The Catharsis of Songwriting

A fellow musician recently posted something on Facebook about the exasperation he feels after promoting his work day after day, posting TikToks and Instagram photos trying to get more attention for his music. I think any artist — musician, painter, photographer, writer — understands that feeling, especially as it’s becoming more and more necessary to be your own business manager, promoter, booking agent, producer, etc.

My friend Josh (of Jersey Calling fame) responded on that post with a reminder that — at least for him — he’s creating art for himself, to “feed the monster inside me that needs a constant creative outlet.”

It’s a reminder I needed. We’ve been steadily producing some new material for Jersey Calling, but I’ve been struggling to find a voice for the country/folk songs I also love writing and playing. I was beginning to feel that familiar sense of self-doubt every time I sat down with a guitar and a blank sheet of paper.

The self-doubt took up comfortable residence in my head, nestled amongst my fear of aging, heartache for a broken world, and the petty frustrations of day-to-day life. All that negativity seemed aligned against me, and I didn’t even try writing a song for weeks.

But Josh’s reminder to be a bit selfish struck a chord for me. It allowed me to reframe why I write, and why I play music. And this morning I took all that fear and resentment and wrote it down, line by line, humming along a simple melody to give it a bit of rhythm and structure.

I didn’t need this morning’s lyrics to turn into something, whether a Jersey Calling song or something I record on my own. In all likelihood they’ll be forgotten by tomorrow. But sometimes just the act of sitting down with a pen & paper and scratching out a few lines is enough to make me feel human again.

When I put down those ideas onto paper, I’m also putting down those emotions — the hurt, the bitterness, the shame, the resentment, the inadequacy. If I’m lucky, I’m able to leave all of that on the page, so it doesn’t follow me around for the rest of the day.

And, if I’m really lucky, the lyrics I’ve written aren’t half-bad, and I’ll give them another several rounds of editing so they can hopefully speak to someone else.

But, in the end, I’m doing this for me. And doing it is enough.