Learning to be Slow

Just about ten years ago, I bought a new bicycle. I wanted something sturdy and versatile, and bought myself a cyclocross bike, with dropped handlebars and off-road brakes. I coulnd't afford two good bicycles, so I figured that this would handle aggressive road riding as well as light trail and touring use. It was a fast bike, not the most comfortable thing on two wheels, but I put it to use in some all-day rides anyway. After replacing just about every part on it I finally sold off the frame few years ago, with the idea that I'd build up a new road bike with the parts I'd hung on to. Unfortunately, the car broke down and I ended up spending my frame money on the infernal combustion machine, so I could get to work. The new bike never got built.

About a week ago, I bought another new bike, my first one in a decade (I've had other ones in the interim, but they've been assembled out of second-hand frames and fourth-hand parts, often as not held together by MacGuyver-like improvisations and zip ties. Not one of them has actually been big enough to be a comfortable fit for my six-foot-plus self). Just like a decade ago, I can't afford two good bikes (a breif period of relative financial security, if not exactly prosperity, fell victim to the Great Recession, just like it has for so many others), so I had to get something that would satisfy my need for commuting, road riding, some weekend touring and light trail use. This time, however, I got a bike with swept back “North Road” style handlebars, an 8-Speed internally geared hub and fenders. It's closer in spirit to a mid-20^th Century British three-speed than a Belgian mixed-course racing machine. It's more “tweed jacket” than “lycra shorts.” I even put a bell on the handlebars.

So what changed? Why not get another cyclocross bike, or a mountain bike with slick tires, or anything more aggressively styled? The obvious answer is that I'm not in as good shape as I was at 25, but that's not it. If I ride enough (and with gas prices and frequent breakdowns, leaving the car in the driveway is not a hard choice most days), I'll be able to move at a good clip before too long. Already, after a week of riding, some of the hills are feeling noticably smaller and some of my routes feel a bit quicker. Am I suffering an attack of retro-grouch nostalgia, and trying to recreate the club riding experience of half a century ago? Maybe a little, but it's not a replica of an old bike, it's a modern, aluminum machine which while it may be inspired by those old roadsters, is a lot lighter and has some nice upgrades (like a bigger range of gears). Maybe it's because it looks cool and it impresses women? Well, yeah, but I can do that on any type of bike.

I think a huge part of the reason is that after all these years of riding I really want a bike that I can just hop on and GO. No special shoes (I have not intention of putting clipless pedals on this thing, or even toe straps and clips. Just plain old flats for me, thanks), no funny shorts (although I may find myself wearing liners or shorts with padding for longer trips) and no need to tuck my pant leg into my sock (it's got a chain guard). The riding position is upright enough that I can wear my regular raincoat when it rains, and sling my leather briefcase over my shoulder without it getting too uncomfortable. I wear sneakers, dress shoes or even sandals, not lugging a change of shoes everywhere I ride. I don't have to spend 20 minutes getting prepped to ride, I just have to figure out where I left my cell phone, squeeze the tires to make sure they're pumped up, and roll.

The new bike is slower than my drop-bar bikes have been (not by much, judging by the time it takes to get places and the readouts on those radar signs, but definitely a couple MPH), but that's OK, because I'm also learning the value of taking it easy sometimes. If I'm riding to work, it's nice to be able to wear my work clothes instead of having to pack a change, and if I want to show up without looking like I've been swimming to work, that means staying at an exertion level that doesn't make me sweat too much. It's the difference between “brisk walk” and “jogging” paces. Because I'm in a relaxed stance, I don't feel that subconscious pressure to race everywhere, and I'm certainly not riding a bike that I'll ever find myself saying “I may race this one day,” so I don't have the need to live up to that kind of thinking either.

I think, when it comes down to it, this says a lot about who I am these days, I'm no longer out to prove anything to myself (except perhaps that I can find a halfway decent job again, but that's another blogging topic altogether) but hope to be able to sit back and enjoy the ride a bit more.

Paying the Piper

Over at the Mandolin Cafe there was an ongoing discussion about playing for tips, which led into a discussion about playing music for free, for exposure, for food and all the various permutations of how musicians get convinced to work for nothing.
One of the things that came up, and that I've encountered myself on occasion, is that while the venue owner encourages musicians to collect tips for playing in his establishment, it's very rare that any indication is given to the audience that their entertainment is not being paid, and therefore the audience feels no obligation to tip. Heck, the audience almost never feels OBLIGATED to tip, tips aren't an obligation, they're a courtesy/show of appreciation. The result is that "tips" gigs are not only very hit-or-miss as money makers, but are more often miss than hit.

These are tough times for everyone, myself included, and as the temp and freelance jobs that have been sustaining me since I was laid off nearly two years ago have gotten harder and harder to come by, I've been coming to rely more on music as a marketable skill to bring in much needed income. It used to be "music is cool, but make sure you've got a day job" but these days it's become "there aren't any day jobs, you might as well play music." As it is, I'm glad to have something I can turn to, even if it doesn't produce a ton of money.

But, if I'm going to be able to make any sort of living, and if those who are in a similar situation as me are going to make any sort of living, we're going to need to agree on something.


We have to stop playing for free.

I'm not talking about back porch picking sessions, or jams at your friend's party, or stuff like that. That's fine. That's not a gig, you can come and go as you please, you don't need to set up a sound system and take requests from drunk lawyers who want to hear "Hotel California" 48 times in a row (and if you do, you need to find a better party).

I'm talking going into venues like restaurants, conventions, bars and festivals where somebody is making money, and where live music is part of the reason that that person is making money.

