Tag: artist

managing the unbridled

I’ve driven a few people nuts over the years, from romantic partners to band members, but none so much as myself. It’s not until very recently that someone flipped on the lightswitch and the reason was revealed – AuDHD – the 1-2-punch that is the combination, and often conflicting traits of Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD).

One of these things can be medicated. So, I spent a month building up levels of that medication, and I’ve been on my full dosage for a month now, and I have to say that the barking dog that is ADHD put on a leash (still barking, though – it’s being treated, not cured) it’s really given my Autism symptoms some space to move around and show itself – and while it can be challenging at times, and I definitely catch myself being weird in public more frequently… I have to say that I really do like myself.

What really adds layers to this is that I’m also starting a small business that allows me to make really cool stuff. Full disclosure: I’ve been running small performing arts businesses: rock & roll bands – for decades, so while some of this is very new, a lot of it is very familiar and I definitely DO have something to compare the experience to, and that comparison is Me vs. Medicated Me.

I’ve put an inordinate amount of energy into this new venture that seems to be falling together pretty seamlessly, somehow. I don’t have a wild number of gigs right now, which sucks, but it’s good for the development of ‘this thing‘ (as I’ll refer to it henceforth) because there is not much to distract me from ‘this thing‘ currently. The big year-end push at my day job has recently happened, so there’s a little more mental space for ‘this thing‘ right now on that front as well.

So what’s different?

My level of focus is huge. As much as I’ve become Dr. Doolittle around my house, forgetting whether I’ve let the dog outside and when, or that I have rice on the stove, or that I have a coffee growing colder by the minute still sitting under the Nespresso tap… completely losing track of time to the degree that I have set multiple alarms to remind myself to check the time… all this aloofness is happening in favor of mentally differentiating between small parts for something I’m building, or paint shades.

I’m suddenly able to point myself in a direction and see it through to the end. Sure… time-blindness is a factor more than ever before, but that’s become part of the planning, and the ASD part of my brain loves a plan… while the ADHD part can roll with a plan that changes… so while my plan may be to do some very detail-oriented work, if my eyes and hands aren’t cooperating that evening, I can change gears and tackle something that I’d planned to do another evening. It all needs to get done… so all steps forward are progress.

It’s when I don’t have a plan, and things change… that shit goes sideways in a hurry. I’ve walked away from a few flaming wreckages in my day, and this won’t be one.

I’ve still got a thousand things going on in my brain at a time, but each of them has time & space to breathe and develop. It’s a very exciting and explorative time in my life and I’m honestly really excited to do it, and while I’m pursuing this I also get to learn how to work with myself in a whole new way, which is thrilling. It’s like having a business partner that understands my shortcomings and compensates for them – meanwhile, creativity is flowing in a really cool and interesting way.

I’m excited to reveal what I’ve been working on – ideally by the fall of 2026, I should be able to do some sort of reveal, because there are legal and tax things at play that I don’t fully understand – but some of that might be a job for someone else if this all goes the way I hope it does.

What no entrepreneur will tell you is that there’s a possibility that the whole thing falls flat… They can’t think like that, and neither can I. But what I can say is that if it doesn’t rise to the level I hope to see it reach, I’ll still be richer for the experience.

You can’t buy that kind of fulfillment.

manifest

I have a full life, and I truly love my full life. At the risk of bragging, I have a family that consists of a very supportive girlfriend and a teenage daughter that wants to spend time with me. If you have a teenage daughter, you know that’s rare. I have an amazing dog that teaches me life’s most simple and important lessons every day… I have a fantastic job that doesn’t interfere with my art-life… and my art life is growing constantly.

There is no part of my life that actively interferes with any other part of my life and if that’s not balance, then I don’t know what is. I realize that I have manifested this; or in a more traditional sense, I built it.

The word manifest; itself, comes from two root words:
Manus – the latin noun for ‘hand’
Festus – which comes from the latin adjective ‘infestus’ which is the root for words like ‘infestation’ and ‘festival’

… so it more or less translates to hand party… or ‘to put a lot of your own hands into something.’ You cannot really manifest anything by sitting around and wishing for it… you have to put thought into action.

That’s the long way around… but it means: I wanted this and I created it.

