am i phobic?
October 8, 2007 8:06 PM Subscribe
I am afraid to make music.
I am a pretty normal person. Female, early 30s, single and self-supporting, pretty healthy mentally and physically. I've had bouts of depression in the past but since I was diagnosed with and treated for ADD a lot has changed and I have never felt better. But generally speaking I'm doing pretty damn well. I don't like things involving public speaking or job interviews but it doesn't completely rattle me and I get by. I'm a creative, expressive person. I write. I'm independent but not socially anxious. I'm an introvert but not particularly shy. I sometimes talk to strangers.
I love music. Listening to music is, for me, an extremely visceral experience. I don't know if I can even wrap words around my relationship with it. The music I love is all inextricably linked to the forces and feelings that shaped my life when I first heard it or when it became a friend to me.
Almost everyone I know is involved in independent music making in some way. I know some very, very brilliant musicians, many of whom have gone on to indie-level success, some of whom are making a living at it, some of whom have gone on to mainstream success. I know at least one person I sincerely believe to be genius. I admire these people deeply. I want to do what they do. It's been my deep desire for as long as I can recall.
But me, I do not make music. Sure, I have tried. I have ideas and melodies all the time. It's a constant factor in my life, thinking about music. I even play some instruments, sort of: I took keyboard lessons as a kid for a couple of years, I took about 6 months of guitar lessons when I was 30, and I recently took a few drum lessons and bought my own kit. I've picked out a couple of little melodies and recorded them at home, but not only can I not complete a song, but I scrap it before it's even a song. Nothing I have created has been worthwhile. And it's the music -- I have no problem with words (as this post will likely demonstrate) but the music... the process of creating music is so, so loaded and so inexplicably difficult.
In recent years I've begun to wonder why I have dated many musicians (almost all, actually). I came to the conclusion that maybe I just want to do what they do, and I mistake that envy and admiration for compatibility. The point is, everyone in my life seems to make music except me, and I feel like I want to even more than most of them.
When I bought my drums recently I rented out a timeslot in a practice space that acquaintances share and plunked them in there. I've had two turns in there and I can not make a sound. Tonight I went there and for three hours tinkered with my kit and setup just to occupy myself and feel like I was doing something. Because there were other people playing in the same building in a different room, and it paralyzed me to think of anyone anyone anyone hearing me. It just sounds so rough and unrhythmic that I can not bear to be heard. I couldn't play or even do little sticking exercises. I couldn't make a sound.
You may wonder how I ended up taking lessons. Well, the reason I quit my guitar lessons a few years ago was because I was so incredibly nervous that I could learn things alone during the week and be incapable of playing them in front of my teacher. I would go home and cry. It was too painful for me. I lucked out with my drum teacher -- he made me comfortable enough to accomplish things, but he lived in another city and I've moved since then.
Pretty much the only thing I don't mind performing in front of others is singing -- I really love to sing and I don't mind being heard at that. But with my guitars, I will play only if I know my neighbours are out, or I play my electric guitar without plugging it in, so it's quiet.
Am I phobic? Why does it hurt so much when I try to make things? As a reasonably balanced and well-adjusted person, how can I possibly be so self-conscious about this one very specific activity that I'm completely paralyzed? I just want to go to my practice space, sit down and play along to a song or mess around trying to get things down pat, but I can only sit there without lifting my arms and wishing I knew why.
I tried looking up music phobias online, but all I can find are music therapy programs for mental illness -- bitterly ironic that my problem is their treatment. Are there doctors who specialize in this not-stage-fright not-social-anxiety inability to make music? (This seems a little unlikely.) I've done a course of CBT before and I feel like this thing defeats all cognitive tools I have. I can think my way out of it, but I can not make my body act.
And this all might sound completely insane but it truly, truly breaks my heart. It almost physically hurts when I think about it. I want to do this so badly; what is wrong with me? I sat on my drum stool tonight teary-eyed because I hate that I have this problem so much. Why, why, why?
I am a pretty normal person. Female, early 30s, single and self-supporting, pretty healthy mentally and physically. I've had bouts of depression in the past but since I was diagnosed with and treated for ADD a lot has changed and I have never felt better. But generally speaking I'm doing pretty damn well. I don't like things involving public speaking or job interviews but it doesn't completely rattle me and I get by. I'm a creative, expressive person. I write. I'm independent but not socially anxious. I'm an introvert but not particularly shy. I sometimes talk to strangers.
I love music. Listening to music is, for me, an extremely visceral experience. I don't know if I can even wrap words around my relationship with it. The music I love is all inextricably linked to the forces and feelings that shaped my life when I first heard it or when it became a friend to me.
Almost everyone I know is involved in independent music making in some way. I know some very, very brilliant musicians, many of whom have gone on to indie-level success, some of whom are making a living at it, some of whom have gone on to mainstream success. I know at least one person I sincerely believe to be genius. I admire these people deeply. I want to do what they do. It's been my deep desire for as long as I can recall.
But me, I do not make music. Sure, I have tried. I have ideas and melodies all the time. It's a constant factor in my life, thinking about music. I even play some instruments, sort of: I took keyboard lessons as a kid for a couple of years, I took about 6 months of guitar lessons when I was 30, and I recently took a few drum lessons and bought my own kit. I've picked out a couple of little melodies and recorded them at home, but not only can I not complete a song, but I scrap it before it's even a song. Nothing I have created has been worthwhile. And it's the music -- I have no problem with words (as this post will likely demonstrate) but the music... the process of creating music is so, so loaded and so inexplicably difficult.
In recent years I've begun to wonder why I have dated many musicians (almost all, actually). I came to the conclusion that maybe I just want to do what they do, and I mistake that envy and admiration for compatibility. The point is, everyone in my life seems to make music except me, and I feel like I want to even more than most of them.
When I bought my drums recently I rented out a timeslot in a practice space that acquaintances share and plunked them in there. I've had two turns in there and I can not make a sound. Tonight I went there and for three hours tinkered with my kit and setup just to occupy myself and feel like I was doing something. Because there were other people playing in the same building in a different room, and it paralyzed me to think of anyone anyone anyone hearing me. It just sounds so rough and unrhythmic that I can not bear to be heard. I couldn't play or even do little sticking exercises. I couldn't make a sound.
You may wonder how I ended up taking lessons. Well, the reason I quit my guitar lessons a few years ago was because I was so incredibly nervous that I could learn things alone during the week and be incapable of playing them in front of my teacher. I would go home and cry. It was too painful for me. I lucked out with my drum teacher -- he made me comfortable enough to accomplish things, but he lived in another city and I've moved since then.
Pretty much the only thing I don't mind performing in front of others is singing -- I really love to sing and I don't mind being heard at that. But with my guitars, I will play only if I know my neighbours are out, or I play my electric guitar without plugging it in, so it's quiet.
Am I phobic? Why does it hurt so much when I try to make things? As a reasonably balanced and well-adjusted person, how can I possibly be so self-conscious about this one very specific activity that I'm completely paralyzed? I just want to go to my practice space, sit down and play along to a song or mess around trying to get things down pat, but I can only sit there without lifting my arms and wishing I knew why.
I tried looking up music phobias online, but all I can find are music therapy programs for mental illness -- bitterly ironic that my problem is their treatment. Are there doctors who specialize in this not-stage-fright not-social-anxiety inability to make music? (This seems a little unlikely.) I've done a course of CBT before and I feel like this thing defeats all cognitive tools I have. I can think my way out of it, but I can not make my body act.
And this all might sound completely insane but it truly, truly breaks my heart. It almost physically hurts when I think about it. I want to do this so badly; what is wrong with me? I sat on my drum stool tonight teary-eyed because I hate that I have this problem so much. Why, why, why?
You have problems dealing with failure. You love music so much that you don't want to taint it.
Instead of looking up information about music related phobias, try searching for 'learning to fail' resources.
posted by Memo at 8:16 PM on October 8, 2007 [3 favorites]
Instead of looking up information about music related phobias, try searching for 'learning to fail' resources.
posted by Memo at 8:16 PM on October 8, 2007 [3 favorites]
I've found myself in a similar state before, and I'll second lemuria's suggestion. I just picked up instruments that I knew I couldn't play well (or at all, really), and started screwing around. I think the fact that I had no expectations for myself took away a whole lot of pressure. After experimenting with new instruments for a while, I felt better about switching back to ones that I'd taken lessons for or had more practice with. Now I'll happily make noise with anything I can find, in public or private, probably more often than others might prefer.
posted by solipsophistocracy at 8:20 PM on October 8, 2007
posted by solipsophistocracy at 8:20 PM on October 8, 2007
Do you have some good friends that you can play with? I know that sounds scary, but I, personally, kind of hate to practice the drums alone without any accompaniment and much prefer to play along with people, even if it's just simple stuff. If you have the drums and space, maybe have a friend come and just let yourself accompany with a plain old 4/4 beat, no fills or anything.
OR, slightly less scary: bring music you like to your practice space and play along. Don't worry about making anything new right now, just get comfortable actually playing your instruments. Don't feel like you have to match the song exactly, either.
posted by stefnet at 8:31 PM on October 8, 2007
OR, slightly less scary: bring music you like to your practice space and play along. Don't worry about making anything new right now, just get comfortable actually playing your instruments. Don't feel like you have to match the song exactly, either.
posted by stefnet at 8:31 PM on October 8, 2007
I just re-read and I'm not sure my suggestions are helpful as it seems like you've tried to do this stuff... hmmmm
posted by stefnet at 8:33 PM on October 8, 2007
posted by stefnet at 8:33 PM on October 8, 2007
Nothing I have created has been worthwhile.
Says who?
Music can be so easy--or it can be so damn hard. Just keep at it and success will come your way. Try easy first. Don't worry about the melody at all. Pick 4 chords. Let's say G, D, Em C in that order. Get a strum pattern. Pick a number of bars for each chord. Play it over and over again until you like it.
Also, therapy will help. When I hear "nothing I have created has been worthwhile" I think therapy will help.
Remember art is as much about what you are learning not to do than what you are doing.
Plus PLAY WITH OTHER PEOPLE. Nothing results in songwriting faster.
posted by Ironmouth at 8:33 PM on October 8, 2007
Says who?
Music can be so easy--or it can be so damn hard. Just keep at it and success will come your way. Try easy first. Don't worry about the melody at all. Pick 4 chords. Let's say G, D, Em C in that order. Get a strum pattern. Pick a number of bars for each chord. Play it over and over again until you like it.
Also, therapy will help. When I hear "nothing I have created has been worthwhile" I think therapy will help.
Remember art is as much about what you are learning not to do than what you are doing.
Plus PLAY WITH OTHER PEOPLE. Nothing results in songwriting faster.
posted by Ironmouth at 8:33 PM on October 8, 2007
Also do like 40 minutes of CBT exercises a day for like 3 months. You'll feel so much better.
posted by Ironmouth at 8:35 PM on October 8, 2007 [1 favorite]
posted by Ironmouth at 8:35 PM on October 8, 2007 [1 favorite]
One more try, again drum-related. How about trying something like putting your sticks aside and just using your feet? Just make some beats with your kick and hi-hat pedal, even if it's just BOM-chick-BOM-chick-BOM-chick. Or, just use one stick and no feet and hit the snare along with a metronome.
It just seems like you need to get over the hump of worrying about playing and actually get to playing, even if it's not "music" just yet. The more you can break down the mechanics of playing your instrument into little discrete things that don't make Big Scary Music, the more comfortable you can become with making those motions and not worrying about it.
posted by stefnet at 8:40 PM on October 8, 2007
It just seems like you need to get over the hump of worrying about playing and actually get to playing, even if it's not "music" just yet. The more you can break down the mechanics of playing your instrument into little discrete things that don't make Big Scary Music, the more comfortable you can become with making those motions and not worrying about it.
posted by stefnet at 8:40 PM on October 8, 2007
Try making a great quantity of really bad music
That's it. No one makes great, or even passable, music right out of the gate. You will have to tolerate the sound of yourself murdering music for a while—possibly a long while—before you get to hear the sweet sounds you are looking for.
