Imposter Syndrome as a Musician
The word imposter has some rather duplicitous connotations. On one hand, it conjures images of caricature villains from cheesy pantomimes, TV shows and films, revealed in a hyper exaggerated manner. You know the kind of thing: "I'd have got away with it if it weren't for you meddling kids", et cetera.
The other side of the coin is a mental health issue that has only entered the public consciousness in recent memory. Indeed, it was only upon reading an article about it around six months ago that I realised imposter syndrome has certainly affected me. It was something of a revelation.
In a nutshell, sufferers of imposter syndrome feel like a fraud and live in a constant - or semi-constant at least - state of self-doubt. Studies have shown that it often disproportionately affects high achieving individuals, leaving them feeling as though their successes or abilities are undeserved.
Placing it in the context of a performance artist, imposter syndrome is a behavioural response to what can be an incredibly stressful stimulus; performing live, taking an exam, releasing music, holding an exhibition, reading a review of your own work, you name it - being creative in the public sphere is stressful.
The legendary Nina Simone was a sufferer:
As a musician, we've all had those moments. I've had them myself, and witnessed others having them. Those moments where the response to a compliment is a "yeah, but I messed up that part", or "you really enjoyed it? Are you sure?".
It's a truism that as humans, we are our own harshest critics and we focus on the little things; small errors, things which weren't in our own minds perfect. At the last concert I played, for example, my guitar strap made a bid for freedom, and in an effort to stop it completely hitting the deck and ruining itself (not to mention the ears of both my band and audience), I grabbed the guitar’s neck and hastily reattached said errant strap, only to find that my rescue attempt had detuned the lowest string by a full half note. I had to finish the song using one string that was out of tune. I was absolutely bloody mortified but was shocked to discover that the audience had barely noticed. Besides, given that I have a seemingly infinite ability to talk complete rubbish, I think I fronted it out okay when I was talking to the audience after the song.
As a musician, I go through phases where I struggle to even use the word to define myself. In order to provide a little context, I will admit that yes, my theoretical knowledge has some glaring gaps and I’m by no means virtuosic when I play guitar. However, I have been told “oh, you’re not a musician” and “you’re a terrible guitarist” on more than one occasion. The latter happened when someone picked up my guitar and the tuning had slipped slightly. I feel as though I'm seldom taken seriously, even now, and to call myself a musician isn't always easy.
That said, for me at least, you absolutely don’t have to have an unquenchable thirst for theory, and nobody needs to be able to shred a million notes a minute to qualify as 'good' – in my opinion, I find this gets very boring, very quickly, but such skills are not the industry standard. Not that I wish to be disparaging about those who have worked incredibly hard to acquire said knowledge and technical ability - I of course do try and learn and practice as often as I can.
So how, then, do I define myself on those occasions when I feel able to say to people those three little words - "I'm a musician"? Well, my skills lie first and foremost in songwriting. It's the thing I've done longest, and the element of a track I focus on first. The one thing that I love more than anything else is a great song. I would say I’m a half-decent songwriter, but I will leave comments on that to those who are exposed to my music.
Something that most artists the world over are guilty of is comparing themselves to others, and that is one of the absolute worst things that we can do, for two reasons. Firstly, no two artists are identical. Art, whatever form it takes, is highly subjective and personal for both the artist and the consumer. Secondly, every single creative type seeks approval for their work from others, regardless of how many times they may say ‘I make art just for me’.
Regardless, if you're reading this and you create, and you have ever doubted yourself, or felt like you are not good enough, keep in mind that you are unique, and your art is one of a kind, and has just as much validity in this world as anyone else's. Your goals may feel insurmountable, and it may all feel fruitless sometimes, but keep going, because the tough times - in your mind or otherwise - will give way to opportunities and experiences you will never forget.
Written by Chris Hughes
Chris, a self styled 'average guitarist extraordinare' is a content manager originally from the UK but now living in Hamburg, Germany. He is a proud European, and loves (in no particular order) music, raking through the dusty shelves of hidden record shops, red wine, cheese, his Gibson SG, and a small stuffed Highland Cow called Mr. Moo.
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