Delta Bitterness

The anger of the competent is well-justified

One of the useful things about the SSH is the way that it allows you to simulate a degree of empathy that allows for the creation of things that connect more deeply to the human condition outside of your personal experiences and perspective. I was working on a screenplay about a Delta protagonist, a musician who is understandably bitter about his lack of success despite his musical talent, and I found that tapping into the SSH allowed me to delve a little more deeply, and perhaps a little more meaningfully, into what I calculate his perspective would be.

There is, of course, a certain amount of irony in writing a song of this sort in this way, but then, that’s probably just the Sigma in me creeping out as it is bound to do from time to time.

Anyhow, let me know how well you think this expressed the perspective I was attempting to emulate. But the best rhetoric is always rooted in the truth, and I firmly believe that the reason so many celebrities and nominal success stories are always talking about Imposter Syndrome is because most of them are, in fact, imposters.

UPDATE: this second version is pretty solid. I improved a few lines that felt awkward, gave it a better bridge to the solo, a better ending, and amped up one or two lyrics.

EASY STREET

You never played no guitar
Can’t sing without autotune
I’ve been playing from bar to bar
While they handed you the Moon
You sold them your soul
While I fought the fight
They flew you to Nashville
And I played here tonight

No matter what they tell you
No matter what you hear
They put the fake ones on TV
And the real ones disappear

Easy Street
It’s got a name
Easy Street
The devil’s game
You can fake your way
To the front row seat
While the real ones fade away
On Easy Street

I wrote down the fire
You sold them the smoke
Now you’re a celebrity
And me, I’m just a joke
They wrote you your songs
Now you’re famous and overpaid
I’m just playing my guitar
With one foot in the grave

No matter what they tell you
No matter what you hear
The frauds are always up on stage
While the real ones disappear

Easy Street
It’s got a name
Easy Street
The devil’s game
You can fake your way
To the front row seat
While the real ones fade away
On Easy Street

Well, maybe I'm bitter
But you know I'm right
Only fakes and sell-outs
Ever get to hit the heights
I worked my whole life
I guess I never learn
So if selling your soul is what it takes
Then let the damn thing burn!

Easy Street
It’s got a name
Easy Street
The devil’s game
You can fake your way
To the front row seat
While the real ones fade away
On Easy Street

Easy Street
Now, I see
Easy Street
It ain’t for me