Making Music for an Empty Room

Most interviews begin with someone else deciding what to ask. This one begins differently. I came up with the questions myself, based on things I’ve thought about but don’t often get a reason to talk about.

1. You’ve been releasing music as Adelamonica since 2017. But when you think about what you do, do you actually think of yourself as a musician?

Honestly, in the past I haven’t, because I realized that people who play instruments and have traditional music making skills take great pride in being able to say they play instruments and can make their own releasable music. And some are quite emphatic about it, and a bit defensive, in a way that told me that, out there, you can’t just call yourself a musician because that’s a title that is very staunchly guarded.

It has always surprised, and disappointed, me to hear how some of the most famous musical artists in the world can disparage those who, in their opinion, can’t sing, or who might be popular artists themselves but can’t play an instrument or don’t even write their own songs. So I’ve learned to be careful about calling myself a musician from that perspective.

2. If “musician” doesn’t quite describe you, what does?

I would say a music artist, which is a wider umbrella that encompasses what I do. I think music as an art is vast and varied enough that anyone who creates with music can arguably use the music artist label. Not every artist is going to create works that the world will acclaim, but what makes you an artist isn’t that the world declares you one. It’s that you create art, regardless of what the world thinks of your creations.

3. You don’t come to music through the traditional route of being a trained instrumentalist or composer. So how does a song begin for you?

Sometimes I hear a piece of music and it inspires a feeling. I might start singing straight away, or maybe I’ll start dancing and then my body movements trigger accompanying thoughts and feelings that point me in a certain lyrical direction. And from there I get an idea for a song. There are times I woke up from sleep with a song in my head. Sometimes I have to force the issue because there is no inspiration, but I want to write a song. Sometimes I am going through a tough time in life and songs come out from that pain. There’s no one way a song begins for me.

4. Is there a difference between the music you imagine making and the music you’re actually able to make?

Instrumentally, I would say yes. Most of the instrumentals on my songs would not have been what I would have created if I’d been able to fully produce my own music. I’ve had to go with the direction created for me by producers, so I’ve released songs that were disappointing in that way. “Baby Thanks A Million,” “America” and “Sorry” are three good examples. What I had envisioned for each of those songs was completely different from what I ended up with.

5. What are you trying to do in a song that you couldn’t accomplish by simply saying something?

It’s like writing poetry. Creating the art is the intention. You’re weaving with words and, in the case of music, melodies. That’s really the objective. But it also gives you an opportunity to create something that serves a purpose beyond your own fulfillment. When I’m writing a song nowadays, I have to consider what it might contribute to the world. If I can inspire someone to dance, help someone toward a perspective that lightens a burden they’re carrying, put someone in a romantic mood, or draw something else positive from a listener, then I’ve done something worthwhile.

6. Your music can move between songs with vocals and pieces that are entirely instrumental. Do those two forms satisfy something different in you?

I would say yes. I can spend hours playing with music, composing instrumentals just for the fun and the exercise. It’s very therapeutic and, although I haven’t released any of my instrumental compositions to date, it gives me some sense of legitimacy to be able to compose things that sound like actual musical compositions.

It’s a little different creating a song with vocals because now my singing and songwriting enter the picture. Sometimes both can be a struggle and actually elevate my stress. But composing instrumental music is different. It’s like having clay in front of you that you can just start shaping, instead of being in a situation where you first have to figure out how to get the clay.

7. You started releasing music later in life than people usually associate with the beginning of a music career. Did you ever feel as though you had arrived too late?

Yes, of course. How could I not? I did arrive too late, but as the saying goes, better late than never. I grew up before the Internet and all the technological advances that have made it possible for someone like me—older and not impressively talented by traditional industry standards—to still go out there and make music because I want to.

When I was growing up, I dared not seriously consider a music career because I knew I didn’t have what it took by industry standards. Now people can have a music career outside the industry. Age will always be a factor in your chances of success, but you can release an album at the age of 100 if you’re so inclined.

8. Has getting older changed what you want to say—or what you’re willing to say?

Yes, without question. Your perspective changes. You go through new life experiences that take your focus away from the preoccupations that typically make songwriting easier. I find I want to write about loss and the preciousness of time and heavier weighted subjects that people don’t seem to want to hear songs about. So that makes songwriting more challenging.

9. You’ve released a considerable body of work, but you’ve also been very open about the fact that the audience for it is small. What is it like to keep creating when you don’t know how many people are really listening?

I don’t struggle with that necessarily. I keep creating because I need to do it for myself. I have never thought to myself, well nobody is listening so why bother creating? That is not to say I haven’t cared that no one listens to my music. But I’m not trying to sell something or pursue something where other people’s interest determines whether I keep going or give up. I create music to fulfill something in myself. And so any question of whether to stop or keep going would never come down to whether or not people are listening.