Tim had to lean into. When
you grow up on tape decks and CD players, stepping
into digital production feels like walking into
a spaceship. So many buttons. So many shortcuts.
So many tutorials. And none of them start with,
remember when you used to record on cassette.
But here's the magic. You figured it out anyway.
One click at a time. One export fail at a time.
One late night YouTube rabbit hole at a time.
Because that's what artists do, we adapt. It
started with simple loops. Then came layering
drums. Then came vocal stems. Then came podcasting
now. He's passing between FL Studio, Logic Pro,
CapCut, and Canva like it's nothing. He's not
just a music maker. He's a digital technician
of the soul. Confidence is not something that
waits for you to get comfortable. Confidence
is built in the middle of the discomfort. It's
what happens when you click render and pray it
sounds right. When you Google terms like cytokine
compression with no idea what they mean. When
your daughter says, Dad, what is this AI voice
thing? And you say, let me show you. And it's
what happens when you sit back, listen to your
own track, and go, damn, I made this. All of
it. That's the confidence curve. Not the applause.
Not the awards. Not the metrics. Just the quiet
knowledge that you can. And you did. And you
will again. Chapter 3. Too real for the algorithm.
Let's talk about the machine. Not the one in
the studio. Not the laptop. I'm talking about
the invisible machine. The one we all feed. The
one that watches, ranks, calculates, and spits
out value in views, likes, comments, shares.
The algorithm. That word. It sounds so sterile.
So technical. But let's be honest. It's spiritual
now. It's behavioral. It doesn't just see what
you post, it feels what you fear. It feeds on
rhythm, but not your musical rhythm, your behavior
rhythm. And if you don't feed it daily, it forgets
you. That's the battle ThinkTimm walks through.
Three million views on Reels, and barely any
conversion. Thousands of hours poured into tracks,
only to watch them vanish in the scroll. Genuine
vulnerability uploaded for public consumption.
And silence on the other side. But here's what
makes LinkedIn different. He posts anyway. He
uploads anyway. He shares anyway. Why? Because
he's not feeding the machine. He's feeding the
mission. Validation doesn't always come on time.
But the work? The work is always on time. See,
the algorithm is built to reward trends. It wants
the familiar. It wants copies of copies. It wants
what already worked. But ThinkTimm is not a copy.
He's a catalog. He doesn't create for the current.
He creates for the archive. Because somebody
out there will stumble on a song he made four
years ago and find exactly what they needed at
the right moment. The algorithm can't calculate
impact. The algorithm can't see the tears that
track helped hold. It can't see the kid in their
room replaying that instrumental to feel less
alone. That's why we say, too real for the algorithm.
Because some of us aren't trying to game the
system. We're trying to feed the spirit. Chapter
4. The ones who never clap, but always come back.
Let's talk about the ones you don't see. The
invisible audience. The quiet ones. The folks
who never hit the like button, never comment,
never share, but they listen. They listen deeply.
They follow without clicking. They support you
in silence. And for every artist like ThinkTimm,
those people are sacred. Because see, the loudest
crowd isn't always the most loyal. Sometimes,
it's the ones sitting in the back row who feel
you the deepest. And they're there. Watching.
Feeling. Learning. Healing. They don't show up
in your analytics. They don't boost your engagement
rate. But they're in the room. They're the ones
who message you two years after a release and
say, that track helped me survive something.
Or, I've been following you quietly. You inspire
me. They're proof that the algorithm doesn't
determine the impact. They might be the ones
who recommend you in a room you never stepped
into. They might be the ones who play your music
on a hard day, and never tell you but, never
forget you. And that invisible audience, that's
what makes this all worth it. They're the reason
you keep uploading. The reason you keep refining.
The reason you work at breakneck speed, just
to prove it can be done. Because we don't have
time to slow down. We don't have time to wait
for the world to recognize us. We all have 24
hours in a day. What are you gonna do with yours?
Me? I'm gonna build. I'm gonna produce. I'm gonna
craft a foundation to place my family upon. One
made not just of music, but of memory. Not just
of sound, but of legacy. I'm going to use what
I've lived through to bless the ones coming after
me. That's the force. That's the bond. That's
what this is all about. Chapter 5. Metaphysical
Frequencies. Let's open the portal. Let's talk
about something that lives beyond language, beyond
rhythm, beyond even understanding. Where does
it all come from? That hook you hum in the shower.
That chord progression that feels like it existed
before you played it. That verse you wrote in
one sitting that said everything your heart had
been holding for years. Where does it come from?
Some call it inspiration. Some call it the muse.
Some call it the force. Me. I think it's a kind
of divine radio. A signal. A frequency. And if
your antenna's clear enough, you catch it. And
sometimes, you're not even writing. You're translating.
Because creativity, real creativity, feels less
like invention and more like discovery. It's
not always you thinking. Sometimes it's you receiving.
Ideas exist. They exist before you get them.
They exist even when no one hears them. You don't
own them. You don't create them from scratch.
You connect to them. Some people call that channeling.
Some people call it divine alignment. And there
are stories. Stories of two people across the
globe writing the same melody on the same day.
Stories of inventions, of innovations, of identical
lyrics born miles apart. You know what that is?
That's frequency. That's vibration. That's evidence
that inspiration doesn't just live inside us.
It lives around us. You've got to be tuned in
to catch it. And back in ThinkTimm's heyday when
he was in rehearsal rooms with his band, laying
down funky bass lines on cassette tapes, channeling
solos that would make the ancestors nod in approval,
he was tuned in. No internet. No influencers.
No daily content schedule. Just raw vibration.
Just soul. And guess what? That music. It still
holds up. Because it wasn't built for the moment.
