Journal of the Day
I’m going to organize my desk tomorrow.
Right now, I’m going to organize my music library.
I’m listening to various random tracks and downloading various MP3s.
Oh, before I forget, I have to mention that I want to learn to play Ava Maria on the banjo. And “Unchained Melody” while I’m at it. Gotta get me a banjo and learn how to play it first, though. Hey, that would make a good expletive - “Ava Maria! ” As in - “Ava Maria! I hate this banjo!”
In the midst of all this listening to and downloading of MP3s, I am also organizing my music library, writing this journal entry, and doing some multi-tasking as well.
While listening to some various live concert recordings, I have become maddeningly aware of a disturbing, yet commonly understood and perpetuated, fact regarding rock stars. And the fact is as follows: Rock stars, or music stars in general, are one of the only examples of a service/product provider who receives such extraordinarily open praise and devotion. Music stars are literally worshipped by their fans. I’ve done it myself without ever thinking about it this much. I’m almost ashamed, but hey, I wasn’t the only one in the crowd.
When you are fully participating in this form of spontaneous mass worship, it takes a great deal of skill and determination to be aware of it. The screaming. The yelling. The whistling. The clapping. The incoherent bellowing. The unnecessary and inappropriate moshing of profoundly unintelligent kids. The shock of receiving a kick to the back of the head by the shoe of some idiotic crowd-surfer. The infuriation of the sudden headache resulting from the idiotic crowd-surfer’s shoe. The supreme satisfaction of watching the idiotic crowd-surfer flailing frantically while falling head-first to the floor as I step back to avoid aiding his desperate attempts to surf over me. The feverish demand for flawlessly performed music. It’s pretty overwhelming. It’s practically divine.
But, while recently listening to some recordings of live performances, it was much easier to remain an objective observer. And, I think I have discovered an interesting concept that contrasts my basic view of the band/fan relationship. If you look at it from a different angle, the band is not worshipped; the band is essentially enslaved. But, I’m sure professional musicians realize this already.
Suppose a group of musicians have found a groove with each other and they are now a band. They get a good following of fans that all have their very own copies of the band’s demo CD and attend every show (at least the local shows, if it’s not too late, and if they don’t have to pay a cover to get in). So now, through consistent, real-world practice, the band is getting better at playing live, getting more fans, getting more venues, getting more tip jars to see if that will help get more tips, getting free drugs for the first time in their lives, getting STD’s, and getting tired playing the same six songs all the time. So, they write a new song.
This is the first song they have written since becoming a band, practicing, and performing together. In other words, this song is actually good. They try it out at a live show. The crowd digs it. They end up getting signed with a manager who says their new song is going to be a hit. It’s on the radio in two weeks and sure enough, it’s a hit. Now they’re playing bigger venues for much larger audiences. Almost none of these new fans have their own copy of the band’s demo CD. As a matter of fact, almost none of these fans are fans of the band at all. They are doubtful spectators ready and eager to be severely disappointed by the show for which they paid entirely too much money to see. But, on the bright side, some of the members of the audience have heard the band’s hit song on the radio a few times (so yay!). Despite all this pessimism, the crowd is still ready to pretend to be fans - just to play the part. (And it better be good, or else…).
Playing their own respective part, the band pretends to be confident and starts to play. The crowd goes nuts, and by the end of the show, the band has a lot more fans. Fans who buy albums, fans who download mp3s for 99 cents, and fans who download mp3s for free. Having fans means having people (total strangers) who have relentlessly high expectations of you. They want their serving of entertainment, they want you to serve it to them, and they command you to serve it to their specified standards of approval. Period.
Now the band begins a tour. At this point, they’ve hit it big. Rock stars they are. What happens next is a paradox of sorts. You figure it out and later I’ll explain it. ß----- Get it?
So, you may look at the band as the god, and the fans as the disciples who worship the band. But look again. The band may have a sense of prestige, and the fans may possess a sense of obedient loyalty. But, as I have previously mentioned, look again:
Talk about unfair. How do four musically-inclined guys survive the incessant demands of a monstrous crowd of hundreds? It seems a tad bit uncalled for, in my opinion. I mean, here you have this very large and unruly crowd (the audience) shouting at the top of their lungs toward the substantially smaller, way outnumbered group (the band) in the middle. Not only is the menacingly large crowd shouting incoherently adamant-sounding demands of some sort, but the bizarre individuals of the crowd are also spastically slapping their hands together in an imperfect rhythm of purely convulsive chaos. And for some ungodly reason, like a bunch of terribly upset lunatics off their meds on Easter, they howl in a high octave for drastically varying durations. Then the small, defenseless group resorts to using brains instead of brawn to conquer the wrath of the crowd. They boldly start singing a song to the big, unruly crowd. Instead of calming down, however, the crowd only grows louder and frantically restless, wiggling and hopping. But, before long, they fall into some kind of tonic trance, wiggling and bouncing to the energy of the song. The crowd is mostly silent now. Now it’s the small group’s turn to be loud and be heard. They are like a snake charmer (on a grander scale. And with guitars and drums instead of a flute). The vibratory power, the harmony, of the small group of four has now grown strong enough to arrest the will of the whole entire crowd surrounding them. But this will not last. Unbelievably, the very instant the small group stops singing their song for the crowd, the crowd starts making a ruckus again. It starts out slowly. But I’ll make it quick.
The band starts to slow the pace and intensity of the music to bring their song to an end and perhaps rest a moment - maybe take a drink of water. Alas, a few keen observers amongst the crowd take notice and slowly begin slapping their hands together again. It is apparent to me that this gesture of mild violence is meant to convey a nonverbal threat to the band (as in, “stop playing and we’re gonna slap ya.”). Basically, these vigilant crowd members are sensing that the band is attempting to abandon their duty of musical servitude. In general, audience members are gluttonous leaches starving for some sick beats; and when they latch on, they will suck you dry…
Okay, I admit, I got a little off track there. I could just edit it out, and nobody would ever know. But I like it so I’m gonna keep it like it is. And that’s how it will be. Now back to the story…
Quickly, the anxious rage and desperate fury of impending melodic famine spreads through the crowd like a swarm of locusts in a wildfire (or something). So, the band plays on, for their own well-being. The crowd’s collective uproar fades back to a state of unstable peace.
The audience reminds me of an ant hill. Even when the colony is in a state of total peace (as far as one could tell), the ants are all jittery and busy (like they’ve had too much coffee. Or just enough crack). The ants also appear all agitated. For no apparent reason. But, No APPARENT Reason doesn’t mean NO Reason. Maybe they’re agitated that they always have to be doing something when they might rather be kicking back in a recliner watching Dr. Phil while doing a crossword puzzle. I don’t know. I am not a scientist. But I am a person who has been watching ants very recently, and this is what I observed.
First off, ants are always busy going somewhere. It’s ludicrous to watch the ants that are on the mound go everywhere on the mound for no purpose. Are they doing business in that colony? Why not? Maybe they’re all making deals with each other. That’s what they do. That’s why they hunt. Resources. Something of value to trade. The fact is, they seem agitated no matter what. When you do something to agitate them, they come completely unglued. And if you shoot their mound with a shotgun (which I did very recently; and yes, it was awesome), they become homeless ants. I will explain:
I was on a ranch with a shotgun. I aimed the shotgun at this huge ant mound. I pulled the trigger and got a rush of mischievous joy as the mound burst into a black powdery cloud of dust and an array of very frightened airborne ants. If you have never shot an ant mound with a shotgun, you have no idea.
I’m going to organize my desk tomorrow.