Reid Rosefelt
Well-known member
I was preparing to do an album of new songs, so I invited a friend to listen to the ones I was working on. Some he liked, some he didn't, but one he was nuts about. I told him about the changes I wanted to make, but this seemed to pain him. He didn't want anything changed, he loved it so much. So that became the first song I produced. As I worked on the album and got a few friends to listen, I gradually realized that harsh critique wasn't the biggest problem for me--it was the praise. Turning my attention to songs other people liked was just another way of looking to others for validation.
And you know? The one new song I don't like to listen to is the song my friend loved. I listen to everything, including fragments of songs that were never finished, but not that fully produced song.
And it made me remember a story from my life. A very hard lesson. For the first time, I decided to never ask for critique on my songs.
If you'll forgive me, here's the story:
I once made a short film that co-starred the late actress/filmmaker Adrienne Shelly ("Waitress") I was in awe of her as a writer, so shortly before we started shooting, I asked her to give me notes. Right on the spot she started improvising scenes that I thought were funnier than mine. I'd worked on my script for months, but I accepted her notes completely. She had made my script so much funnier!
A few weeks later, she's watching me direct one of the scenes featuring her new dialogue. And she says, "oh no, that's not how I heard it." And I thought, "fine, this is my movie. I'm the director."
When it's done, the film goes out to some festivals and screenings and is a total dud. If I had made a drama, maybe I could argue that the audience didn't get it, but with a comedy, if there are no laughs, it sucks.
Suffering through all the screenings, I realized that the jokes that weren't working were her jokes, not mine. They might have worked if she directed the movie, but her sense of humor wasn't mine. And therefore the failure also wasn't totally mine. Through my lack of confidence, I had robbed myself of the lesson of finding out whether I could direct a funny comedy or not. And I'd gone broke doing it.
Every time I saw the film, I got sadder, and eventually I wouldn't let it be shown any more. The way I saw it, the failure wasn't the film. I could have lived with that. The failure was me not believing in myself. I was ashamed. I knew I shouldn't ever let that happen again.
But of course I did exactly that last year. It's lonely writing songs, so I played some of them to friends to get a reaction. After two listens they'd give me advice about something I'd spent two months on. Some people never responded to my mp3s at all, which made me worry. All of the advice impacted what I thought about my songs, which ones I moved forward on and which ones I pushed to the side.
I realize that a lot of people make good use of critique and make their songs better. That works for them, and that's fine. Everybody has their own process.
I have been working since last September on a five-song EP. This will be the first time I have ever put any songs on streaming services. I've never done this before. This is costing a lot of money, with my singer, mixer, and the occasional musician.
I want to be proud of the result. And I never want to listen to it years from now and wish I did one of the songs differently.
And you know? The one new song I don't like to listen to is the song my friend loved. I listen to everything, including fragments of songs that were never finished, but not that fully produced song.
And it made me remember a story from my life. A very hard lesson. For the first time, I decided to never ask for critique on my songs.
If you'll forgive me, here's the story:
I once made a short film that co-starred the late actress/filmmaker Adrienne Shelly ("Waitress") I was in awe of her as a writer, so shortly before we started shooting, I asked her to give me notes. Right on the spot she started improvising scenes that I thought were funnier than mine. I'd worked on my script for months, but I accepted her notes completely. She had made my script so much funnier!
A few weeks later, she's watching me direct one of the scenes featuring her new dialogue. And she says, "oh no, that's not how I heard it." And I thought, "fine, this is my movie. I'm the director."
When it's done, the film goes out to some festivals and screenings and is a total dud. If I had made a drama, maybe I could argue that the audience didn't get it, but with a comedy, if there are no laughs, it sucks.
Suffering through all the screenings, I realized that the jokes that weren't working were her jokes, not mine. They might have worked if she directed the movie, but her sense of humor wasn't mine. And therefore the failure also wasn't totally mine. Through my lack of confidence, I had robbed myself of the lesson of finding out whether I could direct a funny comedy or not. And I'd gone broke doing it.
Every time I saw the film, I got sadder, and eventually I wouldn't let it be shown any more. The way I saw it, the failure wasn't the film. I could have lived with that. The failure was me not believing in myself. I was ashamed. I knew I shouldn't ever let that happen again.
But of course I did exactly that last year. It's lonely writing songs, so I played some of them to friends to get a reaction. After two listens they'd give me advice about something I'd spent two months on. Some people never responded to my mp3s at all, which made me worry. All of the advice impacted what I thought about my songs, which ones I moved forward on and which ones I pushed to the side.
I realize that a lot of people make good use of critique and make their songs better. That works for them, and that's fine. Everybody has their own process.
I have been working since last September on a five-song EP. This will be the first time I have ever put any songs on streaming services. I've never done this before. This is costing a lot of money, with my singer, mixer, and the occasional musician.
I want to be proud of the result. And I never want to listen to it years from now and wish I did one of the songs differently.
