Yes, I’m a perfectionist: a lousy perfectionist.
All the great musicians, as well as the not-so-great musicians, have perfectionism drilled into their heads from the first day the decide to take up studying music. Not only perfectionist, but tending toward OCD (why do you think we spend hours on end going over the same small passage? As the old adage goes, “Practice makes perfect!”)
Part of the problem has been the recording industry. Do you know why John Philip Sousa rarely, if ever, sat in front of the recording horn with his groups? That would have set the expectation by the public that this is how a work is to sound EVERY TIME! It didn’t matter if you were having an “off-day.” If you couldn’t meet that standard every time, you were considered to be slacking off, and not worth the money you paid to see and hear the act. Believe me, the public can be very hypocritical and judgemental. (I learned that lesson the hard way: I was one of the featured soloist my senior year in high school for that high school’s night of music. I came out in front of the band to start my solo. Partway through the number, I see mom and dad in the audience. Dad, being ever the jackass, had this smirk on his face that said, “I’m gonna make you f!ck up so badly that you’ll never recover. Once you f!ck up, I’ll embarrass you so badly, you’ll never show your face in public again. At the concert break, I caught hell from the band director to the point I was ready to pack it in right then and there. This, coming after performing with the National High School Honors Band, which was under the direction of Willian D. Revelli, the much revered and feared director of bands emeritus of the University of Michigan. The slightest mistake during a rehearsal would have him going into a 5 hour tirade.)
(As an aside, the Sousa Band still exists. They go by the name Of the Ringgold Band, of Ringgold, PA. Sousa died in Ringgold, PA, while he and his band were on tour. A friend of mine from college, who married my accompanist from college, became their director after retiring from teaching music in the public schools for 35 years.)
What the public doesn’t realize is the only see and hear the end result. They either can’t, or won’t, recognize mow much time and effort one spends locked in a practice room or a rehearsal hall perfecting one’s craft.