I see that you do MANY things...
February 28 2010
Two words every musician must consider: Ambition. Eclectic.
The Pianobabbler has ambition.
Ambition to what?
To make it.
To make what? What it?
It. IT! Fame, appreciation, love, respect, gigs, choice, control, money. In that order. Or not. It.
"Should the Pianobabbler harbour shame over his ambition, Doctor? Has he committed the sin of pride?"
"Oh no, Pianobabbler. Not at all. Not. At. All. Nothing could be more normal. And necessary. Listen, Pianobabbler, any artist who goes professional must possess that ambition. The drive. The hunger. The inexorable will to succeed. Otherwise..."
"Otherwise... Yes Doctor?"
"Otherwise the art deflates. It remains unfueled. It withers into a dense lump of unfired coal. It starves, and so the artist starves, because the artist cannot earn a living wage. Ambition, along with need, drives the musician to work in the vehicle of his or her art, fueled by the material exchange of that art for the public's money."
"I see Doctor. Thank you. I will honour my feelings of ambition, without indulging in guilt for doing so. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Pianobabbler."
At the receiving end of ambition, then, stands the public. The wall to which our soul's tendrils attach, so that the artist's art may grow and spread. The mass of people whose seduction is ambition's goal.
Which brings me to eclectic.
Most musicians I know consider themselves, and like to consider themselves. original. Non-derivative creators who embody a multitude of ideas, and a host of influences. Eclectic.
R&B, world, jazz, soul, blues. Your musical organism may carry all these sounds in its DNA. Classical, reggae, chanson, minimalism. These or any number of other formats might marinate your music. Eclectic.
In eclectic, though, lurks a threat to ambition: the monovision of the masses. The Pianobabbler observes that, the greater an artist's reach, the flatter his or her image becomes. The larger you audience number, the fewer the influences it can abide.
Barbra Streisand once made a classical recording. Didn't go far. John, Paul, George and Ringo made plenty of solo recordings. Beatles forever. Glenn Gould wrote and produced for radio and television, more than he played piano. James Gandolfini has performed Shakespeare. He will never not be Tony Soprano. Oops. I've strayed from music.
The point: you may love samba, dub, kwaito, dangdut, Mozart, Italian folk, dance-punk, oratorio, taiko, tango, techno, Fado, I don't know. You may blend them all, brilliantly, into your music. But for all the Peter Gabriels and Paul Simons, you may find the audience limited. Inversely smaller as the influences multiply. You may recite Shakespeare gorgeously, but they will never see past your Tony Soprano. Eclectic.
Which defeats ambition.
What is a musician to do?
The Pianobabbler has babbled.
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