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Rants
Below are the miscellaneous
opinions of one Dominic von Riedemann. These are his semi-coherent
thoughts on various subjects. These are not the opinions of
The Kindly Ones, and they're subject to change without notice,
whenever I change my mind (or just get a lube oil and filter).
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Rant#9: Talking With The
Band
(A rant Jeff sent me, about
how to influence people without making friends)
The best time to discuss anything with the band in any meaningful
way is at the middle of a song when all members are singing
at the same time [such as a multi harmony part]. Our hearing
is so advanced that we can pick out your tiny voice from the
megawatt wall of sound blasting all around us. Musicians are
expert lip readers too. If a musician does not reply to your
question or comment during a tune, take this very personally.
Singers have the ability to sprout a second mouth to talk
with you and sing at the same time; if the singer doesn't,
it's because they are purposely ignoring you; if this happens,
immediately cop an attitude. We love this. When an entertainer
leans over to hear you better, grab his or her head and yell
directly into their ear, holding their head so they cannot
pull away from you, this is an invitation to a friendly game
of tug of war between their head and your hands. Disregard
any respect for the musician's hearing.
REQUESTS
Musicians are expert mind readers. Only refer to your requests
with the phrase "Play my song!" We have a chip implanted
in our heads with an unlimited database with the favorite
tunes of every patron who ever walked into the bar, so feel
free to be vague, we love the challenge. If we do not remember
exactly what tune you want, it's an intentional ploy to offend
you. Remember, entertainers live to be offensive; we stay
up all night thinking up ways to do this. We also never get
enough abuse, so any abuse that you add will keep us in line.
If a band tells you they do not know a song you want to hear,
they either forgot that they know the tune or they are lying
to you. Try singing a few words for the band; if one member
halfway knows part of a chorus, the rest of the band will
instantly learn the entire song by osmosis. Knowing this,
if the band still claims to not know your song just keep requesting
the same song ad nauseum. Never try to request another tune
the band actually knows. Scream your request from across the
room several times per set followed by the phrases, "AW
COME ON!" & "YOU SUCK!". Exaggerated hand
gestures expressing disapproval from the dance floor are a
big help such as the thumbs-down or your middle finger. Put
downs are the best way to jog a band's memory. This instantly
promotes you to the status of, "Personal Friend Of The
Band".
If your choice of music is a complete departure from what
the crowd loves (and cannot get enough of), i.e. if they play
original Blues, ignore this. Simply put a lot of money into
the tip jar to bolster your argument; this will circumvent
any lack of knowledge they have about your requested tune.
The more money you tip the band with, the more power you have
to dictate what happens on stage. Feel free to use your money
to bully the band. Entertainers are notorious fakers and never
prepare for shows, they simply walk on stage with no prior
thought to what they will do once they arrive. An entertainer's
job is so easy, even a monkey could do it, so don't let them
off the hook. The band and club's income does not depend upon
numbers of people patronizing the bar, screw them, your request
is all that matters. If a metal band had played at the club
for the last few weeks, the next band that follows will automatically
know every metal tune the previous band played, even if the
current band is a blues or country band. It's the law. Feel
free to yell "AC/DC" or "SLAYER!" to a
band that plays strictly originals or blues for example. Conversely,
Deadheads may yell for Grateful Dead tunes at a dance or metal
band.
HELPING THE BAND
If you inform the band that you are a musician in a garage
band or singer in a Karaoke bar, be sure to let them know
that you can run rings around them and they need you in their
band. In fact the sole reason the band has not exploded onto
the charts is because they do not have you as their big break
And besides that black guy singing the blues is just copying
Downchild and Clapton in spite of the fact that he's 63 years
old. Tell the band, unequivocally that your mere presence
as a member of their band will save them from the depths of
mediocrity and assure them of success beyond their wildest
dreams. This works every time. If the band continues to refuse
your repeated demands to perform with them, stand on the dance
floor and perform with every tune they do. Do everything you
can to be louder than the band. If they won't let you perform
with them, be disruptive. Nothing asserts your superiority
like an out of tune harmonica, vocalist or a tambourine played
out of tempo.
For extra credit, use these instruments in tunes that do not
have them in the original recording. Musicians love to play
cover tunes with instruments that do not belong there; they
will overlook how badly you play and will wonder how they
have gotten along all these years without you.
BONUS TIP:
As a last resort, wait until the band takes a break and then
get on stage and start playing their instruments; evenif you
are 86ed, you have made your point. The band will call you
immediately the following day to offer you a position.
