(I read back through this and realized that if you didn’t know me personally the first bit could probably be a little confusing so if you are reading this and don’t know me for contextual purposes I am the front man of a regionally known and locally popular band.)
Today I am finding solace in the fact that change happens over time—and that if we are hoping to make adjustments or do something important, it can even take years to accomplish. I have a tendency to be very impatient, with myself most of all. I have this sort of invasive thought that if I’m going to do something or make a shift to something new, it needs to happen immediately. And then, if I don’t start making major changes as soon as I have the idea, I start to tweak out a little bit and get a little funny in the head.
I’m realizing, though, that I am on the quest for peace and purpose, and both of those things take time and dedicated effort. To find either takes time. And I think sometimes I lose sight of whether I even have a purpose beyond just existing anymore—but I also need to remember that I have pure and infinite potential, and that I can accomplish anything that I want to.
I guess the difficult part for me right now isn’t the waiting to know what “it” is, but the constant seeking—the hope that it has a divine nature, and the desire to discover something I can pour an indefinite amount of time into. Not everything has to be that way, though. I can also sink any amount of time into something like writing.
Music used to be that way but it has lost a bit of its magic on me these last few years. Not in the way that I don’t love it anymore, but in the sense that for me a lot of the magic is in what other people make. I still care a lot about the music I make with my band, but even then, I feel like I fulfill almost less of a musical purpose in the band. It’s more of a gut feeling I think I’m bringing to the table. The magic ends up being watching the other guys in the band make the actual music. They will help me write the words or help me know how to sound on the song and i used to be kind of sensitive about that too but these days I don’t mind so much because i know that i am pretty irreplaceable for other reasons and that is more fulfilling as an idea than making music is to me if that makes sense.
Frankly, I’m not bringing a lot to the table in a music sense at all. I don’t really play any instrument with any kind of efficiency, but I do have ideas that we use—or I’ll try to direct how the music sounds based on something I’m feeling, or something that I’m hoping to feel. Even when I’m singing on a song, I feel like I’m mostly bringing a flavor or a taste to the music rather than adding to it in a traditional way.
Maybe I’m a special sauce that they’re adding to a sandwich they made—but without the sauce, it could be mistaken for similar sandwiches. And sometimes, the sauce I bring does that anyway.
I think a lot of sandwiches are really different on a technical level, but without some kind of distinguishing aspect in the assembled pieces, a lot of things tend to seem the same. That’s why a lot of successful restaurants have a special sauce—and when you go there, you get excited for the sauce as much as the food.
Canes is just regular chicken strips. It’s good, and I think it’s pretty high quality—but I don’t think anyone would care if they didn’t have a special sauce.
I think that’s everyone’s job in a band: to do their best to bring a special sauce to the music that keeps people coming back for more. But sometimes, I think especially when you play the bass or something, you have to just be the bread. And that can be hard, because being the bread can be a bit of a thankless job. But also, the bread makes the sandwich what it is. And in some cases, it can truly be the star of the show.
I guess I just feel like, as a frontman of a band, basically my only job is to bring the sauce—because I’m not really doing anything else. So it’s on me a lot more than the bread to keep people coming back.
I used to feel sort of self-conscious about not being a musician. I usually tell people that I can play the bass a little bit—which is true—and I have played the bass on a few songs in the past (primarily one). But I’m still not much of a musician at all. I think I used to feel ashamed of that in some sense. But now, I guess I’ve just come to terms with the fact that I’m not really a musician—I’m just a guy who sings in a band.
Which is almost more theatrics in some cases—not trying to disparage it—but it’s kind of a relief to say.
I really used to feel like I had to prove that I’m some kind of musical genius or something. I used to make beats a lot, but these days I’m more interested in doing something else. And I think now that I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m not musically talented, it’s kind of a relief. But it has made me re-evaluate who I really am—in a sense of being creative or something. Because I really am not a musician. I think i have really good taste and I think i could be a good DJ but in the way of mostly being a curator.
But I am something.
I think I’ve been trying to make myself a writer, which I think I am in some sense—but I haven’t quite been able to make heads or tails of the situation yet, and that’s bothering me.
Redirecting to my earlier point though: it’s okay. Because whatever my identity actually is, I think it may take time to uncover—like a relic lost to time. Gently removing dust with a brush and uncovering a relief in ancient rock. Slowly, I will see if I keep brushing the dust away.
Because surely…
I can’t be nothing (;