When there is no enemy within, the enemies outside cannot hurt you.
~African Proverb
Let’s be honest here: writing and performing your own original songs is terrifying. Take everything that’s scary about public speaking and multiply that by ten.
Most people confine their performances to the shower, the bathroom mirror, and wistful daydreams forever. And with good reason: it’s scary to perform. The first few minutes especially are intense.
For songwriters, though, fear often enters the picture long before they take the stage.
Dealing with self-doubt as a songwriter
As artists, each of us deals with an inner heckler on a daily basis. If you’ve ever experienced this (and I think you have), you already know that this heckler:
- is unimpressed by all the songs you’ve written so far
- scorns any song idea that crosses your mind
- doubts whether you’ve got what it takes to succeed
- urges you to give up.
This heckler occasionally even speaks aloud—borrowing your mouth to mumble apologetic excuses at an open mic before you’ve even started your first song.
What you need to know is that self-doubt is entirely normal, and there are tricks for working around it—free writing sessions are one quick bypass that you can begin right away. Keep in mind that while you’re rewriting songs, it’s beneficial to question every line and word choice—but while you’re struggling to finish a first draft, picking nits will stunt your song’s growth.
“But how do I know if I have what it takes?”
Sorry, but this one’s impossible to answer. I don’t know what your goals are, and I can’t foresee the future.
I can listen to your music, study your lyric sheets, observe your stage presence, and give you with feedback on what’s working well and what needs more work—but I can’t in good conscience pretend to know what your future will bring.
If I had to choose a few traits of songwriters that I admire, I’d say they’re persistent, they push on in spite of self-doubt, they work hard, and they’ve found ways to be unique—to stand out from the crowd.
Don’t twist yourself in knots by placing high stakes on any one song, album, or performance. If you’re too needy and desperate for validation from outside yourself, you’ll end up being really irritated and depressed by any little thing that contradicts your efforts. Instead, you should view any discouragement as a chance to improve your art. If you can do that, if you can set ego aside and work on your skills and work on your songs when they need to be worked on, you’re bulletproof.
Nobody starts with all the equipment needed for success. Every skill of songwriting is learned.
Stay focused, aim high, and be kind to yourself when your best isn’t quite as good as you hoped. There’s always another gig, another blank notebook. And—best of all—you can always revise whatever needs revision.
Confession
I’ve written at least a dozen songs that would make you weep with boredom. I’ve given awkward, off-key performances and had panic attacks onstage. I’ve messed up, freaked out, and gone home with my tail between my legs at least a dozen times. I feel slightly sick just thinking about it. But I’ve still gotten steadily better, simply because I love the process of writing songs—and I love learning more.
No one’s going to give you a laurel wreath that will suddenly take away the chance of failure. There’s no magical talisman, no blessing that’s going to excuse you from the risk of messing up. There’s no stage in the sky where guitars are always in tune, microphones always work, CDs sell like candy, and your lyric notebook is illuminated by the light of its own halo.
You’ll have to work down here in the dark with the rest of the mortals.
Applause doesn’t relieve doubt
You are always going to wonder whether applause is genuine. You’re going to wonder whether your friends and family really like your music, or whether they’re just being supportive and humoring you.
Early on, when you only have a few fans who believe in you, you’ll fret that no one’s listening. Later, when you’ve attracted hundreds or thousands of listeners, you’ll fret that you have such a large audience. Every mistake is amplified when 10,000 pairs of ears are pointed at you.
Doubt doesn’t vanish with success—it just switches guises.
Where confidence comes from
- Rehearsal and practice
- Experience performing
- Study of song craft, voice lessons, guitar lessons, performance classes, etc.
- An adventurous spirit
- Pushing at the edges of your comfort zones
- Writing lyrics/composing music that you deeply feel and believe in
- Lots and lots of feigned confidence while waiting for the real thing
Over time, with enough skill, knowledge, and repetition, the scary aspects of songwriting do get easier. Stage fright and other anxieties never truly go away; you just learn over time not to let them deter you.
Eventually you reach a tipping point where skill and courage prevail—so if you’re not there yet, keep working hard and don’t give up.
War stories
Let’s use the comment space to trade stories of bombed gigs and other temporary setbacks, shall we? Ahh, catharsis…
Nicholas Tozier
I’ll go first.
As I mentioned, I bombed my first attempt at publicly singing. In front of a packed pub, my girlfriend of the time, who was an amazing professional musician, and my best friend. Everyone clapped very encouragingly but I am fully aware that I sucked.
I tried to sing “Folsom Prison Blues” an octave too low, for one thing. Yes. An OCTAVE TOO LOW.
Then, to mix it up, I threw in a cover of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” in which I forgot all of the chords.
I got through it and by the end of the second song my stage fright entirely subsided. Just in time to scuttle out of view so the next act could take their turn.
No harm done.
Liam
When I was in a band last year, we played a cover of californication, It was our first performance so we wanted to do a chilled easy song. Anyway, at the solo the drummer completely backed out and just stopped playing (not how we practiced it) so there I was alone on guitar (we had no bass player either) playing the solo, naturally I panicked a little and made a mistake. The drummer came back in eventually and we pulled it off…sorta
Nicholas Tozier
Those kinds of situations are really tough–when suddenly bandmates just stop playing and you’re forced to pick up all the slack.
You did the brave and correct thing by carrying on. It takes guts to keep playing in that kind of predicament, but it’s the best option really. Great job.
Mona
Oh, i had plenty of performance fails. It didn’t feel that bad back then. Now that I’m all on my own i’m mess up terribly when i’m being watched while i play. it suuucks.
Nicholas Tozier
Just keep rehearsing and keep playing in front of people, Mona! It’s normal to sound better in your rehearsals than you do live. Nervousness will cause that.
You might also want to record yourself playing–either audio or video–so that you can see what you actually sound like while playing. Sometimes mistakes feel big to us but aren’t actually obvious to the audience at all. Recording yourself and listening later on, you might find that the mistake was barely noticeable. 🙂
Mona
yeah, that’s what I thought, thanks for the advice.
Nicholas Tozier
Anytime! Let me know how it turns out. 🙂
Mona
*messing up
Ruthgree
How about doing a much-rehearsed showcase, full band and backup singers, and forgetting the first line of the first song, with my dad elbowing my publicist and asking, “WHY is she doing THAT?” as if I had PLANNED to go blank and stand there looking stricken. I have since learned to scat with maximum coolness until the lyrics return…
I was playing a round at the Bluebird with a hugely successful songwriter, and the whole evening had been magical, wonderful, and I’d played all 8 songs I rehearsed. And then one of the writers said, “Hey, we’ve got time for one more song each”…and I picked a fast one I couldn’t play well. Oh well. That was when I was just picking up guitar again, so I forgave myself.
If you don’t have failures and nervousness and sloppiness and mistakes, you’re not taking enough risks or stretching as must as you could be.
Nicholas Tozier
Oh man! That must’ve been nerve-wracking.
That’s why I sometimes keep a sheet of first lines around when I’m playing a set list. 😛