(Here endeth the rant)
Rant#8: America Eats its Young
(BTW, also the title of a great
Funkadelic record).
Recently I had the dubious
pleasure of seeing one of those daytime talk shows (Sally
Jessy Raphael, I believe, they're all the same). Anyway, this
segment was called "Control your wild teen!", and
it had the usual cast of characters: the dope smoker, the
out-of-control, hormonal girl, etc., ad nauseum. They played
their parts to perfection, being slapped down by the firm
but Solomonic hand of SJR, and at the end received their comeuppance
when a big, black man dressed in a drill sergeant's uniform
marched up and started screaming at them. Much to the delight
of the watching crowd. Presumably, there would be a follow-up
show, when these kids have been "scared straight",
would learn to "act right", and "respect their
elders", and take their place in the festering snakepit
that is modern society.
We love to hate teenagers.
They're loud, obnoxious, wear weird clothes, act irrationally,
listen to loud music, and take drugs. Every teenager is a
potential drug-abuser, car stealer, and killer. We devour
stories about teenage gang-bangers running wild in the streets,
teenage squeegie kids tormenting little old ladies in their
cars, and applaud the application of "traditional values"
(usually involving a large, heavy object applied to one or
more parts of teenage bodies with extreme force).
We also *want* to be teenagers.
We wax nostalgic for our time in high school, we ogle professional
teens like Christina, Mandy, Justin and Britney, and we watch
what they're watching, wearing, and listening to like hawks.
We try to like hip-hop, we say that Tom Green and 'Jackass'
is funny, we try wearing our pants really low. Teenagers have
the largest disposable income of our society, and their fashions
set the standard. They have healthy, firm, wrinkle-free bodies
that we try to attain with Botox and regular trips to the
gym, and they keep with a steady diet of McDonald's and potato
chips. See a double-standard here? Oh yes!
You can see the jealousy at
work. What over-age swinger or cougar wouldn't want a naked
Britney Spears or Justin Timberlake in their bed? But we hate
them! How dare they be young! How dare they be wrinkle-free
and beautiful! How dare they not have to pay rent! How dare
they be angry at society!
And here is the fatal flaw
in our attitudes towards our teenagers. We *want* them to
be angry, because when they're angry, they're not thinking
straight, so we can manipulate them easier. Advertisers foster
this attitude: "You're young, you're rebellious, you're
wild, you're free, you drink Coke!" Each succeeding generation
is the most manipulated, most brainwashed generation of adolescents
in history. However, we're not thinking of the consequences
of such a practice. We stir them up, and then we don't know
how to channel that aggression. Then we're horrified when
they go out and break stuff. We foster the attitude of rebellion,
and then wring our hands and moan when they unleash that attitude
in a way we don't like. And this is where it breaks down.
Teenagers react to the jealousy, the attempts to stir them
up, the blatant imitation, and they explode in a million different
directions. And since it's too much work to understand them
(bizarre, considering all adults were teens once), we hate
them. We love it when Sally Jessy Raphael gets a big black
man in a drill sergeant's uniform, or some banshee "social
worker" to scream at them until the teenager cowers like
a whipped cur. They're teenagers. We love them. We hate them.
We eat them. Here endeth the rant.
Rant#7: The 100 Greatest Guitar Players
of All Time
(thanks Clark Allore for sending
this to me)
Gee, Rolling Stone has decided
rock isn't dead. The magazine that still has one foot in the
late 60's and early 70's (when they're not breathlessly touting
some new pop star who doesn't even make it to Warhol's "15
minutes of fame") has decided that people are still interested
in who the "greatest guitar player of all time"
is. Can you take a wild guess at their #1 pick? Everyone together
(1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . .) JIMI HENDRIX!!!!! (Really, Rolling
Stone is a very modern magazine. Trust me).
Now, I'm not minimizing the
late James Marshall Hendrix' accomplishments. What he did
for rock guitar has yet to be equalled. But yeah, putting
him at #1 is pretty boneheaded. And ignores several other
worthy names. Why not, for instance, Les Paul as #1? He's
merely the pioneer of sound-on-sound recording (otherwise
known as multitracking), first guy to use delay, pitch-shifting,
one of the pioneers of the solid-body electric guitar, and
someone whose helped design the most famous signature model
in music history. BTW, he was #46 on the list. There were
a couple of other howlers. Jack White of The White Stripes
is a fine player. But is he better than The Edge (#24), Tom
Morello (#26), Mark Knopfler (#27), or Danny Gatton (#63)?