Just think of it as your odyssey. Ithaca is there at the end. Lots of pain between here and there, but...it's worth it.
posted by bricoleur at 8:40 PM on October 8, 2007
That's it. No one makes great, or even passable, music right out of the gate. You will have to tolerate the sound of yourself murdering music for a while—possibly a long while—before you get to hear the sweet sounds you are looking for.
Just think of it as your odyssey. Ithaca is there at the end. Lots of pain between here and there, but...it's worth it.
posted by bricoleur at 8:40 PM on October 8, 2007
You might look for the books Fearless Creating and The Artist's Way. Both of them deal with the concept of fear of creativity. Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird is geared more toward writers but I think the concept of shitty first drafts works for everyone.
Frankly, you're not afraid of music. You're afraid of failure, or success, or some combination of the two.
posted by sugarfish at 8:47 PM on October 8, 2007 [1 favorite]
Frankly, you're not afraid of music. You're afraid of failure, or success, or some combination of the two.
posted by sugarfish at 8:47 PM on October 8, 2007 [1 favorite]
You know what really made it easy for me? Going to see a bunch of impossibly shitty indie bands. If they're bad enough, you'll be embarrassed for them and leave thinking if people stayed around and listened to that crap... I can do so much better...
posted by phrontist at 8:47 PM on October 8, 2007 [1 favorite]
posted by phrontist at 8:47 PM on October 8, 2007 [1 favorite]
Best answer: I am a professionally creative person. Much of what you said resonates with me, either from my own experience, or from the experience of artists I know.
I tend to think that many people who are very, very gifted, and very smart - smart enough to know when they're sucking - and who grow up in environments that don't encourage fearless creativity, end up with crippling anxiety about the creative process.
It's so easy to say this, but when I feel tapped in, I really do experience it this way: creating something is easy and delightful and tremendous fun. When I work too hard at it, I shut down. When I beat myself up, I shut down. When I dwell on criticism, I shut down.
So the first thing you have to do is stop yelling at yourself for not being the genius creator you secretly know you are. And that will be kind of hard! You've created this great tape loop all about how much you suck, and you've been playing it for years. It's really easy for your brain to default back into that groove. So, yes, that part will take some work. You have to catch yourself in nonsense statements like "I've never created anything worthwhile" and replace them with things like "That's a very strong statement. Maybe I don't have to say "never". Maybe the best I can do right now is "It feels like I haven't done anything creatively worthwhile recently", but at least that leaves the door open to maybe do something interesting in the future."
Be easy on yourself. Look at little kids learning to create. Does anyone who isn't crazy think that you can help a toddler be a better musician by yelling at them that their music sucks? No, you recognize that the banging on the pots and pans is some kind of joyous creative act, even if you don't get it, and you say "That was delightful! Now perhaps you'd like to try banging on this piano. For instance. Kind of gently."
The single best thing I have ever done for myself as a creative person was accept the idea that I cannot shame or berate myself into writing something great. But you can rediscover in yourself a sense of playfulness about what you're doing. You can do things when they're fun and stop doing them when they're not. You can fool around in private until you're completely comfortable fooling around in private, and then think about playing with others.
You might consider reading The Artist's Way, by Julia Cameron. I've never managed to do all the exercises, but a few years ago, I found it really helpful in soothing myself through a bout of "I am terrible/who am I kidding/I will never amount to anything."
I really encourage you to be very gentle with yourself about this. You're meant to make music, and if you slooooowly train yourself to relax and have fun, you will make music.
Good luck to you.
posted by thehmsbeagle at 8:54 PM on October 8, 2007 [15 favorites]
I tend to think that many people who are very, very gifted, and very smart - smart enough to know when they're sucking - and who grow up in environments that don't encourage fearless creativity, end up with crippling anxiety about the creative process.
It's so easy to say this, but when I feel tapped in, I really do experience it this way: creating something is easy and delightful and tremendous fun. When I work too hard at it, I shut down. When I beat myself up, I shut down. When I dwell on criticism, I shut down.
So the first thing you have to do is stop yelling at yourself for not being the genius creator you secretly know you are. And that will be kind of hard! You've created this great tape loop all about how much you suck, and you've been playing it for years. It's really easy for your brain to default back into that groove. So, yes, that part will take some work. You have to catch yourself in nonsense statements like "I've never created anything worthwhile" and replace them with things like "That's a very strong statement. Maybe I don't have to say "never". Maybe the best I can do right now is "It feels like I haven't done anything creatively worthwhile recently", but at least that leaves the door open to maybe do something interesting in the future."
Be easy on yourself. Look at little kids learning to create. Does anyone who isn't crazy think that you can help a toddler be a better musician by yelling at them that their music sucks? No, you recognize that the banging on the pots and pans is some kind of joyous creative act, even if you don't get it, and you say "That was delightful! Now perhaps you'd like to try banging on this piano. For instance. Kind of gently."
The single best thing I have ever done for myself as a creative person was accept the idea that I cannot shame or berate myself into writing something great. But you can rediscover in yourself a sense of playfulness about what you're doing. You can do things when they're fun and stop doing them when they're not. You can fool around in private until you're completely comfortable fooling around in private, and then think about playing with others.
You might consider reading The Artist's Way, by Julia Cameron. I've never managed to do all the exercises, but a few years ago, I found it really helpful in soothing myself through a bout of "I am terrible/who am I kidding/I will never amount to anything."
I really encourage you to be very gentle with yourself about this. You're meant to make music, and if you slooooowly train yourself to relax and have fun, you will make music.
Good luck to you.
posted by thehmsbeagle at 8:54 PM on October 8, 2007 [15 favorites]
Holy crap, loiseau, you are describing me to a "T." Except that I have the opposite problem with music/words. (I can write music, but my lyrics suck bigtime.) Perhaps we should get together and not make music!
I will be paying attention to the responses you get. Memo may be onto a good idea. Good luck!
posted by shifafa at 8:54 PM on October 8, 2007
I will be paying attention to the responses you get. Memo may be onto a good idea. Good luck!
posted by shifafa at 8:54 PM on October 8, 2007
Best answer: Try making an Album-A-Day. Basically, the goal is to record 20 minutes of finished music in only 24 hours, and with some extra constraints: no ideas from before the chosen day, no outtakes (everything recorded must be used), etc. Having extreme constraints like that can take the pressure off; the rules are so harsh that you're expected to produce mostly crap. If you screw something up, oh well, gotta move on to the next song!
Also, do you know any basic music theory? If not, it's worth looking into, because it's absurdly easy and really helpful. (Look up "Nashville numbers" for starters.) I seriously don't think I've ever learned anything else in my life with a higher usefulness/difficulty ratio.
posted by equalpants at 8:55 PM on October 8, 2007 [4 favorites]
Also, do you know any basic music theory? If not, it's worth looking into, because it's absurdly easy and really helpful. (Look up "Nashville numbers" for starters.) I seriously don't think I've ever learned anything else in my life with a higher usefulness/difficulty ratio.
posted by equalpants at 8:55 PM on October 8, 2007 [4 favorites]
Because there were other people playing in the same building in a different room, and it paralyzed me to think of anyone anyone anyone hearing me. It just sounds so rough and unrhythmic that I can not bear to be heard. I couldn't play or even do little sticking exercises. I couldn't make a sound.
Yeah, I feel you. Drums are loud, and bad drumming feels very antisocial.
My solution was to set the drum kit up in the carpark underneath my workplace, which was in a suburban business area with no houses nearby and no workers around at all after about 7pm, and blaze away at midnight.
I'm currently waiting until I've dug myself out an underground practice room before getting stuck into it again :-)
Seriously, start with the drums. You will be amazed at what happens to the way you think (and not-think) as you pick them up. The not-think thing is absolutely key - you can't think about what sound you're going to make next; thinking is just too slow.
posted by flabdablet at 8:59 PM on October 8, 2007
Yeah, I feel you. Drums are loud, and bad drumming feels very antisocial.
My solution was to set the drum kit up in the carpark underneath my workplace, which was in a suburban business area with no houses nearby and no workers around at all after about 7pm, and blaze away at midnight.
I'm currently waiting until I've dug myself out an underground practice room before getting stuck into it again :-)
Seriously, start with the drums. You will be amazed at what happens to the way you think (and not-think) as you pick them up. The not-think thing is absolutely key - you can't think about what sound you're going to make next; thinking is just too slow.
posted by flabdablet at 8:59 PM on October 8, 2007
Oh, this is so sad.
Look, I started playing when I was seven. Perhaps the big advantage I had was not a child's ease in learning - perhaps it was that I had no idea how terrible I was. I was pleased as anything with my first efforts. I acquired the motor skill before I learned self-criticism. It's only now that I'm a grownup that I've learned to judge what I do harshly.
These days I'm learning some other things as an adult which I do very badly indeed. For example, a few years ago I took up capoeira, which is no picnic when you start in your 30s and your peers are all in their teens and early 20s. Whenever I think "God I suck at this. I look like a fool. I should just stop" I remind myself that everyone, everyone sucks when they start. Furthermore, with practise, I suck less. I am in fact now better than a rank beginner, and can teach things to other people. The only valid measure of my progress is against myself.
Everyone you know who is good started off where you are now. Everyone who is bad stopped not long after.
I realise this is not actually advice for overcoming a phobia, but I honestly think you could write your own version of a creed like that and repeat it to yourself with advantage.
Maybe in your practice room you can tell yourself "tee hee, those other clowns think there's a little kid in here - little do they know!" And then imagine how you would have enjoyed whacking the shit out of that drumkit when you were five.
If anyone asks "what were you doing in there?" look them in the eye and say "it's for my next recording." Exit stage right.
posted by i_am_joe's_spleen at 9:23 PM on October 8, 2007 [1 favorite]
Look, I started playing when I was seven. Perhaps the big advantage I had was not a child's ease in learning - perhaps it was that I had no idea how terrible I was. I was pleased as anything with my first efforts. I acquired the motor skill before I learned self-criticism. It's only now that I'm a grownup that I've learned to judge what I do harshly.
These days I'm learning some other things as an adult which I do very badly indeed. For example, a few years ago I took up capoeira, which is no picnic when you start in your 30s and your peers are all in their teens and early 20s. Whenever I think "God I suck at this. I look like a fool. I should just stop" I remind myself that everyone, everyone sucks when they start. Furthermore, with practise, I suck less. I am in fact now better than a rank beginner, and can teach things to other people. The only valid measure of my progress is against myself.
Everyone you know who is good started off where you are now. Everyone who is bad stopped not long after.
I realise this is not actually advice for overcoming a phobia, but I honestly think you could write your own version of a creed like that and repeat it to yourself with advantage.
Maybe in your practice room you can tell yourself "tee hee, those other clowns think there's a little kid in here - little do they know!" And then imagine how you would have enjoyed whacking the shit out of that drumkit when you were five.
If anyone asks "what were you doing in there?" look them in the eye and say "it's for my next recording." Exit stage right.
posted by i_am_joe's_spleen at 9:23 PM on October 8, 2007 [1 favorite]
Another angle - people who are anxious about public speaking go to Toastmasters. Maybe you need a teacher who does group lessons.
I initially learned the violin back in the 70s by the Suzuki method. One of the Suzuki teaching practises was to have weekly "group practise", where all the students would play through the repertoire, starting with the most basic exercises. Students would drop out as we moved on to more advanced pieces. At the end of the practise random students would be asked to perform something they had been working on with the teacher.
This was enormously helpful to me. I have never had stage fright my whole life, and I attribute it to this early group work.
Maybe if you can learn and practise with one or more other people of a similar standard you can let the power of the group help you out.
posted by i_am_joe's_spleen at 9:30 PM on October 8, 2007
I initially learned the violin back in the 70s by the Suzuki method. One of the Suzuki teaching practises was to have weekly "group practise", where all the students would play through the repertoire, starting with the most basic exercises. Students would drop out as we moved on to more advanced pieces. At the end of the practise random students would be asked to perform something they had been working on with the teacher.
