Bold Steps

The Bluejacket Creative

This week, I'm thinking about the concept of boldness. Taking chances. I don't know about you, but I've not exactly been keen to step up and do something out of the ordinary, and I've been wondering why. Is it because of the past year? Is it because I've set expectations of what I should or shouldn't do? Am I assuming you have expectations of what I do? Am I just scared?

Maybe a little of all three if I'm honest with myself. That said, back on episode 372 of this fine bit of poddlement I talked about a period of self-reflection on turning 50 and what I was and wasn't willing to deal with anymore. The more I think about it, the more I'm not willing to be afraid of taking chances with what I do. More to the point, I'm dropping some baggage related to it. For years, I've had this battle in my head about being one thing all the time or being Roley, who is not one thing all the time.

I got reminded of this the other night listening to an album that should have never been made. Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music. There are many stories about this album being a fuck you to fans or a way to get out of a record contract, but let's put that all aside for a moment. At its core, Metal Machine Music is an experiment. It's discordant, and it's screechy, it's industrial, it's grating. All of that is true. But do you have any doubt that much of the guitar work we see today, or some of the most popular bands in the past 40 years, have listened to this at least once? I guarantee you Trent Reznor has. I think one of the most critical failures in rock music in its 65-year history gave birth to ideas we didn't see until much later, and that's the triumph of it.

But the real message is in the liner notes of the album. He writes, “Most of you won’t like this, and I don’t blame you at all. It’s not meant for you.” He's right. It wasn't. It was an experiment and an exercise in indulgence. It's the sonic act of music folding back on itself and collapsing, of electricity copulating and feedback exploding until all you hear is a wall of fuck you, clear as day.

It's the creative act of a mad scientist, and it's fucking brilliant.

Want another example? Look at David Bowie. Any version, because there are so many versions of David Bowie and so many different music styles you can find with him, is the point. Bob Dylan, too. They made the albums they wanted to make for the most part, and if you didn't like the new one, you knew that the next one was going to be different.

You didn't like the African vibe on Paul Simon's Graceland? Cool. Check out The Rhythm of The Saints, and it's Latin influence.

David Byrne ANY GODDAMN THING.

Bjork left Planet Earth and does what she wants, and people dig it, or they don't.

They decided that they could be bold. They took chances. Some didn't work. Some didn't work at the time. Some are home runs from the gate. All of it was an idea they couldn't wait to work on.

If we're looking for permission to be ourselves and do the thing we want and be unafraid and unapologetic, I think Lou Reed gave it to us decades ago. Do the thing. Be bold. Take chances, and stop caring what people think.

So! If you had no fear, what is your bold creative project? Use the hashtag #boldcreate2021 and share it with me. There may be a surprise in store for people who share.