My real name

Making a “commitment” such as I have to playing music for a “living”, that is to say playing music for life, is a choice and an action that has an effect on every aspect of life itself. This includes work, family, relationships, mental and emotional health, physical health, and anything else you can imagine. The very nature of committing one’s self to this endeavor is hard for most people to understand, and the musicians themselves are no different. This of course excludes those whom can only label themselves “musicians” and in reality don’t stand for anything. But if one is truly committed to this art, truly lives it every day, it is a constant force of self discovery in every sense. In fact it may be one of the last bastions of true individual freedom as described through the lens of artistic vision.  

Something that what I will (subjectively) deem a “true” musician soon realizes is that it is almost pointless to attempt to honestly relate the experiences, knowledge, ideas, and lessons that come with a commitment this endeavor. The “true musician” is soon lead to feel that if someone doesn’t understand, then there is no point in trying to make them understand. This is illustrated in the classic conversations that all the musicians in my band have to have constantly. “How is the music thing going?” “What is touring like?” “How is your band doing?” To someone who doesn’t have a clue (as crass as this may sound) there is little point in trying to make them understand, it is much more painless to simply say “really good” (which is never truly the case). However, the true musician also soon finds himself in a paradoxical relationship with other like musicians, in which case there is often no point of discussing details because both people understand, and most conversations may be summed up with a simple, mutual “I know”. 

Even as I find myself in this situation both with my musical peers and superiors, I still believe there is much that can be expressed through artful communication to those who may not understand nor never truly understand. Many of the feelings, experiences, and “truths” that are discovered by choosing such a path of paradoxical self abandonment and self indulgence can be understood to a degree by others, and in fact I believe it is a responsibility I have placed on myself as a musician to attempt to share these things with people who may not otherwise get a glimpse into the depths of what I, in my Socratic sort of ignorance/relative wisdom believe to be one of the last remaining ways to experience what I fondly describe as true adventure. 

Therefor, I will by means of this blog attempt to illustrate with words and quite possibly pictures what I think and feel when I describe myself as a musician. Much like war, the life of a musician is far too complex, far too ugly and beautiful to be described as simply good or bad, right or wrong. Because of this fact (which I believe you will soon come to agree, is very much a fact) I feel it is endlessly important for me to strive for honesty in all things regarding my experience of music. It is not always pretty, it is not always noble, and in face it is often depressing. However it is also visceral, exciting and damned interesting.

As an example of this honesty which I hold dear, it must be declared at the onset of these writings and hopefully at the onset of your further reading, that “music” is 99% bullshit. It is mostly an act. We are mostly actors, fueled by egos, fears, and personal agendas. Unfortunately it is this reality that often causes so much negativity within the lives of the actors themselves. In that I will attempt to be as honest as possible in my writings, it is my task to ultimately pursue that 1% that my soul deems to be true and honest artistic expression and experience. That is both the thesis of these works, and the goal of my life as a musician. I urge you to read on, and hope that you will find something of absolute value here. If nothing else, at least be entertained. 

-Tim

Drinking out of mason jars while contributing your 2 cents worth of pseudo-intellectual bullshit about how “obviously one person not eating meat doesn’t make a difference but if we all do it then derpderpderpderp” from the front row of your community college American Radicalism course does not make you exceptional in any respect. 

In fact, riding your bike instead of a car to anywhere your similarly dirty-on-purpose-but-not-too-dirty peers may be, being vegan and pretending its a political statement, having a huge shelf full of books you have read 30 pages of, none of it fucking matters. The more you cover up your unimportance with adherence to the newest stupid fucking subculture movement, the more you degrade yourself as a human being. I see right through it. You don’t stand for shit and you are scared. 2 years ago you were most likely either a bible thumper or a scene girl and neither one meant anything, what self worth do you think drinking out of a glass jar is going to give you in another 2 years?

Just because you don’t waste plastic bottles doesn’t mean you aren’t a waste of life.