Bob Dylan & my take on the music scene
So I've been reading this great autobiography of Bob Dylan. I think it's just called Chronicles (volume 1) and it's amazing! I've never been a huge bob Dylan fan, there are a few songs I like but I never really got into him. This book is making me want to listen to all his albums.
At first it was really hard to get into, but after awhile it just started to flow all of a sudden, and now I'm really into it. He talks about his fall from grace and how he hated being seen as a political spokesman, especially considering he felt that he didn't really know anything about politics.
He talks about how he never really paid that much attention to the outside world, but formed his own opinions. I guess I feel some sort of affinity with him because I do exactly the same thing.
He also talks briefly about the Weathermen, an activist group who split from the SDS (students for a democratic society) during the Vietnam War who made homemade bombs in their basements to blow up public buildings in protest. Anyhow, they changed their name to The Weather Underground around the time Bob Dylan was trying to make himself into anything but a political leader. Perhaps they changed their name in protest to him not wanting to be on their pedestal. There is an excellent documentary on the weather underground that came out about 2 years ago. Perhaps one of the best doco's I've ever seen. You really almost take their side from the get go, because politically and idealistically they were perfect. They never actually killed anyone that wasn't a member of their own group (homemade bomb malfunction) but they blew up a hell of a lot of stuff while they were active. Anyhow - tangent.
He also talks about song-writers block, being disillusioned and the insubstantial thing that makes a song a great song, and a performer a great performer. I wish he'd say exactly what it was though! Hopefully one day I'll find it. And that the phrase "either you have it or you don't" isn't true.
The other part that has really interested me is in playing styles and the mathematics of melody. Something about playing an odd numbered rather than an even numbered melody, and how you form melodies out of triplets. And from the book "because you're thinking in odd numbers rather than even numbers, you're playing with a different value system." he then goes on to talk about how popular music is done with a base of 2, but if you use a base of 3 then you can move into pentatonic scales, diatonic scales (8) and so on, and that there is then an infinite number of melodies that can be drawn from it as long as you follow the correct sequence, (which can be pretty much anything - because these scales flow into each key change effortlessly).
So while I found it quite difficult to follow since I'm absolutely dreadful at guitar theory, it was really amazing because it just jumps off the page at you. You can feel his renewed sense of energy after years of considering quitting the music biz altogether.
The best thing I suppose about this book (which I haven't yet finished reading) is that you get a sense of who he was as a person. He talks about his family, and his friends, and his tours, but not in a stupid show off way. He's really down to earth and personable.
Anyhow, I guess I just really wanted to write about it so I don't ever forget how inspiring this book is. It makes you take a look around at your peers in the music scene and wonder "are they going to make it? Will they still be doing this in 10 years?"
I have a feeling that the music scene may have been more welcoming to newcomers back in Bob Dylan's day. It was all encompassing and it didn't matter if you were unheard of, or if you were really famous, they all seemed to know each other and have some form of respect, as long as there was talent there.
These days I suppose there is still respect for talent, but musicians tend to lean towards being suspicious people and their arrogance leads them to being standoffish towards any newcomers on the scene. I experienced this a few years ago, when I was far more open to criticism than I am now. Even though I'm still basically unheard of, I've toughened up and now also carry the "you can't touch me" attitude. And it's kind of sad that what once used to be such an artistic community to be involved in, can now have become so much cloak and dagger. Because that's now really what it is. People will say bad things about your music just because you happen to be playing the same night and they want punters to go to their show. Most of the time it has nothing to do with your integrity as a musician and has no correlation to how bad or good you are. Of course people will also slander you if they think you're good, because once word gets around enough, no A&R person will look past the word of mouth and you're screwed.
At the same time though, cliques have formed within the music community and there isn't really a crossover between the levels of well, let's face it, fame. If no one's heard of you, you're first level, you aren't jaded enough yet. Usually you're talented, but the mid-level kids don't want to know you. You have to play shit shows for at least a year before someone throws you a bone.
Mid-level muso's are jaded, are beginning to realise they'll probably never make money doing what they're doing and either quit and get "real jobs", keep playing and are bitter about it, or if they're still decent humans and haven't been scarred by their failures, will continue to play just for fun. This sub group within the mid-level are usually really nice people and are nearly always the bone throwers to the first level.
Then you have the success level, for want of a better name. These are bands that have made it, can live off their music, and tour the world whenever they want. Lucky bastards! They usually work their arses off. If they haven't let arrogance and self love overwhelm them, they're great people to be around. They can recognise how lucky they are and are the majority of the time very patient towards fans, and friendly down to earth people.
So where is the crossover? There usually isn't one. Mid-level bands occasionally get a support with a success level band, but it's pretty rare. Usually the good support goes to the "just joined the success level" band. First level bands needn't bother trying to get the support in the first place.
I have a feeling that the nice success level bands were really the first level bands that threw themselves at the music scene and worked hard at it, and wrote great songs, and had that little bit of luck, and got someone interested in them before they got too jaded. Then they got to skip being mid-level so retained some sense of why they started playing in the first place. To make some music, because that's what you love doing.
The music scene is in a way like the diagram of a capitalist society. It’s kind of scary, everywhere you look, pyramids crop up, and always there's some crazy bastard standing at the top of the pyramid shouting "I own you! Don't ever forget it!"
Anyhow, none of that probably makes sense, but Bob got me thinking about it. It’d be nice if music wasn't treated so much as a business, and as more of an expression, that's all.
