Why Make Music… Episode 51 - “It Was Different” ⸻ Hello hello, and welcome back to Why Make Music… This is Episode 51, and we’re calling it “It Was Different.” I’m your host, Willa May, also known as DJ Warm Cookies, and it’s just me today. If this is your first time tuning in, I’m so glad you’re here, and if you’ve been rocking with us for a while, you already know how we do. We keep it laid-back, honest, and a little motivational, because that’s what music and creativity deserve. Now let me reintroduce myself for the folks just arriving. I’m Willa May, and I’ve been part of WDMN Media from the jump. You’ve probably heard ThinkTimm — that’s the producer, the creator, the brain and the heart of so much of this movement. He and I have been passing the mic back and forth for a while, but going forward you’re gonna hear me a lot more. Not because he’s gone anywhere, but because we’re shifting our focus. When we first started this podcast, the idea wasn’t just to talk — it was to establish WDMN Media as a real, functioning company. A full-on entity. And when I look at the checklist now, I can honestly say we did that. We built ourselves up as producers, as creators, and we did it without chasing empty streams. We said from day one it wasn’t about the numbers, and yet the numbers have been climbing anyway thanks to the If I Was Your Producer series. The point was always bigger — it was about how to move forward in a professional, sustainable way. So that’s where we are. The music’s flowing. The catalog is deep. And now, the next step is sync licensing — getting this music into TV, film, games, commercials. That’s the lane where independent artists can really win. And with the team at Code 3 helping us lock down our metadata, making sure all our splits and credits are right, and answering our business questions, we can step into that arena with confidence. That way, when an opportunity comes, we’re not scrambling. We’re ready. And ThinkTimm can do what he does best — stay in the lab, making music, creating opportunities, while I hold down this podcast and keep the conversation with y’all alive. It’s all about working smarter, not harder. We’re not trying to flood your timelines, not trying to beg for attention. We’re letting the music talk. Same goes for our other projects, like Lower Level Collections. We’ve got enough acquisitions, enough stories, enough collectibles in the vault to post without exhausting ourselves. So you’ll see more of that — pictures, narratives, little voiceovers about franchises and characters. Just smart content, steady content, not noise. And speaking of music talking — If I Was Your Producer, Vol. 3 is officially out now, streaming everywhere as of Friday, September 19th. Ten brand-new tracks, another complete volume, and we’re proud of it. But here’s the wild part: we’re not stopping. We’re already deep into Volume 17. Seventeen volumes. Ten tracks a piece. The presser reads… Ten new tracks. Ten new stories.
With Vol. 3, ThinkTimm levels up the monthly series with some of his sharpest writing and most experimental grooves yet. Funk, soul, spoken word, satire, and hip-hop collide inside a project that’s equal parts thought-provoking and ride-worthy. Tracklist & Highlights 1. Alive – A defiant opener, pulsing with urgency and celebration of resilience. 2. Confusion People – Social commentary wrapped in groove; calling out the chaos of modern life. 3. For The Family – Intimate and heartfelt; a dedication to roots, bloodlines, and building legacy. 4. Honest Smile Hustle – Autobiographical grind music, balancing joy and work ethic with funk-driven swagger. 5. Let Me See Your Hands – Anthemic call-and-response energy, built for live moments and audience connection. 6. My Town – Philly pride and storytelling; snapshots of neighborhood life turned universal. 7. Pop Star – Satirical, sharp, and fun; a jab at fame obsession with tongue-in-cheek swagger. 8. Saturday – Pure release; a weekend anthem with funk undertones and celebratory feel. 9. Soulmate – Romantic yet complex; blending intimacy with groove and reflective wordplay. 10. Treadmill (Don’t Call Me Crazy) – A closer that mixes humor, pressure, and raw truth about running in circles but never giving up. No samples. No shortcuts. Just all-original ThinkTimm, produced and released under WDMN MEDIA. Vol. 1 set the stage. Vol. 2 raised the bar. Vol. 3 breaks through. 🌐 Bandcamp: [insert link]
🎧 SoundCloud: [insert link]
📱 Follow: @ThinkTimm | @WDMNation | @WhyMakeMusic | @DJWarmCookies That’s the grind. Some people might say, “Why so much music? Aren’t you overdoing it?” But here’s the thing — the more songs you’ve got, the more doors you can open. I was reading an article from CTRL Camp that broke it down like math: if a supervisor is looking at fifteen songs for a placement, and you only have one in the mix, your odds are about six percent. But if you’ve got ten, twenty, thirty songs in the mix? Your chances multiply. So when people ask why we keep creating, that’s why. Every song is a new opportunity. And we’re not just throwing spaghetti at the wall — we’re delivering quality, full projects, fully tagged, registered, ready to go. And I’ll be real with you, music has always been the center for me, and for so many of us. I was writing a track recently and it made me think back to growing up before the internet, before cable, before social media. When there was nothing to do but listen to music. You’d put a tape in, let it run, rewind it, play it again, over and over until it was part of your DNA. Music wasn’t background, it was the main event. And those songs became memories, permanent fixtures in your mind. Even now, I’ll hear something from back then and I’m