I came across Eva Cassidy recently; not quite sure how. My late mom was present, as a child, at the Hollywood premiere of the Wizard of Oz. So, Over the Rainbow is an iconic song for me. Cassidy's interpretation blew my mind. So perfectly authentic. I knew nothing about her story, until after I heard her music. Watching reaction videos (on Youtube) to her singing Rainbow became a mild obsession for a time. If Just seeing others, usually within the first 15 seconds, finding themselves transformed, is wonderful. I Googled your name and hers, and found that you were a champion of hers. That lends weight, for me, to your words. The closest reaction equivalent is have seen is Johnny Cash's Hurt.
I also have been drawn to Blue for a long time. I now understand, on a deeper level, why.
On Gould, the Goldberg is an interesting test. I find myself more drawn to the '81 version than the '55 version. The latter feels, to me, like more of a "Listen to what I can do" exercise. The former is more "Listen to Spirit".
Back when Tower Records existed, I used to go in and hit the listening stations on a regular basis. Three "authentic" musicians I discovered were Maria Bethania, Regina Spektor and Nichole Nordeman. Nordeman is a "Christian" musician; a genre, outside of gospel, that I never felt inclined to explore. But she speaks to me. (Believe it or not, Prince recorded one of her songs).
I very much your having helped me understand, on a deeper level, why great music touches me.
Great music touches something great in you. Shallow music touches something shallow in you.
I second your appreciation of Eva Cassidy, and actually came to this Substack because I heard Ted speaking of her with Rick Beato on YouTube. Rick of course is another "what you see is what you get" person. No BS.
The world wanted Eva to fit into a square hole, but she was round. Actually, she shape-shifted from genre to genre, always being herself! She sang with true emotion, deeply felt. That's where her power came from. I never heard a false note come out of her. Emotion, not emotionalism.
It is mind blowing to watch people listen to her for the first time. For that matter, watching gen Z or Alpha listen to any number of singers from (dare I say) the Boomer generation or before with their lack of irony, cynicism, and elaborate production, is also fun. They came along before "selling out" became the non-stop way of our world. And before the image came to rule.
If you liked Eva, you will probably also like Hania Rani, the Polish pianist Ted recommended a while ago. Not only is she unlike any other pianist I ever heard, she can take you to a higher plane faster than anybody:
Hemingway declared his aim to write one TRUE sentence at a time. If only our world was that way! But it's not. Lying and spinning and pretending pollute our environment; just what the slave-driving "engagement" engine rewards.
Feels good; ends badly.
"Know thyself" and "Say what you mean; Mean what you say" are still true. If you get the first one right, the second will follow.
I will also second your appreciation for Tower Records, where you could discover music; not be force-fed it.
Watch his Tiny Desk concert if you haven't already! Just the gentleness and sensitivity in his fingers as he caresses the keys tells you where he is coming from. He doesn't shout at you. He invites you to come along for the ride.
I also prefer Gould's '81 recording. The earlier recording is very "Look, ma, no hands!", while the Aria in the later one brings me to tears every time.
If you make this into a "book" , I definitely buy, read and store it in my physicsl "aurhentic" musical library together with all the other books you wrote on music. My questions to you: you are posdibly not only writing a book on authenticity in music, but a book on epistomology as such. I would love hearing your opinion on Walter Benjamin, the late Wittgenstein, Alan Turings "imitation game" and the practice of "double blinded tests" in modern medicine. On top, consider Thomas Nagels essay "What is it like, to be a bat?" My impression is that you are digging in music as a proxy for a much broader philosophical topic.
Might not bring in pay vouchers so much as receipts, however FA your assignments for Ted should help ford those rapids of self-doubt and aimless anxiety that beset the best of US and global citizens deemed not young and of sufficient prospect to invest in. May that not be Ted Gioia's fate, we sentient if befuddled and bedeviled 21st century rootless wanderers are learning as we shed our luxurious accepted Pynchonian tale-teller title as Slow Learner....
in this essay you have put your finger on a distinction that has eluded me for a long time. I feel like current discussions of authenticity are usually about whether or not the artist “seems authentic.” Is this artist convincingly simulating a conviction in their music? Does the artist’s persona convincingly portray someone who would make this kind of music, if they were doing it for sincere reasons? Is the style believable coming from someone who looks and behaves like this artist does offstage?
