Beauty ,Ugly Truths and FOMO

The brutality of disappeared people is now less publicized, I have been told. It's nerve-wracking to consider what our tax dollars are financing. I imagine a whole list of ugly truths, many centered in protecting and enhancing the lives of the wealthiest of all of us. Rather than get ugly and argumentative, we pick our battles and preach to the choir.

Life is short, we say. I just don't want to know.

Some pick up the gauntlet and run with it. Others quietly pledge to vote and hope the divides will dissipate and that the money will flow as it should, that less will suffer. We want the wars to abate. We do not want to see children suffer, nor the elderly. The homeless we have grown inured to, in a sense. Drug-addled skinny raving trash dumping human beings seem to be so ever-present, and no one knows what to do with them.

Of course, there is so much beauty everywhere. There are hummingbirds and crapemyrtle trees and jacaranda and magnolia trees, bougainvillea everywhere, and poppies, and palm trees.

No matter how ugly we make parts of Los Angeles, Nature stages her quiet rebellion, giving us breath-taking sunrises and scarlet sunsets, trees, animals, verdant life.

I have days where I walk wherever I can to avoid the ugliness: the gang tags, the trash, the people lying on the street, or begging at Superior Grocery for food. I just don't want to get that saggy anxiety, the fatigue that comes with feeling "Same as it ever was."

I believe we crave beauty. We can't help it. And especially now.

I find myself clicking to buy a foundation that will give me the skin of a young Korean woman.

I catch myself in time and stop, but the more I look for beauty products, the more Instagram gives me options. Over and over. I look at vacation places. People in swim gear sipping wine.

Surfers and dogs on the beach. Boats. Then the desert and rock climbers . Cut to restaurants and food so much food so elegantly prepared. Bands playing and people dancing and drinking

enjoying themselves.

How many different ways can we enjoy ourselves?

Those who work "for the man" may think only of escaping it all, going somewhere beautiful.

In a sense, we have never had more possible beauty and fun. It seems there is no limit to what we can consume.

I look at all of the fun everyone seems to be having, on social media and understand why it's said that many who engage there suffer from depression or that infamous "Fear of Missing Out."

Someone has a gorgeous life. Someone is very successful. Someone is just drop dead gorgeous.

For women especially, beauty connects with music. We can't get enough of Taylor Swift, but it's not just her music. She always looks stunning. And she gives money away, so she must also be a very nice person. Or is she? Well, she is certainly everywhere on the Socials.

We can find plenty of ugly, plenty of hate on social media. But it seems that social media is evolving more and more into a giant showroom of possibility. If you buy this, your life will be more beautiful. There's no end to the horrors in this world, but equally there's no end to what you can have, if you can afford it.

Saturated with it all, my response is to try to disengage, though I worry I have become addicted. Addicted to the access, to the splendors and to the nightmares. To the breaking news that may not be news at all. To the fear of missing out, should I not check in more regularly than I would phone a friend or family member.

I pause and think WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING? When I reach for my phone too many times.

Is it a lifeline or a life suck?

This is an ongoing and evolving situation.

Maybe you have felt yourself wondering if you've become a bit Adult Attention Disordered.

It's enough to make me want to find a decent pub, and a couple of buddies and a World Cup game.

And thank God, we can, at least until mid-July!

Music, Politics and New Course

Just Come.

I'm always uncertain about everything, it seems, lately, and ready to jump ship. This week all I have thought about is being in Glasgow. A bit of rain, some small meat pie and a dark ale.

The smell of wet clothes and dogs.

I love California. I love Los Angeles. I love North Hollywood.

I have loved it for over 20 years, and that is a long time. I have ownership, and opinions. I get pissy about what I see. I even talk to myself. I say things like "OH COME ON!!" when I see mounds of trash, or a man collapsed on a mound of trash, his mouth open, his body so shrunken. I have no idea what to do about this.

Well, maybe I do need to phone my councilman and make an appointment.

