This is a long one, maybe even my longest yet.
I've driven around, flown over, and walked through hundreds of cities and metro areas and I'm always somewhat amazed by the accomplishments of man; the towering buildings, freeways and streets, transportation systems and infrastructures with hundreds of micro economies functioning to prosper the majority. Sometimes it all just seems so ingenious, and it's somewhat smugly reassuring to observe what humanity is capable of. Until I take a step back. From the macro perspective, how fragile is our system! Our global economy is built on a bubble, on debt, on projected profit from that debt. It's an unstable facade, built on nothing ultimately sustainable beyond a hundred years. It's founded on the idea that the current generation is the most important. What we GET is what matters most. The plans that we have made are not plans that will last. They are not plans that will carry us much farther than the scope of our own life-spans. Civilizations greater than ours have arisen and disappeared throughout history, and the plans they made are now seemingly obsolete in the grand scope of things. What makes every generation think it is the most important? Thousands of years ago people much wiser than us implemented their plans with as much foresight as humanly possible, but even then the residual impact is little if any. Our plans are built on temporal knowledge, in the spiritual sense and the timely sense. The foundation for our standard of living is built on sand. Our plans are extremely fragile and near-sighted.
What if there is an Ultimate Plan? A Plan that isn't limited to one person, or one life-span? What if history, ancient and recent, holds proof of that plan unfurling in the macro and the micro sense? I believe in that Plan and Purpose, because I believe in a God who loves and interacts with His creation, but also because I've witnessed His work on the micro level, in my own life, as well as through my parents lives before I was even here.
My parents became Christians in the late 70's. I don't know much about this time in their lives, other than that they were post-hippie travelers who randomly met in Vancouver, BC, thousands of miles from their respective birthplaces (my dad from Halifax, Nova Scotia and my mom from outside of Richmond, VA). While in Vancouver, BC they attended some Gospel meetings and became "born-again" by every sense of the term. Their habits and lifestyles spun a 180 as they implemented their new found moral convictions, got married and started a family.
According to his testimony my dads conversion was a tedious one, spanning seven years and involving him being tracked down by a preacher who seemed to show up at the most random moments. These random interactions eventually led him to give his life to God. I think my moms conversion was a bit more impulsive. Either way, for several years they maintained a very black and white faith.
In 1994 we moved across the border to the US. The new church we attended was more concerned with posturing and judgement than community and love, and the culture slowly chipped away at my parents faith. Areas of their lives and marriage were left unattended, exposed, and allowed to fester due to lack of depth, accountability, honesty, and care for the things they once deemed important. Eventually differences could not be reconciled in their relationship and it lead to their separation, subsequent excommunication from their "church," and divorce. Since then their faith has struggled as shame, resentment, regret and bitterness have taken seats at the table while things like grace, mercy, love and forgiveness grow ever-distant.
Of course this is only my take on the matter, and I'll admit that from the outside it's seemingly easy to discern the consequences and their causes; the causes being justifications for stubbornness, revenge, anger and bitterness, and the consequences being detachment, loneliness, lack of peace and loss of faith. Speculation can only add up to so much, however, and the truth is that things are more confusing and messy on the inside. What I do know is that as of right now neither of my parents are actively pursuing any portion of the faith that once changed their lives. My mom used to read the Bible to us every morning at breakfast, but I'm speculating that she probably hasn't opened it in years. One of the most enduring images I have from my childhood is of my dad sitting at his desk, pouring over his bible and studying scripture, but I doubt he has spent any time doing that lately. Needless to say, both of my parents currently seem concerned only with their individual, short-term plans. They've lost their faith in the Ultimate Plan. I'm not blaming them, because they've had a hard go of it, and I'm not confident that I'm exempt from their circumstances. It could happen to the best of us, and so I must tread lightly and remember that "There by the grace of God go I."
In my experience, something happens when you read the Bible. Something rings divinely true within its pages. When read properly, the Bible doesn't encourage your political stance, tease your intellect or simply resonate with the "poet inside." Instead it grabs your heart and squeezes it until the tears flow. The truth about love, forgiveness and sacrifice is simply that; Truth. It just rings true. It speaks to that part of us that longs for ultimate Truth and absolutes. It puts things in perspective and it causes us to live differently, to love better. It calls us to become a part of the plan. When we read the Bible, it puts us on track. I can tell when a Christian has spent time reading it with enthusiasm recently, and I can usually tell when they haven't. My parents, I suspect, haven't. (If I'm honest with myself it's been too long since I've spent significant time studying the Bible and the symptoms of that have been showing. #realtalk)
In an effort to totally redeem myself (sarcasm) I've been reading this book by Francis Chan called "Crazy Love," and it he discusses his discovery of Gods specific love and divine plan for his life. He comes upon this by reading Jeremiah 1:4-5 where God says to Jeremiah, "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart." Thinking this might have just applied to the prophet Jeremiah, Francis was reminded of Ephesians 2:10, where we are commanded to "Do good works, which God has prepared for us in advance to do." His realization is that God knew us before we were here and prepared a plan for our lives. He planned for us individually ahead of time to follow Him in order to be effective stewards of His love, to do "good works" which advance His Ultimate Plan. We have to choose to be a part of it, and as with the Apostle Paul or my Dad, sometimes he chases people down. His plan is different for everyone in the micro sense, but He's the only Being with any eternal perspective in the macro sense, so we're forced to trust Him in order to be a part of it. People like Martin Luther King, Jr. and Mother Theresa were figures who trusted God's plan and followed it into harms way out of conviction from the calling to do "good works," which I have no doubt God "planned in advance" for them to do. It's a humbling concept that an all powerful God would love us so much and want to know us so intimately that He would chase us down in order to make us a part of His loving plan. When people truly respond to His Plan, you see the loving approach to equality, sacrifice for the weak and service to others like MLK Jr. and Mother Theresa were characterized by.
