music writing: a manifesto

I don't pretend to know shit about shit, when it comes down to it, but it seems to me like there are a few basic things that one should take for granted that most people don't.

1. If you can't write, don't try to write about music. What the fuck makes you think your writing is going to be any better if you're trying to write about music? Writing about music - writing specifically about any one subject is going to be inarguably harder than writing about whatever. If you can't put a proper sentence together - that includes things like oh, you know, grammar - please don't bother.

2. Please do not go out of your way to weave some magical sentences about what you're listening to and describing the way the music floats on the air and makes you think of the fairies flitting through the trees and the delicate little summer blossoms sway through the breeze and then the entire universe sings in unison.

Or, rather, when you are done weaving those magical sentences, re-read them. Do they say a single fucking thing about the actual music you are listening to? If the answer is no (and the answer is probably no), then make them go away. Don't delete them, necessarily, just save them in the folder where you're writing your book about the fairies flitting through the trees.

3. Hi, it's called word count. If you don't know how to use it, I would be glad to show you and so would that little paper clippy thingie in Microsoft Word.

4. Please do not use a music review as a thinly veiled attempt to talk about yourself. There are timeswhen talking about yourself can be a great and incredibly revealing way to talk about the music, but if you don't know the difference, then probably you're doing the former.

5. Please do not assume that the writer of the song and the narrator of the song are the same person. I don't really have anything to add to this one because I have no idea why you would make this assumption in the first place.

6. If you're not willing to meet a deadline or edit something when asked - or at least to explain what the fuck you're talking about - why do you bother? Why would you do anything if not with a conscious attempt to continually be better at that thing?

This is all not meant as a slight against any one person, but as a general exercise in frustration because I genuinely do not understand any of the above. I don't profess to be good at writing myself, but I am constantly trying to be better. I know even less about editing, but the harder I try to do my best, the more I realize that most people don't give a fuck.

That's what this is really about. At the end of the day, I want to know that the hours upon hours that I spend putting all of this together are worth a damn, and lately it sure doesn't feel like it.

washing. packing. moving.

i'm back to pennsylvania, surrounded by boxes that want to be unpacked.

little do they know that they have another move ahead of them.

five day vacation

it seems that we've found ourselves with a five day vacation. the next week of shows have been canceled due to numerous problems. last night we made the overnight drive from detroit to ithaca and this morning i woke up on the floor of our singers parents house.
the past two nights we've stayed in sketch ball hotels/motels (it seems that i had jinxed myself with the previous post). one smelled like a dead hooker, the other felt like i walked into a hallway of the shining. in both chicago and detroit i was able to see two friends who i had never seen on their home turf before. it was quite nice, as i hadn't seen either of them in over a year.

i'm feeling groggy at the moment. i'm getting phone calls regarding my next years profession, reminding me that this will all be over soon. and i've got that sick feeling of leaving in my gut; of the goodbyes i make so often but am not ready to make this time.

i suppose i'll see everyone from ny soon. that will lead only to more goodbyes.

the end of tour is suddenly coming to a close.
and i don't think that i'm ready for it to be over.

late nights|early mornings

you are a traveler at heart. there will be many journey's. —kansas city fortune cookie

the eggshell walls, the cliched hotel room artwork, and the white sheets of a marriot that used to scream of an odd unfamiliarity that attempts to fill in the comforts of home have now become well known and calming to me. because of a family discount rate, we end up here more often then not, piled into these now familiar rooms when we know no one in whatever land we're currently visiting. it's generic and un-personal, and i would much rather stay at a home of a friend or friend of a friend so that i can get up while everyone else is still sleeping, take my cameras and explore the foreign land. instead these hotels usually lay in some kind of corporate or industrial park miles outside of the actual city. but i can't really complain, now can i?

as much as i enjoy each person that i'm touring with, i'm yearning for alone time. most of the people in this band are extremely book smart, discussing everything and anything they possibly can, which sometimes goes straight over my head. it really is wonderful to have such intelligent news hungry people surround me. not only do i take in information that i may never have without them, but it has given me the chance to be able to fully realize what i only partially knew for a long time: i'm not a conversationalist by any means. i don't add or chime in when i know i might have something to contribute. i either just take it all in silently or am lost in my own obscure thoughts to really pay any attention. for better or for worse, i am what i am.

as tour manager i struggle with my own setbacks and selfish desires in order to keep everyone else in line. i've always been an organized person, and can admit to an odd OCD when it comes to certain kinds of cleanliness, but for the most part the creative side of my brain just wants to take over, become selfish, and indulge in the experience as it's given rather than be in charge and run it. each night i restrain from drinking, keeping myself in check to transport everyone safely to whatever destination we might have. each morning i get up long before the others, organizing myself before attempting to organize them. slowly i wake each person up (in order of difficulty, easiest to hardest of course) and coax them into taking a shower or get ready for the day of driving/playing ahead of us.

last night i was informed of some sad news from the homeland. please help out if you can. spending so much time in a van touring around is more dangerous than people sometimes lead themselves to believe. please help out if you can.

less than two weeks until i'm back to stable living. i can't decide whether i'm excited, or extremely sad.

i guess i'll find out soon enough.





sunrise, somewhere in colorado