blog – Page 8 – The Conscious Pilgrim

life with fear

In light of recent election results, I figured it’s time to talk about fear. I’ve spent a good portion of my life afraid of a lot of things. It’s through conversations with other people that I’ve come to this realization, and I’ve come to the realization that I was actually raised this way.

I’d wager a guess that a lot of us were.

I don’t blame my parents for this. They did their level best. We’re all doing our level best… but that doesn’t change the fact that I was raised in this environment. We were a low-income christian family who; on more than one occasion, were cut off at the knees by the church, and when struggling what any atheist might call ‘sour luck’ my folks were told they had sin in their lives that they needed to sort out.

Now, I don’t care if you’re a christian, but if you are you’d probably have a hard time arguing that christianity isn’t entirely based in fear… fear of Hell… fear of Satan… fear of being ‘left behind’… fear of sex… at this point, I’m not completely sure what the selling features of this ideology are, save for the fact that we are all spiritual beings looking for connection and a sense of belonging, and churches advertise their ability to provide these things on billboards.

Okay… back on track… my folks didn’t have much money, and what they did have they were very careful with – to a fault, really. So much so that most opportunities to invest were seen as high-risk. Even clearly good investments, like real estate provided a level of anxiety that I can’t seem to make sense of now as an adult.

This is the tip of the iceberg, but I won’t divulge much more because; again, I don’t blame my parents and I’m not interested in placing myself above them as though I am superior, because I’m not – However, the message that this lifestyle supplanted in my mind at a deep, subconscious level was one of similar fear.

I grew up to be an adult who was ultimately afraid of failure and afraid of success simultaneously. That might sound like a contradiction, but as far as my art goes, it kept me from pushing myself to do bigger and better things because I was:

afraid to compromise artistically because I might not be happy with the result
afraid to push my art further because that meant leaving my comfort zone
afraid to fail, because any failure I might have would probably be public
afraid to succeed, because if I found success doing something I didn’t love entirely, I’d be stuck doing it anyway
afraid to commit to any band for a long period of time, because I was constantly starting over at the bottom… where I was comfortable
afraid to be alone, because the value I put on myself was tied to other peoples’ opinion of me
afraid to be with people, because of how inferior I felt compared to them

… I could go on like this for days. I trapped myself in a cycle of mediocrity because it was within my comfort zone. Not that the music or the people I was making it with were mediocre, but that my effort to have people hear it was… and these things fizzle out when you don’t try very hard. That’s just how it works.

In the end, I’ve made a conscious decision to not be afraid. At the risk of summing it all up and making it sound simple and easy and quick – it is NOT – I’m not afraid of failure – it’s how I learn, and I’m not afraid of success – because any success is a gift, and it can leave me just as fast as it arrived. Maybe faster.

Really, I choose not to be afraid every day. It gets easier with the momentum of the previous day’s choice.

During the covid times, I stopped mainlining cable news, because it instills fear by constantly showing exceptional situations and telling you they’re normal, when the reason they are newsworthy is because they’re not the norm.

I’m not afraid of Donald Trump.
I wouldn’t have chosen him, but as it turns out, I wasn’t consulted on the matter. I won’t live in fear of the things I can’t control, and who becomes the president of a country I don’t live in is most certainly not something I can control.

What I can do is call out injustice when I see it. I can advocate for people less fortunate than myself. I can use my art to broadcast messages of love and growth. I can challenge the status quo when I see fit. I can support those who need it.

Fear lives in the future, and the future is uncertain.
I live in the present, where there is no fear, and there’s no uncertainty.
There’s just us… doing what we’re doing right now.
So we must act accordingly.

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.

thanks a lot

This weekend is Canadian Thanksgiving, a holiday that is a mixed bag of emotion for most people, particularly Indigenous folks. I won’t speak to that in great detail other than to say that I acknowledge their grievances against the Europeans that horned in on this land several hundred years ago, though I am grateful to be here, personally.

It’s also a hard time for families, and as someone who has chosen not to maintain contact with a sibling, I understand that from some people’s perspective I am part of the problem. I don’t hold it against anyone if they’re upset with me, and I hope they realize that my job as a parent and the head of my own household, is to stop the bullshit at my front door, and provide a safe environment to grow and rest. I’ve done that, and will continue to do so.

Maybe you get it.

Maybe you don’t get it – Maybe you are the ostracized one, frustrated with your family’s lack of empathy, or sympathy. Chances are pretty good that if you’re reading this, you’re ultimately doing okay, since accessing blogs takes a certain amount of privilege. Maybe you’ve had Thanksgiving dinner at the Herb Jamieson before, or perhaps you’re looking forward to a Big Mac Combo in a parking lot by yourself on this festive weekend.

I’ve done both. I promise you, it’s a temporary vocation.

One thing I can tell you is that I’m grateful for the shit-heeled experiences I’ve had – many of which I caused, some of which were done to me. I’ve been extended some of the greatest and most meaningful hospitality when my life was scraping the bottom.

I’m also grateful that I can provide this home to the people in it, and the people who visit it. I remember what it’s like to not have these things available to me. So, to the people who’ve reached out to me when I needed it more than they possibly could have known, I sincerely hope you are repaid 10x over.

And to those who I can help, I hope I do it justice.
I hope I don’t miss the opportunity.

… PS: If you can have thanksgiving without harming any animals out of some misplaced sense of tradition, or due to a social contract, please do.

a tragic loss

I guess this is how I process things. Forgive me if this is a bit free-formed, because although by the time anyone reads this, the sour news I’m about to write about will be common knowledge in the circles where it’s important. For some, this will be old news.