I don't think so. Even he wouldn't think so. That was just
a sop to "younger readers", the same reason why
Kurt Cobain was #12, above two *much* more influential players:
Lee Ranaldo and Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth (#33 and #34
respectively). Quite frankly, I would have reversed those
listings, and I'm sure the pre-ventilated Cobain would've
agreed. And what's with omitting Dave Navarro of Jane's Addiction?
And there were some players listed (John Cipollina [#32] or
Leigh Stephens [#98]) who definitely fit into the dinosaur
category. These guys' glory days happened before I was even
born! And throwing in D. Boon (#89)or Greg Ginn (#99) may
have helped convince the editors of RS that they were hip
to hardcore, but they missed out. Great as those players were,
they weren't as interesting or as influential as Steve Jones
(Sex Pistols), Bob Mould, Paul Leary (Butthole Surfers) or
Mick Jones of The Clash. And what's with Joan Jett (#87)?
A fine rhythm player, but not by any stretch of the imagination,
in with the greats. If you wanted to put in a "token
chick", what about Jennifer Batten (Jeff Beck Band)?
A much more impressive choice. And while we're at it, why
the hell am I bellyaching over something appearing in *Rolling
Stone*? I don't even read that rag any more! Screw it, gonna
go write a song. Here endeth the rant.
Rant#6: What Does It Mean?
"One day you will wake
up and know what side of the bed you've been lying on."
- Logo on a t-shirt designed by Bernie Rhodes
(former manager for The Clash)
Over the past year, as we've
been passing out stickers and flyers & playing gigs, people
have been asking us, "Why The Kindly Ones?" It's
a band name that's generated confusion, bad jokes, and (my
favourite), "Ooh, I love your name! It's so sweet and
happy!" Obviously the world is divided between those
who get it, and those who don't. Those who get it, get it
big time. Those who don't . . . let's just say it makes for
some pretty funny stories.
Well, am I going to put all
of you headscratchers out of your misery, and tell you *why*
we three instrument-slinging malcontents call ourselves such
a seemingly-innocuous name as The Kindly Ones? ARE YOU KIDDING?!!!
There's a very good reason why we called ourselves The Kindly
Ones. It's a name that makes perfect sense for this band.
It encapsulates our sound, our philosophy, and who we are.
And we're certainly not going to give it all away! If we were,
we'd call ourselves something simple and easy to digest. Guess
what? Simple, we ain't. If we *wanted* to be simple, we'd
have called ourselves A Simple Plan, or Gob, or something
that everyone gets immediately, so that they can go back to
listening to the party in their heads. Then we'd go out, play
interminable VI-IV-I-V chord progressions with bonehead A-A
rhymes, and end up overdosing on hard drugs because we'd be
so fucking bored! The Kindly Ones: it's a name that has many
facets, many layers of meaning. We're complex people, so we
give ourselves a name that's complex. It's as simple (heh-heh-heh)
as that.
"I can't tell you the
answer to the riddle. You have to find it out for yourself.
I can only pose the riddle. When you can answer the riddle,
then you'll be happening." -
Bernie Rhodes.
But we're not totally heartless.
The clues are all here on this web site. Some of you may have
looked at one or two of my t-shirts, and gotten it straight
off. Some of you may have to dig a little. Some of you may
have to look at things you've never seen before. Go ahead.
Look around. Read. Learn something. Here's a simple rule:
you learn or you die. Got a problem with that? I don't. Here
endeth the rant.
Rant#5: Commercialism
"I like fashion - and
Porsches, and Rolexes - all that stuff! How nice of the morons
and drones to wear uniforms, so one can avoid them . . ."
- Spider Robinson
I'll come back to this one,
but for now, the above quote pretty much covers it. Here endeth
the rant.
Rant#4: Our Next CD.
CD's I'm currently listening
to: Interpol -'Turn on the Bright Lights', Jane's Addiction
- 'Strays', Joy Division - 'Substance', various Siouxsie &
the Banshees singles, QOTSA - 'Songs for the Deaf', various
Nick Drake songs.
At this writing, it is official.
