Here's the flipside. Some people are never satisfied with the work of others, and it's exactly this dissatisfaction that can drive them to hone their own endeavors. Obviously, Miles Davis doesn't hate music and it's not as simple as saying his expectations are too high. You can tell by the way he reviews these things that when he listens to these records, he hears them as a jumble of good bits, missed opportunities, and garbage.
He's not satisfied hearing missed opportunities, so he is "forced" to compose and perform on his own terms.
> Either you play a whole chord against it, or else . . . but don’t try to play it like you’d play, ah, Walkin’ the Dog. You know what I mean?
> They move up in triads, but there’s all those chords missing – and I never heard any Spanish thing where they had a figure that went
> and you’ve got to have the rhythm section along; you just can’t keep on playing all eighth notes.
Imagine that every time you listen to music, there's something else you want to hear. You have to get better at making music, or else you'll never get to hear that thing you want to hear.
Personal anecdote: I was reading the other day and started to get disappointed, angry even, at the kinds of stories I was reading. I kept feeling that the stories were laden with missed opportunities for exploration, drawn out tension that couldn't carry the weight it was given, and hackneyed philosophy.
I got a bit frightened that I might "have to" become an author. I'm not that good at writing, to be honest. But in order to read the story I want to read, I might have no other choice.
(And of course, I'm glad Miles Davis was a musician and not a critic.)
I seem to recall a Knuth anecdote describing how he'd sunk so deep into the study of fonts that he'd go to a restaurant and pick up the menu, and only much later remember about the food.
Well said. I think it's true of any field really- when you start to get good, its frustrating to see/hear the missed opportunities and shortcomings in other's work. I wonder if the primary driving force behind any creative endeavor is really just "I want this", and there is no other way to get it than to make it.
To bring it closer to a HN topic: if you look at any successful software product in depth, there are flaws and things you'd do more elegantly. We love to hate things like php and C++ even if they are objectively successful.
Very few authors start out that good at writing: they almost all have a million words of bullshit they have to weed through before they start to find enough good stuff.
He's not satisfied hearing missed opportunities, so he is "forced" to compose and perform on his own terms.
> Either you play a whole chord against it, or else . . . but don’t try to play it like you’d play, ah, Walkin’ the Dog. You know what I mean?
> They move up in triads, but there’s all those chords missing – and I never heard any Spanish thing where they had a figure that went
> and you’ve got to have the rhythm section along; you just can’t keep on playing all eighth notes.
Imagine that every time you listen to music, there's something else you want to hear. You have to get better at making music, or else you'll never get to hear that thing you want to hear.
Personal anecdote: I was reading the other day and started to get disappointed, angry even, at the kinds of stories I was reading. I kept feeling that the stories were laden with missed opportunities for exploration, drawn out tension that couldn't carry the weight it was given, and hackneyed philosophy.
I got a bit frightened that I might "have to" become an author. I'm not that good at writing, to be honest. But in order to read the story I want to read, I might have no other choice.
(And of course, I'm glad Miles Davis was a musician and not a critic.)