right back at a barbecue, or on a bus, or in my bedroom with the radio on. That’s the power of music. And I know the younger generations feel it too, even if it looks different. Gen Z spends more time listening to music than any other age group — that’s what Variety reported — about forty minutes more per day on average. They might be discovering songs on TikTok, through a trend or a meme, but once they find it, they stream it, they share it, they make it their own. Music is everywhere in their lives, just like it was for us — only now it’s attached to visuals, dances, challenges, stories. It’s reciprocal. The love of music flows back and forth across generations. Neuroscience studies even show older adults get an even bigger emotional boost from nostalgic songs, which is why when your mom or dad hears their favorite Motown track, their whole face lights up. Music is the connector, and that’s why we make it. Now let me switch gears for a second, because there’s been some heat in the entertainment world. You’ve probably heard about Jimmy Kimmel — his show on ABC got suspended indefinitely after some politically charged remarks, and suddenly it turned into this big First Amendment conversation. Reuters and other outlets reported that after he made comments about the assassination of conservative activist Charlie Kirk, an FCC commissioner criticized him and even suggested remedies might be on the table. Not long after, affiliates started dropping the show and ABC, which is owned by Disney, pulled it. Legally, the First Amendment protects you from government censorship, not from your employer. But when a government official applies pressure and then a private company acts, it blurs the line. And as creators, that’s something we think about. Disney owns Marvel, Star Wars, ESPN — massive pieces of the culture we love — and at the same time, they’re very protective of their image. So for us, it’s a reminder: be authentic, speak your truth, but pick your battles wisely. And speaking of Disney, let’s talk about something fun — Tron: Ares. The new Tron film is set to hit theaters October 10th, 2025, and the visuals look stunning. I still remember seeing the original Tron in theaters in ’82 — it blew my mind. The sequel, Tron: Legacy, gave us Daft Punk’s legendary soundtrack. Now here we are, with Jared Leto starring, Jeff Bridges returning, and Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross scoring the film. That alone has me hyped. The twist this time is a program entering the real world, flipping the script. The trailers show those iconic light cycles tearing through real cityscapes — it’s striking. So if you’re a sci-fi fan or just love a good visual spectacle, keep this one on your radar. On the TV side, I’ve been deep in binge mode. I finally caught up with every episode of Law & Order: SVU. All twenty-six seasons. And just in time, because Season 27 premieres Thursday, September 25th on NBC. Mariska Hargitay is back as Captain Benson, and word is we might even see Christopher Meloni pop up again as Stabler. That would be legendary. Now here’s my dilemma — do I watch week to week, old-school style, or do I let them pile up and binge later? I haven’t decided yet, but either way, I’m locked in. And if you’re more into the galaxy far, far away or superheroes, here’s the quick rundown as of now. Over on Disney+, The Acolyte dropped last year, ran June through July 2024, and the whole first season is up. Skeleton Crew premiered December 2024 and wrapped in January, so that’s there too. Of course, you’ve got The Mandalorian up through Season 3, Andor Season 1, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka, The Book of Boba Fett, The Bad Batch, Visions, all the animated classics like Clone Wars and Rebels. It’s all sitting there waiting. On the Marvel side, the big headline is Daredevil: Born Again. Season 1 premiered this past March, nine episodes, and it’s all up to stream. Disney’s already lined up Season 2 for March 2026. Add that to all the previous series — WandaVision, Loki, Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Hawkeye, Moon Knight, Ms. Marvel, She-Hulk, Echo, Agatha All Along — plus the specials like Werewolf by Night and Guardians Holiday Special. There is no shortage of content if you’re a binge-watcher. Now, before we wrap, I want to shine a spotlight on the WNBA. The playoffs this year have been electric. ESPN’s been covering it heavy, and for good reason. Minnesota Lynx handled the new Golden State Valkyries and moved on. The Aces and the Storm battled to a deciding Game 3, the Dream and Fever went the distance, and the Mercury and Liberty pushed their series to the brink. That’s parity. That’s competition. And it makes the league fun to watch. The semifinals start this weekend, and it’s anyone’s guess who’s gonna take it all. Here’s the bigger picture though — these women are incredible athletes, playing world-class basketball, and yet their paychecks don’t even come close to their NBA counterparts. We’re talking sixty grand up to maybe two hundred thousand a year, compared to multi-million dollar contracts for NBA players. The league just landed a huge TV deal, and players are pushing for their fair share, wearing shirts at the All-Star Game that said “Pay us what you owe us.” That’s powerful. And as fans, the best way we can support is by watching, by talking about the games, by giving these players the visibility they deserve. So shout out to A’ja Wilson, Breanna Stewart, Sabrina Ionescu, Napheesa Collier, Jewell Loyd — all the stars doing their thing. I’ll keep watching, and I hope you do too. So, let’s bring this home. Today we talked about where WDMNation is headed, the new music out