ceciliatan

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I took a hot shower to ger the kinks out of my neck but at rehearsal I discovered that the band was at least as off kilter after a week off as my emotions were after the experience of the previous night. Part of that might have been that Ziggy, seeming contrite, was subdued and that made for an almost timid approach to his vocals, which made the whole rest of the band hesitant.

Which made me frustrated. Now was the time we needed to be gelling, so everything could be solid before I was about to disappear for six weeks. If this was how shaky things got after one week off, what would it be like when I arrived here on September 3? To try to inject some energy, Marvelle was overdoing it, while keying in to Ziggy’s reticence Bradley was underdoing it, Chris and Bart were taking their cues from me, and I was all over the fucking place.

I made us break to eat when we weren’t even really hungry yet.

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I meant it when I said that “compromise” is part of the package if you’re going to be a professional musician, if what you mean by compromise is you accept that you might not just be able to scream the word “fuck” two hundred times and call it a song. Or any other thing that you might want to do. Understand, you have every right to scream “fuck” two hundred times if you want: It’s that no one gives you a right to make a living doing it. If no one wants to hear you, that doesn’t mean your art isn’t valid or important or good, just that it isn’t commercial.