Nostalgia

Quick question:

If sometimes you write a song and realize it is "pretty okay" but you know from experience that a lot of people will absolutely love it except the people like you who will agree it is "pretty okay" so you don't record or release it, you just shelve it, then the years go by and you get older and one day you pick that song off the shelf and start strumming the chords and you realize that nostalgia has added several-years-worth of value to it and it transports you back to who you were when you wrote it and a lump forms in your throat and you can barely sing it and your immediate thought is, "Damn, this is good." Is it?

Labeling is for Losers

The things I'm the most proud of doing didn't get done without conflict. I wasn't following a specific recipe. The ingredients weren't all in front of me, neatly labeled to ease my mind.

You can't start anything good by labeling, but I find that I like to label myself when start feeling insecure. I say, "I'm just a singer," when I feel like an inadequate guitar player, or "I'm just a songwriter," when I feel like I don't have good enough control over my voice. I say things like, "I'm more of a poet than a musician," when I feel like my arrangements start to bore me, or "I'm more artist than engineer," when I can't get the software to work for me.

These little labels are deadly. They can stop me before I even start.

But it's not just internal, I find a lot of conversations I have with people contain a subtext of labeling. With friends I often converse about likes and dislikes, determining why we are different from each other. I've had this discussion with my moderate friends, I say, "You're okay with a little bit of this and a little bit of that, but I want excitement, I want to push the limits and see where it all goes." There, I've just labeled us: You're moderate, I'm extreme. 

Nobody is one thing all the time, but for some reason we want those absolute, sweeping statements to be true. We like everyone neatly packaged and labeled so we can chuckle at those predefined characteristics as they manifest themselves:  

"Oh, that's just Matt, always so extreme."

We love to know what to expect. Our humanity doesn't like surprises.  Maybe this is because there's enough of the unknown out there to worry us. Perhaps that's why we're motivated to move things into the "known" category. 

Either way, it seems to me we tend compartmentalize and cram people into boxes, and if they don't fit, we discard them. We do the same with God (I can't believe in a God who would...). The problem with labels is they're usually either wrong or not all right, and they can damage progress. They can kill change before it starts.

The way I like to process things is to first take a close look, then to take a giant step back to get a view of the big picture (I may be labeling myself here). The "macro" view can be damaging when you don't see the details, it's like critiquing a painting without first pressing your nose to the canvas to see  the brushstrokes, the blending of the colors.

The broad sweeping statements, the labeling and self-critique do very little (if nothing) to inspire us to paint. Those actions don't appreciate the work. They don't require the work (the micro) to function. They can simply stand back and very neatly and quickly stifle our creativity.

I've learned this: I can't sit around wondering whether I'm the "Talent" or the guy who works with the "Talent." Or whether or not I ever really had the guitar chops I needed. Or if I work better alone or with people, or whether I'm prolific by nature or not. Or whether or not I've made a huge mistake and I should have finished that real estate course.

I can't sit around LABELING myself, because when I do that I end up LIMITING myself.The good things happen when I simply DO something. Anything. Especially the things that scare me. 

When I stop sitting around defining myself as incapable and start actively pursuing something I start achieving more. I suddenly start feeling more capable.

I'm probably not crazy. I'm guessing some of you do the, "I'm not really good at _______," thing. You should know that no matter how good you get at something (or how good other people think you are at something), doubt will always meet you there. 

Just don't shoot yourself in the foot before you start. Don't put boundaries on your talents, don't label and limit and box yourself up. Stretch out and start pretending you're capable of great things, and you'll be surprised how many great things you can accomplish.

The Secret to Success In Music

This is a post expanding on the subject matter of one I wrote in 2010, titled: "Making It" In The Music Industry."


Lately I've been getting the question. People want to know how to do it, how to make music a career. It's a misguided question, because the truth is that I lack the qualifications to answer it. I do not currently enjoy a career in the music industry. I enjoy a hobby that sometimes pays for itself, but most of the time it accrues thousands of dollars in debt. I'd hardly call that a career, but nonetheless it is the assumption of many that I am privy to knowledge beyond that of the average music hobbyist. 


I was that kid. I remember starting out and believing that nothing could stop us, that our music was this magical, momentous force that would roll perpetually onwards until it penetrated the hearts and minds of the masses. We actually believed that. With delightfully naive hubris we'd suggest to people that if they were nice to us now, we'd remember them when we hit the big time.


Then reality sunk in, and we soon realized it was hard to get shows, hard to get tours, hard to sell records, hard to draw crowds, hard to get signed, hard to pay expenses, and extremely hard to make money.


But we still believed. We believed we could convert every music listener who wasn't already indoctrinated by some hipster-driven fashion-music dogma. We believed we made music for the people. So why weren't we blowing up? We had to be missing something. So we pressed on, like the young bands still do, searching ever so desperately for the Secret to Success.


