"When are you going to get a real job?".
I suspect this also applies to writers, artists, and other creative types. But I can't be sure. Still, I know from experience that I hear it. Let's move on. When am I going to get a proper job?
It gets me thinking, this question. I've always felt that music was not something I chose, but something that chose me. Perhaps I'm too pretentious for my own good. But it's true. I certainly didn't get into it to make a shitload of money. I didn't get into it for fame or glory. I got into it because it spoke to me, and allowed me to express myself, in an un-tangible but beautiful way. It's not a job, it's a calling.
So try this: Next time you're in a pub/club/bar/cafe and someone's playing their own songs, take the time and listen. It'll mean more to them than shouting "Sweet home Alabama/Mustang Sally/ Oasis" at them. If they have a CD, buy it. Trust me, before you know it, you'll end up with a bagful of lovely new music, and you'll have given someone some hope. If those songs eventually mean something to you, or that musician becomes a friend, it's worth it.
Real job? Keep it.
Tom.
