A Truly Hilarious Disappointment
Dear reader,
Let’s not talk of the enormous inconsistencies and long gaps in my writing. My apologies would be boring and self-indulgent. If you are here it is a miracle and a blessing I won’t weigh down with self-deprecation in the hopes of absolving myself of some non-existent offense. Now that we’ve talked about what we’re not talking about…
I am comically beside myself trying to finish an album titled Is This Forgiveness? promised to be released in September of last year. Turns out I’ve written songs outside my skill level. I’ve never claimed to be much more than a mediocre guitar player. I often say I’m a vocalist first. And yet I’ve persisted in writing and performing for 10 years now, producing one and a half albums, dozens and dozens of songs, and gigging a variety of shows, some of which felt above my pay grade, all while accompanying myself on guitar. And now I’m faced with an intriguing new obstacle as month after month I fail to finish what I started with this album. Hours and hours have led me to the uncomfortable conclusion that my guitar playing cannot produce acceptable recordings of these songs I’ve written. I wrote them with my fingers, my sense of rhythm, my non-existent music theory. And yet, I play them so poorly when recording I can barely stand to listen back. What a truly hilarious disappointment. I feel fluent and authentic when playing them live, in the living room or at a performance, but it simply does not translate. uncompelling and clumsy are the words that come to mind.
Some folks find it endearing when I cannot name the key or the chords of a song I’ve written. Sometimes I even step outside of myself and find it sweet and folksy. Not today. not sweet. funny yes, but not fun. At the moment and consistently throughout the TWO AND A HALF DECADES of playing guitar (hours and hours of playing) I feel sad at my lack of discipline and motivation to move to the next level. Thankfully most of the time I’m in the first head space: this is what I’ve got with where I am and what I like— I hope you like it too.
Except now the “what I’ve got with where I am” is producing a result that I do not like. I need help.
I’ll figure it out.
But I like sharing amusing things and I find this deeply funny. Up until this point I’ve preferred to play my originals and even many covers myself precisely because I liked the slight mess of it. I like when things wobble a bit. But now, for what I believe is the first time in my life, the house is trashed and I’m face planting! The mess is just mess and the wobble quickly topples me over.
Her eyes were too big for my stomach. She bit off more than she could chew. Sooner or later it’ll catch up with her! And indeed they are, I did, and it has. I’ve written songs that (gasp!) I want played tidier, cleaner, more proficiently. Can anyone relate? Is this funny?!
Anyhow, what a relief to laugh at disappointment. It’s a miracle to continuously fall and not get broken, to be limited in something you passionately love and feel mostly amused, even content.
Until Soon,
Remona Jeannine