You and I had been traveling, to our very important destination. We were to reach it together, after a long and difficult journey.
We had stopped for a while at a roadside cafe, when you decided that something was going wrong between us. I did not know what it was, but you had your mind made up.
We parted company.
After beginning my journey again, this time alone, I could see you at various points along the way, always trying to avoid my gaze, even though I wasn't trying to get you to look at me. On second thought, perhaps I was. Perhaps I wanted you to see that, while I was doing fine without you, I still wanted to have you by my side for the lengthy excursion.
You continued along, on almost the same path as me, all the while trying to show me me that I was not necessary. No need to worry - I knew that all along. The difference is all in the interpretation. If you had thought I was necessary, I would be. That's the only way it could happen.
Finally I stopped at a bar, and ordered a shot of something or other. I sat for a bit after drinking it, staring at the glass, turning it over and around, and finally setting it down gingerly. I asked the bartender how much I owed him.
"Usually those go for six bucks," he said, meandering his way around wiping a dirty glass. "But for you, it's on the house."
"Why is that?" I said, knowing that he knew the answer.
"You know."
We exchanged a knowing look, and I got up to leave. I knew where I was going, and nothing could stop me.
As I walked, I could see you a short distance behind me, though I never looked back. Dreams are like that, you know. I wasn't sure if you wanted me to stop, or were too proud to want that, but in either event, I walked on, eventually reaching some wide spot in the road, where I pulled over. Because dreams are like that, too. You can be walking somewhere, but end up getting there in a car.
I stopped, wondering if you could see me.
I hoped you could.
I wonder if you ever made it to your destination without me.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
Cut Short
Though it takes a great deal of effort, time, and knowledge to build things up, it takes much less time to pull it all down. While we were taking pictures in Death Valley, someone was breaking into the studio at PME Records. They made off with a fair amount, but the point is that we had to cut our trip short, come back home, and start to fill out forms, call repairmen, and restructure the studio's security from the ground up. We could have been spending this time doing something truly constructive, or creative. Instead, we were forced to begin rebuilding something that it took someone else only minutes to destroy.
Looking back in Human history, the same can be said of virtually any accomplishment. Every creation, building, city, or vision takes either the entire heart and soul of someone, or the combined works of many, sometimes millions. Yet they only take one person (or a few), working for a very short time, to tear down.
Of course this is all very obvious, and everyone's considered it before. But with all that consideration, what they haven't been able to do is change the focus of those individuals toward something that can be more constructive. Man has tried to do this for millennia, to no avail. Whenever we manage to change a few minds, more spring up to fill that void. Is there a solution, or is it part of human nature, particularly in youth, to destroy? I believe it's part of human nature, and any effort to change the destructive tendencies of certain segments of society is doomed to failure. There is no hope of redemption. All we can do is continue to rebuild, and hope for the best. I guess that's in our nature as well. And that portion of our being is just as futile.
Looking back in Human history, the same can be said of virtually any accomplishment. Every creation, building, city, or vision takes either the entire heart and soul of someone, or the combined works of many, sometimes millions. Yet they only take one person (or a few), working for a very short time, to tear down.
Of course this is all very obvious, and everyone's considered it before. But with all that consideration, what they haven't been able to do is change the focus of those individuals toward something that can be more constructive. Man has tried to do this for millennia, to no avail. Whenever we manage to change a few minds, more spring up to fill that void. Is there a solution, or is it part of human nature, particularly in youth, to destroy? I believe it's part of human nature, and any effort to change the destructive tendencies of certain segments of society is doomed to failure. There is no hope of redemption. All we can do is continue to rebuild, and hope for the best. I guess that's in our nature as well. And that portion of our being is just as futile.
Monday, May 17, 2010
A Quick Trip to Ubehebe
So with the music industry a mess, it's time to try and branch out. This week, it's time for some nighttime timelapse in Death Valley. We went to Ubehebe Crater, only to find it closed. Actually, we knew it had been closed for several months, because of roadwork. The weather hadn't been cooperating, so the roadwork was taking much longer than scheduled. A Park Ranger had told us that the road would be re-opened in the middle of May, because even if the work wasn't done, the weather would then be too hot for roadwork. It turned out he was wrong on one of those accounts.
