If you can’t tell me what you’d like to be happening, you don’t have a problem yet. You’re just complaining. A problem only exists if there is a difference between what is actually happening and what you desire to be happening.
I was heavily schooled for many years on piano. I was reciting classical compositions at nine, accompanied by six years of classical training. I tackled five years of comprehensive music theory. I studied vocally with many, many musical theatre vocal instructors from Princeton and Julliard, among others. It’s a pleasure working with other schooled musicians like Scott McCloud and Phill Kirby, for example. We all share a language and communicate on another level. There’s a chemistry there. It’s much different working with musicians with no formal training. It’s not a lesser experience by any means, just different.
I did the jazz-thing in college. I did several variations on the cover band-thing for many years. It all boiled down to one thing. Original music. I can play a half-dozen instruments. So what. It doesn’t matter if I play the piano or the guitar or the kazoo. I can play an *ss-load of cover tunes. So what? To exploit a cliché, “it’s all about the music.” Sting is a bad-*ss bassist. He plays half-dozen instruments. So what. It’s his songwriting most people think of when Sting comes to mind. Tantric sex is a strong second.
I’m an accomplished actor. I struggled many years choosing which road to make a heavy commitment to. What persuaded me to take a serious music plunge was the difference between being myself and pretending to be somebody else. As an actor, you’re given the lines and given the direction. There are elements of yourself you bring to each character, but it still isn’t something you can call your own. Henceforth, when the time came to choose between cover music and original music, I came back to the same notion of being myself vs. pretending to be somebody else. Therein lies the ultimate resource for developing your own music and vocal style.
If half your show involves Sting or Police tunes, people are going to say you sing or sound like Sting. Why? Because you’re singing like Sting. You’re singing Sting tunes. If half your show involves Dave Matthews tunes, people are going to say you sing like Dave Matthews. Why? Because you’re singing like Dave Matthews. You’re singing Dave tunes. If I wear an McDonald’s uniform long enough, people are going to think I work there. Just sing. Stop listening to other artists if you must. What’s missing from most artists these days is themselves. There are no risks. It’s karaoke at this point. What would Sting say? Seriously.
There are occupational hazards you can’t avoid. There are those who compare me with Dave Matthews. I beg to differ. One night a girl said to me, “You sound like Dave Matthews.” I said, “If I played the same songs on the piano all night, would you think the same thing?” She said, “Come to think of it, no.” One night a guy said to me, “You sound like Bruce Hornsby.” I said, “If I played the same songs on the guitar all night, would you think the same thing?” He said, “Come to think of it, no.”
What all this leads me to is this. From my experience, what pitfalls artists often go through has nothing to do with anything! It has to do with involving yourself in a project or a situation that you honestly believe in. That’s going to involve investing a serious amount of time and taking an ample amount of risks. One of the keys to my success is keeping things simple, willingness to travel, consistency, setting short and long-term goals and taking risks along the way. Sometimes I make good money. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I win. Often I lose. But sometimes I win. I have to take the good, the bad and the ugly. Business before pleasure. There are bad guys, but there are good guys. There are no shortcuts.
When I started, I knew it would be at least ten years before I noticed any serious results. Convincing a unit of musicians to pay their dues with you for more than three is another story. Some local artists and musicians are a prime example of what not to do. Some begin projects, fold their cards six months later and then start something new. Some change their name every week. Six months is a grain of sand in the large scheme of things. I think about some of my idols or heroes. What coarse did they take? Did they make it in six months? Did they jump from project to project? There are exceptions, but I think you’ll be hard-pressed to find any success story in the music industry under 5 years of commitment. Let me add that remaining in a project for a long period of time doesn’t mean you can’t evolve in and around that project. In my experience, it makes it easier to evolve. It gives you a rock. Too often musicians fail to challenge themselves and blame the marriage they should maintain with other band members.
Cover bands are a dime a dozen. Bar bands are a dime a dozen. Bars are a dime a dozen. They come and go like porn stars. I can cover material 20 years from now if all else fails. So why on Earth would I do it now? Money? Bills? Then I’m too comfortable. Modify and simplify your situation. Only you can avoid day jobs. Drive a used car. Save. Think about it. I’m young. They say if you put 10% of every paycheck you make in savings starting when you’re 30 years old, you’ll have a million dollars by the time you’re ready to retire. I try approaching music the same way. Most importantly, approach God and family that way. Invest the time you spend making music more wisely. You’ll get out of it what you put into it. I’ll make my colleagues a deal. 20 years from now, if none of us have risen to any level of notable success, we’ll get together and start some kind of tribute or cover band.