This is miles away from the simple authenticity you describe in your father. He had no interest in “seeming” authentic. His behavior and his beliefs had almost no distance between them.
I think that simpler kind of authenticity from an artist would look more like the artist doing exactly what is most interesting to them at any moment. David Bowie for example. Bon Iver. D’Angelo, Joni Mitchell. Fiona Apple.
Those artists are more likely to make music that makes us say, “Why the fuck are they doing this?” “What were they thinking?” So many great records from truly authentic artists baffled their audiences at first, caused their listeners to say “what the hell is this?“ Those artists don’t provide the reassuring match between sound and persona which I think is the current definition of authenticity – a fake authenticity.
Ted, I appreciate your devoting an entire essay to authenticity and reverence. That is very refreshing. Add some craft, knowledge, lots of time and stir… Thanks!
Qualities like "reverence" or "sacredness" have become almost extinct in our culture. Our culture has a hard enough time rising to simple "respect."
Truly, what is sacred now? Everything is for sale. It is all about the "ME." This is a culture that is bankrupt and at the end of its rope. It used up its inheritance and is running on fumes.
Yet, there still are people like those unknown heroes who ran towards the burning jet in Texas the other day to get the passengers out. A refreshing change from the usual fair of "performative cruelty" and personal "looksmaxxing" which rule in our degraded culture.
Imagine, risking one's own life for strangers, and not wanting anything in return. That only comes from believing there is something greater than our own temporary existence.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts on authenticity, as well as the ideas of Charles Taylor. I love the idea that the authenticity of an individual is made by, made within, and is inextricably linked to, the world inhabited by the individual. I like to think of authenticity as a framework of opinions, values, and perspectives that a person holds. I also think part of authenticity is the degree to which a person maintains their personal framework when confronted with the potential of an external social or monetary gain that would force them to compromise their framework for that of a conflicting one (as was the case in the Stan Getz example you provided).
Beyond what could be construed as a simple sense of stubbornness, where a person chooses to be a contrarian reflexively, authenticity has a lot to do with a person's inner moral landscape and sense of what matters and why.
An interesting related topic is the topic of cliches. Cliches appear everywhere in music and other art forms. And I think many people feel that cliches betray an artist's lack of authenticity. But cliches are so prevalent that using them is in one sense unavoidable. That is to say, one can avoid whatever cliches one wants, but that sends the artist directly into the path of innumerable other cliches.
So in the same way that authenticity is shaped by a person's chosen valuing of certain principles and devaluing of others, the use of cliches follows a similar pattern. An artist chooses which cliches they like and accept, and make a conscious effort to avoid other cliches which they don't like.
For example, I once saw an interview with Kim Deal, of The Pixies and The Breeders. She was talking about how when she was in The Pixies, they really wanted to avoid the cliche of ending songs with a retardondo followed by a fermata, which has long been a cliched way to end a song. What struck me about that, was thinking about my own ideas about musical cliches and how my feelings compared to what Kim said. When I was a young musician in the 90's, I felt that the one cliche I wanted to desperately avoid was the cliche of the straight 8th note bass line, which is a cliche The Pixies had wholeheartedly embraced. That was when I realized that cliches have to be chosen as accepted or rejected, but they can't all be avoided. And it strikes me now that that process of acceptance and rejection is probably similar to how a sense of authenticity is formed for an artist.
Who is a popular musical artist whose work is largely inauthentic? Isn't "authentic" vs. "inauthentic" the same, or same enough, as "good" vs. "bad"?
I read and understand your eloquent and well-crafted sentences, Mr. G - but when it comes down to the task of making the music I make, this fine essay is largely irrelevant.
