*an inconsolable longing for we know not what.
The life of a singer/songwriter. ZenZuct.
Maggie and I shared a recording studio yesterday with another musician and two studio engineers to remember the life of a long-time supporter of the arts. The local public radio station wanted a memorial to play in this man’s weekly time slot so we spent that time talking about what he has done for the arts – mostly music, but theater and so many other things as well.
We all like to think of our craft as important, our music all top shelf. But without supporters, avid listeners who show up on cold, rainy nights, keeping the concert hall open and filling the tip jar, we’d be busking on the street corner. Or our guitar would be in the closet or a pawn shop.
Every time I hear someone bragging about making a living at music I know there is, almost always, a partner, a mate, a parent who is working hard to make that happen. We all like to pretend we’re Lady Gaga, but we ain’t.
This is an art form that takes a lot of support. On the road it’s the next gig, a friendly fan who gives up a back bedroom, a moldy van parked in the side yard. It’s the people who promote your show and stir the community, because nowadays its so very easy for an audience to just stay home.
The 50 inch TV, a good and easy meal and a drink, and the chance to kick off your shoes and settle in for the night closes as many venues as BMI and ASCAP. Building a good audience (one that listens) is difficult, but without that basic construct you’ll have a packed hall one night and an empty one the next.
Venues can’t take that.
People who support music, who get up from the chair and go out to spend a few bucks for the chance to listen to something new are a rare commodity for singer/songwriters. They share that sehnsucht. We have to notice them, and know why they’re sitting there in those uncomfortable chairs.
They’re looking for something, too.
So give back. Wander through the crowd on break and get to know those people who come out rather than stay home.
I’m a little melancholy today because we lost a good one this week and he’ll be missed. He was there for the shows, eyes closed….listening. He forked up money for our weekly ads in the newspapers and had us on his radio show more times than was necessary because he believed in us.
Another singer/songwriter once leaned over to me after a multi-band show and said, “You know why we all fight each other so much in this business? It’s because the stakes are so low.”
Hug a patron and try harder. This is what I thought as we left the studio last night.
Thanks, Peter Michael, and goodbye.
— Mike
