Returning to the Studio After 40 Years: My Continuum

About a year ago, in January 2025, I flew to Los Angeles to walk into a recording studio with my producer, songwriter, and recording artist Lance Jyo, along with LA engineer Raul Ferrando. It was my first time recording in over 40 years. To say I was nervous and anxious would be an understatement. If you’re a singer—or a musician who sings—you already know why.

I hadn’t sung professionally or informally in four decades. The human voice is a muscle, and like any muscle, it atrophies with age and lack of use. Even singers who continue performing find it harder to sing the way they did in their 20s and 30s. Now imagine not using your vocal cords at all for 40 years and then trying to sing like you once did. That thought alone fueled my insecurities leading up to that first session. My range felt gone. Vocal gymnastics that once came naturally to me were no longer available. For the first time in my life, I truly struggled to sing.

Kevin I. and Lance Jyo

Before even considering this journey, I did my medical due diligence. A visit to my ENT specialist confirmed that my vocal cords were clean—no polyps, no damage—just thinner from age and non-use. I asked him what that meant. He explained that the keys and octaves I once had in my prime—when I sang with a 3.5-octave range as a baritenor (a voice with baritone weight and color but extended low tenor range)—would likely be lower now. How much lower depended entirely on my willingness to relearn how to sing and start vocalizing again.

Thankfully, in my younger years I was well trained, having studied with top vocal professionals in Hawaii and Japan. As I began practicing again, things I learned in my teens and twenties slowly started to resurface. Or as Céline Dion famously sang, “It’s all coming back to me now.” To my surprise, some muscle memory kicked in—even after decades of non-use. Hearing my voice improve brought tears to my eyes, along with memories of being a young, hopeful singer dreaming of becoming a professional.

Fast forward to those first recording sessions in January 2025 for what would become my bucket-list, full-circle project, My Continuum. I took a deep breath, stepped up to the mic, and faced my fears head-on. Thankfully, after just a few passes, something clicked—and Kevin I. was back.

Kevin I., the artist, had quietly disappeared when I entered the corporate world and eventually rose to senior executive leadership. Standing there in the studio felt like a moment frozen in time. I was no longer the insecure, naive young man chasing a dream, but a seasoned adult who had lived a full life—highs, lows, losses, regrets, disappointments, and pure joy. I had returned to my creative happy place, surrounded by the full support of Lance and his incredible team. I was in great hands. All I had to do was sing.

My happy place — the recording studio.

Today, when people share feedback about My Continuum and say things like, “You sound the same as you did back then,” or “You sound even better,” or “Your voice is still smooth, just more experienced,” it validates every sacrifice and every ounce of work it took to come back. This time, though, it’s not about fame, money, or making a living. It’s about the pure joy of creating music that people can connect with and love. It’s about giving people music they can use as part of their soundtrack for their lives.

It’s about giving fans, followers, and listeners music from the perspective of an older, more grounded man who is still living, learning, and growing—on his own terms. That, for me, is a true full-circle moment. Thank you for sticking with me and taking this journey together. It truly means the world to me.

Lastly, I want to thank God. I know many people say this, but in my case it’s deeply personal and real. I am here today through His grace and inspiration. I prayed that if I was meant to reactivate this part of my life, that He would show me the way, open the doors, and most importantly, give me back the gift of singing that He gave me as a teenager—a gift that faded through lack of use. Today, I have direction, conviction, and courage because He answered that prayer. He gave me back my voice. And that validation is all I need to keep moving forward.