“Be yourself; everyone else is already taken” Oscar Wilde
From day one, we listen to and look up to our musical heroes, those creators and sonic magicians who captivate our attention and inspire our progress. We hold them as “the best,” “the finest,” “the greatest,” etc. But what have they done to earn these titles? Is it their sheer ability? Maybe their level of fame or fortune? Is it the bravado they bring to the stage?
All of these titles are subjective, they’re opinions that differ from one listener to the next. In a world where we constantly see the glamorous good sides of our peers and heroes’ lives, we often forget there’s the other side, the dark side of their moon. I certainly have.
I let my desire to “be the best” consume me for years. I was in bands with other musicians seeking thrones atop gilded staircases. I’ve recorded with artists whose desires are simply the eternal glory of success. I’ve suffered the feelings of inadequacy when less talented musicians rose higher and faster than I did. All of those feelings suck. Those feelings and thoughts are like thieves who steal joy, sometimes more than we’re able to save and invest back into ourselves and our careers. Very quickly we become indebted to the success suits who sit on our shoulders like miniature industry pimps with their yellow sunglasses and collection of platinum albums.
A critical thing happened to me a few years ago, I’d reached a violent impasse. A couple of projects I’d poured so much time and energy into had come to or were coming to, an end. I was paralyzed and doused in all forms of fear. If only sleepless nights had been my suffering, the stress and anxiety of needing to climb the ‘best’ ladder consumed my focus and I found myself hating what I loved the most. But then something snapped. I began to wake up.
This waking up was uncomfortable, it was foreign. I started to shed the
I watched street musicians who didn’t have fine instruments or grand stages to perform on, they just stood there and poured their hearts out for a few bucks. The joy I saw melted me. I started paying attention to recordings of unknown musicians who didn’t have fame like others, but they had fire in their bellies, truth and love erupting from their voices and their strung up wooden boxes. I started to become excited about a new existence as a musician again. Then it clicked.
I found myself racing into the most creative chapter of my life. Music was literally pouring out of me at a rate I couldn’t keep up with. Purple and gold streams of lyrical storytelling came from unexpected depths inside, both of my hands suddenly become one force and launched melodies towards the stars through my violin. I was finally feeling FREE.
There were many forces at work that triggered this surge – some marvelous, some scary, some fleeting, and some I still contend with on a daily basis. Though the initial wave, the first burst of my life as an honest musician has crested, I’ve been reminded by close mentors that we level out at times so we might process the happenings around us. Forward momentum is still happening, but maybe not at such an exaggerated rate. And that’s ok, this is part of growth.
I have no idea when, where, or how the fruits of this season will be shared, but one thing I do feel is clarity and a sense of purpose… I’m simply allowing my musical/spiritual being to reverberate with honesty, not insecure competitiveness. I do not know next when I’ll feel the engines begin to shake like a Saturn V primed for ignition, but I’m not concerned because I know it WILL happen. It will when it should, and that’s part of the odyssey of honest pursuit.
I’ll have more to share as I journey on, hopefully with writings that contain less “I’s” and more “We’s” and “Us’s.” I’m learning, I haven’t nailed it yet, but I’m learning. And that’s as honest as I can be.
A native Texan, Ross Holmes is one of the most recognized musicians and creators of his generation. In addition to contributing performances and arrangements on nearly 300 albums, Holmes has toured with and been a member of Mumford & Sons, Bruce Hornsby and the Noisemaker’s, Warren Haynes’ Ashes & Dust, and countless other luminaries for performances in over 40 countries. In 2018 he was invited to become the youngest member of the iconic Nitty Gritty Dirt Band with whom he currently tours. An outspoken activist and community leader, Ross lives in Nashville, TN with his partner Sarah, and their three children.