Creativity Quote by Eberhard Weber

Seven years is long enough for an album to stop being a project and start becoming a referendum on your identity. Weber frames the new record not as a victory lap but as a risk: “always some doubts,” “you wonder whether you succeeded,” “you’re never really sure.” The repetition isn’t just modesty; it’s a musician admitting that craft doesn’t cancel uncertainty. If anything, time amplifies it. The longer you wait, the more the work has to justify the silence.

The sly power of his wording is that he refuses the heroic narrative fans often impose on overdue releases. No talk of “masterpieces,” no mythology about inspiration striking at dawn. Instead, he uses the almost disarmingly plain metric of “a nice record.” That understatement is doing heavy lifting. It signals taste over hype, and it quietly rejects the contemporary demand that every comeback be an “event.” In an era that treats art like content and schedules creativity like a product drop, Weber’s anxiety reads as integrity: he wants the album to hold up as music, not as branding.

Subtextually, he’s naming the gap between internal intention and external reception. “Succeeded” implies a private standard, but “nice” hints at the listener’s experience, the social life of the record once it leaves his hands. For a jazz musician whose work lives in nuance, that uncertainty is honest: you can’t A/B test feeling. Waiting seven years doesn’t guarantee depth; it just raises the stakes on whether anyone will hear what you meant.