It was built from the eternal. Let me say something
deep now. The law of attraction. When you're
a creator, especially one like think to your
output, is connected to your outlook. What you
believe, you attract. What you focus on, expands.
What you envision begins to move toward you.
So if you approach your art with lack, you'll
feel like there's never enough. But if you approach
it with abundance, the universe starts echoing
that energy. This is metaphysics. But it's also
mindset. ThinkTimm doesn't just hope people find
his work. He acts like they will. He moves like
the world is already watching. He produces like
the stage is already set. He creates as if it's
already received on that confidence, that faith,
that vibration. It begins to pull people in,
not because of marketing, but because of magnetism.
The law of attraction says that everything is
energy and energy responds to intention. So when
you move with purpose, with passion, with clarity,
You begin to call things to you. And that's what
this podcast is. It's a beacon. It's a frequency.
It's a lighthouse in the dark for other creatives
who feel the call but don't yet feel seen. Chapter
6. Legacy Loops. Let's bring it all home. Let's
talk about legacy. Let's talk about building
something that echoes far beyond the years you're
given. Because truth be told, ThinkTimm didn't
do this for fame. He didn't do it for a bag.
He didn't do it to trend, to chart, or to flex.
He did it for his family. He did it so that his
children would know. Life can be good. You can
own your ideas. You don't just have to sit in
the audience. You can write the script. You don't
just have to listen to music. You can create
it. You can design the world around you with
your hands, your heart, and your mind. That's
the lesson. That's the mission. Financial security
isn't the end goal. It's the launch pad. It's
the thing that lets you create without fear,
without the panic of deadlines, without the feeling
that you're racing against the rent. It's the
thing that lets you look your children in the
eye and say, You don't have to sacrifice your
dreams to survive. And music. Music is the language
of that freedom. Music doesn't require a passport.
It doesn't ask for credentials. It doesn't need
a degree, a headshot, or a business plan. All
it needs is for you to show up. To pick the ideas
out of the sky. To catch what the universe delivers.
To move the crowd. to move yourself think tim
showed up again and again he learned the tools
he learned the software he taught himself what
the industry never gave him he created hundreds
of songs actual tangible pieces of art ask yourself
how many people can say they've created something
something that wasn't made of flesh and bone
but soul and sound How many people leave behind
more than memories? How many leave behind documents
of greatness? And here's what's wild. Even if
Think Tim doesn't blow up, the music still exists.
It still lives. It's in the code, in the files,
in the playlists, in the metadata of streaming
services that may outlive us all. Because when
the world spins forward, There will still be
evidence that a man named ThinkTimm lived. That
DJ Warm Cookies was real. That Willa May had
something to say. That WDMN meant something.
This is legacy. This is foundation. This is eternity.
Rendered in 44 .1 kilohertz. Epilogue, the encore,
this is forever. Let the horns play. Let the
drums kick. This, this is how we close. Not with
silence, but with sound, with power, with presence,
with prophecy. Let's talk about 2025. Let's talk
about a time where everyone has a plan, everyone
has a feat, everyone has a chance to become famous
not for talent, not for truth, but just for timing.
But then there's the other path, the rare path.
The one where you rise not because of popularity,
but because of persistence. Because you were
unshakable. Because you were unbothered. Because
you were unmissable, even if they tried to scroll
past you. Let's talk about what average even
means now. When you can scroll a feed full of
noise, but hear no soul. When common sense ain't
common, and talent isn't enough unless it's branded.
Let's talk about what work really is. Because
the ones who built the system, they know the
rules. They play the game. They've been on the
inside. But what about those of us on the outside?
What about the ones without an invite but who
built the house anyway? The man with no budget,
no staff, no machine, who created more music
than most signed artists in a year. The man who
turned pain into podcast. Silence into substance.
Legacy into loop. You gotta understand this wasn't
about ego. This wasn't about chasing stardom.
This was about showing his children that you
don't just sit in a crowd. You become the show.
You create your own narrative. You make the music.
And you build. You build a body of work so solid,
so pure. So persistent. That it must be recognized.
Even if that recognition comes decades late.
Because sometimes legacy is delayed. But never
denied. Let's speak the names. Prince. Michael.
Beyonce. Biggie. Jay -Z. Queen Latifah. Slick
Rick. Run DMC. Taylor Swift. Visionaries. All
of them. But not overnight. They were doubted.
They were denied. They were dismissed. Just like
many of us. But they kept going. Because creation
is not optional for us. It's sacred. It's spiritual.
It's medicine. It's math. It's movement. And
it's prophecy. Don't be afraid of influence.
Don't be afraid to say, this artist made me believe
again. Don't be afraid to say, I loved Salt -N
-Pepa. I loved Dougie Fresh. I loved The Show.
I loved Planet Rock. Say it with pride. Because
from that love, greatness is born. From that
love, comes ThinkTimm. Comes DJ Warm Cookies. Comes
Willa May. Comes a universe of sound and soul
and strategy and substance. So shout it out.
Say the names. Remember the roots. Build your
own branches. Because the future, it starts right
now. So here's the call. This is the one that
lives forever. Follow ThinkTimm on Instagram.
Subscribe to the YouTube channel. Stream on Spotify,
Apple Music, Amazon, and SoundCloud. By the merchant
teepublic.com/thinktim. and thinktim.threadless.com
Follow the vibes on Bluesky @ThinkTimm.
We don't do Twitter anymore. That's not the place
to be. You know where we're at. You know where
we'll be. Right here. Creating. Uploading. Talking.
Teaching. Looping. Forever. This is why I make
music. This is DJ warm cookies. This is ThinkTimm
This is your reminder that greatness doesn't
ask for a seat. It builds the table until next
time. Keep creating, keep listening, keep leading.
And when they ask who gave you permission to
be this damn good.