I think Ralph Waldo Emerson said it best when he wrote in his essay, Self Reliance, “Shakespeare will never be made by the study of Shakespeare.” You can’t re-invent the wheel, even in art. And yet, the current design of the music industry is built off of copycats copying copycats–and it’s a double-edged sword. The music executives and marketing experts group, categorize, and label music to fit a specific demographic’s taste and preference in music. While on the other side of fence, most listeners choose to stick to what they already know. Consequently, the ambitious musician plays to the ears of the music executive and to the indifferent listener, in hopes of catching both their attention by playing something they already recognize.

To think that nothing is original anymore is to disregard the individual’s genuine emotion, brought upon by his or her unique circumstance, that which fueled the need to create art and invent technologies. It also leads to people overlooking future innovators, while extravagantly idolizing past innovators. I see this happening all the time on Facebook. Listeners post music and videos of “the greats” from the past, as if the high point in music had already come and gone. And listeners who post new music for their Facebook friends to see are faced with a social network full of musical cynics and skeptics.

Where do I stand in all of this? For the past couple of years, I’ve always stuck to my guns. I stay away from playing cover songs, even though I do have a couple of them in my back pocket in case I need to play them to an unresponsive crowd. Sure, I do play the game of music categorization, since navigating the music business involves being able to describe your music in terms of someone else’s music. However, I choose to create music on my own terms, based on my own experiences and my own tastes.

The unfortunate effect of choosing not to conform to popularly accepted traditions, methods, and procedures is that one risk’s alienation from the rest of the community. It’s easy to truly be yourself when you’re alone. It’s easy to be like everyone else when you’re in a group. But it’s not easy to truly be yourself when you’re in a group. Consequently, it’s also not easy for the group to accept you when you want to truly be yourself. Obviously, groups are groups for a reason–that reason being that there’s one or more commonality that connects the individuals together. However, the problem is that, to truly be yourself and to truly develop yourself, you have to eventually break from those commonalities. You have to eventually separate from whatever is most commonly accepted as normal; while accepting the fact that you will likely cause yourself to be alienated by the group you’re currently in.

I, myself, had faced alienation for the path I chose in music concerning my decision to produce my own music. When I dove into the world of producing, mixing, and mastering, everyone else disappeared. Singer/songwriters were skeptical of anyone that was not an established producer with a studio, established producers only provided their expertise for a fee, and the cost of paying that producer was too great. Attempting to recruit band mates also faced similar problems. So when I chose to create and develop the big sound on my own, I had to learn through trial & error, never-ending research, and interpreting it all to apply to my limited resources. Eventually, I did develop my own methods that I’m satisfied with. Sure, there’s always room for improvement, but regardless, I enjoy the path that I took, since I’m free to do it however I want.

When you’re in an established studio, you’re limited on time since you’re paying by the hour. Creativity suffers due to limited time and money. When you’re learning how to do this in a school setting, you’re limited to your teacher’s syllabus. Creativity suffers due to a need to follow a specific lesson plan. True artists know that creativity is not derived from books and is not proportional to how much time and money one has. Yet, many artists consider it a requirement to traverse those routes. Sometimes all the artist needs is trust in his or her own abilities and confidence in his or her own potential. Sometimes the artist needs not to be so self-conscious of his or her lack of experience.

For example, I met a jazz singer last month who said she had been wanting to write her own songs, but felt that she needed to read more. I think a lack of knowledge or experience should not hamper one’s desire to write. All one needs is thought. If one can think, then one can write. I myself don’t declare to be a master songwriter. I only declare to choose to write songs. Over time of course, the content and arrangement in my songs develop as I grow and experience more. It’s counterproductive to choose not to act on account of a lack of confidence in one’s own ability. For it is really the act of simply doing it that contributes to the development of that ability.

(to be continued in a follow-up blog post)
 

© 2012, LawrenceGenova. All rights reserved.

When I think about those times–the many drunken nights, the close calls from getting arrested and even possibly killed, and the dumbest & ballsiest things that I’ve done–I think that even though life has been utter chaos, I would’ve never truly learned or experienced anything if it were otherwise. It makes me think about this guy I knew who was an awesome guitar player. Sure, he was several years younger than me, but I was always the one in awe of his Jimi Hendrix-style guitar skills. But then, he had the hardest time writing songs, which was a big problem for him, since he really wanted to write deep & meaningful music. He was also the designated songwriter for his band. Fortunately, he knew exactly why he had trouble with it. It wasn’t because he wasn’t good with words; it was because he didn’t have much life or worldly experiences to talk about.