I think of my parents meeting out of what seemed like sheer happenstance, thousands of miles from their home-towns. I think of their dramatic conversions, how my dad was chased down through a seven year process where God, through experiences and interactions, would not leave him alone. I think of my childhood, my five siblings and my two Haitian-born sisters, the opportunity given to us to learn about God and accept His Plan for our lives... When I step back and look at all this, it doesn't seem like random chance. It seems to me like my parents were accosted by the Holy Spirit, chased down by a God that had a plan, and plan that they had no intent of fulfilling when they started their adulthood. I think about the people in my life who have steered me toward that Plan, even when I fought so ignorantly against it.
I've seen what I claim to be God's work in my life. It sounds crazy, I know, to talk about things you can't see or prove with your basic senses, but I've felt the peace of knowing my Creator. It's better than any other high I've experienced. I've felt drawn and called to certain things, hard things that I didn't want to do, but when I came out on the other end I realized how blessed I'd been for doing them. The point is I wouldn't be here if not for God's work in my parents, and regardless if they admit it or not they were used for His glory in their youth, and although in their 50's they have nearly forgotten His gift, His plan continues through us, their children.
Part of me says He's done chasing them, that His work in them was fulfilled in us, that their role in the Plan is done... but another part of me says He desperately longs for communion with them again. The God I read about in the Bible isn't one that turns His back on lost children. Jesus illustrates God as the father in the Prodigal Son parable. The son spent his entire inheritance partying and dishonoring his father, but in the end his dad accepts him back with loving arms and throws a feast for his lost son who came back to him. Jesus spoke about Gods love is like a shepherd who would leave his ninety-nine sheep in the wilderness just to find that one lost sheep. When I read that I don't think God is fine with any of His sheep or His children wandering off, going their own way, unprotected and vulnerable. I could be stretching it, but perhaps that parable also says something about our innate need for community. Perhaps the ninety-nine in the flock are safer because they have each other, they have strength in numbers, but the lost sheep is all alone, in desperate need of a shepherd and community, and because of it's unique situation the shepherds heart breaks for it. So much so that he leaves the ninety-nine "found" sheep to go find the lost one.
When I read about Gods Plan, I think about it's significance and how it far surpasses our own personal plans. This is much more than just life and death. "Lost" and "Found" have significant spiritual meanings and outcomes. It's true that not all who wander are lost, I've wandered my fair share and I believe it is a part of how I'm wired. I also think it's true that those who seek will find... I've found that when I honestly seek God without any conditions, He always shows up. Those who are truly lost and running away, however, are characterized by selfishness. They give very little. Lost people are plagued with worry and stress, they're misguided, prone to denial and indulgence in frivolity. Chan says in his book that "Worry and stress reek of arrogance." It's true that at their core, worry and stress are selfish feelings. The number one concern of those emotions is Self. Those emotions display lack of peace, distrust and ignorance of God's unconditional love and provision, and they also restrain the ability for one to love and sacrifice for others. Worry and stress cause us to implode, completely taking us away for Gods plan for us to "do good works" which He has "planned in advance for us to do."
I once heard a quote that said something like this: "What you do for yourself in this life will die with you, but what you do for others will live forever." I don't know who wrote it, but it's definitely a Biblical principle. People who become obsessed with their tiny, insignificant plans, become characterized by worry and stress. They become selfish. They become lost.
Jesus tells us that if even man, who is sinful in nature, gives good gifts to his children, how much more does the perfect God of heaven wish to give to those who call him Father? He also says not to worry, because if God takes care of the birds, making sure they have nests and food, how much more will He take care of us, His most beloved creation? The difference is that as humans we have a choice. We can choose to have His help and peace, to live without anxiety or stress or worry or anger or any negative emotions. We can choose to trust in the Ultimate Plan and to do our part by doing "good works he has planned in advance for us to do." Or we can bear our own burdens, hyper-focus on our selfish, temporal plans and watch worry and stress swallow our lives and damage ourselves and our families.
May we all seek the bigger, better plans for our lives.
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
-Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)
Friday, July 9, 2010
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Family
The older you get the more weddings you attend. Sadly, this is also true with funerals. I've been to my fair share of both, but as I get older I think I am finally starting to appreciate the importance of the deepest bond shared between people. This is of course the bond of family.
I have loved and hated my own family, but much like anyone else I've been deeply loyal to them through all of it. In my late teens I think was trying to break free of the responsibility of the family I was born into and I rebelled. In my early twenties I stuck my flag in the ground when we started our own, assured that ours would be stronger than the one my parents provided for us. But only now at twenty-seven am I finally starting to see the value that the old folks always talk about; that unmistakable bond, that sense of community. The shared name that comes with the shared memories, the shared growth, the shared victories, the shared losses. As humans we long for deep community, and a strong family can completely fill that void.
As a generation, as a culture even, I think we've lost a lot of what family means. The sense of entitlement within our generation has wrecked our marriages, made us disloyal and selfish. We think we're being modern or enlightened as we escape the "chains of tradition" but the truth is we lack the sense of family as it was intended, all the while desperately craving it.
