Hope Is Not A Plan

I love Las Vegas.

It's expensive, indulgent, grand and invigorating, but also seedy, dirty, risky and damaging at the same time. Bonus. I'm equally at ease whether sipping on McCallan at a new club like the Encore's XS, or making friends with a blue-haired lady & her sidecar oxygen tank downtown at the Fremont. I love the architecture, the lights, the clink of chips, the hours, the exhaustion, the music, the history, the excess, the grit, the emptiness...the sum of its dichotomy. But what I really love most about Vegas is what hangs "in the air". Thicker than the smoke...thicker than the perfumed people...is the palpable sense of HOPE; of an excited expectation that something special is about to happen to you. I seek out this sensation to bask & marinate in it. And nowhere is this more concentrated than in the casinos.

Which is stupid, really.

If you expect to walk out of a casino with more money than an unemployment check, you're dumb. Vegas itself would cease to exist if even a single game's odds were in the players' favor (Hold 'em excluded). We all know this. So why do we play? Because we HOPE we're the exception. It compels us because, somehow, we convince ourselves that we are deserving of success. Smarter than the average bear. But for every rare gambler who can boast about striking it rich, there are thousands who leave Vegas every day, filled with regret. For some, we can rationalize the fun along the way was worth the expense. The free drinks. The encouragement of vices. Loud music. The beautiful people. Free shampoo. In the end, most go home broke, possibly with a consolation prize that requires an ointment.

But this is just one weekend. You bounce back, strong like bull. What really weighs on my shoulders is that this is an analogy for what unsigned artists go through every day.

Just like Vegas, the hope of rare success--taking your music to the masses--is intoxicating. MTV makes it appear that anyone can do it. Moreover, you want it so badly that you can easily fantasize & convince yourself that you DESERVE to defy the odds; that not only SHOULD it be you, it CAN be you. So you schlep gear around to endless shows; pass out flyers to extremely grateful strangers; get carpal tunnel from MySpacin' all day; put up with primadonna bandmates. Again & again & again. Like a fly ramming repeatedly into a window. "Maybe this time I'll get in. Maybe this time I'll get in. Maybe this time I'll get in." Hoping...while eating crap food. Hoping...while dropping out of school. Hoping...while driving a P.O.S. car. Hoping...with growing debt. Hoping...while growing older.

I know this because I WAS this. An unsigned artist for a solid decade +. Reading all I could get my hands on. Attending seminars. Collecting email addresses. Getting a degree in music. Stalking A&R guys. This, of course, on top of songwriting & rehearsals & recording & shows. Only in hindsight...and the bitter-sweet wisdom that failure brings...did I learn one very, VERY important lesson:

HOPE IS NOT A PLAN.

With that golden nugget of presumed wisdom, I welcome you to the first entry of ArtiSans Label's blog, Release Your Music. Here, through daily updates from a collective of authors from various areas of expertise, we will "pay it forward". We will share with you, from our combined 50+ years in the trenches of the industry, how to strategize & PLAN for a sustainable music career. We'll cover topics ranging from recording & producing to marketing & online social media strategy. You'll also learn about us as people, what makes us tick, and why we feel that the future of the music industry will be built on honest, reliable, good ol'-fashioned customer service.

One more thing I dig about Vegas: Frank Sinatra. So I'll leave you with a quote from ol' blue eyes:

“People often remark that I'm pretty lucky. Luck is only important in so far as getting the chance to sell yourself at the right moment. After that, you've got to have talent and know how to use it.”

Hot damn.

Michael
www.artisanslabel.com
studio.artisanslabel.com