'Wide Open', an open letter by Illicit Ghost
It’s easy for someone to tell you no. It’s quick and final and often puts an abrupt end to any discussion. It’s a powerful word that has the capacity to knock you so hard on your ass you wonder if you’ll ever be able to get up again. As an artist I’ve heard it time and time again. The first few times it paralyzed me. I questioned everything, I overthought, I spiraled out of control into some of my darkest days. At the rate I was going there came a point where I had to make a choice, was I going to pursue music or give up on everything.
I’m not sure how or why but there has always been a flame burning inside of me. Sometimes it’s dimmed, sometimes it blazes. Other times it flickers at a constant pace and I can find some peace. No matter its luminosity at any given moment, it has never burnt out.
I wrote “Wide Open” last year when I was feeling lost and stuck after experiencing a lot of rejection. After weeks of feeling totally defeated, I decided from then on, I would take any kind of judgment or frustration I faced and turn it into emotional fuel that lifts me up. There was no other choice. I had to keep fighting because music is the only thing that makes my life worth living. In the chorus, laughter is a sign of strength and confidence in the face of rejection. As hard as this can be, sometimes you need to step outside of yourself to get the perspective you need to move forward. And sometimes, you have to laugh.
I had to laugh when the songwriters and producers I wanted to work with never answered my many e-mails, when I couldn’t book the venue I wanted to book and when blogs didn’t post about my music. I had to laugh when people I once thought of as friends refused to acknowledge me in public because I didn’t have enough clout. I had to laugh about my music not getting heard. I had to laugh because it took me a long time to realize that the only person who can define me is myself.
I keep a close-knit circle of trusted collaborators, these are people who have been there at every step of the way, people who have seen me at my best and worst and still stick around, who continue to be tremendously helpful in ways I never thought imaginable. This is not a road you go alone. Everyone knows it takes an army.
When you have no budget but a lot of emotional support, time becomes your most valuable asset. I spent years learning how to produce under people whom I admired, who were kind enough to answer my messages about needing help, and by watching countless videos on YouTube. I spent a while digging deep, figuring out what being an artist means and how to present myself, talking to people in the industry who I looked up to about their experiences. I learned how to produce and finessed my songwriting skills by cold-calling and working with as many people as I could.
The one thing that has helped me across the board has been persistence. I had to re-wire my brain but eventually learned not to stop when the word “no” got thrown at me.
If I had given up, I wouldn’t be at the point I am at now. This is a point that had once only materialized in my dreams. I never thought I would actually be an artist and release music. I never thought I’d be producing and writing for others as well as for myself. I never thought I’d have the confidence to do any of it to be honest. But the fire has not gone out. Even when there are times when I feel like it might, I can take comfort in the fact that as long as I’m still breathing, it’s still burning.
-Illicit Ghost