This was enormously helpful to me. I have never had stage fright my whole life, and I attribute it to this early group work.
Maybe if you can learn and practise with one or more other people of a similar standard you can let the power of the group help you out.
posted by i_am_joe's_spleen at 9:30 PM on October 8, 2007
Do you want to play music or compose it? If you do want to compose, great, but I think you should work on the playing/performing first. Like others on this thread, I sense that you're a paralyzed perfectionist: if you're not going to be immediately brilliant, you feel like you can't do anything.
As one who's dabbled in music and then got more serious in recent years, I completely understand what you're going through. For a long time, I could not play when I thought anyone was outside my flat; then, when my husband was there; then when his friends were in a different room; then... You get the pattern: you just need to ignore that people can hear you, especially as that is the point of performing, right?
Finally, as someone who has had major performance anxiety (at my first lesson, I could not bear to play a note in front of my teacher whom I was paying), I leave you with the paraphrased words of my (fantastic) piano teacher:
"To play music, you must truly be in the now. If you hit a wrong note, it doesn't matter: that time is past and there's no point in dwelling on it. What matters now is what you want to happen for the next notes."
posted by sfkiddo at 9:35 PM on October 8, 2007
As one who's dabbled in music and then got more serious in recent years, I completely understand what you're going through. For a long time, I could not play when I thought anyone was outside my flat; then, when my husband was there; then when his friends were in a different room; then... You get the pattern: you just need to ignore that people can hear you, especially as that is the point of performing, right?
Finally, as someone who has had major performance anxiety (at my first lesson, I could not bear to play a note in front of my teacher whom I was paying), I leave you with the paraphrased words of my (fantastic) piano teacher:
"To play music, you must truly be in the now. If you hit a wrong note, it doesn't matter: that time is past and there's no point in dwelling on it. What matters now is what you want to happen for the next notes."
posted by sfkiddo at 9:35 PM on October 8, 2007
Best answer: Boy, you're just like I was. Nothing is more paralyzing than knowing you're terrible at something, and being surrounded by people who either could do it very well, or would have no patience for you doing it badly. Especially when your head is full of original music all the time.
I finally bought an electric piano, thinking "well, if I play with headphones for the next thirty years, maybe I can play nice little songs to entertain my grandkids." Eventually I decided "fuck this, I'm surrounded by just as much terrible art as good art, so why should I suffer?" and decided to take a new pledge: I would write and sing songs for people, and would present them without apologizing or making excuses first.
It was tough, because I'd want to say "oh, I was having a bad day" or "oh, I hate that note there", but I just kept my mouth shut. Eventually I wrote a song for SongFight!. It didn't win, I didn't think it was very good, and I got some negative feedback -- but also some positive feedback. More importantly, I'd taken the plunge to strangers (easy to do when they don't know you) and, thus encouraged, I did some more.
The real thing that made my creativity explode, however, was the ukulele my wife bought me. I'd always been terrible at stringed instruments, but the uke worked perfectly for me, and I've never looked back. If it helps inspire you, check out my stuff on SongFight! (under "Minty Handy".)
see there how I exposed my music to you without making excuses or saying there was some song you should avoid or whatever? you have no idea how liberating that is for me!
By the way, I recently played at some public SongFight! shows. I'd say moving from "never in front of nobody, nohow" to playing in front of strangers in strange towns with no friends or loved ones around in a couple of years is, to say the least, the best result of just sucking it up and accepting that failure, while potentially likely, is just momentary.
Good luck. I'd love to hear your work, whether it's good or not.
posted by davejay at 10:03 PM on October 8, 2007 [1 favorite]
I finally bought an electric piano, thinking "well, if I play with headphones for the next thirty years, maybe I can play nice little songs to entertain my grandkids." Eventually I decided "fuck this, I'm surrounded by just as much terrible art as good art, so why should I suffer?" and decided to take a new pledge: I would write and sing songs for people, and would present them without apologizing or making excuses first.
It was tough, because I'd want to say "oh, I was having a bad day" or "oh, I hate that note there", but I just kept my mouth shut. Eventually I wrote a song for SongFight!. It didn't win, I didn't think it was very good, and I got some negative feedback -- but also some positive feedback. More importantly, I'd taken the plunge to strangers (easy to do when they don't know you) and, thus encouraged, I did some more.
The real thing that made my creativity explode, however, was the ukulele my wife bought me. I'd always been terrible at stringed instruments, but the uke worked perfectly for me, and I've never looked back. If it helps inspire you, check out my stuff on SongFight! (under "Minty Handy".)
see there how I exposed my music to you without making excuses or saying there was some song you should avoid or whatever? you have no idea how liberating that is for me!
By the way, I recently played at some public SongFight! shows. I'd say moving from "never in front of nobody, nohow" to playing in front of strangers in strange towns with no friends or loved ones around in a couple of years is, to say the least, the best result of just sucking it up and accepting that failure, while potentially likely, is just momentary.
Good luck. I'd love to hear your work, whether it's good or not.
posted by davejay at 10:03 PM on October 8, 2007 [1 favorite]
In recent years I've begun to wonder why I have dated many musicians (almost all, actually). I came to the conclusion that maybe I just want to do what they do, and I mistake that envy and admiration for compatibility. The point is, everyone in my life seems to make music except me, and I feel like I want to even more than most of them.
Nthing The Artist's Way (which I'm reading now). You are referring to what is described in that book as "Shadow Artists," people who surround themselves with artists because they're paralyzed to making their own art.
Do you ever look at any of your musician friends and think "I could do better than that?" It's true, you probably could do better, but you never will until you get something out.
For the most part, the difference between creative types and people who want to be creative types is a matter of quantity, not quality. Put out enough crap and something good is guaranteed to shine through.
Now, to take my own advice...
posted by Brittanie at 10:35 PM on October 8, 2007
Nthing The Artist's Way (which I'm reading now). You are referring to what is described in that book as "Shadow Artists," people who surround themselves with artists because they're paralyzed to making their own art.
Do you ever look at any of your musician friends and think "I could do better than that?" It's true, you probably could do better, but you never will until you get something out.
For the most part, the difference between creative types and people who want to be creative types is a matter of quantity, not quality. Put out enough crap and something good is guaranteed to shine through.
Now, to take my own advice...
posted by Brittanie at 10:35 PM on October 8, 2007
Chiming in with a "me too." I may not be a genius yet, but some day...
My most recent battle was with singing: I couldn't do it in any satisfactory way while I was playing. I could walk down the street singing a random song fine, but once I had to perform—even just for myself—I would clam up. Everything sounded unnatural, none of the notes came out right. For me, singing crazy has helped. I play around with singing from different parts of my mouth, for instance, or affect a strong country twang. Anything that helps me realize that the whole project of making music is an experiment and not some always-on reflection of my abilities. I now have a couple songs that I feel confident singing and I always start with those.
That being said, I still have trouble when I think other people might be able to hear me. If you're in your practice space, try reminding yourself that they actually don't care at all and are most likely just focused on their own music.
The trick is to get into a headspace where that hyper-critical part of your brain can't go. Some kind of physical exercise could help with that. Run around, go crazy, throw yourself against the wall before you play drums. Remind your body what it's like to not worry about what other people think. I can imagine getting a twofer on drums: bang hard and loud and forever and don't worry about making music and work up a sweat.
posted by wemayfreeze at 10:37 PM on October 8, 2007
My most recent battle was with singing: I couldn't do it in any satisfactory way while I was playing. I could walk down the street singing a random song fine, but once I had to perform—even just for myself—I would clam up. Everything sounded unnatural, none of the notes came out right. For me, singing crazy has helped. I play around with singing from different parts of my mouth, for instance, or affect a strong country twang. Anything that helps me realize that the whole project of making music is an experiment and not some always-on reflection of my abilities. I now have a couple songs that I feel confident singing and I always start with those.
That being said, I still have trouble when I think other people might be able to hear me. If you're in your practice space, try reminding yourself that they actually don't care at all and are most likely just focused on their own music.
The trick is to get into a headspace where that hyper-critical part of your brain can't go. Some kind of physical exercise could help with that. Run around, go crazy, throw yourself against the wall before you play drums. Remind your body what it's like to not worry about what other people think. I can imagine getting a twofer on drums: bang hard and loud and forever and don't worry about making music and work up a sweat.
posted by wemayfreeze at 10:37 PM on October 8, 2007
I don't have answers, but I can add to the "you're not alone" pile-on. Click on my name, I've posted about ten songs to music.mefi. I'm not generally socially shy or awkward, but I feel very anxious about sharing my music. I consider myself a mediocre guitar player, a passable bassist, and a bad drummer... and I often grimace at my music. It's interesting you feel comfortable with your singing, but not your guitar playing. I'm the exact opposite. Anyway, from my experience, I think all you can do is put it out there and keep telling yourself nobody else really cares. To quote Ray Smuckles, "I wish in the past I had tried more things 'cause now I know that being in trouble is a fake idea."
posted by erikgrande at 10:38 PM on October 8, 2007
posted by erikgrande at 10:38 PM on October 8, 2007
I had similar hesitancy when I began playing music. I did not feel confident in my abilities in front of people and everywhere you look there are people that are better. This changed when I started a band with some friends who I could be %100 comfortable around in any situation. Then playing with others became a way to push myself but also to help them progress as well. It has been amazing ever since and eventually you all start to realize that you are all getting better and it EXTREMELY rewarding. I would suggest that you get a friend who plays guitar or keys -and is at a similar skill level- come and play with you. I play guitar and drumming by myself has got to be the hardest thing I can do! With others it opens it up because you can work off each others ideas. All music is good when played and created by yourself. But remember to also laugh at yourself and let yourself write "bad" music too, its fun!
Look at the 80's, I always wonder how singing about "rocking" would not be the most self-conscious exercise in existence.
posted by occidental at 10:53 PM on October 8, 2007
Look at the 80's, I always wonder how singing about "rocking" would not be the most self-conscious exercise in existence.
posted by occidental at 10:53 PM on October 8, 2007
Making bad noises/art/writing/output-of-any-kind does not make you a bad person. You do not have to to share these experiments with others. You can shred them, preserve them, burn them, or mix them with future endeavors.
If you would like some more reading material, I suggest Art & Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland.
From the book: Consider that if artist equals self, then when (inevitably) you make flawed art, you are a flawed person, and when (worse yet) you make no art, you are no person at all!
I trained in piano and clarinet. Secretly I wanted to be a drummer. I bought a pawn shop Squier bass and it hurts to play. Still, I drag it out, put on the headphones, plug it into a cheap amp and practice from books. Sometimes I plug it into my computer's sound card and try to rock along with Tina Weymouth.
Still, secretly, I desire to make pounding noises, so I scope ads for a digital drum pad set that I can use with headphones and house in an efficiency apartment with all my other fetishes.
I'm 32, in university, and I invite you (and anyone else) to contact me and inspire one another.
posted by bonobo at 11:13 PM on October 8, 2007
If you would like some more reading material, I suggest Art & Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland.
From the book: Consider that if artist equals self, then when (inevitably) you make flawed art, you are a flawed person, and when (worse yet) you make no art, you are no person at all!
I trained in piano and clarinet. Secretly I wanted to be a drummer. I bought a pawn shop Squier bass and it hurts to play. Still, I drag it out, put on the headphones, plug it into a cheap amp and practice from books. Sometimes I plug it into my computer's sound card and try to rock along with Tina Weymouth.
Still, secretly, I desire to make pounding noises, so I scope ads for a digital drum pad set that I can use with headphones and house in an efficiency apartment with all my other fetishes.
I'm 32, in university, and I invite you (and anyone else) to contact me and inspire one another.
posted by bonobo at 11:13 PM on October 8, 2007
Here's how I learned to make music:
1. Try. Try your very hardest for hours and days.
2. Fail. Fail hard in everybody's face.
3. Repeat steps 1 and 2 a few times
4. Edge out some small success
5. 1 and 2 some more.
