Hey Stelz

[Nephew Twiddleton]

So Stelz,

you wanted to know how me being an amateur.... I don't know.... involves me getting Villager back.

Well let me tell you.

Villager and I happened because we were already friends and I was in a decaying relationship. And, well, her fool ass fell for me. And in time, I fell for her too. Villager, you should know, has been my bassist for longer than she's been my girlfriend. We didn't even officially get together until the previous band we were in broke up (when her brother, our vocalist at the time, decided to end the project on Myspace without telling us. It's all good. We would have parted ways that week anyway). And then Anarchangel was immediately born. Well, Villager and I started officially dating about 3 or 4 months after the formation of Anarchangel (which didn't have a name that whole time).

And, to be frank, she chased after me. She grew on me. She was mad about me.

This lead to a situation where I eventually had mutual affections for her, but I was a lazy bastard who was just happy to have someone to love.

Well, fast forward almost 3 years, and I'm no better off and no worse off than I was back then. Still working part time. Still a hopeless procrastinator. Still a sophomore in college.

we'd been talking about trajectory for a while, and where I was going, with a focus on being a real grown up but at the same time reaching for rock star status. Hell, it benefits her too. If I become a rock star, so does she, and she never has to worry about that groupie thing, since she's there with me and they're all going to Peter anyway (up until recently, where he actually found someone he wants to be with but we always figured he would be the member to get some sort of VD)

Well, where have I gone? Nowhere. I'm still working at the same place, the same floor, that I have been since the beginning of this millennium, and I even took a paycut and an hours cut in order to maintain a job and insurance (THANKS MITT ROMNEY OBAMA) that I was mandated to have. I'm not a rock star. I was more of a rock star in my previous band. Anarchangel never played further than Worcester. The other band never played further than.... oh... the whole Northeast.) I am worse off now than when I started dating Villager, and back then, such things didn't matter.

But, we're getting older now. She and I already named our eventual daughter. Yet, we are not married, nor anywhere close to that, due to my credit (I really don't want to fuck her over).

Well, anyway, Villager and I broke up, over me getting my driver's license renewed. Retarded, eh? I don't even have a car. But, it was symptomatic.

And in the course of a day, I attempted to get my license renewed (I got points for attempt), got my hours increased by ten, and got her flowers- something I haven't done in a long time. Too long. Next week, I'm going to succeed in getting my license again, and I'm going to go back to my college and ask what I can do to make History my minor and get something fucking practical going on, and, oh yeah, music music music music. With a focus on solo career. Unlike previous relationships, she wants me to keep at that sonic thing and succeed in it at almost all costs.

Providing that she and I get back together, this break up was a kick in the ass that I needed. If we don't get back together, well, I guess I'll jack off a lot, because she's it. That's why my ass is in gear. I want her back. And it's possible. So fuck it. If I want to marry her, and have children with her, yeah, she's right. Otherwise I can go through a bunch of empty fucking for the next 5 years until I definitely stop looking so damn good :sexy pose: But I don't want that. I want Villager.

Twid,
Doin' shit

[Nephew Twiddleton]

Oh, original point.

I have a proclivity to science. Maybe I should be a scientist, like I used to want to be before I became a musician.

Also, everyone else, feel free to suggest good degrees and lucrative careers that might be conducive to me eventually saying, "Oi! Fuck you ya bahstahd! Oi'm a rock stahhhh!!! Wif a recode deal!"

[The Good Reverend Roger]

There's no need to give the music up.  But if it's going to be anything other than a hobby, you have to remember that it's not "working artist", it's "WORKING artist". 

And I doubt she or anyone else expects you to become a millionaire.  I'm reasonably sure it's not related to income, so much as NOT LETTING YOU TURN INTO A DRONE.  If you're out there busting ass, you have a LIFE, which is what's attractive to the sort of person you'd like to be with (ie, Villager).

Lose the hootch, work out instead.
Grab as many hours as you can get.
Write some shit for Anarchangel.  Every time you get 30 seconds.
Keep up on mundane paperwork.
Remember, when she's in the room, that she's in the room.
Remember, when she isn't in the room, that she's in the room.

And I'll have time to compile that song list tonight.

[LMNO]

Becoming a rawk gawd doesn't just happen.  It takes more non-music stuff than music stuff.  It takes networking, marketing, and more networking.  It takes time, often more time than you want to spend.  It takes sacrifice of FUN to the alter of SELLING YOURSELF.  It takes phone skills, socializing, and being nice to people you don't like.

Even the "overnight success" stories you hear have a decades-long back story of incessent struggle to get your name out there.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Becoming a rawk gawd doesn't just happen.  It takes more non-music stuff than music stuff.  It takes networking, marketing, and more networking.  It takes time, often more time than you want to spend.  It takes sacrifice of FUN to the alter of SELLING YOURSELF.  It takes phone skills, socializing, and being nice to people you don't like.

Even the "overnight success" stories you hear have a decades-long back story of incessent struggle to get your name out there.

But I don't think that matters as much, LMNO.  It's just a matter of not treading water. 

I've known happy people that don't make a lot of money.

I've never known anyone without some sort of ambition that was actually happy. 

Life isn't something you get through.  Life is there to be TACKLED.  It is better to eat the HELL out of that cheeseburger than to sit there nibbling at it, waiting for SOMETHING when you don't even know what that something IS.  Find something.  Beat the shit out of it.  Bend those Goddamn guitar strings until the Hank comes out.  As far as anyone knows, you get one (1) ride, and it's over faster than you can imagine.

