Heart vs Hustle

I've been asked so often about the balance of money and artistry as a working musician. So let's dive in. 

Disclaimer: The only job I've ever held is that of a musician - as a lead vocalist in both an a cappella quartet and a big band. And yes, both of these by definition are not get rich quick options. 

So further disclaimer, I may not be the best person to ask about money versus artistry. I live somewhere between the famous music makers you all know and the rest of the musicians I admire - who hold down full-time or part time jobs in addition to their musical aspirations. And where I live as a musician is actually a very tiny, lonely place. place. place. place. (See what I did there?)

In my experience, every musician starts out in a very similar way. We grind through countless hours, honing our talent or passion. We work towards finding a tribe of believers. Most of us walk through fields of career-ending land mines with a singular determination to succeed. And through low paying gigs, lackluster audience size and most assuredly general apathy, we all endeavor to be the last person standing. 

With that being said, it's worth mentioning musicians who are at the highest levels. This is not me. These performers won't  have the near-constant stress of profit vs. passion like the rest of us (I'm looking at you Beyonce, Chris Stapleton and Zach Bryan). They are considerably freer to follow their muse - their grandkids are too. And they've made it to a different place. Problems still exist in this place, just not the constant tug of commerce and craftsmanship. 

A quick aside: So if you work hard (see the paragraph preceding the last paragraph) AND your random turns are lucky enough to be the correct random turns, maybe just maybe you will become an "overnight" success like the Stapletons and Bryans of the world. The public face of that success is typically tied to perceived social media genius or because no music has ever sounded as good in the entirety of human history. More likely though, you were in the right room at the right time when the right finger pointed your way. But I digress. With some luck, your style becomes branded by a popular vote, and you follow that aforementioned muse to stadium riches or to a slow death aboard cruise ships. 

For the rest of us (99.9868% based on absolutely no scientific evidence), a musical career will always be defined by that constant struggle between artistry and money. And for the sake of this piece, this is the segment of musicians I'm talking to...or about...or on behalf of.

On the "artistry" side of a musician's brain lives questions like "How long can I survive low paying gigs in a jazz club?" Or "How can I withstand the onslaught of 'no's' from festivals, clubs and theaters who won't take a chance on my harp-driven dirges?" And "How do I pay for studios, travel or top musicians while singing on a hay bale with a megaphone at a county fair?" (Been there, done that).

As to the very important "money" side of that same brain, other thoughts may dominate. "It's comparably straightforward to book a few weddings/bars/festivals as a tribute band over shows with my original flute pop ditties." Or "Wouldn't it be much easier - at least for my self esteem - to grab an iPad and sing hits of the Eagles to an appreciative crowd instead of taking requests from my family?" 

So what to do? 

Try to balance both artistry and money? It seems that if one choice succeeds in even a small way, time management becomes much more difficult for the other. (I've tried to be an outlier here. But it's a tightrope walk not for the faint of heart.) 

Go for artistry and damn the critics? You know a richer human experience may literally be tied to self-expression. That's a hard fact. But so are grocery bills. And though it can be lucrative to walk in someone else's shoes long term, there is a glass ceiling in that scenario - a near perfect guarantee your original voice will not be stamped on the world - if this is important to you. 

Leave artistry in the dust and focus on the money? But dang, at times I have literally considered that the audience is not coming for me in this framework. And though I am quite sure this is tied directly to my fragile ego, my songs will not be remembered when I am long gone. I also realize I am completely interchangeable with any other vocalist who doesn't have to look like Steve Perry either. 

So is it better to say "I don't need money, I'm an artist" and split that last kidney bean three ways? Or alternatively say, "Artistry is overrated," as I  plan my next ABBA tribute with an unwarranted smugness? And by the way, ABBA would be an interesting choice. I mean, c'mon, "Money, Money, Money" is one of their hits. But so is "I Have a Dream."

If you've read this far, you can tell I've thought about this subject often. Of course I have. Social media posts, friends, compadres on the rise and mentors who've fallen from grace all dance around my thoughts as I write this and plan my next chapter. 

And my advice? Carefully consider what YOU truly want to achieve - both the foundation AND the end goal. It's an overused cliche, but don't let others decide for you. In my opinion, the music will only carry you so far and sometimes not where you wanted to be. I've seen tribute artists who are selling out the Palladium in London and original country artists busking on the streets of Nashville who still sing circles around those on Billboard's top charts. And I don’t know if either is intentional, but I hope so.

As to my personal story in all of this? I've managed, not necessarily by skill and forethought, to find brave people who believe in my music. I've performed at over 4000 shows with a mix of originals, b-sides and covers too. 

So in the end, I'll keep hoping that there are those brave enough to leave their mark with no excuses. I'll keep promoting all artists who fight the good fight in spite of a lack of funding or in spite of short term losses. And I'll learn the words to "Don't Stop Believin'" just in case. 

A PS For No Reason:

Trading in on the 50 biggest artists of the last 5 decades (I know they are not in the top 50, but I do wish someone would start a Maverick's tribute) or donning a sudden drawl despite being raised in northern Michigan will usually be less rocky than the highest hills of a passion project. To be clear, not better. Just simpler. It's much less work on the marketing side - which is, what, 50% of an artist's career success? 80%? I'm not sure, but it's a lot. There is a built in crowd. And it's easy to see that filling a venue with someone else's work could feel better than bucking a trend for the delight of three strangers. But then, those three strangers could be the heart of a fan club that turns to millions. And those millions could be…

Now get out of my brain.