There’s an old saw that goes something like this: once you find a happy relationship, you can’t write good songs because you’re not miserable. And it’s certainly true that my songwriting output has dropped rather precipitously of late. But I can’t attribute that to my delightful spouse, She Who Must Be Taunted, because I’ve written lots of my best songs since I’ve met her – in fact, virtually everything I perform regularly was composed after we got married. So let’s put the last nail in the coffin of this particular old saw. And yet, there’s an element of truth here – it’s just not the element of truth you might think.
One of my recent weeks looked like this.
Tuesday: I attended the open mike at the Center for Arts in Natick. I don’t attend open mikes the way I used to, but my pal Rob Siegel was the feature, and I haven’t heard Rob in a while. I did “I Ain’t In It for the Money” and “I Wanna Write Me a Bad Song”, which went over especially well that evening. And Rob killed, as usual. We talked about my album, and he asked me where I was recording it, which, as you faithful readers will recall, is out at the Root Cellar in Westminster. And Rob said, “I’d love to record my next album, but I don’t have the time to drive an hour each way to do it.” Hold that thought.
Wednesday: Dave and I had another one of our weekly rehearsals for the album. This process has turned out to be both spectacularly time-consuming and extremely valuable, since Dave and I have used the doom of studio precision to force ourselves to actually write the percussion parts we should have actually written years ago. On the other hand, some of the parts are on an actual drum kit, which we will never use in a live show, so maybe it isn’t helping as much as we’re hoping. Dave lives in Needham, which is a half-hour each way; I’m pretty sure, between rehearsals and recording sessions, that the primary expense for this album will be gasoline.
Thursday: I had my monthly guitar lesson with Ray Gonzalez, whom I highly recommend for anyone who’s more serious than me about practicing. Ray has been very patient with my monthly explanation about why I don’t have anything new for him to hear. Last month, I actually practiced for a few days, and I believe he just about fainted.
Friday: I had my twice-monthly singing lesson with Ruth Harcovitz, whom I highly recommend for anyone who’s more serious than me about practicing (did I just say that again? why yes, I believe I did). I tend to use my lessons as a twice-monthly refresher about what I should have been practicing, but somehow, over the last seventeen years (gulp), I’ve actually learned a great deal. I have no idea how. It’s frequently occurred to me that if I only practiced any of the instruments I’ve studied, I could actually be quite good at them; but instead, I limp along on my tremendous native talent (and modesty).
Saturday: I drove up to Newburyport to see Susan Levine and Doug Kwartler at the 17 State Street Cafe, for two reasons: first, I hadn’t seen Susan in a while, and second, I have a gig there this month (you ARE coming, aren’t you?). It was a good night – Susan and Doug sound excellent together, and the room is pretty well set up for music. Plus, I had two ideas for songs.
Sunday: Yet another album rehearsal, because Dave was rehearsing with someone else on our usual night. Dave has always had, like, three projects going simultaneously, in completely different styles. Right now, he’s playing with me, he’s playing with a reggae musician, and he’s in either one or two (or three) marching bands – I’ve lost count. I’m sure, given the opportunity, he’d join a Def Leppard cover band, but I don’t think he has the hair for it.
Monday: I paid my approximately monthly visit to the Lizard Lounge open mike, a hotbed of talent which always keeps me on my toes. The night opened with a woman named Jenna something or other, who has an agent and a producer and a song she was going to play at NAMM (a big music to-do) in a few weeks. Jealous? Me? Never. I got up and reminded people that we might be able to say we knew her when, and that my next song was a bitter tirade for all the people who aren’t going to NAMM, and I played “I Ain’t In It for the Money” again.
And then Wednesday, I drove out to Westminster (an hour each way, as you’ll recall) for a recording session.
If I were to keep up this schedule, maybe I’d make a dent in the world, musically. But I can’t, really, because – and now we return to our original theme – I have a delightful wife. Being happily married doesn’t sap my creative energy – but it takes time, tons of it. All the shmooping fills up my appointment book, to the point where there’s not enough time to become famous. Rob Siegel, apparently, has the same problem.
So that’s the bottom line: if you’re not famous, blame your spouse.