Towards the end of last year 2011, I never really traveled much or did much, other than staying indoors producing music. I was pretty much a hermit. But it’s made me realize that apart of me has always yearned for adventure. You see, I had never really considered myself the adventurous type or a risk-taker. A lot of what I had done was usually preceded with reluctance or what I call “a drunken necessity”. For example, when a buddy of mine wanted me to go bungee-jumping at a System of a Down/Nine Inch Nails concert in Oberhausen, Germany, I only went with him because he did it. I probably would’ve never initiated it myself. Or when I went outside of a bar (to be unnamed) to go piss on the street and they locked me out since it was after last-call (although my friends were still inside), I shut off power to their part of the building because I knew that it would make them open their front door–which it did. Therefore, having lacked much adventure in recent times, I became unsettled; and I never really knew why till now.

Basically, I’m overdue for some adventure. And although I’ve had a lot of crazy experiences and stories to tell from years past, I plan to keep gaining more. I also want to begin sharing them more often through this blog and through my music–which are now available to download for free via my website.

It makes me think of these shot glasses I used to collect. Every time I’d visit a city, especially a major one, I’d make a point to stop by the gift shop and buy a shot glass as my souvenir. Stories, experiences, and music are very much like these shot glasses, in that, it’s rewarding to collect a lot of them, but worthless if you don’t share them with anyone.
 

© 2012, LawrenceGenova. All rights reserved.

 
I completed my debut album Aviano.  It was a project that me and a sound engineer/drummer worked on.  It helped me gain experience on being in the studio.  It also helped pave the way for me to start mixing and mastering my own tracks and develop my own style as a producer.

 
I did a couple of radio interviews, met a lot of cool people, met a lot of awesome musicians, and even got to jam out with a few of them.  Yes, it sounds like a lot of good things happened, but 2011 wasn’t all roses and daisies for me.

Back in the fall of 2009, I formed a band with my old Air Force buddies called My Own Personal Hell (M.O.P.H.–pronouced “mauf”).  It was a short-lived effort that ended by the following summer.  We never officially ended the band; nor announced it–it kind of just happened.  We were still friends and hung out every once in a while.  But by 2011, we weren’t as close as we used to be.  Basically, one of the members moved away, while the other two, I don’t really talk to anymore. Sure, I did have my album to work on.  And the friendship I started to form with my sound engineer working on the Aviano album had helped me move on from M.O.P.H.  We had a lot in common with musical influences, we could talk for hours on end about music and life in general, and had plans to continue working together on other projects after I released the album, such as producing music for other local artists and bands.  Unfortunately due to financial problems, he too had to move away.

I did make attempts to work with other sound engineers and also form up other bands, but it all fell through.  It just wasn’t the same anymore.  Putting on shows wasn’t the same anymore either.  It all started to feel too much like work.  Booking the show, prepping for it, practicing for it, promoting it, setting up, performing at it, and doing it over and over again.  Sure, all this music stuff is supposed to take a lot of work, but  somewhere along the line, it also stopped being fun.  I used to always tell myself, “Despite all the work involved in putting on a show, once I get on stage to perform and ‘feel’ the music, it made it all worth it.”  But I guess I didn’t feel it anymore.  That’s why I had to take a break from performing for a while.  I couldn’t let myself continue doing it if I wasn’t enjoying it.  That kind of stuff can only hurt a performance.

I eventually locked myself up in the Bravo Sector and began working on and releasing newer songs.  I isolated myself from the music scene in the Bay Area and went through a lot of hard times, dealt with my own demons, lost my identity, and questioned whether it was all still worth it.

 
Growing up, I was taught the concept of wants versus needs.  Over time, I was able to differentiate between the two.  I was also taught that one should prioritize what you need over what you want.  This made sense to me at the time.  Pursuing only what you need should lead to a life of modesty and benevolence, which you’d figure, would only lead to happiness.  But in reality, life is not as simple as that.

The problem with pursuing only what you need is that other people will still pursue what they want.  And if people pursue what they want and what they happen to want is everything, then that leaves you with nothing at all.  2011 was the year we saw the Occupy Wall Street protests take shape.  It was  a movement protesting against corporate greed and corruption.  Basically, people got tired of the 1% always getting what they wanted, while leaving nothing else for the rest of the 99%.  The people were losing their wants and their needs (e.g. jobs, homes, quality education).  On the other hand, it wasn’t totally one-sided.  There were also people that pursued their wants who couldn’t afford it in the first place.  There were protesters that simply wanted what the 1% had, without regard for their welfare because of how angry the protesters were at them.  As I once said (and I thought I tweeted this, but I couldn’t find it), “It’s hard to pursue your dreams, when the people that paved the way and are already successful are preventing you from achieving them.”

The bottom line is that people have wants and needs and that’s never going to change.  And what each individual person considers a want or a need is totally subjective, especially when it concerns happiness.  So up until this year 2011, I had always thought that the better and more virtuous man would only pursue what he needed.  But the idea fell apart when I started to use the term “I need” for everything.  I need to go to the gym to get back in shape, I need to produce my own music, or I need to pursue happiness.  I realized this: why should I need to do those things?  Shouldn’t I want to do those things?

