Yesterday was sorely needed. Kristen and I webcast a show for about an hour, performing for almost a hundred friends and fans and mysterious names that I didn’t recognize. We played our stuff and covers by the Mountain Goats and David Bowie and we dusted off ancient songs because they spoke to us. “Chalk Pit” means something different now, and “bRIDGE” with its plaintive cry to God to keep my friends safe means something different now. Hell, playing “Drown” – a song nominally about my hatred of playing bars and venues where the audience stays young as me and the staff get older and older – as even THAT outlet is denied me – it means something different now.
I say to myself that this too shall pass, and it probably will, and when it does I probably won’t ever forget these weeks or… if they stretch longer… months of confinement and isolation… but I haven’t been writing about it, instead, letting the thoughts squirrel around in my head.
Weirdly, the first couple of days seemed almost like a vacation. I feel guilty about it, but the world had stopped pounding on the door… but I can’t leave the world be and so I’ve been slowly inviting it back in. In general it’s seemed to take about a week for people to recover a bit of their gumption and switch to Zoom meetings and incessant online concerts – the latter – the CONSTANT nature of the webcasting from just about everyone I know – had kept Kristen and I from entertaining the idea of doing it ourselves. But we finally buckled down and played last night and it was… as mentioned… sorely needed.
By now that hour long set is the most-viewed video of any we’ve ever recorded, at over 1,200 views. It’s netted us some much-needed income as well, and watching it MYSELF (yes, I’m one of the 1,200) I’m happy that watching us… makes me happy! A double dose. Playing with Kristen, we’re charming and we sound good and it meant SO much to have so many friends and fans tune in.
My music is generally for myself. And I’m just very, very, very lucky that it means anything to anyone else to boot. It’s given me a very rare opportunity : to make a (meager!) Living off of being ME and doing what *I* want to do. It’s why I’m not very good at working with others or being told how to do things anymore. I’ve spent 20 years doing pretty much as I damned well please.
For better or for worse.
But recently I’ve been getting away from my roots… but not last night. Last night I played my little heart out because I really, really, really needed to. And people listened. And people cared. That’s probably still about me. But I seemed to make a bunch of people happy. And that means an awful lot.
And so I’m scared. I think we’re all scared. If you’re not scared you’re probably listening to Trump a little too gullibly and not… every single medical professional and epidemiologist out there. The CDC is MIA. The White House spouts nonsense. And in general were months late to a party that started without us. I hope I’m being overly cynical. But I’m scared.
And I hate watching the country get more and more polarized. It’s like a microcosm (a *microcosm* that’s killing tens of thousands) of global warming – watching us simply unable to believe something that’s not in front of our faces, trying to wish it away, despite the inestimable cost bearing down on us.
I worry about my friends. Two have already died during this crisis. They probably weren’t related. But they’re now footnotes in a greater tragedy, like people killed in car accidents during a war.
Hey Ari – thanks for the lightsaber.
Hey Ernie – you were a kinder host than I.
I Love you people.
Other thoughts :
My generation has never known rationing. I’m legitimately pausing in my consumption of things NOT because I know I shouldn’t eat EVERYTHING but because I don’t know if we’ll be able to get more.
Zoom sucks for music. Ironic.
Why can’t we still get all the cool Star Wars and Game of Thrones overlays on Facebook Live now that I have reason to finally use Facebook Live?
I should’ve bought a fucking phone audio interface when I had the chance. ETA… May.
The cat has wandered out through open doors twice much to our consternation. But the cat came back. He wouldn’t stay away. Frankly both times he made it about 4 feet and lay down.
