WORK and jobs
So, I had a great week. I got to spend a whole week sort of pretending that being a producer was my job. It was really fun. A couple of girls I know each needed two-song demos by yesterday at 4pm, and the way things went, I couldn't start until Monday morning. So it was quite a rush to get things finished. I easily worked 40 hours, maybe more. The last few days were around 10 hours a piece. Getting up for the first session at 9am, working straight through tracking overdubs, editing takes, actually playing some bass parts. It was exhausting and the most satisfying thing I can remember doing. It was a little taste of what other people must get when they get their first job in the field they got a degree in, and it turns out they like it.
And beyond the time, it turns out I am really good at what I am doing. Don't be confused, I am not saying that I am on a level that I am not on. I don't deserve to be making much more than I currently am, but I have all of the necessary roots of knowledge to build on, and I am learning a lot at each try. I am finding that a Producer is really the servant of everyone else involved, even though the players and engineers submit their work to me for approval, I am responsible for providing everything they need so they can give their best performance, and of course I am a servant of the paying artist, I think most of all (when the artist allows) I am the servant of the song. I love this new revelation, and I am good at that part too...well good at the attitude, not always good about delivering things in a timely, organized fashion, but I am learning about that in big lessons.
If I had a really good song, a really good singer, really good players, a really good engineer, and a really good studio to work in, I could totally produce a hit...which of course is sort of the secret to being a good producer =).
The bad news is, I worked for 40 hours, and I made about $400 for the week. Which is a great start, but the work comes in erratically, and it's not always so much, and, well...I need money. I am just not keeping my head above water. In the same great week I got a call from some creditors, and a notice from the bank about being overdrawn.
The time has come for me to get a job. It may not sound like a big deal, but it is a bitter bitter admission. I realized yesterday that right before I graduated, I made a goal of making it six months without getting a job-until the student loans became due, and I have met that goal. With a little help from friends and credit cards, I have succeeded in not getting a job, but along with not really making quite enough, my loans add at least $500 to my monthly bills starting in November, so the time has come. I haven't caught a big break, and now I have to start paying.
You might say to yourself "This is not my beautiful house!!"...no no wait, you might say to yourself "What's the big deal Caleb, is it really going to make it so much harder for you to play gigs and what-not if you have a job?" Practically, the answer is "no". There are very few gigs that I have done in the last six months which I couldn't have done if I had a job, as long as I am willing to work late, and get up and work again early, which has not been true historically, but will be now! I have lots of friends who have played those gigs with me who have day jobs.
The real issue is that I am, at least symbolically, giving up my dream, and it always starts symbolically. Do you know how many people I have met on this journey, who either, a. gave up to get some steady income, or b. were never going to make it the first place? Ask any guitar hero in your town if he ever tried to make it big, and if so, why didn't it work, and if not, why? The answers are almost always the same. At some point, they decided it was too hard (or too "political", which means they have some kind of unpleasant personality trait, trust me, it's true), and they started looking for other kinds of jobs.
The last job I worked before heading to Nashville was building in-ground pools in Florida. We built this pool in Palm Bay for this really band-director-looking guy, who was really nice-gave us drinks and what-not. He found out I was heading to music school, and he was so excited for me. Turns out he has a Performance degree in classical Saxophone. He went inside for a while, and finally dug up his senior project from 30 years ago: an originally composed saxophone concerto, clearly a very complicated modern work, written in painstakingly good calligraphy. This guy must have spent days just writing out the fair copy, it was a beautiful record of his musical studies. It was also his only record of his musical studies. He never used his degree, ever. He got some other kind of job, and he had no idea how long it had been since he had picked up a saxophone. "What the hell is wrong with that kind of person," I asked myself?
I have a dozen stories that end that way. Even this morning, I played in a little jazz quartet at Belmont to welcome in prospective students. One of the school of music administrators I used to know asked me how it was going. "I think I need to get a job," I said. He proceeded to tell me what I am sure he thought was a quaint story of how his son ended up not working in music, but it was a crushing thing for me to hear-how his son's band, while successful in college, ended up slowly breaking up as one or two guys had to get jobs. Not encouraging.
And, of course, I have always been afraid that I was a part of the other group-the group who never even had a chance at success, and I am even still not sure that I am not in that group. Say what you will here friends-the sad truth is that I can't think of anyone who reads this who is truly qualified to tell me that I am "really that good" (mmmmmmmaybe Chris, he's getting there). I know what I printed at the top of this post, and I still believe in it for now, but it doesn't sway all doubts. Even a casual observer recently agreed that I don't carry myself like someone who "you can tell is a good player."
"it's a confidence issue Caleb," some of you have said often, and I agree, but here is the caveat: having low confidence doesn't mean that I am a good player who just doesn't believe in myself enough, it means that having low confidence keeps me from being a good player. That is a very distinct difference.