This was made all to clear to me on a recent phone call with an old friend I don’t see anywhere near enough, where he reminded me of a conversation we’d had in our early 20s about what we wanted our future to be. We’d both fantasized about perfecting our artistic crafts in a humble way, being shit-hot writers and performers who lived covertly normal lives. Essentially being a big deal to a niche market, so we could have modestly nice homes surrounded by good neighbors who had no idea who we really were. A secret identity of sorts.

He spent a few minutes pointing out to me that I have exactly that life – with a few variables augmented slightly – but still, it’s a conversation I won’t soon forget that has filled me with gratitude.

So although this life is full, and occasionally it exhausts me… it was put this way with thoughtful intention and I am extremely grateful for it.

rock & roll

One of the things about blogs that’s great is that I can throw down an opinion and nobody realllly gets to say a thing about it. People are welcomed to not like it, and/or not even read it, and it doesn’t phase me either way, because for me, the writing is the prize, and that often happens weeks before anyone reads what I’ve written. I’ve gotten into some abstract spiritual things in the past, and today is no different, really.

Rock & Roll.

Rock & roll, as much as it’s kind of a specific thing, is also not. It with a bunch of rebellious kids playing loud & fast music and racing hot rods and as much as it’s been packaged and sold back to us, and diluted a little bit each time, there are people who still dig deep into the back pages of what it really is and was and was supposed to become, and who truly embody the swagger and the spirit that was forged in the fires of Hell decades ago. These rock&rollers… their numbers are incredibly low. Lower than you think. They dispense with the slickness of the repackaging and leave that to the engineer, producers, and marketing teams who in-turn try to shoehorn these square pegs into round holes… and it kinda works, but in the end, the art and the artist win against the marketing teams.

See? Abstract. I told you.

Let’s start at the beginning – and no, we’re not going to start with Elvis Presley or Ike Turner or Sam Phillips, or even Buddy Holly. We’re going to start with Jerry Lee Lewis.

Jerry Lee was an absolute motherfucker. he was a phenomenal piano player whose skill is often overlooked and overshadowed by his short-lived and career-destroying marriage to his underaged 2nd cousin. He did his very own thing right until the very end, in spite of most of his performance career being in country music. If ever there was a performer who was unapologetically himself, who flipped the bird to the haters and the fakers right until the day he died, it was Jerry Lee Lewis.

Lemmy Kilmister, singer and bass player for Motorhead, and prompter of my personal motto: “If you think you’re too old to rock & roll then you are” built a reputation on excess of everything – most of all, volume. He wrote, recorded and toured relentlessly kicking off every show with “We are Motorhead and we play Rock & Roll” – an avid fan of early rock & roll by the likes of Chuck Berry and The Beatles, whom he preferred over the Rolling Stones as they were suburban rich kids who didn’t embody ‘the real thing’ in his mind. His defense of the true essence of rock & roll was unwavering as he openly criticised hair metal and nu-metal, and backed up his talk with 23 studio albums and 16 live albums – all after the age of 30.

Iggy Pop. Icon and artist, has released 27 studio albums – some of which are debatably unlistenable – starting with one of the most influential bands ‘The Stooges’ who; by his own account, likely played to less people in their years as a band than currently cite them as an influence. His honesty around the struggle to get The Stooges off the ground, his tumultuous friendship with David Bowie, his time in a mental institution due to his heroin addiction, and his open admission that he’s worked a number of jobs including as a real estate agent in order to continue to release music and art without compromising his artistic integrity, understanding that half-assing his vision is not an option. He’s the only one still alive as I write this, and he released one of his best albums “Every Loser” at the age of 75 in 2023… kicking off the whole record with an absolute pounder that opens with the lyric “I’ve got a dick & 2 balls and that’s more than you all.”

These are 3 examples, and I’m sure people would like me to talk about Dave Grohl or Jack White but in all honesty, they are too young and arguably too business-minded for anyone to really be able to say they “lived it till the end” or some such shit, because it’s not the end for them. There’s still plenty of time for them to water down what they’re doing, and maybe they already have.

I hope that when I am all done on this planet, that people can look back on my body of work and surmise that I did it exactly how it was in me to do. I’m sure many people already don’t like what I’m doing, but I really don’t give a fuck, because they cannot deny that I am doing it with intention, and skillfully, the way it’s in me to do. Maybe they’ll come around and maybe they won’t, but in the end I believe I will be satisfied with that I’ve left behind.

keep pushing

The last little while has been a veritable firehose of creativity coming at me, or through me, or however it comes out. I feel like I am part antenna, plucking poetic metaphors from the sky, while simultaneously spitting out verse and peeling off chord patterns and riffs like they’re going to rot if I don’t get them contained.

It’s both inspiring and perplexing.

When records are made, there’s often a feeling of dread and doubt looming beneath the skin, perpetually asking questions like “what if this isn’t good enough?” and “what if you never make another record?” and I know this to be true because I’ve heard other songsmiths say it out loud, but the past few records I’ve made haven’t been like that at all. I know for a fact that I’ll make more and I have a dozen professional releases behind me to illustrate how that happens, but lately I’ve been feeling like the recording(s) that my band is about to start work on are actually really important.

There’s nothing “right now” about these songs, as far as subject matter. On the contrary, I find that records tend to be a marker in time – sort of a “this is what it was like that year” rather than something that affixes itself to a time & place and becomes irrelevant with the changing times. (By that token, if you want to know what my life felt like in 2010-2012 was like, take a listen to the Fuzz Kings releases that came out in 2013 & 2014. If you want them on vinyl, I’ll be happy to furnish you with them.)

Anyway, I have no idea what ‘really important’ even means. Will it propel me forward as an artist? I certainly hope so… I can’t imagine it not doing so, really. Will it top charts? influence media? challenge the status quo? I am certain that I have no idea. “Important” doesn’t always mean successful, and nothing is guaranteed in this life and in this industry. And I know as well as anyone that sometimes people don’t find your record until it’s 10 years old… maybe older.

I don’t think it’s happenstance that I’m posting this as I encroach on 2 years clean & sober. October 22nd, 2019 I had my last drink (in excellent company, mind you). A couple weeks prior to that I was pulling over on Highway 2 to throw up into the ditch multiple times on my way back from a music conference. I’m not here to tell anyone to drink or not drink, but I can tell you that in my case, it’s resulted in being much more present in my performances, much more present in my songwriting, and much more present in my interactions with people. It’s interesting that it’s also the anniversary of this blog, and the anniversary of the day I moved into my house… all happening in different years, and unintentionally.

What I do know is that this is what I am supposed to be doing right now, and this is the frame of mind I am supposed to be in. We can talk about destiny, or the illusion of free will if you like, but all I know is that it feels really good to be right where I am supposed to be.

I cant wait to share my art with you.

more of more

I’m emerging from one of the busiest times of my year right now. Between the year-end for the company I work for, personal & business taxes, festival applications, grant applications, tour dates, meetings… and a bunch of stuff I’m likely forgetting to mention pertaining to normal family life – let’s just say, I’m happy to be typing a blog entry right now.

The truth of the matter is, I love it. I am fully immersed in things I am happy to be a part of and although I could use some downtime, I could use more purpose-driven effort in my life. Perhaps that’s why I’m currently revamping my workout & diet and forging ahead into new territories of physical exhaustion.

The dream for every artist is to supplant themselves into a world of art production without skipping a beat when it comes to their pocketbook, and I’m not different. Who wouldn’t want to play guitar and write songs about what matters to them and completely replace their 9-5 job, maybe even do a little better? There’s no question, and I think any artist who doesn’t cop to that probably isn’t really an artist – but there’s a mountain to climb between here & there.

We don’t get to walk off the job and walk into a comparable pay rate (or better) of self-employment without first tackling the prospect of doing both at the same time and keeping everyone happy in the process. That’s right – I work 2 full time jobs… maybe 3, honestly. So does every serious artist you know. I think most of the people who use terms like ‘grinding’ and ‘hustling’ really have no concept of what those words mean, because if they did, they wouldn’t have time to tell people how hard they’re grinding.

But I’m not here to measure dicks so much as I am here to tell you that I love this. I can’t be concerned with what anyone else is doing when they’re ‘grinding’ because the more attention I pay to that, the more likely I am to drop the ball for myself and my band.

I don’t love being busy.
I love having a purpose, and seeing that purpose through. It’s when I’m in the mud like I have been for the past 4 months that I need to remind myself how grateful I am to do what I do to the degree I am doing it, all the while knowing that it’s a progressive movement and it will become more intense as time moves on.

I’ve come to understand that “The joy you find on the summit of Mount Everest is the joy you brought with you” so I don’t think you’ll find me complaining anytime soon.

