I listened to the first episode of the Broken Record podcast in which Malcolm Gladwell and Rick Rubin discuss "Walk on Water" - Eminem's new single.
It’s a great listen and wish it was longer but it got me thinking.
As hip hop evolved in the 90's from the old braggadocio old school through gangster rap and beyond I became disenchanted. As more time passed I used to say that, ironically, the only people producing "proper" hip hop were white.
The Beastie Boys and Eminem - that was pretty much it for me for a while. Maybe I just got stuck with a romantic vision of the past and didn't want to move on.
So, to hear the podcast episode based on the premise that Eminem might feel that what he knows as hip hop is being undermined and possibly moving on without him struck a chord.
Listening to such an artist wax lyrical (pardon the pun) about their field and the passion they have for it, as he does during interview segments in the episode, is always inspiring.
But, for all this passion and obvious success, Eminem always doubts himself or, at least, portrays that self doubt in his music.
And that, too, hits home.
I love to write, I love to post to the blog but frequently doubt myself, doubt what I'm doing or the approach I'm taking. I frequently doubt my ability to present my ideas and frame them correctly.
It happens in cycles; I'll get renewed focus and feel like I know the direction I should be heading but, over time, that focus can wane and the uncertainty creeps back in.
Part of me thinks that it's only blogging, it's primarily for myself, so what does it matter. But when the passion is there, that all consuming fire inside, and you know what you can be capable of everything else seems like a pale imitation.
While I have all but removed myself from social media (micro.blog apart although I don't see or use that as a true social network) there is still a performative element to it. I don’t know if anyone can really say otherwise when they write publicly on the web.
Perhaps this is why I’m now drawn to pen and paper.
Whether it's because I lament the lost skill and feel of handwriting, want to slow down and take time over what I write, or because I miss that personal touch I don't know.
I definitely suspect part of it is a desire to withdraw some of what I do from the public realm. While the passion drives me on I’m just not sure how deep I want to go.