New Record Out:
So the new record came out yesterday (November 25th, 2006) to a very awesome record release show crowd.  A lot of my friends came out, a lot of good vibes were there, a lot of positive feedback, and it just made the whole "record coming out" feeling more complete.  It's good to know that people like something it took me three months to create.  Naturally everyone there didn't buy a copy that night (money is always an issue, especially with the crowd around my age, which I totally understand and sympathize with since I am perpetually broke), but I did sell a few and a lot more people have said that they will get one as soon as they can.  So that's a nice feeling.  I played until my fingers wouldn't bend, there was sweat pouring down my face and into my eye sockets (which is not a comfortable situation), I did the longest set I've ever done, and it was a wonderful evening.  Lights, Camera, Attraction was brought into the world in proper fashion.  If anyone is interested in picking up a copy, either find me in person or send me a message on here and we'll work something out.  It's only five bucks.

I'm in the Wrong Business
Now even though the record release show was spectacular in my opinion, there was something that bothered me as I got ready to sell this new record; why is it that visual artists (painters and whatnot) get to sell one work of art for hundreds of dollars whereas I've had to sell my past two CDs for five bucks because I was told that "ten was just too much."  The argument that has been presented to me is that CDs are a copy of the actual work of art, but my rebuttal to that is that when artists sell prints of their paintings, the copies go for like fifty bucks!  I don't want to piss off my artist-friends because they are very talented people, I just don't understand.  Music is (in most avenues at least) an original work of art, so why isn't it appreciated as such?  I've seen some paintings that looked like someone just threw paint at the canvas, named it something like Frustration, and sold it for an easy 100 or 150 cold hard cash.  Now I know that not all paintings come along like that and take a very long and arduous process to create (which I have the utmost respect for because I absolutely suck at drawing, painting, or anything else in that vein), but seriously, even painters can admit that some art is overrated (much like some MUSIC is overrated, but that's a topic for a whole separate blog).  I just don't get the price difference.  Is it because there aren't any members of the upper crust of society walking around gritty basement venues with their monacles on stroking their moustaches and saying, "Now there's something worth shelling out five-hundred dollars for"?  Perhaps.  Who knows?  Certainly not I.  All I know is that it is very frustrating for me to sell something that took so long to create and was such a painstaking process, something that basically opens myself up and allows perfect strangers to see and hear my innermost thoughts and feelings and struggles, and sell it for five bucks along with like a button or something.  Meanwhile, I go over to the art exhibit and see things that, no matter what angle I tilt my head, do not make any damn sense whatsoever, and their price tags are outlandish.  Them's the breaks I guess.

What's the Point?
This is pretty much a continuance of the last little blurb.  Lately (as is tradition for this to happen at sporadic frequency throughout my life) I've been wondering if there really is any point to all of this music stuff.  For a while there I was really gung-ho about it, thinking that this is what I want to do and I'll just do it because this is what I love to do.  But that's not very realistic is it?  My only real ambition was to tour and hopefully someday get scooped up by a small indie label, but the tour fell through and so far no labels have responded to me (except a couple that either said "We'll consider it" or "Our roster is full" or my personal favorite, a simple "No").  I didn't think those aspirations were TOO lofty, but I guess I was wrong.  Maybe it is time for me to stop lying to myself, put down all the instruments, and just resign myself to some mundane job that allows me to rent some small apartment and basically just exist.  Sometimes (a lot of the time, actually) I just don't know what I'm doing all of this for.  A few people always say, "If it's what you love then THAT'S why you're doing it, dumbass" but passion apparently isn't enough these days.  It certainly doesn't "pay the bills," that much is for sure.  And where do I think this is going to get me?  *sigh*  Self-doubt has always been something that comes so very naturally for me.  The basic question that I've been asking myself these past few days is "WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING?"  Where am I going with this?  Is there really a point?  Do I really think I'll accomplish any fucking thing with this music?  Am I just some pretentious indie rock bastard who managed to convince himself in one rare glimmer of self-confidence that he had something to offer the musical world? UGH.  I'm done.  Time to go mull all this over some more.  Fuck.  The end.