Future of Music: What Are We Doing Out Here?

When I step back and consider this desire for an encore career in music, I quickly find that I have no idea what we’re doing out here.

What I did this past week was take a list of 65 songs, some of the best I’ve written so far, and whittle it down to 45 that I want to keep “performance ready” to play live.

Then I spent the week rehearsing them.

On most of the songs, I sound pretty good.

The seasoning I got this summer from playing so many live open mics is evident.

The songs are tightening up, and I’m working through things that have bothered me about their structure or lyrics.

This week, I’ll rehearse them again.

But then what?

I’ve yet to break into the open mic scene in the SE, so that’s potentially on the radar.

However, I’m not in a rush to do this.

That was what the summer was meant to be all about, and this fall I’m wanting a different focus.

That said, I really do want to pick one open mic and attend it each week.

It will help me stay stage-ready, which is different from rehearsing alone.

Once you add an audience and plug into a PA system, things get more interesting.

The stakes are higher, and you feel that energy and the nerves that can accompany it.

Luckily, I’m pretty comfortable being on stage by myself and playing the tunes.

It’s those first couple of minutes when you get called up to the stage that are tricky.

One musician is putting their stuff away, and room is being made for you and your instrument. It’s a bit awkward.

It’s not like when you see one of your favorite musical artists and they hit the stage with pizzazz.

Okay, one open mic per week.

But then what?

Last night, my music coach and I discussed this. I wanted his take on it.

He’s an incredibly gifted guitarist who has played side by side with some of the greatest musical artists of our time.

He agrees that breaking into a music career is extremely challenging.

His advice?

Don’t do it.

Just stay an amateur.

That’s what he’s doing now, too.

He went and got a job as a schoolteacher, a 9-to-5, 40-hour-per-week career, so that he could have his nights and weekends free to do what he wants, rather than taking on gigs to pay the bills.

What is this called? Shifting from a vocational pursuit to an avocational pursuit?

Bottom line, he has decoupled his music from the need to support his lifestyle.

Another musician I got to know this summer was giving me similar advice based on his own life experiences.

He decided to go “all in” when he was younger.

He ended up getting a divorce so that he wouldn’t have the responsibilities of marriage or a family hanging over his head.

He pushed himself and did the grind for a few years.

Then one day, he kind of woke up and said, “What are we doing out here?”

He told me about his aunt and uncle, who made documentary films. Once,

he told his aunt that he hoped he would have a really cool job or career like theirs when he got older.

His aunt told him to try never to make his passion his vocation.

That conversation came back to him as he was doing the opposite of what she had advised.

So he packed up and put away his ambitions to be a “star” in music.

He was even able to convince his ex-wife to take him back, and he seems to have lived happily ever after.

Thus, the next step my music coach and I agreed made sense was to re-record my scratch demos of the songs I want to publish.

And what did I leave in the PNW?

My recording equipment.

Rats.

That’s alright. I’m going back for a week later this fall and will get it then.

In the meantime, I can make simple phone-memo recordings and see how they sound.

Okay, re-record your best songs.

Then what?

Yeah, I don’t know.

Here’s the thing. I spent many years working as an expert in my career field, and it was plug-and-play.

Meaning, I didn’t need to create much of an offering or worry much about infrastructure.

Nor did I need to wait around long before there was “work to do” or go out and convince people to use my services.

My biggest challenges were getting hired by the organization, learning “the ropes” of that organization, building and sustaining good working relationships with people on my team and elsewhere in the organization who mattered to what I was there to do.

and making sure I could credibly describe how I’d added value over the past year when performance-review time came around.

Yuck, hated that part.

From a distance, it seems simple now.

It wasn’t, nor did it feel that way at the time.

But compare that with “entrepreneurship,” for lack of a better term.

That’s what’s needed if I’m going to have my songs played for people regularly.

I’ll have to put together an attractive offer.

And that is the rub.

Do I want to cross the Rubicon in that way?

For example, do I want to go to a coffee shop or a wine bar and pitch them on letting me set up a little performance space in the corner and play my songs for patrons?

There are a ton of first steps I’d need to take to get to that point.

And I’m not sure it’s even what I want.

Perhaps I need a bigger why?

That seems to be the case.

It’s interesting.

I have no idea what I’m doing out here with any of these projects in progress.

And for now, that’s okay.