We have sold over half our copies of 'Edge of My Skin'. Thanks
to everyone who picked one up. As for everyone else; what
the fuck are you waiting for?! Okay, that's a little harsh,
but once they're gone, they're gone. We're not going to press
any more copies when they sell out. Right now, I'm in a bit
of a funny place. It's not that I'm not proud of what Sarah,
Jamie and myself did on that CD, but it was a space in time
that we're no longer in. I've written new songs, Jamie is
no longer with the band, and we have Jeff who is starting
to make his presence felt in the arrangements and the spirit
of the songs. Quite frankly, listening to 'Edge of My Skin'
puts my teeth on edge. I hear the sweat, the artifice, the
little compromises we had to make, due to the uncompromising
nature of the recording process. And I'm looking forward to
the next one. At which point you're probably wondering, where
are The Kindly Ones going next? Are they going to rehash a
bunch of older songs, recontextualizing them in new ways,
or start with a totally clean slate? And what is the idea
of going into a "proper" studio going to do?
First off, I can say that our
next CD will be more polished than our last (duh!). I also
want to mess with some more tonal variation than with the
last record. 'Edge of My Skin' was recorded with just my Les
Paul and my amp. Sure I messed with delays and different flavours
of distortion, but essentially the same set-up. This time
I'm planning on begging, borrowing, or stealing every guitar,
amp and FX I can lay my hands on (friends of mine, consider
yourselves warned!). I guess I want to be more focused on
this record. 'Edge of My Skin' was essentially a collection
of songs. Some pretty cool songs (in my not-so-humble-opinion),
but not much focus. The only sign of creating a coherent piece
of work were the two bookends: two musical salvos at a certain
ex-girlfriend which opened and closed the CD. The Kindly Ones
were a band in the process of finding itself, seeing what
its identity was. A large part had to do with putting the
songs out there, and seeing what the reactions were. And for
the most part, it was positive. People looked past the roughness
of the recording and found the songs therein. This time, I
want to sharpen my focus. I want to create a coherent statement.
This next CD will not be merely a collection of great tunes,
but will link up, not just emanating from the diseased cerebral
cortex of yours truly. What will that mean? Bringing the CD
more in line with our influences. The most common threads
seem to be that we sound like a cross between Husker Du and
Interpol. That sounds like a cool mix to me, and one that
not many people are exploring. As far as I'm concerned pop-punk
is dying. The crap bands have hit the scene, are cashing in,
and any music fan with any sense is looking elsewhere. And
that's where The Kindly Ones want to be; shining our mirrors,
reflecting the world around us. I think this CD will be more
moody. The aggressiveness will still be there (hey, it's *me*
we're talking about here!), but I want to record some of those
dark ballads I've rediscovered in the corners of my catalogue.
The creepier stuff. Will we re-record songs off 'Edge of My
Skin'? I'm torn. Some songs definitely did not get their due
(Over You and Shoggoth's in particular) in the way we did
them. But there is also the temptation to start with a clean
slate. So this is the compromise I'll work towards: I'll re-record
EoMS songs if they work within the thematic framework of the
CD we envision (Oooh, "thematic framework"! Don't
I sound like quite the artiste!). The only thing I can truly
say is that our next CD (whatever we call it) will be a true
statement of what The Kindly Ones are. Here we stand; warts
and all. Not terribly coherent and well-written perhaps, but
here endeth the rant.
Rant#3: Our "Freaky Fans"
"A painting that doesn't
shock isn't worth painting."
- Marcel Duchamp, artist (I've used this quote before but
bear with me)
Well, the vultures have come
home to roost on the music industry. After the profit-bloated
80's and 90's, and years of force-feeding us crap like Britney
Spears and the bastard daughter of a certain Triumph bass
player, the music industry is whining that they're not making
any money, and that evil downloaders like Napster and Kazaa
have destroyed the industry. Well, there are so many reasons
why the music industry is in trouble (73-minute CD's with
only two worthwhile songs on them, artists with more image
than talent, the fact that the baby boomers have converted
all their LP's to CD, and aren't buying any more), but I had
to chuckle while I was watching various industry types moan
and groan at Canadian Music Week.
While attending CMW, I submitted
'Shoggoth's Old Peculiar' to a panel of industry types at
a demo-listen session (go to our music page and click on the
IUMA link to hear it. Be honest.). While the panel made some
legitimate critiques of the song, other comments were downright
hilarious: "Too many lyrics," said one, "Chorus
isn't strong enough," said another (a fair comment).
The prize however, was a rant about the song itself. "CFNY
will never play a song called 'Shoggoth's Old Peculiar'!"
panelist Jody Ferneyhough (Universal Music) blustered. "This
stuff is fine if you want to be a touring band and play for
your FREAKY FANS (emphasis mine), but it will never go on
radio." There you have it, fellow freaks. This is what
the music industry thinks of anyone who wants to hear something
more than another shop-worn way of saying, "I love you."
