May 21, 2009
In the words of Doug H. being a musician takes three things, hard work, hard work, and more hard work. “Does anyone here love music?” Doug asked. Most of the audience replied yes, then Doug asked again, “Do you really love music? And I mean love. Not just, Oh yeah, I ‘love’ music.”
That glamorous life you have all heard about, it isn’t real. “About one in a million bands get the limousines, concerts, and money,” Doug said. If you truly enjoy making reckless, yet joyful noise on your instrument of choice then go for it. But if you really love it then you won’t just practice oh say, thirty minutes a day. Doug continued, “We’re talkin’ three to five hours a day and you practice that long because you feel like you need to.”
According to Doug H. as a musician you are never simply finished. There is always something to work on, something to improve. There are many reasons why you shouldn’t become a musician. It’s hard to pay rent et cetera. And it is extremely hard to “make it” as a fellow musician. If you are passionate about making and listening to music then all the fame, glory, and money shouldn’t matter. Some people may ask why you would “throw away” so much to be a musician, but it’s what you want and you do it because you love it.
February 25, 2009
One afternoon while coming down to my chilled basement of course to log on to the computer, I checked my email. Now in my inbox I had an email titled, “Mikey Way’s wife…” The first time I saw if I thought it said “Mikey Way’s life…” and let out gasp thinking he had died. Instead it was an email from my mother. She knows the My Chemical Romance obsesser that I am and told me a woman whom she works with used to go to school with her. Now this may be cool or uninteresting, but hey, I’m just here to write, so don’t hate on Mikey or the band. –The woman’s name is Tracey, and I’m guessing she is like 27 years old and what a teeny thing she is! Tracey has auburn, chin length hair, has great bone structure in her face, and has I’m guessing a small five foot five frame. She came with my mom, Roxann, and I to the Buzz Stole Christmas concert back in December.– Anyway, Alicia Simmons, Mikey’s wife, went to the same high school. My mom said Tracey thought she was a bit strange and possibly a druggie. Tracey was unsure that Alicia had grown up to marry an awesome bassist such as Mikey Way. Then she saw a picture of Mikey and Alicia together or read in article in a music magazine and could finally believe it. Now Tracey is from Grain Valley Missouri and that gave me, the Missouri girl I am (though I live more in the city), some hope. Heck, maybe I’ll marry the next Kurt Cobain but I hope he doesn’t shoot himself in the head or snort cocaine or do any sort of drug really. In fact maybe I’LL be the next (female) Kurt Cobain without the drugs and suicide.
February 16, 2009
I was thinking. If I was offered the opportunity to be a journalist for a music magazine (possibly Alternative Press or Rolling Stone) or to be a guitarist in an amazing band. Which would I choose? I had wanted to play guitar since I was nine years old. Practicing my air guitar in the privacy of my own room, completely spazing. Or pouring my guts out with ink and paper in hopes of becoming an utterly brilliant writer.
Being in a band would be quite interesting. I’d enjoy the fun questionnaires you get in interviews and your “humble” opinion on things. Looking super fierce in when you play live so you can intimidate people. Or to be some coffee drinking freak, blinded from the sun, glued to your computer, writing obsesser. Wearing T-shirts and tight jeans, strutting around like you know what you’re doing. Reader, does that thought ever cross your mind? I wonder where life will take me quite often. Who will I end up being in the next couple of years (I’m hoping I’ll stay true to who I am now.)?
Reader, let’s be honest. Would either of those jobs fully satisfy me? I seem to be quite an undecided person. I purchase an item at a store. “I love it! I’m so happy I bought it!” The next twenty minutes. “What the heck did I just waste my money on?! I could have bought ‘such and such’.” Yep, that is me. Being on the road with a band would be fun for a while. Awake at all hours, doing what you love, traveling, and playing shows. My only problem? I get motion sickness. I’d practically be bulimic. Then the shows would get tiring, performing the same songs until you write a new one. I suppose I shouldn’t think so negatively, maybe I’d be able to make a big impact on a lot of kids. Then there is writing. After a while, what is there to talk about? You are usually seen with a pen in your hand or your eyes are burning from staring at a computer screen for so many hours.
I guess I can be quite the “party pooper”, but that’s just me my friend. You either do or don’t like me, I don’t care too much. Either one I’d love. Writing would be easier to handle, though I’d miss the comfort of my guitar, Bella, too much. The excitement of playing a gig and going crazy on stage sounds and looks intruiging. Who knows where the world might take me….
February 15, 2009
I’ve got an unquenchable feeling of uncertainty. I feel it when I fall asleep at night, I hope it will not wake up to it in the morning. I feel out of place with this feeling. Like I could use it to do something daring, something that the regular Phoenixx wouldn’t do. Maybe I’m just stressing myself out for no reason. Have you ever gotten the feeling where it feels like the skin over your ribcage is tightening? That happens to me when I’m hungry and occasionally when I’m stressing. I don’t understand myself fully. One day I’m, lighting the room with my smile, the next I’m sulking because I can’t find reason in ANYTHING. Some days I don’t know what I’m worried about. Though it could be everything. There is always something wrong with the picture you see. Whether it’s small or large, but the world is obviously an imperfect place.
Music is my cure for all of that. My medicine. My hate notes. My excitement. My everything. Music is there for me. If I’m happy I “head bang” to some Paramore, if I’m feeling angry I turn on My Chemical Romance’s first album (“I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love”) and blast “Our Lady of Sorrows” while screaming the lyrics. If I’m feeling whimsical and lighthearted I might fancy for some MGMT or Vampire Weekend. If I want to dance I’ll turn on the Gym Class Heroes. Feeling indie, maybe Radiohead, Straylight Run, or Lovedrug. Needing to relax I’ll play my Feist (“The Water” is my personal favorite). Anberlin just makes me want to take a minute and think about the lyrics then get back up and jump around. The Academy Is… is a good definition of pop punk. Punk but not to ranting instead, poppy, definitely something you could jump to. Maybe I should just turn on some music. Though it will only push back problems, but maybe that’s what I want.
“You gotta swim, and swim when it hurts.” — Jack’s Manequinn
“Can’t walk it off, can’t come clean.” — Lovedrug