1.1.3.f Luck and Failure
Luck and Failure
My career has evolved through a mix of luck and failure. I failed to help DL feel comfortable singing “Hopelessly Devoted,” but I was lucky to have Felix (my barking dog) join a lesson. I failed to teach RJ how to access his falsetto, yet he was lucky enough to stumble upon a BeeGees record over the summer. I was lucky a student urged me to contact a successful Broadway singer, and even luckier that she agreed to work with my student in Vermont. I do deserve some credit for recognizing and shaping those opportunities, but let’s be honest—there was no grand master plan.
I told my wife Angela about ending the course with a lesson on luck and failure during a walk in the woods. I’m not sure how long I rambled; I started talking on the way up the mountain and only paused on the way down. Angela, a psychologist and patient listener, waited until I took a breath. “I don’t want to piss you off,” she said, “but you might lose people with the philosophical stuff. Don’t they want something they can use?” It was a fair question.
“These details are exactly what they can use,” I replied. “The trouble is that our entire field has led singers to focus on the wrong things.” Okay, that’s not a verbatim quote—I think you can handle the real version: “Honey, I’m trying to give them a good pair of muck boots so they can wade through the bullshit!”
Cyclical Certainty Versus the Nature of Voice
Consider my go-to mantra: “Singing is a core human function.” How does that truth affect the way voice is taught and learned?
Everyone can sing, yet singing teachers make a living teaching people how to sing.
Singing is transient—an internal sensation that varies from person to person. While teachers’ insights can be broad and valuable, they come from instinctual interpretations, not concrete facts.
Singing is interwoven with human life, from lullabies that calm babies to songs that comfort mourners. Musical arts are a cultural creation that happen to harness our ability to sing, much like marathons leverage our ability to run. The art form and the human function, however, remain distinct.
Because singing teachers are focused on the musical arts, their methods reflect personal preferences and the rules, standards, and ideas they follow. Problems arise when their opinions about music are mistaken for universal truths about singing as a human act.
These methods have undeniably advanced vocal training. Still, it’s key to remember that business interests, reputation, and ego inevitably shape any successful teaching approach. Being aware of this lets you benefit from its strengths without joining its “cult.”
You arrived on this planet with a voice that could do almost anything—an astonishing capacity for sound and expression. Over time, that potential has been chipped away by factors beyond your control. Some of those limits are unavoidable; we can’t recreate the neurological flexibility of an infant’s brain. Others can be broken down. Many pedagogies suggest technical workarounds for these blocks, but few confront them directly. Sometimes teachers don’t even realize these blocks exist. Either way, those methods only go so far.
Your voice is built to play, experiment, and explore every corner of its range. If you’re too self-conscious for that, it’s a roadblock. If you believe you can’t sing high notes, another roadblock. If you think belting will ruin your voice, roadblock. If you dismiss certain sounds as “not you,” roadblock. In truth, the biggest difference between people who lovesinging and those who find it frustrating isn’t anatomy or physiology—it’s these fucking roadblocks!
We’re all born able to run. Some have the genetics for marathons or even Olympic competition, but the rest of us can still jog around the block. The same goes for singing: not everyone can match Beyoncé or Pavarotti, but most can develop a voice good enough for a church choir, a community theater show, or simply belting along with the radio. Yet hundreds of millions never explore that potential. There are countless reasons, but a lack of vocal resources isn’t one of them. You’ve seen that more people will shout “support the sound” than can accurately diagnose a vocal issue. That’s the kind of insight singers need for a solid foundation.
There is no “Bonamico Method.” Think of me and this course as your voice consigliere—an advisor helping you sort through and possibly incorporate new ideas. This is your journey, your voice, and you’re the one at the helm. You’ll have many teachers, directors, and advisors; my goal isn’t to overpower them, but to equip you to make the most of your gifts.
We’ve arrived at the end of this course. I’d love your feedback, and I’m here to answer any questions. We’re all on this path together, and I want these lessons to be as practical and inspiring as possible. If some harsh criticism lands in my inbox, I’ll try to follow my own advice and remember:
There’s always a better way.
Failure is a springboard to success.
Play hard and try not to get stuck.
Lesson Summary
This final lesson underscores that while technique and knowledge matter, luck and failure often spark the most meaningful learning. Each person’s voice already has immense potential that can be unraveled by facing roadblocks head-on, rather than relying solely on rote methods or rigid systems. By recognizing that failure can lead to insight and that playful experimentation unlocks new possibilities, singers can chart a more authentic and empowering vocal journey.
Innate Vocal Ability: We’re all born with a voice built to explore and play, yet outside influences often limit that potential.
Roadblocks vs. Technique: Emotional or mental blocks hinder progress more than purely physiological issues.
Luck and Serendipity: Unplanned events and “happy accidents” can open doors to breakthroughs traditional methods may miss.
Personal Responsibility: Ultimately, each singer must blend multiple perspectives, trusting their own instincts and readiness to learn.
Exercise or Activity: “Lucky Misstep Turnaround”
Reflect on a Recent ‘Failure’: Think of a frustrating moment in your singing—perhaps a performance hiccup or a lesson that felt unproductive.
Identify the Roadblock: Write down what you believe held you back—e.g., fear of high notes, a distracting environment, or negative self-talk.
Imagine a ‘Lucky’ Twist: Now pretend something unexpected happened (like a barking dog or a surprising new mentor) that forced you to approach the situation differently. Describe this scenario in a few sentences, focusing on how it might open new possibilities.
Action Step: Based on this imagined twist, devise one new tactic or mindset shift you can apply in your next practice session (e.g., letting go of perfectionism, trying an unfamiliar style, or changing your warm-up environment).
Test & Tweak: Put your new tactic into action. Note whether it helps you feel more relaxed, creative, or willing to experiment, and refine it over time for continued growth.