If you want lyric-driven music that actually has something
to say, then the music industry has no time for you. I'm going
to indulge in some hubris and imagine similar reactions if
these panelists heard 'The Lonesome Death of Hattie McCarroll'
or 'Heroin' (not that I'm comparing myself to Bob Dylan or
Lou Reed, but to illustrate a point). "Where's the chorus?"
they would say. "The tempo fluctuates too much!"
"No-one would ever want to hear songs about a black woman
getting killed or heroin addiction!" If you think either
of these two songs are great art, and not an uncommercial
waste of time, then the music industry thinks you are a freak.
If you want to make up your own mind about what is great music,
and not be swayed by some marketing type, you're a freak.
Well, you know what? I'm a freak. I think both those songs
are genius, and my ambition is to write songs that can be
mentioned in the same breath. If you think that's a worthy
ambition, then you're the sort of person I want coming to
see The Kindly Ones. Let's make up our own minds about what
is good music (without a myopic industry brainwashing us into
thinking that "Avril Lavigne is the future!" If
Avril Lavigne is the future, then shoot me now!). Let's stand
up, stick our middle fingers towards the paid taste-makers
and yell out, "Say it loud! I am a freak and I
am proud!" Here endeth the rant.
Rant#2: Who Killed Punk Rock?
Dedicated to Joe Strummer (1952-2002). You
rocked.
This is hilarious; CMW 2003
is holding a forum on "Who Killed Punk Rock?" A
corporate music event hosting a seminar on one of the most
anti-corporate styles of music (now just another faceless
pop style) ever developed. As if any one of those corporate
tools ever had anything to do with punk. They'd probably shit
themselves if they ever ran into Mike Ness or Jello Biafra.
Of course, this got *me* thinking, "Who Killed Punk Rock?"
For reference, I looked at two books: "American Hardcore;
A Tribal History" by Steven Blush and "Punk: The
Definitive Record of a Revolution" by Stephen Colegrave
& Chris Sullivan (thanx Chris Fowler for getting them
for me). Any quotes I throw up are from either of these two
books.
"Punk was not a movement
to perpetuate itself. It was a movement that had to hate itself.
It had to make itself violent by its own ethos - to fuck itself
up." - Paul Durden (former roadie)
Okay, let's define our terms
here. Start with the College English Dictionary, circa 2000,
which says, "Punk n.(1) A youth movement of the late
'70's characterized by anti-establishment slogans and outrageous
clothes or hairstyles. (2) An inferior, worthless, or rotten
person or thing. (3) Worthless articles collectively. (4)
Short for punk rock. (5) A young male homosexual; cat (6)
A prostitute-adj." Okay, we've done two things: we've
defined our terms, and given a few hints.
"The attitude wasn't
about conforming - it was about people doing it for themselves,
whether collectively or individually. It wasn't doing what
you read in the paper" - Paul Simonen (bassist, The
Clash)
Who Were the Punks?
"I thought a punk was
someone who took it up the ass." - William S. Burroughs,
writer.
Originally, a punk was a male
prostitute. When he was 15, Dee Dee Ramone pawned his "prison
pussy" on the corner or 53rd & 3rd in NYC (which
inspired the classic Ramones song). To be called a punk was
(and still is) a deadly insult in prison.
"A painting that doesn't
shock isn't worth painting." - Marcel Duchamp, painter.
The first punks were the kids
growing up in economically-depressed London or NYC, who couldn't
get jobs. So they channeled all that frustration and boredom
into art. Art influenced by beatnik writers like Kerouac and
Burroughs. Art influenced by painters like Andy Warhol and
Marcel Duchamp, who took the mundane and made it artistic.
Art influenced by musicians like The Velvet Underground, who
spoke about living in NYC and scoring heroin. Art that would
appeal to frustrated, creative people like themselves. The
freaks, the drag queens, the types mainstream society wouldn't
piss on if they were on fire. And the music reflected that.
They knew society would look down on them; just because they
had a lower-class accent and no money, so they turned that
scorn into a badge of honour. Say it loud: I'm worthless,
and I'm proud!
