art – Page 2 – The Conscious Pilgrim

legacy

I won’t lie… it does feel a bit ‘on the nose’ to write a blog post about Ozzy Osbourne, but I’ve been sitting with this news today and I felt compelled to wax about it.

Not necessarily about Ozzy specifically, though it’d be remiss of me to ignore the fact that if you picked up a musical instrument after the year 1977, you have been either directly or indirectly influenced by Ozzy Osbourne. You might not even like Ozzy, but I promise you that a whole bunch of your musical influences loved him.

But what an incredible legacy. This man; and he obviously wasn’t the only one, worked exceedingly hard at something that nobody really understood until he was approaching middle age, when all of a sudden, you could look back on the dozen or so albums he’d made; both on his own and with Black Sabbath, and conclude that he was both prolific and proficient.

I won’t put myself on Ozzy’s throne, here, but that’s a situation I relate to. A lot of musicians and writers probably do… but as I look back on my own dozen albums or so, and the artistic works I have ahead of me, I know what is to get into my fortieth decade and only now have people starting to put together the notion that I am actually fuckin’ good at this rock & roll thing.

Most of us leave this plane of existence, and all we leave behind are a few belongings and a name. Those of us who are fortunate enough to find our vocation might leave a little more. Life is not to be struggled through so much as it is to be lived with purpose, and it’s that purpose that gives meaning to our struggle.

Ozzy was fortunate in that he actually threw in the towel a couple weeks back. He played his final shows with all of his friends and was sent off… pushed out on the iceberg, so to speak… and for all I know, it was that sudden lack of purpose that put him under. I can’t and won’t speak to the notion that his death was assisted other than to acknowledge that there are rumblings to that effect, but I won’t join in the possible spread of misinformation. The more cynical of us might conclude that; one way or another, Satan called him home at the end of his contract, but I find that more than a bit dismissive.

If a shark stops swimming, it dies.

The same is statistically true for many retirees within a few years of their retirement, uness they find some new way to frame life outside of the career they’ve known their whole lives. Though, 10 days is a short time. I saw Ozzy in the neighborhood of 20 years ago and if you told me it would be his final tour, it would have made sense. He’d lived a life of excess, and been diagnosed with Parkinson’s years ago… so it’s probably more appropriate to attribute his survival to his final performance to sheer willpower.

At any rate, a Rock & Roll Titan has fallen, and I tip my hat to his prowess and his incredible legacy of music and influence. To say that I’m indebted to him and his small army of incredible performers and collaborators would be a gross understatement.

Rest in Power, Prince of Darkness.

output

There are few things as simultaneously satisfying and consuming as making a record, and for those that don’t know… I am perpetually making a record.

I am constantly writing and composing, flushing out ideas, scrapping ideas, ash-canning entire songs, re-writing, changing keys, piecing concepts together, and woodshedding songs. I honestly can’t tell you how long it takes or how many songs I go through… but if I had to guess, I’d say I spend between 12 and 18 months writing 1-2 songs per week in an effort to get 12-15 that I am really happy with.

The best of the best get brought to my band, where the finishing touches are put on them, they’re tightened up, and performed live a handful of times to unsuspecting audiences, and then when there’s enough of them… typically at least a dozen, but as many as 20… we set up microphones and record them.

The recording process; since we have historically done it ourselves, takes another 3-5 hours per song (1-2 evenings per week) before we send it off to get mixed by someone else… a couple months later, we have a final mix. Within a month of that, we have a master, and roughly 3-4 months after that, we have vinyl records and songs you can stream.

I won’t get into the financial part of if, because it doesn’t matter, and we do as much of the tactile work ourselves as we can stomach which saves on costs, but we’ve also done this many times in our various bands before this.

By the time the record we just started tracking is ready for public consumption, some of these songs will be a couple years old. One of these songs is as old as the band… as it just never got recorded because it was never ready. I’ve rewritten the lyrics 3 times over before finally deciding to keep it instrumental, and spent some time building voicings around the original melody.

All that to say this:

Whatever you’re doing is happening in the time it’s supposed to take. The main criteria is that you’re happy with the finished product… and if you’re not, then it’s not done.

