News from the Universe
Apr. 4th, 2003 12:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
talktoolooseI keep receiving the same message over and over again in different forms.
The latest round of cosmic messaging started when I read the The Musician's Guide to Making and Selling Your Own CDs by Jana Stanfield. The book is just what it says it is. I picked it up at the library three weeks ago to read as I got my hair done for my birthday party.
This chirpy little how-to book moved me so much, that I feel a little silly. Basically, it empowers musicians to get their work recorded and gives simple ways of getting them sold (usually one by one). It posits that you can make a complete living this way with some years of hard work.
The book takes considerable time to debunk the myth of the record contract. Wow. I mean, I've been saying this stuff for years, but I'm beginning to realize how deeply I've bought into the rock star ethos that infects the Western World. You will be discovered. You will be loved and showered with riches and praise. You will be able to make art and nothing else and the rest will be taken care of. Your existence will be justified.
Of course, I've known for years the truth about record companies whose raison d'etre is to get as much money away from the artist and into their pockets as possible. I know that XTC didn't make an album for seven years because they were trying to break away from Virgin Records which insisted the band members owed them money at the same time as it pocketed wads of cash yearly from sales of the band's albums.
That's seven years of music lost to the world.
>>Oy, this is going to be a long post. Sorry.<<
Stanfield talks about a process of de-alienating music and its consumption. She gets to meet almost everyone who buys her albums. She gets to say thank you. They get to say what they like about what she does. Isn't it strange that we instead idealize a process that makes artists into products and only allows consumers to connect to plastic discs in plastic stores?
I know all this, and yet I need to hear it over and over again. Because I'm still waiting. I'm still waiting because my daddy told me that one day the world would realize how wonderful I am and he could bask in the reflected glory of my name in lights. And OH, have I wanted to give him that. I mean, fuck the fact that I've become a decent human being and a loving man able to take care of himself and others. We're talking GLORY here!
And this self-same desire for fame has stopped me over and over again. It is the panic I feel at 4 a.m. Because, if I do make my music and the world doesn't stop dead in its tracks, I will have FAILED!!!
In the book, Stanfield talks about how she made her first cassette release. She had been playing a song at open stages that she wrote about the loss of a loved one. People kept asking her for a tape because they really needed to bring that song home and let it heal their own pain. But she wouldn't record one because she "wasn't really a good enough singer" etc., etc. She points out that her own insecurity was preventing her song from reaching people who were asking for it. People who needed it.
The universe sent me this message via this book, and then kept sending it to me over and over. At the comic festival last weekend, I met all these brilliant artists, from 20 to 50 years old, making their work, selling their work, travelling the continent and building websites to get their work out. And what's the formula? Have something you want to say passionately, then work conscientiously to find people who need to hear it. Bake for five years and serve.
There have been more messages and I could go on for days but I'll just say one more thing. I had a revelation in the shower this morning. I suddenly said, "What if you make your art and it isn't good enough to shake the world to its foundations? Can you survive that?" And I answered, "Yeah, I can". I can make something that makes me happy. Maybe it can touch someone else too. Can I make a living at it? Who knows? Am I brave enough to try?
That's a good question. Thank you for reading this. I feel weird talking about it. Now, I feel like I have to be a success story for you.
The latest round of cosmic messaging started when I read the The Musician's Guide to Making and Selling Your Own CDs by Jana Stanfield. The book is just what it says it is. I picked it up at the library three weeks ago to read as I got my hair done for my birthday party.
This chirpy little how-to book moved me so much, that I feel a little silly. Basically, it empowers musicians to get their work recorded and gives simple ways of getting them sold (usually one by one). It posits that you can make a complete living this way with some years of hard work.
The book takes considerable time to debunk the myth of the record contract. Wow. I mean, I've been saying this stuff for years, but I'm beginning to realize how deeply I've bought into the rock star ethos that infects the Western World. You will be discovered. You will be loved and showered with riches and praise. You will be able to make art and nothing else and the rest will be taken care of. Your existence will be justified.
Of course, I've known for years the truth about record companies whose raison d'etre is to get as much money away from the artist and into their pockets as possible. I know that XTC didn't make an album for seven years because they were trying to break away from Virgin Records which insisted the band members owed them money at the same time as it pocketed wads of cash yearly from sales of the band's albums.
That's seven years of music lost to the world.
>>Oy, this is going to be a long post. Sorry.<<
Stanfield talks about a process of de-alienating music and its consumption. She gets to meet almost everyone who buys her albums. She gets to say thank you. They get to say what they like about what she does. Isn't it strange that we instead idealize a process that makes artists into products and only allows consumers to connect to plastic discs in plastic stores?
I know all this, and yet I need to hear it over and over again. Because I'm still waiting. I'm still waiting because my daddy told me that one day the world would realize how wonderful I am and he could bask in the reflected glory of my name in lights. And OH, have I wanted to give him that. I mean, fuck the fact that I've become a decent human being and a loving man able to take care of himself and others. We're talking GLORY here!
And this self-same desire for fame has stopped me over and over again. It is the panic I feel at 4 a.m. Because, if I do make my music and the world doesn't stop dead in its tracks, I will have FAILED!!!
In the book, Stanfield talks about how she made her first cassette release. She had been playing a song at open stages that she wrote about the loss of a loved one. People kept asking her for a tape because they really needed to bring that song home and let it heal their own pain. But she wouldn't record one because she "wasn't really a good enough singer" etc., etc. She points out that her own insecurity was preventing her song from reaching people who were asking for it. People who needed it.
The universe sent me this message via this book, and then kept sending it to me over and over. At the comic festival last weekend, I met all these brilliant artists, from 20 to 50 years old, making their work, selling their work, travelling the continent and building websites to get their work out. And what's the formula? Have something you want to say passionately, then work conscientiously to find people who need to hear it. Bake for five years and serve.
There have been more messages and I could go on for days but I'll just say one more thing. I had a revelation in the shower this morning. I suddenly said, "What if you make your art and it isn't good enough to shake the world to its foundations? Can you survive that?" And I answered, "Yeah, I can". I can make something that makes me happy. Maybe it can touch someone else too. Can I make a living at it? Who knows? Am I brave enough to try?
That's a good question. Thank you for reading this. I feel weird talking about it. Now, I feel like I have to be a success story for you.
