I said something during a mentoring conversation this week that kept replaying in my head.
Ready is relative.
One of the biggest questions artists ask is, “When is my song ready?”
I don’t know if there’s one perfect answer.
Every song has a different journey. Every artist has a different vision. What feels finished to one person might still need another pass to someone else.
Sometimes a song really does need more work.
Other times, we keep holding onto it because we’re afraid to let it go.
There’s a difference.
One thing I’ve learned from mentoring artists is that feedback is most valuable before the song is released.
After it’s out, people can tell you what they would have changed.
Before it’s out, you still have the opportunity to do something about it.
That doesn’t mean every opinion should change your direction.
Not every suggestion is right.
Not everyone understands what you’re trying to create.
But when the feedback comes from people you trust—people who care about your growth—it deserves some consideration.
I’ve watched songs get better because someone suggested shortening a verse.
I’ve heard hooks become clearer because someone asked one simple question.
Sometimes a lyric says almost exactly what the artist means, but “almost” isn’t enough.
Sometimes the song needs to be shorter.
Sometimes it needs more clarity.
Sometimes you try the suggestion and realize it doesn’t work.
That’s okay too.
At least now you know.
You’ll never know what a change could do unless you’re willing to try it.
Here’s where it gets difficult.
By the time many artists ask for feedback, they’ve already invested a lot into the song.
They’ve written it.
Recorded it.
Paid for it.
Mixed it.
Started thinking about the artwork and the release date.
They’ve lived with the record for weeks, sometimes months.
At that point, they may not really be asking for feedback anymore.
They may be asking for confirmation.
They want someone to say, “Yes, it’s ready.”
So when somebody says, “I think the hook could be stronger,” it can feel personal.
It can sound like rejection.
But feedback and rejection are not the same thing.
Someone taking the time to tell you how your work could improve is not necessarily trying to discourage you.
They may be investing in you.
That made me think about my son.
Recently, my teenage son told me he doesn’t like asking people for things because he doesn’t want to feel like he’s bothering them.
That stayed with me.
I think a lot of artists carry that same fear.
They don’t ask for feedback because they don’t want to bother anyone.
They don’t want to feel rejected.
They don’t want someone to tell them the song isn’t ready.
Sometimes they’ve already invested so much time and energy that they just want the process to be over.
They want a result.
I understand that.
But asking for feedback before the release gives you the chance to make a decision while the decision can still matter.
You don’t have to accept every suggestion.
You don’t have to turn the song into something that no longer feels like you.
The goal is not to make the song sound like someone else.
The goal is to make sure the song communicates what you intended as clearly as possible.
What does giving your best look like?
For me, giving your best means being willing to look at the lyrics again.
It means asking whether the message is clear.
It means getting constructive feedback.
It means stepping away and listening again with fresh ears.
Giving your best does not mean the final result will be perfect.
And if the release isn’t your best song, that doesn’t mean you didn’t give it your best.
Those are two different things.
Eventually, every artist has to release the music.
You can’t hold onto a song forever waiting for the perfect moment.
Your story matters.
The song matters.
Sometimes releasing one song is what creates space for the next idea to arrive.
So release it for yourself first.
Release it because you needed to tell that story.
Release it because you gave the process what you had at that moment.
Then, after the song is out, don’t only ask:
“Was this song good?”
Ask:
“How can I make the next song better?”
That question changes the purpose of feedback.
It moves you away from validation and toward growth.
Not every song will be your best song.
But every song can teach you something.
Maybe that’s what being ready really means.
Not that the song is perfect.
But that you’ve done the work, listened honestly, stayed open to growth, and reached the point where it’s time to let the song go.
Because ready is relative.
