I Must Pay the Bills With My Rock

 In Tenacious D and the Pick of Destiny, JB and KG set out on a mission.  Dozens of unforseen obsticles got in their way. They were drugged, assaulted, and nearly dragged into Hell and ass raped by Satan himself.
I can't say that my Tenacious D inspired journey to Pay the Rent with my Rock has been quite as dramatic, but I've certaintly been drugged and have gone through some degree of Hell. Just as the "D" completed their mission and found the Pick of Destiny, I also feel that I've completed mine, fore the Rent has been Paid by my Rock. How am I to top that? The sequal to this epic adventure is now in pre-production: The Bills.  

The further I dig into this mission, the more impossible it seems. Originally, I chose the goal of paying the Rent with my Rock for 2 logical reasons: 1) Its part of the Pick of Destiny movie, and 2) my Rent was the biggest bill.  It turns out that I was wrong about the latter. My Guitar Center bill was actually the highest expense of all. Without giving out too many details, I'll just say that I spent more money at Guitar Center in 2010 than anywhere else. Guitar Center got more than my land lord. Guitar Center got fed more than my IRA. Guitar Center got more money from me than Chevron. I spent more money at Guitar Center than my Rock generated. That means that if all my other expenses magically disapeared with the bite of a mushroom and a swim down the Strawberry River, I'd still not even pay off the gear that I rock on with my Rock. In fact, I should change this blog rite now to http://www.imustpaymyguitarcenterbillwithmyrock.com/

I've always joked about having a guitar and effects pedal addiction. Now I'm asking myself if its true. Could I stop buying guitars if I wanted to? Thats totally fucking irrelevant because I DONT WANT TO STOP!!!!!!

The first step to substance abuse recovery is to admit you have a problem. This, I have done. But what happens if you have an even worse problem than booze or cocaine? I did that math too. It would be cheaper for me to be an actual real-life junkie than it is to be a Guitar Junkie.

Upon further investigation, I found that The Rent wasn't the second largest expense in my life either. Its food. Like many young Rocker Males, I eat out every meal of the day.  Since I don't wake up early enough for breakfast, I eat out twice a day. Every single day. I can't recall the last time I went to the grocery store. To try to find out, I looked through my bank statements for the last 2 years. Nothing. I haven't been grocery shopping like a regular person since before 2009.

Could things get any more complicated? In the world of Rock,  they always can. Digging even deeper into my bank statements, I found that The Rent wasnt even my third most gouging expense. Transportation gets the Bronze Medal for wallet assault.  I have two motor vehicles: a luxery car and a full size van. The van, of course, was purchased and primarily used for hauling gear to rehearsals and gigs, with the occasional perk of sleeping off a buzz until it's legally time to drive home. Insurance and car payments equaled slightly less than the Rent, but factoring gas and maintanence throughout the year summed to The Rent x 1.5. FUCK!!!!!!!!

Paying the Bills with my Rock is proving to be exponentially more difficult than mearly Paying the Rent. At my usual gig rate, I could play every night of the month and still not be able to afford the life I've been leading. There's only 2 ways around this: 1) Become a bonified Rock Star or, 2) Change my entire life style. Option Number One sounds a lot more fun. Option Number 2 though, will likely have to come first.  

How I Paid My Rent with my Rock

It pleases me to share that over the last 6 months I've consistantly Paid the Rent with money exclusively generated by my Rock. Most months I barely made it, by as little as $1, but the Rent was paid and I didn't get evicted. Here's how:

Do What You Say, and Say What You Do
          I accomplished most of the goals set in the first installment of this blog. going back to October 2010, I did indeed:

• Earn enough leverage at Branagan's to negotiate double the pay
• Focus on my original band, Post Trauma. This seemed like one of the least lucritive avenues at the begining of this adventure, but time and effort have now made it the most profitable. So  much to the point that I actually had to give up the Branagan's gig to play better paying gigs with the band.
• "And finally, I just need more fucking paying gigs." I logged in more hours doing The Boring Stuff, (booking, promotion, ect) and what do you know? More paying gigs.

Jagermeister: In May, my band got sponsored by Jagermeister. The Jager Stamp of Legitimacy has made it easier to book Friday and Saturday nights, at places you want, to play. Additionally, its been a Hell of a lot of fun, and people are attracted to fun.  (drink Jager responsibly.)

