I've tried to say this over and over. Onstage is usually not the best place to get across ideas that take more than a few sentences to articulate. While a simple 'thank you' is always great, and I'll keep giving them, this is an attempt to be a bit more specific as to WHY I keep saying thank you, give it a context. Today seems as good a day as any other. It will always be a bit incomplete. Could be silly, who knows, but I still like trying.
Happiness: Challenge/Gift.
There is a lot of misunderstanding about RockLife™. There are so many romantic notions out there of hedonism, opulence and freedom, right alongside whiny interviews, dysfunction, suicide and everything else. From the inside, as far as I can tell, it is that awful AND it is that great. My time being an artist has been a sort of chipping away at the stuff that seems to lead to or at least exacerbate the darkness, to get to the bare essence of what it actually interesting and fun about making art for a living.
I think of it a bit like this: Rather than making a painting, it's been a bit more like a sculpture, where I started with this big hunk of rock (no pun intended) called 'I Want To Be An Artist', and through removal of the bits I don't enjoy, I've ended up where I'm at. As with any life, there are challenges that just come with the territory, but I figure I'm going to work hard no matter what, everything seems to take its toll, so I might as well start with the idea of doing something I love and see where that leads, rather than starting with something I don't and trying to manufacture joy within that. Other people have done it in that other, more compartmentalized way. They seemingly lead very happy lives, so I'm not knocking that. I'm actually envious of it sometimes in that grass-is-always-greener way, but it just hasn't been for me.
However, I've learned about enough things in RockLife that aren't for me, either. So I'm left with some weird middle ground between the craziness of RockLife and the confines of Straight Life. I have found a place in there where I'm pretty happy, and it has everything to do with the people that have come to shows, bought stuff, kept in touch through the whole maze. That's you. Thank you for even reading this far.
Money: The Basics.
This tour began with someone giving me a ride from Heathrow to Newport, Wales, a 2-hour trip. All I did was put a little note up and a few people wrote offering to help. I put him on the list for the London show, but it obviously wasn't about that. I offered to pay for tolls and petrol, but he wouldn't have it.
This alone is not that big a deal, although it's still pretty remarkable when you think about it. It's just one tiny example of how, without your generosity and hospitality, this life simply wouldn't be possible for me. On many tours, I don't rent cars or get hotels, but rather drive with someone and stay in homes. Partly, this is simply because when I stay in hotels and stuff, I just don't really like how separate I end up feeling from the very people that are interested enough in what I'm doing to warrant me being out there in the first place. Beyond that, though, while I've been on plenty of tours with vans and buses and drivers and roadies and hotels and on and on, I've learned over the years that paying for all that is just incredibly expensive. It requires bigger shows, higher ticket prices, higher merchandise prices, longer tours, all things I don't enjoy. It also just requires more of my time and energy than I want to give to RockWorld. As much as I love getting to do this for a living, I've realized over and over again that it's simply not worth it if I lose touch with family and friends, if I miss my daughter's school events, if I get bored with this music, if I work with people that don't share my idealism; any fun that I get from touring doesn't balance all that out.
I've taken steps to make this work as well; I often tour alone, record at home or with friends, maintain my own website, book a lot of my own shows, make my own CDs and T-shirts and stuff, just do everything I can to keep my costs low so that I don't need to generate a ton of money to make this possible. For all of that, though, there is someone who has helped with a show, driven me around, made a cool design for a t-shirt, helped send orders out to people, all for very little or no money, usually just some kind of cool barter.
Lots of people have asked over the years about the way I do sliding-scale for the stuff I sell. Many of them wonder if that ends up losing me a lot of money. Some people pay less for whatever reason, but it seems almost eerily balanced out by people paying on the higher end. Frankly, I think it usually averages out to what a 'normal' price would be, but it creates a sense of trust and active exchange that seems to ripple out into all the other aspects of this life. It's a good reminder of how intertwined I am with anyone caring enough to support these ideas in a literal way. Thank you for the support, in basic and less tangible ways.
Time: Dad.