To not believe in authenticity is to not believe in a higher power, the source of all genius. It is to deny that true creative genius stems from intuition, spirit, and the "unconscious," rather than rigid systems or scientific optimization. It is to deny the testimonies of artists like Paul McCartney, Billy Joel, Paul Simon, or Brian Wilson or the symphonies of Mozart, or Hildegard von Bingen She experienced vivid visions from a young age, which she attributed directly to divine revelation from God. Her extensive body of sacred monophonic chants and the morality play Ordo Virtutum were received through these visions—she described hearing celestial music and seeing "a living light."
To deny authenticity must come from the experience of never experiencing flow or seeking out beauty for it's own intrinsic sake. It's a materialistic philosophy. How could one who never experienced this connection ever write about it?
Wonderful essay, and so much to unpack. I will be rereading this many times. Thank you for a feast of food for thought!
One thing that struck me was that my parents also did not engage in irony or sarcasm. I’m not sure if it was due to culture (they were from Japan) or language (English was not their first language), but they spoke freely and directly. (My mom had even mentioned she liked English because it was a more direct language than Japanese.) This meant that my childhood home was pretty much snark-free, which I appreciated and miss even today.
They lived their lives the way they wanted — dare I say, “authentically” — in a small Texas town as the odd absent-minded professor and the artist / architect. I should point out they were in no way “cool” (and had no interest in being cool) and were a constant source of embarrassment to teenage-Me, but I now appreciate their paths to authenticity. More unpacking to be done!
Dear Ted. I want to sincerely thank you for your profound essay on authenticity in music. You address issues that resonate deeply with me and that I find myself reflecting on daily. Your commitment to holding onto a human-centered understanding of authenticity is both powerful and urgently needed in today’s world.
In a time when so much feels superficial or manufactured, your writing reminds us of the importance of genuine connection—not only in music but in life itself. I appreciate your thoughtful insights and the care you take to defend authenticity against cynicism and debunking.
Thank you for giving voice to these essential truths.
Thanks for rehabilitating the oft-maligned "authenticity" concept Ted. In the West we are hampered by music's ubiquity as a commercial product. I often wonder how my own development as a musician would have been altered if I'd been born into a society like India, for example, which maintains a clear delineation between sacred and secular music. When music enters the marketplace, and has to not only sell itself but also guard against thieves, it's a completely different dynamic.
As human beings I believe we are dual creatures. We may strive for authenticity but not always feel we're achieving it. Moreover, in a performance situation–no matter whether one is a musician, actor, or other type of artist–one must give their all while simultaneously maintaining awareness of the song structure, the lines, cues and entrances, and so forth. It can never be "all passion" without the detachment that allows one to perform to an audience effectively.
I do believe that audiences are increasingly turned off by the simulations of music by AI. And in a commercial world where artists compete for attention with every other possible event or product, we can only survive and thrive by bringing our authentic voice to the table.
Like you, I think about this topic a lot, and released my newest book (Music and the 7 Hermetic Principles) this year which attempts to guide both players and listeners to an experience of music which is more authentic–and yes, spiritual and metaphysical.
A friend of mine, who is a well-known Taoist master and author, advised me on how to get an agent for my next book. While he cautioned me against defining myself in monetary terms, he did say the following: "Gone are the days when publishers were interested in expression, literature, or even (sigh) quality. They just want something on the level of a book with an Instagram hook that will take it viral."
This is a very tough environment in which to maintain one's authenticity. But we try anyway.
A few anecdotes. Many, many years ago I was behind the stage at a university folk festival and was chatting with a well-known blues musician. He was friendly and gregarious and showed me pictures of his wife, to whom he'd been married for decades, his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, all dressed impeccably in a big family portrait. He was proud of being a deacon in his church and raising all his descendants as good Christians.
