It was when the leaves changed color. It was when the sea of green became overwhelmed with raucous reds, glittering golds, and burnt browns. That was the first time he saw her.
The conversation always goes the same way. Our friends, our family, they eventually say something along the lines of “You guys are pretty good, I bet if you wrote songs that were more mainstream, you could make it.”
First of all, that’s assuming we haven’t “made it” and what is “making it” anyway? So often in the music industry, we are constantly aware of the ones who have “made it.” Their videos are full of gold chains, models, fancy cars. They make money hand over fist and have crews of a hundred people making sure their every photo, blog, article, makes them appear to be super human. Yet their songs? Their lyrics? Almost always the same regurgitated fluff.
As a singer-songwriter for me, each song is a mini-adventure in self-expression. Typically spanning just a few days from inception to release into the world. That is the reality of it, so my approach is to honor that, and especially resist the temptation to contrive into something artificially grand, or to morph into some sort of a product aimed at securing commercial return.