What it means to dream

I didn't get to listen to as much music as I usually do this morning. As much as I can lately I have been trying to edit doctoral students' dissertations on the side for extra money. It's boring work, and I generally don't understand anything I'm reading. Luckily for me, I don't have to--my job is to correct the grammar and make sure the punctuation is okay and the paper flows from paragraph to paragraph. Again, not the mostest funnest job out there, but it costs money to pursue my music dreams and this is an easy way to rake in a little extra cash.

Just a quick word about chasing dreams. I am not that talented of a singer or musician. I'm really not. I think I have a knack for hearing melodies and stringing together chord progressions and concocting songs out of them. I think I am musically inclined. But I am an average guitarist with an average voice. I have no deep knowledge of music theory and I tend to go by ear. My whole music career, beginning with my Old Janx Spirit days in Ithaca, there have always been other singers with a lot better voices, guitarists with faster fingers, and bands who have risen to popularity with greater ease. I am not selling myself short; this is just the truth.

The thing is, though, it's so often not about talent. Yes, you need aptitude, and you need basic ability, but after that it's all heart. And drive. And more than anything, perseverance.

I recently heard that the best way to "win," if you will, is to keep plugging away at something, because humans, by nature, are quitters. So all you really have to do is work on your craft and never stop, and at some point, by default, you will reach the top simply because you'll be the last one standing. I like to believe this is true.

I have had many bandmates in my lifetime. Not all, but many of them were (or are) far better musicians than I. But at the same time, most all of them bailed along the way, or found other avenues to pursue, while (Ben and) I have kept plodding forward. I am not passing judgment on those who, over the years, abandoned their dreams--many have good reasons for doing so. My only point is to say that there is something to be said for having a one-track mind, a single destination circled on the map.

I am a realist, too. I know I will never win a Grammy. Nor walk on the moon. And try as I might, I will never be good at math. I do not believe that a person can do anything to which he sets his mind. That's bullshit that we tell kids to instill confidence and inspire them to reach for the stars. What I want to do is sustain myself for the rest of my life through music. And as long as I keep working on my craft, day in and day out, I will achieve this. I know I will. Over time, I have learned to embrace the voice I do have and make it work for me. I know I will never play Eddie Van Halen solos, but I am most certainly a competent rhythm guitarist. And while I have written boatloads of awful songs in my day, I have begun to write some decent ones and know I have even better ones inside me just waiting to spring forth one day.

As long as I keep at it. Which I will.

Chasing dreams and refusing to give up is not an easy thing to do. It usually means you are willing to let other things in life that you love take a backseat. But there is no other way. You must be stubborn. I know there are people out there who find me maddeningly, and heartbreakingly stubborn, as I tend to insist on walking my own roads and seeing things through until I am sure it will either work, or never work. But this is the only way I know. So I must trust myself.

Anyway. If you have a dream, and in your heart of hearts you are sure you can achieve it, do not give up. On most days you will want to do just that--give up. On most days you will feel all alone. But don't give up. If you want to play music, play music every day. If you want to "make it," you have to get out there as much as you can. Don't make excuses. No one discovers you sitting on your couch. If you have a great voice and can play a mean piano or guitar or you draw well or paint like Ram Dass and no one knows it but your friends and family who will ALWAYS lie to you and blow sunshine up your ass, you will never make it. Unless you have the voice of Alicia Keys and are THAT good, you will waste away in anonymity lest you get out there all the time. There will always be excuses.

See, as much as I say that I have been working toward my dream for years and years, I know deep down I have done so with varying degrees of sincerity. I, for years, was a couch-sitting singer/songwriter. Granted, I had paused to try my hand at writing fiction, but the fact is that I wasted several years floundering when I could have been even further along now had I not. I am not happy about that choice, but it is over and done with. Can't get those years back. What I can do, though, is learn from my mistakes and trudge forward.

Jo Henley, my band, is not where we want it to be. Yet. We can't fill the largest rooms even here in our hometown. But the past year has been kind to us because every single day we work on it. Every morning I wake up and begin to think about what I can do for the band today. I spend any extra (and even non-extra) money on promotion, recordings, press kits, photographers, travel, etc. I am always working on songs throughout the day. I have few close friends and go to few social events outside of gigs--and I still don't work as hard as I have to. Oh, I know I work hard. Very hard. Most nights I rest easy knowing that I couldn't have worked any harder that day. Yet I didn't work hard enough.

About six years ago, Ben and I met with a booking agent at a local bar. We had just cut a duo demo and were starting to book some shows around town. The booking agent asked us if we were looking to do whatever it took to make it, or were we looking to just play around town on the weekends and do it on the side. That absolutely terrified me, because even though I knew I didn't want to be a weekend warrior, I knew could honestly say I was willing and able to do ANYTHING. It just so happened that this woman was in no position to do anything for us even if I was ready to sell everything I owned and jump in a van. Still, the question she posed haunted me.

