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Writer's pictureNat Parry

Plan to Become the Superstar I Hope to Be

So, I recently auditioned for a talent company that I will not name, just because it gives me a level of privacy that I feel that I should still allow myself. Well, the answer was a no. And I get “no” all the time in talent agencies for whatever reason. Sometimes I don’t look the part, sometimes I refuse to act it, and sometimes the timing just doesn't work out well enough for it to be the center of my life.


Sometimes you prepare and prepare, and sometimes it just doesn’t work because life told it not to. Sometimes you get bronchitis the week before you have a major audition due. Sometimes you don’t get better and heal until the day before it’s due. Sometimes you wait for two days and try to tell yourself you still have a chance when you know that it probably isn’t as real as you were hoping.


I can rap, sing, and dance (only when choreographed, however). I know I can, and in the audition video, I was graded on something I didn’t expect to be criteria. Not my voice. Not my face. Not my body. But my dream. In 30 seconds, I had to tell this company why I wanted to do all of this. Why I wanted to spend 15 hours in dance studios. Why I wanted to learn songs and write music. Why I wanted to risk a normal life for one that can be so much harder.


Why I was auditioning. In 30 seconds. Clock starts now. I had so much I wanted to say. So many minor details about my life and my heart that took up more beats than can fit into half a minute. I wanted to say that music ran through my brainstem and was the first thing that taught my legs to walk. I said I could rap 22.3 words in around 3 seconds. I wanted to say that I’ve been singing at times I wanted to be crying, I wanted to say that notes were more tactful than words most times I opened my mouth. I said I am fluent in English and French. I wanted to say that I will work harder and be kinder than anyone else they could hire, I said I could work harder and be kinder.


I will never know why it didn’t work out. I won’t know if it was because I wasn’t pretty enough, or if I was too big. I won’t know if it’s because I rapped when I should have sang or because I wasn’t trained in dance enough. I will never know, and I think that is what will bother me. I don’t know if I was kicked first or last, and I don’t know which hurts more. To be the first thrown out or to be one behind the least worst. I won’t know, and asking won’t give me an answer, usually it just makes me think even more about what could have been wrong.

So, since my minor crisis about my talents, abilities, and genetics, I’ve been asking myself. How am I going to get there? What is there? Is there a yacht? Is it an Instagram verification? Is it album sales? Is it happiness? How much of my happiness is dependent upon my art, and how much of my art is dependent on how happy I am?


I know that my happiness as an artist will depend on how much time I can dedicate to it. And I can’t dedicate time if it’s not making me money. I do have to live after all. Eating is a nice goal for a soon to be 20-something like me. I can’t make music and make money unless I am making a name for myself. I know that being successful to me requires me to be able to focus most of my time and energy to making art.


I found another audition (I like to plan ahead). The Voice. Now, generally, if you asked me years ago, I would tell you that I would NEVER be apart of a show like that. I don’t want to be overproduced and undervalued, and I want to have a fanbase AFTER the show, too, which generally winners don’t get. American Idol Season 1 winner- Kelly Clarkson. People know that because she was the first of the first. Anyone else? Crickets. The people who get famous post show (my king, Adam Lambert) are always the ones who were short changed. Currently, I’m preparing to audition for The Voice.


I mean, what do I have to lose? It’s an online audition from home. Come on. I can’t have this go wrong for me. I’m not travelling, spending money, I’m not doing any of that. I’m just trying. And in the meantime, I’ll be uploading to YouTube. I’ve been working on trying to make music with the new DAW I have, even though I have to figure out how to use it in the first place. But I’m going to get there. I have to. This is what I know I want to be, and I can’t think of anything else that would make me that happy in my life.


I think what scares me is the fact that America loves youth. In a kinda creepy way, not gonna lie. It feels as if people, especially artists are worth more if they are under 18. It’s so much more impressive to reach adult mediocrity at a younger age. It scares me that so many celebrities have such Wonderbread level personalities. The embodiment of the idea or the scent of table salt. The concept sketch of a blank canvas. The thought of what someone could be if they were allowed a personality of their own. I don’t like it, nor should it be praised. Someone without the ability to express what they feel and think is now the front and center of an industry built by feeling and thinking. Hooray for that.


I do feel a tad cynical. I did everything that most people thought I should do to be successful in the industry. I took music classes for almost half my life. I taught myself to sing, dance, and act, just so then there couldn’t be someone better. I learned instruments and told myself that I would be one of the lucky ones to really, truly make it. I did everything I thought I should, and for a while, I did notice myself being rather cynical at the fact that I wasn’t there yet.


However, I read something really important, and I don’t want to say anything after. I want the words to hang, encased in amber, and I want the color to soak into the rest of what I do.


“Just because someone is the first one there doesn’t mean they’ll be the first one to make an impact.”


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