Where the wild things are

On the off-chance that it’s not appallingly obvious……I was being more than a little facetious with the title of my last blog post.

I’ve been feeling a bit flat this week.

Maybe it’s the time of year.  Maybe it’s the current state of international geo-politics and/or the economy.  Maybe it’s the political billboards that I have to drive past every morning, advertising the polished teeth and nauseating smiles of the current crop of government hopefuls.

What is it the Russians say?  Meet the new boss, same as the old boss?

Maybe it’s the fact that an increasingly massive proportion of internet traffic is AI bots.  Or the fact that most of the world seems to be happy about music no longer having any value.  Maybe it’s the fact that everyone is lying to us for money.

How did Hunter S. Thompson describe the entertainment industry?  A cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs?

I make a point of trying to go for a walk at lunchtime.  See the sun.  Feel the rain.  Breathe in the semi-fresh air.

On Wednesday as I was making my way back to work, I dropped by my local music store, The Rockshop, as is my custom.  It took a couple of minutes for me to realise that it was my own record, Shadows in the Shade, that was playing on the shop stereo.  It was the final chorus of The Little People, the first track on the record.  

It sounded great.

I had to make a phone call, so I moved into the room where the keyboards and PA speakers are on display.  As the call ended, I realised that the guitar solo in the next track, The Real Surreal, was kicking off and it sounded……absolutely killer.

As my good friend and musical desperado, Aaron ‘Redbeard’ Glemboski, said to me afterwards: “Hearing something (that you made) in the wild……it never gets old, man.” 

It made me feel a lot better……and it reminded me of the importance of acknowledging and cherishing the little victories.

The older and more cynical I get, the more important music is becoming for me.  Music is always there - waiting to be found or rediscovered, picked up and engaged with, treasured and shared and loved.  

And while it definitely does suck that for much of the human world, music has been reduced to a stream-able series of ones and zeros......I guess it doesn’t really matter.  Those of us who really love music and who really love making music……we are still here.  And we will carry on being here.

And maybe……just maybe……some of us will still be here when those who love only power and money have finished reducing themselves and each other to ones and zeros.

It’s silly for me to let these things get me down.  The great machine will always do what the great machine is designed to do.

And the little bee does not waste its time trying to convince the flies that honey tastes better than shit.