On stage, however, it was mean St Louis blues: songs about heartbreak, cheating, drinking (which he never did in his life, he told me), loss, sorrow, gambling, fighting, y'all know the rest. In other words, he was absolutely respected as a hugely important blues musician and none of his songs reflected his actual God-fearing, sober and love-filled life. Go figure.
Second anecdote: fast forward a few decades. We've arranged for the youth choir at our synagogue to sing the national anthem at a very popular local college basketball game. 7-9 kids, mostly girls between the ages of 8-14, came out in matching vests, with our cantor, a woman in her 60's, who had taught them. The kids did great, and the crowd leaped to its feel to ROAR their approval, making a noise so loud some of the little kids got scared with 6K people cheering on all sides of them.
Why did the crowd love it so much? Well, the kids did sing well and they were awfully cute, but it turns out at the previous game, a retirement-age rock star (whose name most of you would recognize) who lives in our region had performed the anthem with his guitar and did so in a highly stylized way, and the crowd hated it. So the kids, who sang with great sincerity and focus, were a welcome contrast to the rock star, who tried to do the national anthem in his personal style but people felt it was sloppy and not respectful.
You'd think these are two almost contradictory examples of authenticity, but they aren't. In both cases, the performers respected the moment, the genre, and the tradition, and that's what made it authentic and beautiful.
Please note, as well, you absolutely can sing the Star Spangled Banner in a stylized or personalized way and have it work. Chris Stapleton's pre-Super Bowl SSB is wonderful and meets all criteria for respecting the moment while expressing his creativity.
I love those anecdotes, I think you can sing about something unrelated to your lifestyle yet still be authentic. An authentic actor is convincing because they really go into their darkest parts. A God fearing blues man can have deep self knowledge and understands how close he could have come to the precipice.
“We become what we pretend to be” Kurt’s line always echoed in my mind as a producer. Who ”authentically” sings? Annie Lennox tried to sing like Aretha, Jagger tried to dance like Tina T, McCartney tried to channel Elvis, and Elvis loved Fats. Artists can tie themselves in knots wondering “who they are”. Tell the story, tell the truth, make loud mistakes, and communicate your passion, your joy. Can you authentically program drums? Can a DJ be authentic? Can you prompt authentically? Does the process help define it? Amazing deep Ted dive into this important word. Something perceived and felt. Beloved and believed in art that moves us.
Herder is the right reference here. His influence can also be seen as the most important challenge to the theory of language baked into AI, a major source of inauthenticity, but also meaningless AI slop. Check out my work on Charles Taylor and language for more.
I came across Eva Cassidy recently; not quite sure how. My late mom was present, as a child, at the Hollywood premiere of the Wizard of Oz. So, Over the Rainbow is an iconic song for me. Cassidy's interpretation blew my mind. So perfectly authentic. I knew nothing about her story, until after I heard her music. Watching reaction videos (on Youtube) to her singing Rainbow became a mild obsession for a time. If Just seeing others, usually within the first 15 seconds, finding themselves transformed, is wonderful. I Googled your name and hers, and found that you were a champion of hers. That lends weight, for me, to your words. The closest reaction equivalent is have seen is Johnny Cash's Hurt.
I also have been drawn to Blue for a long time. I now understand, on a deeper level, why.
On Gould, the Goldberg is an interesting test. I find myself more drawn to the '81 version than the '55 version. The latter feels, to me, like more of a "Listen to what I can do" exercise. The former is more "Listen to Spirit".
Back when Tower Records existed, I used to go in and hit the listening stations on a regular basis. Three "authentic" musicians I discovered were Maria Bethania, Regina Spektor and Nichole Nordeman. Nordeman is a "Christian" musician; a genre, outside of gospel, that I never felt inclined to explore. But she speaks to me. (Believe it or not, Prince recorded one of her songs).
I very much your having helped me understand, on a deeper level, why great music touches me.
Great music touches something great in you. Shallow music touches something shallow in you.
I second your appreciation of Eva Cassidy, and actually came to this Substack because I heard Ted speaking of her with Rick Beato on YouTube. Rick of course is another "what you see is what you get" person. No BS.
