Blog Posts

What is a song?

Music played through a speaker does not sound the same as music played through headphones; however, this does not create hesitation when a song is to be identified. Played out loud, through headphones, through car speakers, or even live by physical instruments, one quickly latches onto a sense of familiarity when their favorite song plays.
A mathematician might say, “A song is identified up to natural equivalence,” as were the musician to play a wrong note at a non-crucial moment, it would be dramatic in that moment to suggest an entirely different song is being played.
Let us now draw a distinction between a song and an instance of a song. Emotionally, it feels as though this settles the dispute. An instance of a song is the familiar concept: a recording on a CD, a live performance, a cover, etc. However, the excited energy which pushes the concept of an “instance of a song” into clarity simultaneously pushes the concept of a “song” into abstraction. The song becomes a theoretical object, and an instance of a song becomes a physical realization of its Platonic counterpart.
Other examples of pairings between theoretical objects and their physical counterparts are kindness paired with an act of kindness, an artistic experience paired with an artwork, or indeed the number five paired with five rocks.
Where this becomes most interesting is in the mind of a composer. How does one compose when what they create is not what they are driven by? Explicitly, composer C does not create a song but instead creates an instance of a song, so how ought C be driven?
The answer begins with a shift in perspective: one ought not forge a song but instead ought raise a song. Indeed, whether music is created or discovered is not known, but it is my contention that in either case, the music should feel as though it was discovered. A good test is to see if it feels as though somebody else wrote it. Indeed, a creation born in a moment of true flow will be fascinating to that same craftsman at a later point.
Thus, to become a good composer is to become a good parent. A good parent patiently listens and follows their child’s interests without judgment or concern for how that parent feels about the particular activity. In exactly the same way, a good composer does not write metal because metal is cool but instead allows the song to find itself through patient listening.
Where, in that case, does one begin when writing a song? The answer is that the process has already started. In fact, it started long ago. Those who are compelled to compose have musical ideas already inside them, but they are covered in many layers of one’s own mind’s confusion and lack of self-awareness. Moreover, the musical idea is young. In fact, it is but an infant, so any ideas of its future are projected hopes from our own weak minds and thus must be ignored. Again, the job of the composer is to be a good parent.
Obdurate begins with a blank score. A grand staff, piano. Excellent musical notation software must be chosen. The correct choice is Guitar Pro. A novelty amongst certain communities, but this program is cheap, efficient, intuitive, and the sounds are excellent.
First come chords. This, by far, is the most important part of the process. Beautiful chords have the power to generate emotion even when played in block patterns, with no sensible timing, on an overly digitalized piece of software. Never fall into the misbelief that having good-quality sounds or instruments is crucial for good-quality composition. The opening chords and oboe melody of A Metric Based on Insects have almost identical emotional pull when played on Guitar Pro as when played from the album (where the quality of the tones is higher).
Beyond this is years of developing the skill of parenthood. Listening back to the block chords may call for attention to harmonic tempo, a rhythm, a melody, an extension, a retraction, a different tone, a layer, a sample, compression, equalization, spoken word, invisible lyrics, etc. One follows one’s best judgment of decision. The song does not know of these concepts. It is the job of the composer to offer, in the same way that a child may not know of the concept of tennis, it is up to the parent to offer such a pastime.
The most important part of the process is to enjoy the challenge of not knowing how to create the sound that you are after. As a concrete example, Comic Book Channel required guitar recordings (in fact, the entire album did in the end), and I do not play guitar. This is not a hurdle; it is an opportunity. I simply learned guitar and then recorded the tracks (in extremely small, bite-sized chunks). The learning gained from this experience is indescribable. One inevitably comes across hurdles; one simply problem-solves. The key is to keep making progress; the feeling of moving forward will help maintain motivation.

"What if I'm not good enough?"

