How I Learned to Think Like a Rock Star


                 Image by Anirudh Koul under Creative Commons license
"I'd love to go to art school. I'd love to learn how to draw. I'd love to be fluent in Spanish. I'd like to be a brain surgeon."
Billie Joe Armstrong

I've interviewed a lot of musicians (sadly, not Billie Joe Armstrong). Some have never performed outside their home state, while others have traveled the world and played stadiums. What struck me about all of them wasn't just their talent; it was their view of themselves and of the world:


They don't wait for the "right time."
Many of these artists started young, some even dropping out of school. And they took the first chance they saw, even if it was just lending a guitar lead to an established musician. And for those already well into adulthood, they didn't wait until they retired or their kids were out of school -- and they didn't tell themselves they were too old. They performed wherever and whenever they could, even if it was just an impromptu jam session on the weekend or a gig at a tiny coffeehouse no one's ever heard of.

"I may not believe in myself, but I believe in what I'm doing."
Jimmy Page

Their "job" is also their drug of choice.
I recently asked a hard rock musician what his biggest vice was. Jack Daniels? Sex? Texas Hold'em? Nope. "Rock and roll." After 30 years of performing, music is still his passion. He tours, forms new bands, collaborates with other artists. He hasn't lost that eight-year-old boy who stared at the TV, transfixed by "Black Sabbath Live in Paris." Many of my peers lost that fire five or 10 years into their careers. I think I lost it as soon as I started getting a paycheck. Where's the ache to communicate I felt at eight years old? Back then, it woke me up at 2 a.m., sending me running to my little white desk to compose poems about unicorns with my Hello Kitty pen (pink ink!) and My Little Pony stationary. Now, writing is just another item on my to-do list, along with buying kitty litter and scheduling a dentist appointment.


They know there's more to life than "the biz."
It would be easy to forget there's a great big world outside the music industry. It is a competitive, crowded world, after all, and succeeding there requires everything you think you have and then some. But if you give all that away, what's left? I envy how the musicians I've met give as much to their families and their hobbies as they do to their careers. One singer-songwriter I interviewed is a pinball and crossword addict. Others teach philosophy or sociology. Many also have spouses and children. Like Billie Joe Armstrong, they're fascinated by everything from art to science. Even when their musical careers thrive, they continue to nurture their other interests. No doubt these extracurricular activities provide them with balance and emotional well-being (crucial to surviving in the entertainment industry), as well as plenty of material for new songs.


They don't expect a fairy tale.
We love an overnight success story, don't we? That, and the "getting your big break" myth. The musicians I've interviewed never expected that, even though they liked the idea of fame and fortune. They just realized they'd have to work hard to get there. (That old-fashioned notion of "paying your dues.") They tour relentlessly, sometimes acting as their own roadie, bus driver, and anything else they must. They gladly open for other bands. Some even take day jobs in between tours. And when something goes wrong -- their record label drops them, they lose a band member -- they don't take to Twitter or their website and blame God, or Satan, or their critics. They just get back to work.


Certainly, there are a lot of divas out there. They perform drunk, show up late to concerts, frequently indulge in public rants. I've been lucky enough to meet the kind of musicians who view a music career as a lifelong adventure and trek. They are perpetual students, sometimes learning a new instrument or genre mid-way through their careers. They don't label themselves. They blur lines and break rules. And they've changed the way I view success, talent and creativity.

Lady Marmalade, I think I love you, even if we are just living on a prayer...

"What's your musical guilty pleasure?"

That's a question I've asked several interviewees (all musicians) lately. My favorite response so far: "I feel no guilt for musical pleasures." Nice. Very nice. Music is entertainment. It's meant to be enjoyed.

I dislike most Top 40 music. I prefer obscure and experimental bands. Or early jazz and blues performers. Basically, anything besides what I hear on the radio every day. However, there are several radio-friendly tunes I adore. The kind you turn up so loud you blow out the speakers in your car. The kind you sing at the top of your lungs while you're cleaning the cat boxes or loading the dishwasher. Here are a few of the songs that I have, until now, refused to admit I often leave on repeat.

1. "(You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party)" -- Beastie Boys
2. "Super Freak" -- Rick James
3. "In My House" -- Mary Jane Girls
4. "I Think I Love You" -- The Partridge Family
5. "Lady Marmalade" -- LaBelle
6. "Don't Stop Believin'" -- Journey
7. "Humpty Dance" -- Digital Underground
8. "We're Not Gonna Take It" -- Twisted Sister
9. "Living on a Prayer" -- Bon Jovi
10. "Eye of the Tiger" -- Survivor

So...what's your musical guilty pleasure? Do share, won't you? We promise not to laugh.

Related posts:
Albums I can listen to over and over and over...
My Life According to The Cure
Movies that ALWAYS put me in a good mood

Two Little Words

Being a decent writer is a useful skill -- like when writing witty status updates for Facebook and Twitter, for example. But there's one area where it does nothing for me: telling the people closest to me how I feel. I already knew this, but really felt it when a friend recently lost a loved one.

