I recently read that it’s important to be brutally honest with your Substack readers. I guess it’s supposed to help draw you in or something.
I Googled “Is it okay to be brutally honest?” and here’s what it said:
Honesty is essential in any relationship and a key component of building trust. But brutal honesty, well, that's a different story. Often people disguise these types of cruel comments or judgemental behavior as "just being real," but if left unchecked, it can lead to a toxic relationship dynamic.
So I’m warning you, our relationship could turn toxic soon.
I also read this Substack Note from
that I found to be superb advice:I’m going to use that guidance - at least for today. Buckle up!
I do feel like I’ve already opened up here quite a bit in the past. I’ve told you about being overly critical of myself as well as my stage fright, just to name a couple off the top of my head.
But today, with Mr. Renwick’s encouragement, I’m going to tell you where I am with my music and this Substack, and where I want to be. Then I’m going to tell you what I’m going to do about it.
I’ve struggled all my life to take my music1 seriously. When I was a junior and senior in high school I took a couple of Music Theory classes and discovered three things:
Music had limitations
Creativity did not
Holy cow I think I can do this!
And then I spent the next three and a half decades looking for approval as a musician. I was just waiting for that Grammy to be handed to me; waiting for a call from the Grand Ole Orpy.
I started to write and record with Jay, Todd, and Chris as Orphus. We did it for roughly 20 years. Several tapes/CDs that 10’s of people listened to a total of one time.
Some of the music we wrote (though not all of it) was mocking and satirical. Looking back, I think this was a defense mechanism for all of us. We didn’t want to look like we were taking ourselves too seriously. If people heard our music, thought we stunk, and noticed all of our songs were serious - what a slap in the face that would be. This tactic held any haters at bay.2
“Yeah, we suck. We don’t take this seriously. Listen to this song about farts.”
In the long run, we were each other’s biggest fans. No one loved our music as much as we did.3
And that bothered me. (And probably shouldn’t have.)
Why didn’t anyone else take me seriously?4
And so I kept my music hidden from almost everyone outside my inner circle of about 10-15 people.
I had a full-time job/career to think about. I didn’t need people thinking I was weirder than they already did.
As the Internet took over the world in the 2000’s, it became a place where people with identity crises could moonlight as someone else. I adopted a pseudonym and became known as Brad Westmar or, simply “Westmar,” hosting radio shows/podcasts and a beer review show on YouTube, taking on acting roles, etc. I know I’m forgetting some projects.
I think I was trying to leave a mark on this world before I left it. Watching my father die in a hospital bed at the young age of 63 made me face my own mortality square in the face.
I love this Leonard Cohen quote:
"I will remain here until I am sure what I'm leaving."
And on top of it all, now I had a child of my own.
It eventually hit me that these projects I’d been doing might’ve fulfilled a creative need I had at the time, but they were not going to leave any kind of legacy. Hell, you won’t even be able to trace those things back to the name that will be on my tombstone!
And I realized that although he would never say it, my late father just might appreciate it if I left something behind with our last name. My brother and I are quite aware that we will more than likely be the last two patriarchs to live and die a “Carl.”
I just feel like the name deserves more. I also know that if my father was still around, he’d be my music’s biggest fan.
One time in 1998 my parents were on a weekend getaway with us in Branson. I can vividly remember my dad trying to get his friend from high school who was vacationing with us to listen to one of my songs on the car stereo.
I miss my dad.
Books have longevity. I decided to write one and used my real name. And then I wrote several more.
They aren’t perfect by any means, but I put a lot of time and money into making sure they were readable. I wanted to be taken seriously, and I think I was.
After a few years, though, I got burned out on writing books. It wasn’t so much the writing part that got me, but the production and marketing. It was a bunch of work I didn’t want to do, but I also didn’t trust anyone else to do it correctly. So I put it all on the backburner until further notice.
I remain proud of that body of work. I also know I can do even better if I want to write more.
Soon after I stalled out on writing books, I began to get the urge to write songs again.5 It had been more than 5 years since the last Orphus CD and although it was never official, we had no plans of doing another one.
Over the past several years I had grown to love a bunch of new artists I had never explored - Lou Reed, Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, The Replacements - I really wanted to write some songs under these new influences.
But I had the same back and forth with myself for a while; why make music that no one else cares about but you?
I soon made the decision that I could make music but would commit to not making it for anyone else but me. I would put it out there into the world and if people liked it, great. If they didn’t, so what? If they commented directly to me, great.
The one thing I wasn’t going to do was get a big head because despite what some people from my past might think, I’m the least egotistical person I know.
I begin writing and demoing songs and also started a YouTube Channel where I uploaded all types of music things. Eventually the channel became mostly me doing acoustic covers of other people’s songs.
It’s getting to the point now where I’m repeating “my story” to you. You know the rest of what happened from here - I released The Orphus Years: 1996-2010 because I wanted more people to hear some of the songs I had previously done.
I even had some fun telling the background stories about the songs to my YouTube audience:
After the Orphus Years was out, I began to record an entire album of original songs that would become Bad Men Of Good Fortune.
I probably rushed a couple of those songs to get them done. I cringe a little when I hear them. But for the most part I’m satisfied with what I created, lyrically.
