For this assighnment, we were asked to write an essay about an event that has happened/is happening in our life. I decided to write about an ongoing dilemma with what I want my future career to be. Since I was 13, I've falled in love with the genre of music known as EDM, or Electronic Dance Music. My friend, as I mention in the Essay, has shown me a program that I can put all of my melodies that I've come up with on the piano, into a computer. I've been using this program ever sense, and recently I had finished my first song. However, this is where my passion becomes complicated. Being known and acquiring exposure are the two most complicated yet important attributes to becoming a popular EDM producer, or really, any music related job that requires a fan base. I want my music to be heard, but I don't know how. This Personal Essay shows my love and dissapointment for the music industry.

The Opaque Door

There would always be a conveyer belt in front of me, I knew this. A conveyer belt that, no matter what, will always take me to the same destination. Sometimes, the worn down rubber would jerk forwards and backwards. Sometimes, it would completely shut down altogether. Even if the power was turned back on and it began moving again, I would still be brought to the same destiny. Everyone always seems to take the conveyer belt, because it provided a reassurance that no matter what, everything will work itself out, everyone but me. Not once in the past year have I stopped to look at this mundane machinery. Next to the conveyer belt I found multiple treacherous and unforgiving roads, paved with spikes and shards of glass. However, I noticed that found at the end of these roads was a beautiful cloudless rainfall in a grassy open meadow near a beach, a scene that I could easily recall as heaven. I was determined to find this glory at the end of the obstacle proned road.

It was finally the last week of summer. The air blew calmingly, birds found the highest branches to rest in, and the clouds never blocked the sun. I had been working on a new melody I had discovered on the piano, involving a few chords on the lower hand accompanied by singular notes on my right hand. The notes sounded like water gliding on a cool surface of marble, coming together so gently in a harmonious rhythm. It was about this time that my friend, Edgar, introduced me to a digital audio workstation called FL Studio. I began to put my chords and single notes into each key, filling the void slowly through intricate colors and patterns. The notes once again began to flow into one another, this time a continuous line of electricity between two poles. I began to stack synthesizers onto each of the piano chords, a sound reminiscent of the first song I couldn’t stop listening to. My friend and I, after weeks of producing the song, finally finished the final product. It was a song I was more than proud enough to call my own.

It wasn’t until recently that I have come to face the hardships of what this career path could be leading to. We began to send the song into EDM blogs, new producers, old producers, record labels and anything we could get our hands on. Hardly any of them have gotten back to us, and most of them have declined us politely. Our hopes and dreams began to drop, so we retaliated by beginning to produce a new track. A week goes by and we finally send our second track in only to get the same result. I began to realize that the music industry isn’t what I thought it to be: there was no room for error and no pity given to newcomers.

I have come to learn through this ongoing experience that some roads are difficult and risky to take as they can either make or break you in the sense of being successful or not. I have also learned that there are some roads easier to take, to follow the simple path of life as if it was mapped out for you in the exact order you had to execute it in. Life can be difficult at times but in the end, I strive to do anything that makes me a non-conformist, whether it be impossible or simple. Afterall, conformity is the self betrayal of one’s well being.