Today I turned off comments, again.
A few days before publishing this, I found myself cursing out trolls and unsolicited advisors in the comments of my Instagram reels. That is not SOP for me, so at that moment I briefly turned off comments and reigned myself in, but damn, people just. don’t. know. my story. But… can I blame them?
(BTW, I am hoping this is the last, if not one of the last, articles I write that is inspired by a frustration sprung from social media.)
People on Reels Don’t Know My Whole Story
Some people on reels don’t know that I have released over 100 songs.
Some people on reels don’t know that I’ve been creating music for 15 years.
Some people on reels think I am egotistical, delusional and doomed to fail.
///////////////////////////////////////
So I asked myself, how can I find a way to share my whole story so people can make an informed judgment on whether or not they want to invest their time, attention and potentially money into me and my work? I want to write a book, but that’s going to take some time. I considered a manifesto-style e-book, but that quickly gave way to the answer: a mini documentary. So, I am working on that and hope to have it out next month. In the meantime, this article can set the stage for why I feel like I need to tell my whole story.
///////////////////////////////////////
As I said, people that find me on reels don’t know that I have released over 100 songs since 2010. If they don’t know that, there’s no way they would know that my message/mission/vision has been the same, at the core, since I was 21 and is found in a vast majority of my song lyrics. So why should I expect them to understand anything beyond what is spoon fed to them on the short-form slot machine? I shouldn’t.
People finding me on reels also don’t know that I have been creating for 15 years in various respects, so with no tangible success to show for it, all they see is a 36-year-old nobody flailing about, reciting “word salad” lyrics on their little screen, all while their programmed brain automatically and by default lumps me in with every other wannabe, satire or just-starting-out artist that graced their screen a few swipes ago.
Some other people that find me on reels think I am egotistical and/or conceited. Not because of my music, but because I either 1) don’t take their unsolicited comment-section advice, 2) talk about myself and my vision with clarity and confidence, or 3) call out harsh truths about society and the music industry at large. Essentially, I don’t fit into their purview of the world.
Finally, people that find me on reels have no concept of my timeline as an artist and therefore have no idea that in early autumn 2025 I was posting a previously-produced-and-published archive of videos that spans 18-months, and that it took me that long to produce them all. No, they don’t know that, so they think that I 1) don’t work and 2) delusionally go out every day and record myself dancing like a monkey with the hopes of striking it big with a viral reel so I can get a record deal. Hmph. As if!
Don’t even get me started on the people sharing unsolicited technical advice in the comments. They act as if even though I executive produced “Boomerang,” “35” and “Life is a Ride,” that I am unaware of the technical/production shortcomings in my current music, and that those shortcomings are what is preventing me from “making it.” Give me a break.
Viewers Think They Know What I Want
People that find me on reels also think they know what I personally want solely based on the reel they found me on. Because of this disconnection of the art from the artist, everyday, without fail, a stranger on Instagram takes it upon themselves to make sure I know that I will never be a pop star. Well, no shit. I have never said (as Chad Rising) that I want to be a pop star. I don’t want to fit in. I don’t want to be trendy. Why then do they think that, when it is so far from actual reality? Probably because I use the word “pop” in the broadest sense, aka “popular” aka “commonplace.”
But again, can I blame people on reels for not knowing the real me, when they are only and intentionally served up fragmented, infinitesimal looks at my life and work by the algorithm? Can I blame them for that? I don’t think so–and I want to give my passive viewers more credit, but–damn, social media makes it HARD.
Here’s What I Do Want
I want to inspire and be a spark for meaningful change, both in the individual (listener) and the collective (society.) I want to encourage critical thinking and analysis of one’s self, society and surroundings.
Even though those are two clear and simple statements, are they so far removed from the canon of “social media music” that the meaning is impenetrable to the dope’d up minds of the passive viewer? It is an irreversibly crossed wire; an impossible vibrational match? Are the collectively agreed upon pre-conceptions of what music artists should do, be, look like, sing about, or act like on short form video an impossible hurdle for me? Maybe, but I persist.
To Change The World With Music
“Change the world with music, he says!” Yes, I do.
I want to instigate and help lead the collective energy of a crowd in vocalization of positively-charged lyrics and the physical expression of said collective energy via movement along with a beat. (What I am describing is putting on an epic live show.)
Essentially, to make it crystal clear, I want to engage and uplift people in the way they are engaged and uplifted in a church or spiritual setting, but without the dogma. It’s interesting because houses of worship provide a safe space for humans to exercise all kinds of healing and energy-processing modalities in a very similar way that live music concerts do, yet we are conditioned to see them as polar opposites within our culture. They are not opposites, they are two sides of the same coin, that coin is expression and connection to the soul.