right now, the grind toward sync licensing, the nostalgia of growing up with music, the Jimmy Kimmel situation, the new Tron film, the latest on SVU, the mountain of Star Wars and Marvel shows, and the WNBA playoffs. That’s a full plate, but that’s what this podcast is — a reflection of everything we’re passionate about. Thank you for listening, thank you for supporting, and thank you for believing in this vision. You can find us everywhere — SoundCloud, Bandcamp, Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, BlueSky, Patreon, all streaming platforms. And don’t forget our merch on TeePublic and Thread=less for both ThinkTimm and WDMN designs. Every stream, every like, every share, every purchase — it all matters. I’m Willa May, DJ Warm Cookies, signing off. Remember: work smarter, not harder, keep creating, keep pushing, and never forget why you make music. Much love, and I’ll catch you next time. ⸻ Here’s how I hear IF I WAS YOUR PRODUCER VOL. 3 —from inside the room where it was made. I don’t chase trends; I chase signals. When the right ones align—family, faith, funk, and a little bit of mischief—you get Vol. 3. It’s a circle of ten ideas that fold into one statement: WDMNation MEDIA is a house—enter through any door, you’ll feel the same heat. The Review (ThinkTimm, quietly, like a switchblade) 1) Alive I wrote “Alive” like a pulse test. Love is the defibrillator—touch, hand, heart, mind, body—click, we’re back. Those repetitions (“I’m alive… I’m alive…”) aren’t filler; they’re CPR. Production is open-sky—air moving through the drums, bass like a steady breath. If you’ve ever been revived by the right person at the wrong time, you already know the hook. 2) Confusion People This one’s my social mirror: we’re all certain, loudly… and wrong, quietly. The chant (“Confusion people, we’ll never lose… we’re always confused”) isn’t defeatist—it’s a diagnosis. I bend the groove playful so the medicine goes down, then spell the word like a schoolyard game (“C-O-N-fusion”) to remind you chaos gets taught, repeated, inherited. Storm music with an umbrella melody. 3) For The Family W.D.M.N. at the top because the roof is lineage. It starts like a “demo” on purpose—the thesis is utility over polish; function as flex. The hook (“This is for my family”) is both promise and payroll. I let the verse slip into party talk then swerve to legacy—because in my city, celebration and responsibility dance back-to-back. If you know, you nod. 4) Honest Hustle Smile (New Mix) Autobiography over armor. The verses carry receipts—years deferred, craft accrued, children crowned. I wrote the bassline to grin through grit; that hook (“I’m honest / I love your smile / your hustle…”) is a pep talk I give the mirror and the house. Prince would say: sexy is conviction, and the arrangement stays convicted—stacked hooks, long runway, no apology. 5) Let Me See Your Hands Call-and-response, but not just for the club—this is inventory of allegiance. The verses are knife-bright (“one touch of the blade, you gone”) because joy isn’t naïve here; it’s guarded. Drums are march-adjacent, like the floor could tilt into parade at any time. When I ask for your hands, I’m not begging for applause—I’m checking your temperature. 6) My Town (Party With Me) A postcard with fingerprints on it. Philly coded in side-eyes and punchlines. The chorus is the open invite; the verses slip you into the back room where the stories breath. I built the beat to feel like streetlights—warm, distant, constant. Nostalgia, yes, but calibrated—no rose tint, just lived tint. 7) Pop Star Satire you can dance to. The “private flights / fancy cars” flex is theater; the real flex is admitting the love of making and the math of making it. The bridge floats in that “worldwide class elevation” pocket—weightless melody over grounded drums—because fame is helium and work is gravity. I keep saying Damnation like a stamp, not a curse—brand as cosmology. 8) Saturday Joy study. I keep the language plain on purpose—“Saturday is my fun day”—because some truths don’t need metaphors. Pocket is shoulder-loose; it swings like open windows. There’s mischief in the ad-libs because release requires permission, and the song grants it. If you hear this in the afternoon and don’t text somebody, you don’t like yourself enough. 9) Soulmate Church with no building. I wrote it so the choir is one person. Verses walk the aisle—tithes of time, black sand on feet, Wi-Fi as faith signal. The bridge calling her “Holy Ghost” is not blasphemy; it’s geometry—love as right angle to chaos.The production leaves negative space so the lyric can breathe; that’s where the devotion lives. 10) Treadmill (Don’t Call Me Crazy) Dark comedy with bright lights. Obsession framed like a pop hook so you don’t see the cuffs at first. The “thousand miles” refrain is the joke and the wound: motion without migration. I let the chords smirk while the story misbehaves. By the arrest in the bridge, the character’s confession is melody—catchy, incriminating, human. The Spine of Vol. 3 * Devotion (Alive, Soulmate) * Diagnosis (Confusion People, Treadmill) * Duty (For The Family, Honest Hustle Smile) * Public Joy (Saturday, Let Me See Your Hands) * Place & Persona (My Town, Pop Star) I don’t separate poetry from production. The kick pattern tells truth, the bassline carries subtext, the hook negotiates with memory. If you feel the songs before you parse them, that’s design. WDMNation MEDIA isn’t a logo; it’s my operating system. Vol. 3 runs smoother, hits harder, laughs darker, loves louder. And if you ask me what it “means,” I’ll say this: It means we’re building a home where rhythm is honest, language is precise, and love is loud enough to resurrect you.
