Working The Day Job

I've come to the decision that when I am ready to form a band, I will keep it amateur and work with people who have proper day jobs. At the moment I'm listening to a band called Arcana, which is apt because Arcana all have serious day jobs, such as university lecturer and head of marketing. They're professionals yes, but they're not music professionals. I'm sure that Arcana generates a decent income, but principally they're making their money elsewhere. I'm not naive enough to think that they're simply making music for love not money, but if there wasn't an element of that somewhere then they probably wouldn't find the time or the inclination to do it.

This is important to me because I've come to the conclusion that my differences with "professional" musicians are irreconcilible. I watched a documentary at the weekend about the putting together of a Sgt Pepper tribute album, which involved contemporary bands each recording a version of a Sgt Pepper song. I was paying particularly close attention to how professional musicians and producers conduct themselves in the studio, as I don't have that much direct experience of recording studios (apart from a music course I did a few years ago). What I found was that the ways in which they communicated are radically different from how I want to communicate with musicians I am working with. There are no specific examples that I can give; just a general sense that the lines of communication are experience- and industry-specific. Producers in particular speak and make in-jokes in cynical and weather-beaten tones that simply have no place in what I want to do. As their job title specifies, producers have made a clear and decisive choice in favor of productivity over potential, and will defend that choice with everything they have.

I know that this is the reality of the music industry, but it is a reality that I want to challenge and change. Because as far as I can see, there can be simply no excuse for the lack of an inspiration ethic. Industry-specific cynicism and frames of reference are no acceptable substitute, simply by virtue of the fact that they are divisive...ie, they draw up clear lines of distinction between those who are in the industry and those who are not. There's a similar thing in mental health: service providers vs service users, and in the adult industry too: smut peddlers vs wankers. There can be simply no excuse or justification for divisive forces at the expense of unifying forces. Professionalism may masquerade as an excuse, but it isn't. Yes there are industry-specific experiences that only the professionals have, but there are also universal experiences that we all have, and the latter are more important. And there are too many professionals who, upon becoming professionals, lose all respect for non-professionals who thus become "the market". So many musicians lose touch with the art and experience of listening, and that is unforgivable. Yes they'll listen to other people's music, but they'll listen almost exclusively as musicians and not as listeners.

If I work with musicians, I don't want to exchange knowing looks or weather-beaten in-jokes with them. I want to make them feel like the most creative and inspired musicians in the world. If I use sign and gesture to help me accomplish this, I want to do so in such a way that really makes the musicians feel as though we're doing something special and unique. Even if my technique isn't very good, the intention and the passion will be there, and that is what should count above all else. I want the creation of music to be less like a studio experience, and more like a religious experience. The clue's in the "creation" bit.

So I figure I'd be best off doing this with non-music professionals, as I figure that professionals in other industries might be in need of a decent excuse to put professionalism on the back burner for a while. Of course they will still be professional, but it is not a professionalism that is specific to the music industry, or to "making it" in the music industry. I'm particularly interested in musicians who went into non-musical industries largely because they share the same concerns about "music professionalism" that I have. I'm also interested in affiliated professions such as music teacher or music therapist, as I figure that a music therapist might give me a lot more leeway to experiment and explore than a music professional would. The important thing is to maintain the passion, enthusiasm and most of all the universal-ness of what it is that I'm trying to do. And if amateurism is a means of putting one foot in either camp and looking to build bridges between the two, then maybe that's the way forward.

Stick Technique

Wow, really got into the conducting tonight. It's only basic patterns that I'm learning, but I started to feel it and that's the main thing. I'm not worried too much about the fineries of technique as I know that will never be my strong suit. Of course technique is important, but if I worry too much about the correctness of technique then I'll go exactly the same way that I did with instruments. And at the end of the day I'm not looking to conduct orchestras; I'm simply looking to develop an interpretive and expressive language that will enable me to channel ideas in my head without using instruments or any other physical entity. And what really got me passionate about it tonight was that as I was nailng the beats in front of the mirror, I felt the music in my head being "shaped" accordingly. And I'm like "Damn, this shit works!"

Found some interesting conducting stuff on YouTube too. There's this one guy who conducts a jam band, and alternates between conducting the band and conducting the audience. Which is great, and pretty similar to what I want to do. My idea was always theoretical though, with artist and audience more as abstract concepts. But it got me thinking though: could I do it live? I'd have to get really good at it first, which I reckon would take me about 5 years or so. (Great to have a 5-year project to work on. Should keep any suicidal thoughts at bay). But watching this guy do his thing, I started to think that maybe I could do it live. And I started to envisage it...the different positions I would adopt, the different perspectives I would filter through position, the different and creative things I would use as interchangeable "batons" (I'm thinking firesticks!). It's definitely a possibility.

What mattered tonight was that, for the first time in a long time, I felt confident. I even smiled at myself in the mirror as I was practising my stick technique. I don't think I've ever smiled at myself in the mirror before. Maybe it's because I've got something else to look at!