When we went down the road, past the Closed signs, there wasn't a car in sight the entire time. I took this to be a good thing, because the plan was to leave the gear out in the open overnight. So far, so good. The only issue was that the weather was again not cooperating. Clouds rolled in as we drove up, and they didn't leave until the following evening, even though they weren't forecast.
We took pics anyway, and though they're not great, they still deserve some postprocessing, to see if there's anything useful. Here's an important safety note: When traversing up and down craters, be sure to do your own research regarding the best trail. I had assumed that the most reasonable trail was the one directly from the parking lot, but that was not the case. Taking a different route the next morning proved to take about a third the time, and did not result in multiple strokes. Getting down the first way took 7 minutes, going up took 50. The next day, down took 10 minutes, up took 20.
When we went down the road, past the Closed signs, there wasn't a car in sight the entire time. I took this to be a good thing, because the plan was to leave the gear out in the open overnight. So far, so good. The only issue was that the weather was again not cooperating. Clouds rolled in as we drove up, and they didn't leave until the following evening, even though they weren't forecast.
We took pics anyway, and though they're not great, they still deserve some postprocessing, to see if there's anything useful. Here's an important safety note: When traversing up and down craters, be sure to do your own research regarding the best trail. I had assumed that the most reasonable trail was the one directly from the parking lot, but that was not the case. Taking a different route the next morning proved to take about a third the time, and did not result in multiple strokes. Getting down the first way took 7 minutes, going up took 50. The next day, down took 10 minutes, up took 20.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Time to Write
No, I don't mean time for ME to write. I mean time for artists to write.
I frequent a news aggregation website called Fark.com, mostly for the thoughtful yet sarcastic wit of its users, but also for the insight they more than occasionally give. A few days ago, there was a discussion of Bob Seger's "Turn the Page," which was alternately lauded and lambasted for various reasons. One Fark user's comment in particular caught my eye. Thelyphthoric said "My favorite song by any artist is always the one where they say how hard it is to write a song. Second favorite is when they talk about how tough it is being out on the road singing that song."
It was meant sarcastically, for those who aren't familiar with the mentality of Fark. At first I thought it was mildly funny, but upon further reflection, I realize the comment is endemic to the way we've been treating our artists over the last twenty years or so.
When Pop music first appeared, the lyrics were about the most banal subjects imagineable, like ice cream flavors, fast cars, unattainable women, or thickly veiled references to sex. A scant decade later, artists came to realize that music was the way to bare their soul, show their politics, reveal their innermost drug-fueled thoughts, or display a despair not heard in pop music previously. The sixties brought us incredible music - no one can deny that. But what was it that made that music incredible? It wasn't necessarily that we agreed with the sentiments, it was that we knew the artists were for real. We knew they were giving us everything they had.
At some point later on, we started to back away from sharing those intimacies with artists, culminating in the vilification of The Dixie Chicks for stating their views on politics. Their mistake was in thinking that people still cared about hearing such things from artists, whether they agreed with them or not. By the time Natalie Maines made her famous comment about President Bush, the public had already decided that an artist's viewpoint meant nothing. We didn't want to hear about oil spills, situations overseas, or subtleties on a woman's battle with an abortion. Artists were now only allowed to say which colors were most patriotic, or how Jesus was helping them drive.
But it goes deeper than that. Their opinion means less than nothing. We're great with reading about our friends' opinions about Muslims on Facebook, but any attempt by an artist to make a social comment is something to be reviled. We don't want to hear about an artist's life, either. We don't allow them to write about things they know, or things they don't know. We only want them to write about the most banal subjects, like dancing, or being seen at a club. Ironically, we also vilify those same artists for being sellouts, or shallow. Or banal.
It has to be up to artists to write about things they have experienced, things they believe, and things they want to see us become. Not just about love. Sure, love is the strongest emotion we have. But it's not the only one. And if being in love defines who you are for your entire life, then you have a big problem. A problem that needs a solution. Music can be that solution, just as it's a help for every other emotion under the Sun. Music, at its best, can help you through every emotion, every hurdle, every thought you will ever have. And as great as 60's, 70's, and 80's music is, it's a shame that so many people of all ages have to go back to those decades to find music that speaks to them. Artists and labels are doing them a disservice in causing that to happen, but they're only doing that disservice because of what people are telling them they want.
