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Mozart's tennis lesson
My Dearest Tortured Composer,
I write to you today with a composing lesson from the most unlikely of sources.
One that can help make writing music wayyyy easier.
And even let you have more fun in the process.
Without starting to drink absinthe or other strange substances to inspire creativity.
You see, I've discovered that some of the best lessons about composing and music often come from sources outside of music.
And one of the greatest I've (re)discovered lately has been from tennis.
More specifically, from the book The Inner Game of Tennis.
Now you might be wondering what exactly a book about tennis could have to do with composing.
You may have even read that book or The Inner Game of Music.
I've read both, and oddly I found The Inner Game of Tennis to be a better book for composers than The Inner Game of Music.
Not sure why yet, but I will ponder on it.
You see, in this book about tennis is one of the most important lessons you can ever discover about music.
Because once you discover it, writing music almost becomes automatic.
The Two Selves Fighting Inside You
The book introduces the concepts of Self 1 and Self 2.
Self 1 is the thinking part of your brain that is verbal. The critic. The theory-quoting know-it-all.
Self 2 is the subconscious part. The part that actually knows how to do things.
In the book, Timothy Gallwey discusses how so many tennis players get stuck in Self 1 mode.
They berate themselves and try to talk their way into playing well. They mentally say the sentences that make a good forehand. Hold your hand like this. Stand with your feet side to side.
They rehearse words and sentences of what they "should be doing."
But this leaves many of them stuck and unable to improve.
Self 2 is different.
If you've ever found yourself driving and realized you weren't paying attention, and yet miraculously didn't crash, that was Self 2.
If you’ve ever found yourself driving and realized you weren’t paying attention, and yet you DID crash, I don’t know what to tell you. But composing music is probably the least of your worries right now.
The Night My Fingers Knew More Than My Brain
I had a moment like this myself.
Was working in a studio where we were all working on a song. Had instruments out everywhere.
Now I am far from having perfect pitch. Most of the time anything but.
In this moment, there was a guy with a guitar jamming over the track trying to come up with an idea.
He played something and at that moment everyone pointed and was like "Oh that's it, that's the idea!"
We weren't recording though and everyone thought it was lost. He couldn't remember it.
I sat down at the keyboard and played it back in key exactly without trying at all.
Shocked me at the time because this was many years ago.
No thought went into it. Just like my fingers knew what to do. This has happened many times since.
The Salieri Syndrome
You see what many people do when they compose is try to use Self 1.
They read books, watch videos, and figure out music theory.
Then they try to pull out sentences and principles from those books using verbal cues.
"This melody should go higher and it needs a call and response."
Maybe you've even heard music like this. It follows all the principles but doesn't seem to click or make sense.
It's very stale. Very dry.
If you've seen the movie Amadeus, the fictional character of Salieri embodies this perfectly.
He takes music painfully seriously. It is his sacred mission to serve God.
In the film, Salieri literally says: "Lord, make me a great composer. Let me celebrate your glory through music and be celebrated myself. Make me famous through the world, dear God. Make me immortal."
He bargains with God. Promises chastity, industry, humility. Turns music into a moral transaction.
His melodies come out stale, boring, "by the book."
Meanwhile, Mozart arrives, vulgar, childish, making fart jokes.
And music pours out of him like breathing.
The most devastating moment comes when Salieri looks at Mozart's manuscripts. No corrections. No scratched-out notes.
Salieri says: "He had simply written down music already finished in his head. Page after page of it, as if he were just taking dictation."
This destroys Salieri. Because he's been using Self 1. Trying really really really hard, suffering, moral worthiness to try to deserve excellence.
In the movie, Mozart is pure Self 2. He's not thinking about deserving anything. He's not trying. He's just... composing.
Salieri's fundamental belief: "If I suffer enough, I deserve excellence."
Mozart's approach: "Ooh, this sounds fun!"
Now obviously, this film is fiction. Main story didn’t really happen.
But the lesson remains!
So let’s continue on with…
How To Compose With Self 2
But if you want to, you can compose with Self 2.
Where you aren't “trying.” You're putting in the effort, putting down notes. But you aren't putting in a ton of effort.