There's something that these strong, loving families have that we don't. While sitting in a wedding reception or rehearsal dinner among these families I can feel it. It's emotionally moving. There's something true about it, it just feels right. Members are accepted, they belong, and they are loved within their families. They hurt each other deeply, but they forgive totally and they never turn their back on each other. This is what family was meant to be, to shape us into better people, to provide love and security over time, to pass down gifts and lessons, not diseases and abuse. As I watch two strong families join together through marriage I can't help but be inspired. Even at funerals I can sense of the power of a strong family who comes together to mourn a loved one, to remember the details of a life lived, to offer support to each other. There really is nothing more beautiful, and nothing that better illustrates the Church's intended function than a strong, loving, committed family.
My twenties have been about traveling and music. It's been about Kristie and I doing life together, being adventurous, growing stronger and building a solid relational foundation for our family. I feel a shift happening within me as I turn the corner and start looking at my thirties. I want to further my family. I want to create something strong and loving, rich with memories like I had as a kid but even much better. Something long-lasting. I want to leave a legacy, to give life and to carry on my family name. To pass down history and meaning and lessons and stories. These are the things that matter. There's a new adventure a few years away, just over the horizon; to give what I've received these past several years. To receive, through giving, a new struggle to shape us.
I have loved and hated my own family, but much like anyone else I've been deeply loyal to them through all of it. In my late teens I think was trying to break free of the responsibility of the family I was born into and I rebelled. In my early twenties I stuck my flag in the ground when we started our own, assured that ours would be stronger than the one my parents provided for us. But only now at twenty-seven am I finally starting to see the value that the old folks always talk about; that unmistakable bond, that sense of community. The shared name that comes with the shared memories, the shared growth, the shared victories, the shared losses. As humans we long for deep community, and a strong family can completely fill that void.
As a generation, as a culture even, I think we've lost a lot of what family means. The sense of entitlement within our generation has wrecked our marriages, made us disloyal and selfish. We think we're being modern or enlightened as we escape the "chains of tradition" but the truth is we lack the sense of family as it was intended, all the while desperately craving it.
There's something that these strong, loving families have that we don't. While sitting in a wedding reception or rehearsal dinner among these families I can feel it. It's emotionally moving. There's something true about it, it just feels right. Members are accepted, they belong, and they are loved within their families. They hurt each other deeply, but they forgive totally and they never turn their back on each other. This is what family was meant to be, to shape us into better people, to provide love and security over time, to pass down gifts and lessons, not diseases and abuse. As I watch two strong families join together through marriage I can't help but be inspired. Even at funerals I can sense of the power of a strong family who comes together to mourn a loved one, to remember the details of a life lived, to offer support to each other. There really is nothing more beautiful, and nothing that better illustrates the Church's intended function than a strong, loving, committed family.
My twenties have been about traveling and music. It's been about Kristie and I doing life together, being adventurous, growing stronger and building a solid relational foundation for our family. I feel a shift happening within me as I turn the corner and start looking at my thirties. I want to further my family. I want to create something strong and loving, rich with memories like I had as a kid but even much better. Something long-lasting. I want to leave a legacy, to give life and to carry on my family name. To pass down history and meaning and lessons and stories. These are the things that matter. There's a new adventure a few years away, just over the horizon; to give what I've received these past several years. To receive, through giving, a new struggle to shape us.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
"Making It" In The Music Industry
If you read this blog you probably know by now that "making it" is completely relative, and that sometimes I feel like I've "made it" while other times I feel like I've made a big mistake. However, most of the time I fully understand that my situation as a musician is a lot better than most, and according to most I've "made it," in every sense of the "it." Because of the relativity of "making it" these days, just assume that every time I say "make it" I'm picturing the term with quotations around it even when it doesn't have them.
Because of the belief that I have made it I am frequently asked about how to do it. I field many different questions but most of them really mean: What sort of secret hook up did you have? What trick did you pull to get a leg up on all the other local bands? Who do you know who could get me signed?
The truth is we were just like everyone else, chasing down leads to inevitable dead ends, getting our hopes up over silly things like getting our demo in the hands of popular musicians and producers, putting our faith in things that were a shot in the dark at best. Nevertheless, it is the opinion of many struggling musicians that we have "arrived," so I'll attempt to share our story from the business perspective with the hope of enlightening those aspiring musicians who read this, as well as to dispel a few industry myths.
Here is the condensed version of how we formed: It was February of 2003. Justin and Skip played in bands in high school and had moved closer to Seattle to go to school. They'd been writing songs together for a few months, and when they met Alan at school they asked him play bass on the songs they were writing. They looked for a singer, and tried out over twenty different guys (some hilarious stories about a few of these tryouts) until I answered the ad in the Stranger (Seattle's weekly free liberal-artsy newspaper). I listened to their songs and thought they were really good. I played some of mine for them, and they seemed to like them. We recorded their songs on a tape player outside the band room door, and I went home and wrote the lyrics and melodies to three of them. I came back and sung to the songs live and the rest is history. A lot of history.
I remember there was a certain feeling back then like we were good, better than other bands. Turns out we weren't nearly as good as we thought we were, but I think that feeling is important. If you don't love your music, it'll be hard to get other people to love it. We were also fully committed. We had all realized this was what we wanted to do, and we were completely committed to seeing it through. We dropped out of school and got restaurant jobs so we could practice every day. We spent the summer of 2003 playing anywhere we could, we brought demos to coffee shops, entered battle of the bands contests, networked with other local bands. We never once got paid to play a show (unless we won a contest), and most of the time it cost us to play. We were jerked around by promoters and ignored by the more popular bands. We were just like everyone else.
