a delicate definition

Today I’ve been thinking about “job” vs. “career” and wondering, ultimately, which direction I’ve been leading my musical life of late.

This is a summation of a topic that I think a lot of working musicians talk “around” but not really about, myself included. Lately the lament has been that our culture doesn’t place a substantial economic value on the skills offered by the working musician. A “working musician” being a player of professional competence and versatility who makes a living creating and performing various kinds of music in a wide variety of contexts, from symphonies to orchestra pits to wedding bands to restaurant jazz trios, etc. While the “organized” fields such as the symphony and the pit may allow for a stable and reliable income + benefits (like a “normal” job) the majority of us out there doing gigs and sessions see our labour/creative rate fluctuate wildly and the density of our employment is in a similar state of constant change.

In previous posts I have lamented the “$100 gig” dilemma, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon. The bulk of the regular in-town gigs to be had these days are in the $100-$200 range, and have been seemingly forever (now, that meant that in 1981, a $100 gig wasn’t so bad, but in 2006, it’s just barely scraping by…).

Lately, however, I’ve had a change of view about this particular dilemma. I think the $100 thing might be just about right. The prevailing view is that gigs pay $100 because that is what it’s worth to most people, even though they would pay a plumber (who probably has less overall training behind his nonetheless essential skills) five times that for the same amount of work. This is is essence true, but by no means a failing of “most people” (or, plumbers for that matter). Here’s what I think: most “working musicians” are squandering their talents. And, I include myself in that somewhat disgraceful number.

Fact is, there’s still great money to be made in music, and people are willing to pay to hear and see music that excites them and engages them. What most working musicians do falls under the range of “cover bands” and other interpretive work. Perhaps it’s natural selection that you can’t become wealthy playing in bars or doing weddings (you may make a decent living, but you’ll put in the hours to get it); if you could, no one would take the risks they do for artistic success.

This is where I see the distinction between a “job” and a “career”. I think the working musician makes music in the context of a job, where labour is exchanged for money. A career musician offers up something unique to the world (and the market) and hopes to connect their unique expression or vision with the world at large, and ultimately (should their work resonate with others) forge this unique vision into a capital-generating entity, either through selling the work itself, or “branding” the work or their artistic persona. I am not suggesting that art is motivated by commerce, but I do submit that without some economic underpinning art and artists would be without a stage to show their work. I think it’s also important to note that the degree of risk for failure is exponentially higher for the “career” musician than the working musician.

The reason I have been thinking about this distinction is because I think when musicians are dissatisfied by the music they are making, or the money they are making from music, it may be a case of unrealistic expectations on their part.

It’s possible to live in both worlds. I do, but finding a balance is extremely difficult. For me, my truly personal creative work represents (in the purest form) the most potential for great success, simply because there is no one else like me (and there’s no one else like you either) and if my work resonates with the public at some point, only I can provide that work, so I stand to gain from this position. The catch is that the odds of this happening are narrow, so the gains don’t seem tangible. My “job” provides the most immediate way to make money with my skills, but the catch is that the work will be low-paying and generally does not require “me” specifically to do it.

The real issue I struggle with is that the “job” consumes so much of my available creative time that sometimes I feel like I am watching my “career” float away into the sunset. The “job” showed up when the mortgage showed up, and the mortgage isn’t going away, so what is one to do? I know a great many musicians who have simply hunkered down and played their gigs, FOR YEARS, taking comfort in that fact, even if it is a job, it’s still a pretty good job in terms of the work itself (there are far more tedious and/or dangerous jobs one could have). I have no idea if they’ll ever poke their heads up again, and a great many have found fulfillment outside of music through family, or other disciplinary pursuits that they may not even miss the “career”.

For me, I’m feeling like “less work, more art” is the path I have to follow. That may mean doing a different kind of “work” (work that may pay better, or requires less of my time), and reserving music 100% for my creative soul.  I may be be able to re-structure my musical “jobs” to pay better or more efficiently, but I’m not holding my breath. Eliminating work altogether is not an option (unless there is some antiquated royal house in Luxembourg  that would like to become a patron of the arts… :)), so working smarter is essential to opening up my art.

There’s some great music to be made, and I get glimpses of it when Rob and Ed and I get to do  gig every six weeks or so (next glimpse 12/13 @ tea lounge in Brooklyn NY). I owe it to the music to at least give it a shot.

UP THIS WEEK: this Friday cc3 is in the stu-stu-studio (oh-whoa..) <shout-out to Phil Collins!>, stay tuned for pics this weekend

2 thoughts on “a delicate definition

  1. In my wife’s words, “If Chris Cawthray is wondering about [whether he’s pursuing a job or a career], then we’re all screwed!”

    I’ve never been musically creative (i.e. making new work as opposed to interpreting someone else’s) but the same dilemma you discuss is forcing me in that direction. On one hand, there aren’t many percussionists here proficient on two big hand drums (congas & jembe), but on the other hand the demand is limited and growing too slowly to catch up with my mortgage.

    Jobbing isn’t too hard: show up on time, play right, get more calls. Creating is tougher and riskier (in terms of time, effort, and your self-esteem), but I agree the potential reward is far greater, especially if your work’s time has come. Go get ’em! Godspeed, and I say that for myself as well.

  2. Hi Derek,

    You know, I think the drums are unfair to us sometimes. My problem is that I’m still EXCITED every time I go to the drums. I can’t wait to hear what is going to come out of the drum or cymbal after I hit it. That sense of discovery makes it hard to give up event the worst of gigs, because a bad day on the drums is better than a great day almost anywhere else professionally. 🙂

    Please remember that you have my support in your endeavours, as I know I have yours.

    -chris

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