That's why I recommend the "splurge" approach developed by Mike Monday. Splurging is a way of making music. There are four rules:
ZERO focus on quality
100% focus on speed
Always export an audio file and save the project file
Do not listen back for at least 3 days (7 is better!)
These rules essentially allow you to tap into Self 2 and ignore Self 1.
You're pushing notes out without thinking.
And while many people assume this would produce worse results, when I've used it frequently I end up writing much better music.
Is some of it vile trash that would offend the sensibilities of Glenn Gould?
Of course. I am convinced I have written some of the worst music in the history of mankind!
I wear that badge with honor.
But is some of it halfway decent? Or at least music I am proud of?
You better your little tortured composer behind it is.
The Proof Is In The Playing
Try doing 10 of these splurges over the next month, then wait 7 days and listen back.
Some will be terrible. But many will be incredible.
And if you want some inspiration, watch Amadeus first.
Try to do it with that playful attitude that Mozart embodies in the film.
He takes his art seriously, but he is much more playful.
I found the following tweet from David Perell that perfectly embodies this principle:
"Have spent the holidays reading about world-class creatives, and a core theme is how many of the very best ones bring a lack of seriousness to their craft. They're playful and goofy and spontaneous, as if to say: 'The rest of you are taking this wayyyyyyy too seriously.' Meanwhile, the stragglers behind them have clenched fists as if a lack of effort accounts for the delta between where they are and where they'd like to be."
Let go. Have fun. Enjoy the process.
Self 2 is all about awareness. Notice what is happening in the music without judgment. And make your next decision.
Why You're Tortured (And How To Stop)
This is The Tortured Composer Society.
And in truth, the name is meant to be a little tongue in cheek.
Part of the reason people get so tortured is because they make music the meaning of their life.
The problem isn't: "You care too much."
It's: "You care in the wrong way."
Caring through:
Fear
Comparison
Justification
Effort-as-virtue
...kills play.
Really though, the highest performers look unserious because they've stopped using effort as a substitute for trust.
Mozart isn't mocking effort.
In the movie, he's bypassing self-interference. He's got almost no Self 1 interference going on.
So could you make your composing a little more playful?
Could you get back to some of the things you really ENJOY doing?
Is there any way you could try to enjoy the process more instead of trying to write better music?
What would be the most fun way for you to compose?
Think on it for a few days.
Now I can already hear it, some people will read this email and not understand. How could making music be torturous? It's supposed to be fun, right?
Others will read it and immediately understand what I'm talking about.
The endless cycle of starting pieces and never finishing them.
The 3 AM sessions that end with you hating everything you've ever written, selling your computer, your music gear, your instrument. Packing everything up and moving to a remote village in Thailand and becoming an Instagram travel influencer.
I only know because I was so wildly stuck it would put most composers' complaints to shame.
I couldn't finish ANYTHING. But I had literally hundreds of open projects.
It felt like I was a cursed loser incapable of doing anything.
I wanted to make music. I NEEDED to make music.
Why couldn't I?
It was like drowning in the middle of a dried up pond with all my high school crushes standing on the edge and laughing at me.
Then I watched a few videos, met a few people, and discovered there was a different way of creating.
One where the music just flowed out. Where Self 2 took the wheel and Self 1 shut up.
And so I took everything I learned from fixing my own darn self and probably around 30-50 other composers I've worked with as a "coach."
All the mental tricks. The practical exercises. The ways to bypass your inner Salieri.
I took all of that and put it into a little e-book called "The Composer's Block Cure.”
You can get it right now for just $5.
And this could change how you compose forever.
I put all the details on a page you can visit by clicking the link below:
And remember...
The world waits for your music...
(But it doesn't need you to suffer for it)
-Luke
At Tortured Composer's Society, it's our mission to create and provide a community that helps you live a more creative and fulfilling life as a composer. When Tortured Composer's Society was established in 1685 (or thereabouts), we wanted to make the community an inclusive, welcoming table where everyone can come to overcome their creative blocks and thrive as composers.
We believe that every composer, from the bedroom producer to the concert hall maven, deserves a place to explore their craft without judgment. Our community understands the unique challenges of staring at blank manuscript paper at 3 AM, the peculiar torture of hearing a melody in your head that refuses to translate to the page, and the specific type of existential crisis that comes from comparing your work to Bach's while eating cold pizza in your pajamas.