Humilty: I asked for advice when I needed it, and my Grandpapi never fails to lead me in the rite direction (as seen in the January post)

Do the Rite Thing: Many business owners and entertainment types in 2011 would disagree with this policy, but up to this point it has worked in my advantage. Everytime that I've helped out a friend in music, regardless of the immeadiate pay off, its always paid off.

Know Your Value and Stick to It: This is one of the trickiest parts, but also the most important. You can't demand $1000 from a club owner unless he knows he's going to add a zero to the end of that figure on his revenue. On the other hand, once you know that you can deliver profitable results for the bar, you need to make that known and get your fair cut also. When youre starting out, 'Oat Meal is Better than No-Meal." But at some point, you have to take it to the next level and establish your value.

Be Unique: My band achieved these goals by playing songs that other bands either don't think to play, or are unable to play. This has attracted enough attention to pack the house multiple times per week, which in return gives us the leverage we need to get paid. 

Diversify: I've spent a lot of time playing as a 'hired gun' or just a 'volunteer gun' in 2011.  Some these projects proved to be an absolute waste of my time and gas on a Paying the Rent level, others went over better but just didn't have the long term potential that I saw in my own group. Unintentially, each group I've played with has lead to meeting interesting people, making more friends, and having a larger pool of connections that inadvertantly helped to progress Post Trauma.  On months we're my band had only 1 gig, being a Hired Gun paid the Rent.

Time: I found that when I really buckled down and gave Post Trauma my full and undivided attention, things really started coming together and the Rent was getting Paid. Time dedicated to The Boring Stuff (booking, promotion, ect) pays off a lot more than being good. (See my post on Rebecca Black)

Serve the Audience, Not Yourself: Even on nights were there were only 10 people, I played like they were the 10 most important people in the world.  Don't crank it to 11, Mr. Spinal Tap, because that makes your audience deaf, if they bother to stick around. Save the face melting guitar solos for later in the night, once you've already won them over. Your original songs are like green beans to a toddler, you have to trick them into liking it, otherwise they'll just puke it up all over your nice jeans.

Get off the Couch: Did you see the last episode of Family Guy? Do you know who got voted off the island? How about that epic game winning play on Monday Night Football? If you answered yes to any of these, you are in the wrong business. Rocking takes a lot of time, the time that most Americans spend in front of the television, and then some more beyond that.

Now that I've Paid the Rent with my Rock, and will continue to do so, its time for the dawning of a new era...The Rest of the Bills

P.S.- If you have suggestions or connections to help me pay the Bills with my Rock, please, don't hesitate. I thank you all for your support.

Is Rebecca Black's 'Friday' good music?

So here I am, working my ass off, writting songs, performing 2 and 3 times a week, hustling new fans and Facebook followers, slanging T shirts, trying to Pay the Rent with my Rock. Then one night I get a request from the audience to play 'Friday' by Rebecca Black. At this point I'd never heard it before. When I saw the video on Youtube later that night, I was horrified. What a shitty voice. Then when I noticed she had 58 MILLION views, I was furious! It seemed that everyone was laughing at this poor 13 year old, yet she had suprapssed even Lady Gaga, and she did it by SUCKING. No, not like that.  Obviously I was going about this Rock Star thing all wrong by trying to play and sing to the best of my abilities. Being good at what you do just isn't rewarded in the iPhone generation. As a week passed and I learned the song just to be an asshole, I started to wonder, 'is this song actually good?' Here's why it is.

1. Content is everything

Some musicologists claim that part of the Beatles success was that they had a massive catologue of songs that all people can relate too. Although Rebecca doesn't have a massive catalogue of anything, it's fair to say that all people can indeed relate to the lyrics of 'Friday.' Who isn't looking forward to the weekend? Who doesn't wake in the morning and get their bowl, for cerial? Even if that isnt your current routine, it was when you were 13. Rebecca Black touches upon the Basic Fundamental Human Conflicts of Generation Y. Years ago, the BFHC would have been tied to food and survival. Such things aren't even an afterthought of watching "City of God" to the modern American teenager or working stiff. Even as few as 10 years ago, the BFHC would have been political. Bush or Gore??? Tweedle Dee or Tweedle Dumb??? Again, such choices are completely irrelevant, as the vast majority of Americans are obliviouos to world politics. These days, the front seat or the back seat, 'which seat should I take?' captures the escense of the Youtube generation and the vital decisions they must make on a daily basis.

