“Music has always been a matter of Energy to me, a question of Fuel. Sentimental people call it Inspiration, but what they really mean is Fuel. I have always needed Fuel. I am a serious consumer. On some nights I still believe that a car with the gas needle on empty can run about fifty more miles if you have the right music very loud on the radio.” -- Hunter S. Thompson
I like this quote a lot. It crystalizes, for me, some of my thoughts and experiences about music, fans, listeners and myself, the musician. Think about it. We don't really "need" to consume music so why in fact do we listen to it? As musicians--why do we make it?
Recently on some gigs I've interacted with what I feel is the consumer side of music. It's not so fun telling folks that this awesome and ethereal instrument you play like the Panart Hang for instance, is pretty much unatainable for them. To have to deliver that kind of news is not par for my course as I don't like delivering bad news. Sure I can send them to blogs, other instruments "inspired" by the Hang, but they want to know why not? They as why don't those people mass produce them and make them available for everyone. Essentially why don't they Walmartize them? This gets uncomfortable because I don't need to defend Panart anymore than I need to explain or justify. Then they move into how I got so lucky to get mine, am I special and how much did I pay. Whew. That's a lot for a simple introverted musician to handle.
Really I'd rather talk about how they felt hearing my music, and this, dear reader, is the crux of it all. Music makes us "feel" something. On Maslov's hierarchy of needs Music ain't on it. I think Hunter S. Thompson was a visionary maverick, but he may have got it wrong when he said he "consumes" music--I think we "experience" music. To paraphrase Dave Grohl 80,000 people come to your gig for 80,000 different reasons.
So think of your listeners as guests who all want you to take them somewhere else. You are the conductor and they trust you to transport. That, in fact, is one thing my fans at shows tell me over and over--that my music takes them somewhere else. Some close their eyes, some whip out iPads and film it, others bask in vibrational bliss. I've learned is really isn't about me and that's a hard lesson to understand. Sometimes as artists we work so hard, so long, practice years and years and expect the audience to "get it" and love everything we do and tell us hey they way you modulated that key was unbelievable. We want them to notice how we hung on that note with a straight tone only to move to the most subtle vibrato the world has ever heard. FORGET IT! Ha ha. Instead they say what key is that in? How much is it? Did you make it? What's your microphone?
Those questions can feel like such consumerist words we think why did I even show up? Maybe I'll just let my instruments and gear to the gig next time. I'm laughing at myself here and you should too. Fans want to engage and show their interest and don't always know how to do that. So best just to show up, pour your heart and soul into your music and be as patient and gracious as you'd like your own musical heroes to be. We don't know the language of how to show appreciation for when someone's art moves us. Often we are too afraid their ego will get to big if we focus on them so we ask about their gear, their hair, their clothes, their shoes....anything but the soul of the artist.
I've had FAQ cards for years and folks will pick them up, glance for 2 seconds and continue with their questions. They want "me" to take the time and tell them all the answers in their head when the real question is, "Why do I feel so moved by what I just heard you do?" That answer is because we all shared an ephemeral unity that only music has the power to do.
I recommend weaving as much info as you can into your on-stage banter. Also direct listeners to your website. Don't focus so much on you instruments or gear that it becomes a lecture. That's boring. Be real and best of all admit that you don't know much more than you've said and say you are not an expert. This elicits empathy from your audience and truth is--you aren't an expert, even on your own work.
Randy