Nobody will ever know; or be able to put a monetary value, on your process.

The best art is made because it’s in you to make it.

anywhere else

I got back from a trip to Vancouver recently.

It might be hard to imagine for a person who values music as highly as I do, but I’ve never just gone there for a concert before. Every trip to Vancouver I’ve ever taken since I was 16 years old; with the exception of 1 family Christmas, was to perform… and I’m certain that we were underpaid in almost every instance, but that’s beside the point.

I went to see Drive-by Truckers and Deertick. Both were astounding, but Deertick were particularly surprising. That show made me want to write songs and make rock & roll records and go on tour. I’ve seen a lot of shows… some of them are good and you’re glad you went. Some of them are life affirming and stay with you for a long time. I didn’t have a religious experience, or anything like that… but I did feel the fire in my belly – the fire that was already there – flare up a little bit.

Along with that, Lu and I ran the perimeter of Stanley Park, I bought too many records from too many cool record stores, and we put on around 27,000 steps a day seeing cool shit and eating amazing vegan food and staying in a nice hotel.

As an Albertan, I have to strongly encourage you to get out of Alberta periodically. This place is mega-hard on your soul, particularly if you’re a creative person.

I’m lucky in a lot of ways, not the least of which is that my friends and I can pile into a Ford Explorer, hitch up a trailer full of gear, and roll into towns & cities where people don’t know us personally and we can all commune in a bath of rock & roll guitars and pounding drums, and we can all come away from the experience with our cups filled up. I get to do this in places that don’t know about our day jobs… don’t know our families… they only know what we tell them, and we only know what they tell us. It’s a magical experience where we see people as people… with none of the pretense.

Traveling to Vancouver was a similar experience.
Nobody asked me what I do for a living.
Nobody knew anything about me… I was just a spiritual being having a human experience and I truly enjoyed it.

If you haven’t gotten far enough away from home to feel that for a while… then it’s time.

Today, I am loading up the aforementioned trailer with those friends and driving to Twin Butte, AB to play Soulfest. It’ll be a riot. If you’re going to be there, come say hey!

balance

I am always searching for balance.

I have goals to look a certain way, perform to a certain level, run certain distances, eat a certain way, write songs to a certain standard… in amongst working and sleeping and being an attentive adult / father / partner / employee, it doesn’t take much to knock it all off kilter.

So, I have to stop and take stock of where I’m at.

It comes down to what kind of life I want to live.

If I could have everything I wanted, I’d be a Ironman Triathlete who played 250 shows per year to 10,000+ audiences, and have a personal chef, and would train 6 days a week… but it would be a solitary life, surrounded by people and close to noone.

If I trained for an Ironman, I’d have to put my rock & roll band on ice for a while. Any vacation time I had would be spent training. I’d hardly have time for my family because all I’d be doing was training, eating and sleeping.

If I were to chase bigger crowds with my music, I’d likely have to scale back my training, and spend more time at the right parties, socializing, and I’d compromise my health and the quality of my art.

If I lean into my daytime career, I’d likely crater my band, and possibly alienate my family doing so. I wouldn’t train much at all and I’d eat in restaurants and sleep in hotels far too much.

So I try to live my life in the middle… and my life in the middle is pretty great.

I’m 43 years old. I am on 0 medications, and have 0 health complications to be concerned with. I am available to people who need me, including my employer, I have great artistic output with top tier musicians and we do things the way we want them to be done.

All this to say, I am grateful for what I have, and I am happy where I am – because where i am is in a state of progress. I am moving forward in my life and in my art, not backward. I train hard, and I eat like an athlete… but there’s still room in my life for a vegan donuts. I play rock & roll and write songs constantly… but I’m still home for dinner and a dog walk. I work hard, but I’m still available to my family and my friends.

I’m serious.
But I don’t take myself too seriously.

I’ve been trying to find balance for so long that I almost didn’t recognize it when I found it.

thief of joy

As much as I eschew clickbait, I do still see those absurd headlines attempting to conjure clicks and engagement. The one I happened across just before writing this entry was about how Taylor Swift is the cultural heir (for lack of a better term) to what Bruce Springsteen has cultivated over his decades of writing and performing. I don’t really care what that article says, but I know enough to be able to acknowledge that Springsteen can do no wrong in most older music fans’ eyes, and that Taylor Swift is a polarizing character because she’s seen to have not ‘paid her dues’ yet for some bonkers reason. Hence… the clicks.