6. Gain a little more skill, win a few more victories against convention and banality
7. Continue this process until everything you churn out has at least a few redeeming qualities.
Everything comes in waves and oscillations, but you have to start the cycle to see it come to fruition. You've got a lot of crap to make before your first decent tune. Get on it.
posted by tehloki at 11:39 PM on October 8, 2007
1. Try. Try your very hardest for hours and days.
2. Fail. Fail hard in everybody's face.
3. Repeat steps 1 and 2 a few times
4. Edge out some small success
5. 1 and 2 some more.
6. Gain a little more skill, win a few more victories against convention and banality
7. Continue this process until everything you churn out has at least a few redeeming qualities.
Everything comes in waves and oscillations, but you have to start the cycle to see it come to fruition. You've got a lot of crap to make before your first decent tune. Get on it.
posted by tehloki at 11:39 PM on October 8, 2007
You don't mention it explicitly in your post, but I get the impression that you're trying (or feel you ought) to compose your own music rather than playing other peoples. I would imagine that this is much harder than following the more normal path of (1) getting a basic level of proficiency on an instrument, (2) learning to play a bunch of songs then (3) starting to write your own music. If you don't know many songs then I would recommend that you learn to play a load of songs that you like before thinking about composing your own.
Taking a guitar-/vocal-biased viewpoint, there are lots of creative things you can do short of writing a song from scratch - play in a different key, sing a different melody (I usually have to do this as I have a terrible range), play hamonica. Presumably there are analogous drum-y things (add your own fills, switch to different sticks/brushes).
My own experience is slightly biased toward folky-type songs, but when I play a well-known song that I love ("Girl from the North Country", say) I enjoy thinking about all the different ways that people have arranged/played/sung it, most of which will never be heard by anyone other than the singer, and all the different situations in which it's been played, and I like to imagine myself as a tiny, insignificant agent in the history of the song, playing it in a way that's more similar to some people than to others, but different from them all. Maybe if you can think of songs in those terms, rather than as a kind of platonic ideal that's immutable, the prospect of not-being-as-good-as-your-favourite-version-of-that-song won't be so daunting.
Perhaps you could respond and any of this is remotely helpful/accurate; I've helped (and failed to help) quite a few people in getting started with music, so this discussion is extremely interesting to me.
posted by primer_dimer at 3:03 AM on October 9, 2007
Taking a guitar-/vocal-biased viewpoint, there are lots of creative things you can do short of writing a song from scratch - play in a different key, sing a different melody (I usually have to do this as I have a terrible range), play hamonica. Presumably there are analogous drum-y things (add your own fills, switch to different sticks/brushes).
My own experience is slightly biased toward folky-type songs, but when I play a well-known song that I love ("Girl from the North Country", say) I enjoy thinking about all the different ways that people have arranged/played/sung it, most of which will never be heard by anyone other than the singer, and all the different situations in which it's been played, and I like to imagine myself as a tiny, insignificant agent in the history of the song, playing it in a way that's more similar to some people than to others, but different from them all. Maybe if you can think of songs in those terms, rather than as a kind of platonic ideal that's immutable, the prospect of not-being-as-good-as-your-favourite-version-of-that-song won't be so daunting.
Perhaps you could respond and any of this is remotely helpful/accurate; I've helped (and failed to help) quite a few people in getting started with music, so this discussion is extremely interesting to me.
posted by primer_dimer at 3:03 AM on October 9, 2007
Or, since you feel more comfortable as a singer, start with singing. One (or more) of your friends' bands may be very excited to have a backup singer to sit in for a couple of songs. Get comfortable with performing with others, and you can expand to adding instruments-- even if it's just a tambourine or triangle. It's one small step from triangle to drum kit.
Another approach is to find some people who are at your level (or just slightly better) and start playing together with them. It will push you to get better. Playing with others is much more fun than sitting alone and playing by yourself. And if they suck, too, you'll have no expectations for each other.
Don't be afraid to suck. If you do it loudly and enthusiastically with conviction, well, that's how some of the best bands started.
posted by andrewraff at 7:58 AM on October 9, 2007
Another approach is to find some people who are at your level (or just slightly better) and start playing together with them. It will push you to get better. Playing with others is much more fun than sitting alone and playing by yourself. And if they suck, too, you'll have no expectations for each other.
Don't be afraid to suck. If you do it loudly and enthusiastically with conviction, well, that's how some of the best bands started.
posted by andrewraff at 7:58 AM on October 9, 2007
Another "me too," to some extent. It's so easy to get paralyzed by fear of failure. I was a piano major in college, but now that I'm in a band I feel like a complete idiot because improvising is completely new to me. I started playing bass a couple of years ago as well, and I'm completely insecure about my inexpert, self-taught technique. But I fake it. When we play out, I make myself look up at the audience, and I own every note I play, as well as every note that I miss. I just act like I meant to do everything that I did. And the more I fake it, the more I realize that the bad moments were pretty small in the grand scheme of things, and hey - I just played in front of friends and strangers and they're not throwing tomatoes at me.
It feels impossible to change your feelings, to "not be afraid to suck" (as andrewraff says). But the more you pretend (both to yourself and to others) that you rock, the more you realize that everything you're doing is great. You played a chord? So much better than sitting there not playing a chord. You laid down a simple rhythm? Awesome. If you hadn't just played it, the world would have been just a little quieter. Make noise, and it'll become music.
posted by bassjump at 8:23 AM on October 9, 2007
It feels impossible to change your feelings, to "not be afraid to suck" (as andrewraff says). But the more you pretend (both to yourself and to others) that you rock, the more you realize that everything you're doing is great. You played a chord? So much better than sitting there not playing a chord. You laid down a simple rhythm? Awesome. If you hadn't just played it, the world would have been just a little quieter. Make noise, and it'll become music.
posted by bassjump at 8:23 AM on October 9, 2007
Firstly, as many others have said, you're not alone. These fears are common, and they can be overcome.
Secondly, from the examples you've given it sounds like your phobia kicks in only once others have a chance to hear you. It really is a version of stage fright - one triggered by having any audience at all. That does make it hard to take lessons from a live teacher, but fortunately we live in an age where there are alternatives. Pick an instrument you can play in the privacy of your own room (an acoustic guitar or keyboard with headphones would be good), and start out with some DVD lessons from http://www.homespuntapes.com/.
Even you you never get the nerve to play in from of other people, you can still have the satisfaction of playing for yourself. If you do eventually get the confidence to show someone what you've been working on, don't be alarmed if initially your skill level seems to drop off drastically due to your nervousness. That's normal. Eventually, you can get to the point where you can play in front of others as well as you can by yourself. It just takes time.
Lots of other folks have pointed out the importance of giving yourself the freedom to play badly. That's good advice. I'll add to it. Give yourself permission to play silly as well. Maybe you'll have to start out while you're practicing on your own, but try just messing around and hitting notes wildly at random. Make haphazard, dissonant, arrhythmic noises at random like a little kid ... and then keep on doing it until you're just giggling at your own craziness.
You don't specify what exactly your private practice sessions are focused on, when you do them, but I suspect you may be aiming high - expecting something beautiful and musical right away. Besides giving yourself permission to play badly and to be silly, you should also give yourself permission to be boring and simple in the beginning. Play "Twinkle, twinkle, little star" and other such toy songs. Practice simple little exercises that don't even seem that worthwhile - in fact they are helping to develop skills which will be useful later.
It's unusual that you're comfortable about singing in public while being that phobic about playing, but perhaps you can put that to good use. Try playing a vocal melody on guitar or keyboard while singing along. See if you can get to the point where you just see the instrument as an extension of your own voice.
As primer_diner suggested, it would be great if you could respond in the thread to let us know what comments have been helpful/accurate or not so far. Also feel free to email me (address in profile) if you feel like discussing the issue. I'm a big believer that everyone is entitled to the enjoyment of making music, no matter what their natural ability.
posted by tdismukes at 8:26 AM on October 9, 2007
Secondly, from the examples you've given it sounds like your phobia kicks in only once others have a chance to hear you. It really is a version of stage fright - one triggered by having any audience at all. That does make it hard to take lessons from a live teacher, but fortunately we live in an age where there are alternatives. Pick an instrument you can play in the privacy of your own room (an acoustic guitar or keyboard with headphones would be good), and start out with some DVD lessons from http://www.homespuntapes.com/.
Even you you never get the nerve to play in from of other people, you can still have the satisfaction of playing for yourself. If you do eventually get the confidence to show someone what you've been working on, don't be alarmed if initially your skill level seems to drop off drastically due to your nervousness. That's normal. Eventually, you can get to the point where you can play in front of others as well as you can by yourself. It just takes time.
Lots of other folks have pointed out the importance of giving yourself the freedom to play badly. That's good advice. I'll add to it. Give yourself permission to play silly as well. Maybe you'll have to start out while you're practicing on your own, but try just messing around and hitting notes wildly at random. Make haphazard, dissonant, arrhythmic noises at random like a little kid ... and then keep on doing it until you're just giggling at your own craziness.
You don't specify what exactly your private practice sessions are focused on, when you do them, but I suspect you may be aiming high - expecting something beautiful and musical right away. Besides giving yourself permission to play badly and to be silly, you should also give yourself permission to be boring and simple in the beginning. Play "Twinkle, twinkle, little star" and other such toy songs. Practice simple little exercises that don't even seem that worthwhile - in fact they are helping to develop skills which will be useful later.
It's unusual that you're comfortable about singing in public while being that phobic about playing, but perhaps you can put that to good use. Try playing a vocal melody on guitar or keyboard while singing along. See if you can get to the point where you just see the instrument as an extension of your own voice.
As primer_diner suggested, it would be great if you could respond in the thread to let us know what comments have been helpful/accurate or not so far. Also feel free to email me (address in profile) if you feel like discussing the issue. I'm a big believer that everyone is entitled to the enjoyment of making music, no matter what their natural ability.
posted by tdismukes at 8:26 AM on October 9, 2007
Oh, I forgot to say: making mediocre music does not make you a mediocre person. That's the hardest thing for me to believe, and it sounds like it may be for you as well. The music you create is not a judgment on you. That chord progression you just played may not fit they lyrics you're working with, but it's not a sign of any deficiency that it didn't work. Rather, it's a sign that you're creating, experimenting, and therefore getting better. Try to separate your analysis of the music from any judgments of yourself.
posted by bassjump at 8:26 AM on October 9, 2007
posted by bassjump at 8:26 AM on October 9, 2007
Best answer: I was thinking about this just today. I'm scared too. I started out scared and I've stayed scared. I'm scared just to write this all down, because apparently I hide being scared fairly well in public, and I'd prefer to go on doing so. Yet what you wrote is so painfully familiar that I have to reply.
I've always been attracted to independent musicians too, and I married one who is a great natural composer and can play any instrument he's ever picked up with great skill. Whereas, I wanted a piano from the time I was small, but never had access to one. By the time I could buy my own I convinced myself that I was just too old to play.
Then we started composing together and it was fine, because it was like play -- an extension of all the other conversations of our life. It really was something akin to what thehmsbeagle said, like being a little kid, unselfconscious and happy.
My fear didn't really kick in until we started talking about performing, including things I'd written. I've been to a lot of live shows. I've seen bands get heckled more than once. I'm certain that I've convinced a few people I have a substance abuse problem because I have to pee more often than a chihuahua before every show I've ever played. That's because I've been waiting for some drunk asshole to start screaming that I was ugly, that my playing was for shit, that I needed to get off the stage -- or to simply start laughing a derisive drunk laugh meant for me. That is what I've been dreading since we started, because it will be a vindication for every bad self-defeating impulse I've ever had that says you started too late, you will never be good enough, what you are doing is pointless and trite and will never matter a damn thing to anyone.
But I made a decision, and that is: I can't let that mocking asshole, who is after all an asshole, run my life. If I am behind, I am behind. If I am an amateur, so be it. If I look goofy, fuck it. I am more afraid of having spent a life crippled by fear than any of those things.
