The Unrelenting Crush of Musicianship

It’s entirely possible that the music I write is complete garbage.  I have no delusions that that happens to a lot of people and I may very well be one of them.

But the more I think about it, crappiness has had little to do with who wants to listen to demos or who supports it out of friendship.  From my experience as an amateur performer and from working at a venue, I think it’s more likely that there are just too many artists out there to care about the people who are making music around you.  I am also feeling that people will generally only actively consume music if that artist has something that creates a layer of distance between them and their audience.  Exempli Gratia, if it has been propped up by a label, no matter how small that label is - and in some cases, especially if it’s a small label.  And when there is that layer of distance to an artist, be it management or simply not knowing them in person, there is a sense of legitimacy.  I think this distance is required for fan-dom.  I also think it’s mostly it’s a subconcious thing.

Think about it:

Scenario #1: You’re friends with a crappy band.  They have a showcase - all the A&R people and managers will be at the show and it would really mean a lot to them if you’d show up.  You’re available and they’re getting you in for free.  Do you go?  Of course you do.  If you don’t, you’re a crappy friend.

But maybe you are busy.  And then you don’t go.  And some time later on, you catch another show, after they’ve been picked up by management.  It still means a lot to them that you were able to make it out, but now that you’re at this show, you’re wondering how this many people heard of your friend’s crappy band.  Where did they all come from?  Are they friends, too?  People actually like this music?

Now, let’s turn this around.

Scenario #2: You heard about a local band that sounds like a band you already like.  Cool.  Oh, they have a show at [X] venue.  That’s close by.  But you’re busy, so nevermind.  Oh, but they have music for download?  Okay, let’s check it out.  Holy crap, this is really good.  Alright, you’ll catch the next show because now you’re technically a fan.  The next show’s flyer has text in a large font that says to come and support this band because all the A&R people and managers will be at the show and it would really mean a lot to them if you’d show up.  Do you go?  Of course you do.  If you don’t, you’re a crappy fan.

But in this case, there’s a little bit of exploration needed on your part because it’s not like you know the people in the band as friends.  There’s that distance that legitimizes your appreciation for their music.  It’s not like your friend made you listen to a demo or anything.  You did this of your own free will.  You found this music yourself.  And that’s a good feeling.  They’re your band.  You found them.

NOW - let’s take away the show.

Scenario #3: If you’re friends with the crappy band, you probably don’t care to listen to their demo in lieu of a performance.  If you’re not friends with them, chances are there’s no reason for you to have heard about them because there is no show to put them into a context.  If you’re a musician yourself, you tend to actively listen to the music of your peers for at least the edification.  You adore the ones who are genuinely talented.  But if you’re a musician, you usually find out about your peers by footing the same bill as them.  No show, no camaraderie.

The show is almost the totality of a music career here.

Scenario #4: Let’s take away the crappy.  You’re now friends with a pretty damn good band.  But does this make you a fan?  Probably not.  You get the music for free because you’re simply curious, you get put on the guest list for the shows you decide to go to, and you show other people this band because you’re proud of your friends.  But the music then starts to speaks for itself, the fans catch on, and now you’re friends with a good band who is going somewhere.  And now, it weirds you out, because they are your friends, not necessarily rock stars. It’s weird to see the young girls swoon over the guy you’ve seen wipe boogers on his dog when it walked by.  It’s weird to see guys fall in love with your friend, the chanteuse, when you’ve held her hair back as she ralphed because she just got her ass kicked by Jose Cuervo.

They’ll always be your friends, and unless they become millionaires (which in this day and age of music is highly unlikely), they’ll never be rock stars in your eyes.

So what is my point with all this?

My point is that I’m continually discovering the extent to which amateur musicianship is being in a strange pickle.  No matter how talented you are, you need to know how to work the system to get recognition.  That’s understood as one of the sad facts about music and its business.  But the system is self-contradictory.  There’s a paradox in amateur musicianship, in that the only quantifiable merit in the underground is popularity, and popularity can be feigned with the help of friends; but after surmounting the underground and breaching the independent league, there is then merit for obscurity, and for how obliquely an artist is positioned to appear to new fans.

Seriously, what the hell?

But regardless of where you are in the pickle, you’ll always be blindly supported by your close friends whether they like your music or not.  Because they love you, and they realize musicianship is important to you.

Even though the reality of the matter is they don’t give a crap.