I remember being 19 and talking to Bobby Darling from Gatsbys American Dream outside of Ground Zero in Bellevue, WA. He was the most successful musician I had ever talked to, and I naively believed he had the Secret. Like he might pull me aside and lower his voice to a whisper, and he might impart some piece of wisdom; a phone number, some information that would help us get signed, rich, famous, noticed, whatever...


Perspective is everything.


I've been on both sides of that coin now, so I'll let you in on a few secrets I've learned since. These aren't really secrets, they're just common sense, but sometimes we can get so deluded that we disregard them altogether.


I want to debunk a myth your supportive parents tell you about the music industry when you're starting out. Don't get me wrong, I'm certain they love you and may even think you're God's gift to Screamo, or whatever genre, but they're wrong about this. Ready for the truth?:


IT IS NOT ABOUT WHO YOU KNOW


Parents and ill-informed managers perpetuate this lie. This is 2011, there is no big mean force standing between you and potential fans... you know all the important "WHO'S" already. Their names are Twitter, Facebook, BandCamp, iTunes, Kickstarter, and a hundred others like them who invite everyone to use their services.


Nobody is going to do you a favor, so do yourself a favor and make the best music you know how to make, that is your best shot at making it. The fairy godmother isn't going to come turn your pumpkin songs into a carriage that you can ride to the ball. You're going to have to carve that pumpkin and carry it yourself.


With social networking and the internet you can connect with fans, market your music, raise money, and distribute your songs all on your own. If you're still looking for a label and you think a label would be right for your band, here's some free advice:

DON'T TRY TO GET SIGNED


Build something that a label wants to invest in. That's all a label is, an investor... they have a million bands to pick from so why should they invest in yours? Where is yours heading? What have you built? Facebook was started by a couple guys leveraging all they had to get it going... they didn't get seed money until it was already national, serving hundreds of thousands of people. If you believe in your music, leverage everything you have and don't expect any hand outs from anyone. Sending demo's to labels is pointless, I know, because I've seen the pile at Tooth and Nail Records... it's depressing to see all those beautifully decorated packages with home-made D1 sheets go to waste. This isn't 1995, it doesn't work like that anymore. Make a name for yourself independently, because if you can't do that, you have no shot of ever getting signed.


IT IS ABOUT THE MUSIC


People ask things like, "Well if it's about the music then how come that sucky band made it big?"


Music is perhaps the most subjective topic on the planet. The truth is there are a lot of people who think that said "sucky bands" music is awesome, and someone at a label saw the earning potential of that band in a certain market, so they got that band on the radio and big tours and dumped a ton of money into that band. You and I might argue that the bands music is crap, but if there's a market for it, that means a significant amount of people like it, and if people like it, that means there's money in it. If you think a major record label went to that band and said, "Hey guys, I know you suck, but we're friends, so I'll dump a half million into you" than you're more than fooling yourself.


Music is your greatest asset.


So many ill-informed bands place too high a value on their equipment, hair/style, choreography, live show, market visibility and production quality. The Song is the magic. The Song is the thing that transcends the tangible and grips the soul. The Song is what spreads like wildfire through iPods and Facebook and at parties and on road trips. The Song is the thing you should spend 99% of your time perfecting before you ever step foot outside of your garage. 


This doesn't mean you break it down into a formula. I believe we all must have a healthy respect for the science of Song (basic principles of structure, key, melody, rhythm), but it's more important to immerse yourself in the art of songwriting. After all, a musician is an artist. Dedicate most of your time to the art. If you're diligent and you spend enough time, and your art is great, it will get noticed.


So when people ask me how to make a career in music I tell them this: Write great songs. Not good ones, great ones. Great ones spread quickly, while good ones are slow movers. If you write great songs, great things will happen. One of them is the simple economic principle of Demand. More and more fans will start turning up at shows and buying your music online. Bigger bands will want you to tour with them because you now draw a crowd. Labels will start calling you when they see how many records you're selling independently. Your need for a secret to success will be obsolete, because suddenly you have demand for your music. Not because someone hooked you up, but because your music is just THAT good!


DON'T BELIEVE THE HYPE


Let me go back again to when I was 19 and starting this band thing. We we're so full of youthful optimism and blind faith, which can be a good thing, but we made a critical error: We believed the hype. All of our family and friends loved our music, so of course we believed that it was perfect. The truth is those songs were good, not great. We had not focused enough time and effort on honing our craft, we simply followed inspiration down the rabbit hole and whatever we experienced became set in stone. This is typical of young writers. We get praise for everything we do because we are precocious, and we start to think that everything we do is great.