2) You've heard these chords before, and you love them.

The chord structure used in this song is a classic 4 chord 'Doo Wop.'  The key or the tempo may change from one group to the next, but the mathematical theory behind them are exactly the same. 'Friday' is 'Earth Angel.'  'Earth Angel' is 'Teenager in Love.' These chords, in this order, can be heard in 'Amazing' by Bruno Mars.  The critically acclaimed Ben Harper used them in 'Another Lonely Day.' Before Green Day became Pop mega stars, they davelend in these chords on 'Christie Road' on the Kerplunk album.  There are hundreds of hits from all genres that use this classic 'Doo Wop' chord progression. If you have ears, you love one of these songs, and whichever that one may be, it is 'Friday' too.

3) Sing Along, you know you want to
One of the most important aspects of any Top 40 song is its Sing-along-ability.  The prominent 'Friday' note that Rebecca sings on the chorus is a D. This note is at the high end of a Baritone, the low end of a Soprano, and rite in the sweet spot for a Tenor.  The only point here is that 'Friday'  isn't out of the range of ANYBODY.

4) Singing well and being attractive are irrelevant.
The following is a list of performers from different genres that have shitty voices and are not very attractive by traditional standards.  I have paid good money for Cd's and concert tickets for most of the cited artists here, furthing proving the point that singing well and being good looking have little to do with success in the music industry.

Tom Petty
Bob Dylan
Billy Corigan
Marilyn Manson
Lad Gaga (seriously dudes, look up some pics of her face out of costume. Buh-buh-buh-butterface)
Dave Mustain
Slayer
Johnny Cash
Mic Jager
Iggy Pop
Rancid


5) The only reason you listened to this song is because you wanted to
I used to play in band with a brilliant bassist. He has since continued his studies and become a prfessor of music at Cal State San Marcos. One evening at his house, I asked him the most cliche question you could possibly ask a music professor..."Bob, since you know what you are talking about now, what is good music?" His response was something akin to this...." My students ask this all the time. There are a million books on the subject, half a million of which I had to read in graduate school. But the fact is that all of them miss the point. Is good music something that displays virtuosity? No. Yngvew Malmstien is not good music. Is it something with feeling? No. Annie DeFranco is not good music. Is it something that rocks? Again, no! Warrant is not good music. All the these answers fail because they are all subjective to the individual listener. So whats the one factor that is not subjective to genre, style, age or taste? This is theone true answer: Good music is something that you want to hear again."

Now ask youself this: how many times have you heard 'Friday?'

Now think about this: Rebecca Black is on YOUTUBE!!! This song is NOT on the radio, it is NOT playing at Starbucks in the background, it is NOT on a movie sound track and it is NOT being broadcast over the Homeland Security loudspeakers.  Its on fucking Youtube. So I'll give you the first view for curiosity's sake. But the only reason you heard this song more than once is because you phsyically and pursposefullly sought it out. The only reason you heard "Friday' more than one time is because you wanted to. Following the professor's logic, 'Friday' is good music.

Is Trying to Pay the Rent with My Rock Ruining my Life???

Let's get this out of the way real quick.  I'm $58 short of Paying the Rent with my Rock this month. Considering this is still a fairly new endeavor, I can live with that number.  Now my friends, lets get in the DeLorean, activate the Flux Capacitor, accelerate to 88 mph and go back in time. Back to January 1st, 2011, as we examine this month of Paying my Dues, and trying to Pay the Rent with my Rock.

Great Scott....

It's New Year's Day. I'm hungover and elated. These 2 feelings are usually distant strangers. But today I just received news that I've Paid the Rent with my Rock. Just a few hours after that headline flash, I got some more good news. A friend of a friend sent me a PayPal deposit. She had seen me play months before and wasn't able to put any money in the tip hat that night. She felt bad about it and decided to send me $50 now that she was doing better. You know who you are. Thank you so much. You Rock. If only everyday could be like this. But this is Earth, and it can't. As January pressed on, the elation fled and the hangover continued.

