Steve Bell recently wrote a compelling blog post on what a vocational singer-songwriter has to do to earn a living in today's music climate. Steve offers a lot of experience and insight to reflect upon, but I'll just focus my reflections on one aspect of his thoughts for this post.
My musical journey began at around age 14, on my older brother's mandolin. Another brother bought a guitar soon after, and I began learning that too. During an unanticipated gap year between high school and college, I played along with dozens of recordings by my favourite singer songwriters. (It's true - you can play till your fingers bleed.) I'd routinely spend 6-8 hours a day at the fretboards and in front of the stereo.
This was a rich time of learning. To this day, it feels like part of my brain resides in the fingers that memorized chords and licks that year. Later on, I played for nearly 20 years with a five piece acoustic band, stretching my original interests in bluegrass rhythm and flat-picking guitar to a tantalizing blend of celtic, blues, country, and folk. The pre-internet Backroads Band we eventually recorded two albums. (I remember my band shared the bill with Steve a few of times, but the details of the gigs are fuzzy.)
At that point in my life I had the time to devote to my craft, the courage to overcome stage fright and a lack of self-confidence, and the conviction of knowing I was doing something I loved.
What I didn't have was a belief that I could do what it would take to earn a living at it.That's what I admire about singer-songwriters who earn a living from their vocation. They have invested in themselves in ways that my choices did not allow. And they've made a lot of sacrifices for it.
My choice was a career path and the security of a steady income. There's many a day when I mourn that choice, just as vocational musicians, I'm sure, sometimes long for that dependable pay cheque and a predictable routine, especially when that mortgage or car payment is due.
As a singer-songwriter with a full time (and sometimes more than full time) alternate career, there just are not enough hours in the day to do what is needed to develop those song song writing chops to the degree I long for. Steve points out the investments he makes in his craft so that he can continue to do live performances and produce records:
As a bi-vocational singer-songwriter, I have precious little space where time, creative energy, and inspiration collide. The infrequency of these blog posts is a testament to that. But I am pleased with my work when I feel it is finished - even if I can't invest in the craft in a way that churns out songs at a quicker rate.
My musical journey began at around age 14, on my older brother's mandolin. Another brother bought a guitar soon after, and I began learning that too. During an unanticipated gap year between high school and college, I played along with dozens of recordings by my favourite singer songwriters. (It's true - you can play till your fingers bleed.) I'd routinely spend 6-8 hours a day at the fretboards and in front of the stereo.
This was a rich time of learning. To this day, it feels like part of my brain resides in the fingers that memorized chords and licks that year. Later on, I played for nearly 20 years with a five piece acoustic band, stretching my original interests in bluegrass rhythm and flat-picking guitar to a tantalizing blend of celtic, blues, country, and folk. The pre-internet Backroads Band we eventually recorded two albums. (I remember my band shared the bill with Steve a few of times, but the details of the gigs are fuzzy.)
At that point in my life I had the time to devote to my craft, the courage to overcome stage fright and a lack of self-confidence, and the conviction of knowing I was doing something I loved.
What I didn't have was a belief that I could do what it would take to earn a living at it.That's what I admire about singer-songwriters who earn a living from their vocation. They have invested in themselves in ways that my choices did not allow. And they've made a lot of sacrifices for it.
My choice was a career path and the security of a steady income. There's many a day when I mourn that choice, just as vocational musicians, I'm sure, sometimes long for that dependable pay cheque and a predictable routine, especially when that mortgage or car payment is due.
As a singer-songwriter with a full time (and sometimes more than full time) alternate career, there just are not enough hours in the day to do what is needed to develop those song song writing chops to the degree I long for. Steve points out the investments he makes in his craft so that he can continue to do live performances and produce records:
- practice regularly and spend time experimenting with techniques and musical ideas
- keep your mind engaged and wrestling with new ideas (Steve says he typically reads 2-3 hours a day)
- attend to poetry in order to be a good lyricist
- stay on top of world events
- sit and process what you've taken in
- take charge of publicity and marketing - more necessary than ever in today's marketplace
- fundraising
As a bi-vocational singer-songwriter, I have precious little space where time, creative energy, and inspiration collide. The infrequency of these blog posts is a testament to that. But I am pleased with my work when I feel it is finished - even if I can't invest in the craft in a way that churns out songs at a quicker rate.
Steve's song writing investment tips above resonate with what I need to produce lyrics and melodies. For now though, I and other bi-vocational song writers may need to accept a slower pace of production than we long for.
In the meantime, hats off to the vocational songwriters who have made the sacrifices to work at their art. They've given the time and had the courage and conviction to make it work, and have made the world a better place for it.
