Ah, self-judgment. My constant companion.
(This entry uses audio links. For the version with inline audio, please visit my website.)
The irony is hitting hard as I write this, my fourth draft of a blog about perfectionism.
Ever since I was young I've suffered from perfectionism, which I experience like a constant worry that whatever I'm doing, saying or creating is not good enough. I know this condition is a common one to develop, and in my case it was ushered along by being nicknamed Andy “Perfect” Barr from 2nd to 6th grade and then developing a stubborn resistance to experiencing failure. (I originally named this project "Andy Perfect Barr" but then decided the title wasn't good enough.)
I was inspired to turn this feeling into a song in late 2020, when the discombobulation of quarantine brought my anxiety to new exciting peaks and was causing tension in my relationship at home with Amy. I was feeling lost, confused, disappointed, and hopeless, and I decided it was time to get help from a therapist.
I'm a huge proponent of therapy and believe it would benefit anyone. In the lowest of lows of my early 30s I did a year-long analysis, had some profound breakthroughs and learned to experience and talk about my emotions for the first time. This helped me be more honest with myself and develop deeper relationships with my family and friends. I was fortunate to have found a good match the first time around, and lucky a second time when I was matched with my current therapist Tim.
Early on in our work Tim asked me to identify and give names to the voices in my head that were keeping me from reaching out, creating, and moving toward the things that I cared about. The first voice I picked out was very familiar, a voice of constant judgment of myself and the world around me. For reasons I do not know, I named him Gerry (not related to you though Gerry, I promise).
In giving him a name I was able to see how Gerry fuels my perfectionism ("you're doing it wrong!"), low self-worth ("you're doing it wrong!"), comparison with others ("you're doing it wrong!"), general fear, imposter syndrome, insecurity etc. ("WRONG WRONG WRONG!"). You get the picture and chances are you have a Gerry of your own. Dwight? Clarissa?
In the weeks after this exercise, whenever Gerry would show up I would intercept and then repeat back his unchanging message, "YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG!" It usually sounded absurd or melodramatic and that let the air out of the whole experience and made me feel more in control. "You're doing it wrong!" also became a comic refrain in conversations with Amy as we tried to make sense of our life, work, finances, success, etc. in comparison to the perceived ease, success, and doing-it-right-ness of other people our age.
As often happens in life and in musicals this refrain turned into singing, which I captured as a voice memo.
Voice Memo, October 2020:
The verse melody came along with a lyric: "I can't remember the last time I felt safe enough to cry." When something like this comes out of my mouth I know it's the straight up TRUTH because I hate it and it makes me feel a little itchy and embarrassed. When I was younger I would immediately delete lines like this because I was sure the sentiment could be better expressed from behind a shroud of shitty poetry. These days I still shit poetry but I also welcome the unconscious in as a better metaphor-wielder than my ego will ever be.
By the time I got around to writing the rest of the song I had been joke singing the refrain for several months, and so it felt like a song that already existed. Most of the additional lyrics came stream of consciousness while walking around the neighborhood or playing through the form on acoustic guitar. Here's a voice memo from the week I finished the song:
Voice Memo, January 2021:
The open acoustic guitar chords give it a real Springsteen vibe, which I think comes less from the boss himself than from the influence of Jack Antonoff + Bleachers, who helped me embrace singing in baritone rather than always pushing at the top of my vocal range.
It's a cool vibe but it wasn't quite hitting the feeling I was looking for and needed more in-your-face production, big drums and borderline annoying sounds. I sketched it out in Logic pretty quickly, adding a chaotic guitar solo and a watery, plodding bridge.
Demo, January 2021:
This version contains most of what shows up in the final, save for some lyric changes and a more refined production and mix. Since the song is both heart-on-sleeve and tongue-in-cheek and I found myself singing in character, leaning into the the haunting absurdity of Gerry's voice.
By the end of the week I felt good about the song. I liked the overall energy, and the guitar solo felt appropriately intense, reminiscent of Jimi Hendrix's "Manic Depression." As a kid I wrote quasi-punk-rock songs like this because it was easy for me to hide behind the aggressiveness of the guitars and drums. Today it feels fun to pair that musical armor with an unmistakably vulnerable lyric, far more authentic to my growing need to be seen.
As with the last week's song, this demo sat dormant for a whole year before I got around to "fixing it," making the slew of minor, imperceptible tweaks that slowly diminish Gerry's ranting in my head. Awareness is the first step, looking forward to the next. Here's the final version.
Final version, February 2022:
Thanks so much for reading along. I really think the spell of this project is working! I'm writing new music for the first time in months so hopefully I'll be elbow-to-elbow with the truth in no time.
Winky-eye-tongue emoji, Andy
Process playlist: