Apparently Writing the Song Was the Easy Bit

I thought writing songs was supposed to be the difficult part.

Then I released one and discovered I was also expected to tell people about it.

Repeatedly.

This, it turns out, is not my natural habitat.

I can happily spend hours with a guitar playing the same few chords over and over again. I can rewrite one line fifteen times because one word doesn’t quite feel right. I can record something, listen back, change my mind, change it back again and somehow convince myself that this is all perfectly normal behaviour.

But asking people to listen to the finished thing?

Terrifying.

There’s something very strange about taking something you’ve made, putting it out into the world and then immediately having to start shouting about how brilliant it is.

Especially when your natural instinct is more:

“I made this little thing. You absolutely don’t have to listen to it, obviously. But it’s there if you want to. Sorry.”

Apparently that isn’t a particularly strong marketing strategy.

The bit nobody tells you about

Before I started releasing music, I think I imagined the process went something like this:

Write song.

Record song.

Release song.

People somehow discover song.

Lovely.

Unfortunately there appears to be a fairly important missing stage between numbers three and four called promoting it.

Suddenly you’re thinking about photos, videos, captions, snippets and whether you’ve mentioned the same song so many times that everyone you know has quietly muted you.

And the particularly ridiculous thing is that while I’m supposed to be doing all of that, my brain has normally already moved on.

I’ll release a song I’ve spent weeks thinking about and within about 24 hours I’ll be sitting with my guitar thinking:

Right. What’s next?

Does anyone actually listen?

Then there’s the dangerous little collection of numbers that comes with releasing music.

Streams. Views. Likes. Followers.

I try not to look.

This is a lie.

Of course I look.

Probably far more often than is healthy.

There is something slightly surreal about watching a number change and knowing that somewhere, someone you have never met has just chosen to listen to something you made.

And honestly, that part still feels a little bit magical.

Especially when it’s a complete stranger.

Friends and family are wonderful, but there’s always a tiny part of you wondering whether they’re listening because they actually like the song or because they love you and feel morally obliged.

A stranger has no such responsibility.

They can leave.

So when they don’t — or even better, when they listen to another song afterwards — it means an enormous amount.

I’m learning

I don’t think I’m ever going to become the person who confidently tells everyone that they need to hear my latest song.

That just isn’t me.

But I’m slowly getting better at remembering that sharing something you’ve made isn’t the same as showing off.

I wrote these songs because they mean something to me.

If I never tell anyone they exist, they don’t really get much of a chance to mean something to somebody else.

So I’ll keep posting them.

I’ll keep making slightly awkward videos.

I’ll keep trying to think of new ways to say “I have a song out” without saying “I have a song out” for the hundredth time.

And yes, I’ll probably keep checking the numbers when I promised myself I wouldn’t.

Because every now and then, somebody I’ve never met finds one of my songs.

And for a few minutes, all the awkwardness feels completely worth it.

Now I should probably go and promote my music.

Although I have just thought of a melody…

Darla x