Raising the Bar

I was inspired by a recent article titled "What the F**k Happened to Black Popular Music?" by jazz pianist Kenny Drew, Jr., to discuss low standards in local music. So, "What the F**k Happened to Local Music?"

I began appearing on the local North Carolina music scene professionally circa 1994 while seeking two undergraduate degrees. What a difference ten years makes. I don't know what's worse: the bands or the folks who hire them.

Before I dive in too deep, let me preface this by saying I believe there is an incredible amount of talent and fellowship on the scene. I experience it every day. I also believe there are many layers to each music scene. You have singer/songwriters, original bands, cover bands, jam bands, tribute bands, jazz cats, etc. However, each layer experiences similar problems, and the bar has been set so low that I dare compare my issues with local music to the country's healthcare problem! I believe there is a place for all music and all who make music in this world. There is no right or wrong. Music is subjective. I only part company with those who interpose the profession of music.

I'm not going to discuss in too much detail the lack of musicianship and poor songwriting I see on a daily basis. Kenny covers most of those bases in his article, and I second that emotion.

The "it's who you know" problem has been around since cows ruled the Earth and, unfortunately, will never go away. That problem exists in every walk of life. I admit I'm not more successful because I don't kiss ass very well. I am definitely my own worst enemy, and I take risks and roads less traveled. I'm not the best at what I do, but I do my best. Sadly, there are groups out there right now cashing in nonreciprocal favors, skipping from point A to point C while hard-working folks like us wrestle with point B. Eat your vegetables. Pay your dues. Shortcuts will come back to haunt you. I still support throwing bones to up-and-coming bands. I'm "simply" jaded. Unfortunately, I've been on the short end of the not returning the favor-stick one too many times. "Your pain, their gain."

After a series of wonderful Walt Disney World performances and the successful release of my second solo album, a pitiful conversation (a conversation of pity) erupted between the then newest member of my band and me over the measure of our progress. He tried to convince me that, in spite of our individual past projects, we were on the same visceral level. I beg to differ. It's apples and oranges. A singer/songwriter pays a much higher price than, say, a bass player. A bass player has the luxury of leaving one project for another on a whim and may continue to do so until he or she reaches a much higher rung on the ladder of success. We may have been in the same boat, but I'm very proud to say I've earned most of my opportunities the old-fashioned way and literally from scratch. He answered an ad and joined my regularly scheduled singer/songwriter program, already years in progress. Singer/songwriters deserve a different grade of respect.

The other problem at hand is simple. It's become too easy. "Weekend warriors." There are bands in Charlotte who perform 12 times/year max, whom you've never heard of, will never see, will never hear, sporting completely unrelated careers, winning "Best of" recognition in local music publications because they invoke enough votes from friends and family. There is no judge, jury, or review process involved. Those who turn to these publications as a source or guide to entertainment in Charlotte are the true victims. Any joker with a computer, enough cash for a lousy PA, and a truckload of obnoxious friends can score a gig. Musicianship, vocal quality, sound quality, recording quality, songwriting, stage presence, experience, and any combination thereof are hardly considerations. Listen to the radio. Listen to current Nelly Furtado. It isn't any different at the top of the food chain.

It's doable but nearly impossible to make a living as a musician because there are so many folks out there working day jobs in completely unrelated fields, performing once a month, packing houses with repressed co-workers. As previously stated, I don't disagree that there is a place for those who use music in this context as a release. However, the scene is flooded in every sense of the word, and it's handicapping and undermining working musicians. "Hi, I manage a restaurant 60 hours/week, but I'm really a musician." You might as well say, "I'm not a musician, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night!"

There are fake books and real books. There are fake musicians and real musicians. The terms "full-time musician," "professional musician," or "working musician" are certainly used carelessly and liberally. I dare say 10% of all musicians in Charlotte are full-time, working musicians. Who's responsible? I lean toward those who book or encourage and even reward these aforementioned characters. Demand is low for trailblazers.

There is a flip side. What is the answer to 99 out of 100 questions? Money. Ten years ago, I could earn 1K/performance for my band at a particular local venue. Today, you're looking at averaging $300/night at the same place. Why? 9-11 (self-explanatory), to a degree, and area venues are booking horrible bands willing to play for scraps over good bands charging what they are worth. Decent, working artists are forced to play for less and more often or seek second careers.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, there are incredible local musicians, mostly jazz cats, rotting their careers away because they won't take risks or step foot on any stage for less than $200. These artists are denying themselves and others in the community an awesome responsibility to raise the bar and make a difference by participating in something more than the same jazz standards week in and week out.

There was a time when PA stood for "Professional Audio." "Do it yourself" is the theme today. When I started out many moons ago, we had a sound man, a lighting man, a merchandiser, a manager, a booking agent, a recording engineer, etc. We prepared for a show. We prepared for a campaign. We dressed up! "Do it yourself." I wish I had a dime for every geek with a computer and recording software who has dropped me an email in an effort to convince me he can engineer a "studio quality" album. "Do it yourself." Notice that nine out of 10 Charlotte bands use the same font and typesetting. "Do it yourself." I could be here all day. Believe it or not, there is little place around here anymore for this sort of professionalism because venues don't want to deal with the hassle of early setups, equipment, merchandise, flyers, lights, sound checks, etc. You're forced to minimize in order to compete for a venue's favor.

I make no apologies. I set high, professional standards for myself, my students, and those I choose to work and surround myself with; often to the point of insane resentment. Music and theatre are crafts I've nurtured since the age of nine. I'm 32. My skills pay the bills and feed my family. I have little patience for those who take the talents God has blessed them with lightly and make it difficult for someone like me to develop a career. Dustin Hoffman once said, "How dare you tell me that take was good enough."

I seriously doubt anything I've discussed here surprises anyone familiar with the industry. An old, retired Motown cat once advised me from his boat in Florida not to pursue a career in music. He exclaimed, "It's a difficult life!" It is. The arts are often the most disappointing and most rewarding jobs on Earth.

Jeff Hartman, Everything Artist