I'm not a NIMBY. I swear. I love history, mom and pop restaurants, back yards, green space, neighbors I know, small markets, Trader Joe's, dog parks, In and Out Burger, Laemmle Noho Theater, The El Portal Theater, The Republic of Pie, Hayley's Wines, even The Noho Diner, Pitfire Pizza, and Granville. NOHO is supposed to be a Theater Arts District, so the more theaters the better.

What I don't like is the seemingly abandoned strip of Lankershim from Oxnard to Victory, where pandering and prostituting, litter, waste and utter filth clog the landscape. A lonely Starbucks and a Superior Grocery store that reeks of rotting food outside itself.

Meanwhile, developers are building homes east of Lankershim, sucking up space and providing no parking. Our street looks like a parking lot. It is becoming increasingly expensive to live on my block, which means no one is buying. Even renting is unaffordable.

What does this rant have to do with music and politics?

Much as I have refrained from reading papers and watching news, I feel politics. I see the effects of the budget cuts and the austerity, where I live. Sooner or later, laws enacted affect everyone's quality of life.

My tendency is to try to escape. Escape with music from another time, a time before I was alive and aware.

But friends. That isn't working. I don't want to get drunk, high, distracted. At the same time, I do not want to get angry, moody, bitchy, and overwhelmed.

What is social responsibility? What is survival? What is it to write and perform music that means something to someone else?

One word occurs: FREEDOM. Feeling free is a beautiful state of being. Cutting loose. Dancing without thinking. Laughing one's arse off. Watching something and getting lost in it. Doing a minimum thing. Like having an extra five bucks and giving it to someone who's looking for a meal.

Yeah, the big things are voting. Protesting maybe. Writing postcards. Calling reps.

But the biggest political musical life thing is to keep the energy up. Not to give up. To do the minimum, but to do it. Everybody doing the little things really does change the course.

There is LOVE and there is REST. Living is a balance of these two.

So much going on. So many people doing so many things. This is the excitement of living in one of the great cities of the world.

I am releasing a song this week, just before the 4th of July. It is called "The 25th Hour" and it is about that feeling that we are on the edge of something. It is about a feeling of isolation, in which friends don't pick up the phone, and everyone is aware of greed and power men taking more than their fair share.

But this song is a guitar jam, free style, a place to feel in a groove and play with heart, not knowing exactly where we are going but trusting in the rhythm.

To me, performing should contain an element of this freedom. Not knowing but ending up ok. Suspended in a groove with other people who are part of the performance and affecting what is played. You can't underestimate an audience. They affect everything the performers do.

Just the way constituents affect politics. We can't underestimate the value of being present, just showing up, being there.

A friend of mine recently confessed he would rather be playing his guitar than coming to watch someone else perform. This comment saddened me, because it implies that audience members are passive and not a part of the performance.

I would like to think I play differently depending on who is present. It's never the same, nor should it be, if it is a freeing thing.

The new course, I think, at least for me, is to recognise that I matter. This means it matters to others when I show up. I am not invisible and I am not without power. Listening is power. And performance, it could be said, is only a response to that generous act of others willing, waiting and excited to hear.

We have to believe that this is the best politics. And it is for all of us.

So come. Let's do this together.

Unique Unicorn Syndrome

Today, I was scrolling through Instagram, and I encountered a musical artist talking about the expenses of being on the indie circuit. "It's $500 for the band to stay in an Airbnb. It's $500 for the van and the gas. And I won't even mention the cost of merch, especially vinyl!" With this, she looked directly into the camera, and begged: "If you are thinking of coming out tonight to see us, please just come! Support Indie Artists! "

God knows if the band had also to pay for the venue, by pre-purchasing tickets. This is not uncommon anymore as we know. The blame is placed on COVID, still, and venues detail their struggles to stay open.

Another post from a very well-known commentator on the music business, estimated that it could cost as much as $200,000 for an independent artist to break through. You could read the comments and note how many agitated artists alluded that only NEPOs and the wealthy could afford to have a musical career.

