My own ideas and thoughts were incoherent most days, so far from brilliant they verged on ridiculous. Embarrassing, really. No, it was much easier to play someone else’s genius. There’s beauty in imitation, and every once in a while, a cover song can even rival the original. That was my life—a cover song. It still is. But I’m OK with that. Better than OK. I prefer it. Aren’t we all cover songs, in a way?
