Why I Recently Decided to Not Ask for Critique on my Songs

[Reid Rosefelt]

I was preparing to do an album of new songs, so I invited a friend to listen to the ones I was working on. Some he liked, some he didn't, but one he was nuts about. I told him about the changes I wanted to make, but this seemed to pain him. He didn't want anything changed, he loved it so much. So that became the first song I produced. As I worked on the album and got a few friends to listen, I gradually realized that harsh critique wasn't the biggest problem for me--it was the praise. Turning my attention to songs other people liked was just another way of looking to others for validation.

And you know? The one new song I don't like to listen to is the song my friend loved. I listen to everything, including fragments of songs that were never finished, but not that fully produced song.

And it made me remember a story from my life. A very hard lesson. For the first time, I decided to never ask for critique on my songs.

If you'll forgive me, here's the story:

I once made a short film that co-starred the late actress/filmmaker Adrienne Shelly ("Waitress") I was in awe of her as a writer, so shortly before we started shooting, I asked her to give me notes. Right on the spot she started improvising scenes that I thought were funnier than mine. I'd worked on my script for months, but I accepted her notes completely. She had made my script so much funnier!

A few weeks later, she's watching me direct one of the scenes featuring her new dialogue. And she says, "oh no, that's not how I heard it." And I thought, "fine, this is my movie. I'm the director."

When it's done, the film goes out to some festivals and screenings and is a total dud. If I had made a drama, maybe I could argue that the audience didn't get it, but with a comedy, if there are no laughs, it sucks.

Suffering through all the screenings, I realized that the jokes that weren't working were her jokes, not mine. They might have worked if she directed the movie, but her sense of humor wasn't mine. And therefore the failure also wasn't totally mine. Through my lack of confidence, I had robbed myself of the lesson of finding out whether I could direct a funny comedy or not. And I'd gone broke doing it.

Every time I saw the film, I got sadder, and eventually I wouldn't let it be shown any more. The way I saw it, the failure wasn't the film. I could have lived with that. The failure was me not believing in myself. I was ashamed. I knew I shouldn't ever let that happen again.

But of course I did exactly that last year. It's lonely writing songs, so I played some of them to friends to get a reaction. After two listens they'd give me advice about something I'd spent two months on. Some people never responded to my mp3s at all, which made me worry. All of the advice impacted what I thought about my songs, which ones I moved forward on and which ones I pushed to the side.

I realize that a lot of people make good use of critique and make their songs better. That works for them, and that's fine. Everybody has their own process.

I have been working since last September on a five-song EP. This will be the first time I have ever put any songs on streaming services. I've never done this before. This is costing a lot of money, with my singer, mixer, and the occasional musician.

I want to be proud of the result. And I never want to listen to it years from now and wish I did one of the songs differently.

 

[ABB-SWP]

Personally I ask as many different people for their opinions as possible because it's rare that I don't receive at least one useful suggestion.

However, given how varied people's tastes are, I would not as a rule let these opinions dictate which songs I would produce, or how I would produce them (unless the suggestions were very insightful and were aligned with my creative vision).

 

[BDT]

I usually share my songs with the members of the BIAB forum and often receive valuable feedback.
Even if I might not agree with someone else's opinion, it's always worth thinking about it.
And perhaps even reconsidering my own opinion...

 

[CrimsonWarlock]

When I write and produce a new track, it is good when I think it is good. I don't let others listen to it before it is done. When I release it so others can hear it, I welcome opinions on the whole, but I'm not soliciting feedback on details because I'm not going to change anything. It's already finished.

I've been writing, composing, and producing music for 40+ years and listening to a lot of music for even longer, so I dare to say I'm capable enough to recognize whether what I made is good or trash. Although that comes with a serious dose of self-critique, which is less enjoyable.

Besides that, most people that listen to my music are family and friends who don't have a clue about music production anyway

 

[Nekujak]

Sharing in-progress, or even finished, songs with others and getting feedback can be tricky, to be sure.

After years of exposing my music, both finished and in-progress, to various people and audiences, and getting reactions and feedback, I've found the most important factor is context. Or put another way: not every opinion has equal weight or is relevant to what I'm trying to do.

While that may seem like an obvious thing, it actually took me many years to learn that I don't need to take all feedback to heart - that some feedback is worth considering, while others can, and should, be ignored.

There's also a difference between solicited and unsolicited feedback. If you ask someone their overall opinion of a song, some folks will feel obligated to come up with something "intelligent" to say, which often means they'll intentionally try to find something to nitpick or criticize, and expound on it. This kind of feedback is often unproductive and not helpful.

I seldom ask for feedback on in-progress works, but when I do, I've learned to be very specific about what I'm seeking, like: "Does this bassline work in the chorus?", "Is that chord too dissonant or jarring?", "Could the last two lines of this verse drive home the point better?", etc. In this way, the listener's attention is focused on the aspects I'm specifically interested in, and I'm more likely to get a useful response.

And lastly, if I'm truly seeking relevant feedback, the most useless thing someone can say is, "I like it" or "I don't like it". First, most people often say, "I like it" or "That's nice" just to be polite. It's nice to hear, but it's often just a platitude. But even more useless is when someone simply says, "I don't like it," because it gives me nothing to work with. So when I get a reaction like that, I'll either dismiss it, or ask for more detailed specifics.

Ultimately, music is art, and art is experienced on an intensely personal level. So no matter how objective someone tries to be when they listen to something, it's still going to pass through their personal filter. Some people are better at taking a step back and providing a more objective perspective, but their personal tastes and sensibilities still color their opinion.

And because it's art, it's also very personal to your own creativity, which means it's not going to resonate with everyone, and it's definitely not going to land on everyone in the way you intended. Years ago, I wrote a sad and tragic song about a guy tormented by the memory of an ex-lover. Imagine my surprise when I played it live for the first time, and some people in the audience audibly chuckled during various parts of the song. It turns out, they were amused by some of the ironic wordplay in the lyrics. Not my intent, but you can't control how someone will be affected by a song. (Actually, that experience taught me a valuable lesson - it's often best to keep lyrics simple and to the point, and avoid being overly clever.)

I've had production tracks that I quickly slapped on an album as throwaway filler - they're simplistic, repetitive, and musically unspectacular - that ended up being some of my most successful and frequently licensed tracks. Go figure We simply cannot predict or control how the world will react to our music.

We all want our songs to be embraced and admired by as many listeners as possible. But whether or not that happens is not a definitive measure of the intrinsic quality of our music. The best we can do is express ourselves, and if we're lucky, our music might find an appreciative audience, or it might not. The most important thing is, we brought something truly and uniquely of ourselves into the world, and that in itself, is an accomplishment to be proud of.

One of the most memorable fortune cookie fortunes I ever got was: "You appeal to a small group of confused people." A modified version is in my signature on VI-C: "Your music appeals to a small group of confused people." For me, it's been a useful perspective to maintain - my music is never going to appeal to everyone, and that's pefectly okay.