On Hating Everything You’ve Ever Written

This was originally published on my Substack: Everything—Like Ever—With Nicky Valdes.

“Cringeworthy catalogue of scribbles.” That’s what Alex Turner said about his debut album with the Arctic Monkeys, Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not, to NME in 2018. Sure, it was an album that’s become a part of music history and defined the sound of early 2000s rock music, but Turner didn’t exactly see it that way. At 19, even before the album dropped, the lead singer was in interviews saying things like “don’t believe the hype,” skeptical of the excitement surrounding classic hits like “Mardy Bum” and “You Look Good On the Dancefloor.” Can you believe?!

I saw the Monkeys live in London around 2022. During their encore performance of “Dancefloor,” surrounded by fellow fans (60,000 of us, to be exact), my inner teenager soared. Let’s just say flailing and screaming at the top of my lungs was involved. You wouldn’t have wanted to see that, trust me (or maybe you did, I don’t know what you’re into). Thinking back on that day, it’s unfathomable to imagine that a frontman like Turner could be anything other than grateful to an album that made him one of the biggest music influences of our time.

Source

Then, I give it a think, and wasn’t I a teenager once? Worse, a teenager who liked to write. Yikes. Looking at my old Facebook feed is hard enough. Hell, even reading my old blog posts is tough and I was fully in my 20s for those. My old Tumblr? No no no no no, please god no. So, imagine if those old manuscripts and blog posts were read the world over? Yeah, I’d probably have some derogatory things to say about them too.

And then, I think about it further. Sure, creating art is fun—a personal and, at times, selfish endeavor. Yet, we still have this urge to share it and put it out there. And I think that’s the crux of it. It’s why we release albums, host art shows, and write Substacks. There’s some part of us that knows that once we’ve created something, it no longer belongs to us. It belongs to the world—no matter what state it’s in.

Sure, maybe it’ll be put up to debate, criticism, or judgment OR maybe you’ll become one of the biggest rockstars of all time. Either way, you’re doing something the critics aren’t, and that’s creating. Plus, if Turner is any indication, we’re our own worst critic.

So, write your bad drafts, hit send on your shoddy Tumblr posts, and share your terrible poetry. And once it’s done, send it my way. I’m a part of the world, it belongs to me now.

Now, in his 40s, Turner has changed his tune, but only slightly.

“It’s more fun than ever to play it now. I fell out with it for a moment, somewhere along the way,” he told NME’s Liberty Dunworth during the recent 20thanniversary of the album. “I fall out with all of them at some point… but that’s one I can’t imagine not playing. When it comes around in the set, it’s just fun. We all really enjoy playing it.”

Loving and hating your art is a life-long process, even at rockstar-level heights.

I’ll leave you with this quote from East of Eden. A book I’ve never read but reblogged to my heart’s content on Tumblr, probably.

““Now that you don’t have to be perfect — you can be good.””

— John Steinbeck, East of Eden

Just be good, the world will do the rest.