Thursday, October 7, 2010

Number 2

Okay.  Number 2, as in poopy.  I mean, that's basically what a blog is.  Random nonsense.  I write whatever I think, you read it, disagree, agree, waste time, purpose served.  It's silliness and I am not sure exactly why I started.  I think it makes me feel productive.  I think it's suppose to help me connect with an audience.  However, I am not sure that I believe either of those things.  What exactly is creative about writing random thoughts?  How is typing those thoughts and posting them on the internet connecting?  All of that is beside the point I suppose.  I'm doing it.  I'm writing, you're reading, so here we are.

I have had an equally interesting and eventful week.  It was as interesting and eventful as it wasn't.  Obviously this needs explaining.  I'll start with the good bits.  My birthday was this past Sunday.  I feel no need to tell you my age, but let's just say I have been around a few blocks more than a few times.  It was a wonderful day.  I drank.  After I drank I changed locations and drank some more.  This continued for the entire day.  Needless to say I had fun.  I challenge anyone to not have fun during a day where all you primarily do is drink.  I ate and drank and ate and drank.  I had cocktails for breakfast, beer during my phone conversations with family, cocktails in the early evening, a bottle of wine with dinner and beer and shots for desert.  It was a nice jolly day.  This is who I have turned into.  I don't completely agree with myself becoming this way, but when my job became serving people alcohol, I started to consume more.  I also garnered a healthy tolerance, so I can do things like drink all day and function.  This isn't the best way to be, but people do worse as much as they do better.  Besides, I'm not admitting to being an alcoholic, I'm saying it was my birthday and I drank a ton.   The majority of friends I have do the same, birthday or not.  I personally save the binge for special occasions.


I played a show in Atlanta this past week.  It was one of the worst formulated shows I have ever played in my 10+ years of performance.  I played in a venue that not only didn't promote our show, but in one that keep us (me and my fellow performer) hidden from any potential audience we could have had.  Question; you own a club.  You have musicians come to you're club with the intention of entertaining.  You easily have 100 to 200 folks wondering about your establishment.  What do you think you would do with the performance?  Let people know it was there?  Invite folks in?  Understanding that the acts drove 4 hours to be there, wouldn't you want to make it worth the trip?  Wouldn't you want something good to come from even bothering with that?  Or would you hide the performers in a little room and keep the doors closed so any wondering patrons would assume an employee of the bar was having a practice session?  If you answered the later, open a bar/venue in Atlanta.  Open a bar and then take road shows that you will conceal.  Seriously, this show was one of the biggest wastes of time I have ever had the pleasure to waste time on.  Nobody won on this, and there was nothing I could have done differently.

Now I have to wonder.  What comes next?  How long do I put myself out there to be ignored and abused.  The answer has always been for as long as it takes.  That was before the answer was taking too long.  It has gotten to the point where sometimes I don't even enjoy music.  I don't really listen to it as much as I use to.  It has become background, atmosphere, a silence killer.  My ears have been bombed with senseless emotionless crap that fills the airwaves.  Party music that fuels peoples soulless frenzies, music that is forgotten 6 months later.  That goes for music across the board.  Mindless rap is just as numbing as apathetic indie rock.  People are making music for dollars, but not for the sense of quality, of being timeless.  Songs that can touch this generation as much as the next aren't being pushed out there.  I have no doubt they are being written and performed, but they are rarely becoming part of the culture anymore.  Somewhere along the line having a heart became uncool, while constantly singing about getting your freak on with horrible if not completely absent metaphors became accepted and common.

What happened to us?  Who are we?  Why is music becoming candy that we shove down, forget about, shit out and get fat on?

Number 2.

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