I think this is partially because we are so insecure. We're either inflated with ego or self-loathing, without much in-between. We're always viciously attacking or defending ourselves. A great artist says no to inspiration as much as they say yes. It's about knowing what is good and what isn't, and that often takes time and maturity. It's rare that someone can write a great song on natural talent alone, elements of greatness will be there with true natural talent, but it won't be complete. There is a certain amount of learned skill and experience required in order for the artist to say no to the cheap stuff and yes to the good stuff. A healthy sense of humility is good, and that's hard to find in the young and stubborn.


There are a lot of things that go into a successful career in music, some of which I may never understand. Is there luck? Sure. Intangibles? Yup. Often times you don't choose your band or musical background, you can't control chemistry and I don't care who you are, you NEVER have the corner on inspiration. So take all my advice with a grain of salt. Not everyone is cut out to do music full-time, and that may be the simple fact for many reading this.


With that said, I'll say that if there is one secret that is a non-secret it is this: Persistence.


Call it willpower, perseverance, determination, tenacity, resolve, whatever... we had it. The main reason we got as far as we did is because of our unwavering belief in our dream. 


By now you may realize that I don't believe in a "Secret to Success," but if there is one "non-secret" that I believe is more important than the rest, it has to be Persistence.


“Anybody who tells you to have a fall back plan are people who had a fallback plan, didn’t follow their dreams, and don’t want you to either.” - John Mayer

The Record

I've been agitated lately. Ornery. I can work myself into a frenzy doing absolutely nothing. I feel a weight on my mind, and with it comes these pangs of doubt and worry and regret. These days I can find a way to stress and wonder and plan and curse my plans through any distraction I impose upon myself. This is all of course because it is time again to write.


It is time to write a record.


Record. Thats a funny word to still use as a noun, especially since we've never done a vinyl pressing. Alas, the word "Record" is still the current industry standard for the daunting and tumultuous journey I am about to embark on. Do I sound like I'm complaining? Sorry. Like I said I've been agitated lately.


My Dad is a bit of a genius nut. He has cycles, ups and downs, much more dramatic than most people. You could probably call him slightly manic, although he'd probably deny it as he most likely remains unmedicated. Sometimes I think I may have chipped a bit off of that old crazy block. Although in most ways I'm not like my Dad at all (he hasn't an artistic blood cell in his body), I think sometimes I can act like him emotionally. Which is scary. I'd like to think of myself as emotionally adapted, an advanced communicator, a relational problem solver... but really, deep down I'm just a nut. I smiled just now when I typed that. Honesty feels good.


Maybe it has to do with stress. I feel this thing that I have to conquer is in front of me, and I feel very alone on the battlefield. It's easy to blame my band mates for lack of interest, drive, growth... talent. And maybe they can shoulder some of the blame, but the sad thing is I can't sling any of that mud without getting a significant amount of it all over myself. I'm not as driven as I could be, as talented as I should be. I feel this thing that I have to conquer is in front of me and I am not good enough to conquer it. This is new for me. Talk to me five years ago and I would have said to you in confidence, "I would love to do so many things, but I feel really limited because of the band and our current style of music." Talk to me now, I have a HUNDRED places I could steer this ship and I feel like my arms are cut off. I CANT STEER. What happened to my vision? What happened to my confidence? I suddenly have all the freedom in the world to seize what ever lies ahead and I have this terrible feeling that I'm really not good enough to see it come to fruition. Is that truth? Well, from a spiritual standpoint I am enough because He who is in me is enough. Perhaps I'm not relying on that. However, what if it is true? What if I'm a connector, someone who brings all the geniuses together in one room and milks their minds of the good ideas - and then with that milk I make a milkshake that blows minds? Maybe my mind doesn't have the best milk. This could also be true.


It's funny, one moment you're on the road in a band thinking, "Man, what we could do if these guys let me," and then you're at home going, "WHAT AM I GONNA DO WITHOUT THESE GUYS?!"


And no, our band isn't breaking up. Not just yet. See the "Seven-Year-Itch" post for the prequel to this one. Long story short things aren't like they used to be, and we can no longer afford to have five full time members in our band. Which leaves me, the one full time member, to try to find time to write with the part-timers.


So back to my crazy Dad and how I think I have genetically inherited a similar cycle. If I am not surrounded by inspired, passionate people, this is the only way I create: Self destruction, creative inspiration, complacency, self destruction, creative inspiration, complacency... you get the picture. 


To simplify: Destruction-Creation-Boredom rinse, repeat.


It is so stereotypical it makes me sick. Artists and their mini-meltdowns, their flare for the dramatic. Yuck. Not me right? I'm different right? Maybe not...