And when you finally reach the end, you should not be lowered into your grave.  You should ROCKET in, smashing the coffin and sending mourners flying in all fucking directions while screaming, "HOT DAMN, GOD, LET'S DO THAT AGAIN!"

[LMNO]

Oh, hell yes.  There's a difference between being a rawk gawd and living a rawk gawd life.

Having a job and a wife has been incredibly freeing in terms of my music and the amount of FUN I get out of it.  I'll probably never play Madison Sq Garden... I'll probably never play the larger clubs in Boston.

But I'm gonna drop five pints of sweat in any club I do play, and be grinning like a madman when I do it.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Oh, hell yes.  There's a difference between being a rawk gawd and living a rawk gawd life.

That.  Right there.

Having a job and a wife has been incredibly freeing in terms of my music and the amount of FUN I get out of it.  I'll probably never play Madison Sq Garden... I'll probably never play the larger clubs in Boston.

But I'm gonna drop five pints of sweat in any club I do play, and be grinning like a madman when I do it.

Shit yeah.

[Mangrove]

There's no need to give the music up.  But if it's going to be anything other than a hobby, you have to remember that it's not "working artist", it's "WORKING artist".

Becoming a rawk gawd doesn't just happen.  It takes more non-music stuff than music stuff.  It takes networking, marketing, and more networking.  It takes time, often more time than you want to spend.  It takes sacrifice of FUN to the alter of SELLING YOURSELF.  It takes phone skills, socializing, and being nice to people you don't like.

Even the "overnight success" stories you hear have a decades-long back story of incessent struggle to get your name out there.

Correct motorcycles in the house.

I met (the future) Mrs Mang when I was 22. It was 1996 and the music industry was having it's last big hurrah before it turned into the festering corporate 'X IDOL' morass that it is now. There was a lot of money about and ridiculous amounts of bands getting signed, especially in the UK.

I had dropped out of college because (a) I was desperately unhappy and valued my sanity and (b) being an English Lit major wasn't likely to do anything for my life. I went home, wrote a gazillion songs and formed a band with some friends I had been in earlier bands with. My parents were supportive of my music and tolerant of the fact that I spent inordinate amounts of time in my PJs with a guitar in my lap or disappearing for days at a time because I was staying at a friend's apartment while we jammed into the early hours. And when we weren't jamming we were talking and then arguing about music. Too much caffeine, not enough sleep or good nutrition.

Now Mrs Mang (to be) was really cool about this and totally supported young 20 something me writing songs and dumping my savings into demo tapes. She was really helpful and actually did a lot of e-mailing of people and came up with possible contacts from people she knew. Has to be said that it was an awesome time and I have done everything in my power to not include the word 'awesome' as part of my regular vocabulary.

Our band did some shows, did some recording, got into some low level newspapers and magazines and gradually unwound. We were a trio so when the drummer and then singer/bassist got married, being indie pop gods receded in the rear view mirror.

The band hit the wall in 1998 and as supportive as pre-Mrs Mang' was, I recognized that I had to do something and fast.  For the relationship to grow I had to either land a life changing career opportunity ASAP or, make a decision between being with the most important person in my life versus the pretense that I was going to 'make it' in The Biz (tm).

The good friend of mine (that I liked to argue with) got very close to a record deal with A&M records. They did shows in London, got demos made, met producers & played for label execs. They were really, really close but lost out when their manager asked for too much money. The label said 'fuck you' and signed a band called The Pecadillos that recorded one single and vanished in the time it takes a particle to disappear when it gets smashed up at CERN. Now, my friend could really sing and write the hell out of a song. I'm not just saying that because he was my friend but because musically, he really knew what he was doing. He thoroughly kicked my ass in the singing & writing department. He had a vibe to him. He could pick up a guitar (that I taught him to play as a teenager the rat bastard!), sling a few chords together and people would listen even if he was just screwing around with a melody. And yet, he didn't make it either.

After watching my friend really bust his ass for years to get noticed, I had to embrace the fact that while I LOVED music, I did not love all the shit that people have to do to get seen. Just wasn't in my personality. I liked playing, writing songs, jamming etc. I realized that what I really enjoyed was expressing my creativity and being in the company of creative people, not turning into a carny huckster to get some A&R idiot to listen to more than 15 seconds of my demo.

Thus, I chose 'life with Mrs Mang' which put me on a very rapid growing up curve. Being 22 and in a band is cute....at first. But, it's only so long before the 'young starving artiste' is barreling towards 30 with little to show for it, while self-respecting boyfriends/girlfriends are getting nervous and making excuses to leave.

I took a job I didn't particularly care for and cut my hair. I saved money and became a contributor. I also found a new way to be creative and have a more likely source of income, which is why I studied massage & bodywork. Every time I work on a client & help relieve their suffering, I get paid for being an artist as much as for being a scientist. While the financial situation at Chez Mang' is less than ideal, I still have the satisfaction of knowing that my abilities to work with people and say, un-stick their lumbar spines has helped keep the lights on, or put gas in the car or whatever. More importantly, I have Mrs Mang too. (Since last Nov, I've been doing a lot of music at home for my own fun and indulgence.)

So, my good fellow, if you believe very very deeply that you have not only the musical goods, but the sheer cojones and kevlar padded soul to deal with the music industry, then get out there and DO IT. I totally respect anyone who can do that because I knew that I was not willing to. However, it may be time to think about life with Villager because that doesn't mean that you have to surrender your 'artist' card. There's other ways and means.     

Because let's just say that you do get the music industry score you desire - if you don't have that inner sense of fulfillment and security, it could be for naught. Just ask Whitney Houston.

Best wishes,

Swami Mangananda (former lead guitarist of Mangrove's Old Time Narcissism Hour.)