It's generally conceded that
punk started in NYC. Andy Warhol's Factory laid the groundwork,
bringing in the despised elements of society and mixing them
with the rich, the talented and the beautiful. The Velvet
Underground (whose first record was produced by Andy Warhol)
is arguably the first punk band. Certainly anyone who wears
black and has an attitude owes something to them. A former
country and bluegrass bar called CBGB's started booking acts
no-one else would touch, like The Ramones, Television, Blondie
etc. When The Ramones toured England with The Talking Heads,
they turned heads. Quite a few people who caught them (Joe
Strummer, Johnny Rotten) formed bands. The rest, as they say,
is history. More bands sprung up, and gradually music execs
realized that there was money in this sweaty, obnoxious bunch
of kids. So did older rock n' rollers who switched to punk,
like The Police or The UK Subs. They codified the rules of
punk, and conformity replaced non-conformity.
"Originally, every
band sounded different. Now it's been put into these narrow
parameters. A band picks a style, plays in nothing but that
style, and puts intelligent members of their audience to sleep
. . . independence and freedom quickly became such a formula
and book of rules . . . it wasn't fun anymore." -
Jello Biafra (singer, Dead Kennedys)
Who Killed Punk Rock?
1) The fans. Look at our definition
again. "A youth movement." What happens to youth?
They get old, they get married, they get mortgages and mini-vans.
They're no longer interested in going out to shows, and their
younger brothers and sisters don't want to do what they did.
Take the hippies. They went back to the land, were against
materialism and commercialism. Their younger brothers and
sisters listened to ABBA, bought loads of white polyester
and snorted cocaine at Studio 54. The same thing happened
to punk's younger siblings. They went into Two-Tone, Goth,
or The New Romantics.
"By '78, I'd lost interest.
I was in a band, we were doing our own thing and they way
punk went had no relevance to me."
- Suggs (singer, Madness)
"Everybody jumped on
the bandwagon, but nobody understood it." - Paul
Cook (drummer, The Sex Pistols)
2) The bands. As we saw before,
once groups like The Clash and The Sex Pistols started making
money, everyone wanted in. The Police were the most successful
example, but there were many others like Sham 69 and The UK
Subs, bands who thought spitting and acting like idiots were
the way to go. They adopted the uniform, but not the thought
behind it. And the record companies reeled it all in. They
looked at punk as just another cash cow, and they didn't want
the real freaks who might genuinely shock middle America.
So transsexual Jayne County was out, blandly attractive Sting
was in.
3) The movement itself. Punk
was obviously self-defeating because the way it came about.
It was the style of freaks, people who didn't fit into mainstream
society. When mainstream society glommed onto it, they felt
that what they were doing was misunderstood, or that the people
they hated were co-opting their language.
"The whole punk thing
had descended into an abyss . . . frequented by really horrible,
stupid, bland people . . . who'd read all the adverse publicity
and actually believed it . . . they were smelly, they spat
. . they swore (very loudly) . . . and, most unforgivably,
they were very dull . . . they could sniff as much glue as
they desired without damaging their brain. The perfect illustration
of this that many of these Johnny-come-ridiculously-late punks
became skinheads and joined the National Front . . . for them
it was another fashion, another trend . . ." - Chris
Sullivan (author)
What can we learn from this?
Today's rebellion is tomorrow's establishment. Today's vision
is tomorrow's excuse to act like idiots. And greed trumps
activism, every time. Here endeth the rant.
Rant#1: Dominic Sold Out
Yeah, I sold out to the Man.
I did a jingle. A Swiss Chalet commercial, no less. Yep, throw
the first stones. I'm a whore.
Anybody in the College St.
scene knows Ken Cade, Laura Fernandez's violin player and
musical director. He called me up and asked me to come down
and play some bossa-nova style guitar on a commercial track.
You know that Swiss Chalet commercial, where the yuppie businesswoman
tries to figure out what the delivery boy has in his bag?
The elevator music: that's me. It didn't pay that much, but
a lot better than what I get doing original gigs in-town,
and the chance to do more if it worked out. Did I jump at
it? Fuck yeah! Would I do it again? Fuck yeah!
The act of selling out involves
abandoning your principles for cold, hard cash. What are my
principles? I love playing guitar and playing music. I love
making money playing music. I want to be able to continue
making music and getting paid to do it. Let's face it, so
far we're lucky if we get $100 a night doing gigs, and that's
usually for a cover show. Performing originals? Hell, you're
lucky if you have $100 to split between three members of your
band! So somebody offered me a chance to play guitar (and
get paid to do it) on a commercial that's currently irritating
television watchers coast-to-coast. Yeah, I got paid. Yeah,
I might do some more jingles one day. Will that offend some
indier-than-thou types who think that's selling out to The
Man? Yes, but those indier-than-thou types aren't setting
up my retirement fund. So, if I want to make some money making
music, I have to grab whatever I can get. End of story. Here
endeth the rant.
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