From the very beginning of my "music career" I have recorded rehearsals. I have tons of practice sessions on cassette tapes that I have stashed away. Songs being worked out, all the chit-chat between songs, in glorious lo-fi (ie. recorded on a cheap portable tape deck).
I picked out a few today that were some of the oldest in the lot. The Country Silver Band...the Situation...the Deep Fork River Band... I've got stuff on these tapes that I don't even remember. These particular ones were at least 25 years old.
Listening to them I could barely recognize myself. I wasn't paying attention to the music, although it was impossible not to notice what a bad singer I was at the time. I attribute that to a severe lack of self-confidence. I picked these ancient recordings because I wanted to hear the conversations between the songs. I thought it would be interesting to hear the things we talked about so long ago.
It was cool, but I really felt sorry for the guy who sounded a bit like me. He must have been really insecure. You can hear how uncomfortable he is in a social setting. But then, on the other hand, his passion for the music he was making is almost palpable. He knew he had a long, long way to go before he could legitimately call himself a real musician, but it certainly doesn't sound like he cares. He's having too much fun, he's caught up in possibilities. His dreaming has only just begun.
My dreaming is over now. Not that I'm lamenting. It was a pretty good dream, for what it was. It's been a long time since I woke up from that dream. In the years since I have come to appreciate the wisdom of those who tried to tell me I was dreaming in the first place. I followed it anyway.
I'm not disappointed in any of the music projects I've been involved with over the years (okay, maybe one or two bands were worth forgetting). I've had a lot of good times and met a lot of great people. Practically everyone of my friends are musicians as well who I got to know through one of those various music projects I spoke of.
But here I am, 46 years old, and it's not hard to realize that I would have been much better off had I not wanted to make music my full time job. I don't know if that makes me a failure, but if it does I imagine I'm only one of a very, very large group. I don't think it's anything to be ashamed of. I mean, at least we tried, right?
I guess I'm thinking on all of this because my 13 year old son is already talking about a career in music. He's a lot smarter than I was, though. He understands that he needs to go to college and get a degree...not like his dad, who didn't want to wait (or work) for that. But even with a music degree there's not much one can do with it around here (another reason why I didn't bother). He would like to be a band director (just like his dad did), so if he follows that path he'll be majoring in education and minoring in music.
And that would be fine, but I think he is capable of so much more. His grasp of mathematics is incredible and he makes excellent grades in science. Hell, he makes good grades in all of his classes (and, yes, I guess it is a little premature for me to be thinking about his college education...). I'm just like my dad was...I would have him do something that would make it possible for him to enjoy the kind of prosperity that just isn't possible with a music diploma. Just like my dad wanted me to, I want him to make music his second job and not get too caught up in the dream. Not that I would take that away from him...
But that's still a few years away. He may well change his mind about the whole thing (though I didn't). I guess it just surprises me that, I hope he does. I hope that he never loses his love for music, performance, composition...I just hope he will keep it in perspective. Whatever he chooses, though, I will be supportive. I really do believe he can be whatever he wants and that he can be prosperous doing it. Even if he decides to follow in my footsteps I have no doubt that he'll take control of the dream and wield it to his advantage.
As for me, I'm just glad I've matured considerably from that dork I hear in the tapes I've been listening to.
Which is not to say that I don't enjoy doing the Bambo Syndicate stuff. The difference is that the Bambo project has only one goal: fun. You know, if I'd had that attitude about every musical endeavor I've ever been involved with over the years I don't doubt that I would have been more successful. Ambition, at least to me, is the mortal enemy of art. I guess what I mean to say is that if you're going to dream you should at least be happy with the dream itself, not how it turns out.
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