There wouldn’t be any purpose to it, because I’ve chosen this.

high powered

The community I’ve joined to help me contend with my brain’s propensity for malfunction requires the acknowledgement of a higher power. This is not foreign to me, given my churchy upbringing, and it’s not a far stretch to acknowledge that I am not the most powerful force in the universe.

As I’ve cited more than once – if I am the most powerful entity, and this whole societal simulation is loaded for me and me alone (narcissistic as that sounds), and I am ALSO unable to control myself around a box of donuts, then by definition, that box of donuts is the highest power.

And that’s fine. What I have is more powerful than all the powdered sugar in the free world, but I struggle to name it. God feels funny, as that term feels like it’s spoken for already, and The Universe feels a bit unspecific. Terms like ‘Great Spirit’ don’t feel like they’re mine to use, and most other terms feel ingenuine or dismissive in their lack of power.

“God” is an obvious placeholder, I guess.

Biblically, God famously said “I am the great I am” which tracks well for me, as I do like the idea of God being within all of us, whether he was invited in or not. It aligns with other phrases I’ve heard that I identify with, such as “you are the one you are waiting for” among other introspective and possibly cliche sayings.

In recovery, I was told to essentially make up a God. I think that’s funny as I type it, but I also think that making him up is what makes him real. I believe that Odin exists because the Norsemen decided he should, and that’s that. It would be difficult for me to say he’s not real at his point, as a person who can and does sit down with a pen and a notebook and conjures a song into existence when moments before, there was no song. Any artist does this, really… I mean, how many brush strokes does it take to turn a canvas into a painting? I digress…

The prospect of being made in God’s image is also of interest to me. First off it tells me that The Creator made me a creator. It also indicates – and this will piss a few people off, I’m sure – that God almost certainly has darkness in him, as he has certainly created some dark things for us to dwell on, as well as dark forces that keep things in balance… and really, that’s fine.

There’s an element of selfishness in any good deed done that I think needs to be acknowledged – not to the point that we should relish in taking selfies of ourselves giving money to homeless people or anything particularly brazen, but just the fact that it feels good to do good. It might not be conscious in the moment, but when I pull over on the shoulder to help some stranger change a flat tire, or I boost a coworker’s car, or drop some of my girlfriend’s baking in the lunch room at work, it feels good to know that these things are appreciated to the point that I’d be inclined to do it again because I felt some reward. This is in it’s very nature, selfish.
It feels even better to do something for a stranger.
But can you, or I, do a truly great deed for a total stranger and never have them find out who it was? Would we be able to contain that level of joy in ourselves, realizing of course that to share the experience would only accentuate the selfish act?

Really, if doing good things for people didn’t feel good, we’d have wiped our species off the planet eons ago.

So even at our absolute best there’s a darkness inherit in our actions. I write songs and share them with as many people as I can but I want the credit for the craft… I’m happy to help someone reach their goals but it works best on my timeline, and if I feel truly appreciated. Even for someone to beat the odds of surviving a serious health diagnosis means that a lot of people have to get hurt or killed by the same ailment in order for that story to be noteworthy.

These are things we cannot control, and yet we celebrate them. That doesn’t make these things any less special for the recipient of a good deed, nor should the fractionally selfish component of doing a good deed prevent us from helping one another. As far as biblical text goes, God created Satan, and Satan didn’t create anything… and when Satan was cast out of Heaven, he was not cast into Hell. He was cast down to earth.

I’m rambling.

All that to say – if we are truly made in God’s perfect image, then it’s worth entertaining the idea that our flaws are by design, and that the balance of the universe is far too complex for any of us to ever understand… so we have to take God on our own terms.

So I am searching for balance, I suppose.
Light means little without the prospect of darkness, and vice versa.
Same with happy & sad.
Sunny days don’t mean anything without the threat of rain… and to further push the metaphor, crops need both. People need both.

So I won’t let the dark parts of me take over completely, nor will I ignore it completely and be happy-go-lucky all the time… both versions are balanced.

a.i. art

“Art echoes the human experience, so for someone to even refer to A.I. generated images or sounds as ‘art’ is a minor pet peeve. Any A.I. generated music is likely to be prompted with profit in mind, rather than quality – so my career as a twangy rock & roll recording artist is no more in jeopardy from A.I. than it is from any blossoming DJ remixing top 40 hits in the same year as my next release – it doesn’t even register as a blip on the screen. “

Beyond everyone’s dystopic fears of being enslaved by robots, there are several much more nuanced conversation about A.I. that can be had in the here & now – because no matter how you feel about it, A.I. is happening. The only portion of this conversation I feel remotely qualified to have is that around art.