Grasping The Baton

Brilliant..I am now officially a conductor! Well not really...I've just finally got round to the inevitable and understood that what I want to do in music has many parallels with conducting, and also that the "space" I intend to occupy (ie, between artist and audience) is similar to that of a conductor. And since I want to communicate music indirectly through hand gestures and the like, it seems like the obvious path for me to take. Now there are sharp differences between my thing and conducting; the principle difference being that "my thing" is coming from a completely different place and has been developed for completely different reasons. But teaching myself the fundamentals of conducting will give me the kind of classical and practical grounding that I've never really had, and that I think musicians have always resented me for.

So I finally got round to reading some introductory conducting literature tonight. Nothing too heavy...just the wikipedia entry and a chapter from an essay. And what I noticed was that the more I read, the more I started to get the feeling that "I can do this". Now because of my problems with co-ordination, dexterity and general "object engagement", I've never had that "can-do" experience with anything musical before. But I had it tonight. And I also got the feeling that many of the ideas I have about music exist in conducting already. At times it felt like I was reading something that was written in my language, and I very rarely get that experience too.

So why has it taken me so long to come round to the idea of conducting? Well, a couple of things really. Firstly, I always thought of a conductor as a highly skilled classical musician who must prove himself as a musician first, rather than simply being "one who conducts". But since I don't want to make classical music, this really shouldn't be as much of a problem as I always thought it was. And secondly, I did not feel comfortable with the idea of myself as some sort of "musical director". I felt that, as a non-musician with no discernible musical skills, "musical director" would be claiming for myself a title to which I did not deserve, and could not possibly justify to seasoned and experienced musicians. But I am now comfortable with the knowledge that what I want to do isn't "me the director, you the directed to". It is simply a question of direction.

Anyway, I'll write more when I have read more and learned more. This post was simply to make the declaration in order to hold myself to it.

Facing The Music

Ok so it's time I nailed this once and for all: I am a maker of MUSIC. So what if my method isn't conventional, and if to others it's barely comprehensible. It is what it is, and it's mine.

This came to a head tonight, and in a way I'm glad it did. I got very agitated about someone coming round tomorrow, as I don't get to see too many people too often. So I'm scampering around my head at my usual million miles an hour, fretting about how I'm going to handle the whole situation. Broadly speaking, I have 3 different techniques to try and reduce my anxiety. The first is to stay on top of it and "hold my nerve", so to speak. The second is to let go and try to keep the thoughts as dim and distant as possible. And the third is simply to surrender to it and accept it; the theory being that if I'm upset about it then I'm not scared. The comfort of being sad I suppose.

But what happens in heightened states of anxiety is that while my thoughts are racing, the 3 techniques are all contradicting each other and vying for supremacy inside my head. The net result is that none of the above can ever truly take hold, because there are always agitated forces within me compelling me to settle in a different frame of mind instead. And of course, the fatal flaw with all of the above is that while I'm using these techniques to try and control my anxiety, then I'm thinking about it all the time.

So tonight I was racking my brains, and it drove me to the edge of despair. Yes these techniques reduce my anxiety, but what will make it go away? And then it hit me: the music does. The music in my head makes it all go away. So then I started to listen, and it all came flooding back. When I listen to the music in my head, I'm not anxious anymore. When I listen to the music in my head, no-one...no anxiety, no people, no expectations, can touch me. Because when I'm listening to the music in my head, I'm not listening to the voices. I'm listening to the voice.

And armed with this not-so-new realisation, it suddenly occurred to me just what an immense privilege it is to hear music in my head. I'm almost ashamed to say that I'd never thought of it like that before. Because it's always been such a noose around my neck, I've always considered it more of a curse than a blessing. But think about it: I have a schizoid mind, yet that schizoid mind is prevented from becoming schizophrenic by music. Music is the glue that holds it all together, and without that glue I fall apart. And that's when it hit me, for the first time in years, just what an immensely powerful tool I have here. And I have to say that it re-ignited something within me that really should never have gone out.

It seems to me that fragmentative illnesses such as schizophrenia can only truly be cured by universals. That is to say, the stuff that addresses each of the fragments, while retaining the constancy of the core message. The idea being that although you're addressing the many, you're simultaneously addressing the one. And as far as I can see, there are three such universals in life. The first is love, but unfortunately universal love is something that many fragmented minds have little or no first-hand experience of. Maybe it has been offered to them, but for whatever reason they have felt unable or unwilling to accept. The second universal is math, and by that I mean math in it's purest and most mystical form. Now while there is no denying that such math holds a peculiar fascination for the fragmented mind, it can also be a bit too complicated for tired minds to get around.

And the third universal? That'll be music then.

(Not) Taking The Medicine

I'm relieved to discover that taking less of the anti-epilepsy medicine is having a beneficial effect on my sleeping hours. (This is going to be the last mention of sleep, as Adsense is beginning to misrepresent the nature of this blog). I've been meaning to cut down on that stuff for a while now, as I'm sure that the intensity it gives me has contributed to the collapse of my nervous system.

I've been taking anti-epilepsy medication since I was 14, so it's over 16 years now. I don't have seizures anymore, but I do get dizzy spells whnenever I've tried to come off it completely. The main reason I continue to take it is for concentration, and maybe as a mood stabilizer although I'm not sure about that. But it does make me feel intense, and I don't like to see that in myself. Compromise and moderation are always good (?), so less has to be more.

I've got a good regime going today. Pushing up when I want to, and dropping down when I have to, and not really feeling the effects of the exertion. That's how it should be...smooth, fluid and inherently musical.