The world wanted Eva to fit into a square hole, but she was round. Actually, she shape-shifted from genre to genre, always being herself! She sang with true emotion, deeply felt. That's where her power came from. I never heard a false note come out of her. Emotion, not emotionalism.
My faves:
Her masterpiece; as true as a tuning fork:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j5tnIiBY6Ro
A strong second:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lbQst5HZj6E
It is mind blowing to watch people listen to her for the first time. For that matter, watching gen Z or Alpha listen to any number of singers from (dare I say) the Boomer generation or before with their lack of irony, cynicism, and elaborate production, is also fun. They came along before "selling out" became the non-stop way of our world. And before the image came to rule.
If you liked Eva, you will probably also like Hania Rani, the Polish pianist Ted recommended a while ago. Not only is she unlike any other pianist I ever heard, she can take you to a higher plane faster than anybody:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0NTVXaxHBQQ&t=277s
I want to know: what dimension is this music coming from, and who or what is she channeling? It seems to be bigger than any single human could be.
This is amazing, too:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFRdoYfZYUY&t=381s
Hemingway declared his aim to write one TRUE sentence at a time. If only our world was that way! But it's not. Lying and spinning and pretending pollute our environment; just what the slave-driving "engagement" engine rewards.
Feels good; ends badly.
"Know thyself" and "Say what you mean; Mean what you say" are still true. If you get the first one right, the second will follow.
I will also second your appreciation for Tower Records, where you could discover music; not be force-fed it.
I do love Hania Rani. I love even more, someone also shared by Ted, Nils frahm. This might be my favorite, brings me tears often:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T73SPABlyHI
I have wondered why Ted has never mentioned this guy, Ludivico Einaudi:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QHcRqoeSxPs
Watch his Tiny Desk concert if you haven't already! Just the gentleness and sensitivity in his fingers as he caresses the keys tells you where he is coming from. He doesn't shout at you. He invites you to come along for the ride.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2oyZ9OM-neM&t=421s
He will never be the soundtrack for a cage fight.
Thank you for sharing this. I have been listening to him for 7 years or more. I have never seen him perform before. It brought me much joy!
The obvious bliss they experience while playing/performing the music is incredible to witness.
I am bewitched, entranced when I listen to his music.
The sensitivity of his ears coordinated so delicately with his hands is hypnotic. Ah, a girl should be so lucky 😊
Youtube followed the tiny desk concert with this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NXD-WJYtkyc
So wonderful! 9.5 M views
Since Ted must know of Ludivico, and I hate to put words in his mouth, I can only assume that he doesn't care for the music.
I also prefer Gould's '81 recording. The earlier recording is very "Look, ma, no hands!", while the Aria in the later one brings me to tears every time.
If you make this into a "book" , I definitely buy, read and store it in my physicsl "aurhentic" musical library together with all the other books you wrote on music. My questions to you: you are posdibly not only writing a book on authenticity in music, but a book on epistomology as such. I would love hearing your opinion on Walter Benjamin, the late Wittgenstein, Alan Turings "imitation game" and the practice of "double blinded tests" in modern medicine. On top, consider Thomas Nagels essay "What is it like, to be a bat?" My impression is that you are digging in music as a proxy for a much broader philosophical topic.
"What is it like, to be a bat?". A: It's swinging.
Might not bring in pay vouchers so much as receipts, however FA your assignments for Ted should help ford those rapids of self-doubt and aimless anxiety that beset the best of US and global citizens deemed not young and of sufficient prospect to invest in. May that not be Ted Gioia's fate, we sentient if befuddled and bedeviled 21st century rootless wanderers are learning as we shed our luxurious accepted Pynchonian tale-teller title as Slow Learner....