I mentioned my daughter in the last bit, but as music and fatherhood have been the twin centers of my adult life, I'll try to elaborate a bit: I had a dad that wasn't around for various reasons. I was very determined to break that cycle of absence, to reconcile that dream with my dreams of being a touring artist. I've known a lot of dads that weren't very good singers, and a lot more singers that were really shitty dads. I'm proud of the balance I've managed to achieve between being a serious artist and a present father, even when it means the tens of thousands of miles, shorter trips that make less money and cost more, lack of sleep, strange schedules, all the creative adjustments and juggling it takes to fit it in. I know very well that I owe a lot of it to your support and understanding for what is, in many ways, a very idiosyncratic model for being a touring artist. I also owe it to a daughter that is very accepting of her idiosyncratic dad. Thank you for helping me balance.
Space: To Make Something(s) Interesting.
I just played in the same club in Birmingham (UK) for the third time in 7 months. The first time was a solo tour but with a loud band for most of the set. The second time was a very talky, weird solo acoustic thing. The third time was with a very loud band that hadn't played the UK for ten years. None were all crazy sold out or anything, but all were well-attended and spirited. All three were incredibly fun for me. It's sort of funny to imagine the perspective of someone seeing all three shows, so different, in such a short span of time. It is mostly just amazing to me that anyone would come to all three, bring their friends, be accepting and supportive of all these wildly different ideas. Spread that out over the last 15 years, a handful of band names, performances from solo shows in restaurant basements and tiny chapels to rock bands opening for Sepultura... and I just feel really lucky. Thank you for caring about any of it or all of it.
Chance: To Be A Bit Better.
Many people in many audiences over the years have commented that I'm very friendly. While I appreciate that, it's very easy to be friendly when everyone is being so nice. You should see me in traffic the morning after the show, or when someone is being disrespectful to me or someone I care about. I'm sometimes not so friendly then. I'm not so bad, but like most people, I can be a bit of a temperamental mess. The happiness that I feel at shows, both onstage and off, from the singing itself and from the company, generally leads to me being in a better overall mood than at just about any other time in my life. Thank you for an opportunity to be a bit better.
Choice: That You Choose Me.
We are in a time of seemingly infinite choice on any number of levels. In Rock especially, everyone and their dog has a band with a FaceSpace page. That you keep choosing to come to listen to my music, come to my shows, buy the stuff I make, are the simplest and biggest things of all, really. Simple, excellent exchange. I will keep trying my best to make things and performances and situations that are worth it. I will keep trying to thank you with my words and actions. Thank you for choosing this.
Thank you.
Jonah Is Here. So Are You.
Happiness: Challenge/Gift.
There is a lot of misunderstanding about RockLife™. There are so many romantic notions out there of hedonism, opulence and freedom, right alongside whiny interviews, dysfunction, suicide and everything else. From the inside, as far as I can tell, it is that awful AND it is that great. My time being an artist has been a sort of chipping away at the stuff that seems to lead to or at least exacerbate the darkness, to get to the bare essence of what it actually interesting and fun about making art for a living.
I think of it a bit like this: Rather than making a painting, it's been a bit more like a sculpture, where I started with this big hunk of rock (no pun intended) called 'I Want To Be An Artist', and through removal of the bits I don't enjoy, I've ended up where I'm at. As with any life, there are challenges that just come with the territory, but I figure I'm going to work hard no matter what, everything seems to take its toll, so I might as well start with the idea of doing something I love and see where that leads, rather than starting with something I don't and trying to manufacture joy within that. Other people have done it in that other, more compartmentalized way. They seemingly lead very happy lives, so I'm not knocking that. I'm actually envious of it sometimes in that grass-is-always-greener way, but it just hasn't been for me.
However, I've learned about enough things in RockLife that aren't for me, either. So I'm left with some weird middle ground between the craziness of RockLife and the confines of Straight Life. I have found a place in there where I'm pretty happy, and it has everything to do with the people that have come to shows, bought stuff, kept in touch through the whole maze. That's you. Thank you for even reading this far.
Money: The Basics.
This tour began with someone giving me a ride from Heathrow to Newport, Wales, a 2-hour trip. All I did was put a little note up and a few people wrote offering to help. I put him on the list for the London show, but it obviously wasn't about that. I offered to pay for tolls and petrol, but he wouldn't have it.