Plus that filled in a good hour of my work time, so now I only have one more hour till I can go home, have a glass or 2 of red, and hopefully a good night's sleep! Tomorrow I'm 6 days in to my 7 day shift, so the finishing line will be in sight (about time).
At first it was really hard to get into, but after awhile it just started to flow all of a sudden, and now I'm really into it. He talks about his fall from grace and how he hated being seen as a political spokesman, especially considering he felt that he didn't really know anything about politics.
He talks about how he never really paid that much attention to the outside world, but formed his own opinions. I guess I feel some sort of affinity with him because I do exactly the same thing.
He also talks briefly about the Weathermen, an activist group who split from the SDS (students for a democratic society) during the Vietnam War who made homemade bombs in their basements to blow up public buildings in protest. Anyhow, they changed their name to The Weather Underground around the time Bob Dylan was trying to make himself into anything but a political leader. Perhaps they changed their name in protest to him not wanting to be on their pedestal. There is an excellent documentary on the weather underground that came out about 2 years ago. Perhaps one of the best doco's I've ever seen. You really almost take their side from the get go, because politically and idealistically they were perfect. They never actually killed anyone that wasn't a member of their own group (homemade bomb malfunction) but they blew up a hell of a lot of stuff while they were active. Anyhow - tangent.
He also talks about song-writers block, being disillusioned and the insubstantial thing that makes a song a great song, and a performer a great performer. I wish he'd say exactly what it was though! Hopefully one day I'll find it. And that the phrase "either you have it or you don't" isn't true.
The other part that has really interested me is in playing styles and the mathematics of melody. Something about playing an odd numbered rather than an even numbered melody, and how you form melodies out of triplets. And from the book "because you're thinking in odd numbers rather than even numbers, you're playing with a different value system." he then goes on to talk about how popular music is done with a base of 2, but if you use a base of 3 then you can move into pentatonic scales, diatonic scales (8) and so on, and that there is then an infinite number of melodies that can be drawn from it as long as you follow the correct sequence, (which can be pretty much anything - because these scales flow into each key change effortlessly).
So while I found it quite difficult to follow since I'm absolutely dreadful at guitar theory, it was really amazing because it just jumps off the page at you. You can feel his renewed sense of energy after years of considering quitting the music biz altogether.
The best thing I suppose about this book (which I haven't yet finished reading) is that you get a sense of who he was as a person. He talks about his family, and his friends, and his tours, but not in a stupid show off way. He's really down to earth and personable.
Anyhow, I guess I just really wanted to write about it so I don't ever forget how inspiring this book is. It makes you take a look around at your peers in the music scene and wonder "are they going to make it? Will they still be doing this in 10 years?"
I have a feeling that the music scene may have been more welcoming to newcomers back in Bob Dylan's day. It was all encompassing and it didn't matter if you were unheard of, or if you were really famous, they all seemed to know each other and have some form of respect, as long as there was talent there.
These days I suppose there is still respect for talent, but musicians tend to lean towards being suspicious people and their arrogance leads them to being standoffish towards any newcomers on the scene. I experienced this a few years ago, when I was far more open to criticism than I am now. Even though I'm still basically unheard of, I've toughened up and now also carry the "you can't touch me" attitude. And it's kind of sad that what once used to be such an artistic community to be involved in, can now have become so much cloak and dagger. Because that's now really what it is. People will say bad things about your music just because you happen to be playing the same night and they want punters to go to their show. Most of the time it has nothing to do with your integrity as a musician and has no correlation to how bad or good you are. Of course people will also slander you if they think you're good, because once word gets around enough, no A&R person will look past the word of mouth and you're screwed.
At the same time though, cliques have formed within the music community and there isn't really a crossover between the levels of well, let's face it, fame. If no one's heard of you, you're first level, you aren't jaded enough yet. Usually you're talented, but the mid-level kids don't want to know you. You have to play shit shows for at least a year before someone throws you a bone.
Mid-level muso's are jaded, are beginning to realise they'll probably never make money doing what they're doing and either quit and get "real jobs", keep playing and are bitter about it, or if they're still decent humans and haven't been scarred by their failures, will continue to play just for fun. This sub group within the mid-level are usually really nice people and are nearly always the bone throwers to the first level.
Then you have the success level, for want of a better name. These are bands that have made it, can live off their music, and tour the world whenever they want. Lucky bastards! They usually work their arses off. If they haven't let arrogance and self love overwhelm them, they're great people to be around. They can recognise how lucky they are and are the majority of the time very patient towards fans, and friendly down to earth people.
So where is the crossover? There usually isn't one. Mid-level bands occasionally get a support with a success level band, but it's pretty rare. Usually the good support goes to the "just joined the success level" band. First level bands needn't bother trying to get the support in the first place.
I have a feeling that the nice success level bands were really the first level bands that threw themselves at the music scene and worked hard at it, and wrote great songs, and had that little bit of luck, and got someone interested in them before they got too jaded. Then they got to skip being mid-level so retained some sense of why they started playing in the first place. To make some music, because that's what you love doing.
The music scene is in a way like the diagram of a capitalist society. It’s kind of scary, everywhere you look, pyramids crop up, and always there's some crazy bastard standing at the top of the pyramid shouting "I own you! Don't ever forget it!"
Anyhow, none of that probably makes sense, but Bob got me thinking about it. It’d be nice if music wasn't treated so much as a business, and as more of an expression, that's all.
Plus that filled in a good hour of my work time, so now I only have one more hour till I can go home, have a glass or 2 of red, and hopefully a good night's sleep! Tomorrow I'm 6 days in to my 7 day shift, so the finishing line will be in sight (about time).