The second Thursday of January I bought 2 new distortion pedals.  For those of you that know me well, you can imagine my excitement.  Guitar effects pedals are to me as doughnuts are to Homer Simpson.  The mere thought of them makes me drool like a St. Bernard With Down Syndrome. This Thursday was quite possibly one of the longest working days ever, with the new gear in my trunk, anxiously awaiting to Rock.  It seemed that the clock had Down Syndrome also.

I got home around 6:30 pm and immediately got to work. I took my whole effects board apart and wired 10 pedals together. I changed the chain of order in every possible combination to see which way would sound best and allow me to use the most common distortions with ease.. Then I discovered one of my pedals had 2 outputs. This would allow me to run the same guitar through 2 distinct amplifiers, giving a sort of stadium effect. Now Pandora's Box was really open. 

For about an hour I was manically creating tones and delay patterns.  The neighbors thought there were various species of mating whales upstairs. Each new sound I would make would give me another idea for an adjustment, and I'd frantically write down the previous settings and quickly change them to the next, like some sort of mad scientist on a meth binger.  Homer Simpson Doughnut Sounds (see paragraph 3) resonate from my body in such a way that you can't tell if I'm horny or hungry. Then the phone rang.

"Hey man, its Joey G. Did you get my text? I'm hosting a NAMM  Jam tonight (see NAMM definition at footer)  . There's some pro Blue's guys playing.  Come over and play a tune with my band."

Fuck.

When you live in Southern California, these things happen often.  There's always supposed to be Somebody Who's Somebody, Somewhere.  This doesn't phase me. But as a wise drunk once told me, "Every good musician is one hook up away from being a big deal."  The pedals would have to wait.

I played with the band that night...and DIDN'T get to play with my new pedals at all until that Sunday.

A pattern like this continued all month. It seemed I was always fulfilling obligations, either rehearsing with my various groups, seeing somebody's band who has come to see one of my bands, or getting last minute calls for some sort of opportunity. Simply put, I was BUSY!

Too busy.  My lady friend was clearly disgruntled with my very existence. Or better put, with my nonexistence with respect to our relationship. 

I spoke to Grandpa again (see December's blog) and he wanted me to fly out next month for a visit.  I simply couldn't. I had gigs lined up.

On one occasion I was randomly struck with 3 incredibly clever song ideas.  I consider myself a pretty good performer, but writing songs is what I really do best.  Don't believe me? Listen to a few of them here www.reverbnation.com/posttrauma. Normally, I jump on an idea and work it out rite away. That's the best practice when writing songs; to capture the moment, the idea, and complete it at one sitting, even if it takes hours. On this day though, I didn't have time. I had gigs. I had rehearsals.  These ideas are written down, and remain song-less to this day.

All of my gigs and rehearsals were for acoustic acts. Consequently, my electric guitars were becoming more of professional acquaintances rather than steamy mistresses. My Telecaster needed a Facebook profile for us to have any interaction. 

My body was suffering too.  I tend to eat pizza whenever possible.  While gigging, this seems to be more possible than usual.  It's custom to have a shot and a beer when I play a gig too. A lot of gigs means a lot of shots and beers and pizzas.

I was exhausted. I'm still exhausted as I write this.

Amid all this neglect, there was only one aspect of my Pre-I-Must-Pay-The-Rent-With-My-Rock life that wasn't suffering: my Day Job. In fact, it seemed to be thriving.  I hadn't called in sick, didn't really show up late (by my standards) and I closed some deals.  The numbers were pretty good, better than usual.

What kind of fuckin' fucked up sense did this make? The goal of Paying the Rent with your Rock is to NOT have a day job, to NOT bow down to The Man, to NOT lead a mortal suburban existence.

Then panic struck as a revelation shadowed over my very soul. I asked myself, "Through this process of trying to Pay the Rent with My Rock,
had I............have I............fuck...............I can't say it...."

Pause...

Longer Pause...

'Have I somehow become a responsible ADULT!!!!!??????"

Anxiety. Panic. Depression.

How much can a responsible adult possibly ROCK?! And if I don't ROCK, how the FUCK am I going to Pay the RENT!!!!???

