The story
Some things begin because you want to make something. Others begin because something inside you refuses to stay silent.
For most of his life, William White built things. He worked, he solved problems, he thought a great deal and said less than he carried.
The writing came back first. Pages, then lines that kept their shape when he read them aloud. Then the lines wanted a sound.
The tools to give them one finally existed. Not to replace the writing, but to let him finish it: to direct a song from the first word to the final master.
Same Direction began as a piece of writing. It is the first of those songs to leave the room.
