When music functions as an opportunity to deliver your emotions and heartfelt stories, additional documentation of it may seem unwarranted. Hence, writing about music and similar cultural phenomenons is often perceived as nonsensical – a waste of time. However, even if this belief seems harmless, the functions of a ‘music writer’ (in this instance, a person who creates music oriented written works, rather than music or lyrics) go unnoticed. For the readers, it is the provided insight of how a piece of music can be perceived. For the writer, it is about discovering the relationship between different bodies of work and yourself: whether you are writing about your own works or reviews about another artist’s pieces, the words written by you stay as timeline of your growth as an artist, the way you learn to listen, acknowledge and critique.

The originally written text acts as a mind map of your ‘likes’ and ‘dislikes’, your world view on culture, a record of how a piece that you heard in the past had affected you in that certain timeframe. To learn how music could be perceived, or more importantly, how your observations about another artist’s work could be implemented into your own artistic direction, it is crucial to ask yourself and answer any questions that arise about the music that you listen to, create or write about. It is the curiosity that fosters experimentation and drive to move beyond your artistic boundaries.

My own journey with writing started during high school, when I was proposed to write a review about a concert that consisted of several young artist’s repertoires. Undoubtedly, it was a demanding experience that required me to learn how to convey my running thoughts into coherent structures. Additionally, I had to accept that this process of writing about music and culture takes time and patience. Even so, through all the trials and tribulations, something about documenting my ideas and impressions seemed so appealing. Perhaps it was that nothing is truly set in stone when you are writing, as the creative process of writing (and similarly music) does not have an inherent set of rules. Writing generally has always seemed unique to me, since it provides the power to choose whether to publish your thoughts, or keep them neatly tucked away in your journal. Hence, music and writing truly go hand in hand: not only do you choose what your body of work may reveal or relate to, but it is up to you to translate it in any form and or style you seek.

As writing has retained its status as another artistic endeavor of mine for these past few years, I recognize the major role that this pastime has had on my musical works. A written text, whether it is digital or written by my own hand, is a map of my own thinking, reasoning and inspiration – it reveals how everything is tightly woven in my relationship with art and culture. When reading the reviews I wrote in the past about other artist’s works, I often identify that the observations I noted down about the musical decisions of others, find their way into my own pieces. However, the more music I create, the works I write many times become documentations of my own projects, rather than musical reviews. It is when I write about my original compositions that I discover the connections of my long-time inspirations and references and my current bursts of creativity. Nevertheless, one’s personal taste in art has always been informative to one’s life pursuit and calling.

The act of writing is a representation of one’s willingness to challenge themselves and their perception, especially when discussing works of others. The music and art that you create is comparatively easier to write about, when you lived through the journey of making it come to life. However, it is a whole other craft to document someone else’s work in such a manner, where it is not superficial or overly critical, but rather educational and insightful, both to you and your reader. Although, to me, that is the whole beauty of writing. You simultaneously learn how to put your perspective into words that are easy to grasp but also hold weight. And as you sit with your thoughts and questions (which are sometimes about the music itself, but mainly the different synonyms of the words you can’t seem to help repeat), you, once again, learn about yourself and your stance in the vast world of art and culture.

So, observe, listen, assess, question, critique, learn, and most importantly – write about it.