I wanted to go on a rant
About all the frustrations I felt trying to wrap up this project.
After a week, I erased that page of grievances because I realized it doesn’t matter now.
We’ve crossed the finish line. The torment and turmoil have long passed.
The rest of the world will only care about the 5 and a half minutes presented to them.
The countless hours and effort needed to reach this point only apply me and my fond memories of sleep deprivation and insanity, from which tough lessons were learned.
Lessons like why you (pointing at the guy in the mirror) didn’t get how good music is made.
Perfectionism, the Perfect Waste of Time
Picture yourself:
Standing tall, heroic even, on top of the awards stage, able to exemplify the pinnacle of creativity, nothing less, while everyone else settled for mediocrity. How awe-inspiring it is to have the ambition and ability to achieve something so amazing, so pristine. Think of the accolades, the applause.
Or
is it a cause for alarm, a symptom of narcissistic pride from wanting to be immortalized in history, to appear better than your peers? Does it simply point to a burning competitive nature, or could it actually reveal a façade for fear and anxiety of being viewed as less than said mediocrity, as a failure, or worse and God-forbid, as a normal human being?
Deep down you already know too well the insecurity of not wanting to be criticized for the tiniest, little, imperceptible mistakes probably only visible to you. That fantasy of perfection is more like a safe space, keeping you in the comfort of endless correction, away from letting your work go, spread its wings, and be judged. Just so you know, while you’ve been ruminating, several months just flew by.
Yeah, in reality, perfectionism sucks. You might think it’s commendable to have unrealistic expectations, but it’s not. It’s the most crippling thing ever, and it’s not just bad in how it makes you feel, but it’s also horrible for the world
because you’re robbing them of experiencing and enjoying what you’ve been working on.
The pursuit of such an unattainable ideal is a culprit of sabotage. In fact, you’ve been sitting on original music just because I didn’t want to commit to mess ups on the actual recording process. But then a year went by, then 2, then 3, then 4. Digital piles of demos and lyrics that could become something great accumulated only to be neglected.
So, stop!
No one but you will worry about the slightly cooler option for your witty double entendre, the miniscule tweak of your guitar knob, or the minor nuance of a syllable you’re trying to nail on the 1000th try even though the 3rd take was already pretty close.
Those insufficiencies and mistakes could turn out to be happy accidents that make the piece more relatable. Fix it too much, and it might sound too robotic and technical, too intentional and less natural.
Don’t mess up something good by overcooking it.
Don’t burn the steak! Get it to medium-rare and let it rest.
A Poser’s Perspective
Often, you pick up the pen and pad thinking, “Let’s write about *insert subject matter here*.” or “Let’s create a song like *insert famous song here*.”
In fact, a lot of people you work with seem to fall into this pattern. Every time, you all fall short on authenticity and poignancy. It inevitably feels fake and forced, and the song suffers.
Tackling creativity this way immediately places you at an outside observer’s point of view. You’re guilty of detaching from the subject matter, thinking from a third-person’s perspective, trying to describe and explain what’s happening.
“This happened.”
“I was this.”
“This is how I felt.”
That’s boring, like authoring a history book, focused on getting the specifics right, focused on ticking off a checklist.
The lyrics are too matter of fact.
You lose the essence of what makes art powerful.
Picture the listener, wrapped in headphones, ready to close their eyes and escape into a different world, guided by music, but the writing feels… uncertain?
You forgot or failed to put the listener into the shoes of the main character.
Transport them to the actual event, the source of the inspiration. Write the song as if you’re right there, right now, reacting to the story as it’s happening. What are you thinking or saying in that exact moment?
When something pisses you off, you don’t go, “I felt a lot of anger and it seemed like everything was red. I think that symbolized aggression?” Save that observational diction for your diary. What you’re trying to do here is relive the event. Take yourself there. What would you say? What DID you say?
You probably said something simple and raw along the lines of “WHAT THE F***!”
This is storytelling 101. I believe this ability to discern the right choice of words, is the brush that separates good from bad, great from good. Art isn’t math, it isn’t logic. It’s an expression, a study even, of the human experience. You have to remember that.
Learn to be fully present.
Things just happen. You can never force them to, inspiration especially. Inspiration comes naturally, where you feel unmistakably compelled to create. At that point, everything flows, and you’re just in for the ride.
If you find yourself lacking those lightbulb moments, then maybe…
You’re Just Not Living
You find yourself writing about the same things over and over again,
using the same techniques, the same metaphors, the same punchlines,
turning to the same flow, the same chords, the same sounds.
You worry too much about getting a big hit as soon as possible,
But if your songs never resonated with people in the first place, then 100 similar versions never will.
It’s impossible to write about something you’ve never experienced. I mean, it’s impossible to write it well. Listeners will immediately pick out the pretentiousness of your writing. From the slightly off usage of superlatives or lack of imagery, they’ll know you don’t know jack.
Stop pretending. Seriously, stop pretending. Your art will suffer because you don’t have a single clue what the hell you’re talking about.
If you don’t have a wide palette to paint from, don’t think you can paint something grand just yet.
If you’re dying to portray a certain character, feeling, or event, go do some infield research first. When you’re there, surviving whatever the hell it is you wanted to do, take note of all the emotions your soul is experiencing. There’s going to be a lot.
For instance, to write about the popular subject of love, you’ll need to experience the full spectrum, from the first spark to the lasting warmth. From the world-shattering heartbreak to the brightest bliss of mutual affection. From the shared pains of unforeseen struggles to the exclusive joys of private memories.
Gather the materials, but don’t rush it. Let the memories sift and sort themselves into puzzle pieces that you can eventually fit together to finally create something new.
Life is complex, it might interest you to figure out why.
Then maybe, you will finally know how to portray it accurately.
Art & Entertainment
To loosely quote a video:
Entertainment is creating in a direction that flows towards the consumer. Art is creating in a direction that flows towards the work itself.
Personally, I believe the legendary pieces fit somewhere in the middle.
How many times have we come across stuff that’s fun today, but forgotten by tomorrow? How many times have we come across stuff that’s way too pompous and gives off a “you’re not cultured enough to understand it” vibe?
The intersection, where you acknowledge people might not see the world like you do and where you simplify your thoughts in a way they can understand, is where the secret lies.
You meet them in the middle so that they can enjoy the work while also learning something new. That’s tough to do. It’s what the best teachers do. They meet their students at eye level with the intention to leave them as better people.
Don’t stick to an extreme. Teeter back and forth, with purpose, not because you want to be so badly accepted or recognized for your virtuosity, but because you want to
Make people think, feel, have fun, and appreciate life.