The pressure on the singer-songwriter is great these days. Not only do songwriters have to hire band members and promote themselves. After all of this, they may have to deal with AI, who can appropriate their work, sight unseen, and use it to train their bots. The Artist isn't even compensated, and may have no idea how their work was located and used.

At one time, it would seem that a very few gifted writers were signed by the likes of Clive Davis (RIP) and "developed" as Artists. They were given an "advance" from which to draw funds to finance musicians, producer, even tour support and publicity.

Confidence came from this representation. The Artist could be the good guy. Staff around the artist handled his or her affairs, even her wardrobe, photography, videography. All of this took place before the "BRANDing" age, wherein an artist needed to sell herself as model, promoter of goods, touring artist, endorsee of products, shows, even possibly television or film actor. And you can bet the signing label got a piece of all of this activity.

The HAVES these days are hugely represented and have magnanimous teams around them, catering to the Artist's every whim. But this Artist, this Unique Unicorn, is now available 24/7. Social Media has turned the artist into a commodity that needs to be present and performing online in some fashion multiple times a day. In fact, the image of this Unicorn never leaves us, if we spend time online. Somewhere is Taylor Swift, always looking pretty cute, always doing the right thing, always saying just the right thing, always looking both innocent and relatable and hot. You have to wonder at the consistency of those good traits. It is both comforting to feel you know and like Swift, and disturbing, as you realise there was never a time in your life that you could look that great and be that much on point.

You're an independent artist and you might think you are UNIQUE. A UNIQUE UNICORN.

But you're probably not. Is this because you are untalented and unattractive and have nothing to say that anyone needs to hear? Hell no.

You're just in the pile. In this glut of Unicorns, your value is that you are willing to pay for the services of those who are making money from your concept of yourself as unique. You will finance your own uniqueness

Hence new industries have been born. In this DIY world, you can pay someone to produce your record. Or you can buy the software, and without even having to play an instrument you can use Ableton to make your own songs. You can pay placement companies to chart your Singles. You can pay musicians to play your songs. You can pay a venue to perform. You can even hire social media specialists to bump up your numbers on Spotify and elsewhere so that your songs will receive the number of likes they need to ascend you to the next level. You are, in essence, creating your own BRAND, with the notion that if you invest , you will be seen and signed by a corporation who will continue to do what you have been doing.

It is no wonder that real musicians tire of all of this, and make simple decisions.

Many people play with their friends at venues they know. Venues that are small, maybe divey, but personal, with fans who love the venue and know the bands. Many musicians hunker into a genre that people know and crave.

A friend of mine who was not a blues artist told me she became one. "That's where the work is," she says. " And I love singing the blues and my partner is a great blues guitarist." They have found blues festivals all across the country and tour for months on the road, meeting people and playing their own music as well as their favorite blues covers. No one judges them regarding their age or look or specialness. They have merged into a scene and complemented those venues who need them and seek to hire and pay them.

The conclusion I have come to is that sooner or later if you want to stay in the musical game you have to move away from the notion of the Unique Unicorn and find a home, a place where your music is accepted, known, needed. This doesn't mean that you as an artist are less yourself.

It means that we can wait to be "discovered" all our lives, when we know that most of these discoveries happen to children, not adults (from Alanis Morisette to Billie Eilish to Taylor Swift who began their careers at 9 or 10 years old) or we can keep throwing money at the wall, buying a career (which at the end of the day might feel like a Vanity Project) or we can find others like us, support them, and find a scene in which other artists are just as interesting and worthy as we are. This is not to insult anyone who has that unfortunate tendency to think like a singer-songwriter and not know what genre to fit into. Honestly, this would describe my own career, my entire life. Still, I would say, there are others out there with a similar problem who could benefit from some support and hopefully also offer it back.

I would sure like to think that this is how scenes with interesting, eccentric and important Unicorns could form the kind of clubs that could change music for the better. We desperately need a rebirth of the NEw in Los Angeles, a celebration of local artists of all ages who do not fit a mold, and have the energy and charisma to beat down AI with a healthy FUCK YOU. We're here, not leaving, and what a party.