Apr 28, 2002 09:40
When people ask me what I do for a living and I say "I'm a singer/songwriter", this question usually follows. "Do you have a real job?"
This makes me more upset than you can imagine. My friends, most of them get it. There are the few who still remind me, at every opportunity they get, that I can't keep on living the life of a musician because it's "not real".
People see it this way. I don't have to attend school. I can stay at home all day if need be. I don't have any obligations to anyone else. The life of a slacker. And not even a glorified one.
This is what really happens. I've spent 22 years refining my craft so far. I didn't go into music while at university (I hold degrees in two other facets of knowledge), but many others spend 6+ years learning the industry, the technical works, the theory and the application of music. I don't sit at home, I'm very rarely at home while working on music, and it's not an 8 hour day. It's a 24 hour day. I will sit and labour over a piano for 12 hour stretches, wanting desperately to do something else but knowing that if the creative flow is there I have to finish it. I'm also working on the time of other people, so I may meet with eight other people all in one day who are NEVER available to work at the same time. And I do have obligations, both to myself and to the other musicians who work with me. I have deadlines. I have expectations. And most of all, I have the pressure that I will be judged, and I will be criticized, and I will be put on trial for the things that I create. My profession requires a complete immersion of self into the creative process. In no other profession on the planet, is that required. You see my heart, my life, my fears, my insecurities, among various other deeply personal emotions and fallibilities. I am always the exact same person I introduce to a crowd. Failing means a blow to pride, to ego, and most of all, to the people who stood beside you for a very long time. It's an industry that pays well if you are in the tiny category of musicians who have muddled/driven/cheated/slept their way to the top of the sales charts. The rest of us do it because we love the craft. We are dedicated, knowing that the rewards are not monetary, but deeply spiritual. And we never retire. From the day we are born, to the day we die, we are musicians. And we are always perfecting our craft.
Which makes my "job" more real than you could ever imagine.