A Musical Thorn In My Side

Written On the Evening of Monday, March 12, after a shot of espresso.

As predicted, no sooner than I got off the plane in Houston, I jumped back into my old routine. I’ve been spun out in work mode and just realized it’s an hour later than I thought it was. Almost 3 weeks have passed since I left the Imperial lifestyle of Costa Rica. I’ve been busy looking for more money and forgot about more funny. Everyone is asking where my next trip will be. I have absolutely no idea and no plans.

So I’m finally getting into a book that a friend gave me 12 years ago. Yeah, I guess I put it off awhile. I figure if I’m really going to do anything with my creative self I might as well get on with it before I turn into a woulda shoulda coulda it’s too late kind of guy. The book I’m referring to is called The Artists Way. It’s pretty well known and has been around awhile. It provides and outlines a program to free up and grease the creative cogs of the right brain. I keep thinking back to some of the best advice I ever got out of a performance workshop, “Invest more time in the Absurd”.

So, I’m a singer songwriter and obviously a bit of a writer with this blog. Over the years I’ve written countless fragments to numerous melodies and have done a very good job of not sharing, forgetting, and neglecting. It’s mostly a bunch of crap but somewhere within it all I believe there may be an element of something different, or, maybe even worthwhile.

For the past 30 years I’ve been fairly consistent with picking up the guitar and doing something in the privacy of my own space where no one can hear. There have been brief segments of time where in a flash of inspiration I’d play a few open mikes. At one point I actually laid down a few tracks in a studio. I even posted a few songs on MySpace Music and over time have had a couple of local promoters contact me. Of course I turned them down. I simply don’t have my act together at all.

My complacent attitude and approach towards any musical abilities I posses has left me with a constant thorn in my side. I am insanely critical of whatever I do and aside of a clever line here and there I can’t say I’d call what I come up with all that interesting or even good. I’ve done a wonderful job stifling myself in a time where lots of people profit off bad music. I can be critical of others but it’s nothing compared to the criticism towards myself. The only one holding me back is me and I’ve been doing a very good job at that.

I’ve never envisioned myself as a performer touring around telling goofy jokes between songs with the obligatory sing along and Kum By Ya warm fuzzy while standing on a corner stage at Molly’s coffee shop. After the show you can buy my Cd for $15. Thanks for the tips and don’t forget to sign my email list.

I guess that’s part of the game and many folky folks make a decent free spirit life out of it but I don’t really think that’s me. But what if it is? No, I know myself better than that. Or do I?

I’ve camped with tank topped Birkenstock clad songwriters at folk festivals and song schools and I can’t say I’ve really enjoyed it all that much. Sure, there are inspirational moments but I don’t much care for Folk Music when you get right down it unless it’s really good like Dylan or Townes. So much folk music sounds the same and most of it really isn’t all that good. Same riffs, cords, techniques, formulas etc. About the only thing that sets folk artists apart from one another is their stage presence. Go to a folk show and buy the CD afterwards. 9 times out of 10 you will be disappointed with the recorded version but may have loved the live show.

So what the heck am I going to do about it? Usually when I get inspired to start doing something with my music the first thing I’ll do is avoid the guitar and fill my life with other more important things like wasting time on the internet or dive into projects that really are more important. I’m exceptionally good at over using the pause button.

So, I’m at Cactus records the other day and see this band call Dr Dog. The sound system/pa was pretty bad but I could still tell the band is quite good. They’re kind of a reinvented 60’s pop type group for the modern age. The store was absolutely packed and tickets for their show that night had been sold out for days. The crowd was mostly 20 something’s and younger with a few older people scattered about.

Although their music is quite good I really felt it as the sound of a younger generation. A sound for a different time. I can’t say I much related to it and found myself squeezing through the crowd in search of the exit door. After all, the free beer was gone.

So I guess I’m not 27 anymore. Not sure how that happened as I’ll be 47 this year. I really don’t feel my age and with so many years of travel and life experience perhaps that’s my angle to the songs that turn inside me that have yet to emerge behind the strings of a Guitar. Just the fact that I’m writing about this issue in my blog is kind of interesting as few people even know I play guitar and write music. Even fewer have ever heard any of my stuff and those who hear my music usually don’t have much to say about it.

But still, it remains a thorn in my side…… I doubt I'll do anything about it. Or, will I?