1.13.2009

Answering the Call

I've been thinking about this blog lately, reflecting back on the things that I've written about- in particular my own musical endeavors. I've talked about several projects that I've worked on over the last two years, none of which came to fruition, for a variety of reasons. There's the money thing, the "other musicians" thing, the time thing, and hell, sometimes you just get bored, you know?

So I was thinking about this the other day as I was wandering around downtown Long Beach, and about how, as an artist, you have to learn how to fail. The meaning of following the dream isn't in the successes, it's in the failures. It's about trying new things, finding your voice, and falling on your ass. Then GETTING OVER IT.

You have to learn to go with your gut, and to take everything you hear with a grain of salt. People will criticize, but you can't let it get to you. Take what you can from it, but don't take it as the gospel truth. In the end, everyone has an opinion... and it's probably different from yours. Hell, even the people that LIKE what you do could very well like it for totally different reasons than you do. Which is what makes art great- everybody can get something different out of it.

One lesson I learned a few years ago is that you can't get in over your head til you understand the water. Or... some more poetic version of that. This was when I was very early in my understanding of digital recording. I'd recorded some very rough versions of some songs that i'd had at the time, and immediately created a myspace page to promote my project. I had a name, and an idea, and all of that, but there was one crucial element that I did not have- a BAND. This was my first foray into the whole one-man-band thing, and I overlooked something crucial. If I promote this music, people are going to want me to do something with it (gig). Which is exactly what happened. Somehow, though the recordings were rough and there were no vocals, the little bit of promo I was doing got me attention from booking agents. I wound up having to turn down all of these really great offers to play in various venues all over the LA area. As you can imagine, this was very disappointing. The BIG one though... I was contacted by a guy booking a Godhead show at the Whiskey. This was one of those "buy x number of tickets per slot in the evening" type things. Basically, if I bought (for the purpose of selling) x number of tickets, I could open, y number to be second, etc etc all the way up to pre-Godhead. I was FREAKED. One, I love Godhead, and would love to play with them. Two, the Whiskey. Three, I had no money to buy any tickets. And four, even if I'd had the money, I couldn't play anyway because just I'm one guy writing music for a full band. So I called a friend who used to play drums in one of my high school bands, and we spent a while trying to figure out how to pull this off, because it was a golden opportunity. Alas, nothing could be done, and I had to call the guy back and say sorry, can't do it, no band, not enough time, etc.

Since then I've avoided doing this. I'll keep the music I'm working on up on a myspace, but only as a reference for other people. You can't pretend to be something you're not (like, a working band when you're just one 18 year old kid with a guitar and a computer), and you can't rush things. Patience, and resilience, are key. Know you're limits, and establish your priorities and means well before you try to make something happen.

At this point I do have a project, that I absolutely love and am totally stoked about. It's already taken some hits though, most notably from the money thing and the "other musicians" thing (the addition and then subtraction of a vocalist/writing partner). But I adapted my priorities. I know what it's going to take to even begin to make it work, and a couple of pieces are beginning to fall into place. But it's going to take a long time. I realized that with this kind of thing, you can't have a one year plan or even a two year plan. You've got to have a ten year plan. If you want to make it, you've got to be willing to devote a fat freakin' chunk of your life to it. Because, if you're like me, THIS is what you're here for. Art is what gives your life meaning. In turn, you have to give Art your life. That's the nature of the beast.


I thought this would be a lot more profound, but apparently my profundity is sorely lacking at present.

Oh well.

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