Writing – Page 3 – Dan Steven Erickson

My Internal Battle between Art and Pop

I’ve been a creator for my entire life. I started writing songs and plays when I was eight. The first play I wrote was called, Commercial Christmas. I’m not sure how I understood at such a young age that Christmas was an over-commercialized sales event, but I did. And there started my internal battle between art and pop.

My early songs had nothing to do with wanting to write hits. I just thought it was fun, and I used words to express my feelings. My first song, Screaming Mad, was written when I was mad at my mom.

Screaming mad
Close my eyes
Feel like crying
Screaming mad
Close my eyes
Feel like dying
Screaming mad

Throughout my teens, as the child victim of a cult, I wrote songs in my head as means of escape while working as a slave. By then, however, I was dreaming about my songs becoming top-40 hits. I was becoming educated in pop.

We are trained to follow the trends.

The entertainment and media business might just be the biggest enemy of art. Sure, if it weren’t for media, many musicians, writers, and artists would never be known. But when anything becomes mass produced and promoted through a system that reaches the majority of people within a culture, it shapes the art. The art becomes a part of popular culture.

Pop.

When Elvis and The Beatles came on the scene, what did every young American boy want? To become like them. This created imitation. Pop wins. Art takes a back seat.

The majority of my work is simply a mirror.

As a young songwriter in my 20s, my goal was to be discovered. Therefore, I wrote songs I thought would be “hits.” I was basically a mirror of everything I listened to on the radio, a reflection of the musical culture of my time.

As I continued to write, I also continued to discover new music, and old. I went deeper into the past and discovered blues and traditional country. Again, I became a reflection of what I heard. I might have been a mirror to the past, but I was still imitating. And even though I was writing deep country and blues, I still sensed more pop than art.

Even so, through the years, I was becoming an artist in my own right. I didn’t always write with the intent of getting hits, and I didn’t always imitate my idols. I slowly found my own voice in the arena of song. Still, I felt the majority of my catalog was pop. I suppose this has to do with formula. Most songs have verses, choruses, bridges, expected patterns. That within itself feels more like pop than art.

Weird songs, ambient music, and abstract photography.

Sometime in my mid-40s I started to become disillusioned with my songwriting journey. I was tired of writing songs that sounded like all the other songs ever written. Around that time, I also discovered Bill Callahan. His songs were different. They did not follow the formula. So, I wrote a batch of songs that also did not follow traditional songwriting formula. But I was still being a mirror, an imitator.

It wasn’t until I started playing with electronic music programming that I really broke away from formula. I experimented. I became a composer of chaos and drone. Nothing had to make sense. The digital audio workshop was my canvas. Sometimes, I’d recite odd poems over the top of a composition. Or I’d go sample strange sounds and program them into the mix.

I was free from formula. However, in time, I found that even weird music has its own formula, it’s just less obvious. Still, I feel that my work as an electronic music composer has been my strongest art.

Around the same time, in my early-to-mid 50s, I started taking more pictures. Although, I primarily like scenic photography, I also found myself drawn toward taking photos in ways that were very abstract.

Art.

The dilemma.

After about seven years of playing with ambient, drone, and experimental compositions, I returned to more traditional songwriting. It was exciting to feel that old rush of energy when words and music come together. Just as I did when I was younger, I knew many of the songs I was writing had commercial potential. Yep. I was back to pop.

Thus, the dilemma. If you follow media, culture, trends, you regurgitate it. You are part of an echo chamber. You are pop. From an artist’s perspective, that can feel cheap and phony, even if what you’re doing is good. It feels like a product, even if you can’t find buyers.

On the other hand, if you dedicate yourself to things more artistic, many people will not understand your work. They might say, “That looks like a blob. I don’t get it. Can’t you paint a picture?” Furthermore, art almost requires that you turn off the media, walk away from popular culture, ignore trends, isolate yourself, and get lost in your work.

In the end, all of it, pop and art, only has the value we give it as a society, as a culture. Art, however, has one up on pop. Art holds more value to the creator. As a creator, I value my work in which I took more risks, where I was brave enough to allow imagination to override tradition and popular expectation. Although I have had little monetary reward, choosing art over pop creates a greater sense of discovery in the process. It feels more true.

But like most of us, I want to fit in. I want to be understood. I want people to like what I do. And so the internal battle between art and pop continues forevermore. Although, I am giving less shits these days. – dse

Songwriting and Self-Importance

Lower Broadway, Nashville – Photo by Dan Steven Erickson

When I was a young songwriter I didn’t see it. I came to Nashville in the early 1990s and played my songs at open mic nights, and among small groups of singer-songwriters at houses and hotels. We were all having fun. Some writers were good, some sucked. I thought I was okay, but I knew I was still a beginner.

