Essays by Matthew Wilson

By Matthew Wilson I used to measure my progress as a musician in ways that weren't particularly kind to me. I'd hear a well-produced song or watch someone move easily through a collaboration and wonder why those things seemed so much harder for me. I had a picture of the musician I ought to become: technically proficient, productive, able to remember what I'd learned and pick up where I'd left off. Nobody handed me that standard. I made it for myself, and I kept coming up short. Living with schizoaffective disorder has complicated that picture. Memory, processing, and energy aren't always dependable for me. I can learn something in a music program and still need my notes the next time I open it. When I compared that experience with someone else's fluency, I usually ended up frustrated. For a while I thought the answer was to work harder or find a better routine. Sometimes a new approach helped, but comparison followed me into whatever I tried next. I could finis...

By Matthew Wilson At one point, I imagined the musician I'd eventually become. Around 2015, I began exploring what that might look like. Back then, it was a Korg Kaossilator, a Zoom recorder, and 8-bar loops. Nothing fancy, nothing difficult. I thought my routines would stick, that repetition would create confidence, and that collaborating would be anything but mentally exhausting. I expected familiarity. I expected things to become instinct. I expected songs, workflows, and ideas to stay with me instead of slipping away. Instead, I've found it difficult to retain terminology and maintain a working memory for the things I love. I listen to and make music, talk on my ham radio, and enjoy the technical side of both hobbies. What I wanted out of all of it was consistency. I was often learning and relearning, relying on my notes, forgetting about workflows, and having a hard time recalling things under pressure, knowing all the while that comparison is the thief of joy. Sitting dow...