What helped me most, quite honestly, is my husband. He recognizes my panic and doesn't get angry; he treats what I do, no matter how halting, with appreciation and respect. Maybe therapy would help -- it rarely hurts, when conducted by a smart, sympathetic person -- but perhaps what would help more is a friend. We're supposed to be so self-sufficient and tough about our fears but there is no shame in getting help when you need it, or in relying on a little love and friendship to help you through your troubles. You have a lot of musician friends, right? Pick one you love and trust, and propose to him or her that you play together, in the actual spirit of play. No pressure for perfection or accomplishment, just or the joy and the hell of it. My husband got to do this at 14 with his friends so that by the time I saw him playing 10 years later he was brilliant, but he started out clanking and from nothing just like your brilliant friends did, and none of them have forgotten, trust me. Let yourself be vulnerable and honest about the trouble you're having. I would love to play with someone like you because I love music much the way you do, and believe in it as a great healer. The musicians I know who truly love music would feel the same way about helping another musician though a hard dark time. You shouldn't have to do this alone.
I wish you lived near so you could come over and play with us and if you are ever nearby the invitation is always open. I won't laugh at your lousy playing if you won't laugh at mine. You can do this. You really can. I truly wish the best for you.
posted by melissa may at 8:33 AM on October 9, 2007 [3 favorites]
I've always been attracted to independent musicians too, and I married one who is a great natural composer and can play any instrument he's ever picked up with great skill. Whereas, I wanted a piano from the time I was small, but never had access to one. By the time I could buy my own I convinced myself that I was just too old to play.
Then we started composing together and it was fine, because it was like play -- an extension of all the other conversations of our life. It really was something akin to what thehmsbeagle said, like being a little kid, unselfconscious and happy.
My fear didn't really kick in until we started talking about performing, including things I'd written. I've been to a lot of live shows. I've seen bands get heckled more than once. I'm certain that I've convinced a few people I have a substance abuse problem because I have to pee more often than a chihuahua before every show I've ever played. That's because I've been waiting for some drunk asshole to start screaming that I was ugly, that my playing was for shit, that I needed to get off the stage -- or to simply start laughing a derisive drunk laugh meant for me. That is what I've been dreading since we started, because it will be a vindication for every bad self-defeating impulse I've ever had that says you started too late, you will never be good enough, what you are doing is pointless and trite and will never matter a damn thing to anyone.
But I made a decision, and that is: I can't let that mocking asshole, who is after all an asshole, run my life. If I am behind, I am behind. If I am an amateur, so be it. If I look goofy, fuck it. I am more afraid of having spent a life crippled by fear than any of those things.
What helped me most, quite honestly, is my husband. He recognizes my panic and doesn't get angry; he treats what I do, no matter how halting, with appreciation and respect. Maybe therapy would help -- it rarely hurts, when conducted by a smart, sympathetic person -- but perhaps what would help more is a friend. We're supposed to be so self-sufficient and tough about our fears but there is no shame in getting help when you need it, or in relying on a little love and friendship to help you through your troubles. You have a lot of musician friends, right? Pick one you love and trust, and propose to him or her that you play together, in the actual spirit of play. No pressure for perfection or accomplishment, just or the joy and the hell of it. My husband got to do this at 14 with his friends so that by the time I saw him playing 10 years later he was brilliant, but he started out clanking and from nothing just like your brilliant friends did, and none of them have forgotten, trust me. Let yourself be vulnerable and honest about the trouble you're having. I would love to play with someone like you because I love music much the way you do, and believe in it as a great healer. The musicians I know who truly love music would feel the same way about helping another musician though a hard dark time. You shouldn't have to do this alone.
I wish you lived near so you could come over and play with us and if you are ever nearby the invitation is always open. I won't laugh at your lousy playing if you won't laugh at mine. You can do this. You really can. I truly wish the best for you.
posted by melissa may at 8:33 AM on October 9, 2007 [3 favorites]
I'm a songwriter.
There's an old saw that says you have to write one hundred bad songs before you write a good one.
There really is something to that.
What you need to do is find that inner censor of yours, tie it up, gag it, and stick it in the closet. In other words, give yourself permission to stink.
I've had the same problem as you in the past. It's simply a variant of pride. The way to overcome it is to grit your teeth and just do it. You have to let your brain go to an alternate universe where no one even exists.
I did that when I first started playing at my songwriter group. It works.
posted by konolia at 9:08 AM on October 9, 2007
There's an old saw that says you have to write one hundred bad songs before you write a good one.
There really is something to that.
What you need to do is find that inner censor of yours, tie it up, gag it, and stick it in the closet. In other words, give yourself permission to stink.
I've had the same problem as you in the past. It's simply a variant of pride. The way to overcome it is to grit your teeth and just do it. You have to let your brain go to an alternate universe where no one even exists.
I did that when I first started playing at my songwriter group. It works.
posted by konolia at 9:08 AM on October 9, 2007
I should add that Melissa May is right. Having the opportunity to play with other musicians who are patient, supportive and generous with their time can make an incredible difference. If you have the opportunity to work with anyone like that, take advantage.
posted by tdismukes at 9:34 AM on October 9, 2007
posted by tdismukes at 9:34 AM on October 9, 2007
Echoing what many have said here, but the main thing to keep in mind is that you need time. A few months of guitar lessons is a good start, but it takes at least several years of playing A LOT to get quite good. So I would suggest a bit more patient.
Not echoing what others have said here: It strikes me as a little strange to buy a drum set and pony up for practice space after a few beats on the traps. It seems like you're expectations are a bit high, perhaps because you are in your thirties, don't seem to have much experience and may feel the need to play catch up.
To be brutally honest - you are coming to the game rather late and I would keep your expectations low about what you can reasonably accomplish in the short term. My guess is that if you practice really hard at it (and you have natural talent - which is a BIG "if"), you'll be set to start performing live (with confidence) sometime around your 40th birthday, give or take a few years.
posted by dhammond at 11:40 AM on October 9, 2007
Not echoing what others have said here: It strikes me as a little strange to buy a drum set and pony up for practice space after a few beats on the traps. It seems like you're expectations are a bit high, perhaps because you are in your thirties, don't seem to have much experience and may feel the need to play catch up.
To be brutally honest - you are coming to the game rather late and I would keep your expectations low about what you can reasonably accomplish in the short term. My guess is that if you practice really hard at it (and you have natural talent - which is a BIG "if"), you'll be set to start performing live (with confidence) sometime around your 40th birthday, give or take a few years.
posted by dhammond at 11:40 AM on October 9, 2007
Study the violin for 6 to 12 months. After that, everything will seem easy.
posted by vilcxjo_BLANKA at 11:42 AM on October 9, 2007
posted by vilcxjo_BLANKA at 11:42 AM on October 9, 2007
I make music that I don't ever really share with anyone. Which is OK, I'm fine with being a hobbyist.
But some things that help me get over the "OMG THIS IS BAD" (which I think is a totally normal reaction. I'm still amazed that when people pay me for things I've written that they can't tell how incredibly terrible the writing is.) are the "naive" musicians.
Check out We're Twins records here. Some of it's crap, some of it's not, but it's the logical extension of the punk rock reaction ("Hey, I can do that!").
Arguably, I've got more tied up in this, since I get paid to have an opinion about music, and that leads to a fairly detached and objective sense that the music I make is pretty terrible. But it's fun, and I enjoy it, and occasionally I make something I like. Next step is to get some friends who have actual musical training to play with me a little. I think I will get them AMAZINGLY DRUNK first though.
posted by klangklangston at 12:47 PM on October 9, 2007
But some things that help me get over the "OMG THIS IS BAD" (which I think is a totally normal reaction. I'm still amazed that when people pay me for things I've written that they can't tell how incredibly terrible the writing is.) are the "naive" musicians.
Check out We're Twins records here. Some of it's crap, some of it's not, but it's the logical extension of the punk rock reaction ("Hey, I can do that!").
Arguably, I've got more tied up in this, since I get paid to have an opinion about music, and that leads to a fairly detached and objective sense that the music I make is pretty terrible. But it's fun, and I enjoy it, and occasionally I make something I like. Next step is to get some friends who have actual musical training to play with me a little. I think I will get them AMAZINGLY DRUNK first though.
posted by klangklangston at 12:47 PM on October 9, 2007
One more suggestion.
Set up a drum and a couple of sticks at home. At random, when you're passing by, give it a whack for a half a minute.
This is to habituate you to playing the damn thing.
When you're in the practise room, don't practise. Just - check that the heads are tight and properly tuned. You'll need to hit the skins, just to check.
Your sticks should be of even weight, so you should confirm that. Maybe just hit the seat of the drum stool to make sure.
Now that exercise you have to do - what does it sound like out loud? How does it go again? You're not to practise it mind, just go over it again...
Fool yourself into playing in the practice room by doing things that are conceptually less scary than playing where other people can hear.
posted by i_am_joe's_spleen at 1:38 PM on October 9, 2007
Set up a drum and a couple of sticks at home. At random, when you're passing by, give it a whack for a half a minute.
This is to habituate you to playing the damn thing.
When you're in the practise room, don't practise. Just - check that the heads are tight and properly tuned. You'll need to hit the skins, just to check.
Your sticks should be of even weight, so you should confirm that. Maybe just hit the seat of the drum stool to make sure.
Now that exercise you have to do - what does it sound like out loud? How does it go again? You're not to practise it mind, just go over it again...
Fool yourself into playing in the practice room by doing things that are conceptually less scary than playing where other people can hear.
posted by i_am_joe's_spleen at 1:38 PM on October 9, 2007
"To be brutally honest - you are coming to the game rather late and I would keep your expectations low about what you can reasonably accomplish in the short term. My guess is that if you practice really hard at it (and you have natural talent - which is a BIG "if"), you'll be set to start performing live (with confidence) sometime around your 40th birthday, give or take a few years."
I think most of dhammond's comment is pretty good, but the portion I've just quoted probably overstates the case.
Speaking as a person who started with below-average musical talent and who didn't start playing seriously until my late twenties:
If you have even an average amount of natural talent and can induce yourself to practice on guitar daily in a focused manner:
Within a year, you should be good enough to casually entertain friends & family with a few simple songs in the living room.
Within a couple of years, you can be good enough to do a short set at a coffee house open-mike night. If you have a good voice and you're already comfortable with singing in public, you could be ready for this stage earlier. Your guitar playing will probably just be simple accompaniment, but that's fine for a beginning.
Now if you want to do a full set of exciting, dynamic music in a professional venue, it may take anywhere from 5 - 20 years before you're technically ready for that. Factors affecting the length of time to get to that point are 1- the amount of time you spend on daily practice, 2- the quality of your daily practice, and 3- your natural ability. There's a lot that goes into #2, but you don't need to worry about that until you get to the point where you're actually able to practice. Don't even worry about #3. If you (like myself) are not naturally talented, it just means that it might take you 6 years to get to the level that a talented person might reach in 3. If music is that important to you, it can be a lifelong pursuit - there's no need to make it into a race.
posted by tdismukes at 2:56 PM on October 9, 2007
I think most of dhammond's comment is pretty good, but the portion I've just quoted probably overstates the case.
Speaking as a person who started with below-average musical talent and who didn't start playing seriously until my late twenties:
If you have even an average amount of natural talent and can induce yourself to practice on guitar daily in a focused manner:
Within a year, you should be good enough to casually entertain friends & family with a few simple songs in the living room.
Within a couple of years, you can be good enough to do a short set at a coffee house open-mike night. If you have a good voice and you're already comfortable with singing in public, you could be ready for this stage earlier. Your guitar playing will probably just be simple accompaniment, but that's fine for a beginning.
Now if you want to do a full set of exciting, dynamic music in a professional venue, it may take anywhere from 5 - 20 years before you're technically ready for that. Factors affecting the length of time to get to that point are 1- the amount of time you spend on daily practice, 2- the quality of your daily practice, and 3- your natural ability. There's a lot that goes into #2, but you don't need to worry about that until you get to the point where you're actually able to practice. Don't even worry about #3. If you (like myself) are not naturally talented, it just means that it might take you 6 years to get to the level that a talented person might reach in 3. If music is that important to you, it can be a lifelong pursuit - there's no need to make it into a race.
posted by tdismukes at 2:56 PM on October 9, 2007
Response by poster: WOW. Um. I'm a little overwhelmed by the thoughtful responses I've received here, and by the fact that other people could possibly relate to how I feel. I have felt so alone about this and just felt like there is something constitutionally wrong with me. I've overcome a good part of my general self-consciousness and lack of confidence but for this one area, and it really does torment me.
