Still Hanging In

I have written before on the art of "hanging in". It's one of those things that tends to separate the successful from the not-so-successful. I recently saw this pie chart of Facebook. Clearly, my music degree(s) were a complete waste of money, if this chart has any validity.

Yes, a music degree can help you to teach (done that, and still do), perform (did that too- though, to be honest, I am not crazy about doing too much of it... though I do), compose (yes...in the last 4 months I have composed about 5 hours of music. Not for free, either). And if all goes as planned I should be able to avoid the die in poverty thing. (A certain financial institution almost made that happen, but I managed to dodge that bullet thankyouverymuch. I hope their penises fall off spontaneously.)

So here I am still at it. And that, dahlings, is the key to whatever success I enjoy. I am a stubborn bastard.

I am approaching my "Freedom 55" birthday. That term, for you non-Canucks, comes from an advertisement a number of years ago promising Financial Freedom to do whatever you wanted to do without that pesky requirement of actually working for a living. You know...you invest so wisely (with London Life- who knew insurance was that sexy!) that you are playing shuffleboard in some resort, your Depends never leaking and your Polydent sticking fast to your gums. Indeed, you can now live the next 35 years doing absolutely nothing of value and live your days in a constant state of vacation!

I'd rather shoot myself.

You see, when I win the lottery (I am expecting to do so in the next week or 2...you heard it here first) I am not going going to quit anything. I am going to do exactly what I am currently doing. Though I might have a couple of pieces of new gear. Freedom 55 was likely a myth in 1989, and it still is today. And I already had the pleasure of telling the aforementioned financial institution to shove their bank up their ass- one branch at a time. I was, however,  much more genteel about it. I have too much fucking class to do otherwise. It was better than retiring. Or almost.

And as I have told a number of my friends and colleagues of the musical persuasion: why would you want to retire? And retire from what? Might be different if you were a dentist. Or a Claims Adjustor. Or a proctologist. How many of them might be inspired to become musicians once they change careers? Indeed, one should do what one has always wanted to do before you are too dead to do it.

I was contemplating this great wisdom last week when I got a call from my old friend Dutch Robinson. He has written and recorded a new song in tribute to the late Pete Seeger entitled, "I'm Glad I Knew You". Dutch and I go way back- 33 years to be precise- when I recorded him for the first time.

Those were interesting days. (Geek alert coming....) Dutch and I were among the first people to record using  Linn Drums. We set them up in the control room and everyone eyed this mysterious box suspiciously. You could record a song without a drummer and still have kinda "real-sounding" drums. As an added bonus, this machine would not try and sleep with your girlfriend, would not get shit-faced before a gig and would only play fills you had programmed.

Anyway, my fave Dutch Robinson story is about a session we were doing quite late at night. There were a lot of people in the control room- none of whom I knew. Some were a little, uh, scary-looking. I, with my head down ignoring the more bizarre goings-on was recording a sax part when I  accidentally erased part of his lead vocal.

Yes, kids, there was no CONTROL-Z in those days. It was gone. For good. I thought I was a dead man...how was I going to tell Dutch, to stand up to this seasoned, experienced industry professional (who is about a foot taller than me...) and inform him of what I have done.

So I did. "Um...Dutch...man I am really sorry...but...aww...I mean....I...uh...erased part of your vocal...I am, like...soooo fucking sorry..."

He shrugged and smiled. "Don't worry about it. I'll juss' go do it again."

And he did. Perfectly. One take. As usual.

So, yes, I have been a huge fan of this man ever since. A real class-act.

So, last week he asked me to mix "I'm Glad I Knew You" for him. It will be an honour and a thrill to work together again after all this time.

He is 68 years old. Still writing, recording and performing. He's singing and mentoring young artists- even in the Hip-Hop world. Yes, young people making music hanging on to his every word and benefiting from his incredible experience. He will be on tour with DRUM this summer before heading to tour the UK and Europe in the fall to support his new album.

So much for Freedom 55. So much for retiring, so much for quitting. I told him yesterday how much I admire that- his work and creative schedule is something we should all be doing. That's what "hanging-in" is all about.

Indeed, he will do what he loves until he can't anymore. He has always and will continue to "hang in". And so will I. There really isn't another option.

Being There

Among the other groovy things I have been doing lately, I have been teaching again.

I have always rather enjoyed it, and for me it is a way of giving back. In my current part-time teaching gig I have to opportunity to work with young adults who are aspiring audio engineers, producers, film- makers or musicians. I have taught a bunch of courses ranging from Location Audio to Film Scoring to Career Management.

It’s wonderful that I no longer have to deal with classroom discipline problems. ‘Johnny’ can tell me to “fuck off” if he wishes- he is paying quite handsomely for the privilege. But when said ‘Johnny’ is looking for a job in a very competitive, but surprisingly closely-knit, industry he may ultimately question the wisdom of his words. Nor do I take it personally when someone nods off in the middle of a lecture on the difference between publishing royalties and mechanicals. Indeed, for those of us who have endured the teaching profession in a public high school, my current gig would seem like a panacea.

Work not handed in? That’s a zero. No, I don’t mind if you leave early. No, I don’t really mind if you miss class. Again. No, it doesn’t matter why you didn’t hand in your work. You had anthrax? Damn shame. Fallen arches? Your girlfriend’s uterus fell out? That must suck. You got lost because you had to drive a friend to another friend’s house and you lost track of the time and your car wouldn’t start and once you got it going you were hungry so you stopped at McDonalds and there was a huge line at the drive-thru and by the time you got my Happy Meal class was almost over anyways, so you figured….

No probs, man. I have become so very…Zen about it all. Just don’t ask me for a reference next year when you graduate.

One of my preaching teaching topics is how I got to score a TV series a number of years ago. I was given an episode to score. So I did it. Quickly. It was maybe five minutes of music to write. I got it Monday morning, delivered a draft Monday afternoon, spoke with the producers Monday night, fixed and re-delivered by noon on Tuesday. It was approved, and on the air that Friday. I was offered another episode right away. Bada Bing.

Unbeknownst to me, two other guys were given the same episode to score. Apparently after 2 weeks, neither of them had handed anything in. They were probably  “not into it” or were having trouble deciding which snare drum sound to use. Nonetheless, it reinforced something I have always believed: You don’t necessarily have to be fabulously good (though it helps); but you do have to be THERE.

This has become a kind of mantra for me: The most important part of success is showing up. Since so many- perhaps most- don’t, it certainly cuts down on the competition.