Chock it up to chauvinism, generational baggage, or whatever you want in order to justify the old guard’s disdain or distrust of Taylor Swift – but the fact is that this is not how all of this works. It’s not a royal bloodline in the monarchical sense – but proposing it might be a royal bloodline does serve to upset people who might not realize the bullshit factor in these types of comparisons.

Comparison. What a bitch.

Comparison is the thief of joy. It’s been said so many times that it’s almost meaningless when we hear it, but the distraction that comes with comparison can derail so much greatness. The amount of alcohol I’ve ingested, the amount of bad food I’ve eaten, and the amount of drugs I’ve done pale in comparison to the distraction I’ve put in my own way through being concerned with what other people are doing, and what successes other people are seeing from their efforts.

“This peformer is ___ years younger than me”
“That video has ___ more views than mine”
“That band has ___ more people at their shows than me”

… all of it distracts from what it truly important in my life – which is: am I engaging in my purpose?

None of that shit matters.

What I’m doing matters.
But… What I’m doing doesn’t matter to you – or at least it shouldn’t – partly; if not completely, because it brings about a sense of fear, and fear doesn’t live in the present moment… it lives in the future.

That brings about another thought which might seem to come from out of left field, but I think it relates. That is the potential role of A.I. in art and music as the future comes hurtling toward us.

It was recently put to me that with the advent of companies buying up the catalogued works of Bob Dylan, Dee Snider, and other song cafters of the 20th century and the growing ‘threat’ of A.I.’s presence in the arts are linked, and that these catalogues will be fed into A.I. machines for the purpose of creating more Bob Dylan (and others’) records long after the death of artists like him, and that “this is what we’ll be competing with in the future.”

I have to say that if this is remotely true, I won’t be competing.
It won’t be a competition.
If there’s a market for computer generated music, it’s likely going to be in genres of music that are inherently perfect. Recordings that have been engineered to a point of soulless perfection will be under threat of being undercut by machines that can do it faster and cheaper, and that don’t come with the flawed human elements of coping with addiction, trauma, stress, and all the other things that make art a reflection of humanity.

There will be no competition because there will be no comparison. If anything, it’s just as likely that value on human performances – flawed, imperfect performances – will increase, because it is real and relatable… and because as close as these things can get to being authentically human, humans still have a gut instinct that tells them when something is ingenuine, or outright bullshit.

If anything, my skills will be even more specialized as less people are actively doing them live and in-studio.

… there will be no comparison.
And my joy in performing my craft will stay intact.

father to the thought

There’s an old saying; maybe it’s a proverb, “The wish is father to the thought” that crosses my mind sometimes. Particularly around this time of year when people talk about ‘Christmas wishes’ and ‘New Years Resolutions’ – neither of which mean much to me, personally. I’ve written a few times over the years about how September is the beginning of the year for me (and I think most people) but for anyone new to this corner of the internet, I’ll sum it up by saying “I’m a big fan of making changes when they need to be made… rather than waiting for some special day on the calendar” though I’ll concede that some dates are special.

I’ve spent a good portion of my life wishing things were better while doing precisely nothing about it and wondering why things weren’t getting better despite my lack of effort. Then at 37 years old I started putting one foot in front of the other, resulting in losing 166 lbs, starting this blog, and taking my art seriously, and just generally doing a good job – even when doing things I hated. These things all resulted in a better and more fruitful life – but they also resulted in an adjustment of my sights, which made for more wishing… which made for more thoughtful execution.

So, I still wish for things. I just have better follow-through now.

I’ve developed a plan for things that I’m reluctant to talk about at this time, but I’ve taken on a long-term goal-oriented project that I’m creating the time for in my life. I’ll admit that it’s an artistic goal, and that I’ve been laying the groundwork for it for some time now, by way of proliferating artworks and other songs “ahead of a schedule.” When I say “ahead of schedule” I mean that there’s a certain timeline-oriented expectation for creative works with my rock & roll band, and due to our own efficient execution of things, we’re in a position where we can take on this ‘side quest‘ (for lack of a better term).