Talent and Dedication - I think unsuccessful bands usually lack one of those things. Talent makes your songs good, but dedication makes your songs heard. Dedication is probably more important than talent, because talent can be learned through the process of dedication, and as we all know some very untalented bands can also become quite successful. This is probably due to the fact that their dedication surpassed that of other bands, or it could be because of something that you should never count on: luck. The best bands work hard, they don't rely on luck and neither should you.
In our early stages as a band we thought we were pretty good, but we knew we were completely committed. I remember having conversations with my band mates about having no back up plan, about how we were all going to do this thing 100%. Was it smart? Probably not, but it got us this far. We haven't lost a member yet and we've been able to pay our bills for five years, travel, meet people, and impact lives in a surreal way. I wouldn't change it for the world, but it didn't just fall in our lap. We worked for it, struggled for it, and we still do.
Sure you have to have talent, but you can't just have talent alone. Songs are everything. A producer friend told me years ago that "for every thousand songs you write only one will get you paid." It only takes one to build a career, so keep writing. Don't hold on to old songs, always write new ones, improve on the old ones. Not every song will be great, but it could be a stepping stone to something great. Without great songs your chances of "Making It" are slim to none.
I recorded our first demo's in the band room by myself. They turned out pretty bad, so when we finally felt like we'd come into our own as a band we decided to shell out $2000 for a seven song EP. We did this EP with a guy named Casey Bates, who I originally met at audio school in Seattle (he took school much more seriously than I). He had been recording local bands for a few months and his production quality sounded like it was worth the money, so we recorded our 6 best songs and one instrumental with him in about a week. (We recently released the song "Weapon of Choice" from the EP on the Vagabonds Deluxe Edition.)
A good recording is key, and it's easier than ever these days with the advancing capabilities of computers. Label people will always tell you that they can hear through poor production, that they're listening to the song, but they're either lying or delusional. Most of them are song-deaf and you have to slap them in the face with a close-to-finished product before they'll get excited. They want a product that they can take credit for. Do I sound bitter? I hope not, because in my years I've found this to be a simple truth. Good producers can see diamonds in the rough, but A&R's (label representatives) can only see diamonds. Get a good producer, and if your songs are good, the A&R's will spot them. Do not promote yourself with crappy sounding production unless you're like The White Stripes and it somehow strangely fits your genre.
Here is the condensed version of how we got signed: In late 2004 we paid for one of those ads on Purevolume.com back when it was like $150 or something. We were featured on the front page for a week, and our shiny new songs started getting more plays than ever through our Purevolume.com profile. There are tons of sites like Purevolume.com now, and even better ways to get add space and promote yourself. Because of the feature, we were contacted by a guy who worked for EMI-CMG (which is the umbrella label for Tooth and Nail), and he flew out to a show and took us out to eat. He wanted to sign us to a developmental deal, something small at first, where they front a little cash to do a record and then see if they want to sign a real record deal if it does well. It wasn't something we were too excited about at the time, but we were encouraged to know that a label rep found us and thought we were good enough to invest in.
We decided to hold off until we could find representation, which didn't take long because our management sort of found us. We had a buddy in Portland who started a clothing company. He decided to sponsor us as well as some other bands. He loved our EP so much that he sent it to the manager of one of his other bands and the manager contacted us. That manager loved the EP and him and another manager flew up from LA to watch us play. After some debate we decided to let these guys represent us. They were able to get us showcases for Interscope, Epic, and other major labels. None of these showcases added up to anything for us (Side note - we played the worst show in our history as a band at one of these showcases. I'll have to go into detail about that at some point). Eventually through the contact at EMI-CMG our management got a Tooth and Nail A&R to come out to a show in Seattle. He loved the show and over the next few months we played more showcases for Tooth and Nail, negotiated a contract and signed it in June of 2005.
Getting signed is only the beginning (but it's not the only beginning, there are plenty of ways to DIY and do fine nowadays). Once signed, you have a pass to play on the national level, but it's not like you've suddenly arrived. The real work has only just begun, and the cycle of writing, recording, and touring can go on for as long as you are mildly successful (which in our case has been over five years). If you're songs are good enough, and you're dedicated enough, someone somewhere is going to discover you and want to invest in you. If you're talented and dedicated enough people will purchase your music, come to your shows and support what you do. It takes time and dedication to make it happen, but it can happen. Remember things like "luck" and "chance" are fairy tales at best, it's the "blood," "sweat" and "tears" that you should bank on.
When you look at our story you'll find that all the good things happened when people listened to our songs and loved them. That's a pretty simple test. When people hear your music do they flip out? Is it that good? "Pretty good" wont cut it in this industry, music has to move people in some way (even if it's just to dance) in order for it to spread. Not everyone will flip out, but it's always a good sign when the people who listen to music for a living enjoy listening to yours.
Not Quitting - I think that might be the most important thing. So many good bands and talented musicians hang it up before they really give it their all. Opportunities come with time, and you have to give yourself time in order to be presented with them. If you really want to make a career out of music, "not quitting" is probably the best thing you can do.
Because of the belief that I have made it I am frequently asked about how to do it. I field many different questions but most of them really mean: What sort of secret hook up did you have? What trick did you pull to get a leg up on all the other local bands? Who do you know who could get me signed?
