A couple years ago, Community Records changed my life. ABE had just decided to continue to write and record Dumpster Generation and tour for half a year even though the douche bag from our hometown who had offered us 25g worth of studio time had disappeared and stopped answering his phone. He had booked the time with Matt Bayles, and I had even met with Matt several times to discuss the album, but when the time came to pay, the douchebag gave us all the run-around until we gave up on him. Starcia (who was still in the band at that time) proceeded to get in contact with Greg and D-Ray to see if they wanted to release it. I barely knew these guys. They said yes.
Without so much as a hand shake, they proceeded to front every fucking dime for the first pressing of Dumpster Generation. Everything they would do from this point out would far exceed any expectations I ever had. They made a profound difference in my life, and I could never repay them for the inspiration and sense of direction they have passed on to me. At that point in time, I was becoming disillusioned with everything. I was still looking for God in other religions, in hopes that the faith I had grown with was just one of the false ones. College was on the horizon; my music was about to take the backseat because becoming a wage-earning musician meant sacrificing all the things I loved about it. But just as I was learning of the Middle Road of The Buddha, Community Records showed me the Middle Road of The Industry, and I have traveled around this country five times since then, making life-long friends and learning valuable lessons about the world.
A Billion Ernies is something that, once it's gone, leaves a hole the size of the Gulf of Mexico in my heart. Anyone who was not in the band could never understand what it was like to be up there playing a style of music you knew most wouldn't like, with a message you knew most would hate, trying to win them over with kindness and energy. Two summers ago, a kid came up to me after a show in New Orleans and told me that he had seen us four times live previously, but that was the first time he got it and loved it. I can't explain why this happened, but I like the fact that we eventually got him to open his mind a little to enjoy something he wouldn't have had we not taken the time out of our lives to drive around in a van four months out of the year. We quite literally had an impact on his mind. His synapses made different connections that day to provide stimulation for whatever area of the brain signals pleasure from sonic input. His perception of the ABE stimuli was altered. That's a pretty beautiful and profound thing to ponder.
This mind-bending property of music is what I love, and why I am more than ok with giving my music away for free. When I sit down to write a song, I'm not thinking about how many people would want to buy it. I'm thinking of how to put my thoughts into words that people can sympathize with and take meaning and strength from. I'm thinking about pushing the boundaries of stylistic meshing while keeping the roots alive. Money is so far from my mind as even a realistic goal at this point that pushing the bar forward and contributing to the needed mental revolution in this world are my only goals. These are the goals and motivations behind many of us at Community Records, even if all of us don't say it. I happen to believe that people should focus their work in this world on positive things that build them and their brothers and sisters up. I also happen to believe that you must be the change you want to see, and that's why I'm moving to New Orleans.
Some people will probably take this as me continuing to follow a path that leads to nowhere. My whole life people have arrogantly preached at me about what it is to be a man, what I need to do to grow up, the importance of financial security, and the path to righteousness. Hypocrisy betrayed all these people and their ideologies with them to stagnancy and submission. Hate mail is no new experience for me. I, unlike most of my friends whom I have contact with on a daily basis, have had to defend my artistic expression for the most superficial of reasons against people I will never meet. Most people don't have to defend why they work at McDonald's, joined the military, or bought a yacht to some random jerk who felt the need to email them about their qualms, yet I have had to defend why it's rad to put a hardcore breakdown in a ska song that rails against consumerism (or Satan, for the old-school ABE fans). Friends and family don't realize how hurtful it can be when I have to tell them yet again that yes, our music is free, and that they should download it sometime just in case they actually enjoy what I spend most of my free time working on instead of always focusing on exactly what they think I should be doing with that time.
My New Orleans family knows what it's like to be me and Kassandra. We have been fighting together for several years to keep DIY music alive in the face of financial ruin, illigitimicy in the eyes of our peers, and the ever-growing shit spectre of commercial rock n roll. It really does feel as if we are trying to lead people from being over-charged to drink from a river they know damn well is polluted with shit and other poisonous wastes to a much cleaner and cheaper source of water. For all who wondered why Kassandra worked three jobs so I could go out on the road, it's because she believed in the less-tangible side of our efforts. She knows as well as I that our children's minds are being poisoned by the corporate monoculture that can only be truly seen and felt by rolling around the country in a van past the the Wal-Martvilles in the heart of every fucking town in America.
You've seen the Occupy Movements try to make a change by camping out in the public. Judgements of their methods have been spewed from the mouths of political pundits and wage-slaves alike, all forgetting one thing: Corporate America has already occupied your town. They OWN your town, your politicians, and your future. If we want a meaningful existence outside the world of war and profits, we have to be around those who want the same, and we must help each other build it. This meaningful existence does not reside in the pursuit for more and more material wealth, personal security, or power. I believe that this meaningful existence is more boring in some ways, but much more exciting in other ways than the existence your leaders have laid before you. Maybe the idea of brewing the best beer, growing the best tomatoes, or writing the best song in your town may not be as ambitious a goal as owning sweatshops in China, being the biggest rock star ever, or becoming the #1 country in the whole wide world, but at least it's realistic. Achieving modest, attainable goals is much more satisfying than never reaching that top echelon, and It's not going to require forcing people out of business or stomping on the rights of others.
In the end, this move is not just for me. It's for my wife who loves Stuck Lucky just as much as I do, and dealt with all the crap that comes with being married to me; it's for Greg and D-Ray who have paid for gas, van troubles, and vinyl releases, and toured with us with or without their influential, amazing, now defunct band Fatter Than Albert; it's for the other guys in A Billion Ernies who sacrificed so much with me the past couple years with zero monetary compensation; it's for my mom who has given us money when we were starving or in need of new tires; it's for all the awesome people who have downloaded our music, gone to a show, bought a t-shirt, or let us crash on their floor. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I'm gonna chase it.
P.S.- Buy the Block Party 2011 DVD at www.communityrecords.org. It's ten bucks, and it's amazing, even if you don't know the bands. Download some FREE music while you're there. You will not regret it.
No comments:
Post a Comment