performance – The Conscious Pilgrim

momentary

After a few years of writing this blog, sometimes it feels like I’m just repeating myself. What I’ve found; though, repetition is the stuff this life is built out of.

I talk about living in the moment because it matters, despite the fact that it feels like it distracts from the dream.
Meditation is important, despite the fact that I’ve gotten out of the habit of sitting in silence and meditating, and find pushing my body to it’s physical limits to be quite meditative. It draws me back to the moment, the painful, shitty moment I’m in after 2 hours of running on pavement with sweat in my eyes, no matter where my mind takes me.

But from one moment to another is a completely different experience. This is why it’s so important. If one moment I’m 13km deep into a hot sunday run and the next I’m giving you a giant sweaty hug, you’ll understand the momentary difference.

As much as I love a plan, and as much as I love to dream – and those things do have an important place – you’ll note that it’s a rare occurrence that someone ever has to remind you to daydream. What I do need are reminders to live in the here & now, which means if I’m unloading the dishwasher, I am present in doing so… and if I am walking on-stage with a guitar in front of hundreds of people, I am present in doing so.

As much as it’s about the individual living in the moment, there’s an element of outward respect as well. Those few hundred people watching me on-stage deserve for me to be present. I’ve seen enough musicians take the stage fucked up, or distracted, or just not ‘feeling it’ that night and it’s frustrating to that entire audience of people that are trying to live in that very exciting moment with that performer.

But it’s not just those big moments that matter. The little ones matter just as much, especially when people are depending on you on the smallest scale. Those everyday things we do like cooking, cleaning, driving… the tasks that make it so easy to zone out are so much more important than some musician giving a sub-par performance.

So… be present.
And don’t phone-it-in on stage.

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.

discomfort zone

“The purpose in my visit is growth. Not necessarily artist growth or soul nurturing connection, but straight up business. Straight up business is still personal, in that it’s connecting with real people and following up in an effort to make real things happen in the future.”

I’m doing something I’ve never done. I’m at a music conference, hobnobbing and making connections with professionals in my industry. I’m putting my best foot forward, and attempting to glitz-up; via conversation and genuine connection, my musical output. This has historically not been my strong suit, as I’m more than a little introverted – but my conference compatriot and band manager is very comfortable in these scenarios, so I’m in pretty good shape.

This is not really a setting I’ve spent any time in save for a few ‘meet-ups’ and what-have-you. It’s a departure from my usual den of rehearsal rooms, recording studios, and coffee shops – but it’s ultimately good. It’s stretching me in ways I hadn’t anticipated and I’m enjoying it a bit more than I thought I might – in retrospect, it’s taken some time to prime myself for this adventure – but again it helps that my band’s manager is situated in a hotel room not far from me, and she is 10x the social butterfly that I am. I also have the unwavering support of my girlfriend, Lu, which I can feel from over 300km away.

The purpose in my visit is growth. Not necessarily artist growth or soul nurturing connection (though I’m down for that), but straight up business. Straight up business is still personal, in that it’s connecting with real people and following up in an effort to make real things happen in the future. I’ve been told that when your body, soul, and mind are in alignment with your purpose, that the universe conspires to support you. Those aren’t my words, but I like them and I’ll use them. I’ll receive that message and I’ll share it, because my whole life has led me to this point, through all the twists & turns & bouts with alcohol and self loathing, I am planted firmly in the here & now and I have to believe and facilitate the notion that something positive and affirming is going to happen here.

So wish me luck.

As this is being posted, I’m 2/3rds of the way through it and my brain and heart and notebook are all brimming. To be in the company of so many like-minded and career-focused people is encouraging. This is one of the very select places you can be where there’s no chance of anyone telling you that you can’t do it, or that you can’t make a career out of art.

I suppose I knew from the get-go that this would be a make-work project, and that I would come away from this experience with a broadened approach to what I do, but it’s hitting me square in the face that the discipline practice that I’ve been applying to my personal life and fitness regimen is going to have to be applied to my professional life much more than it already has (and it has).

I love change. I embrace change. I am capable of change.

Training this week as been… well half of it has been in a different locale. Downtown Calgary, AB is a real scene. I like this city a lot, likely because I don’t live here but I do get to perform here with some regularity. I’ve been able to acquaint myself with the Bow River a bit, and have taken in this city’s skyline on my morning run, and the weight room in the hotel that’s hosting this conference is a nice perk – hotels I typically stay in are not outfitted with such amenities.

The conference has a run club at 9am each day, so it’s been interesting finding pace with people I don’t know, but it’s interesting sharing non-musical ground with music people. Perhaps it’ll firm up some new working relationships… perhaps I’m just running with some weirdos.

Being physically taken out of your comfort zone causes you to realize and rely on your emotional comfort zone. You can really learn a lot about yourself by changing one thing, even temporarily.