The truth is we were just like everyone else, chasing down leads to inevitable dead ends, getting our hopes up over silly things like getting our demo in the hands of popular musicians and producers, putting our faith in things that were a shot in the dark at best. Nevertheless, it is the opinion of many struggling musicians that we have "arrived," so I'll attempt to share our story from the business perspective with the hope of enlightening those aspiring musicians who read this, as well as to dispel a few industry myths.
Here is the condensed version of how we formed: It was February of 2003. Justin and Skip played in bands in high school and had moved closer to Seattle to go to school. They'd been writing songs together for a few months, and when they met Alan at school they asked him play bass on the songs they were writing. They looked for a singer, and tried out over twenty different guys (some hilarious stories about a few of these tryouts) until I answered the ad in the Stranger (Seattle's weekly free liberal-artsy newspaper). I listened to their songs and thought they were really good. I played some of mine for them, and they seemed to like them. We recorded their songs on a tape player outside the band room door, and I went home and wrote the lyrics and melodies to three of them. I came back and sung to the songs live and the rest is history. A lot of history.
I remember there was a certain feeling back then like we were good, better than other bands. Turns out we weren't nearly as good as we thought we were, but I think that feeling is important. If you don't love your music, it'll be hard to get other people to love it. We were also fully committed. We had all realized this was what we wanted to do, and we were completely committed to seeing it through. We dropped out of school and got restaurant jobs so we could practice every day. We spent the summer of 2003 playing anywhere we could, we brought demos to coffee shops, entered battle of the bands contests, networked with other local bands. We never once got paid to play a show (unless we won a contest), and most of the time it cost us to play. We were jerked around by promoters and ignored by the more popular bands. We were just like everyone else.
Talent and Dedication - I think unsuccessful bands usually lack one of those things. Talent makes your songs good, but dedication makes your songs heard. Dedication is probably more important than talent, because talent can be learned through the process of dedication, and as we all know some very untalented bands can also become quite successful. This is probably due to the fact that their dedication surpassed that of other bands, or it could be because of something that you should never count on: luck. The best bands work hard, they don't rely on luck and neither should you.
In our early stages as a band we thought we were pretty good, but we knew we were completely committed. I remember having conversations with my band mates about having no back up plan, about how we were all going to do this thing 100%. Was it smart? Probably not, but it got us this far. We haven't lost a member yet and we've been able to pay our bills for five years, travel, meet people, and impact lives in a surreal way. I wouldn't change it for the world, but it didn't just fall in our lap. We worked for it, struggled for it, and we still do.
Sure you have to have talent, but you can't just have talent alone. Songs are everything. A producer friend told me years ago that "for every thousand songs you write only one will get you paid." It only takes one to build a career, so keep writing. Don't hold on to old songs, always write new ones, improve on the old ones. Not every song will be great, but it could be a stepping stone to something great. Without great songs your chances of "Making It" are slim to none.
I recorded our first demo's in the band room by myself. They turned out pretty bad, so when we finally felt like we'd come into our own as a band we decided to shell out $2000 for a seven song EP. We did this EP with a guy named Casey Bates, who I originally met at audio school in Seattle (he took school much more seriously than I). He had been recording local bands for a few months and his production quality sounded like it was worth the money, so we recorded our 6 best songs and one instrumental with him in about a week. (We recently released the song "Weapon of Choice" from the EP on the Vagabonds Deluxe Edition.)
A good recording is key, and it's easier than ever these days with the advancing capabilities of computers. Label people will always tell you that they can hear through poor production, that they're listening to the song, but they're either lying or delusional. Most of them are song-deaf and you have to slap them in the face with a close-to-finished product before they'll get excited. They want a product that they can take credit for. Do I sound bitter? I hope not, because in my years I've found this to be a simple truth. Good producers can see diamonds in the rough, but A&R's (label representatives) can only see diamonds. Get a good producer, and if your songs are good, the A&R's will spot them. Do not promote yourself with crappy sounding production unless you're like The White Stripes and it somehow strangely fits your genre.
Here is the condensed version of how we got signed: In late 2004 we paid for one of those ads on Purevolume.com back when it was like $150 or something. We were featured on the front page for a week, and our shiny new songs started getting more plays than ever through our Purevolume.com profile. There are tons of sites like Purevolume.com now, and even better ways to get add space and promote yourself. Because of the feature, we were contacted by a guy who worked for EMI-CMG (which is the umbrella label for Tooth and Nail), and he flew out to a show and took us out to eat. He wanted to sign us to a developmental deal, something small at first, where they front a little cash to do a record and then see if they want to sign a real record deal if it does well. It wasn't something we were too excited about at the time, but we were encouraged to know that a label rep found us and thought we were good enough to invest in.
We decided to hold off until we could find representation, which didn't take long because our management sort of found us. We had a buddy in Portland who started a clothing company. He decided to sponsor us as well as some other bands. He loved our EP so much that he sent it to the manager of one of his other bands and the manager contacted us. That manager loved the EP and him and another manager flew up from LA to watch us play. After some debate we decided to let these guys represent us. They were able to get us showcases for Interscope, Epic, and other major labels. None of these showcases added up to anything for us (Side note - we played the worst show in our history as a band at one of these showcases. I'll have to go into detail about that at some point). Eventually through the contact at EMI-CMG our management got a Tooth and Nail A&R to come out to a show in Seattle. He loved the show and over the next few months we played more showcases for Tooth and Nail, negotiated a contract and signed it in June of 2005.