I wanted to send this friend a note, but when I sat down at the keyboard, no words would come. Suddenly I was no longer this person's friend; I was a Writer. I felt this pressure to say just the right thing, something that would ease my friend's suffering and let them know how sad I was for them. Something deep, poetic, profound. I started and stopped several times, but everything I typed sounded pretentious, or preachy or like something you've read in a thousand different sympathy cards. At the time, I talked to this person practically every day, about everything from work to relationships. So why was this so hard?

I realized a couple of things. First, I was trying to imitate everything well-intentioned people say to you when you lose someone. About the person being in a better place, about there being a plan, etc, etc. Maybe all that's true, but it never helps me when I'm grieving. All I know is I'm hurting. Talking to me about some larger plan just makes me feel selfish or wrong for being sad.

Secondly, my friend and I didn't have that kind of relationship. We didn't sit around and wax poetic, or talk about the meaning of life and death and suffering or anything like that. We talked about pop culture. We complained about coworkers. On occasion we exchanged very inappropriate jokes. If I tried to pretend I had answers or insights into why bad things happen, it would just seem insincere.

Yes, I did finally send a note. What did I say? The only thing that wouldn't seem preachy or insincere, the one thing that couldn't be misconstrued, the one thing that would simply express empathy: "I'm sorry."

The Thursday 13: Movies that ALWAYS put me in a good mood

Most of these wouldn't be considered "art." They don't necessarily have some huge message. But they make me laugh. And sometimes that's all that matters. Most of these also fall into the "movies-I've-seen-so-many-times-I-can-recite-the-dialogue" category.

1. So I Married an Axe Murderer
2. Better off Dead
3. The 'Burbs
4. Pretty in Pink
5. Back to the Future
6. Grease
7. Breakfast at Tiffany's
8. Moonstruck
9. When Harry Met Sally
10. Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure
11. Beetlejuice
12. Fletch
13. La Cage aux Folles (and the Robin Williams version, "The Birdcage")

Other "Thursday 13" Posts:
Albums I can listen to over and over and over...
Mental Vacation
Things I Promise NOT to Do to You on Facebook
Some of My Favorite Addictions
Why I Like Being a Freelance Journalist

My Life According to The Cure

This is one of those "notes" that's been circulating around Facebook. I thought it would make an interesting blog post. Here are the rules: Pick one artist, and answer the following questions using titles from their songs. I chose The Cure, which may have been a mistake because they have SO many titles that fit me.

Are you a male or female?
Bird Mad Girl

Describe yourself:
Out of Mind

How do you feel:
In Between Days

Describe where you currently live:
Fascination Street

If you could go anywhere, where would you go:
Where the Birds Always Sing

Favorite form of transportation:
Mint Car

Your best friend is:
Pictures of You

What's the weather like:
The Last Day of Summer

Favorite time of day:
10:15 Saturday Night

If your life were a TV show, what would it be called:
Cut Here

What is life to you:
Grinding Halt

Your fear:
Never Enough

What is the best advice you have to give:
Let's Go to Bed

Thought for the Day:
More Than This

How I would like to die:
Just Like Heaven

My soul's present condition:
Doing the Unstuck

My motto:
To Wish Impossible Things

The Thursday 13: Albums I can listen to over and over and over...

There are more; these are just the first 13 I thought of. And they're not necessarily in order. And some I only have on vinyl so I can't listen to at all.

1. "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" soundtrack
2. "Disintegration" by The Cure
3. "Bloodletting" by Concrete Blonde
4. "Shake These Blues" by Pinkie and the Snake Shakers
5. "Pretty in Pink" soundtrack
6. "Promise" by Sade
7. Sue Saad and the Next (self-titled)
8. "Strong Persuader" by Robert Cray
9. Chris Isaak (self-titled)
10. "Grace" by Jeff Buckley
11. "Dummy" by Portishead
12. "Chimera" by Delerium
13. "You've Done Lost Your Good Thing Now" by B.B. King

So maybe I should appreciate my job a little more...

Sometimes (OK, a lot of the time), I complain about my job. Freelance journalists don't earn enough, don't get much respect, and of course there's the no benefits/health insurance/401k disadvantage that comes from being self-employed. And much of the time I feel like I'm writing "fluff" pieces, or articles that probably won't even be read. But every now and then something reminds me why I became a journalist.

I just finished an article about two women who adopted children from another country, and who are now starting a charity to help that area. During the interview I'm already feeling a little guilty about how I complain about my sluggish computer, or the two digital cameras that don't work, when I'm hearing about the thousands of people who live in fear of constant violence and may not always even have food. At the end of the interview, the children want to say hello to me. One thanks me for writing the article and "helping people in the Congo." I may communicate for a living, but I had no idea what to say to this teenage boy. Sure, I was excited about writing an article about a good cause. But I just thought of it as interesting story about the benefits of adopting from another country, or about the dedication involved in starting a charity. I never thought of my article as something that might directly help people halfway across the world. Equally surprising, I realized that sometimes, the best reward is just a "thank you." And I feel I owe him, this boy half my age, a thank you for reminding me not to complain so much.