The file was called Midnight Drive.
Ten minutes later, I had headlights, empty roads, neon signs, and a rear-view mirror in the lyrics.
I didn't notice the pattern at first. I thought I was developing the idea.
Then I realized I was mostly following the title.
This happened while I was sketching out a song with YuE2. The music was still taking shape, but I'd already given it a name that was quietly deciding where everything should go.
So I removed it.
The file became Untitled 04.
On the next listen, the song felt different—not because the music had changed, but because I wasn't trying to make it sound like a night drive anymore.
The verse felt tense rather than lonely. The chorus was warmer than I'd noticed. The rhythm didn't really feel like driving at all.
Then I went back to the lyrics.
The neon sign felt forced.
So did the rear-view mirror.
I deleted both.
For a while, I left the project alone.
When I opened it again, Untitled 04 was still sitting at the top of the file. It looked boring, but it wasn't pushing me toward another road, another streetlight, or another midnight metaphor.
That was useful.
Now, if a title appears early, I write it down and keep working. Sometimes it stays. Sometimes the song moves somewhere else.
I don't need to decide immediately.
Anything I plan to publish still gets a separate check for rights, permissions, references, voices, and the final output.
For this one, I'm still not sure what the final title should be.
That's fine.
Untitled 04 can stay a little longer.