Warmly and authentically yours,
Tio Mitchito
TM
Mitch Ritter
Paradigm Sifters, Code Shifters, PsalmSong Chasers
Lay-Low Studios, Ore-Wa (Refuge of A-tone-ment Seekers)
Media Discussion List\Looksee
Awesome!!
in this essay you have put your finger on a distinction that has eluded me for a long time. I feel like current discussions of authenticity are usually about whether or not the artist “seems authentic.” Is this artist convincingly simulating a conviction in their music? Does the artist’s persona convincingly portray someone who would make this kind of music, if they were doing it for sincere reasons? Is the style believable coming from someone who looks and behaves like this artist does offstage?
This is miles away from the simple authenticity you describe in your father. He had no interest in “seeming” authentic. His behavior and his beliefs had almost no distance between them.
I think that simpler kind of authenticity from an artist would look more like the artist doing exactly what is most interesting to them at any moment. David Bowie for example. Bon Iver. D’Angelo, Joni Mitchell. Fiona Apple.
Those artists are more likely to make music that makes us say, “Why the fuck are they doing this?” “What were they thinking?” So many great records from truly authentic artists baffled their audiences at first, caused their listeners to say “what the hell is this?“ Those artists don’t provide the reassuring match between sound and persona which I think is the current definition of authenticity – a fake authenticity.
Authenticity has become so rare that we're starting to experience it as a genre.
Great read, Ted! This song is what your sentiments would sound like set to music...
"Song For The Big Music Streaming Services"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XrNNxwZxqSM
Ted, I appreciate your devoting an entire essay to authenticity and reverence. That is very refreshing. Add some craft, knowledge, lots of time and stir… Thanks!
Qualities like "reverence" or "sacredness" have become almost extinct in our culture. Our culture has a hard enough time rising to simple "respect."
Truly, what is sacred now? Everything is for sale. It is all about the "ME." This is a culture that is bankrupt and at the end of its rope. It used up its inheritance and is running on fumes.
Yet, there still are people like those unknown heroes who ran towards the burning jet in Texas the other day to get the passengers out. A refreshing change from the usual fair of "performative cruelty" and personal "looksmaxxing" which rule in our degraded culture.
Imagine, risking one's own life for strangers, and not wanting anything in return. That only comes from believing there is something greater than our own temporary existence.
We still have it in us!
Thanks for sharing your thoughts on authenticity, as well as the ideas of Charles Taylor. I love the idea that the authenticity of an individual is made by, made within, and is inextricably linked to, the world inhabited by the individual. I like to think of authenticity as a framework of opinions, values, and perspectives that a person holds. I also think part of authenticity is the degree to which a person maintains their personal framework when confronted with the potential of an external social or monetary gain that would force them to compromise their framework for that of a conflicting one (as was the case in the Stan Getz example you provided).
Beyond what could be construed as a simple sense of stubbornness, where a person chooses to be a contrarian reflexively, authenticity has a lot to do with a person's inner moral landscape and sense of what matters and why.
An interesting related topic is the topic of cliches. Cliches appear everywhere in music and other art forms. And I think many people feel that cliches betray an artist's lack of authenticity. But cliches are so prevalent that using them is in one sense unavoidable. That is to say, one can avoid whatever cliches one wants, but that sends the artist directly into the path of innumerable other cliches.
So in the same way that authenticity is shaped by a person's chosen valuing of certain principles and devaluing of others, the use of cliches follows a similar pattern. An artist chooses which cliches they like and accept, and make a conscious effort to avoid other cliches which they don't like.
For example, I once saw an interview with Kim Deal, of The Pixies and The Breeders. She was talking about how when she was in The Pixies, they really wanted to avoid the cliche of ending songs with a retardondo followed by a fermata, which has long been a cliched way to end a song. What struck me about that, was thinking about my own ideas about musical cliches and how my feelings compared to what Kim said. When I was a young musician in the 90's, I felt that the one cliche I wanted to desperately avoid was the cliche of the straight 8th note bass line, which is a cliche The Pixies had wholeheartedly embraced. That was when I realized that cliches have to be chosen as accepted or rejected, but they can't all be avoided. And it strikes me now that that process of acceptance and rejection is probably similar to how a sense of authenticity is formed for an artist.