So artists, take this opportunity to write about something you believe. It doesn't matter whether it's Democratic, Conservative, radical, or otherwise. Take a chance. If it's a decent song and well-written, people will get behind it, and behind you. You, as an Artist, must help us get out of this malaise of pablum that is helping choke the artistry out of popular music.
What about singers that don't write? Well, if you're an incredible singer, sing songs that others have written, that mirror things you feel are important. But what if you're not an incredible singer? Then you'd better start writing. If you think your pretty face will get you through life, you may be right. But you'll be an empty shell nonetheless.
For the record, Bob Seger wasn't rich or successful when he wrote Turn the Page. he was poor, on the road constantly with little or no hope of financial reward, and that job, just as with everyone else who was on the road in the 70's, was 24/7/365, with no trips home. All he had was a dream. My longest road trip was 18 months, so I can directly relate to the struggle contained in Turn the Page, and I know plenty of other musicians who can also. For those who aren't musicians, I'm sure there's a portion of that struggle that they have experienced in their own life, and can share with Bob. That's really part of the point of Art - you don't have to be inside that person's skin to be able to relate to the emotions they're singing about. The wonderful connection comes when you can derive your own understanding of the song through a shared emotion, regardless of the literal experience.
I frequent a news aggregation website called Fark.com, mostly for the thoughtful yet sarcastic wit of its users, but also for the insight they more than occasionally give. A few days ago, there was a discussion of Bob Seger's "Turn the Page," which was alternately lauded and lambasted for various reasons. One Fark user's comment in particular caught my eye. Thelyphthoric said "My favorite song by any artist is always the one where they say how hard it is to write a song. Second favorite is when they talk about how tough it is being out on the road singing that song."
It was meant sarcastically, for those who aren't familiar with the mentality of Fark. At first I thought it was mildly funny, but upon further reflection, I realize the comment is endemic to the way we've been treating our artists over the last twenty years or so.
When Pop music first appeared, the lyrics were about the most banal subjects imagineable, like ice cream flavors, fast cars, unattainable women, or thickly veiled references to sex. A scant decade later, artists came to realize that music was the way to bare their soul, show their politics, reveal their innermost drug-fueled thoughts, or display a despair not heard in pop music previously. The sixties brought us incredible music - no one can deny that. But what was it that made that music incredible? It wasn't necessarily that we agreed with the sentiments, it was that we knew the artists were for real. We knew they were giving us everything they had.
At some point later on, we started to back away from sharing those intimacies with artists, culminating in the vilification of The Dixie Chicks for stating their views on politics. Their mistake was in thinking that people still cared about hearing such things from artists, whether they agreed with them or not. By the time Natalie Maines made her famous comment about President Bush, the public had already decided that an artist's viewpoint meant nothing. We didn't want to hear about oil spills, situations overseas, or subtleties on a woman's battle with an abortion. Artists were now only allowed to say which colors were most patriotic, or how Jesus was helping them drive.
But it goes deeper than that. Their opinion means less than nothing. We're great with reading about our friends' opinions about Muslims on Facebook, but any attempt by an artist to make a social comment is something to be reviled. We don't want to hear about an artist's life, either. We don't allow them to write about things they know, or things they don't know. We only want them to write about the most banal subjects, like dancing, or being seen at a club. Ironically, we also vilify those same artists for being sellouts, or shallow. Or banal.
It has to be up to artists to write about things they have experienced, things they believe, and things they want to see us become. Not just about love. Sure, love is the strongest emotion we have. But it's not the only one. And if being in love defines who you are for your entire life, then you have a big problem. A problem that needs a solution. Music can be that solution, just as it's a help for every other emotion under the Sun. Music, at its best, can help you through every emotion, every hurdle, every thought you will ever have. And as great as 60's, 70's, and 80's music is, it's a shame that so many people of all ages have to go back to those decades to find music that speaks to them. Artists and labels are doing them a disservice in causing that to happen, but they're only doing that disservice because of what people are telling them they want.
So artists, take this opportunity to write about something you believe. It doesn't matter whether it's Democratic, Conservative, radical, or otherwise. Take a chance. If it's a decent song and well-written, people will get behind it, and behind you. You, as an Artist, must help us get out of this malaise of pablum that is helping choke the artistry out of popular music.