Let me tell you though, I've got big plans for this next record. I have demos and I have plans. These plans will be hard to achieve. I'm just so terrified of putting out something that I'm not 100% proud of, I want to do it right. I want the right people involved, the right vibe, for the right reasons. This is a lot of think and to pray about. We could use your prayers too, if you're the praying type of person. I need wisdom for how to move forward, faith that no matter the outcome it will be Good (with a capital G), and inspiration for the times when the thought of this work sucks all the creativity out me.


For those of you long-standing blog followers, I probably sound like a broken record. There's that word again. For those of you who are newer, you can read similar sentiments in post from a few years ago called "Tapering."

Hats

I've never been very good at public relations. I think it's because I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve, which usually means I'm not very good at smiling and taking it on the chin. Sometimes I can let my emotions get the best of me. Occasionally I'll be a brilliant actor, playing the exact role that will win fans and friends, but it's a veneer that wears off quickly, and sooner or later I'm back to my blatantly honest and sometimes disturbing self. I wear a lot of hats. I'm an artist, an entertainer, a business owner and a husband, to name a few, not to mention I profess to follow the teachings of Jesus while being all of these things. It can get difficult to know which hat to wear when, and more importantly how to change them. With every hat there are certain expectations, certain pressures and obligations that people place on you.


As an artist I'm called to remain true to my art. To seek out the best conditions in which music is inspired. Unfortunately, many of those conditions can be destructive to my role as a husband, because they often include emotional withdrawal and seclusion. The best artists, I've always felt, tend to maintain a considerable amount of pain and suffering in their lives... either that are they are true empaths who can feel and communicate the pain of others in a real way. The problem with self destructive, 'tortured artist' behavior is that it can be damaging to my faith as well as the relationships I have with other people. But aren't the best Psalms the ones of longing? Don't we relate best to the sadness that comes from distance from God? Or is that just me? These are things I struggle with. These are the "hats" I try to manage.


As a husband I'm called to be there for my wife, to be a leader in our relationship, an ear that will listen and a heart that will pray. I want to serve her, to be a solid foundation for her to be able to grow. Can I do that while withdrawing from society and isolating my heart to write more honestly? Playing the role of husband does not lend itself kindly to playing the role of artist, and it's hard to know when to switch hats. The tricky thing is that the artist hat comes whenever it wants while the husband hat is always firmly around my head. How do you balance inspiration when it's distracting you from your primary human relationship? I'm sure everyone struggles with managing different hats, these are just a few of mine.


Occasionally I will look at great artists who live depressing yet inspired lives and I want, if only for a second, what they have. But then I remember that what I have is what THEY want. I have happiness. I am blessed beyond belief. Still sometimes, somewhere deep inside me, I'll feel this nagging need to self-destruct, to ruin the beauty of what I have in order to discover the 'true inspiration' that they've discovered. Silly right? I know, it's stupid.


If you read this blog, you've probably heard me grumble about how hard it is to reconcile the artist hat with the entertainer hat. Although the two are fraternal twins when it comes to being a musician in a band, they come with very opposite obligations. The artist is a sincere, emotional thinker and the entertainer is an aerobics instructor, a facade, a projection of true inspiration. We as musicians are expected to be excellent at both. But night in and night out it can get hard to fake it, to be the entertainer, the one responsible for everyones good time. It can tend to come off trite and insincere, and that bothers me deeply. Insincerity is my biggest pet peeve. It even beats picky eaters.


As a business owner I'm responsible for the growth of my company. The Classic Crime is a brand, after all, and I need to market that brand in a fashionable and alluring way. I am terrible at this. Music will not be heard without the industry so money has to exchange hands, and there is a lot of pressure on the business owner to move units, to promote the brand and to expand. If I could take one hat off for good, it would be this one. I've never received one ounce of joy when it comes to the numbers. I hate numbers. I hate that they can tend to dictate the direction of art. I hate that they can dance around in the back of my mind when I'm compiling an album. "Will this sell?" They ask. "Is this commercially viable?" Numbers are at odds with the creation of true art. They are adverse to sincerity. Numbers are pro-industry, but in opposition to honest art.


All that said, I'll admit that I don't have an ounce of inspiration outside of God blessing me with it, and I know that. None of my music is in my control. My art is connected with God, it is spiritual, and tomorrow if the melodies and lines leave my mind for good it will be because God saw fit. I'm not a proud man in this sense, I think that anybody is capable of being ten times the artist I am if God chooses to use you. I guess I just long for those sacred moments where true music is created without bias, secular or spiritual (and yes I think God inspires songs that aren't at all about Him). It is never enough, once you feel that glow, that spark of inspiration, you're instantly hungry for more. I am not satisfied with what I've played a part in creating, and I hope I can figure out this hat issue long enough to play a role in creating much, much more.

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: 

It doesn’t matter how many people don’t get it. What matters is how many people do.