(I'm sorry for the delay in replying to things; the trackpad on my laptop seems to have died and I've only got a half-broken mouse that can barely click... basically I can't select anything more than a word at a time unless I'm lucky. I'll definitely be reflecting and responding more in the days to come.)
flabdablet: My solution was to set the drum kit up in the carpark underneath my workplace, which was in a suburban business area with no houses nearby and no workers around at all after about 7pm, and blaze away at midnight.
Seriously, start with the drums. You will be amazed at what happens to the way you think (and not-think) as you pick them up. The not-think thing is absolutely key - you can't think about what sound you're going to make next; thinking is just too slow.
See, the problem with drums in particular is: I can't translate the rhythm in my head to physical response to rhythmic sound. I feel as though I "understand" rhythm really well intuitively, mentally. I feel like I "get" rhythms... damn, I'm not sure if that will make sense to anyone. But the understanding I'm describing is strictly in my head -- I can not seem to make my arms move the way I need them to to create the noises.
And you know, I don't even think it would necessarily matter that much if I was in an empty building. I would still have the self-consciousness sitting on my shoulder. I would still feel watched, listened to; I guess by my inner critic.
sfkiddo: Do you want to play music or compose it? If you do want to compose, great, but I think you should work on the playing/performing first. Like others on this thread, I sense that you're a paralyzed perfectionist: if you're not going to be immediately brilliant, you feel like you can't do anything.
It's not exactly that I feel I have to be immediately brilliant -- I'm definitely not that self-important! It's just so frustrating to me that I can not execute the things I conceive in my head. It feels like there's a wire disconnected somewhere, that the message from heart and mind can not get through to the parts of my body that need to move.
Oh, and in response to a couple of inquiries: I do want to create my own songs, and that is the goal, but I'd definitely play other people's songs, and have tried to. The other night I blasted The Gossip at the practice space (for the uninitiated, it's a lady-fronted southern soul/rock band with pretty primitive drumming) but I still couldn't make myself play along. I've learned a few songs on guitar -- I'm immensely interested in playing others' songs in my own style -- but I've never done anything more with them but fiddled around whilst sitting on the couch.
Brittanie: For the most part, the difference between creative types and people who want to be creative types is a matter of quantity, not quality. Put out enough crap and something good is guaranteed to shine through.
Yeah, I'm certain of that. In fact my two greatest influences musically are both people who have no quality-control process at all -- they literally record and release (usually online) every song they make. In fact one fella even occasionally embarks on projects like writing and recording an entire song (bass, guitar, drums, vocals) in 20 minutes. He has tonnes of that kind of stuff on his website, and some of it's pretty disposable, but there are gems in there too. Or collecting stuff off the street and writing a song about each item.
I can only imagine that these people grew up in dramatically different families from mine. I... can not express.
wemayfreeze: That being said, I still have trouble when I think other people might be able to hear me. If you're in your practice space, try reminding yourself that they actually don't care at all and are most likely just focused on their own music.
The trick is to get into a headspace where that hyper-critical part of your brain can't go. Some kind of physical exercise could help with that. Run around, go crazy, throw yourself against the wall before you play drums. Remind your body what it's like to not worry about what other people think. I can imagine getting a twofer on drums: bang hard and loud and forever and don't worry about making music and work up a sweat.
I think you're definitely on to something here, except I've yet to identify what kinds of things can take your brain out of that state. For example, in the book Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain, the author gives exercises for making a clear shift between right and left brain thinking, and this helped me immensely in "getting" drawing. I need an analogue for shutting out my self-critique.
You're right about others paying attention to their own stuff, and I totally know it. The reason I wonder if this is an actual phobia is because I know it to be true but I can still sit in the room for hours unable to hit the drums when they are not in the middle of playing too loudly to hear me. (Unfortunately they seem to enjoy talking a lot more than playing.)
erikgrande: It's interesting you feel comfortable with your singing, but not your guitar playing. I'm the exact opposite.
Yeah, I know. It's weird to me too, because singing comes from inside your own body. I guess it's because I can sing. And when I'm nervous I can still sing -- pushing out your breath harder takes away the nervous quiver in your voice -- but when I'm nervous playing guitar or drums I can't properly coordinate, I can't make rhythmic movements anymore, I lose my fine motor skills. It's so frustrating because I can hear (for example) beats in my head and I can even tap them out with parts of my body but I can't make them come from the end of the sticks. Somewhere between mind and hand there is a disconnect.
equalpants: Try making an Album-A-Day.
ALRIGHT. NOW.. This is something that could work for me. This somehow seems like a concrete way of moving forward. I can't really logistically take a day for this, but I can imagine writing a song per session in my practice space for sure. You know, since I first followed this link late last night, I have actually gotten further along in the process of making a song than I have... well I can't remember getting further along or feeling better about it. THANK YOU for this! I think I may have even seen it before, but it's hit me directly where it needed to right now, so I will be giving it a go of some sort.
Oh, and thanks for the tip about Nashville Numbers. I learned music theory as a kid at my organ lessons but this seems wonderfully practical. I'll definitely look into it more. I love that things like this and guitar tablature act to demystify music for the commoner!
--
The only other thing I for sure wanted to mention was about The Artist's Way. I shuddered a bit when I saw it recommended, because I tried reading it back in my teens when I fancied myself a visual artist, and I really, really got turned off by the spiritual aspect of it. I'm one of those people who would reject the same aspect of AA, because it's not how I frame my life at all. I will TRY to go through it again, because it sounds like the concepts are solid and relevant, but I do have such a hard time with pseudo-spiritual stuff.
--
Again - thank you so much, everyone, for the empathy, sympathy, advice and recommendations. Please continue! I feel a whole lot better after having read this. To be truthful I've been a bit burnt about AskMe because so many answers are so flip -- "DTMFA" "Lawyer up" "See a doctor" -- pretty callous in fact, and I really thought no one could possibly relate to this struggle I have. Knowing that even one other person has felt this way and has overcome it in whatever small way and in their time makes a big difference.
I will definitely be updating, too...
coughMeFi long-distance recording collabcough?
posted by loiseau at 10:28 PM on October 9, 2007
(I'm sorry for the delay in replying to things; the trackpad on my laptop seems to have died and I've only got a half-broken mouse that can barely click... basically I can't select anything more than a word at a time unless I'm lucky. I'll definitely be reflecting and responding more in the days to come.)
flabdablet: My solution was to set the drum kit up in the carpark underneath my workplace, which was in a suburban business area with no houses nearby and no workers around at all after about 7pm, and blaze away at midnight.
Seriously, start with the drums. You will be amazed at what happens to the way you think (and not-think) as you pick them up. The not-think thing is absolutely key - you can't think about what sound you're going to make next; thinking is just too slow.
See, the problem with drums in particular is: I can't translate the rhythm in my head to physical response to rhythmic sound. I feel as though I "understand" rhythm really well intuitively, mentally. I feel like I "get" rhythms... damn, I'm not sure if that will make sense to anyone. But the understanding I'm describing is strictly in my head -- I can not seem to make my arms move the way I need them to to create the noises.
And you know, I don't even think it would necessarily matter that much if I was in an empty building. I would still have the self-consciousness sitting on my shoulder. I would still feel watched, listened to; I guess by my inner critic.
sfkiddo: Do you want to play music or compose it? If you do want to compose, great, but I think you should work on the playing/performing first. Like others on this thread, I sense that you're a paralyzed perfectionist: if you're not going to be immediately brilliant, you feel like you can't do anything.
It's not exactly that I feel I have to be immediately brilliant -- I'm definitely not that self-important! It's just so frustrating to me that I can not execute the things I conceive in my head. It feels like there's a wire disconnected somewhere, that the message from heart and mind can not get through to the parts of my body that need to move.
Oh, and in response to a couple of inquiries: I do want to create my own songs, and that is the goal, but I'd definitely play other people's songs, and have tried to. The other night I blasted The Gossip at the practice space (for the uninitiated, it's a lady-fronted southern soul/rock band with pretty primitive drumming) but I still couldn't make myself play along. I've learned a few songs on guitar -- I'm immensely interested in playing others' songs in my own style -- but I've never done anything more with them but fiddled around whilst sitting on the couch.
Brittanie: For the most part, the difference between creative types and people who want to be creative types is a matter of quantity, not quality. Put out enough crap and something good is guaranteed to shine through.
Yeah, I'm certain of that. In fact my two greatest influences musically are both people who have no quality-control process at all -- they literally record and release (usually online) every song they make. In fact one fella even occasionally embarks on projects like writing and recording an entire song (bass, guitar, drums, vocals) in 20 minutes. He has tonnes of that kind of stuff on his website, and some of it's pretty disposable, but there are gems in there too. Or collecting stuff off the street and writing a song about each item.
I can only imagine that these people grew up in dramatically different families from mine. I... can not express.
wemayfreeze: That being said, I still have trouble when I think other people might be able to hear me. If you're in your practice space, try reminding yourself that they actually don't care at all and are most likely just focused on their own music.
The trick is to get into a headspace where that hyper-critical part of your brain can't go. Some kind of physical exercise could help with that. Run around, go crazy, throw yourself against the wall before you play drums. Remind your body what it's like to not worry about what other people think. I can imagine getting a twofer on drums: bang hard and loud and forever and don't worry about making music and work up a sweat.
I think you're definitely on to something here, except I've yet to identify what kinds of things can take your brain out of that state. For example, in the book Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain, the author gives exercises for making a clear shift between right and left brain thinking, and this helped me immensely in "getting" drawing. I need an analogue for shutting out my self-critique.
You're right about others paying attention to their own stuff, and I totally know it. The reason I wonder if this is an actual phobia is because I know it to be true but I can still sit in the room for hours unable to hit the drums when they are not in the middle of playing too loudly to hear me. (Unfortunately they seem to enjoy talking a lot more than playing.)
erikgrande: It's interesting you feel comfortable with your singing, but not your guitar playing. I'm the exact opposite.
Yeah, I know. It's weird to me too, because singing comes from inside your own body. I guess it's because I can sing. And when I'm nervous I can still sing -- pushing out your breath harder takes away the nervous quiver in your voice -- but when I'm nervous playing guitar or drums I can't properly coordinate, I can't make rhythmic movements anymore, I lose my fine motor skills. It's so frustrating because I can hear (for example) beats in my head and I can even tap them out with parts of my body but I can't make them come from the end of the sticks. Somewhere between mind and hand there is a disconnect.
equalpants: Try making an Album-A-Day.
ALRIGHT. NOW.. This is something that could work for me. This somehow seems like a concrete way of moving forward. I can't really logistically take a day for this, but I can imagine writing a song per session in my practice space for sure. You know, since I first followed this link late last night, I have actually gotten further along in the process of making a song than I have... well I can't remember getting further along or feeling better about it. THANK YOU for this! I think I may have even seen it before, but it's hit me directly where it needed to right now, so I will be giving it a go of some sort.
Oh, and thanks for the tip about Nashville Numbers. I learned music theory as a kid at my organ lessons but this seems wonderfully practical. I'll definitely look into it more. I love that things like this and guitar tablature act to demystify music for the commoner!
--
The only other thing I for sure wanted to mention was about The Artist's Way. I shuddered a bit when I saw it recommended, because I tried reading it back in my teens when I fancied myself a visual artist, and I really, really got turned off by the spiritual aspect of it. I'm one of those people who would reject the same aspect of AA, because it's not how I frame my life at all. I will TRY to go through it again, because it sounds like the concepts are solid and relevant, but I do have such a hard time with pseudo-spiritual stuff.