This alone is not that big a deal, although it's still pretty remarkable when you think about it. It's just one tiny example of how, without your generosity and hospitality, this life simply wouldn't be possible for me. On many tours, I don't rent cars or get hotels, but rather drive with someone and stay in homes. Partly, this is simply because when I stay in hotels and stuff, I just don't really like how separate I end up feeling from the very people that are interested enough in what I'm doing to warrant me being out there in the first place. Beyond that, though, while I've been on plenty of tours with vans and buses and drivers and roadies and hotels and on and on, I've learned over the years that paying for all that is just incredibly expensive. It requires bigger shows, higher ticket prices, higher merchandise prices, longer tours, all things I don't enjoy. It also just requires more of my time and energy than I want to give to RockWorld. As much as I love getting to do this for a living, I've realized over and over again that it's simply not worth it if I lose touch with family and friends, if I miss my daughter's school events, if I get bored with this music, if I work with people that don't share my idealism; any fun that I get from touring doesn't balance all that out.
I've taken steps to make this work as well; I often tour alone, record at home or with friends, maintain my own website, book a lot of my own shows, make my own CDs and T-shirts and stuff, just do everything I can to keep my costs low so that I don't need to generate a ton of money to make this possible. For all of that, though, there is someone who has helped with a show, driven me around, made a cool design for a t-shirt, helped send orders out to people, all for very little or no money, usually just some kind of cool barter.
Lots of people have asked over the years about the way I do sliding-scale for the stuff I sell. Many of them wonder if that ends up losing me a lot of money. Some people pay less for whatever reason, but it seems almost eerily balanced out by people paying on the higher end. Frankly, I think it usually averages out to what a 'normal' price would be, but it creates a sense of trust and active exchange that seems to ripple out into all the other aspects of this life. It's a good reminder of how intertwined I am with anyone caring enough to support these ideas in a literal way. Thank you for the support, in basic and less tangible ways.
Time: Dad.
I mentioned my daughter in the last bit, but as music and fatherhood have been the twin centers of my adult life, I'll try to elaborate a bit: I had a dad that wasn't around for various reasons. I was very determined to break that cycle of absence, to reconcile that dream with my dreams of being a touring artist. I've known a lot of dads that weren't very good singers, and a lot more singers that were really shitty dads. I'm proud of the balance I've managed to achieve between being a serious artist and a present father, even when it means the tens of thousands of miles, shorter trips that make less money and cost more, lack of sleep, strange schedules, all the creative adjustments and juggling it takes to fit it in. I know very well that I owe a lot of it to your support and understanding for what is, in many ways, a very idiosyncratic model for being a touring artist. I also owe it to a daughter that is very accepting of her idiosyncratic dad. Thank you for helping me balance.
Space: To Make Something(s) Interesting.
I just played in the same club in Birmingham (UK) for the third time in 7 months. The first time was a solo tour but with a loud band for most of the set. The second time was a very talky, weird solo acoustic thing. The third time was with a very loud band that hadn't played the UK for ten years. None were all crazy sold out or anything, but all were well-attended and spirited. All three were incredibly fun for me. It's sort of funny to imagine the perspective of someone seeing all three shows, so different, in such a short span of time. It is mostly just amazing to me that anyone would come to all three, bring their friends, be accepting and supportive of all these wildly different ideas. Spread that out over the last 15 years, a handful of band names, performances from solo shows in restaurant basements and tiny chapels to rock bands opening for Sepultura... and I just feel really lucky. Thank you for caring about any of it or all of it.
Chance: To Be A Bit Better.
Many people in many audiences over the years have commented that I'm very friendly. While I appreciate that, it's very easy to be friendly when everyone is being so nice. You should see me in traffic the morning after the show, or when someone is being disrespectful to me or someone I care about. I'm sometimes not so friendly then. I'm not so bad, but like most people, I can be a bit of a temperamental mess. The happiness that I feel at shows, both onstage and off, from the singing itself and from the company, generally leads to me being in a better overall mood than at just about any other time in my life. Thank you for an opportunity to be a bit better.
Choice: That You Choose Me.
We are in a time of seemingly infinite choice on any number of levels. In Rock especially, everyone and their dog has a band with a FaceSpace page. That you keep choosing to come to listen to my music, come to my shows, buy the stuff I make, are the simplest and biggest things of all, really. Simple, excellent exchange. I will keep trying my best to make things and performances and situations that are worth it. I will keep trying to thank you with my words and actions. Thank you for choosing this.
Thank you.
Jonah Is Here. So Are You.
