Why

I was with a friend last night and I was explaining how I lose quite a bit of money on every show I play. The way that it works is that I play with some very incredible professional musicians and these folks need to eat and this is what they do for a living. I am obsessed with creating an interesting live experience. And I have these fanciful notions and I get these whims where I hear or see a part of a different band and then I wonder how it would be to integrate that new sound or thing into my band and pretty soon the band swells in size and there is a trombone player and a saxophone player and a viola player and I love it that way. I love it that way because you can realize a bunch of different sonic ideas and because it feels like a big community when you’re up there and one of the big things I’m pursuing in the live experience is this communal feel of everyone jamming at the same time and everyone grooving and feeling different kinds of vibrations.

Now the downside of all of this is that putting on a full-scale TFC show is that it’s very expensive, particularly if you’re playing at great rooms like The Living Room or Rockwood where you’re working for tips.

So my friend said, “Why do you do it then? What’s the return?”

I suppose I got kind of defensive. A bit flustered.

Because I don’t really know the answer.

This thing. This art thing. It’s not a hobby. It’s not a side thing. Not for me. It’s a part of me. And I’m learning a way for this part of me to co-exist with the other parts of me in ways that don’t jeopardize the other parts and that allow each part to grow and sprout and wind their way through life like vines curled around window bars.

And yet, even though I kind of get blustery and porcupiny when music or art is referred to second-hand, it’s not something that has any real hope of providing a financial return in the near-term. As I’ve written, there is no model. This is not part of some Powerpoint presentation and Excel spreadsheet that predicts huge inflows of cash in 2011 if only the following growth rates materialize and my new product (read: album or something) takes off and becomes very popular indeed.

If I had to invent a model, not for others and not for some ponderous post on the “future of the music industry” which I care less and less about, then it would be something about attention slowly translating into revenue. And the model or the strategy or whatever would be a 10 to 15 year plan and I’d be entering year 2 of that plan and maybe the money would start appearing in years 3 or 4 when a carefully cultivated community created a kernel of attention that had enough power, even on a small scale, to occasionally cast out little lightning shots of awareness to people in music and television that were licensing songs and then those songs would be licensed and eventually there would be one or two things that made a couple grand and maybe there’s be a few shows that made a couple grand and sometime in years 5 or 6 or 7 the whole enterprise would break even and sustain itself.

Now if ever there was a time when this enterprise were to sustain itself, well, that would just be the bees knees.

But all of those notions are entirely fanciful and sprung like wild-assed dreams and notions. And the Buddha and the Zen of it all is that that is not the point and not the answer to the question of “Why”. Because if the point of why was to make money there are a number of ways I could invest this same dough that would provide more stable and consistent returns.

Of course, the why of why I’m doing this is, as I wrote yesterday, about this very moment itself. And that seems to be the only why that can provide any sustenance or nourishment at all. A few months ago I would say my goal was to get a Pitchfork review for my new record. And I still think the record is worthy. And I think it’s a little silly some of the stuff they choose to review ostensibly instead of my record which is very very good. But that’s not why.

Why is because we’ve made something good and worthwhile together, my mates and I. And why is because the last part of Broken Bow. And why is because singing Dirty White Coats. And why is because demo’ing new songs upstate and bringing them back and thinking about what they’ll sound like. And why is the excitement of adding a percussionist to the band for the shows at Pianos and Rockwood. And why is the posters that Chad is going to design that are going to be very beautiful to look at. And why is more videos with Monte. And why is one more great review. And why is some random person in New Orleans emailing me and telling me that they listened to Sarah’s podcast over and over and over so they could hear the stripped bare remix of “Dirty White Coats” and they almost started crying in their car.

That’s why.

Why

Leave a Reply