I’m still processing this I guess, but my boss, mentor, and guy I most want to be like when I grow up, Doug Elash, passed away a couple weeks ago.

Doug was a bomb-ass bass player, the coolest guy you’d ever meet, and an inspiring character at work and on-stage. I talked to him almost every day. Even today there were things I wanted to call him about that I just couldn’t and that fucking sucks.

After spending my whole day on the phone, distracted by having to break this news to people all over the prairies, I finally get to sit down with my own grief and frustration around the situation.

It’s messy and sad. I’m proud I got to work along side him, and I’m proud that he saw potential in me, and put me in the leadership position I’m in now.

Seriously the best dude.
Way too young to be peacin’ out of this plain.

Sigh.

When I’m faced with these things, I write.
I’ve been faced with these things before and I’ll be faced with these things again, and I won’t be able to attend the funeral… so I guess I get to have this space to share.

When I first found out, the message that was placed on me as the news washed over me was that life won’t wait for you to get off your ass and live it. I am by no means saying that Doug lived in any regrettably safe way – this message was for ME, not for him – I don’t even think it was from him, but nonetheless I feel it deep in my chest and as I was driving home from Saskatoon when I got the call with this news, I felt it grow. The message was followed by a song – a song handed to me on a silver platter – 3 verses and a chorus that I couldn’t get out fast enough, so I talk-to-texted them to myself and when I was done I hit send.

What’s strange is that is wasn’t a sad song or a particularly heartfelt song. It was kinda dumb, and fun rock & roll song that tells a fictional story – not unlike Jerry Reed’s ‘Guitar Man’ or something Chuck Berry would have penned 70 years ago. It comes out the way I talk and it’s a harmless, fun, nonsense story that touches lightly on the same ‘life wont wait’ theme, but as silly as it might seem if & when it comes out, it’s kinda important to me… and it’s even got a dumb title that’ll no doubt kind it’s way to a bumper sticker or a t-shirt.

It’ll be forever dedicated to Doug, who touched so many people’s lives for the good, was always super up-beat, who wasn’t afraid to take the long way around a story, and who will be sorely missed.

Thanks is a gross understatement, but regardless, thanks for everything, Doug.
Much love.

grown up

I’ve spent a lot of my life in the bottom half – and if you know what that means, then you have likely spent a little time there. Maybe you’re there right now. I’ve always been ‘okay’ in the sense that I’ve been able to keep a roof over our heads… but I’ve kinda always needed a little help.

Needing a little help comes with the territory of historically broke-ass musicians. We tend to live a little closer to the wire than most people are comfortable with, primarily in sacrifice to our art. This is especially prevalent with the big stuff… like purchasing a vehicle.

I’ve made mention of some vehicular obstacles over the past few months, and they are persisting – but the realization that we’ve been making due with a vehicle that – love it as I may – is not particularly well-suited to our needs. It’s a small pickup truck that’s not a comfortable ride when you need to put a 3rd adult-sized person in there, and after 16 years of parenting, there are 3 adult sized people in my house… as well as a 145 lb dog. I also play in a rock & roll band, and have need to move equipment pretty frequently these days… so it’s all added up to a vehicle purchase. We’d intended to address this in early 2020 after The Confusionaires second album was released… but a lil’ pandemic came along.

All that to say… the time has come.

So when it came time to do this deal, it was kinda freaky to be able to do it on my own… like a grown up. I suppose I became a grown up a few years ago when we bought our house without any help from our folks, but it has sunk in even more so now. I now own a vehicle capable of doing everything I need a vehicle to do.

I wondered how it would feel. Sometimes with these things, after all is said & done you just feel dread – but really I feel a sense of freedom despite the impending payments that must be made. I’ve doubled down, and bet on myself and on my music in the process of doing this and I’m ultimately setting myself up for success.

Who would’ve thought…?

receiving

I’ve recently returned from a trip with my family. My immediate family… we cast off the shackles of conventional work, boarded an international flight bound for Denver, Colorado and spent the better part of 4 days taking in a heaping helping of life affirming adventures.

The notion for the trip started with my daughter wanting to attend a concert that way coming to town that; if we’d have gone ahead with it, would have been the very first time any of us bought a ticket for a single concert that crested the $1000 mark. None of us could justify it, even that artist’s biggest fan in the house wanted to spend her hard-earned part-time paycheck on such an extravagant outing. I told her “I bet we could get on an airplane and see someone cooler for less money” and as much as I lost that bet by a country mile, we forged ahead with reckless abandon.

We bought tickets to Tyler Childers in Boulder, as all of his Canadian dates were sold out – but an open-air Saturday night concert in Boulder, right up close to the Rocky Mountains sounded like a good plan. We made ourselves a long weekend of it, stayed in a hotel I never would have gotten for myself, and threw down on thrift-store shopping, great food, concert merch, car services, $7 lattes, and at the almost-last-minute, we decided to add another concert ticket to the tab, and got to see Sierra Farrell at The Mission Ballroom while we were in Colorado as well.

I had a great trip with my gals, and my daughter is still beaming through the exhaustion from this whirlwind adventure. It was 100% worth it.

The part that I couldn’t put an earthly value on, was completely losing myself in the most life-affirming way. The type of show that would make a weaker musician give up entirely made me want to play more, write more, tour more, and push my own boundaries more than ever.

My soul was fed and nurtured by both of those incredible artists and I’ve never been more sure of what I’m supposed to be doing… and make no mistake – I was really sure before.

I was given a gift in my attendance of these shows that I won’t soon forget. I am eternally grateful.