Getting signed is only the beginning (but it's not the only beginning, there are plenty of ways to DIY and do fine nowadays). Once signed, you have a pass to play on the national level, but it's not like you've suddenly arrived. The real work has only just begun, and the cycle of writing, recording, and touring can go on for as long as you are mildly successful (which in our case has been over five years). If you're songs are good enough, and you're dedicated enough, someone somewhere is going to discover you and want to invest in you. If you're talented and dedicated enough people will purchase your music, come to your shows and support what you do. It takes time and dedication to make it happen, but it can happen. Remember things like "luck" and "chance" are fairy tales at best, it's the "blood," "sweat" and "tears" that you should bank on.
When you look at our story you'll find that all the good things happened when people listened to our songs and loved them. That's a pretty simple test. When people hear your music do they flip out? Is it that good? "Pretty good" wont cut it in this industry, music has to move people in some way (even if it's just to dance) in order for it to spread. Not everyone will flip out, but it's always a good sign when the people who listen to music for a living enjoy listening to yours.
Not Quitting - I think that might be the most important thing. So many good bands and talented musicians hang it up before they really give it their all. Opportunities come with time, and you have to give yourself time in order to be presented with them. If you really want to make a career out of music, "not quitting" is probably the best thing you can do.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Tour Log #7: Going Home
Tonight marks the first tour stop on our trek back to Seattle. Finally. We've had only about a week off since March and it'll be good to spend some days home this summer. It's odd to think that in 2006 we played close to 200 shows, and slowly but steadily we've played less and less each year. I think this is in part because we no longer have to tour JUST to tour, but I think its also in part because we're a bit more weary of it nowadays. Tour is only necessary in smaller doses, and it also happens to be more exciting for us as such. We've established our base, and we will take our opportunities as they present themselves. No need to force it. No need to beat the streets for scraps. No need to risk a potential burnout. We're going home for the summer to recharge and sustain ourselves with fly-dates, festivals and fairs. I'm looking forward to the weekend trips, the week days at home, cooking, writing, and hopefully producing. All this is nine days and 1800 miles away, but so much closer than it was a month ago.
I tell Kristie I'm "on my way." I tell her that all the time, actually, regardless of where we are in the tour, but it's usually only figurative. Now it is literal. I am literally getting closer, and that feels good.
I can say that I've felt blessed by this tour. With bands dropping off a tour like they have it's hard to expect decent results. We've been pleasantly surprised by the turnouts, and by the energy of the crowds. We can tell that our music does matter, and that with each record we form a deeper relationship with our fans. It's inspired us, and lately (I can speak for all of us) we've felt blessed. However much we fail ourselves and lose track of our vision, we can always count on our fans reminding us. Through your stories, sincere thanks, and just plain old showing up we are reminded why we take this show on the road every year. Why it is still worthwhile. If you've showed up this year, thank you for appreciating our art enough to support it! We do not take you for granted.
For those of you who are tired of this insipid journaling, I'll get back to essay-blogging soon enough.
-Matt
I tell Kristie I'm "on my way." I tell her that all the time, actually, regardless of where we are in the tour, but it's usually only figurative. Now it is literal. I am literally getting closer, and that feels good.
I can say that I've felt blessed by this tour. With bands dropping off a tour like they have it's hard to expect decent results. We've been pleasantly surprised by the turnouts, and by the energy of the crowds. We can tell that our music does matter, and that with each record we form a deeper relationship with our fans. It's inspired us, and lately (I can speak for all of us) we've felt blessed. However much we fail ourselves and lose track of our vision, we can always count on our fans reminding us. Through your stories, sincere thanks, and just plain old showing up we are reminded why we take this show on the road every year. Why it is still worthwhile. If you've showed up this year, thank you for appreciating our art enough to support it! We do not take you for granted.
For those of you who are tired of this insipid journaling, I'll get back to essay-blogging soon enough.
-Matt
Monday, May 10, 2010
Tour Log #6: Vocal Rest
I'm sitting in the van (also sometimes referred to as the Green Beatle or the DonJon) in Jermyn, PA right outside of Scranton, waiting to play our 7th show in a string of 12 in a row today. I've been employing the "vocal rest" technique daily and counting down the shows until we take that coveted day off. Vocal rest is when I don't use my voice all day until I warm up pre-show. These days it's all I can do to get through a set without blowing it completely. It's been good for me though, this not talking business, because usually I talk far too much. It allows me to observe and process as opposed to my usual immerse and react. One day we'll have in-ear monitors which will help preserve my voice, or maybe we wont, but I can at least hope for the best!
Ah, I just caught wind that the catering is in, and me being a committed Freegan cannot pass this opportunity up.
Please pray my voice will hold out until the day off! We don't want to have to cancel any shows, or worse, sound like complete garbage.
Love,
Matt
Ah, I just caught wind that the catering is in, and me being a committed Freegan cannot pass this opportunity up.
Please pray my voice will hold out until the day off! We don't want to have to cancel any shows, or worse, sound like complete garbage.
Love,
Matt
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Tour Log #5: Jesters
I'll be honest with you. Sometimes I wonder if this is really worth it. When will this stop? This beating the streets like they owe us something. To what end?
I do not need pity, encouraging words, sympathy or even empathy. I only need to vent. I've never been one to polish myself up or adopt and portray the illusional lifestyle of the rock star or the scene star, or whoever people want me to be. I'm just me. I'm well aware of where I am, and I believe the truth in the quote by Gary Hamel that says, "The longer you're down in the trenches the easier it is to mistake the edge of your rut for the horizon." Perhaps that is where I am now, the trenches, and for the life of me I can't see passed the rut.
