This Isn’t Brain Surgery

The amount of training, manual dexterity and left-right brain integration required to become a brain surgeon or a musician is actually very similar. The only major differences are that someone has to sign off on a brain surgeon’s qualifications and the brain surgeon needn’t own (nor purchase) his own tools. Well, that and if I inadvertently hit a Bb in the middle of a C major scale, nobody gets paralyzed. (also, you can be a perfectly average brain surgeon and still make really good money and I don’t need a license to practice music) I also take issue with Andrew Dubber’s music business-as-lottery comments; the music business has nothing in common with a lottery other than the occasional unexpectedly large payouts, because anyone with a dollar can be eligible for a lottery jackpot, while it takes years and years to grow a good musician, and even longer to grow a good songwriter. (see brain surgeon comments above)

The idea that making music is easy and fun is complete horsesh*t, but we sell it to the public because that’s what they’re buying. It’s actually as agonizing as giving birth, and then somebody comes along and steals your baby and claims it for their own OR they tell you it’s too ugly to feed and should be put out to sea on an ice floe. On some of my darker days, I begin to believe that there are people in this world that don’t deserve music, and that we should at the very least have a single day out of the year, International Music Day, when no music of any kind is allowed to be played anywhere on the planet, and all y’all can have a great time listening to nothing but the sound of the wind, some ducks and geese and a few million cheerful car horns. Of course music is a gift, but musicianship is not, it has to be earned.

What Are You In For?

It’s a question one prisoner might ask another, but I’m asking it in the context of music and the industry, or more specifically, the industry, because nobody makes music to make money; not really. If they did, I doubt they’d be any good at it. I’ve always made music for nothing, out of whatever goodness is left in my crusty heart. I do, however, demand payment for hauling all the expensive and heavy equipment out to the van, up the stairs into the club, back to the van, and home again. Maybe that makes me more stevedore than musician, but I kinda prefer to be called the latter.

I actually think anyone that wants to be famous is most likely insane. I’ll have to read the book by noted narcissist Dr. Drew Pinsky to know for sure. Which brings me to Amanda Overmyer. No, she’s not going to be appearing on the next season of celebrity rehab, as far as I know, it’s that in terms of degrees of separation, I’m closer to Ms. Overmyer than Ghandi or Barack; had I one to give, I could’ve given her a social disease. Relax, it just means I know people who know Amanda, some of them in the Biblical sense, which is how I know that some of her former bandmates were hounded by tabloid media offering fistfuls of cash for any dirt they could get on her for a period of months while she was on American Idol.

Dr. Drew is right, evolution has not given human beings to tools to deal with that level of craziness. I’m probably the most shameless person I know, and I shudder to think what some of my acquaintances might be willing to reveal about me just to get on TV.

So I’m not in ‘the life’ (don’t prostitutes call it that?) for money, and certainly not for fame, though one needs to achieve at least a little of the latter to make any of the former. You know that moment where you lose yourself in the music and nothing else matters? That’s what I’m in for. I wish everybody could feel like that all the time, and I’m always trying to make it happen. You should come get some of this; I’m practically giving it away.

Join The Passengaires!

SING ON MY RECORD!

Here’s the skinny; at some point this weekend, you’ll likely be slightly inebriated and in a mood to sing, and as it happens, I need a slightly out of tune chorus of celebrants for this record I’m making, and as it also happens, I’m a bit of a bear for authenticity. The Double A Daddies have song (a cautionary tale) about alcohol and regret, called “Shot The TV” and we need some help with singing the last chorus, so I’ve devised a plan whereby we can help each other out.

I jes’ need two or three people willing and able to act as “Conductors”. A Conductor is anyone who has the means to record a few Taxi passengers singing the chorus to our song, in either 16 or 24 bit WAV, preferably at 48khz, but I can probably make 16-bit, 44.1khz work, too.

Everybody who sings gets an album credit on our forthcoming “Sunday Depression” CD, and a free full-length FLAC or MP3 download of the entire album.

Passengaires are responsible for making sure the Conductor has their name as it will appear in the album credits and a valid email address so that they can receive their download.

Conductors are responsible for delivering the recordings (http://soundcloud.com/mojobone/dropbox) and providing an accurate list of names and respective email addys, and each conductor who delivers all of the above will receive a download of the CD AND a T-shirt for their trouble (up to XXL, not necessarily a Double A Daddies shirt, cuz I don’t own that design; nevertheless, it’ll be stylin’, black, and 100% cotton-please allow for reasonable delivery, we’re shootin’ for Christmas, or thereabouts)

Conductors will need a suitable recording device and a means to play back the song or a recording thereof (for the singers to reference) OR to learn the chorus in the key of D (it’s only three chords, natch) in order to lead a group while playing in time with the recording whilst listening on headphones or whatever’s available and playing whatever instrument is at hand to keep the group roughly in time, if not in tune.

