So, it's only fair to provide a little information about me.
Especially when you notice that the only piece of information I've filled in in my profile is that I'm from the UK...

That's deliberate. Code Zero is a name I was given by some friends who produce drum'n'bass, and it was originally specifically my DJ name whilst playing breaks/drum'n'bass.

There's another CodeZero out there, who's into piercings and heavy metal; he has, it seems, beaten me to all the best email addresses, but I've beaten him to the blog...
But only _one_ other CodeZero... so for a name someone came up with in a split second, it's pretty good going.

There's a small history behind the construction of the name, but that's boring, so you get spared the detail. Also, it's been adopted as my production name for, it seems, everything I work on now.

I have a dayjob, which is musical, but predominantly technical. In evenings and on the weekend, I can be found either in the studio or out clubbing. Sometimes I DJ too; I used to play out quite a lot under other names, but I've squashed that so I can spend more time in the studio.
In the studio, I'm either an engineer or a producer. This seems to depend more on the day of the week than who I'm working with or what studio I'm in. But I'm happy doing either.

Making contemporary music is a very creative process; there's a world of people out there who genuinely believe that you can make a dance track by pressing and holding a key on a keyboard. Truthfully, it is too much to expect the general population to have an understanding of the music making process. I've yet to hear anyone who can (without an engineer) make something that actually sounds like a dance record who has less than five years experience. There's a lot of knowledge that's required.

Engineering is something I know about; it's close enough to my dayjob to touch (historically, what I do for a living used to be called engineering). There is a lot of equipment used in making music; whether that's all software or hardware, there is a lot to know. Knowing how to use it all takes time, practice and experience. The more you learn, the more you realise that it's all about listening. I imagine that's true for a lot of creative things; being critical of your composition is a key thing; if you're painting, I imagine that a critical eye is that key ingredient to finishing the work. If you're writing, re-reading your text, to see where you've diverged from your intended expressions is the only way to tighten the material.

Obviously, I've been producing for as long as I've been engineering; noone really starts out as an engineer without having played with making music first. There'd be no common sense to guide yourself with. Recently I'm becoming more serious about production (because I'm having to be), and I realise that it's identical to engineering; but instead of equipment, your tools are your influences. Your critical ear guides you.

I've heard well respected producers tell me that they don't conform to anything, and they make their own sound. That disappoints me; I like the idea that all producers are conscious of what they're doing, and are self-aware of their creative process. Art is like energy; it can't be created or destroyed, only transmuted. No-one can tell me that they're not conforming when they programme a 4-to-the-floor house track. Certainly, I'm sure they're being true to their chosen form of expression, and not succumbing to anyone else's preferences. But it's plain naive to claim that you're not conforming when you explicitly choose to express yourself within a recognisable medium.

Perhaps I should live in the world of Techno, where being pseudo-philosophical about what you're doing is de-rigeur.

I believe that there's no such thing as creation, only reinterpretation. If I were to try and convince you that when I wrote a tune, I was using melodic and rhythmic arrangements that you'd never hear anywhere else, then unless I was composing some experimental atonal minimalism, wrapped around distortions of noise, you'd know I was talking nonsense.

I've been fortunate in my life to meet and know some very wise people. Even more so, I've been fortunate in that they've tolerated my immaturity for the duration of knowing them.
One such wise friend was hitting home today, discussing the life-cycle of a genre.
He was observing that genres develop through the import of influences from other genres.
Fundamentally, a genre comes to exist through a collection of like-minded people sharing a preferences for a set of rules and influences. Often through some technological innovation, this fusion of ideas, through new studio techniques, takes on a sound of its own, unheard of before.
It is, of course, fundamental that there's a set of influences that underpins a genre.
The development of a genre in its first phase tends to involve pulling those influences into full light through the reinterpretative process of the genre.
This is just part of establishing the genre.

Sucessful genres seem to pull in more and more influences; widening the influence base. Yes; this dilutes the genre, in a sense, but in another, it strengthens it by broadening it.
I intend to strengthen my preferred genres.
As a producer, it's my duty.

So, really, production is about absorbing a lot of music from other genres, and introducing it to your own.

Here ends today's rambling.