Does any one night make a difference when the next we do it all over again? We live without consequence and leave with only one regret; that we didn't have more. More of our fair share? More of what we're owed? Maybe some reassurance that this is the right path? We are owed nothing. We are the jesters of this country. Cheap entertainment for the outcasts, by the outcasts.
Fitting, but to what end?
Is this a pipe dream? A projection of ego? Will it all come crashing down, taking casualties with it, proving itself a mistake? Sometimes I feel it slipping...
Two years ago I tapped something I was feeling into my phone, it never made it into a song but occasionally the feeling returns to me:
I can't hold this world together anymore
It's tearing at the seams
The pressure's building soon it will explode
And nothing will remain but me
Like chopper blades the things I can't control
Have cut me down and left me here to bleed
The pressure's building soon I will explode
And chase away the people close to me
It's not the deepest or most original piece of poetry I've written, I know that, but it's honest. I suppose it reflects anger for how brutal the things out of our control can be to us... self destructive anger. Why? Because as much as struggling for years has built my character I will always at my core hate it. Even when I rejoice in my struggles, those few moments of unwavering joy and peace are fleeting. I always return to the constant, the thing that never changes (see blog post: The Struggle). I want to ignore it, to run from it, because I don't like it.
I always return to the reality that I'm broke at twenty-seven, with no current future outside of writing songs that on a great night two hundred people will show up to listen to live, paying us enough money for gas and a hotel and a few hundred bucks at the end of a six week tour. We take that money and we try to save it, but bills and debt pile up and we're forced back out on the road. I've damaged my voice so many times that the slightest thing will cause me to lose it. Without in-ear monitors I have no chance of saving it, especially at the tiny venues with the terrible sound systems and the incompetent sound people, but we can't afford an in-ear monitoring system. We can't afford a tour manager to take care of the things we currently struggle to take care of. We can't afford a sound person to make sure we can hear ourselves so we don't lose our voices or sound terrible live. We can't afford any luxury that would make us perform better, feel better, sound better, or stay healthier. We can't afford anything good in the trenches.
I wouldn't wish this life on anyone. It's groundhog day every day, with seemingly no headway made in any practical way. Sometimes when I'm on stage I feel like an aerobics instructor at best, dancing and sweating to the beat and trying desperately to encourage the audience to do the same. When I feel that way I start to resent our music. I start to hate it. We're just one band in a sea of bands, and we're running out of the naivete required to plug away like this for years to come.
Again I don't want pity, or any sympathetic response you may feel inclined to type. I especially don't need people to tell me that I'm lucky, and that I should feel blessed and that they would kill to be in my shoes. The truth is, most people wouldn't last one tour before their first mental breakdown. I've seen it. Most people are far more domesticated than they realize. Me? I'm built for this constant moving, I'm not a nester at all, and my struggle has been made obvious to you via this blog.
The only people that I've been able to relate to outside of touring are military people. They too leave their loved ones for months on end, putting themselves in harms way for a certain set of ideals in an attempt to be a part of something bigger than themselves. In the end, most military people justify it because of the paycheck. The ideals fade, the sense of duty becomes clouded and they get jaded too. But the paycheck keeps coming, so they keep re-signing with the hope of early retirement and financial freedom.
I suppose money is a piss-poor motive on the grand scheme of things, but it sure would be a nice thing to fall back on!
RANT: DONE
P.S - Please know that I do not feel this way all the time, and that most of the time I feel incredibly blessed to have the opportunity to be the voice of change in the lives of our listeners. I just felt like it was high time I wrote this feeling down so I can keep it contained in clear view.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Artists Aren't Politicians
Part of the appeal of music is the idea that somebody can supernaturally speak to your soul. We idolize our favorite musicians, pining after their every creation as if they have the ability to communicate on a higher level than others in their field. I think as a culture, as a race, we love fantasy. We love magic and fairy tales, and music has the ability to fall into any or all those categories. It strikes the similar mystical chord within us. We don't want to believe that these people (these favored musicians of ours) are on the same playing field as the rest of us. We want to believe they're playing a whole different game, on a whole different plane, and that we're just catching a glimpse of what they've seen. They're somehow more cognizant, more aware, more in tune with the metaphysical. They are like prophets and we scramble to hear their words, to be moved by their musings and melodies, to receive the message we otherwise could not have heard. The message of most importance.
We treat them like prophets, these favored musicians, but just like the prophets of old we stone them when they say the things we don't want to hear. Our fickle culture which tends to move quickly from one emotional extreme to the next seems to lack the loyalty and wisdom to hear something unexpected, critical or challenging. In a world where instant gratification is god, digging for food is too burdensome for most and can even incite contempt in a few. Not only do we write these prophets off when they deviate from our expectations, we can quickly write off and discard what was once deemed by us as profound.
I wonder why this is? I do it all the time. The music I envied ten years ago is music I'm sometimes embarrassed to admit I listened to. Perhaps it's because we attach ourselves so tightly to Status, whose standards are set by Culture, which is driven in a big way by Trend through Media. The music I liked is no longer trendy. Of course, there are some things that appealed to me in my younger state that no longer speak to me as an adult simply because they lack the maturity and depth I now crave, but most of the time I've grown out of things primarily because they became cliche, overdone, and out of fashion. I need growth, progression and challenge to stay interested.
