Friday, September 17, 2010

Metal Pig

First of all, someone left me flowers at my show last night. So cool! Also, 3 women were there who I swear I've met, but I didn't realize it until they were leaving. If you're reading this, I'm so sorry I didn't say hello.

Now for the health part of this blog: I've got metal toxicity. Looks like this might be at the root of all my misery for the past 2 years. Based on my disastrous detox earlier this year which seemed to bloom an Epstein Barr viral outbreak, I'm beyond nervous about detoxing the heavy metals. What misfortunes will I have to walk through to get to the other side? I know that's a glass-half-empty mentality, but this is where I'm at today. My ears are ringing, I can't take loud noises. Even typing on this keyboard is smacking my right ear like a crashing cymbal.

But detoxing is definitely what comes next, 'cause I can't feel like crap forever. 


I'm making good on my Chinese astrological element: metal. Wish me good fortune, friends. Over and out.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

The brilliance of smallness

For all my ranting about technology and what it does to human interaction, I gotta say I've discovered Netflix streaming movies on an ipod are about as close as it gets to reading a book. Since discovering this feature last Friday, I've watched 4, count 'em, 4 movies. It's a great way to keep me on the couch. The drawback is that it wrecks my vision. So, easy does it.


I've done absolutely zero songwriting in the last few weeks. Not even attempts. I had two performances which messed up my jaw pretty good. Something about the way I sit, sing and play really doesn't work from a physical standpoint. Gotta solve that one. Anyhow, here's the deal: there are some incredibly talented people out there that don't do music full time. Martha Jane is one of them.


In the DIY music community a conversation rages about the future of the industry. This has been going on for as long as I've been out there as a singer-songwriter. It's all about the role of technology and labels and stuff and everyone has an interesting and equally valid perspective.


The DIY culture really honors the entrepreneurial artist. It honors the extravert. I believe most artist are entrepreneurs, by the structure of how it works, but I also believe there are artists who have brilliance and are not entrepreneurs. They simply are good at the artist part. And that's where partnership comes it. These folks have a gift and if we're lucky enough to experience it that is in itself enough. There is greatness in smallness and not everyone who is a talented singer or songwriter needs to enter the music biz fray. There is no cultural or personal obligation. I didn't use to think that, but now I do.


The the industry is morphing and I have to agree with some folks who say we've traded quality for quantity. At some level, I think that's true, and I believe there is a deep and sacred part of our culture that's going underground because of this. That's where is makes a lot of sense to have artists partner with entrepreneurs. Like that song from the 80s, "You've got the braun, I've got the brain. Let's make lots of money." I don't mean a partnership quite like that, but some kind of pairing of gifts equals more than the sum of it's parts.


Pittsburgh, by my experience of 15 years, has almost zero support structure for DIY musicians. There's no industry here to speak of, and I think there could be. I think the culture-at-large would benefit from entrepreneurs cultivating true talent. The folks who are truly talented and charismatic are gonna be fine on their own, and I will enjoy them as much as anyone, and smile for their tremendous accomplishments. Perhaps this is the reality of the future of music and maybe I should just jump on that bandwagon without reservation.


But I have reservations, and I have to articulate them. There are gems who are quietly brilliant, who are music incarnate, and who make songwriting and singing look effortless. I'm an incredibly judgmental person when it comes to art, and these folks relax my mind and put me in my heart and I can experience music the way it's intended. In fact, I can experience humanity the way it's intended. You know these people when you see them and hear them. It's an undeniable thing, and it's not always in your face and obvious. This is the paradox, and this is our discovery to make.


Anyhow, I think lots of DIY artists end up saying you gotta embrace the new world or get out. Stop complaining because reality won't wait for you. Stuff like that. 


There's a missing piece in a statement like that, and I can't quite figure out what it is. I think it has something do with partnership and discovery and the brilliance of smallness, but I'm not sure. I do know I felt lucky to hear Martha Jane. I also know that I don't think she is required to do any more than what she's doing now. Somehow it's more our job to find the gems or something.


I guess this is an entry in my blog where I open it up to feedback. What do you think?