Ad Free Member
- Jan 18, 2013
- West O' Philly, PA
Okay. I've thought about this long enough. Here it is:Good points.
All joking aside, I'd argue two things. Firstly, whether or not A is a musician is somewhat subjective. You may have a different and equally valid view but, to me, someone who makes music is a musician. That might involve writing incredibly complex atonal modern symphonies or it might involve chuntering over a single, droning chord. It's all music.
Someone who makes a living from making music is a professional musician. A dentist who makes music is therefore a musician.
This brings us to point two, which is all about self identity. Identity is 'nested', meaning that we all have lots of identities. Our ivory- tapping dentist may well identify as a musician in certain circumstances. And as a dentist in others. And a woman in others. And an Italian in others. And all four in others. And so on. Whether other people accept those self-identifications is a different (and very topical) question, but what I hope most of us could agree is that identity is fluid, multi-faceted and complex.
Thus my earlier joke. To say that music composed on a computer is not music or that people who create it are not musicians is to unreasonably constrain the definition of 'music' and 'musician' and to seek to define it instead as 'things I approve of.' Let's get real here. If Robert Johnson was alive today, is it more likely that he would be wearing a 1930s suit and playing 1930s music on his guitar, or that he would be a rapper?
I'd say that was an entirely valid position to take.Okay. I've thought about this long enough. Here it is:
I call someone who plays a musical instrument a musician.
I call someone who sings a singer.
I call someone who composes music on a computer or on paper a composer.
Makes sense to me, anyway.
Of course, I'm primarily a banjoist. Screaming, crying, teenage girls are a very common sight with me.
Thankfully, they're usually running away...
That said I just found this wonderful meeting of music and computers sent to me by a classical cello playing friend... might go to the next UK Comicon current squeeze is badgering me to go to with her if this lot show up.
I'm reminded of a folk music session I once joined in with at a pub by the Ironbridge Gorge.It's like he's a drummer with the personality of a builder or a mechanic, and all his friends seemed to be the builder/mechanic types who exist in a totally separate social bubble to all the 'musician' types...
Not exactly what I said, but exactly what I meant.I'd say that was an entirely valid position to take.
Just my opinion, of course, but I'd consider someone who creates music to be a composer (or a songwriter), whatever medium they happen to use. But that is not so very different from your position.
Yup. I don't enjoy it, but there's plenty of music (and visual art and food and cities and cars and insects) I don't like.The point is really about disabusing this notion that music made on computers is at best bad and at worst not actually music at all.
Now you got me. I've turned into as cranky a curmudgeon as my dad ever was.Folk who say that sort of thing are just stepping into the shoes of their parents or grandparents,
Yup! In fact, that's why I took up guitar. And why I never tell my youngest niece that the music she listens to sucks.who'd dismiss most of the musical gods of TDPRI (Beatles, Stones, Hendrix, Stevie Ray Vaughan etc) as "a damn racket.
Now they're too damn clean, manicured, buffed, shined, spit-polished, and gussied up.Can't hear the words, old chap. And the soapdodging blighters look like they need a jolly good scrub down."
How can one not. Used to work with an electronica fan. From his desk all day long: TSSS-tikka-TSS-tikka-TSS-tikka-TSS-tikka . . . .The excitement that so many people have for electronica and rap acts is just the same as the excitement everyone had for the bands of their youth (which, for me at least, was during the early years of both those forms of music). It's one thing not to like electronica and to think it sounds like a thousand angry bees trying to get out of a tin box,
It does in my house!but subjective dislike does not make that whole genre bad.
How I wish.The times they are a changin',
Yup, again! And as Breakwind put it, it's the business of the present to stink.as some dreary hippy that my Dad liked used to warble. Or, as Hawkwind put it in one of their more lucid moments, it is the business of the future to be dangerous.
When I was Single and, on the Road, WOW!!!A friend sent me this well-known meme now that’s its common knowledge amongst them that I write and produce pop, dance and K-Pop tracks after years of playing mostly jazz and looking down at their pop sensibilities,
It made me think of memorable moments in my social life that were centred around my being a professional musician…
Way back in the in 1981, one of my neighbours had a barbeque and I met his utterly charming sister, a single 20 something like me. She was excited when she found out that I was a “professional musician”, i.e. my full time job.
We arranged to go an date and I suggested she come watch me work (so I could duly impress her) and then we could go for a late night romantic meal. So roll on Saturday night and there was yours truly in his finest wedding tuxedo and bow tie, in the pit band doing a Morecambe and Wise special at the old Rediffusion studios now owned by Lee International in Wembley (where we both lived).It was my best paid gig as I got double scale and golden as it was the weekend and after 5pm, plus I was playing in a top rated TV show watched by millions, what could possibly go wrong?
After the show, she came down to the green room and after a few drinks and some banter with the totally charming Eric Morecambe , off we went to a little faux French bistro a few doors down.
I couldn’t help noticing she didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic and as we got to the coffees and black forest gateau ( folks this was 1981 and I was showing my exceptional gourmand taste) I asked her what was wrong.
She rather sadly told me that when she heard I was a professional musician , that it would be something like Pink Floyd or Blondie etc. She complained, you play the stuff my dad likes and in a suit.
We finished our meal and went our separate ways, me to another few decades of session, pit band and cruises then starting and selling a web agency, finally returning to sessions, writing and producing. She got married to a local jack the lad turned property developer and moved to sunny Spain.
The meme made me curious as to what had happened to her: Knowing she now lived in Dorset, very near me (through her brother), we met for a coffee a few days ago: It turns out out she had a pretty wild ride for the past four decades including five marriages. Her first one ended when jack the lad turned out to more of fraudster than a business man and ran off to hide in Greece and was subsequently jailed for 10 years. Her latest lasted two years until he ran off to Thailand with her teenage daughters best friend, also a teenager.
I also noted there was an awful lot of hand touching , complementing me on my still shoulder length hair and hugging going on and then she leant over and asked,
“So you are still a musician?”
“Yes” I replied
“and I’ve still got that tuxedo that your dad liked so much.”
I’d love to hear of your musically influenced encounters.
What a great story. Smiling from ear to ear.I've told this before. In college in the '70s I spent hours in a stairwell practicing because it had the most fantastic reverb and also a view out over hundreds of miles because the college sat on the peak of a mountain. Well, anyway, one day a tiny, beautiful gal came down the stairs with a guitar that belonged to a friend and asked me to tune it. I pulled out my harmonica (that's how we did it in those days) and tuned it up. She muttered a bored, "Thanks," spun on her heels, and trotted back up the stairs.
A little while later that girl was assigned to my engine company in the city's fire department. She showed no interest in me again. She was a socialite type and I was a long-haired musician studying Philosophy and Theology.
One evening after I was dumped by another girl, I decided I was taking dating all too seriously and needed to take out a girl with whom I had no future whatsoever, just for the fun of it. I was standing in the lobby of the largest dorm building and let my eyes cross the room to see the students sitting on couches and chairs and studying. My eyes settled on her, sitting alone and studying. Perfect. I went over and offered to take her down into the town for coffee and studying at this little cozy restaurant. She looked up at me doubtfully, made her decision, and said, "Let me get my coat." We went to the little place and talked and talked, drank coffee, and had their fantastic chocolate fudge cake.
Turned out that being a classically-trained soprano, she categorically disliked rock musicians, especially guitarists.
That was forty-five years ago, forty-three of which we've been married. She still doesn't like very many rock guitarists.