I'm tentatively attempting to start writing songs. I figured it was about time I got my hands dirty instead of just watching and cheering and whooping at the mudwrestling from the stands for so long. Of course I have a lot of the lyrics already penned, and I also have enough musical knowledge to know what sounds good and how to make it so, but as soon as I sit down to the piano I just see an endless highway of black and white keys stretching before me and I know full well how to make them make noise that sounds good, but only up to Tinkle Standards, not Proper Music Standards worthy for other ears. Then I try to sing pathetic melodies and thank god that I only do this when I'm home alone.
Why is it that I hear so many songs by artists I adore that are just one instrument, a voice that isn't even anything special, and lyrics that look dead when you read them on a page but are alive in your ears, and I think they are brilliant and worthy and something I aspire to?? And I also think- wow, I could do that!! Then when I try using my un-special voice and my dead words and my highway instrument they just mush together like a terrible dish using far too uncomplementary ingredients and the high chef tells you to get out the kitchen cos you shouldn't cook for starving children let alone people who are expecting something halfway decent, how dare you think you could succeed in this profession. And then my song which isn't even in the 2nd trimester of development yet but was shaping up to be something acceptable with ten fingers ten toes, falls flat on the floor and is aborted by the sheer force of Fear of Failure. Goodbye, we'll never see you again, little individual.
I think it comes from not being able to play enough instruments. I should be able to play percussion strings brass el-ec-tric woodwind and glockenschpiel all by myself and all at once, then I could write epic monumental pieces of lyrical and notational genuis and everyone will love me because I am oh-so-talented and have such a unique sound. I will be on the other side of the fence, on top of the world, under the influence, around the bend and inside the eye.
I think Hugh is my brain father.