So anyway, I am not giving up on anything. In the end I still think it's the people who hang on the longest who make it-although right now I don't want to "make it" into being the regional musical director for a bunch of churches and community theaters, I want it big. And I am learning to do a little less whining and a little more working on my weaknesses, but in the meantime I have to get a job...
and that's a bitter bitter admission...
And beyond the time, it turns out I am really good at what I am doing. Don't be confused, I am not saying that I am on a level that I am not on. I don't deserve to be making much more than I currently am, but I have all of the necessary roots of knowledge to build on, and I am learning a lot at each try. I am finding that a Producer is really the servant of everyone else involved, even though the players and engineers submit their work to me for approval, I am responsible for providing everything they need so they can give their best performance, and of course I am a servant of the paying artist, I think most of all (when the artist allows) I am the servant of the song. I love this new revelation, and I am good at that part too...well good at the attitude, not always good about delivering things in a timely, organized fashion, but I am learning about that in big lessons.
If I had a really good song, a really good singer, really good players, a really good engineer, and a really good studio to work in, I could totally produce a hit...which of course is sort of the secret to being a good producer =).
The bad news is, I worked for 40 hours, and I made about $400 for the week. Which is a great start, but the work comes in erratically, and it's not always so much, and, well...I need money. I am just not keeping my head above water. In the same great week I got a call from some creditors, and a notice from the bank about being overdrawn.
The time has come for me to get a job. It may not sound like a big deal, but it is a bitter bitter admission. I realized yesterday that right before I graduated, I made a goal of making it six months without getting a job-until the student loans became due, and I have met that goal. With a little help from friends and credit cards, I have succeeded in not getting a job, but along with not really making quite enough, my loans add at least $500 to my monthly bills starting in November, so the time has come. I haven't caught a big break, and now I have to start paying.
You might say to yourself "This is not my beautiful house!!"...no no wait, you might say to yourself "What's the big deal Caleb, is it really going to make it so much harder for you to play gigs and what-not if you have a job?" Practically, the answer is "no". There are very few gigs that I have done in the last six months which I couldn't have done if I had a job, as long as I am willing to work late, and get up and work again early, which has not been true historically, but will be now! I have lots of friends who have played those gigs with me who have day jobs.
The real issue is that I am, at least symbolically, giving up my dream, and it always starts symbolically. Do you know how many people I have met on this journey, who either, a. gave up to get some steady income, or b. were never going to make it the first place? Ask any guitar hero in your town if he ever tried to make it big, and if so, why didn't it work, and if not, why? The answers are almost always the same. At some point, they decided it was too hard (or too "political", which means they have some kind of unpleasant personality trait, trust me, it's true), and they started looking for other kinds of jobs.
The last job I worked before heading to Nashville was building in-ground pools in Florida. We built this pool in Palm Bay for this really band-director-looking guy, who was really nice-gave us drinks and what-not. He found out I was heading to music school, and he was so excited for me. Turns out he has a Performance degree in classical Saxophone. He went inside for a while, and finally dug up his senior project from 30 years ago: an originally composed saxophone concerto, clearly a very complicated modern work, written in painstakingly good calligraphy. This guy must have spent days just writing out the fair copy, it was a beautiful record of his musical studies. It was also his only record of his musical studies. He never used his degree, ever. He got some other kind of job, and he had no idea how long it had been since he had picked up a saxophone. "What the hell is wrong with that kind of person," I asked myself?
I have a dozen stories that end that way. Even this morning, I played in a little jazz quartet at Belmont to welcome in prospective students. One of the school of music administrators I used to know asked me how it was going. "I think I need to get a job," I said. He proceeded to tell me what I am sure he thought was a quaint story of how his son ended up not working in music, but it was a crushing thing for me to hear-how his son's band, while successful in college, ended up slowly breaking up as one or two guys had to get jobs. Not encouraging.
And, of course, I have always been afraid that I was a part of the other group-the group who never even had a chance at success, and I am even still not sure that I am not in that group. Say what you will here friends-the sad truth is that I can't think of anyone who reads this who is truly qualified to tell me that I am "really that good" (mmmmmmmaybe Chris, he's getting there). I know what I printed at the top of this post, and I still believe in it for now, but it doesn't sway all doubts. Even a casual observer recently agreed that I don't carry myself like someone who "you can tell is a good player."
"it's a confidence issue Caleb," some of you have said often, and I agree, but here is the caveat: having low confidence doesn't mean that I am a good player who just doesn't believe in myself enough, it means that having low confidence keeps me from being a good player. That is a very distinct difference.
So anyway, I am not giving up on anything. In the end I still think it's the people who hang on the longest who make it-although right now I don't want to "make it" into being the regional musical director for a bunch of churches and community theaters, I want it big. And I am learning to do a little less whining and a little more working on my weaknesses, but in the meantime I have to get a job...
and that's a bitter bitter admission...