I’m sure you’ve all heard about my newest musical endeavor, The Kalamazooligans. If you haven’t had the pleasure of being trapped in a car with me in the last week or so, allow me to show you our first single. It’s…interesting.
Following the “success” of “What’s in a Name?”, the members of the project started cooking up a ridiculous, over-the-top twelve minute monster song that essentially paints me as this benevolent, chaotic musical goddess known as the BEAT MOTHER who has taken all these misfits under her wing and gave them purpose and, perhaps most importantly, sick ass beats. It started as a joke, but it’s a huge role to step into, especially since, between me and you…
I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.
I am not a Certified Audio Engineer™ nor do I have any proper training aside from one semester in the media production program at the local university, which I subsequently had to drop out of due to financial reasons. I have no business calling myself a “music producer” or “sound technician” or “audio engineer” or even “person who vaguely knows what they’re doing with a digital audio workstation.” In short, I feel like a fraud. An imposter.
Surely you’ve heard of imposter syndrome, that awful feeling that you don’t actually deserve to be perceived as “good” at the thing you’re known for, even despite whatever achievements you may have in that field. My old band, Syrin, had a pretty dope song about the subject, although I don’t have a link to it anywhere. Hell, I’ll probably write a song about it myself. It makes for great writing material, but it sure is hell to live through. Frankly, I don’t feel like I deserve the title of “beat mother.” I don’t feel like I deserve to teach music. Half of the time, I don’t even feel like it’s my right to play music.
But I’m learning to just do it anyways. Do the damn thing.
That’s the difference. That’s what separates the men from the boys, the women from the girls, and the grown-up nonbinary folks from the wee enbies. Maybe it’ll be uncomfortable at first, and maybe you’ll embarrass yourself a little. Do it anyways. You’ll never improve if you don’t try.
You can’t call yourself a musician or a writer or an artist or anything if you don’t do the thing. That is the crucial part of the equation. I can call myself a football player, but throw me onto the field and I’m useless because I’ve never done the work. But here’s the cool thing — there’s a very low barrier for entry into a lot of interests. If you wanna learn guitar, all you really need is a guitar. But you have to, you know, practice the guitar. Then, that’s when magic happens. That’s when you’ll start to feel that sense of being an imposter fade away. “Doing the thing” is the mortal enemy of imposter syndrome because it gives you the power to stare it down in the face and say “Well actually, I can call myself a musician because I am playing music.”
You don’t need a fancy degree for most things if you’ve got the fortitude to seek the knowledge yourself. Allow yourself to explore stuff that interests you and learn a thing or two. Most of what I’ve learned about music production, I’ve learned by dicking around in various digital audio workstations. Maybe a formal education would make me a stronger producer, but I’m not going to let my lack of professional experience keep me from already doing what I love to do. That’s where the word “amateur” comes from, actually — the Latin root for “love.” It’s not about making money or garnering fame. Amateurs do things simply because they love to do them, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Being an amateur doesn’t make you an imposter — it makes you someone who is in love with the act of learning itself.
Unless your interest is brain surgery, you shouldn’t need formal training to dabble in the things that fascinate you. In the immortal words of Nike and/or Shia LaBeouf, just do it.
JESSA JOYCE 