Some people are the opposite. They like what they liked when they were in their younger, more hormonal state. Music meant more back then, when the hair on your arms and neck would stand up and a feeling of euphoria would wash over you at the hint of a decent melody. Nostalgia takes over, and they attach it to the music. If the music was the same now as it was back then, maybe it would have the same effect, but alas, it's out of style and there are only figments of it left in it's modern counterparts.
I think the truth lies somewhere in between. I agree that when I was younger I was much more impressionable, and that music had a way of moving me to a degree that it rarely does these days. I also think that good music in the mainstream is harder to find. I mean good, emotional, meaningful music. Trend drives so much of what we hear, and often times the music is creative but the lyrics are too shallow or too obscure for us to relate on that deeper level. It's cool sounding, we're supposed to like it, but it doesn't really move us at our core. Musicians are playing the Trend game all too often to appeal to the masses, or even the niches.
The fact is musicians aren't politicians. Art should not be dictated by Media or Trend. Art should be free from contamination. Art needs integrity to be true art. The second an artist starts listening to his critics is the second he loses perspective, gives in, and starts becoming less effective. But it's a two-way street. We as listeners shouldn't stone our prophets. We should not assume they will create what we want them to create in the exact way that we expect. We should not assume that they listen to our comments and criticisms, because if we assume that then we also have to assume that they are fake artists. If they do what they do to please us then they are nothing more than politicians. Support those who create art you identify with and they will continue to create. Turn on them for creating something unexpected and they may be forced into silence without to resources to publish what they create.
Not everyone will understand every piece of art that an artist creates, but if the artist is good, someone will identify with all of them. The reason we loved our favored artists and musicians is because they didn't sound like everyone else, they trail-blazed with something that contained more substance than their counterparts. We should not chastise them for taking paths we do not understand. We should not stone our prophets, we should hear them out. I hated Brand New's Deja Entendu the first three times I heard it. Now it's in my top ten of all time. I didn't expect it, but it doesn't mean it's not completely genius. How many painters were ridiculed in their lifetimes, only to be discovered as prolific, creative masters after their deaths? The answer is too many to count.
For you artists out there, aspiring or veteran, I implore you to be independently creative regardless of what people think. Do not place your validity in the opinions of the layman. Even if 9/10 misunderstand you, remember these words:
We treat them like prophets, these favored musicians, but just like the prophets of old we stone them when they say the things we don't want to hear. Our fickle culture which tends to move quickly from one emotional extreme to the next seems to lack the loyalty and wisdom to hear something unexpected, critical or challenging. In a world where instant gratification is god, digging for food is too burdensome for most and can even incite contempt in a few. Not only do we write these prophets off when they deviate from our expectations, we can quickly write off and discard what was once deemed by us as profound.
I wonder why this is? I do it all the time. The music I envied ten years ago is music I'm sometimes embarrassed to admit I listened to. Perhaps it's because we attach ourselves so tightly to Status, whose standards are set by Culture, which is driven in a big way by Trend through Media. The music I liked is no longer trendy. Of course, there are some things that appealed to me in my younger state that no longer speak to me as an adult simply because they lack the maturity and depth I now crave, but most of the time I've grown out of things primarily because they became cliche, overdone, and out of fashion. I need growth, progression and challenge to stay interested.
Some people are the opposite. They like what they liked when they were in their younger, more hormonal state. Music meant more back then, when the hair on your arms and neck would stand up and a feeling of euphoria would wash over you at the hint of a decent melody. Nostalgia takes over, and they attach it to the music. If the music was the same now as it was back then, maybe it would have the same effect, but alas, it's out of style and there are only figments of it left in it's modern counterparts.
I think the truth lies somewhere in between. I agree that when I was younger I was much more impressionable, and that music had a way of moving me to a degree that it rarely does these days. I also think that good music in the mainstream is harder to find. I mean good, emotional, meaningful music. Trend drives so much of what we hear, and often times the music is creative but the lyrics are too shallow or too obscure for us to relate on that deeper level. It's cool sounding, we're supposed to like it, but it doesn't really move us at our core. Musicians are playing the Trend game all too often to appeal to the masses, or even the niches.
The fact is musicians aren't politicians. Art should not be dictated by Media or Trend. Art should be free from contamination. Art needs integrity to be true art. The second an artist starts listening to his critics is the second he loses perspective, gives in, and starts becoming less effective. But it's a two-way street. We as listeners shouldn't stone our prophets. We should not assume they will create what we want them to create in the exact way that we expect. We should not assume that they listen to our comments and criticisms, because if we assume that then we also have to assume that they are fake artists. If they do what they do to please us then they are nothing more than politicians. Support those who create art you identify with and they will continue to create. Turn on them for creating something unexpected and they may be forced into silence without to resources to publish what they create.
Not everyone will understand every piece of art that an artist creates, but if the artist is good, someone will identify with all of them. The reason we loved our favored artists and musicians is because they didn't sound like everyone else, they trail-blazed with something that contained more substance than their counterparts. We should not chastise them for taking paths we do not understand. We should not stone our prophets, we should hear them out. I hated Brand New's Deja Entendu the first three times I heard it. Now it's in my top ten of all time. I didn't expect it, but it doesn't mean it's not completely genius. How many painters were ridiculed in their lifetimes, only to be discovered as prolific, creative masters after their deaths? The answer is too many to count.
For you artists out there, aspiring or veteran, I implore you to be independently creative regardless of what people think. Do not place your validity in the opinions of the layman. Even if 9/10 misunderstand you, remember these words:
It doesn’t matter how many people don’t get it. What matters is how many people do.
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