It is often argued that music is a young man and woman’s game; that songwriters and performers do their best work quickly at a young age, and then burn out creatively.
This myth is described around mathematics, too. Consider author Edward Dolnick’s litany of mathematicians, and their ages at monumental accomplishments:
“Newton was indeed in his prime at twenty-three, for mathematics…Einstein was twenty-six when he came up with the special theory of relativity, Heisenberg twenty-five when he formulated the uncertainty principle model of the atom. ‘If you haven’t done outstanding work in mathematics by 30, you never will,’ says Ronald Graham, one of today’s best-regarding mathematicians.” (229)
But Dolvick later describes how the arts don’t follow this myth:
“Michelangelo completed the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel at thirty-seven; Beethoven finished his Fifth Symphony at thirty-seven; Tolstoy published War and Peace at forty-one; Shakespeare wrote King Lear at forty-two. But the list of artists who continued to produce masterpieces decades later than that–Monet, Cervantes, Titian, Picasso, Verdi–is long.” (231)
But contemporary pop music–and I’m considering classic rock acts in contemporary–does appear to follow the myth that the best work happens for the young songwriter or performer, doesn’t it?
Well, maybe. Is it the songwriting, or the music machinery supporting it?
Let’s consider factors that surround pop music:
1. Since the baby boomer generation, youth has been celebrated, with often too much regard. Because this is where the advertising money is, this is the age of the pop acts signed. (Kudos to Craig Ferguson for ranting about this!)
2. Pop music is not as much about deep artistic reflection, but catchy and superficial hits.
3. Pop music is still promoted by commercial radio, and those who invest in pop stars chose youth to have a longer…
The myth might be that music is for the youth, but that’s for pop music. A great song can be written by anyone at any age.
It might not be a pop song, or a song that music label exces will market, but it might reach the human experience, like War and Peace.
I came across an inspirational quote in a book I’m reading about Isaac Newton:
“Every aspiring mathematician knows the frustration of spending entire days staring at a single page in a textbook, or even a single line, waiting for insight to dawn. It is heartening to see one of the greatest of all mathematicians in almost the same plight” (Dolnick 228).
If you feel like you are climbing a mountain trying to reach success with your craft, don’t feel alone.
I love that metaphor, we are all waiting for insight to dawn.
* * *
Book recommendation: The Clockwork Universe: Isaac Newton, the Royal Society & the Birth of the Modern World, by Edward Dolnick
I’m not quite interested in math, in fact the topic brings be back to fear during middle school and high school, but this book about the modern scientific world is fascinating.
Who Cares about Country Music’s Identify Crisis on Radio?
Complaining about the identity of a music genre based on current radio formats seems silly now a days.
Let’s consider the current country music crisis: “How country music went crazy: A comprehensive timeline of the genre’s identity crisis” bit.ly/17c9klo
I know genres change and people get upset, but it seems like the only people who care about the country crisis are those at the top of the food chain. While radio is still the way most new music is heard, how most new country singles are digested, which equals sales, it’s impact lessens each year, heck each quarter.
The kicker: If you go to Youtube and search “Johnny Cash cover,” 925,000 results pop up. Search George Jones cover: 473,000 results.
We live in a time where people are discovering more and more music every day, without the radio. Genres are going to be blending, but music fans will study the history of originators through Youtube and websites…
Country is doing just fine, unless all you listen to is top-40 radio formats. And if that’s the case, than one could argue an identity crisis for any type of music.
The Creation Is More Important Than the Explanation
I once tried to explain to a piano player why I bring two guitars to gigs, so I could play certain songs, like “One Way Road” on a retuned guitar.
(Guitar players will understand this: the second guitar is tuned a whole-step down, so a C chord is a Bb. It’s so I can sing songs in my vocal range, but still use certain open chords with intricate riffs.)
Her response was, “The guitar player in my band changes the key to songs for me all the time, and he only brings one guitar. Can’t you just…”
“No, I understand why that works for many songs, especially blues–I do that too–” I replied, “but let me show you why that doesn’t work for this riff.”
I showed her the opening riff to “One Way Road.”
“See how my fingers need the open strings for the dissonance? How the pull-offs are essential to the tone?”
She looked skeptical.
“See how I need the chord shape to this riff, but I need sing it in Bb for my vocal range?” I pleaded.
“I don’t know…” She said. “My guitar player changes keys…”
So I gave up explaining. Her frame of reference was the piano, where changing keys can happen more easily than certain guitar parts; where a note isn’t bent, slide, pulled-off or hammered on.
Plus, she had made up her mind that I was wrong.
More importantly, I realized that it didn’t matter if I convinced her or not. I would always play “One Way Road” on my whole-step down guitar. She wasn’t convincing me to only bring one guitar to gigs.
When you are the creator, you don’t need to explain yourself. The creation is more important than the explanation.
An early version of the song, with an example of the opening riff:
Injuries are bound to happen when work requires physical labor.
And yes, being a traveling musician is physical labor! I’m often carrying speakers, guitars, and boxes of gear, sometimes for blocks when gigging in cities like NYC or Chicago, five nights a week.
During these last two years, I’ve fallen through my apartment stairs, sprained my ankle, and dropped a speaker on my foot.
But the most prevalent and annoying injuries have been a tiny, simply accident: pinching my fingers with mic and speaker stands! Blood blisters are not a guitar player’s friend.
We worry about the catastrophic, but the little accidents most often derail a gig, yet they are usual preventable.
Musicians, be careful out there! And wear gloves when packing gear!
(Note, I’m fine and injury free, since the spring.)
