But if you search for glory you might find it don′t you know?
‘Glory’ is written by Matt Benson, Cian Boylan and Niall Breslin
And once you get it, then you better let it go
Secular sainthood and legend status, is it? Yer man – yeah far better than the medal. And it’s no sacrifice just a simple word or because sets win prizes. Lad, doll, perhaps it’s the lure of the road. Or the stroking of one’s ever obliging ego and desire to re-varnish the mantlepiece and build an extension given likely arrival of new trophies. Then there’s searching for the philosopher’s stone rigorously mystically. Or even when juggling that much needed role down the filling station or tending the bar it’s above all a job, putting bread on the table. The love say others. All you need. Doing it for the music. I’m loving angels instead. Erm yep – they do say too. Finding the one.
Jazzer – Would you be able to articulate your motivation? Do you even think in terms of motivation? Most artists – although not always naive and certainly aware of status and dreaming of making a career – don’t think first and foremost in terms of money. But like even top sports stars, who by contrast to most poorly paid jobbing musicians, earn millions say in golf, football, motor racing and boxing it’s not the money they’re after. Because it’s the bragging rights, the status, being a champ, getting the trophy, winning all the majors, all the grand slams.
For some at a lower level, jazz, despite the lack of respectful reward, can be a way of earning a living in the same way as loads of people out there get by on minimum wage. If a network of small clubs who cater for 50-100 people regularly like you then you can be gigging every week and you’ll be back every so often on the same circuit maybe for years and years. But you’ll have to travel lots, hire people to work with you, do all sorts of other admin tasks as well as maintaining your ability to play impressively. You’ll need to do the maths as you could be touring at a loss even if you’re in demand and doing all that hard slog, staying in shockingly bland hotels, hanging around all day waiting for the gig in some one horse town maybe that just so happens to have a decent venue.
So what’s the plan, pal? Are you up for the prize, reward, kudos, way of earning a living, expressing yourself, playing as an add on to teaching? All of the above? None of the above? You’re loving angels instead?
I was thinking of the words of a superb song called ‘Glory’ that I have been listening to a lot lately – and this is the pertinent bit in terms of this blog post.
Vanity and jazz don’t go well together. Of course the combo exists nevertheless. And everyone needs a bit of ego and the facility to love their own stuff enough just to get up on stage, put up with all the bull that the venues, public and critics throw at you. All that cortisol, adrenaline and all. The yellow snow! Doing jazz for glory isn’t a good idea. It’s probably even worse an idea than doing it for the money – again if you get lucky and get a great regular high paying gig then bril or score some decent numbers flukily as happens once in a blue moon with people like Laufey, Norah Jones or the Dudley Moore of our times the equally cuddly Jamie Cullum. But it won’t last forever. And you might find yourself like a lot of household jazz names who have incredible reviews and reputations not working that much and not picking up too many royalty cheques for one reason or another either. They’re watching their own old videos on their laptops half the time and waiting for The Four Candles to open for a spot of spiritual refreshment and quick perusal of the Argos catalogue if still available.
The fundamental problem at the moment is to do with recording – shifting physical product is far harder now than it was a decade ago and streaming returns for most is neglible. Is it worth investing £5,000 or £6,000 or a whole lot more to make a cheeky demo of a bouncing banger for Bandcamp because you will have to invest into it yourself as there’s no cigar chomping camel coat wearing record company type to hand out advances any more. Not that they were doing you too many favours, mind – but that’s another story.
You kind of sinkingly know that your mini epic of a pianoless quartet carefully search engine optimised to be called Me: I’m Great, Take Me Home (the Send Money, Curry and Peshwari Sessions) probably won’t earn back its costs just yet. But its documentary value as a link is assured.
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