Feel the Fear But Do It Anyway

It feels as though everyone I know in Los Angeles is an artist of sorts. Probably the largest percentage of people I know are musicians. Are we a unique population?

We've come from all over the world to live on the West Coast, to pursue our dreams, yes, but to live the Creative life.

This has left many of us financially insecure, and in potentially very vulnerable situations.

Yet we venture on. We write songs. We perform them wherever we can be seen and heard. And many times our audiences are our peers.

Where do we think this will get us? Do we dream of being "discovered?" Does this mean a tour? Distribution?

A movie or television song placement?

And who knows if any of this is possible, now, especially with the growing presence of AI music, and the usual catering to the youngest possible consumer generation.

As many parents may have warned us, we may be committing grave folly in daring to make and perform our own material. Did our parents hope that we would grow out of this? Is there an age at which it is an embarrassment to be playing in a band?

I question myself and my motives, but usually at that 4am mark, when I am stone cold alive and filled with fear. Fear of what is going on in the world that is beyond my control. Fear of periodontal disease, or hearing loss, or even fear of looking like an imposter or an idiot. The worst fear is being socially irrelevant. A songwriting client of mine once said, "I want to keep writing songs and I want to release recordings, but what if the kids don't like them? What if I can't reach them?"

The music industry is grotesque in its pursuit of youth. Could any 14 to 20 year old really sing the blues the way an old man can? Doesn't music belong to everyone? Is music simply for the purpose of selling sexy product? Or selling sexy hotel stays and fashion starved kids lounging, in stoner fashion, languidly marveling at their own twenty something beauty?

The age thing, like the gender thing, like the preference thing is, in my opinion, just another way to sort us all out like socks in drawers.

My rebellion is to say FUCK THAT. When we make music, we transform. We are ageless. We are carrying spirit. We are uniting people, not classifying them.

Still the old fears may persist. Why don't you just give it all up? What do you really have to say? And if you are a songwriter who never wanted to be entertainment for dancing couples, but wanted perhaps to suspend people in a room, hanging on a phrase, is there any space for you any more? Are you just three and some minutes on a playlist? A playlist that feels anonymous and there for the purpose of soothing or distracting or energizing, the way a smoothie works or a power bar?

But I am ranting.

The truth is: I am going to release an album. I am calling it THE REALLY REAL.

It has taken two years. I hunkered down and ended up writing about loss. It just came out of me, as I recovered from the death of a great feline, Henry James, who fought lymphoma, pancreatitis, diabetes, and ultimately a heart condition and lived fully up his his last evening.

I have one concert. Hotel Cafe in Hollywood. Hotel Cafe is relocating after a tear-down in its current location, so it feels fitting to perform these songs there.

My intention is to tell you more about these songs, and about the music made.

But this, today, is a start.

As has been said, so many times: Feel the Fear. And do it anyway.

Thank you for reading.