--
Again - thank you so much, everyone, for the empathy, sympathy, advice and recommendations. Please continue! I feel a whole lot better after having read this. To be truthful I've been a bit burnt about AskMe because so many answers are so flip -- "DTMFA" "Lawyer up" "See a doctor" -- pretty callous in fact, and I really thought no one could possibly relate to this struggle I have. Knowing that even one other person has felt this way and has overcome it in whatever small way and in their time makes a big difference.
I will definitely be updating, too...
coughMeFi long-distance recording collabcough?
posted by loiseau at 10:28 PM on October 9, 2007
Response by poster: dhammond: Not echoing what others have said here: It strikes me as a little strange to buy a drum set and pony up for practice space after a few beats on the traps. It seems like you're expectations are a bit high, perhaps because you are in your thirties, don't seem to have much experience and may feel the need to play catch up.
To be brutally honest - you are coming to the game rather late and I would keep your expectations low about what you can reasonably accomplish in the short term. My guess is that if you practice really hard at it (and you have natural talent - which is a BIG "if"), you'll be set to start performing live (with confidence) sometime around your 40th birthday, give or take a few years.
Sorry, I missed this one in my last reply.
No. It simply means that I'm serious and I don't see the point in wasting time thinking about things I want to do and not doing them. Perhaps our life philosophies differ!
As for the latter. Nah, I'm pretty sure if you knew the kind of music I like and the community I'm part of, you wouldn't be suggesting it'll take near a decade to overcome my obstacles and make good music. I know people who have written songs the day they played them at a show. It's a community that values sincerity in expression over instrumental mastery, that is to be sure. For example my friends' duo uses a kids' toy drum kit and it works for them. There's no urgency for me, and looking at this as a huge scary endeavour would only serve to discourage me. It's not scary, people do it all the time, and you don't have to be a musical virtuoso to create -- record or perform -- wonderful music.
posted by loiseau at 10:41 PM on October 9, 2007
To be brutally honest - you are coming to the game rather late and I would keep your expectations low about what you can reasonably accomplish in the short term. My guess is that if you practice really hard at it (and you have natural talent - which is a BIG "if"), you'll be set to start performing live (with confidence) sometime around your 40th birthday, give or take a few years.
Sorry, I missed this one in my last reply.
No. It simply means that I'm serious and I don't see the point in wasting time thinking about things I want to do and not doing them. Perhaps our life philosophies differ!
As for the latter. Nah, I'm pretty sure if you knew the kind of music I like and the community I'm part of, you wouldn't be suggesting it'll take near a decade to overcome my obstacles and make good music. I know people who have written songs the day they played them at a show. It's a community that values sincerity in expression over instrumental mastery, that is to be sure. For example my friends' duo uses a kids' toy drum kit and it works for them. There's no urgency for me, and looking at this as a huge scary endeavour would only serve to discourage me. It's not scary, people do it all the time, and you don't have to be a musical virtuoso to create -- record or perform -- wonderful music.
posted by loiseau at 10:41 PM on October 9, 2007
Several things in your update jump out at me:
I can't translate the rhythm in my head to physical response to rhythmic sound
I can not seem to make my arms move the way I need them to to create the noises
I can not execute the things I conceive in my head ... the message from heart and mind can not get through to the parts of my body that need to move.
I can hear (for example) beats in my head and I can even tap them out with parts of my body but I can't make them come from the end of the sticks. Somewhere between mind and hand there is a disconnect.
At the risk of being Captain Obvious, this is exactly how everyone feels when they start playing a new instrument (I found it particularly frustrating when starting to play the piano). Being able to translate what you hear in your head into musical sounds on your instrument is pretty much what most people would think of as "mastery" and it takes a lot of time and practice before you can do this. Incidentally, this might explain why you don't mind singing - you've been "practicing" using your voice for ~30 years, so you can translate what's in your head into music straight away.
I think there's a good analogy between playing an unfamiliar instrument and speaking a foreign language; in your native tongue (voice) you can have an idea (melody) and immediately say (sing) it. If you're speaking a foreign language (guitar, drums) you can still say (play) anything you can think, but there's a disconnect - you can't do it straight away. You might have to go look up some vocab (chords), or ask a native speaker how to pronounce something. As you get more familiar with the language the "time lag" between having an idea and expressing it becomes shorter and shorter. When you can't notice it, you are fluent in the language (you are improvising on your instrument).
So maybe it would helpful for you to think, "OK, I can't express my musical ideas straight away like Charlie Parker, but maybe I could write down some chords/tab/ryhthms/ideas, or just record myself singing them, and take them to one of my many musical friends for help". The connection between heart and mind and arms is there, contrary to how you feel, but in the early stages of learning an instrument it's a very slow and painstaking one.
Nobody, no matter how brilliant their musical ideas, can express them until they're familiar enough with the instrument, and the way to do that is by learning lots of songs and playing them a lot. When I'm teaching people songs on the guitar, I make a point of offering them different chord shapes, picking patterns, strumming rhythms, etc for the same song, and make them choose; then they end up playing the song slightly differently to me. Hence by the time we finish learning a song, we've effectively made up a new "arrangement". Maybe one of your friends could do something similar for you. I look at this as the first stage in getting someone to express their musical ideas.
posted by primer_dimer at 2:18 AM on October 10, 2007
I can't translate the rhythm in my head to physical response to rhythmic sound
I can not seem to make my arms move the way I need them to to create the noises
I can not execute the things I conceive in my head ... the message from heart and mind can not get through to the parts of my body that need to move.
I can hear (for example) beats in my head and I can even tap them out with parts of my body but I can't make them come from the end of the sticks. Somewhere between mind and hand there is a disconnect.
At the risk of being Captain Obvious, this is exactly how everyone feels when they start playing a new instrument (I found it particularly frustrating when starting to play the piano). Being able to translate what you hear in your head into musical sounds on your instrument is pretty much what most people would think of as "mastery" and it takes a lot of time and practice before you can do this. Incidentally, this might explain why you don't mind singing - you've been "practicing" using your voice for ~30 years, so you can translate what's in your head into music straight away.
I think there's a good analogy between playing an unfamiliar instrument and speaking a foreign language; in your native tongue (voice) you can have an idea (melody) and immediately say (sing) it. If you're speaking a foreign language (guitar, drums) you can still say (play) anything you can think, but there's a disconnect - you can't do it straight away. You might have to go look up some vocab (chords), or ask a native speaker how to pronounce something. As you get more familiar with the language the "time lag" between having an idea and expressing it becomes shorter and shorter. When you can't notice it, you are fluent in the language (you are improvising on your instrument).
So maybe it would helpful for you to think, "OK, I can't express my musical ideas straight away like Charlie Parker, but maybe I could write down some chords/tab/ryhthms/ideas, or just record myself singing them, and take them to one of my many musical friends for help". The connection between heart and mind and arms is there, contrary to how you feel, but in the early stages of learning an instrument it's a very slow and painstaking one.
Nobody, no matter how brilliant their musical ideas, can express them until they're familiar enough with the instrument, and the way to do that is by learning lots of songs and playing them a lot. When I'm teaching people songs on the guitar, I make a point of offering them different chord shapes, picking patterns, strumming rhythms, etc for the same song, and make them choose; then they end up playing the song slightly differently to me. Hence by the time we finish learning a song, we've effectively made up a new "arrangement". Maybe one of your friends could do something similar for you. I look at this as the first stage in getting someone to express their musical ideas.
posted by primer_dimer at 2:18 AM on October 10, 2007
"I can't translate the rhythm in my head to physical response to rhythmic sound
I can not seem to make my arms move the way I need them to to create the noises
I can not execute the things I conceive in my head ... the message from heart and mind can not get through to the parts of my body that need to move."
This is true of everyone! Playing an instrument is dependent on a set of highly developed motor skills. You may be able to hear the sound in your head. You may intellectually know exactly which notes to play or which beats to hit, but until you spend the time doing thousands of repetitions of the fundamental movements involved with your instrument, your body just won't translate that inner knowledge into accurate action. Period.
There are approaches you can take to make your practice time more efficient, so that you might master a given technique with, for example, 20 hours of practice instead of 40. Since your question was about getting yourself to the point where you could emotionally manage to practice at all, I figure it's probably jumping the gun to go into those. Feel free to e-mail if you want suggestions.
"but when I'm nervous playing guitar or drums I can't properly coordinate, I can't make rhythmic movements anymore, I lose my fine motor skills"
That's totally normal as well. When I first started playing on stage, I would lose easily 30-40% of the technical skill that I had when playing songs in my living room. Even playing for my guitar teacher would make me nervous enough to lose a significant portion of my skill.
There are two components to overcoming this. The first is to keep practicing until the motor skills are so burned in that they'll work for you even when you do get nervous. The second is to spend enough time playing in front of other people that you get used to it and you aren't so nervous any more.
"I know people who have written songs the day they played them at a show."
Me too. But remember they played those songs using fundamental skills they built up with years of practice.
"It's a community that values sincerity in expression over instrumental mastery, that is to be sure. For example my friends' duo uses a kids' toy drum kit and it works for them. There's no urgency for me, and looking at this as a huge scary endeavour would only serve to discourage me. It's not scary, people do it all the time, and you don't have to be a musical virtuoso to create -- record or perform -- wonderful music."
That's a great attitude. If you can completely internalize it, that should be the antidote to your fear of playing in front of others.
posted by tdismukes at 3:41 AM on October 10, 2007
I can not seem to make my arms move the way I need them to to create the noises
I can not execute the things I conceive in my head ... the message from heart and mind can not get through to the parts of my body that need to move."
This is true of everyone! Playing an instrument is dependent on a set of highly developed motor skills. You may be able to hear the sound in your head. You may intellectually know exactly which notes to play or which beats to hit, but until you spend the time doing thousands of repetitions of the fundamental movements involved with your instrument, your body just won't translate that inner knowledge into accurate action. Period.
There are approaches you can take to make your practice time more efficient, so that you might master a given technique with, for example, 20 hours of practice instead of 40. Since your question was about getting yourself to the point where you could emotionally manage to practice at all, I figure it's probably jumping the gun to go into those. Feel free to e-mail if you want suggestions.
"but when I'm nervous playing guitar or drums I can't properly coordinate, I can't make rhythmic movements anymore, I lose my fine motor skills"
That's totally normal as well. When I first started playing on stage, I would lose easily 30-40% of the technical skill that I had when playing songs in my living room. Even playing for my guitar teacher would make me nervous enough to lose a significant portion of my skill.
There are two components to overcoming this. The first is to keep practicing until the motor skills are so burned in that they'll work for you even when you do get nervous. The second is to spend enough time playing in front of other people that you get used to it and you aren't so nervous any more.
"I know people who have written songs the day they played them at a show."
Me too. But remember they played those songs using fundamental skills they built up with years of practice.
"It's a community that values sincerity in expression over instrumental mastery, that is to be sure. For example my friends' duo uses a kids' toy drum kit and it works for them. There's no urgency for me, and looking at this as a huge scary endeavour would only serve to discourage me. It's not scary, people do it all the time, and you don't have to be a musical virtuoso to create -- record or perform -- wonderful music."
That's a great attitude. If you can completely internalize it, that should be the antidote to your fear of playing in front of others.
posted by tdismukes at 3:41 AM on October 10, 2007
I forgot a mantra that has helped me in all fields of life: if something is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.
posted by i_am_joe's_spleen at 3:19 PM on October 10, 2007 [1 favorite]
posted by i_am_joe's_spleen at 3:19 PM on October 10, 2007 [1 favorite]
I can't translate the rhythm in my head to physical response to rhythmic sound. I feel as though I "understand" rhythm really well intuitively, mentally. I feel like I "get" rhythms... damn, I'm not sure if that will make sense to anyone. But the understanding I'm describing is strictly in my head -- I can not seem to make my arms move the way I need them to to create the noises.
That's exactly what I was talking about when I was saying that thinking was too slow.