It’s something we’ve been talking about as a band for some time, and we’re putting it into motion now. It’s exciting, but it probably won’t see the light of day for a couple years.

But… it started with a wish.
And it developed into a pie-in-the-sky dream that we’re determined to see come to fruition.

I genuinely hope you still have wishes, and that you can muster up the gumption to make them happen. Following your dreams, no matter how big or small they might be, is a full-time commitment and a ton of work – and for most of us, it tends to have to happen in the off-hours when you’re burnt out from working too much, when you haven’t slept well, and you’re poorly nourished. it’s a true exercise in fortitude but nobody is going to do it for you.

It’s hard, and anyone who tells you it’s not hard is trying to sell you something.

So, I hope you don’t wait for it to happen – coax it out and help it along, and it will repay you with the energy you need to keep going.

when it’s no longer yours

There’s a strange thing that happens when you create something, and I don’t know that people really talk about it very openly. Maybe they don’t talk about it at all, but there are so many examples I can point to, and many of them can be triggering for creative people. I hope my perspective; however, is not triggering.

When you make something – anything – there’s a certain point at which it stops being yours, and starts being part of the fabric. Which fabric depends on what you’ve created, I suppose. I’m fortunate to have been part of many creations in my life, and over time I’ve learned that although I’ve been integral in the process, these things no longer belong to me.

The biggest and most obvious thing I’ve had a hand in creating is my daughter. She remains my daughter, and I suppose that will never not be the case, but as far as being part of the creation process of another human being goes – she is very much her own person, and is learning to self-govern by the example of the people around her; because, yes, it takes a village.

In a similar yet different way, I create music with my close friends. I write songs. I take a blank page, fill it full of words that rhyme, ideally with some poignant message about love or life, and I set it to music… and at some point after smoothing out the rough edges at loud volumes in a rehearsal space, it becomes what it’s going to be. Eventually it’ll be performed live, and/or in-studio and recorded, and released.

I may have some rights to it as has been carved out by intellectual property lawyers over the past hundred years or so, but if the magic and the timing line up, the song will take on a life of its own. In a perfect world (in which we do not currently live), someone with a higher profile than me will hear it and want to record it and release a version of it, and it will go on to reach more and more people. It will have taken on ‘a life of its own‘ the same way my daughter has a life of her own, and I the time will come when I have no real governance over what it becomes.

At what point does this happen? Probably when the record comes out, (though some pro-lifer may examine the parallels I’ve made so far and argue that it’s when pen meets paper… please understand that this is not a conversation I intend to have). After all, a painting is not a work of art until it’s finished.

And… making an album available for consumption is called “releasing.”

Regardless, my daughter will always be ‘my daughter’, and my songs will always be ‘by me’ if only as a point of reference: Davey’s daughter. Confusionaires’ songs.

The tendency with these artistic works, to further the parallels, is to be precious about it. To protect and conserve this music so nobody steals it and copies it before you get notoriety for it… and but this is where the parallels stop.

It’s important to let go of these things, and let them become what they are to be. Most of them will go nowhere, and become nothing – possibly ever, possibly just for a long time – while some of them might get picked up by the wind and travel the world. To put a finer point on it, if Bruno Mars heard one of my songs and loved it, and wanted to make a hip, modern r&b version of it, I’d be elated and honoured. However, I’d have to get comfortable with the fact that the majority of the world would know it as a Bruno Mars song because his version of it would easily travel further than mine.

A solid example of this if Johnny Cash’s version of Hurt, which was originally written and recorded by Trent Reznor under his project name ‘Nine Inch Nails.’ Though NIN has a far reaching fan base, that song has become a Johnny Cash song to more people than it is a NIN song.

Trent Reznor also knows that he can write more songs.
I can write more songs, too. And I will.

So to be precious about a string of words and notes that were arguably dropped on me and picked up by my antena from some unseen energy that has deemed me a good conduit for these messages seems selfish to me… especially since if I were to not write the words down, and not conjure up the melody and structure, that the song would keep floating, and be picked up by someone else.