Jeremiah 29:11 by Chevon Corlew-Coleman and Jeremiah 29:11
This project takes me back to 2011, long before Vivid Tempo Studio became what it is now.
At the time, we were not assembling musicians for a one-time recording. We were already a local gospel group performing throughout the region. Chevon Corlew-Coleman was writing and leading the songs, Jeremiah was the vocal group, and 29:11 was the band. Together, we were known as Jeremiah 29:11, named after Chevon’s favorite scripture.
This was our first major studio project and the first full body of music we had created together. Before this, I had mostly been producing from my home setup. Recording the album at Mark Coleman’s studio in Navarre was also my first real experience working inside a professional studio, seeing the equipment, and learning how a larger recording session moved.
But we did not walk into the studio still trying to figure out the songs.
We had already spent week after week rehearsing them as a group. We had sung many of them at churches, concerts, and engagements around the area. By the time we recorded, the arrangements had already lived with us for a while.
That preparation became a big part of the sound.
Recording the Project as a Group
We recorded the project at Mark Coleman’s studio in Navarre using Pro Tools.
We were working from a studio package with a set block of time for recording, mixing, and mastering. We did not have days to experiment with arrangements or spend hours editing every performance afterward. When our time was up, extending the session meant spending more money.
That made preparation especially important.
We had already rehearsed these songs week after week as a working group. The band knew the arrangements, the singers knew their parts, and the songs had already been tested at churches, concerts, and other engagements around the region.
We recorded most of the music first with live drums, bass, keys, and guitars. The vocalists returned the next day to record their parts, and Chevon came in afterward to record the lead vocals.
There were punch-ins and corrections. I also went back and added a few musical elements when a song needed something else, such as another organ part. But we had to make those decisions quickly and keep moving.
It was not that editing tools were unavailable. We simply did not have the budget or studio time to depend on extensive post-production.
That experience taught me something I still try to pass on to artists today: the studio will expose how prepared you are.
Listening to the song a few times in the car is not preparation. Running through it on the way to the session is not preparation either. The studio microphones, headphones, engineer, and clock will make every uncertain lyric, unfinished harmony, and unresolved arrangement obvious.
And while everyone is trying to figure it out, the clock is still running.
Preparation allowed us to get a lot accomplished with the time we had. We were not walking into the room hoping the studio would show us how the songs should go. Most of the real production work had already happened during rehearsals.
That is why the performances still feel connected even though the project did not receive the kind of detailed editing and post-production that I would normally give a record today. The musicians and singers already knew how to move through the songs together.
I would also revise the later reflection to this:
When I listen back now, I hear things I would edit, mix, or produce differently. But I also hear the benefit of a group that came into the studio prepared.
The record was not raw because we lacked modern tools. It was raw because we had limited time, made quick decisions, and relied heavily on the work we had already done before the session.
That is an important distinction.
Technology can correct timing, pitch, and performance problems, but it should not become the plan for surviving an unprepared session. The more prepared an artist or band is before recording, the more studio time can be spent capturing something meaningful instead of trying to discover the song while the engineer watches the clock.
Songs That Stayed With Us
Several songs from this project became part of the musical history of the group and continued to show up long after the album was completed.
“This Heart Is Yours” was one of the strongest songs on the project. It carried a lot of weight whenever we performed it, and it is still sung occasionally today. We recently brought it back for another concert, which says something about how well the song has held up over the years.
“Comfort Me” also became one of the more familiar songs from the album.
“Psalm 23” went in the opposite direction musically. It was a simple, comforting ballad built mostly around piano and vocals. Years later, we returned to the song for the Christmas at the Henry’s soundtrack and rebuilt it with a fuller string orchestration. The new arrangement was very different, but the original version still has something special because of how exposed and honest it is.
“Unworthy Exchange” was one of the deeper songs we performed around the region. It deals with Christ taking the death we deserved and giving us His life in exchange. Whenever we sang it at an engagement, the response was usually strong. It was one of those songs where you could feel the room change as the message settled in.
“What God Allows” carried a traditional gospel flavor and also became one of the songs that stayed connected to the group over time.
Then there was “God Alone,” which won a songwriting contest connected with Tyscot Music & Entertainment. That was an important moment for us because it affirmed what we already knew about Chevon’s writing.
She has always written songs with depth. Her lyrics do not simply repeat a theme. They usually take you somewhere. There is a story, a spiritual tension, or a thought that continues unfolding as the song moves.
That shaped the way we arranged the music. The production had to follow the meaning of the lyric rather than sit underneath it as a generic gospel track.
This album was our first major attempt to capture all of that in a studio.
When I hear it now, I notice things I would produce differently. That is natural after this many years. But I also hear something I would not want to replace with a cleaner version.
I hear a working gospel group that had spent time rehearsing together. I hear musicians responding to one another in the room. I hear strong songs being carried by people who had already sung them enough to understand them.
There was not a lot of correcting afterward because most of the real production had already happened before we entered the studio.
It happened in rehearsals. It happened at engagements. It happened while we were working through arrangements week after week and learning how to move together as one group.
That is probably the most important thing this project still reminds me of. Technology can help complete a record, but it cannot replace preparation, chemistry, good writing, and people who believe what they are singing.