It means the family eats first.
It means the door stays open, but the hinges are steel. Press play. Bring your hands. Leave with your spirit heavier and your feet lighter. That’s Vol. 3. Alright… Willa May said it beautifully, like she always does. I told myself I was done speaking on IF I WAS YOUR PRODUCER Vol. 3—but these songs keep tapping my shoulder like old friends at a bus stop. So let me say this and get out your way. I grew up carrying three things everywhere: music, a drawing pad, and a notebook. That was my first studio bag. SEPTA was my first tour bus. The trolley bell was a metronome—ding ding—and the city would count me in. I’d ride out just to ride, sketch faces in motion, write bars between stops, let the beat of the tracks line up with whatever my heart was trying to confess. If you ever found your voice at the back of public transit, you already know the feeling that stitched this volume together. I still go on walkabouts—now with Uncle E (you knew him as Eric Smith back then). We loop the block because the block loops us. And I still hear Jamal, twenty-some years gone and somehow right here, talk-laughing from a stoop that no longer exists, quoting punchlines nobody else remembers. Grief grows quieter, but it never goes away; it just harmonizes. If you listen close on Alive and Soulmate, he’s singing the third part. And then there’s Rick—Casanova to some of you. My first bootleg kung fu teacher. Elbows tucked, wrists turned, chin down, step in on the two-and. He gave me a stance and a syllabus: Prince, poetry, how to speak to women with respect and rhythm. He taught me the math of cool wasn’t costume—it was cadence. That schooling still lives in the way Pop Star grins at fame while side-eying it, and the way Honest Hustle Smile holds its head high without asking permission. I grew up on a block full of personalities. Future comedians, unlicensed philosophers, DJs without parties, quiet geniuses, loud geniuses, and a corner store that knew your order before you did. That block was a university, a dojo, a church, and a label deal all in one. I wouldn’t trade an hour of it. Those days are preserved like film in “Director Director”; that transit heartbeat keeps rolling in “Trolley Cars”; and the legend of a certain bell-bottom myth walks through “Casanova.” The past isn’t a place to live, but it is a power source. I plug in often. So Vol. 3—here’s what you’re really hearing: * Alive is resurrection by touch. * Confusion People is diagnosis with a smile. * For the Family is a vow signed in hook ink. * Honest Hustle Smile is receipts and joy stitched together. * Let Me See Your Hands is roll call—prove you’re here. * My Town is a postcard with fingerprints. * Pop Star is helium over gravity. * Saturday is permission to breathe. * Soulmate is a liturgy you can dance to. * Treadmill is the caution tape on a catchy carousel. I don’t make records to chase the room. I tune the room until it tells the truth. If the kick feels like footsteps and the bassline feels like the line on the map, that’s because I still write like a kid on a seat by the window—counting poles, catching light, saving everything that hurts or heals and turning it into something we can all carry. Thank you for listening—still. For bringing your stories into these ones and letting them sit together without arguing. WDMNation MEDIA isn’t just music to me; it’s memory, movement, and mirror. If you catch a glimpse of yourself in here, that’s by design. If it makes you call somebody you miss, that’s the hook doing holy work. Shout-outs before I slide: * W.D.M.N. MEDIA — the umbrella and the weather. * DJ Warm Cookies / Willa May — pilot of this week’s flight. * Why Make Music… — the question, the answer, the archive. * Lower Level Creations — the basement museum that never sleeps. * Family—in the house and in the headphones. You’re the label. Connect with us: @ThinkTimm @WDMNation @WhyMakeMusic @DJWarmCookies
Everything lives at ThinkTimm.com. Add Vol. 3 to your library, pass it on, let it breathe. I appreciate your ears, your time, your patience with my obsessions. I’ll see you in the next chapter. Until then: Peace… and be wild.