What is my Experience as a Musician

Taught Me About Depth in a Digital World

In a world where everything is filtered, captioned, and condensed, it’s hard not to feel irrelevant when you’ve spent your life doing something slowly and thoroughly.

I’ve been a classical musician all my life. Music was my education, my profession, my identity. I practiced for hours every day, not because someone told me to, but because I understood that mastery only comes through time, time spent failing, repeating, listening, and quietly becoming fluent in a language most people only hear, never speak.

But lately, I’ve found myself adrift in the world of social media, where music is sliced into bite-sized trends and teaching is reduced to acronyms, mnemonics, and “hacks.” Where playing “Für Elise” badly in under 30 seconds gets more attention than playing a single phrase well with emotional weight and intention.

I see “methods” everywhere, Faber, Suzuki, Bastien, acronyms like ROTI, and I think: when did we decide that learning music needed branding?

To me, it was always simple:

• Practice.
• Understand music theory.
• Listen.

No gimmicks. Just honesty and hard work.

The Lie We’re Being Sold

Speed is not quality.
Volume is not value.
Clarity is not popularity.

But the platforms we use reward precisely the opposite. The loudest, fastest, most clickable content wins. And yet, the people behind these quick fixes often haven’t done the slow work themselves. They just know how to package it.

This is the root of the problem: social media loves systems more than truths. A chart, an acronym, or a flashy “5-minute practice hack” looks better on a screen than a slow, imperfect, honest attempt at real learning. So the deeper forms of knowledge built on years, not clicks, fade into the background.

And those of us who’ve walked the longer road begin to wonder if our footsteps even matter anymore.

The Truth: You Are the Method

If you’re someone who has practiced for years, decades even, and you feel left behind in this digital rush, let me tell you: you are not the past. You are what the future needs to remember.

You don’t have to perform for the algorithm. You don’t need to compete with influencers who’ve never played a full sonata in their life. What you have is more valuable than ever: a relationship with music that isn’t transactional, but devotional.

You can share that. Not with gimmicks. With presence.

• Post a video of a single phrase played with beauty.
• Write about what you discovered in your 20th year of practicing scales.
• Talk about the music you love without trying to make it “relevant.”
• Be slow. Be deep. Be still.

That kind of authenticity cuts through the noise. Not quickly. But eventually, and powerfully.

Let’s Not Lose What Matters

If you’re a young musician, dazzled by fast success, remember this:
Repetition is not punishment. It’s how art breathes.
Theory is not boring. It’s the architecture behind every emotion.
Hours spent practicing are not wasted. They are the bones of your musical self.

And if you’re an older one…like me…and you’re wondering how you fit into this brave new world of reels and rapid-fire tutorials:

Don’t chase the trend.
Be the lighthouse.
The ships that matter will find you.