is not being in one.
Years ago - post-Nixon and pre-Reagan - I was lucky enough to be in some bands with people who were not just inspired performers and songwriters, but who were also fiercely dedicated to making a living at it. And we actually did. But a big part of what made that even possible was because we were young enough to exist on almost nothing. At times, we lived four, five, even ten to a house, splitting rent and utilities and groceries, pitching in for gas and maintenance on cars and vans along the way. Speaking for myself, I walked a lot, and I went for a couple of years without spending more a few bucks a day on food. Ever.
So, under those conditions, being a "professional musician" was feasible, even when we only had a handful of paying gigs a month. Plus we played on the street regularly, and became proficient at getting folks to open their wallets.
But it was still grueling, because what we all really wanted was for something Big to happen. And when nothing did, the bickering began. As I've said elsewhere, being in a working band is like the worst parts of a marriage and a small business.
Fast forward: some of us persisted and found ways to make some kind of living from music. Some eventually said to hell with it and pretty much stopped playing. Me, the most money I ever made from playing music in any given year was around $200, which paid for a red Mexican Telecaster that was my main guitar for a little while.
But I was proud - I AM proud - to have never become an ex-musician.
I've been playing with my current band, The Waterdogs, with pretty much the same personnel, since, oh, 1997? Wait, is that right? Sixteen years? We have never really gigged much, because as middle-aged guys with day jobs, the prospect of competing with 22-year-olds for the privilege of playing to a mostly empty bar on a Tuesday night holds little appeal. So what perfomances we've done have been mostly block parties and school fund-raisers, where the pay is often in hot dogs and beer. But the hours and working conditions are good - generally weekend afternoons, outside.
And when you're playing just for pleasure, with no realistic prospects of fortune or fame, there is generally less stress. I say generally, since where there are people, there are egos, and where there are egos, there is stress. So, after all these years, The 'Dogs are going through some more changes, and the future is uncertain.
But then, when is the future ever certain?
In any event, I thought this would be a good time to share a lovely song of my long-time musical comrade's, Kurt Regas. Recorded by us nearly fourteen years ago, but still fresh. We use only the finest ingredients.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hBWM4JQ_ANc
Years ago - post-Nixon and pre-Reagan - I was lucky enough to be in some bands with people who were not just inspired performers and songwriters, but who were also fiercely dedicated to making a living at it. And we actually did. But a big part of what made that even possible was because we were young enough to exist on almost nothing. At times, we lived four, five, even ten to a house, splitting rent and utilities and groceries, pitching in for gas and maintenance on cars and vans along the way. Speaking for myself, I walked a lot, and I went for a couple of years without spending more a few bucks a day on food. Ever.
So, under those conditions, being a "professional musician" was feasible, even when we only had a handful of paying gigs a month. Plus we played on the street regularly, and became proficient at getting folks to open their wallets.
But it was still grueling, because what we all really wanted was for something Big to happen. And when nothing did, the bickering began. As I've said elsewhere, being in a working band is like the worst parts of a marriage and a small business.
Fast forward: some of us persisted and found ways to make some kind of living from music. Some eventually said to hell with it and pretty much stopped playing. Me, the most money I ever made from playing music in any given year was around $200, which paid for a red Mexican Telecaster that was my main guitar for a little while.
But I was proud - I AM proud - to have never become an ex-musician.
I've been playing with my current band, The Waterdogs, with pretty much the same personnel, since, oh, 1997? Wait, is that right? Sixteen years? We have never really gigged much, because as middle-aged guys with day jobs, the prospect of competing with 22-year-olds for the privilege of playing to a mostly empty bar on a Tuesday night holds little appeal. So what perfomances we've done have been mostly block parties and school fund-raisers, where the pay is often in hot dogs and beer. But the hours and working conditions are good - generally weekend afternoons, outside.
And when you're playing just for pleasure, with no realistic prospects of fortune or fame, there is generally less stress. I say generally, since where there are people, there are egos, and where there are egos, there is stress. So, after all these years, The 'Dogs are going through some more changes, and the future is uncertain.
But then, when is the future ever certain?
In any event, I thought this would be a good time to share a lovely song of my long-time musical comrade's, Kurt Regas. Recorded by us nearly fourteen years ago, but still fresh. We use only the finest ingredients.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hBWM4JQ_ANc
1 comment:
Love it! Great harmonica.
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