If you need to ask yourself whether or not you trust your partner, then you probably don't. Trusting your partner does not come about by debating in your head over whether you do or do not and then satisfying yourself with the ultimate conclusion that indeed yes, after deliberation, you have come to realize that you do in fact trust your partner. Instead, trusting your partner comes as silently trusting your partner without prolonged discourse in your mind over whether you do or don't.
Let us abstract this thought a bit more broadly. What does it mean if one finds themselves debating in their head over whether or not they are "enough," i.e., the famous "Am I good enough?" internal dialogue. Well, we arrive at a similar conclusion. If you are asking yourself this question, then you probably already know the answer, and you probably already know that the answer is no.
The proposition I wish to defend in this writing is the following: this realization is good news.
How does one battle anxiety? What most people will try to do is convince themselves that the thing they are scared of won't happen. For example, say someone is scared of being cheated on. They will feel the threat of this and respond to it by brainwashing themselves inside their own minds with convictions and arguments which insist that they do not have to worry about this and that their partner could never do such a thing ("Forget about that one time at that party; they said it was meaningless, and I trust them!"). This will result in a discussion (or more likely an argument) with the partner, where they are likely to be questioned, policed, have their character attacked, etc. Most notably, though, no anxiety would have been cured, and so further safety would be yet to be achieved.
What is happening here is that the person experiencing fear is trying to turn the low-chance thing (here, being cheated on) into a no-chance thing. This transformation is impossible; there simply does exist a chance that your partner will cheat on you, and even marrying the most devout nun in the village cannot turn this probability to zero.
So you do not have the chance to remove the possibility of scary things happening, but you do have a chance of living happily and peacefully in spite of this fact. If you build yourself in character and in mind, you will be able to transform yourself into somebody who is strong enough to handle the bad thing happening, even if it were to occur.
Say you were in fact cheated on. Then what would happen next? Realistically, step through it. What do you believe would happen next? You would feel a big sense of betrayal, possibly embarrassment, lots of hurt, you would feel very shaken, and quite shocked. Then there would be a process of coming to accept that this has happened. Your understanding of your situation would change, there would be many difficult conversations between many different people, or lack thereof, and over time your response and your future would become clearer, and then you would action whatever decision has been made. That sounds uncomfortable, difficult, hard, and as though the person going through all of that will be deserving of compassion, love, patience, and support (ideally wisdom too).
That can be done. In fact, it can be done with honor, fairness, and humanity. It is not a process which one will wish upon themselves, but it is also a situation which is possible to go through if strength and integrity have been previously acquired.
Lastly, there is the important following point: you need to make a decision in a circumstance such as the above, for which it will be necessary that you can listen to yourself.
We now have an answer to our question, how does one battle anxiety? By developing strength and ability to practice acceptance. Acceptance of circumstance, to be precise.
Let's apply this to the title question. How do you battle fear of not being good enough? The answer is accept that you probably are not.
The truth is, if you're asking yourself whether you're "good enough," you already know the answer. You’re not. Not in the way you’ve imagined, not in the way you're desperately trying to force yourself to be. And that’s the truth you’re avoiding.
So, what do you do with it? Stop pretending like it’s going to magically change. Stop trying to convince yourself that one day you’ll just be enough. That’s a lie you’ve been telling yourself. It’s easier to hide in the illusion of potential than to face the reality that you are not perfect. There’s no moment where you’ll suddenly tick every box you think you should. You’re not going to wake up one day and feel “good enough.”
Now, here’s the kicker: this isn’t some tragic news. In fact, it’s probably the best news you’ll hear. You can’t solve the problem of not being enough by trying to be perfect. You don’t get to remove that doubt. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can stop fighting an impossible battle. And guess what? That’s where your power lies.
The people who tell you to ignore the fear, to pretend it’s not there, are lying and should be ignored. Anxiety isn’t fought by pretending it doesn’t exist. It’s fought by accepting that it will exist, and still moving forward anyway. So that when the thing you fear happens—because it will, sooner or later—you’re not left crumbling in disbelief. You’re not caught up in trying to deny the truth. You’ve already made peace with the worst-case scenario, and you're able to act from a place of clarity.
That’s how you battle fear. Stop lying to yourself. Stop looking for a way out. You don’t get to erase your flaws. They’re part of the deal. But they don’t have to own you.
You can’t make yourself invincible. What you can do is make yourself strong enough to handle things falling apart. And when they do, you won’t break. That’s the only guarantee you’ll ever have. The rest is just noise.
If you want to get past fear of not being enough, stop pretending it’s something you can fix. It’s not a problem to solve. It’s a fact to accept. And in that acceptance, there’s a strange kind of peace. Not the kind that comes from "getting it right," but the kind that comes from facing everything head-on, knowing full well that you’ll never be enough—and still being okay with it.