I hate people on general principles. Years of touring, seeing that there are wonderful people in the world et al can be very swiftly undermined in horrible not-so-subtle ways. Every day in the world of music and art it seems like there are such fantastic people willing to go out of their way for one another, but walking down the street it’s racial epithets division and hate. Let’s not even start on social media.
I gave a talk on being a musician, working in this world, being creative – I don’t know, I sort of meandered a bit and then let attendee’s questions bring things back down to earth (this worked surprisingly well – like, I started with philosophy and let THEM drill down to the nitty gritty) – and though I don’t know that anyone REALLY wanted to hear about it, after talking for over two hours about how this is the best job in the world DESPITE it being one of the hardest – I dove a little bit into the moral imperative of being an artist.
And maybe it’s important to specify – I don’t believe there’s any moral imperative to simply being a creator. We do these things for any number of reasons, and it doesn’t HAVE to have any communication at its heart – it doesn’t even ever have to reach anyone else’s ears or eyes or any other mind at all. However, when you get to talking about being a musician, not just in your Living room, but with the desire to tour and to travel, I DO think that it’s something you need to be aware of.
And I ALSO don’t mean everyone needs to be a protest singer. We can make stuff for ourselves, we can make things just to be pretty (or ugly, or as an attractive but subtle background to other people’s Lives) – but we SHOULD be more self-aware than the average human…
Not everything is terrible – Mosno and Nikki just got married – and there were many smiles to be had at the Teavolve open mic… 
A surprise visit from Charm City Social Club! Jammin’ betwixt great artists – the sax player from Joe Scala and the Marksmen (my featured artist for the night), Mosno Al-Moseeki, Dave Benham and Mark Welles on harmonica.
Social media has, of course, given EVERYONE a voice – but those of us who are going around and setting up in restaurants and colleges and bars and fields and getting face to face with the rest of our species – I think just as you don’t leave trash at your campsite and try to leave the place better than you found it, so with our venues and the minds in attendance. It doesn’t have to be a beautification. There’s a LOT to be said for channeling anger and rage and depression and sadness…
I’m sitting at Busboys and Poets. In a couple of hours I’ll be running an open mic here – just as I’ve done in any number of spaces, from ice cream parlours to coffeehouses to churches to bars to whatever. Strangely, I generally have to sort of extract guidelines from most places regarding community, what kind of …. Aura …. They want to project. I want to respect the owners’ wishes on that, because we’re their guests, and when it does NOT overlap with my own ideals of what an open mic ought to be, it’s time to go our separate ways.
LEA performing with bass player Will as my featured artist at the very first Busboys and Poets : LIVE at Takoma Park… A did a little begging, but DID get Matt Holsen to play for us! Chris Colvin strutting with his new wireless rig!
Busboys and Poets have a “Tribal Statement” that lays out EXACTLY what I’m talking about – and it’s spectacularly similar to what I WANT such a thing to be. Laying out belief in freedom of expression, no fear, but no hate speech either. No tolerance for intolerance may sound like an oxymoron, but only if you’ve never been at the sharp end of such a stick.
Interesting that “Sweet Home Alabama” comes up on the house system as I’m writing this. A fascinating song that is right on the balanced edge between pride and hate.
Anyhow – so I’m in a positive space. Beautiful space. Beautiful art on the walls. Some of the best collard greens I’ve had the opportunity to shove in my mouth. Kind people – a lot of positive messaging going on. And yet I’ve got echoes of yesterday still in my head.
Coming back from parking my car in Baltimore I’m waiting to cross at the intersection – finally the light goes red, which apparently is the signal for a massive pickup truck loaded down with lumber to blow the light and lurch against traffic causing much consternation with the guy who DID have the green, who lays on the horn. The pickup proceeds to stop (hush, these words amuse me in the midst of my rage) roll down his window (now blocking the whole intersection) give the other driver the finger and yell “Learn FUCKING ENGLISH you FUCKING MOTHER FUCKER!!!”
And what can I do? I’m kind of afraid, as the hornblowing and yelling progresses that I’m about to see some solid roadrage and racism unfold before me and … I get out my phone to take a picture? I’m not sure WHAT to do – but I’m too slow to even do that. I follow the truck for a sec to try to get a pic but, of course he’s held up traffic so HE’S now got a clear concourse to burn rubber on down the road.
I sort of want to catch up with the OTHER driver and say “yeah, that guy was an asshole, it’s not how everyone thinks” – but of course HE’S angry and had high tailed it the other way and… well… how would YOU respond to some random guy walking up to your car after that?
So – people piss me off. And I’m surrounded by gorgeous music (now a bluegrass rendition of Paul Simon’s “The Boxer”) and a beautiful space, bright and playful paintings cover the walls – and I’m about to set up for one of my favourite things (community-based open mic) with some of my favourite people (Lea is my feature) and I’ve just eaten some of my favourite foods (collard greens and a cubano sandwich – done particularly well) – but all I can think about is being powerless listening to this asshole rant at someone that he’d wronged, somehow feeling righteous because they’re different colours.
Last Thursday Kristen and I went out to Wieland’s BBQ on a whim. It’s awesome to have an open mic to go visit just down the street. It’s a great way to relax… plus… incredible BBQ!