While working out in the gym just last night, I realized why I was always saying “I need”.  I realized that there were two sides of me.  The one side wanted to go to the gym, to produce music, and to just be happy.  The other side of me was more about bitterness and anger.  It questioned everything.

Why I should even have to go to the gym?  While there are people that can eat tons of junk food and still run ten miles, why do I have to stay on a diet.  Why am I producing my own music?  What’s the point if no one is really listening?  Why should I be happy?

The reason why I had to tell myself that I needed to do those things was because part of me–the bitter and angry side of me–felt that I shouldn’t have to.  Let me put it this way–imagine two people on a team trying to achieve a goal.  One person is willing to do what needs to get done to achieve the goal, while the other person isn’t as cooperative.  Therefore, you’re stuck with the challenge of persuading that other person to cooperate by telling him things like, “this needs to get done” or “it’s a necessity.”

I shouldn’t have to fight with myself to get myself to do something.  I should want to do it.  I should want things.  There’s nothing wrong with wanting things or wanting to do things.  Yes, everything has their limits.  But when it came down to it, if I made myself believe that these things were necessities, how would I ever know what I really wanted?  Like I said before, needs and wants depends on each individual person.  However, the one thing I think we can all agree on is that our wants are really the things that make us happy; not our needs.  Our needs just keep us alive. Once again, it’s all subjective.

So at the very least, it’s a combination of those two things that give us our own unique identities.  Therefore, you can’t have one without the other.  I’ve already tried that.  I made myself think that everything I pursued was only the things that I needed and I justified it with reasons external to me.  For example, I justified going to the gym with “I needed to stay in shape to protect my family in case of life-threatening situations.”  I justified producing my own music with “I needed for everyone to know that I’m a lot more capable as a musician than just a singer/songwriter.”  But I realized that I should be doing things for myself too.  I actually do like going to the gym and staying in shape.  I like producing music, since it’s challenging and rewarding at the same time.  While it’s great to give consideration to other people, it’s still good to do things for yourself every once in a while.

With that being said, I see now that I’ve been missing out on one of the other things I enjoy: performing my music.  I realize that I don’t need to do it; I just want to do it.  Sometimes you don’t need any more justification than that.  So yeah, I want to perform for the listeners.  I want to entertain the audience.  Sure, I do it for them, but for the sake of the point I’m trying to make, I should also be doing it for myself.  I plan to start back up in 2012, while still continuing to produce music.  How I plan to accomplish those things is not important.  Where it may lead me to is irrelevant.  The only thing that matters is that I simply enjoy myself.  That’s pretty much my New Year’s resolution: To enjoy life.

© 2011 – 2012, LawrenceGenova. All rights reserved.

© 2011 – 2012, LawrenceGenova. All rights reserved.

I had gotten a taste of producing music when I began working on my debut album, Aviano, in August of 2010. I completed and released it about eleven months later. I had a lot of help and guidance from sound engineer/drummer Mark Tarlton with that project and had hoped to continue working on more songs with him, as well as helping out other artists produce their tracks. However, due to financial constraints, we had to part ways. Fortunately, he prepared me for the difficult road ahead by giving me the skills I needed to begin mixing and mastering tracks on my own.

So not long after I released Aviano, I began working in the Bravo Sector; experimenting and developing my own unique style as a producer, while still maintaining and improving my abilities as a singer and songwriter. It hasn’t been easy and there have been many challenges along the way, but I’ve always been able to reach my fullest potential whenever times were tough.

I’m eventually going perform the new songs live to give you guys much more of an unforgettable experience. The difficulty with that, of course, is finding fellow musicians willing to join me in accomplishing this, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.

As for my acoustic performances, I don’t plan on giving that up–I just had to tone it down a notch. It’s just that I had done it so often in the past couple years, I ended up plateauing and burning myself out, which is partly what led me to the Bravo Sector. So for now, I’ll be here developing my newfound skills as a producer, training myself for the challenges yet to come, and hopefully coming back stronger than ever before.

And if you’re just joining me on this journey, this is pretty much a short and sweet summary of who I am. Feel free to listen to my newest songs, post comments on my Facebook Page to let me know what you think, and join my mailing list to talk to me directly and privately.

One last thing: if you’re wondering where the acoustic songs are, I’ve put them all on my website’s Music Page.  If that was more your taste than the Bravo Sector stuff and you want me to put a new song up on my Facebook Page, then by all means, let me know and I’ll get it done.

© 2011 – 2012, LawrenceGenova. All rights reserved.

© 2011 – 2012, LawrenceGenova. All rights reserved.

© 2011 – 2012, LawrenceGenova. All rights reserved.

© 2011 – 2012, LawrenceGenova. All rights reserved.

© 2011 – 2012, LawrenceGenova. All rights reserved.

© 2011 – 2012, LawrenceGenova. All rights reserved.