I once commented to Charli Persip about a song I thought was corny. "Corn works," he replied.
And just like with any cliche, corn is in the eye of the beholder. What is trite to one person, is new and fresh to another.
Who is a popular musical artist whose work is largely inauthentic? Isn't "authentic" vs. "inauthentic" the same, or same enough, as "good" vs. "bad"?
I read and understand your eloquent and well-crafted sentences, Mr. G - but when it comes down to the task of making the music I make, this fine essay is largely irrelevant.
To not believe in authenticity is to not believe in a higher power, the source of all genius. It is to deny that true creative genius stems from intuition, spirit, and the "unconscious," rather than rigid systems or scientific optimization. It is to deny the testimonies of artists like Paul McCartney, Billy Joel, Paul Simon, or Brian Wilson or the symphonies of Mozart, or Hildegard von Bingen She experienced vivid visions from a young age, which she attributed directly to divine revelation from God. Her extensive body of sacred monophonic chants and the morality play Ordo Virtutum were received through these visions—she described hearing celestial music and seeing "a living light."
To deny authenticity must come from the experience of never experiencing flow or seeking out beauty for it's own intrinsic sake. It's a materialistic philosophy. How could one who never experienced this connection ever write about it?
Wonderful essay, and so much to unpack. I will be rereading this many times. Thank you for a feast of food for thought!
One thing that struck me was that my parents also did not engage in irony or sarcasm. I’m not sure if it was due to culture (they were from Japan) or language (English was not their first language), but they spoke freely and directly. (My mom had even mentioned she liked English because it was a more direct language than Japanese.) This meant that my childhood home was pretty much snark-free, which I appreciated and miss even today.
They lived their lives the way they wanted — dare I say, “authentically” — in a small Texas town as the odd absent-minded professor and the artist / architect. I should point out they were in no way “cool” (and had no interest in being cool) and were a constant source of embarrassment to teenage-Me, but I now appreciate their paths to authenticity. More unpacking to be done!
Dear Ted. I want to sincerely thank you for your profound essay on authenticity in music. You address issues that resonate deeply with me and that I find myself reflecting on daily. Your commitment to holding onto a human-centered understanding of authenticity is both powerful and urgently needed in today’s world.
In a time when so much feels superficial or manufactured, your writing reminds us of the importance of genuine connection—not only in music but in life itself. I appreciate your thoughtful insights and the care you take to defend authenticity against cynicism and debunking.
Thank you for giving voice to these essential truths.
Rainer Walker
Thanks for rehabilitating the oft-maligned "authenticity" concept Ted. In the West we are hampered by music's ubiquity as a commercial product. I often wonder how my own development as a musician would have been altered if I'd been born into a society like India, for example, which maintains a clear delineation between sacred and secular music. When music enters the marketplace, and has to not only sell itself but also guard against thieves, it's a completely different dynamic.
As human beings I believe we are dual creatures. We may strive for authenticity but not always feel we're achieving it. Moreover, in a performance situation–no matter whether one is a musician, actor, or other type of artist–one must give their all while simultaneously maintaining awareness of the song structure, the lines, cues and entrances, and so forth. It can never be "all passion" without the detachment that allows one to perform to an audience effectively.
I do believe that audiences are increasingly turned off by the simulations of music by AI. And in a commercial world where artists compete for attention with every other possible event or product, we can only survive and thrive by bringing our authentic voice to the table.
Like you, I think about this topic a lot, and released my newest book (Music and the 7 Hermetic Principles) this year which attempts to guide both players and listeners to an experience of music which is more authentic–and yes, spiritual and metaphysical.
A friend of mine, who is a well-known Taoist master and author, advised me on how to get an agent for my next book. While he cautioned me against defining myself in monetary terms, he did say the following: "Gone are the days when publishers were interested in expression, literature, or even (sigh) quality. They just want something on the level of a book with an Instagram hook that will take it viral."