People are worried; as they have a right to be, that A.I. is changing the landscape of what can be defined as art and what a piece of art might cost, and I think before we take the hair-on-fire reaction to something we don’t fully understand, we’re going to have to acknowledge a few glaring problems within this industry. As I go through this I’ll be toggling between a few different kinds of art.

The first of which; is that most people can’t afford to purchase original art. The glaring example is that The Mona Lisa; owned by The Louvre Museum in Paris, France, is essentially priceless. It’s hypothetically worth more than a billion dollars, but it’s not for sale regardless – this does not prevent me from purchasing a beach towel or a pair of socks with the image printed on it for a much more manageable price tag. I enjoy the licensing of that image, essentially for free.

I own printed copies of original artwork, still in support of the artist, purchased from the artist for a fraction of what a commissioned piece would cost. Many of us do, so the argument of ‘the original article’ vs ‘a reasonable facsimile’ is best left to people with an actual art budget.

Similarly, if I want to hear Bruce Springsteen sing ‘Hungry Heart’ it’s going to cost me a few hundred bucks, an evening, and I’m going to have to wait for the luxury. If I’m willing to settle for a cover band’s rendition of it, I’ll save more than a few bucks.

That’s all from a consumer’s standpoint. As an songwriter and recording artist, myself, I have to say that the entire world has been “getting the milk for free” for a long time without ever worrying about the price of the cow. I truly believe that we should all be able to subside and thrive off of the fruits of our artistic labor, but in the same breath I have to say that if you are making music or making art specifically for notoriety or financial gain, that you’d be better off picking up a part-time job at 7-11.

I make music because it’s in me to make. I’m not sure I really have a choice in the matter – and yes, what I do has value, and I am compensated for my efforts when I perform – but streaming revenues are not something that an artist like me banks on, but it seems to be the price of trying.

Art echoes the human experience, so for someone to even refer to A.I. generated images or sounds as ‘art’ is a minor pet peeve. Any A.I. generated music is likely to be prompted with profit in mind, rather than quality – so my career as a twangy rock & roll recording artist is no more in jeopardy from A.I. than it is from any blossoming DJ remixing top 40 hits in the same year as my next release – it doesn’t even register as a blip on the screen. As a matter of fact, the original version of the aforementioned top 40 hit didn’t register a blip, either, as it was more than likely pieced together in a board room in Sweden by a handful of men led by Max Martin or one of his disciples who specialize in turning note intervals into dollar signs.

… and if Max Martin loses his job to A.I., I have a feeling he won’t be on the bread line any time soon. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he’s already using it to make his life easier.

My thoughts drift to my subtle awareness of how the diamond industry works. Aside from the hellscape that is the Blood Diamond trade, I learned a while back that in the golden age of diamond mining, the pursuit was ‘the perfect diamond’ meaning of course that it had no; or at least very few, flaws. That is until the advent of the cubic zirconia, which is a synthetic compound with an equally stunning appearance that served to crater the notion of mining the perfect diamond, and the end result was an increased valuation on diamonds that were previously considered less valuable due to their flaws. This is because the presence of flaws made for easier certification of real diamonds. Clearly, the diamond industry has it’s problems.

This is analogous to the music industry in a number of ways. With the advent of most advances in recording technology, there have been people who push against it, arguing that the integrity of the craft is being lost – but there are flocks of music fans who go out of their way to see live music in all it’s imperfections, as well as purchase live albums, and seek out ‘gritty’ and ‘raw’ recordings because they feel more ‘real.’ With the undoubted flawless execution of music works performed by A.I. there’s little doubt in my mind that the number of people looking for the humanity in their music and art will only grow larger.

In the end… writers will probably take the biggest hit from this. Copywriters, translators (if there are any left), editors, some journalists I’m sure… but the greatest artistic works will continue to be the echoes of lived experience, which is something A.I. can never profess to have.

In the end, I guess you can go ahead and make all the A.I. generated “art” you want… just don’t expect me to pay for it.

Frankly, I’d be more interested to hear that A.I. has taken on the menial tasks of humanity – all the toilet scrubbing & burger flipping – for free, so we can be free to create more art than ever.