I used to believe I was very bad at singing (mainly because my parents told me I was), but I sang karaoke (when drunk) a couple of times and noticed that people actually enjoyed me singing, so I started singing karaoke regularly, and I still do so. I’ve had a few people contacting me on Facebook and wanting to get to know me because they think I’m such an awesome singer—if three years ago someone had told me this would happen, I would never have believed them.
I on the other hand, believe I am very bad at singing because what I hear when I sing is horrible. I have fairly good (if untrained) musical hearing and love listening to others sing, so I think it’s likely I’m right about myself.
My parents have indeed always told me I sound horrible and have no musical talent and must never sing. But I think their actual influence was mostly in convincing me not to try to learn/practice to sing.
can be somewhat different from what others hear. Try recording yourself and listening back. (Though for some reason most people hate that, at least with non-singing speech—I think I once read about some study about that on Language Log.)
ETA: More anecdotal evidence that people might underestimate how good they are at singing:
A couple weeks ago I was in the bar where I usually sing karaoke on Mondays, and a girl (whom I knew by sight because her boyfriend studies in the same university department as me, but with whom I had never spoken before) was about to sing a song; the bartender asked her whether she would be OK with me accompanying her, she accepted and we started singing; but the song was much higher than my usual singing voice, so I had to strain my voice to sing in tune and I thought I sounded ridiculous, whereas she had a beautiful voice. (I could have used falsetto, or sung an octave lower, but I didn’t feel like experimenting while singing with someone I barely knew.) So I kept my mike further and further away from my mouth (noticing she looked disappointed) until after the end of the second verse I put the mike down and let the girl go on singing alone.
Today I ran into that girl by the coffee vending machines in my university, and she asked whether that night I had stopped singing because she was so bad I had trouble keeping in tune with her, and said that this means a lot to her, because she’s taking singing classes; when I explained her the actual reason I had stopped, she told me she thought I actually sounded fine. I said she sounded great too, and she said that she still had much work to do; then she asked me whether I was taking singing classes at [such-and-such school, which some of the guys at the bar were attending]. She seemed quite surprised when I told her I wasn’t.
I wonder whether some analogue of the Dunning–Kruger effect–impostor syndrome combination applies, whereby bad singers think they sing better than they actually do, and good singers think they sing worse than they actually do.
I used to believe I was very bad at singing (mainly because my parents told me I was), but I sang karaoke (when drunk) a couple of times and noticed that people actually enjoyed me singing, so I started singing karaoke regularly, and I still do so. I’ve had a few people contacting me on Facebook and wanting to get to know me because they think I’m such an awesome singer—if three years ago someone had told me this would happen, I would never have believed them.
Good for you!
I on the other hand, believe I am very bad at singing because what I hear when I sing is horrible. I have fairly good (if untrained) musical hearing and love listening to others sing, so I think it’s likely I’m right about myself.
My parents have indeed always told me I sound horrible and have no musical talent and must never sing. But I think their actual influence was mostly in convincing me not to try to learn/practice to sing.
can be somewhat different from what others hear. Try recording yourself and listening back. (Though for some reason most people hate that, at least with non-singing speech—I think I once read about some study about that on Language Log.)
ETA: More anecdotal evidence that people might underestimate how good they are at singing:
A couple weeks ago I was in the bar where I usually sing karaoke on Mondays, and a girl (whom I knew by sight because her boyfriend studies in the same university department as me, but with whom I had never spoken before) was about to sing a song; the bartender asked her whether she would be OK with me accompanying her, she accepted and we started singing; but the song was much higher than my usual singing voice, so I had to strain my voice to sing in tune and I thought I sounded ridiculous, whereas she had a beautiful voice. (I could have used falsetto, or sung an octave lower, but I didn’t feel like experimenting while singing with someone I barely knew.) So I kept my mike further and further away from my mouth (noticing she looked disappointed) until after the end of the second verse I put the mike down and let the girl go on singing alone.
Today I ran into that girl by the coffee vending machines in my university, and she asked whether that night I had stopped singing because she was so bad I had trouble keeping in tune with her, and said that this means a lot to her, because she’s taking singing classes; when I explained her the actual reason I had stopped, she told me she thought I actually sounded fine. I said she sounded great too, and she said that she still had much work to do; then she asked me whether I was taking singing classes at [such-and-such school, which some of the guys at the bar were attending]. She seemed quite surprised when I told her I wasn’t.
I wonder whether some analogue of the Dunning–Kruger effect–impostor syndrome combination applies, whereby bad singers think they sing better than they actually do, and good singers think they sing worse than they actually do.