I needed to do something immature.  Quickly I took the December page off of my giant calendar and made a huge paper airplane. I stepped out to the balcony of the music room of my upstairs apartment and launched it into flight, much as I used to do as a kid. The giant paper airplane glided with ease, as if not made of paper at all.

As I watched it cruise over the parking lot and towards the liquor store, the depression and anxiety continued, and another thought overwhelmed me:

"Is trying to Pay the Rent with my Rock ruining my LIFE????!!!!!"

 No.

Its not ruining my life.

But it's noticeably changing it. 








P.S- If you have suggestions or connections to help me pay the Rent with my Rock, please, don't hesitate .  I thank you all for your support.

Footer- (NAMM: a huge musician convention that is held here in Anaheim. Actually, its a Cock Convention. A Sausage Fest if you will, of smelly metal heads making H.S.D.S.
(see paragraph 3) over gear they couldn't afford even if it were for sale, and S.B.W.D.S.(see paragraph 3) drooling  over C List music celebrities.)

I call it Paying My Dues

Some call it Law of Attraction.

Some call it The Secret.

Some call it Karma.

I call it Paying My Dues.


November ended with me needing to Rock twice as much in order to make the Rent.  The first week of December, it appeared I would Rock HALF as much.  The only gigs I had lined up were on Friday nights, and it was likely that we'd be canceled on Christmas Eve and New years Eve.  The Holidays were pretty much ruining my life, as they tend to do.

Myself, Scrooge McDuck, The Grinch, and the Abominable Snowman from the Rudolph clay-mation cartoons were planning a holiday villain's night out at Pure Platinum.

Then an opportunity came up.  The corporate office for my day job (they hate it when we call them 'corporate')  was having a holiday luncheon at a golf course.  My Boss asked if I would play some cocktail lounge music while people schmoozed each other, and then accompany Him during a medley of oldies as the finale. This was not a paying gig, and it went against a strict code I've always followed: NEVER mix The Man with my Rock. I had nothing else going for me at the time, so I took it.

The next day, my friend Freddy, an aspiring R & B singer, called me up and asked if I was busy on December 22nd.

"That's a Wednesday... I'm washing my hair.  NO I'M NOT FUCKING BUSY!"

Freddy had booked his first paying gig in hopes to Pay the Rent with his R & B and he needed accompaniment. He was playing the holiday party at an Assisted Living. Although Freddy didn't know it, this was not going to be a payday for me either.  I never accept a cut of someones first paying gig.  And I never EVER play old folks homes. Again, a strict code: NEVER mix The Man with my Rock.  However, I could not turn my back on a friend in his time of need.  I accepted the Old Folk's Gig.

The NEXT day, yet another friend of mine asked if my acoustic duo could fill in at a pub he books Thursday nights for.  He too, had no reimbursement to offer. My standards were dropping rapidly, but I thought to myself, "Hey, at least its a fucking BAR!" That's 3 free gigs.  I accepted this non-Rent-paying gig to help out another friend.

After a few rehearsals for the Luncheon of The Man, my Boss expressed some extreme surprise and enthusiasm in my ability. He asked if I would play at our company branch holiday party too.  My Boss is both very generous and very intimidating.  For both of these reasons, I rarely shoot down his requests.  That made 4 non-Rent-paying gigs in one month, since accepting money for this could feasibly be considered embezzlement. 

The NEXT day, I received not 1, not 2 but 3 calls to play gigs...FREE gigs. Bah Humbug!!!!!!!!!

This was not looking promising. Just 2 of my 4 Friday Night gigs at Branagan's.  Playing for old folks at a retirement home. FREE concerts for The Man.  FREE concerts at a bar that I know pays well. It looks like its going to be fucking cold this winter.  As the kids say... FML.. But the events of December took a radical turn as I faced the biggest conundrum one can face when trying to Pay the Rent with your Rock...

To Play for Free, or Not to Play for Free?????...............That is the Question.

I didn't respond to any more offers. I needed help. I needed advise. I needed consult from a wise man that wasn't a musician or a business man.  Someone with a fresh point of view.  I called the wisest person I know of, my grandpa, William John Ulrich II.  (I'm the IV for y'all that didn't know.)

Grandpa: "How are you Tiger?"