We will always aim to get better at what we do every single day. This means constantly refining our understanding of what makes composers tick, what makes them stuck, and what makes them suddenly breakthrough at the most unexpected moments. We study the patterns of creativity, the psychology of artistic blocks, and the practical realities of making music in a world that often doesn't understand why you need absolute silence to hear the French horn line in your head.
In addition, our primary focus is on our relationship with you. This isn't about broadcasting generic advice into the void. It's about understanding the specific flavors of torture that each composer experiences. Some of you are tortured by perfectionism. Others by comparison. Still others by the haunting suspicion that maybe you should have become an accountant like your mother suggested. We see you. We understand you. We're here for all of it.
This way, every time you hang out with us, you end up getting an idea that takes your compositions to the next level. Sometimes that idea is a technical solution to a thorny orchestration problem. Sometimes it's permission to write something terrible. Sometimes it's just knowing that someone else out there also had to Google "what note is the open G string on a violin" for the hundredth time.
We particularly appreciate when our following provides feedback via testimonials, reviews, and comments left on our site or social media accounts. Your stories of breakthrough moments, creative disasters, and everything in between help shape our understanding of the composer's journey. When you tell us about the time you accidentally wrote a fugue in your sleep, or when you finally understood what secondary dominants were after years of confusion, these stories become part of our collective knowledge base.
Because with that feedback, we can use it to make your next newsletter even better than the last. We're constantly refining our approach based on what resonates with you. Did a particular analogy finally make modal interchange click? Did a creative exercise unlock something you'd been struggling with for months? We want to know about it.
Since we put so much effort into the relationship with you, we hope that any investment in us is exactly the way you hoped it would be. Whether that investment is your time reading these emails, your emotional investment in trying our exercises, or eventually perhaps joining our community in a more formal way, we take that trust seriously.
Because by choosing to go with Tortured Composer's Society, it's our promise that we provide a community you will fall in love with over and over again. A place where your creative struggles are understood, where your small victories are celebrated, and where someone will always understand why you're excited about discovering a new chord voicing.
Now, as much as we care about making the world more musical and more creative, we also care about your privacy. In an age where every click is tracked and every preference is monetized, we believe your creative journey should remain yours. We're committed to the right to your privacy and strive to provide a safe and secure user experience.
Our Privacy Policy explains how we collect, store and use personal information, provided by you on our website. We don't sell your information to companies who want to market sample libraries to you (though honestly, you probably already have too many). We don't share your struggles with perfectionism with companies selling meditation apps. Your creative journey is your own, and we're simply honored to be a small part of it.
It also explains important information that ensures we won't abuse the information that you provide to us in good faith. When you tell us about your compositional challenges, your victories, your preferred DAW, or your secret love of parallel fifths, that information stays with us.
By accessing and using our website, you can trust that what you want to be kept private, will be kept private. Your unfinished symphonies, your experimental phase with serialism, that time you tried to write a rap opera—all of it remains confidential.
If at any time, you would like to read our Privacy Policy and get a better understanding of your rights and liabilities under the law, feel free to visit our site, find the privacy policy in the footer and read it. It's written in plain English, not legalese, because we believe you should actually understand what you're agreeing to.
If there is something you are concerned about or wish to get more clarity on, please let us know by contacting us at [email protected]. Whether it's a privacy concern, a creative question, or just wanting to share your latest compositional triumph, we're here for it.
The Privacy Policy also informs you of how to notify us to stop using your personal information. If you decide that our particular brand of compositional torture isn't for you, we make it easy to step away. No hard feelings. The world of music is vast, and everyone must find their own path through it.
If you wish to view our official policies, please visit our website TorturedComposers.com. There you'll find not just policies, but resources, exercises, and a growing collection of stories from composers just like you who are navigating the beautiful, terrible, wonderful world of music creation.
Remember, composing is not just about the notes you write. It's about the journey of becoming someone who writes those notes. Every struggle, every breakthrough, every moment of doubt and every moment of clarity—they're all part of the process. We're here to make that process a little less lonely and a lot more fun.
The world waits for your music, but there's no rush. Take your time. Make mistakes. Write garbage. Write gold. Write everything in between. We'll be here for all of it.