Someone close to me asked me the same thing even just two years ago, and while my answer was closer to what I would have wanted it to be, I still had too many "yeah buts" in there. Excuses are excuses. Now, I don't feel that way. I am older and wiser now and understand that unless you have some financial backing there is no way you can sustain a life by simply jumping in a van and playing gigs all over the place without a business model in mind. You still need to be smart about it. But I know now that I am in a place where I can look at myself in the mirror and know I am working as hard as I can toward my dreams and am willing to make tough decisions as a result.

And the best part? Doubters. We all have doubters. Doubters are everywhere. Doubters are also my biggest driving force. I find motivation in those who doubt. Tune out your friends, family, and loved ones who tell you how great you are. Those are empty compliments. For example, a few months ago we got a review of our latest album where the music was given high praise and my lyrics were trashed. This has been our only bad review, and in fact many reviewers have gone out of their way to compliment my lyrics. But those nice, positive reviews mean nothing to me. In fact, I never even read them a second time. But bad reviews? I'll memorize them. And now I am taking great care to ensure my lyrics are as strong as they possibly can be.

The moral? Don't give up. Let everyone else give up. If you want something badly enough, just keep fighting for it.

'K, I'm stepping down from my soapbox now...

Here's what I listened to today:

Billy Joel, "Just the Way You Are": Late this summer, I had fallen asleep on the couch, as I tend to do every night, and when I awoke in the middle of the night PBS was airing a Billy Joel concert from the '70s, from his "The Stranger" tour, and this was the song he was singing at the time. I have a lot going on inside me that provoked an emotional response right then, and could devote a few thousand words to that moment of waking up and hearing that song, but that's not important. It was Billy on the Rhodes with his coked-out eyes and amazing song and tight band and unreal vocal performance. He sang this song so effortlessly and the mood of it, at 3am, hit me hard.

Dr. Dre, "Still Dre": This came out years ago as the follow-up to "Dre. Day," off The Chronic. It's a strong, catchy track that recalls the best of The Chronic and Snoop's Doggystyle. Those two record, in particular, are amazing. The beats are laid back but heavy, and Dre put tasty '70s funk, solo, and disco samples over those beats to create this ethereal mood over which to showcase Snoop's and even his own vocals. You think I move around on the T when Merle Haggard comes on? You should see me when I listen to "Gin and Juice." I must look like I'm on my way to a mental ward.

Drive-by Truckers, "The Opening Act": If you are in a band, or have ever been in a band, that's been working hard out there to pay its dues in empty clubs, staring down empty roads and eating bad gas station food, then you simply must hear this song. It is a masterpiece.

Chris Isaak, "Pretty Girls Don't Cry:" Personally, for me, I would rather have nails driven through my palms than have to spend a week on a tropical beach. A day or two might be cool, I suppose, but the idea of kicking back and relaxing on a sandy beach with an umbrella drink appeals to me about as much as dog food does. A cruise? Are you freaking kidding me? No way. Put me in the middle of a city with chaos around me. Or at least don't make me have to sit somewhere all day. Anyway, I say that because this song, and in fact this whole album, makes me rethink my above position. Recorded somewhere on the beaches near the California/Mexico border, it just sounds warm and peaceful, and well, relaxing. Chris Isaak is good shit. "Wicked Games" is still, to my ears, the sexiest song of all time (the video helps a lot, I'll admit...). I still would rather eat glass than go on a cruise, but this album is glorious.

John Mayer, "3X5": The dudes catches a lot of heat by the haters, and a lot of it deservedly so--he is terribly awkward to watch and does seem to gravitate toward celebrity babes (wow, what a loser)--but it's hard to ignore his talents. JM can write good songs, play mean solos, and has a good voice. (Asshole.) Not all of his stuff is breathtaking, but when he's on he's really on. "3X5" is one of those songs that has been implanted into my DNA. The chords, the melody, the lyrics--they are so deeply ingrained into my subconscious that I have found myself rewriting the song accidentally without even meaning to.

Waylon Jennings, "I'm a Ramblin' Man": Waylon Jennings makes John Mayer sound like a five-year-old girl in a hot pink leotard. He sound like a Harley. A leather jacket. A bar brawl. The inside of a whiskey bottle. He never had the best voice, technically speaking, but that rich, canyon-deep baritone and kiss-my-ass delivery of his is unparalleled. I am a fan of a lot of Waylon's work, but this song is the one that gets often stuck in my head (with "Luchenback, Texas" a close second).

Grateful Dead, "Been All Around this World": I love Jerry Garcia. Perfect example of a great singer with a weak voice. This song makes me want to take a nap--and I mean that as high praise; naps, to me, are punishment (see Chris Isaak above). This song is why I simply had to see the Blue Ridge Mountains this summer. If you don't own Reckonings, you should. And as soon as you do you will know exactly what Jo Henley's blueprint is.