Me: "I'm not doing so great Grandpa.  I'm trying to Pay my Rent using only my Rock.  It's not working.  Lots of people are asking me to Rock but nobody is Paying. I feel like playing for free is better than not playing at all. But the Land Lord won't accept my Rent on potential. The Land Lord wants MONEY."

Grandpa: "If you called to borrow money you called the wrong fucking grandparents."

Me: "I didn't call to borrow money. I called to black-male you for it.  Wire me $500 by next weekend or I'm telling Grandma about where you really spent Spring Break in '56."

Grandpa: "GOD DAMN YOU UNGRATEFUL FUCKING-"

Me: "SLOW DOWN SLOW DOWN!!! I'm just playing around.  I called for advise."

Grandpa: "You ain't gonna get no good advise anymore if you make my blood pressure go up like that again. What are we talking about? Your Rock, that's rite, that damn Rock music. You should play some real music, like some jazz."

Me: "About paying the Rent with my Rock. And how nobody is Paying."

Grandpa: "Listen up. I'm only saying this once.  You're basically starting a new business. When you create a new endeavor, be it a whore house, a gambling racket or a Rock band, you're gonna work long hours for little pay.  You don't know if these things are going to pay off, that's why some people have day jobs, for security, and others get rich or get broke taking risks."

Me: "I don't want a day job and I don't want to be broke."

Grandpa: "Then you gotta work hard and be smart about it.  I know you're working hard. So be smart.  It's like taking a pretty girl on a date.  You put on a nice shirt.  You wear some good cologne. You pick her up and spend money on a decent restaurant and a shitty movie. You don't have any guarantee she's going to blow you at the end of the night, you just trust that your confidence and the lines I taught you are going to give this chick-flick a proper massage parlor happy ending."

Me: "Be smart. Work hard."

Grandpa: "And when I say be smart, be smart. Don't take out a nun to dinner and a movie. Take out a pretty girl that you like and that you think is going to like you."

Me: "Be calculated."

Grandpa: "And work hard.  You're generation wants everything instantly. In my day, we called it Paying Your Dues."


Me: "I think I understand. Thank you Grandpa. You've been helpful.  Send Grandma my love.  And don't forget to send that $500."

Things were clearer now.  This was Paying My Dues.  That's one bill that had to get paid before the Rent.

At this point I examined the gigs that I had lined up.  They didn't need to be in vain. They were booked for the rite reasons: to help out friends.  I just had to work harder to get what I wanted out of them. I took a leap of faith, if you will, that a paying gig would find me under the mistletoe and lay a fat green Benjamin Franklin paying French kiss upon my genitalia.

The first free gig came (though I didn't) and a funny thing happened. Paying gigs started falling from the sky.  The banquet coordinator at the golf course heard me singing and booked me for a wedding. Head start on March's Rent.

An affluent doctor saw my duo play at the other holiday party and booked us for his black tie event. We got to dress like James Bond, Rock out for a mere hour, eat a 5 course meal at a 5 star restaurant, get totally fucked up on expensive wine and martinis, and got paid $150.  EACH!!!! That's 30% of the Rent in ONE HOUR.

 At the non-paying-gig-at-the-bar-that-I-know-pays-well, we ended up with almost $100 in the tip jar. Split 2 ways, 10% of the Rent baby! Along with another offer to return in January.

Then yet another friend of mine called and said he had an acoustic gig lined up at a private party for $75 each.  15% of the Rent!

Calls kept coming in.  In total, I had 16 offers to play in the month of December alone.  I sifted through all the Pretty Girls and declined all of the Nuns.


On New Years Eve, I was short the Rent by $122.  Branagan's gave us the New Years Eve slot after all. The house paid us $50 and we got $25 in the tip hat.  I had missed the Rent by $47.

Then on New Years Day, my buddy Jon went into Branagan's to pick up some stuff he left behind in a drunken stupor the previous night.  The manager was there. She asked how much we got paid. Jon replied. "Hold on, I don't think so" she said as she opened the register and gave him another $100. That's $50 each.

Before I got the money order for the Rent, Jon called me with the news.  I paid my fucking Rent...with my Rock.

I even did my Laundry with my Rock with the extra $3.





P.S- If you have suggestions or connections to help me pay the Rent with my Rock, please, don't hesitate .  I thank you all for your support.

.