Chaos flooded my headphones as Mark walked into the office and asked what I was listening to.
What if I told Mark I was listening to Geese? What if he went back to his desk, looked them, heard the car bomb song, and decided I was a disturbed individual?
Not that listening to Geese means one is disturbed. And yet, I blurted out that I was listening to Bob Dylan.
Bob Dylan played well with Mark. He recognized the name. Probably thought: "Ah, here is a guy that takes his son to see Paul McCartney and is a Dylan fan. That is the kind of guy I can relate to. That is the kind of guy I can rely on."
Now, if it was my wife or best friend, I would have enthusiastically tried to sell them on how Geese rocks. My in-laws or parents would've gotten Bob Dylan. My younger coworkers would have gotten something less crazy than Geese, but something that made me seem more interesting than Bob Dylan. Maybe Pavement.
Part of this is because I overweight music as identity when judging others. Someone who listens to Geese gets high marks in my book. I respect Bob Dylan listeners, but in a different way. However, when I hear Taylor Swift I can't help but think "Geez, what are you, a teenager?"
So music becomes one of those things that help me reveal the appropriate character I am playing for the audience in front of me.
My parents see a quiet and reserved kid excelling in life and his career. My in-laws see a caring and responsible dad and husband. My friend group sees an unorthodox smart-ass marching to his own beat. My best friend sees a wanna-be philosopher. My family gets to experience the goofy fartman.
I don't know if anyone every reveals a "complete" picture of themselves. I'm not even sure I understand my own. Some people get a truer glimpse than others, but never the whole thing.
For example, even my wife has never read any of my essays. Now, I've written syrupy sentimental love letters and bared my soul in conversation many times with her. And yet, I rarely share my writing with her.
If writing anonymously helps me be honest, does that mean I am not being honest with my wife? If writing anonymously prevents me from trying to be too clever, does that mean I still feel the need to impress my wife? Do I fear she would think less of me if she reads this?
Either way, writing takes courage. There is the fear of sucking in front of others. But the bigger fear is being seen clearly and judged for it. I can get over somebody thinking my writing sucks. But the fear of being rejected after being "seen" seems tougher to deal with.
The Sunset Tree was John Darnielle's most personal songwriting. It was no accident this was the Mountain Goats' 9th studio album. Darnielle stated that the Sunset Tree should NOT be your first album. Essentially, you need to write the poison out before you start getting too personal. Your early work is going to suck. No need to burden yourself with vulnerability on top of that.
However, I still admire people who have the courage to write and share their Sunset Tree with the world. I admire my former coworker who did a vulnerable standup set at a nearby music festival. I wanted him to kill it, while envying the courage to do the same.
I don't know when I'll be ready to release my Sunset Tree. All I know for sure is that my wife, and everybody else in my orbit, will have to wait at least another month before getting to read what I am sharing with the world anonymously. My real name is nowhere to be found on this essay.
And I will still be telling some people that I am listening to Bob Dylan when I am not.