In a message dated 4/11/00 9:44:33 PM EST, [EMAIL PROTECTED] writes:
<< but then you could always argue thatyou play music because you want
to, not because you want to make money...
i book bands because I like the music and I want people to hear it...
I don't profit from it at ALL. in fact, sometimes I lose money >>
Ahhh, see now we're getting down to the real issue-the one that keeps me
awake at night. The question: just what the hell am I doing with my life.
You're right, I got into music because it was a calling and something I
really enjoy-but it's also my job. I pay taxes on it, and though I do have a
part time day job, I spend 40 to 50 hours a week doing music. As I get a
little bit older (but I still know how to party,ummm, dude) I am spending an
awful lot of time thinking about the way I've lived my life so far. Surely
there's something righteous about dedicating yourself to a faith that's based
in making other people happy, but are certain lifestyle sacrifices one makes
and one ends up wondering if perhaps one has made a fool of oneself.
I have been playing in clubs since I was 14 years old (bass player syndrome:
you'll have a gig before you're even any good) and I mean for real. When I
was 16, when everyone else was doing whatever 16 year olds do-playing video
games or going on dates-I was playing R&B covers 4 nights a week with guys
who were in their in their 30s. At the time it was a blast, of course, and a
fantastic musical training for a bass player (simply put: most 16 year old
bass players don't play "Expressway To You Heart" over 500 times), whenever I
hear people talking about being young "Remember the Prom?", "We used to go to
football games", etc. all I think of is the smell of stale smoke and being
afraid of coked up bikers. Ah, nostalgia.
Since then I have spent my entire young adult life in some fucking van on the
way to some show. It would be OK if it was just the playing. I'm not looking
for any sympathy, I'm just saying what it is. You drive 5 hours the show
(somewhere in Upstate NY usually), you get there when they told you to but
the soundman doesn't show up for another hour 1/2 and you have to sit there
with all your gear while some bartender gives you the hairy eye. Then you
soundcheck and then sit around and wait 3 or 4 hours to play with nothing to
do but drink-and 9 times out of 10 you are paying full price for those
drinks. Then you play your 45 minute set-except that they always cut off your
last song- and load out and drive home. Generally speaking you will be paid
exactly $20 less than you spent on gas-just enough to make you feel like a
loser as you're pulling into your rehearsal space to unload and go to work.
So yeah, it's fun, but when I'm loading my bass cabinet up the stairs at 5 or
6 in the morning and I know that I'm going to go to work and then do the
whole thing over again that night, and I know that the bartender got paid
last night, the soundman got paid last night and the big dope checking IDs
got paid last night and that they were all in bed 4 hours ago, I feel stupid.
I feel like I've made some really foolish choices in life.
In this cycle of silliness (with it's inherent question always tugging on my
sleeve: "How long? How long can you keep doing this?"), the one saving grace,
the one thing that actually makes you feel like you're accomplishing
something is when you sell a few CDs at a show. When some kid drags his buddy
over and says "I bought your CD at your last show and now he wants a copy"
you actually feel like you are in the right spot in your life. What could be
better than the thought of some kid listening to your music while doing his
laundry, or driving to work or making out with his girlfriend? And the truth
is: his $10 is going right into the gas tank to get you home that night
because all the band members blew their personal cash buying drinks.
So, I've always been OK with this equation. But now the kid goes home,
converts the CD to a WAV file and gives the MP3 to every fucking one of his
friends! And so you say"Ahh, but then those kids will love your songs too and
they'll all come to your next show"-but no they won't because it's only one
of the 600 MP3 files that he sent them. It's not like they had to get on the
cross-town bus and schlep all the way to the one cool store in town to buy
the CD they read about in Magnet. In that scenario they have an emotional
investment in the music. With an MP3 that some kid in your science class sent
you, it's just another piece of junk mail and you might open it or you might
just delete it. Everybody always says "MP3s-exposure, right?" You ever try
paying your rent with fucking exposure? I told my landlord "Hey, man, it's
good exposure for you to have me living here" He still wants his money. You
think that those jerks who started Napster aren't getting paid? Everybody
gets paid, except the musicians. All I'm saying is, try going to you dayjob
for a couple of days just for the exposure and see how it feels.
I went home for Christmas and I saw my 17 year old cousin, Adam. Adam is a
cool kid, but he's lived a pretty easy life. My uncle is kind've loaded
(though I defy anyone in my family to tell you what he actually does. Wears a
tie is the closest I can come to guessing), and Adam has spent an awful lot
of time on the couch playing Playstation. So, Adam says to me "Hey, I
ordered your CD from the website and I think it's really cool". Oh, thanks
Adam, that's great. "So, I made an MP3 out of it and E-mailed it to everyone
at my prep school. " Thank you.
My girlfriend say that you're all not allowed to bring up topics that get me
worked up. I have to lie down now.
Corin
_________________________________________________________
Enlighten your in-box. http://www.topica.com/t/15