This overlapping of popular music and house of worship is what I want to inflate, combining the physical and vocal freedom of both into an ultimate uplifting experience. This is the Venn diagram I want to scale; positively-charged group participation and immersion through song. I keep saying it but I’ll say it again, it’s about the positive charge of the moment and the message of the lyrics, not the LED screens, the big stage, or the fame, allure and sensationalism of the performer. That is what is unique to my purpose with music. In most contemporary pop music concerts, is the artist there to help heal the world via higher, collective purpose? Or are they there to placate the ego?
The industry has changed since the last time an artist wanted to do such a thing with music, so, there is no blueprint to follow; no contemporary figure to point to as validation. People seem to forget about the time when music moved mountains. Because of this, people that find me on reels relentlessly place all kinds of blueprints over me, and when I don’t fit in the carefully designed and engineered lines, I fail the acid test of legitimacy, which can equate to a lost fan/listener. Who cares if the record itself is great anymore. Now, the acid test is whether or not an “artist” can retain a viewer’s attention for 10 or 20 seconds straight, while simultaneously competing with the entirety of the world’s catalogue of media. A test like this is not testing for impact, it’s testing for addiction. I choose impact over addiction.
Maybe They Know Too Much
In this article, I purport that people that find me on reels don’t know enough about me to become a new fan. But what if it’s the opposite?
Maybe we aren’t supposed to see anything about an artist except their work until we, the viewer, want to. As in–maybe pushing artists to share the of their personalities, personal life and values wasn’t a great call for society. Maybe turning every public figure into a reality show wasn’t the healthiest programming choice for society. The long documented truth is that true artists’ lives are messy and complicated, which might be great for views, but not great for selling records.
I wonder, if I just released music and didn’t make short form content, would people on reels think the things they do now? Would they think, “Oh, his music is alright! Let me go see him live,” and they would proceed to listen to the record over and over in anticipation to seeing me live. Once they see me live, in a legit music venue, with a microphone in my hand and a drink in theirs, wouldn’t that automatically validate me as a serious artist? I think so. That’s how it worked before digital technology; the audience knew the recording, only the recording, and they knew that they were privileged, PRIVILEGED I say, to attend a live performance; to be in the same room as the artist that created their beloved recording.
Would They Even Know Then?
If people on reels knew everything I’ve mentioned above, would they still offer their unsolicited opinions, perspectives, suggestions, backhanded or half-assed compliments? Yes, but probably less. There will always be people that want to put an artist below them, (they’re called agents and A&R lol,) but for real, would basing their perspective of me solely on sound recording or commercially produced music video evoke a different response from new and passive viewers? I think so.
Let’s see where this goes.
Today I turned off comments, again.
Today I turned off comments, again.
A few days before publishing this, I found myself cursing out trolls and unsolicited advisors in the comments of my Instagram reels. That is not SOP for me, so at that moment I briefly turned off comments and reigned myself in, but damn, people just. don’t. know. my story. But… can I blame them?
(BTW, I am hoping this is the last, if not one of the last, articles I write that is inspired by a frustration sprung from social media.)
People on Reels Don’t Know My Whole Story
Some people on reels don’t know that I have released over 100 songs.
Some people on reels don’t know that I’ve been creating music for 15 years.
Some people on reels think I am egotistical, delusional and doomed to fail.
///////////////////////////////////////
So I asked myself, how can I find a way to share my whole story so people can make an informed judgment on whether or not they want to invest their time, attention and potentially money into me and my work? I want to write a book, but that’s going to take some time. I considered a manifesto-style e-book, but that quickly gave way to the answer: a mini documentary. So, I am working on that and hope to have it out next month. In the meantime, this article can set the stage for why I feel like I need to tell my whole story.
///////////////////////////////////////
As I said, people that find me on reels don’t know that I have released over 100 songs since 2010. If they don’t know that, there’s no way they would know that my message/mission/vision has been the same, at the core, since I was 21 and is found in a vast majority of my song lyrics. So why should I expect them to understand anything beyond what is spoon fed to them on the short-form slot machine? I shouldn’t.
People finding me on reels also don’t know that I have been creating for 15 years in various respects, so with no tangible success to show for it, all they see is a 36-year-old nobody flailing about, reciting “word salad” lyrics on their little screen, all while their programmed brain automatically and by default lumps me in with every other wannabe, satire or just-starting-out artist that graced their screen a few swipes ago.
Some other people that find me on reels think I am egotistical and/or conceited. Not because of my music, but because I either 1) don’t take their unsolicited comment-section advice, 2) talk about myself and my vision with clarity and confidence, or 3) call out harsh truths about society and the music industry at large. Essentially, I don’t fit into their purview of the world.
Finally, people that find me on reels have no concept of my timeline as an artist and therefore have no idea that in early autumn 2025 I was posting a previously-produced-and-published archive of videos that spans 18-months, and that it took me that long to produce them all. No, they don’t know that, so they think that I 1) don’t work and 2) delusionally go out every day and record myself dancing like a monkey with the hopes of striking it big with a viral reel so I can get a record deal. Hmph. As if!