This is a very tough environment in which to maintain one's authenticity. But we try anyway.
A few anecdotes. Many, many years ago I was behind the stage at a university folk festival and was chatting with a well-known blues musician. He was friendly and gregarious and showed me pictures of his wife, to whom he'd been married for decades, his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, all dressed impeccably in a big family portrait. He was proud of being a deacon in his church and raising all his descendants as good Christians.
On stage, however, it was mean St Louis blues: songs about heartbreak, cheating, drinking (which he never did in his life, he told me), loss, sorrow, gambling, fighting, y'all know the rest. In other words, he was absolutely respected as a hugely important blues musician and none of his songs reflected his actual God-fearing, sober and love-filled life. Go figure.
Second anecdote: fast forward a few decades. We've arranged for the youth choir at our synagogue to sing the national anthem at a very popular local college basketball game. 7-9 kids, mostly girls between the ages of 8-14, came out in matching vests, with our cantor, a woman in her 60's, who had taught them. The kids did great, and the crowd leaped to its feel to ROAR their approval, making a noise so loud some of the little kids got scared with 6K people cheering on all sides of them.
Why did the crowd love it so much? Well, the kids did sing well and they were awfully cute, but it turns out at the previous game, a retirement-age rock star (whose name most of you would recognize) who lives in our region had performed the anthem with his guitar and did so in a highly stylized way, and the crowd hated it. So the kids, who sang with great sincerity and focus, were a welcome contrast to the rock star, who tried to do the national anthem in his personal style but people felt it was sloppy and not respectful.
You'd think these are two almost contradictory examples of authenticity, but they aren't. In both cases, the performers respected the moment, the genre, and the tradition, and that's what made it authentic and beautiful.
Please note, as well, you absolutely can sing the Star Spangled Banner in a stylized or personalized way and have it work. Chris Stapleton's pre-Super Bowl SSB is wonderful and meets all criteria for respecting the moment while expressing his creativity.
I love those anecdotes, I think you can sing about something unrelated to your lifestyle yet still be authentic. An authentic actor is convincing because they really go into their darkest parts. A God fearing blues man can have deep self knowledge and understands how close he could have come to the precipice.
Marvin Gaye at the 84 NBA all star game with the great national anthem too
Ted, this essay resonated deeply with me.
For years, I lived and worked across different countries, cultures, and institutions.
The challenge was never simply finding my voice.
It was learning how to remain true to that voice while engaging seriously with worlds larger than myself.
That is why I found Ted’s distinction so powerful:
Authenticity is not isolation.
It is a dialogue between the inner life and the world.
In the age of AI, that may become one of the most valuable human capacities.
“We become what we pretend to be” Kurt’s line always echoed in my mind as a producer. Who ”authentically” sings? Annie Lennox tried to sing like Aretha, Jagger tried to dance like Tina T, McCartney tried to channel Elvis, and Elvis loved Fats. Artists can tie themselves in knots wondering “who they are”. Tell the story, tell the truth, make loud mistakes, and communicate your passion, your joy. Can you authentically program drums? Can a DJ be authentic? Can you prompt authentically? Does the process help define it? Amazing deep Ted dive into this important word. Something perceived and felt. Beloved and believed in art that moves us.
Herder is the right reference here. His influence can also be seen as the most important challenge to the theory of language baked into AI, a major source of inauthenticity, but also meaningless AI slop. Check out my work on Charles Taylor and language for more.
Any relation to Carolyn Forché and is she still in the Lit game? Poetics need to know...
Haven't seen her name emerge in many moons via the Poetry Reading announcements either out here on NW coastal range or inland and to the east....
Ah, I see, she got into the college degree racket. All best to you and yours
whether you're kin of the street\Cafe-worthy poet or not...
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carolyn_Forch%C3%A9
Tio Mitchito
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Mitch Ritter
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That was like reading Underworld! That was a tremendous read. Thanks for sharing. Its amazing how articulate and polyfacetic you are