musician venting
first, let me say that music for me and my choice* to become a musician was never and will never be about money. I compose and perform music because there is something that drives me to do it. I don't knwo what it is, perhaps the muses, perhaps my own conscience, but whatever it is it's got nothign to do with money. I'd also like to note that I'm not a jealous, angry or spiteful person. However, I feel these things just like everybody else. They are a part of me whether I like it or not; I just choose to not let them dominate me. They're like misbehaving children.
What does one do to misbehaving children? ignore them and stuff them in a dark closet? That's how you turn children into monsters. You embrace them, pay attention to them, and learn how to not let them control you. I'm puzzled by this angry resentment I feel, and I've got to explore it, hopefully with some input outside of my head to help me keep a frame of reference. What better place for angry, spiteful venting than livejournal?
I just came back from the open mic at club 4th and main. I've gone there off and on, I've got the distinct feeling that the owner pretends to like me, because he's doing his midlife crisis type thing and also plays guitar. I won't get into that psychology. Regardless, first guy up thought I recognized from when I very first started busking.Then he played a tune I played lead for him on out in front of the dorm. I remembered it. I remember how when I met him he was about to play his first gig that very weekend. My first real show was a couple weeks after that, if I recall. We'd talked about that for a while back in the day... I just suddenly remembered it.
He's getting $300 a show now, various places around the region. That's a cool $2400 a month. And that's not counting the little gigs during the week. This guy's probably making close to $3000 a month.
And here I am, working a dirty smelly job from 7:00 AM till 3:30 PM, scraping up the energy to make some money by playing out in the street... We've lived here almost a month now, and I still don't have my own bed to sleep in. I still can't get my phone turned back on. I've got parts of my car about to go which I can't afford to replace, but I can't afford to replace the car, so... yeah, still no bed, still no phone.
This guy is playing predominantly cover tunes. I've heard one original piece out of him that frankly isn't that originall. Yet he packs bars to the point of breaking fire code. Brings huge crowds, gets paid well for it... I remember the release party formy first CD. I'd printed up fliers, little ones that took a quarter of a page, so I could cut them out and save paper. I literally handed out over 200 of those while I was playing on the street corner. All these people said they really dug what I was doing, but only two showed up at the show. Two.
So, what's this guy's secret? What the hell am I doing wrong that I'm getting absolutely nowhere, and this happy go lucky dude is pulling 3000 a month from freakin' bar gigs! I can't even land a bloody gig. Makes me angry... makes me hurt inside. Bery discouraging
well I need to be up for work in four hours, oso I'll talk to you all later
much love,
Ben
What does one do to misbehaving children? ignore them and stuff them in a dark closet? That's how you turn children into monsters. You embrace them, pay attention to them, and learn how to not let them control you. I'm puzzled by this angry resentment I feel, and I've got to explore it, hopefully with some input outside of my head to help me keep a frame of reference. What better place for angry, spiteful venting than livejournal?
I just came back from the open mic at club 4th and main. I've gone there off and on, I've got the distinct feeling that the owner pretends to like me, because he's doing his midlife crisis type thing and also plays guitar. I won't get into that psychology. Regardless, first guy up thought I recognized from when I very first started busking.Then he played a tune I played lead for him on out in front of the dorm. I remembered it. I remember how when I met him he was about to play his first gig that very weekend. My first real show was a couple weeks after that, if I recall. We'd talked about that for a while back in the day... I just suddenly remembered it.
He's getting $300 a show now, various places around the region. That's a cool $2400 a month. And that's not counting the little gigs during the week. This guy's probably making close to $3000 a month.
And here I am, working a dirty smelly job from 7:00 AM till 3:30 PM, scraping up the energy to make some money by playing out in the street... We've lived here almost a month now, and I still don't have my own bed to sleep in. I still can't get my phone turned back on. I've got parts of my car about to go which I can't afford to replace, but I can't afford to replace the car, so... yeah, still no bed, still no phone.
This guy is playing predominantly cover tunes. I've heard one original piece out of him that frankly isn't that originall. Yet he packs bars to the point of breaking fire code. Brings huge crowds, gets paid well for it... I remember the release party formy first CD. I'd printed up fliers, little ones that took a quarter of a page, so I could cut them out and save paper. I literally handed out over 200 of those while I was playing on the street corner. All these people said they really dug what I was doing, but only two showed up at the show. Two.
So, what's this guy's secret? What the hell am I doing wrong that I'm getting absolutely nowhere, and this happy go lucky dude is pulling 3000 a month from freakin' bar gigs! I can't even land a bloody gig. Makes me angry... makes me hurt inside. Bery discouraging
well I need to be up for work in four hours, oso I'll talk to you all later
much love,
Ben