Don’t even get me started on the people sharing unsolicited technical advice in the comments. They act as if even though I executive produced “Boomerang,” “35” and “Life is a Ride,” that I am unaware of the technical/production shortcomings in my current music, and that those shortcomings are what is preventing me from “making it.” Give me a break.
Viewers Think They Know What I Want
People that find me on reels also think they know what I personally want solely based on the reel they found me on. Because of this disconnection of the art from the artist, everyday, without fail, a stranger on Instagram takes it upon themselves to make sure I know that I will never be a pop star. Well, no shit. I have never said (as Chad Rising) that I want to be a pop star. I don’t want to fit in. I don’t want to be trendy. Why then do they think that, when it is so far from actual reality? Probably because I use the word “pop” in the broadest sense, aka “popular” aka “commonplace.”
But again, can I blame people on reels for not knowing the real me, when they are only and intentionally served up fragmented, infinitesimal looks at my life and work by the algorithm? Can I blame them for that? I don’t think so–and I want to give my passive viewers more credit, but–damn, social media makes it HARD.
Here’s What I Do Want
I want to inspire and be a spark for meaningful change, both in the individual (listener) and the collective (society.) I want to encourage critical thinking and analysis of one’s self, society and surroundings.
Even though those are two clear and simple statements, are they so far removed from the canon of “social media music” that the meaning is impenetrable to the dope’d up minds of the passive viewer? It is an irreversibly crossed wire; an impossible vibrational match? Are the collectively agreed upon pre-conceptions of what music artists should do, be, look like, sing about, or act like on short form video an impossible hurdle for me? Maybe, but I persist.
To Change The World With Music
“Change the world with music, he says!” Yes, I do.
I want to instigate and help lead the collective energy of a crowd in vocalization of positively-charged lyrics and the physical expression of said collective energy via movement along with a beat. (What I am describing is putting on an epic live show.)
Essentially, to make it crystal clear, I want to engage and uplift people in the way they are engaged and uplifted in a church or spiritual setting, but without the dogma. It’s interesting because houses of worship provide a safe space for humans to exercise all kinds of healing and energy-processing modalities in a very similar way that live music concerts do, yet we are conditioned to see them as polar opposites within our culture. They are not opposites, they are two sides of the same coin, that coin is expression and connection to the soul.
This overlapping of popular music and house of worship is what I want to inflate, combining the physical and vocal freedom of both into an ultimate uplifting experience. This is the Venn diagram I want to scale; positively-charged group participation and immersion through song. I keep saying it but I’ll say it again, it’s about the positive charge of the moment and the message of the lyrics, not the LED screens, the big stage, or the fame, allure and sensationalism of the performer. That is what is unique to my purpose with music. In most contemporary pop music concerts, is the artist there to help heal the world via higher, collective purpose? Or are they there to placate the ego?
The industry has changed since the last time an artist wanted to do such a thing with music, so, there is no blueprint to follow; no contemporary figure to point to as validation. People seem to forget about the time when music moved mountains. Because of this, people that find me on reels relentlessly place all kinds of blueprints over me, and when I don’t fit in the carefully designed and engineered lines, I fail the acid test of legitimacy, which can equate to a lost fan/listener. Who cares if the record itself is great anymore. Now, the acid test is whether or not an “artist” can retain a viewer’s attention for 10 or 20 seconds straight, while simultaneously competing with the entirety of the world’s catalogue of media. A test like this is not testing for impact, it’s testing for addiction. I choose impact over addiction.
Maybe They Know Too Much
In this article, I purport that people that find me on reels don’t know enough about me to become a new fan. But what if it’s the opposite?
Maybe we aren’t supposed to see anything about an artist except their work until we, the viewer, want to. As in–maybe pushing artists to share the of their personalities, personal life and values wasn’t a great call for society. Maybe turning every public figure into a reality show wasn’t the healthiest programming choice for society. The long documented truth is that true artists’ lives are messy and complicated, which might be great for views, but not great for selling records.
I wonder, if I just released music and didn’t make short form content, would people on reels think the things they do now? Would they think, “Oh, his music is alright! Let me go see him live,” and they would proceed to listen to the record over and over in anticipation to seeing me live. Once they see me live, in a legit music venue, with a microphone in my hand and a drink in theirs, wouldn’t that automatically validate me as a serious artist? I think so. That’s how it worked before digital technology; the audience knew the recording, only the recording, and they knew that they were privileged, PRIVILEGED I say, to attend a live performance; to be in the same room as the artist that created their beloved recording.
Would They Even Know Then?
If people on reels knew everything I’ve mentioned above, would they still offer their unsolicited opinions, perspectives, suggestions, backhanded or half-assed compliments? Yes, but probably less. There will always be people that want to put an artist below them, (they’re called agents and A&R lol,) but for real, would basing their perspective of me solely on sound recording or commercially produced music video evoke a different response from new and passive viewers? I think so.
Let’s see where this goes.
Join my Discord server for direct access and community.
My Music
Listen to my music on all major streaming platforms.
My Merch
Designed-by-me and options for all price points.