Almost 35 years, and well over 1000 songs later, I’m back in Nashville and my perspective has changed. And let me say, from the outset, I’m guilty of what I’m about to say. Songwriters and musicians, maybe artists in general, are often filled with self-importance.

I moved to Nashville in the fall of 2024 with a huge catalog of songs. But I moved here for work, not to play or plug my songs. Then I unexpectedly stopped working at the start of this month. I have a lease until May 1, 2026. So, I decided to go out and mingle among the musicians and writers.

Everyone tends to talk about themselves.

Among groups of songwriters, I’ve discovered that most songwriters spend the majority of their time telling others about themselves, about their songs, their experiences, and skills. I understand that artists need to market themselves, but I note a self-absorption that is slightly off-putting.

Coming from an educational background in communication, I have the ability to speak in public, but I’ve tried to keep to myself and lay low at these musical gatherings. Perhaps that’s a weakness. Or maybe it’s the nature of what I think the #1 tool of a good songwriter is: observational skills.

Other than my closest friends, and people on my social media, very few acquaintances know that I’m a songwriter. And I often consider eliminating Facebook, my one social media. Although, like any artist, I want my work to be seen and heard, I struggle with the whole self-promotion aspect. It feels too self-important. “Look at me!” Instead of spending hours in the bars promoting myself, I’d rather be writing, reading, or hiking.

The pot calling the kettle black.

You might wonder if I lack confidence because I tend to be reserved among groups, including songwriting groups. Upon some self reflection that is definitely not the case. As I said earlier, I can be just as guilty of being self-absorbed as the next. But I also have a long history of songwriting.

I know there are probably thousands of writers who feel this way, but in the past few years I’ve often referred to myself as, “A Great Undiscovered American Songwriter,” with the emphasis on great or American. You decide.

But I say “great” because I have spent a lifetime learning and honing my craft. I have studied the greats. I have stopped trying to be like anyone else and simply do what I do. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I simply write songs regularly, take ’em or leave ’em.

But does that make what I do important? Not really. Sure, a song could change the world. A song could save a life. Songs can make people happy. They touch us emotionally. They can be therapeutic. But does that mean I’m special or worthy of praise?

I’m just doing something that comes natural to me. It started when I was a child. I heard songs on the radio. I wrote my own. It helped me through six years of being a child victim of a cult. It’s a fun pastime. It’s therapeutic and it has an element of curiosity and discovery. Songs are puzzles. It keeps one’s mind sharp.

But given a choice between spending the rest of my life fighting among the crowded bars and competitive music business (even with a guarantee of success), or simply living my life on my own terms and spending my time doing a variety of things that I love, including songwriting, I’d choose the latter. – dse

When AI Writes the Songs Are We Done?

I’ve been writing songs for a long time. I’ve written more than 1500 songs in a variety of genres. So what happens now, when AI can write the songs? Are we done?

First, AI is simply a tool. It can be used in many ways. It can help musicians and songwriters. It can also help greedy capitalists make more money.

Chances are fair, that for now, as long as people still want to see live music, that AI won’t replace the songwriter immediately or completely. However, it’s my guess that that may change in time.

It seems that everything business revolves around money, and the less human involvement in any production line, the less money spent. Corporations love that.

So what happens when the songwriter is pushed out of the equation? I’m not sure. But I do worry that the more the human race relies on technology and AI, the more ignorant and incapable we will become as a whole.

That will leave us in a very weak position as a species.

Marshall McLuhan said it years ago, “We shape the tools and then the tools shape us.” What are the tools we’ve made making us into? Honestly, they are making us lazy and ignorant.

Here’s something I posted about AI and songwriting a couple months ago. – dse

So this Happened: I Retired!

My plan was to retire on June 1, 2026. But I’ve learned to expect the unexpected. Due to some unforeseen events, I’m officially retired on December 1, 2025. But I’m no longer working at VolState. It’s all going to work for the better.

Due to what was becoming a toxic environment for me at the workplace, I made an-almost impulse decision to retire earlier than I’d planned. I thought about it for about three days. It’s a bit scary, having to turn to social security and retirement funds to survive. Anyone who’s taken this step understands the concern of “what if I run out of money too soon?”

But let’s get something clear for the record. I retired from a full-time job because I could. That doesn’t mean I’m done working. And today it dawned on me that the timing for social security purposes is perfect. (So much for imperfection.)

If I’d have waited until June 1, 2026 to retire, I’d have made over $20,000 in 2026. As a 62 year old collecting social security, there is a limit for annual income. It’s $23,400. That means if I’d have retired on June 1, I wouldn’t have been able to make much money doing part-time work without getting social security held back.

So, what’s next on the agenda?

For now, I’m just settling into the new mode. I’ll likely move from Tennessee back to Maine next spring when my lease is up. But in the meantime I have some potential plans.

