The older I get, the stranger the world seems to become.
Every day there’s a new argument, a new outrage, a new cause, a new crisis, and somebody demanding that everyone else pick a side. Turn on the television, open social media, or read the comments section, and it feels like half the world is mad at the other half.
As a songwriter, I’ve had to learn how to live in that environment without letting it consume me.
The first thing I realized is that outrage is a business model. People make money from keeping us angry, scared, and distracted. The louder the argument, the more attention it gets. The more attention it gets, the more money somebody makes.
Meanwhile, most of us are just trying to get through the day.
I’m trying to write songs. Somebody else is trying to raise kids. Another guy is trying to keep his business alive. Most people aren’t spending their days fighting ideological wars. They’re trying to live their lives.
That doesn’t mean I don’t have opinions. I do.
But I’ve learned that every opinion doesn’t need a microphone.
One of the reasons I stay away from political songwriting is because I don’t think most listeners come to music looking for another lecture. They get enough of that everywhere else. A good song should make people think, laugh, cry, remember, or feel something. It doesn’t have to tell them how to vote.
The radical world we live in wants everything reduced to teams.
You’re either with us or against us.
You’re either right or wrong.
You’re either one thing or another.
Real life isn’t that simple.
Most people are walking contradictions. We can believe two things at once. We can change our minds. We can be uncertain. We can still be figuring things out. That’s not weakness. That’s being human.
Songwriting taught me that.
The best songs aren’t usually about certainty. They’re about struggle. They’re about questions. They’re about trying to make sense of things that don’t always make sense.
That’s why I still write.
Not because I think a song will change the world.
Not because I think I’ll suddenly have a hit record.
I write because songs help me understand the world around me.
When the noise gets too loud, I go back to the things that are real. A guitar. A notebook. A sunset over the lake. A conversation with a friend. A fish pulling on the line. Those things don’t care what’s trending online this week.
They’re real whether anyone is talking about them or not.
Maybe that’s the answer to dealing with a radical world.
Stay grounded.
Pay attention to what matters.
Don’t let every headline move you around like a leaf in the wind.
And if you’re a songwriter, keep writing the truth as you see it.
Not the truth somebody demands you believe.
Not the truth that’s popular this week.
Your truth.
Because long after today’s arguments are forgotten, people will still be listening to songs that remind them what it felt like to be human.