I understand that bars and restaurants are struggling like the rest of us, and I won't even mention coffee shops (because for the most part, unless the word "bucks" is part of the name, they're all out of business around here), but they still have to pay their staff to provide service and atmosphere, and if musicians are part of the staff for the night, they should be getting paid too. If someone is making money off of you, you should be getting a cut. Period.

Let's address some of the common arguments used to rationalize working for nothing:

"You'll get exposure."

That's what Youtube is for. Heck, you can get an international audience without leaving your house if you're any good and use the right keywords (you are putting in keywords, right?). There are a lot of ways to get your name and sound out there if you're creative and willing to work at it that don't involve giving away everything you have to offer for free.
"Exposure" is something people die from, not something you want to give away your weekend to get.
If you are really worried about getting your name out or building a following, one of the best ways can be to hook up with an already-established local band as an opening act. If it's not possible to get a full (paid!) opening slot, try to work out a deal where you can play a short, two or three song set during one of their breaks, using their sound equipment. This obviously works best if the music you're playing appeals to the same crowd as the other band, but when it works, it works well, and has a long tradition in the music biz.

"Music is fun, you'd play it anyway."

This is a deadly one, because it appeals to the weekend warriors who have day jobs and don't rely on their music paycheck to eat. And it's true, playing music is deeply satisfying in a way few other things in this world can be, and you'll have a lot better time playing music than, say, shoveling coal.

Music is fun, as long as you can play what you want, when you want, where you want, with the equipment you feel like setting up, and leave when you feel like you're done.
A friend of mine had a line, which I've used myself since, to the effect that, "I love music and have fun playing it, you don't have to pay me to play music," (wait for it), "what you're paying me for is to turn down all the other stuff I could be doing on a Friday night, lug all my gear here, get here an hour before you want me to start to set up my sound equipment, stay until our agreed end time, put up with the guy who yells "Free Bird" every time I pause for breath, and the girl who wants me to be her personal karaoke machine, spend more time tearing down all this gear at the end of the night, and pack up and drive home after the audience has left and gone to bed."


Music is fun in the same way that fishing is fun. If you're doing it to pass a Saturday afternoon with no demands on your time, it's great. If you have to go out on a tuna boat to support your family, it may still be satisfying on some level, but it's damn hard work.


"You should share your talent with the world."

"Talent" is a funny thing. I've been told I have a talent for music by some people (and that I have none by a couple others) but whether or not it's true, there was never a point in my life where I picked up an instrument and was instantly ready to play in front of a crowd. Nothing ever came naturally to me, I had to practice, and practice a lot, to get as mediocre as I am. If I have any particular talent, it's loving music enough to stick with it for the last two decades through the blisters, sore fingers, sour notes, dropped beats and endless learning that are required to become even a marginally competent performer.

A lot of people say things like "wow, I could never do that." Actually, most of them could, they'd just need to put in the hard work and study. The same way I could become a lawyers if I put in the time and money to go to law school. I didn't, so I pay a lawyer when I need one. And law school is more expensive then teaching yourself to play music, so I don't bill $300 for a consultation (although maybe I should charge the "Free Bird" guy $50 bucks every time he yells it), but it's still an acquired skill set, that took time and effort and, I think, warrants at least a small bit of cash.

Interestingly, the one "natural" talent I seem to have for performance is the lack of stage fright. Public speaking is one of the most common human fears, but it doesn't bother me that much (which is funny, because I'm actually a rather shy person offstage, although I try to hide that). I'm not sure what that means on the "pay me" scale, but it's probably noteworthy.


"We're your friends/ it's a good cause."

Ok, this is one of the hardest for me to draw the line on, and I honestly think there are times when helping a friend or benefiting a charity warrant donating your time and labor, but there are times when they don't as well.

First off, friends. If your friend is having a party, and they say "hey, why don't you bring an instrument and give us some tunes," well, they're hosting, and maybe it's better to contribute some live music than it is to be the 12th person to bring a bag of potato chips. However, if they ask you to set up sound gear, play certain time, and in any way shape or form turn it into a "gig," then if they're really your friends they'll offer to compensate you a bit. You can give them a reduced rate, but get paid, the same way your neighbor the contractor might paint your house for a discount, but you wouldn't ask him to work for free. Ditto for a friend or family member's wedding. Everything wedding-related is pricey, you might be getting asked to donate what would normally be a $500-1,000 performance. If you choose to offer your performance as a gift to the couple, do it as a conscious decision, knowing the value of what you're giving them, and do it of your own volition, not because they try to guilt you into it.

Charities are another judgment call. Some of the best-organized, and most successful charity gigs I've played payed me to be there. It might not have been as much as I would have made at a "for-profit" gig, but sometimes it was a reasonable sum. Face it, if there's a charity dinner, for example, chances are the bartenders, waiters and caterer are getting paid to be there, you should be too. This isn't being greedy, your presence is an investment on the part of the charity organizers (some of whom may be getting paid to do this themselves) that they expect to bring in money for the cause.

If you should choose to donate your services, and you are not Bono, just make sure of two things. First, that it's a cause you really believe in enough to put your sweat and skill into, and second, that you don't do it often. It's certainly noble to work for free for a good cause, but it's still noble to work for a modest paycheck doing good work, and if it becomes expected that all of us will do it for free all the time, soon none of us will be able to afford to do benefit shows at all.


As I said before, times are tough right now, and for many formerly-part-time musicians, the only opportunities out there are the ones we can create for ourselves. It's good work, it's satisfying work, it's fun work, it's beautiful work, but at the end of the day it's still work. So, with a few already-selected exceptions, this year I'm no longer working for free. I hope to see you all out there, and I hope you enjoy what you're hearing, because I'm working harder than ever at it.

Happy New Year!