You need to get to a place where not only do you "get" rhythm, you're in the rhythm. That needs practiced motor skills, as mentioned above, but it also needs the ability to turn off the thinkamus while you're playing, and do everything with the feelamus. And it's not going to just happen; it is going to take making an awful lot of awful noises before you even get close. But that's OK! Just don't make pretentious awful noises! Make "I am a serious beginner, taking beginning seriously" noises instead.
You need to develop the skill of telling your inner critic to fuck off and die, because your inner critic is made of thinking, and your inner critic will never ever learn to play drums regardless of how much grief it gives you. That snivelling little scum has got no motor skills whatsoever. The best way to deal with it is to bore it until it shuts up and gets out of your way.
So, you need to get your motor skills happening, while boring your inner critic to tears. The best way I know to do that is to get a decent mechanical metronome (not an electronic one, they're useless - you need to be able to see that swinging upside-down pendulum, and hear genuine acoustic clicks and properly decaying dings, not cheap-ass electronic simulacra) and just sit behind the kit trying to play only what the metronome is playing, exactly in time with the bastard thing. Do this with one limb at a time, for a start. Probably the best limb to get right first is your hi-hat foot. Wax on, wax off. This will bore your inner critic absolutely shitless :-)
You want to be using your wrists and ankles, too; not your elbows and knees. Get the best drummer you know to show you the right way to hold your sticks and move your wrists (drummers are friendly and will want to help you out if they think you're serious).
You will become truly amazed at the creativity your body displays in finding ways to drift out of time... But it's a meditative thing, and a beautiful thing, and once you've put in a few tens of hours with the metronome, don't be surprised to find yourself just naturally starting to jam with it.
After you can keep time with a metronome with either hand and either foot, it's time to start learning rudiments. Do all of the exercises in your favourite Learn Drumming book, in order, with the metronome keeping time, until you are weeping with boredom. Then transcend boredom and just keep concentrating on covering the metronome's clicks exactly with your taps. Exactly. Work on developing zero tolerance for timing error. This is very, very, very hard work, so take it seriously. If it seems to come easy, tape yourself, and play it back; if you hear metronome clicks and drum taps, you have more work to do.
Playing the simplest possible rhythm perfectly requires mastery of playing the simplest possible rhythm. You can't get there by mastering any other skill, but you need to get there before you can master anything else. Listen to Meg White. She has it down.
I didn't start with a metronome. As a result, I had to spend about a year unlearning crappy habits, some of which are still very strong. Trust the metronome. It will school you up good.
posted by flabdablet at 7:21 AM on October 11, 2007 [1 favorite]
That's exactly what I was talking about when I was saying that thinking was too slow.
You need to get to a place where not only do you "get" rhythm, you're in the rhythm. That needs practiced motor skills, as mentioned above, but it also needs the ability to turn off the thinkamus while you're playing, and do everything with the feelamus. And it's not going to just happen; it is going to take making an awful lot of awful noises before you even get close. But that's OK! Just don't make pretentious awful noises! Make "I am a serious beginner, taking beginning seriously" noises instead.
You need to develop the skill of telling your inner critic to fuck off and die, because your inner critic is made of thinking, and your inner critic will never ever learn to play drums regardless of how much grief it gives you. That snivelling little scum has got no motor skills whatsoever. The best way to deal with it is to bore it until it shuts up and gets out of your way.
So, you need to get your motor skills happening, while boring your inner critic to tears. The best way I know to do that is to get a decent mechanical metronome (not an electronic one, they're useless - you need to be able to see that swinging upside-down pendulum, and hear genuine acoustic clicks and properly decaying dings, not cheap-ass electronic simulacra) and just sit behind the kit trying to play only what the metronome is playing, exactly in time with the bastard thing. Do this with one limb at a time, for a start. Probably the best limb to get right first is your hi-hat foot. Wax on, wax off. This will bore your inner critic absolutely shitless :-)
You want to be using your wrists and ankles, too; not your elbows and knees. Get the best drummer you know to show you the right way to hold your sticks and move your wrists (drummers are friendly and will want to help you out if they think you're serious).
You will become truly amazed at the creativity your body displays in finding ways to drift out of time... But it's a meditative thing, and a beautiful thing, and once you've put in a few tens of hours with the metronome, don't be surprised to find yourself just naturally starting to jam with it.
After you can keep time with a metronome with either hand and either foot, it's time to start learning rudiments. Do all of the exercises in your favourite Learn Drumming book, in order, with the metronome keeping time, until you are weeping with boredom. Then transcend boredom and just keep concentrating on covering the metronome's clicks exactly with your taps. Exactly. Work on developing zero tolerance for timing error. This is very, very, very hard work, so take it seriously. If it seems to come easy, tape yourself, and play it back; if you hear metronome clicks and drum taps, you have more work to do.
Playing the simplest possible rhythm perfectly requires mastery of playing the simplest possible rhythm. You can't get there by mastering any other skill, but you need to get there before you can master anything else. Listen to Meg White. She has it down.
I didn't start with a metronome. As a result, I had to spend about a year unlearning crappy habits, some of which are still very strong. Trust the metronome. It will school you up good.
posted by flabdablet at 7:21 AM on October 11, 2007 [1 favorite]
Response by poster: Back in the practice space tonight. I made a small breakthrough -- realised when I muted my drums I could play along to music unselfconsciously. Next I go I'll take in my practice pads (currently here at home) -- this time I just took a blanket out of my kick drum.
It felt really good. I was mostly concentrating on the snare and kick drum just to get comfortable. Next time I'll branch out more and try to get faster. Baby steps, baby steps. I was pleasantly surprised that I actually could play in rhythm, and my triplets were solid. I guess the awkwardness had something to do with the inhibition.
I've still got a few songs roiling around in my head but I'm really keen on getting more relaxed with the drums now that I've made a tiny bit of headway. I do still plan to record though.
I sure wish this wasn't so difficult for me. The first hour I was there I did the same damn thing as last time, and again was teary-eyed. I still try, though, because it's imperative. I can't explain but it is. And now I have a bit more hope than I did yesterday... onward and upward, hopefully.
posted by loiseau at 8:09 PM on October 15, 2007
It felt really good. I was mostly concentrating on the snare and kick drum just to get comfortable. Next time I'll branch out more and try to get faster. Baby steps, baby steps. I was pleasantly surprised that I actually could play in rhythm, and my triplets were solid. I guess the awkwardness had something to do with the inhibition.
I've still got a few songs roiling around in my head but I'm really keen on getting more relaxed with the drums now that I've made a tiny bit of headway. I do still plan to record though.
I sure wish this wasn't so difficult for me. The first hour I was there I did the same damn thing as last time, and again was teary-eyed. I still try, though, because it's imperative. I can't explain but it is. And now I have a bit more hope than I did yesterday... onward and upward, hopefully.
posted by loiseau at 8:09 PM on October 15, 2007
What a great thread. I haven't read every word though so if this was already mentioned forgive me.
You:
Pretty much the only thing I don't mind performing in front of others is singing -- I really love to sing and I don't mind being heard at that.
Me:
Take singing lessons and work on the most beautiful instrument of all...your voice.
posted by snowjoe at 5:27 AM on October 16, 2007
You:
Pretty much the only thing I don't mind performing in front of others is singing -- I really love to sing and I don't mind being heard at that.
Me:
Take singing lessons and work on the most beautiful instrument of all...your voice.
posted by snowjoe at 5:27 AM on October 16, 2007
I just found this today, and even though you've gotten very good responses already, I'd like to chime in:
You know, often when you ask people why they chose their profession, they are able to tell you in a second. "To help people". "To make money". "Because I've always been fascinated by the way living organisms work" - you get the idea.
The thing is, there is one answer I've only heard from musicians, and a lot of musicians I know from very different backgrounds and cultures agree: they didn't choose music, music "chose" them. I know it sounds corny and cheesy and bad, but a lot of musicians say that. They can't help being inclined to making music.
And the relationship with music is always complicated, for hundreds of reasons. Me, and a lot of my musician friends have taken up music, then quit. Then "relapsed" and started making music again. After a while, the conclusion a lot of us arrive to is the same: it's not a matter of talent, the right conditions, the proper environment or anything like that. Music is something we just can't help making.
Trying not to make music, to focus on other things, to "leave it to the people who actually have the talent" is pointless. So, just get on it. Make music. You'll hate it. Then you'll love it. It will always drive you crazy. That is why it's worth it.
You'll have every reason to quit, and you will never be able to. And that is fine. Music is like that.
posted by micayetoca at 2:40 PM on October 21, 2007
You know, often when you ask people why they chose their profession, they are able to tell you in a second. "To help people". "To make money". "Because I've always been fascinated by the way living organisms work" - you get the idea.
The thing is, there is one answer I've only heard from musicians, and a lot of musicians I know from very different backgrounds and cultures agree: they didn't choose music, music "chose" them. I know it sounds corny and cheesy and bad, but a lot of musicians say that. They can't help being inclined to making music.
And the relationship with music is always complicated, for hundreds of reasons. Me, and a lot of my musician friends have taken up music, then quit. Then "relapsed" and started making music again. After a while, the conclusion a lot of us arrive to is the same: it's not a matter of talent, the right conditions, the proper environment or anything like that. Music is something we just can't help making.
Trying not to make music, to focus on other things, to "leave it to the people who actually have the talent" is pointless. So, just get on it. Make music. You'll hate it. Then you'll love it. It will always drive you crazy. That is why it's worth it.
You'll have every reason to quit, and you will never be able to. And that is fine. Music is like that.
posted by micayetoca at 2:40 PM on October 21, 2007
Sorry, I got tangled up in words and I didn't answer your question. My opinion (and what I tried to say before) is that you are not phobic. It's just that relationships with music are complicated, for many reasons. And yeah, sometimes (some of the time) it hurts. And one thinks it shouldn't but it does.
I don't think you have a problem, I think you are just "infected" with the disease of music, and that's the only thing you need to get going. Time and perseverance will do the rest.
posted by micayetoca at 3:49 PM on October 21, 2007
I don't think you have a problem, I think you are just "infected" with the disease of music, and that's the only thing you need to get going. Time and perseverance will do the rest.
posted by micayetoca at 3:49 PM on October 21, 2007
Response by poster: Oh, hello there! This isn't my blog or anything, but I thought I'd update on my progress.
I took more lessons. (I've recently put them on hold because I'm broke.)
I still have a hard time. I've made progress but it has been very slow, and whether or not I play depends on my mood on a given day.
Things that have helped:
So, as you can tell, I'm still a neurotic mess about it. But I can tell you some good things.
I've gotten a bit better at playing.
When I do manage to play, I usually really enjoy it.
Once in a while, I think, for a brief moment it kind of sounds like I know what I'm doing.
Also, I put a broken heart on my kick drum head in silver tape. So at least my kit looks cute.
posted by loiseau at 10:25 PM on January 29, 2008
I took more lessons. (I've recently put them on hold because I'm broke.)
I still have a hard time. I've made progress but it has been very slow, and whether or not I play depends on my mood on a given day.
Things that have helped:
- playing while a full band plays downstairs
- playing music on the PA (both to block my racket and to play along with, at different times or simultaneously)
- wearing sound-blocking headphones (I was borrowing a pair made for drummers, but I just bought a construction-yellow pair at Home Depot.)
- wearing my MP3 player (to play along with)
- Best: playing music on the PA, wearing sound-blocking headphones AND listening to my MP3 player, while a band is playing downstairs.
So, as you can tell, I'm still a neurotic mess about it. But I can tell you some good things.
I've gotten a bit better at playing.
When I do manage to play, I usually really enjoy it.
Once in a while, I think, for a brief moment it kind of sounds like I know what I'm doing.
Also, I put a broken heart on my kick drum head in silver tape. So at least my kit looks cute.
posted by loiseau at 10:25 PM on January 29, 2008
This thread is closed to new comments.
If you think someone might hear you, you can make up some defensive lyrics to sing with the music. Like this:
this is the terrible song
it certainly is very long
everything about it is wrong
but it is my terrible song
posted by lemuria at 8:11 PM on October 8, 2007 [2 favorites]