Why Aren't You In A Band? The Story of Letting It All Go.

I field two questions quite frequently these days:

1)  Why did you move away from San Diego?

2)  Do you miss being in a band?

I’m not even going to start on the San Diego thing this evening.  Instead, lets go ahead and address the band.  

Jingle Ball - Arco Arena - Darin Brookner and I

I try not to think about my music industry days.  No, no, no!  Not because it was a bad experience!  It’s not that!  For me, there is a fair amount trauma (in the weakest sense of the word) surrounding our demise.  Not in a sense that we all hate each other.  More like what it was that I chose to walk away from.

Does that make any sense?   This is what I mean.

Being in a popular band and playing in front of as many people as we were created the most natural high, or biggest adrenaline rush I have ever felt.  We did it night after night.  Signing autographs, playing with bands we grew up listening to, touring the world, it was all insane.  It was beyond surreal.  Something that 99% of the world will never know. 

Australia -  The fans and I

 

Walking away from all of it was traumatic.  Getting a job and re-establishing myself as an average Joe was weird.  Watching it all fade away was hard.

I coped by blocking it all out.  I was never really good at it.  When I wasn’t able to block it out, I found myself picking up the guitar while trying to convince myself that I could do it all over again.  I know I could have, but where would I be today?  I think about that sometimes.

As I grew older, and started a family, I had to force myself to bury the past.  Having kids and being married sure helped me layer the concrete and dirt over that grave.  Funny how fast your priorities change when your love shifts from one entity to the other.  

My Family - 2015

I think I prevailed because I convinced myself that I would NOT be that 40 year old guy working at Guitar Center for the rest of my life.  I have a lot of friends who are still scraping by in the pop-punk genre.  They’re doing everything they can to remain relevant.  Even as the shows and venues get smaller and smaller, they keep plugging away.  I don’t know how I feel about it.  I suppose I feel bad for some, but I understand the rest. 

There are a lot of guys who have no idea what else they would do.  Google your favorite musician along with the phrase “I don’t know how to do anything else.” 

Walking away from music was hard, but not as hard as it would be to still be involved in it all.

I’ll tell you why.  I have a wife and three children.  In order for me to make it, this is what I would have to do.

I would have to write amazing songs that are different than everything you’ve ever heard.  Then, I would have to find a band with guys who all share common musical interest.  And we would have to play very well together.  There would have to be that “magic.”  Then we’d have to use our own money to demo all the songs.  We’d have to self-fund tours and play terrible shows until someone notices us.  We’d have to spend at least five days a week in the rehearsal studio for hours at a time ironing out and perfecting all the songs.  To make a decent living, we’d have to tour for 75% of the year. 

At the end of the day, my entire life would be spent with my band.  Not my family.  And my wife would murder me.

My rationalization, these days, is easy.  I already did the band thing, and I was successful.  It was a massive high point in my life.  I don’t have to do it again.  The desire is gone.  The memories remain. 

These days, I suppose I don’t mind talking about it as much as I used to.  I love telling the stories and showing the photos to people who are genuinely interested.  I think I don’t mind because the memories are getting a little fuzzier day by day.  I’ve been telling myself to start a journal with the stories that I am able to recall.  Something I can pass along to my kids. 

That’s all I’ve got.  I hope that answers your question.

Thanks for listening, again.

Steven

File under: Disheveled Journal Entry