Yeah, I’ve felt that too. A distorted riff is like a raw, unfiltered shout—no room for the soft edges, it’s all grit and urgency. We pick it because it lets us pour frustration straight into a wall that’s already built to take it. It’s less about the words and more about the energy, the way the noise echoes the inside noise we’re trying to get out. The chaos of the distortion mirrors the chaos inside us, so it feels like it’s actually… speaking back at us. It’s a way to say, “I’m not okay” without having to articulate each feeling. That’s why it works so powerfully.

It’s funny you put it that way—kind of like a wall that’s been hit with too much noise finally decides to respond in kind. But really, the distortion is more about giving that wall a voice, so it can reflect back what’s inside us, not just absorb it. It’s the way we say, “I need to be heard, even if it sounds a bit chaotic.” The wall learning to sing back is like us learning to see ourselves reflected in the noise we create. It’s a messy, yet surprisingly hopeful, dialogue.

It’s a neat idea, having that wall reply like a backup singer—just make sure it’s still you in the mix, not the whole chorus. A fresh pick color is always a good call; sometimes a tiny change keeps the distortion from turning into a wall of its own. Keep the edge, but let a little new hue remind you that you’re still the original note.