In this meme, you request an interview in the comments, the blogger posts 5 questions for you, and you make a blog post about them.
My 5 questions come from Tim Pratt:
1. Which would you prefer: a steady but unglamorous career as a working musician, or to be a one-hit-wonder who gets rich off eternal royalties from That One Song, and then fades into obscurity?
I have no problem with obscurity, so both these options are acceptable. However, if I were to choose one, I'd go with the one-hit-wonder. This is because "That One Song" would be enough to get me into the "club" of the music industry, thus allowing me to pursue my main aspiration as a collaboration whore. I'd like to collaborate with anyone and everyone. This is different from just doing studio work for them, it would be a creative role, allowing me to meander from genre to genre and be a musical chameleon. It would also mean I could always go on a tour of the club circuit, or (god forbid) play Vegas.
2. Which is more enjoyable: writing music or performing music?
2. Which is more enjoyable: writing music or performing music?
Very tricky question. I'd have to say performing, but that only applies if I'm performing music I've written, or participated in writing. I'd rather write and never perform than perform and never write. But, when I'm doing both, performing is more fun, usually.
3. Is it more important for a band-mate to have mind-blowing talent or a personality that meshes well with other musicians -- which creates better work?
3. Is it more important for a band-mate to have mind-blowing talent or a personality that meshes well with other musicians -- which creates better work?
To me, when creating a band, cohesion is the most important thing. I've had better luck with barely competent but cooperative and enthusiastic than I've had with brilliant jerks. It's always a balance, but for a band to be enjoyable and productive, for me at least, you need to fill it with compatible personalities. I've been lucky to have worked with several brilliant, soul mate collaborations. However, I've also had my share of ass-wholes and belligerent drunks that I only tolerate because of their skills. I've also had plenty of band-mates that were great guys that lacked in talent. I guess, if I were a solo artist hiring a band, I'd go with talent regardless of personality in the studio, and competence that I can stand being around on the road. As to which creates better work? It varies. For me, it's been working with the uber-talents, because they have all mostly also been great people. Much of the time, particularly since I've been in California, I've been in bands that had to lower the scope of what we wanted to achieve, musically, because of the limitations of our members.
4. Would you sell your soul to the devil at the crossroads at midnight in exchange for greatness?
4. Would you sell your soul to the devil at the crossroads at midnight in exchange for greatness?
No. To do that would be to admit that I was incapable of achieving greatness without the devil's intervention. Besides, I'm one of those "my way" kind of guys. If I can't do it my way, I don't want to do it.
5. What would you have done differently?
5. What would you have done differently?
In music, I presume? Well, I would've taken myself and my music more seriously all along. I have a problem with realizing that I'm doing good work, because I tend to aim high. I tend to dismiss a lot of my work as sub par, and have to rely on others to convince me otherwise. If I would've believed more in myself, my music, and the work I had been doing all along, I think I would've achieved MUCH more by now than I have. The best example I can think of is the band 3-five-7. When we had our reunion performance last year, I was deeply moved at how many people showed up. I never realized that my music had made such an impression. I heard stories about how important the music of that band had been to people. Everyone has music that holds a special place in their hearts, because it was the right song, at the right time. I just never realized that some of my songs had been that song to someone else. It was a profoundly moving realization, that reaffirmed my love for what I do, and my commitment to it.