This entire time I’ve had that inner critic voice in my head telling me that if I don’t win a Grammy for Bad Men Of Good Fortune I’m a failure. I know - that’s ridiculous, right?
So I reduce the voice to more realistic expectations. I got it all the way down to “as long as a couple of people say something specific to me about a song, I’m a success.”
And that did happen - so thank you.
Why am I so self-conscious about what others think of my music? It’s an easy answer, really.
For any positive comments I’ve received over the years about my music, there have been just as many people who have responded like this:
My memory isn’t so great these days. It’s probably not that bad. Maybe more like this:
The truth is, I’m exaggerating quite a bit. People do not respond to my music with that much expression on their face. In all honesty, it looks more like this:
Most people stare at me blankly and don’t say anything when they hear my music.
This just makes me hugely uncomfortable; confused; anxious.
I received much more direct and positive feedback on my books.6
Several years ago I made an appearance at a book club that had read Grey Areas: The Saga as their book of the month. I knew one of the members personally and as the meeting was ending that person made a comment to me about how they were wondering what else I had hiding in “that devious brain” of mine.
I took that as a compliment. It was a compliment, wasn’t it?
And I wonder if that’s what people are doing when they give me the “duh” look after realizing I write and record music. They’re trying to make sense of it all, because they know me as the middle class, 8 to 5 sales guy and father originally from Iowa, not a guy who writes songs (or books.)
(IMPORTANT NOTE: I feel like the next couple of paragraphs are an essential discovery. I’d love to explore it more so if you have any comments, please share!)
I’ve also figured out that it’s easier to find a reader for my books than it is to find a listener for my music. People who read are generally rabid addicts of the medium. If you put out a readable book and tell your reader friends, they will read it. Even cooler, I still have organic monthly sales of my books with no marketing whatsoever.
But when it comes to music, people are weird. Finicky. I didn’t need to spend a decade in radio to learn this, either. It’s noticeable everywhere.
Just ask yourself:
Do I have an open mind about the music I listen to every day?
Am I often giving something new (to my ears) a listen?
Or am I generally always listening to the same songs every week?
It’s a mighty challenge for me to accept that most people are not like me when it comes to music. They are creatures of habit and comfortability. And unfortunately it’s quite difficult to break down that wall and get people to put your song in a playlist and listen to it regularly. That’s why it’s still imperative for a serious musician to get played on the radio, FM or SiriusXM. It’s the best way to get a song jammed into people’s brain and listening routines.
Maybe the perception I have of my music is incorrect. But I believe there’s a decent bit of catchiness to most of my songs, and the overall recording quality is on a level with the rest out there. But it doesn’t seem to make much difference.
I do know that it would help some if I would play a few live shows regularly. There’s something about hearing music in a bar when you’ve had few drinks, right? I just haven’t put myself out there much yet, unfortunately. But I would like to.7
While it’s true that I appreciate it when people listen to my songs or make comments to me about them, I know I shouldn’t expect it.
The truth is, I’m mostly writing for myself. I’m even writing this for myself.
My only real hope and desire is that when I write for myself, others can relate to what I’m saying. Because I am just like you, and you are just like me.
My music, my writing, my poetry, it’s the best way I know how to help other people remember that we are all human. That we all experience the same emotions in life.
I want to leave something behind in this world. There might not be as much appreciation for what I'm creating right now, but I know when I’m dead and gone...
I truly think it’s cool that I get to live forever inside my music. It’s my hope that loved ones will find some comfort with my art that remains here. The music and poems and books all include big chunks of my soul. I encourage you to look beyond the words when that time comes. Introspection is the key to a deeper understanding.8
Wow. This has been cathartic. I’m hoping that I now will be a changed man. One thing’s for sure, I feel like I was honest. Thanks for reading!
When I say “my music” I’m talking about writing, recording, and performing. If I say “music” I’m always talking about the world of music - all encompassing.
I think even the name “Orphus” was used to give people the impression that we were just messing around.
Sadly, several of our best written songs were way too over the top with sarcasm and goofiness.
Here’s an example of why one might feel insecure about his music. Write a song specifically for a person, share it with them...and that person has nothing to say in response to the song. Ever.
It’s always something.
Truth be told, I also received a handful of negative criticism on my books. (Check Amazon reviews) That was actually a great learning experience because most of the negativity didn’t even make sense to me.
I’ve available for “House Shows/Parties,” by the way.
I’m honestly not sure if that’s true. It just popped into my head.
Honestly... you might hate this comment because I’m writing from a loud coffee shop, where I’m reading without headphones so didn’t listen to the music clips yet (I know!!), but damn, Brad, I want to read your books. I’m definitely a repeat offender, comfort-type when it comes to music (case in point, I woke up to The Bee Gees this morning, a song I’ve been listening to for... hm... 45 years? Ha!) but I read new things all the time. One thing I can say for sure is that your writing inspires the hell out of me. My last post here was about why we make art, and you touched on one of my theories here. Sometimes we make it for ourselves. For what we learn while we’re in the process of “art-ing” (writing, making music, etc.). You’re an artist -- keep arting, because that’s what you do. And keep writing, because you’re also f*cking good at that.