The fine print: We may only be able to use a couple of recordings, (quality wins) but everybody who submits (or who gets submitted) gets the stated rewards, except possibly the album credits if it ends up running more than a couple of pages-our printing budget is unfortunately finite. And, oh, what the hey, we’ll figure out a special prize for the conductor that sends us the longest list of auxiliary backup singers.

Here are the chorus lyrics:

I think I Shot The TV out last night

All alone and a drinkin’ by myself

Forty-five and a bottle near my hand

I think I Shot The TV out last night

Please use the comments for questions or suggestions. Click on the orange dropbox icon on the right to deliver your track, or go to http://soundcloud.com/mojobone/dropbox

http://soundclick.com/share?songid=8325139

Sunday Depression To Be Released Dec 12TH

Here’s the promo, tell us what you think!

Better download it now, before the frontal nudity gets pixellated out.

Mojo Bone Now On Twitter

You can follow me {mojo_bone} on twitter, though I can’t recommend it. I fail to comprehend how my life could be interesting to anybody but me. Yeah, ex-Navy, ex-construction worker, part Native, ex-stripper, current singin’ cowboy, former bluesman with a silly name, I’m a walking, talking one-man Village People. I’m simultaneously a producer, artist and record label, and now that I’m also a photojournalist/web designer, I got more careers than Carter’s had liver pills. But all the really interesting stuff is in the past and in the future; from where I’m standing, it’s all just a lot of details having to do with making my way from one to the other.

The Google

If you google the band, you’ll find details regarding the breakup of the original lineup, which are pretty hilarious. (I was at that show, but just after the fireworks) My understanding is there was at least one onstage fistfight, prior to that. We all get along purty good, now.

The Cloud Of The Future

Why own a hard drive at all, when the entire history of recorded music will be available on demand from the cloud in the form of audio, performance video, tablature, MIDI or notation? No digital native, me, but I think people like owning objects, particularly decorative objects that enhance their lives and surroundings, and will likely continue to do so. I think that when you separate the music from the object it’s embedded in, it loses all value, because it can then be infinitely copied at no cost. On the other hand, we now have picture frames that play slide shows with musical accompaniment. We’ve never really sold the music itself, what we’ve been selling is the soundtrack to our fans’ lives; a subtle yet significant distinction. We provide not content, but lifestyle. Music consumers (odd term, that; what exactly gets consumed?) pay very little for terrestrial radio; the price of the player, possibly a few batteries and the amount of our time and attention the advertisements take up-THAT is last century’s discovery engine; the new ones are faster, better, more efficient, and will certainly have a place in Music 2.0. Still, I think there’ll also be a place for a musical object. I hope the next one will be as beautiful as the stacks of vinyl LPs I still keep around.

The Music Business Is Not A Lottery

The music business has nothing in common with a lottery, other than the occasional unexpectedly large payouts. “Luck” is what happens when preparation meets opportunity, “talent” is the result of years of focused attention and diligent practice, and in an industry as vast as ours, while some elements of timing and chance will inevitably affect our outcome, over the long haul, it’s our skills and effort that decide our income. True enough, having a Top Ten record is like being hit by lightning, but when the storm comes, most of us will be huddled by the fire in our huts; only a few will be standing on a mountain in the rain and wind, holding a lightning rod.

Dear Bob…

I love me some Bob Lefsetz, and I respect the man and his opinions, even the ones about Steely Dan. I’m a faithful follower in all respects, but one. Why doesn’t he allow comments on his blog? It can’t be laziness; allowing comments doesn’t require a response. It’s more than a little off-putting to me, especially when his posts are provocative, which is generally the case. Perhaps he just doesn’t get the new-media paradigm, or maybe he’s as allergic to debate as Rush Limbaugh.

The Best Boilermaker

It was Pat McClimans that introduced me to the concept of an Irish Car Bomb, a Boilermaker composed of Irish liquor and Irish beer, although the pairing is older than Vince Lombardi’s underpants. Being of an adventurous turn of mind and spirit, an exploration of the possible combinations of beer and liquor has been a part of my own journey. Here are some combinations I find to be compelling:

The Classic: Jack Daniels X Budweiser

The Irish: Bushmills X Murphy’s Irish Stout

The Kentucky: Ten High X PBR

The Nirvana: Woodford Reserve X Stella Artois

The Mojo: Ezra Brooks X Pilsner Urquel

There are undoubtedly many other viable combinations; post your favorites here.