Take on a couple of classes as an adjunct if I can. I’m already in touch with Southern Maine Community College, Nashville State Community College and Belmont University.
Play some open mics and writer’s rounds around the region? Maybe. I have mixed feelings about that whole scene.
Do a little regional traveling. I’ll probably wait on any international traveling until I’m settled into a permanent living situation again.
Get some work done on the condo in Maine.
Read, write songs, and write poetry.
Exercise.
Learn more about my camera, maybe even take a class.

That’s enough for now. – dse

The Power of Imperfection

An old garage in Clarksdale MS – Photo by Dan Steven Erickson

If you follow my YouTube Channel you know I’m not a perfectionist. I used to be. But now I understand the power of imperfection.

People who believe they are perfect suffer.

I just retired from my job as an academic advisor. Why? Because although I had no official complaints in regard to my duties, there were a few people who treated me with disdain because I made occasional minor errors. As if they are perfect?

The problem is that a self-deluded sense of perfection creates a disease. A toxicity and animosity grew not only toward me, but toward several others who decided to retire shortly before I did for similar reasons. I watched as people who I looked up to walked away from their positions. I knew there was a fly in the ointment. My sister referred to it as termites in the woodwork. (Expect a future song with that title.)

So when a direct supervisor started pouring on the criticism over petty issues, I knew my time there was done.

As for me, I choose imperfection.

Until my 40s, I was a perfectionist. I’d often leave things incomplete because I didn’t want to fuck them up. But somewhere along the way I came to embrace imperfection. In fact, I might suggest that imperfection, in a sense, is a form of perfection.

Imperfection has power. It creates authenticity, character, and humility. With music, I’d much rather listen to old recordings with imperfect qualities than new music with perfectly programmed beats and bass lines. I’d rather hear an occasional note sung out of key than listen to someone using autotune.

I understand that if one is a doctor, you must operate concisely. However, if one is a teacher, are you expected to give flawless lectures? I don’t think so. As an advisor my crime was not misadvising students, but rather not perfectly understanding the internal operations to a few individuals’ expectations. They expected perfection. I did not deliver. I am human. I am not sorry.

I prefer Wabi-Sabi to finely curated art.

What is Wabi-Sabi? Simply stated, it’s a Japanese aesthetic concept that finds beauty in imperfection, impermanence, and simplicity. It embraces the natural cycle of growth and decay, seeing beauty in humbled, rustic, and weathered things.

I like old guitars better than new ones. I love a weathered home by the sea more than the new shiny ones popping up all around the suburbs of Nashville. In ambient music there is something called disintegration. It’s music that feels like it’s falling apart. It feels both fragile and beautiful. I think that might be considered a form of Wabi-Sabi.

Practice imperfection and carry on.

For those of you who believe you are perfect, or who condemn others for minor mistakes, go ahead and continue to suffer in your lonely worlds 0f perfectionism if you please.

But for those who understand the power of imperfection, don’t worry about the perfectionists who throw you under the bus. But rather, simply do your best and greet imperfection with joy. – dse

It’s that Time of the Year: Goal Setting for 2026

Most people start thinking about the new year in late December. Not me. I often start considering goals and updating my website in October or November. It’s that time of year.

If you’ve followed me since my minimalist days, you might remember that I made an annual post every December. I’d offer a list of resolutions and goals and cross my fingers. About half of my goals were not easily attainable and I’d miss the mark every year. Then about six or seven years ago I said fuck it. No more specific goals.

I still need to hit the reset button.

So, I’m kind of done with setting specific goals about social media, book writing, money, exercise etc. Instead, I tend to occasionally hit the reset button and make general observations about what I’m doing and where I’m going in life.

Of course, life is uncertain, and I like to remain open to spontaneous opportunities, so none of this is written in stone. But here are a few things I’d like to do in the coming year.

10 things I hope to do before the end of next year.

Give my website a simple remodel.
Continue writing and recording songs and music.
Write poetry and consider short story.
Keep walking regularly and participate in other physical activities.
Monitor my health and see experts on my blood condition.
Read on a fairly regular basis.
Consider a second piece of real estate in Kansas or Missouri.
Retire from my current job and move back to Maine.
Create a YouTube Studio in a different location and focus on a few strategies to promote the channel.
Travel and work on becoming a better photographer.

Sounds like a lot, but it’s actually simple.

I’m sure I might think of more, like get a dog or get rid of extra stuff, but that’s the basic list. And here’s the thing. I wrote this list in about five minutes and everything on the list is very doable.

I will likely accomplish at least 8 or 9 things on this list, maybe all of them. Why? Because they are primarily extensions of what I’m already doing. The plans have been set in motion. Number 7 is likely the least certain, but note I said, “consider.” I did not suggest I would definitively buy a second piece of real estate.

So there you have it, an early list of things I hope to accomplish in 2026. I encourage you to make your own list, but keep it relatively loose. – dse