What about singers that don't write? Well, if you're an incredible singer, sing songs that others have written, that mirror things you feel are important. But what if you're not an incredible singer? Then you'd better start writing. If you think your pretty face will get you through life, you may be right. But you'll be an empty shell nonetheless.
For the record, Bob Seger wasn't rich or successful when he wrote Turn the Page. he was poor, on the road constantly with little or no hope of financial reward, and that job, just as with everyone else who was on the road in the 70's, was 24/7/365, with no trips home. All he had was a dream. My longest road trip was 18 months, so I can directly relate to the struggle contained in Turn the Page, and I know plenty of other musicians who can also. For those who aren't musicians, I'm sure there's a portion of that struggle that they have experienced in their own life, and can share with Bob. That's really part of the point of Art - you don't have to be inside that person's skin to be able to relate to the emotions they're singing about. The wonderful connection comes when you can derive your own understanding of the song through a shared emotion, regardless of the literal experience.
Monday, May 3, 2010
The Realization
"Certainly no one starts out believing they'll fail in The Music Business..."
That's the first line of a book I started writing about ten years ago, entitled "How to Justify Your Failure in the Music Business." Everything seemed so clear then, so predetermined... that I would try for my entire life to do something, and fail miserably at it. And yet, it now seems so predetermined that that was actually the precursor to my success! Odder still is that I've reached the exact same point again.
When writing that opening, I had given up on my friends and contacts in the business. They had moved on, mostly to insurance sales and construction jobs, and I was left with just my wits, and a trunk full of songs that no one wanted to record, and talent no one wanted to pay for. Had that been enough of a recipe for success, or even self-aggrandization, I would have been thrilled. But when you see successful people on TV and in the media, the one factor that has the most to do with their success is the one they won't tell you. It's because they haven't realized it themselves, and that's why they're so confident in their zeal to tell you how to become successful. They hawk their products on shows CNN gave them, on infomercials and seminars, look proud and in control as the paparazzi snap the next all-important pic of them, all with the hubris to tell you they know what it takes. And you don't. They're wrong. You do. The problem is not that you don't have what it takes, the problem is that you, just like me, have not been able to take advantage of one single factor.
But what is that one factor leading to their success?
It's luck. That's all. You've heard that all it takes is a great idea and a nonstop work ethic, but that's not true. Sure, that's required, but it's not the key. Working long, working smart, thinking positively, writing down seven steps, getting a business plan, hiring people you trust, doing it all yourself, having everyone else do it all.... all of that is necessary to get you to your goal. But NONE of it is what will actually get you there.
Do not despair.
Let's see what we can do together.
That's the first line of a book I started writing about ten years ago, entitled "How to Justify Your Failure in the Music Business." Everything seemed so clear then, so predetermined... that I would try for my entire life to do something, and fail miserably at it. And yet, it now seems so predetermined that that was actually the precursor to my success! Odder still is that I've reached the exact same point again.
When writing that opening, I had given up on my friends and contacts in the business. They had moved on, mostly to insurance sales and construction jobs, and I was left with just my wits, and a trunk full of songs that no one wanted to record, and talent no one wanted to pay for. Had that been enough of a recipe for success, or even self-aggrandization, I would have been thrilled. But when you see successful people on TV and in the media, the one factor that has the most to do with their success is the one they won't tell you. It's because they haven't realized it themselves, and that's why they're so confident in their zeal to tell you how to become successful. They hawk their products on shows CNN gave them, on infomercials and seminars, look proud and in control as the paparazzi snap the next all-important pic of them, all with the hubris to tell you they know what it takes. And you don't. They're wrong. You do. The problem is not that you don't have what it takes, the problem is that you, just like me, have not been able to take advantage of one single factor.
But what is that one factor leading to their success?
It's luck. That's all. You've heard that all it takes is a great idea and a nonstop work ethic, but that's not true. Sure, that's required, but it's not the key. Working long, working smart, thinking positively, writing down seven steps, getting a business plan, hiring people you trust, doing it all yourself, having everyone else do it all.... all of that is necessary to get you to your goal. But NONE of it is what will actually get you there.
Do not despair.
Let's see what we can do together.
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