No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2002-08-14 - 10:23 a.m.

Broncos and being a selfish song writer

I was on the horns of a moral dilemma for a bit this morning, and now I've just said Fuck it. I'm going to skip a rehearsal to go see the Broncos with Mom. After Monday night, I'm not terribly inclined towards Herr Director, anyway.

See, there's a song I wrote for the show. I showed up to the first rehearsal with it completely written. I played it, and everyone said "great, good song". It's always been included in the running order and I figured it was pretty much solid. Now, suddenly, after a month, Herr Director wants to do the following. 1) I don't get to sing it. Okay, I suppose that's okay. It makes more sense from a character perspective to have someone else sing it. But then someone else sang it and he slaughtered it. 2) Change the melody. Why? I don't see why. It's certainly one of the best songs I've ever written, and it has a hook. It has a catchy melody that people will sing to themselves after hearing it once. Why change that? 3) Change most of the lyrics. This one comes directly out of #1. Long story, but I can pull off the lyrics as written, he can't.

At the start of Monday's rehearsal, I had one contribution to the show that I was really, really proud of. Something that was solid and complete, and served up on a silver platter. At the end of Monday's rehearsal, I barely recognized my song anymore.

And let's be honest. This is about selfishness. This is about ego. I try very hard to be a team player. I've stood quietly by on many occasions while I or my work were marginalized or sleighted. For the sake of the show as a whole. But I reserve the right to be proud of my contributions. Hell, I even reserve the right to look forward to a moment of personal glory. I wanted to have a song that could bring the house down, one that I wrote, one that I performed, one that was *mine*.

Right now the song feels dead. And a couple of days later, I'm still pissed off.

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