As long as I hit "Send" after this post is completed (which I must have done if you're reading this now), this will be post #43 for 2022. That means I've posted exactly as many times as I did in 2021. But I'm not bragging about that. Last year's totals were a poor showing. In previous years, I've at least gotten into the 50 and 60-post range. 2019 was the exception but I think that was because I had a massive record collection that I was dealing with. Not an excuse. Just sayin'.
This year has been a crazy one. I recorded an album with my band, though the band itself doesn't really exist outside the studio now. The album got mastered recently and soon I will be sending it off to a pressing plant to have it turned into shiny pieces of plastic. I ordered a split single, each side devoted to the basement projects of two friends of mine. (That's right - I'm not on the record at all.) If all goes well with the universe, both of these records will be out in the spring.
While all that was going on, I came into another pile of records and I'm still working through the last one, which can take time. My place of work takes a lot out of me too, though much of that might be due to my headspace.
All of that doesn't leave much time for writing. Sure there's the occasional, pretty much monthly reviews for JazzTimes but that's really all there is. I think it dawned on me this year, though it's been the case for longer, that I don't have a local outlet to cover music in Pittsburgh. Besides this blog. When you combine that realization with the low numbers of people who check out the blog, add a sprinkle of mental exhaustion after a day of work, and the siren call of records that would like to be sold online so they don't take up space anymore... is there motivation to write? Can I even think critically? Can I listen critically to music? Can I listen without nodding off, not as a reflection of the music but of me?
As I leave those rhetorical questions hanging in the air for the moment, there was another thing that prevented me from posting anything in the last few weeks. I finally caught the big C.
Yes, I wear a mask at work 40 hours a week, pledging that I will keep doing that until the number of COVID cases in Allegheny County drops to 100 in a week (last week's report had 880 cases, down from the week before from the total of 914. Yay, Pittsburgh). But the day after Thanksgiving I attended the reunion show of first-wave punks Carsickness and the Cynics. By Monday I was feeling like two miles of bad road. Tuesday, I figured out why when I took a home test.
Thankfully, the lousy feeling didn't last too long. By Thursday, I had some energy back and was up and around in the house, though still being careful to keep my distance from the family. But in the thick of it, with all the fever dreams going on, there was a thin layer of depression on top of that. Wondering why I was dumb enough to get myself into that mess. Pissed that I was going to have to cancel a car inspection that was almost overdue. Panicked at the prospect of having to do that because who knows when I would be able to get it taken care of? (Answer- this week.) Car inspection has always been a source of great anxiety.
It was also giving me second thoughts about attending Winter Jazz Fest in New York next month. That was usually my big blow-out trip for the year (I don't really travel much otherwise.) I haven't been to a Winter Fest since 2020, when we were on the eve of the pandemic. Early this year, I was all set to go WJF '22, with passes purchased, bus tickets and hotel rooms booked, only to hear that it wasn't happening. Now, I'm kind of apprehensive about being around that many people and risking getting sick again. More significantly, I don't feel the drive that I once had to get to NYC and immerse myself in the shows, seeing everyone I know and would like to know. That part really feels sad.
We go through periods of our life where things that we used to do aren't as fun as they used to be. Sometimes that's for the better. I never had a taste for recreational substances so that passed me by. One day a few months ago, I had a thought: Drinking just makes me sleepy. I haven't stopped drinking altogether but I don't do it as much. When I do, it's almost always at home, so I feel like I'm being responsible. Coffee, on the other hand, has become part of my routine at several points of the day. I have a feeling that when co-workers see me at work, I almost always have my travel mug close by.
Hopefully writing about music won't be the next thing that gets cast by the wayside. Smaller freelancing opportunities, low blog readership and - most significantly - having to be both the writer and the one who imposes the deadline when something should be submitted to this blog, all tend to feel overwhelming and zap the energy these days. Listen to an album? Closely? Okay, which album? This one looks g-....no wait, how about this one? Wait - that's one I have been meaning to listen to. Along with those others. This one came out five months ago? Dammit. (In case any of my JT associates are reading this, I still relish any chance I get to write for them and the assignments still recharge my enthusiasm.)
In conclusion, this post might be more of a way for me to blow off the cobwebs and get back on the horse, so to speak. I had it in my head to do almost daily posts, going through Ivo Perelman's massive Reed Rapture In Brooklyn set, where he duets with a dozen reed players. I started listening to it, thought about smaller posts and then.....
Well, part of what happened was that two Sundays ago, there was a record fair in town. I had been hoping and waiting for the event for quite awhile. Pricing records for the show took several weeks. In order for me to release two records, I have to unload some too, which is what I did. I tested negative a few days prior, so I was in the clear, though my mask was on my face most of the time.
Now that the event is over, maybe I could focus on some writing.
Then again, Christmas is only five days away now. So we'll see.
In closing, here are photos of Karl Mullen of Carsickness (who also came down with COVID following the show) and Gregg Kostelich from the Cynics.
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2 comments:
Oh man, Mike. SOOOOOOO many feelz here. Where do I even start? Well, wishing you a swift and complete recovery from COVID seems like a good place to start. Shitty time of year to get sick (though staying out of the retail crush in December was a positive side-effect).
Your comment on freelance outlets hit home. When I moved to Cleveland, I entertained ambitions (a strange word for me) to pick up the music writing that I had done for the Erie Times. I'm no Bob Blumenthal or Ben Ratliff, but I thought I could throw some stuff over the transom at the local alt weekly. It turns out that there is no media oxygen here for covering the kind of music I write about, despite the dynamism and interest in the local scene.
So I did it myself here. My metrics are woeful, but it doesn't matter. Whatever else I do, I provide a link for artists and presenters to share, shareable media, being just as legitimate for them as their paid (ads), earned (traditional editorial) and owned (email blasts, websites) media efforts. It supports the scene and I'm happy to help, a healthy scene being a big part of why I moved here.
Then in June, on my way to a ballgame with longtime jazz DJ Jim Szabo, I listened to this NYT Popcast on the changing nature and continuing importance of venues to the health of scenes. Skip to about 44 minutes if you want (though the whole thing is instructive) and you'll find a reason for living.
Metrics are metrics, but if you're not monetizing your site (I'm not), simply documenting the scene is a worthy and even necessary vocation. Now, you have a day job and kids, so you have a lot more claims on your time to take care of the ones you love.
But don't you also love the music and the scene? And don't you want to take care of it as best you know how? Please don't lose faith, and please keep hammering away. You readers need you. The music needs you.
Happy New Year.
Thanks for putting it in a perspective that hits on many levels, John! That helps, quite a bit. And also - it means we'll have more common ground to discuss on those times that we meet up in person.
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