Maybe You’re Just Not Good Enough

Sometimes when I hear fellow artists gripe about not getting their due, being underrated, or feeling wronged by the unfair industry as a whole, my first thought is: Well, maybe you’re just not good enough. It’s harsh, I know. And it cuts right to the core of something most of us fear—myself included. But before you get too riled up, let me explain: this isn’t about tearing someone down. It’s about challenging them to confront a hard truth and grow from it. It’s about reframing what “good enough” really means and turning it into a call to action.

Because here’s the truth: “good enough” isn’t some universal standard. It’s deeply personal. It’s not about being as good as someone else—it’s about being good enough to succeed with what you have to offer. And maybe, just maybe, that means you’re not there yet. And that’s okay. This way of thinking has gotten me over numerous musical and emotional hurdles.

It’s easy to look at someone else’s success and think, “Why not me?” But the reality is, their strengths aren’t your strengths, and their circumstances aren’t your circumstances. In other words, “you’re not them.”

The person with traditional good looks might attract attention effortlessly. The naturally charismatic person might walk into a room and instantly command the crowd. The flashy performer might turn heads and bring down the house like it’s just another day at the office.

But what if you’re not any of those things? What if you’re the one who has to try harder? Does that mean you’re not good enough? Not at all. It just means you need to figure out how to work with what you have, not what someone else has.

I consider myself a very shy person, with the charisma of a pair of socks, who will never be the life of the party. However, I am a very good listener and inquisitive conversationalist. If you sit next to me on a plane, I’ll know your whole life story by the time we land. Or if you share something with me at a party or after a gig, I’ll probably mention it the next time I see you. Even if it’s not until three years later.

These kinds of things enable me to build much deeper connections than the loud guy wearing the lampshade constantly bragging about his accomplishments. Similarly, the subtle artist with modest technique and a left-of-center vision may not dazzle immediately, but they can create work with layers of depth and meaning that resonate long after the musical moment has passed.

When you have to try harder, you learn things others might never bother to understand. You discover how to adapt, how to innovate, and how to lean into your own strengths. Effort doesn’t make you less capable—it makes you more resourceful.

Of all the tenor saxophonists who were associated with the Young Lions period of the 1990s, today, my playing sounds the most radically different. Some may not agree, but I was probably the least skilled of all of those players. So, as a consequence, I had to devise a different plan of creative action. Otherwise, I felt I’d just spend eternity playing catch up.

Switching to the soprano saxophone, even though I suddenly found myself extremely limited—technically, sonically, musically—I felt liberated not having to be in a race, of which I was the slowest runner. I not only had to think outside the box, I had to build my own box.

Which brings me back to my original point: being “good enough” doesn’t mean meeting someone else’s standard. It means reaching a level where you can succeed in your own way, with your own tools. It means building your own box.

If you’re less outgoing, you might need to be more deliberate about forming more personal, musical, and business relationships. If you don’t have that kind of flash that makes the industry beat down your door, you might have to form your own network of gigs, players, and audiences—a world where your unique qualities are valued. One thing the internet has taught us is that there’s room for everybody.

The key is to stop chasing someone else’s career path and start forging your own.

Maybe you’re just not good enough yet. Or better yet, maybe you are good enough but haven’t figured out how to leverage your strengths. Either way, that’s not the end of the story—it’s the beginning. Being “good enough” isn’t about fitting into someone else’s mold. It’s about shaping your path in a way that makes your strengths shine. Success isn’t one-size-fits-all. It’s about making your own way with what you’ve got.

“Maybe you’re just not good enough” isn’t a judgment; it’s a challenge. It’s a reminder that your journey isn’t about being like someone else. It’s about becoming the version of you that’s capable of thriving, no matter where you start. Because in the end, “good enough” isn’t about them. It’s about you.