Have you ever felt like nobody?
Just a tiny speck of air
When everyone’s around you
And you are just not there. 1
I deleted all social media at 11:59 PM on December 31, 2019. Waking up in the new year emancipated from the distractions and complex relationship with social media and in the years since, has been liberating and has greatly improved my mental health. I was hesitant, at first, to join Substack as I feared it might become the exact same thing I had moved away from years ago. Why would I want to return to that?
What I appreciate about Substack is its focus on sharing stories and there is valuable content to engage with by excellent writers. This sets it apart from all other social media platforms and makes it enjoyable. Nevertheless, I am aware of the potential pitfalls of Substack, such as getting caught up in seeking validation through "likes" or feeling discouraged by the absence of likes and comments. I am mindful of my time spent in Substack Notes and try not to dwell on whether people are reading and engaging with my content or simply liking it while scrolling.
Recently, I've been seeing a lot of discussions about the difference between followers and subscribers. I've noticed many people are becoming annoyed about gaining more followers but fewer subscribers. I’m unsure how I feel about this as I don’t completely understand why it’s a problem. Does subscribing, whether paid or free, automatically imply that readers actively engage with my posts from beginning to end? And does following mean they are not?
Is this frustration arising from the desire to seek validation and is it perceived as a slight if somebody chooses to follow rather than subscribe? Does it stem from the fact that followers aren't publicly visible in the total subscriber count posted on one’s profile? Do more subscribers legitimize our writing? Is this now becoming the very same game that social media plays?
Regardless, I have no control over how many subscribers or followers I have, nor can I dictate what they choose to read or how much they read.
I currently have 73 subscribers (one being paid) and 22 followers at the time of writing. I am humbled and incredibly grateful for all of you and I honestly thank you for being here. 🙏
I have chosen to create this space because I believe I have much to say about music and art and want to share it with others. When I post a piece, it’s similar to finishing a painting and displaying it. I feel vulnerable like I am standing naked in front of everyone, yet it also feels liberating as I have spent so long working on it. When I press the final Post button, I release and allow it to live a new life. For those who choose to read and engage, it organically takes on a new significance to my readers.
When I first started on Substack, I would post my pieces whenever they were finished. I have since adopted a routine and chosen a specific day to post (Monday). When choosing which day I initially worried that people may be too busy to read it on Monday because of their work schedule. Would posting on the weekend be a better time? I reassured myself that as long as I created captivating and compelling content, readers would be interested regardless of the subject or the day of publication.
I will still never know how much people read. I worry that my essay may be too long or that the album, musician, and artist, are too obscure. Why is one post eliciting more engagement than others? Is it my choice of photo, art, or title? Is it the theme? Is it too personal? Or, is it that they subscribe to so many newsletters they can’t possibly read everything and I am just another one clogging their email and stacking up in their phone app?
It can be daunting, intimidating, and extremely vulnerable to establish one’s unique voice on Substack. Sometimes I feel insignificant - a nobody. Why should anybody take the time to read? After all, I'm just one more writer vying for recognition and your time in a society that constantly craves attention. How does one filter through the noise to discover what truly matters and will my posts be one of them?
I have no answers. All I can do is control what I can control and keep writing. If I believe in it and feel good about my piece, that is most important. The rest will fall into place. If somebody chooses to follow instead of subscribing, I appreciate that they made that choice. I hope everybody here finds something within my words that’s worth engaging in.
Dirge For Nobody
Finally, as this Substack site is about music and art I will leave you, my readers, with a song.
English musician Will Carruthers is best known and remembered for playing bass in psychedelic bands, Spacemen 3 and Spiritualized. However, he has recorded multiple albums and toured with several bands. Carruthers is also an author, poet, and visual artist.
Spacemen 3 was a band that few may have heard of, but they are responsible for inspiring countless musicians and bands. One of Carruthers’ later solo recording projects, the Freelovebabies, released two fantastic albums in the early 2000s. His second album, Home Improvement For Condemned Buildings was recorded in 2005 in a windowless, abandoned building in Leicester, England where Carruthers worked and slept. He only had three months to record the album before the bulldozers tore it down to build a parking garage. The urgency to meet his deadline was never more apparent, but his long days and nights yielded marvelous results.
The album’s gorgeous final track, ‘Dirge for Nobody’ not only sings to those of us who have felt like a “Tiny speck of air when everybody is around and we are not there,” it's a homage to those forgotten buildings that nobody cares about anymore. It speaks to their past, and the ghosts of history. It sings of the desire to be a child again, with no worries as we “skip from play to play like there is no tomorrow.”
It is a dreamy, hazy gem that hypnotically resonates throughout my body, vibrates my soul, and sublimely bathes my heart & brain in euphoric bliss. I feel like I’m sleeping in a field of red & purple poppies and dreaming of floating high above a deep cerulean blue ocean of peaceful tranquility. The reverberating musical textures, fluttering lyrics, and Fiona McCreath’s voice are as perfect as music gets.
The song connects with me and in many ways it captures the essence of why people make music, create art, and choose to write. It’s a lonely craft, but we are compelled to do it. The truth is most writers on Substack don’t have many paid subscribers, but that doesn’t mean we are “nobody.” We all aspire for our content to resonate with our readers, be they subscribers or followers, paid or free.
Everybody Is Somebody.
If you made it this far, thank you for reading, subscribing, or following and I hope you enjoyed the song. 💐💜
Karen Crawford (age 9), from Peter Lewis’ 1966 collection, “Miracles - Poems by Children of the English Speaking World.”
Thanks for putting this out there Michael. I’ve really been enjoying your posts since we first connected, and I really needed to read these words today. I had also been off of social media for a long time before joining Substack, and I was nervous when I could feel some of the “likes and comments” feelings starting to creep back in. But I ultimately joined so I could hold myself accountable to write and make it a part of my routine. It has done that thus far, and I have to be vigilant everyday to remind myself that the subscriber count, should be inconsequential. As long as we keep creating as much as we are able, we are succeeding.
I felt every word of this. I think those are things a lot of us wrestle with-- I know I do, anyway. As for followers, you might've been asking rhetorically, but my concern is that if/should Substack fall apart, that's a part of my audience that I can't take with me. I'm also concerned that it will lead to more shallow enegagement & a sort of quantity > quality ethos. Avoiding shallow enegagement was one of the main reasons I landed here. Don't get me wrong; I love this place; I just don't want to see it devolving into a sort of Medium/Twitter hybrid.