The Intoxicating Allure of Flamingos – Dave

If you are unaware of the degree to which our world is currently undergoing a musical revolution, one snapshot of my email inbox could easily convince you of the fact. Amidst grammar-plagued bank transfer requests from Nigerian princes and pharmaceutical promises of a better sex life, you will find a host of emails from music-related websites. Almost all of these music websites feature articles discussing how to better connect with your fan base, why the old music business is dying, and 51 ways to write a better band bio.

I can’t recall an article specifically devoted to asking: “What is success?”, but the evolution of the industry is forcing artists to examine that question.

The Classic Model of Musical Success:
1. We “get discovered”. A famous producer recognizes our genius and signs us to a record deal. The record company pays for the recording of our album in a studio (taking money from the sales of our album to recoup their investment).
2. Money flows in from all directions because the world can’t get enough of our music. The band buys a flamingo because this is first time we’ve ever had money, and hey, it’s a flamingo.
3. We tour constantly, selling out arenas and becoming increasingly rich and famous.
4. We learn that it is illegal to keep flamingos as pets. As police begin arresting the entourage, our drummer attempts a getaway by tying his flock of flamingos to a lawn chair. An ambulance is summoned shortly and all parties agree the incident never happened.
5. We hire a new drummer while the previous one’s bones knit.
6. Adoring fans become stalkers. We hire bodyguards.
7. Someone rewires the hot tub on the tour bus.
8. Angela Lansbury shows up to investigate an unfortunate hot tub “accident” (turns out it was Carlos, a former electrician and aspiring guitarist who became enraged when our guitarist stole a melodic riff from Carlos’ flamenco performance at a coffee shop in Boca Raton)
9. Someone in the band releases an unauthorized autobiography
10. Someone else in the band reads the autobiography
11. The band breaks up
12. We reunite for the Hall of Fame induction, and whenever we need money to buy exotic birds.

Seems pretty straightforward, right? There may be a few variations along the way, but 90% of the time, that was how it went down.

Today’s Model of Musical Success:
1. Go viral online with an acoustic guitar and a love song cover? Audition for American Idol and be really good or reeeeeeaaaaaallllllly bad? Go the traditional route of playing lots of shows and building a following? Wear a dress made out of meat and shock the world?
Your guess is as good as anyone’s (but for goodness sake, don’t forget to be sexy).

There are an infinite number of ways to diagram the new model, but almost none of them start with getting signed by a major record label. Record labels are in trouble because they no longer have a stranglehold on production and distribution of music. Sufficiently motivated and talented artists can create and release their own music to the entire world with a few clicks of a mouse and a LOT of hard work.

The changes in the industry are fascinating, but perhaps we need to examine the motivations for success to better understand the models that create it.

John 1:37-38 – “The two disciples heard him speak, and they followed Jesus. Jesus turned and saw them following, and said to them “What do you seek?””

What do I seek?
What is success?

For me, this question is played out every day in the soulless artistic graveyards of our generation: CD bargain bins.
I love a good deal, but when I flip through faceless CDs in the bargain bin at a retail store, my heart grows heavy. What some see as random collections of has-been artists who aren’t “good” enough to command full price, I see as a place where Dreams Go to Die.

That nose flute album of traditional lullabies by the Scottish boy? In order for his CD to arrive in this bargain bin, the boy had to practice his nose flute (which is not an altogether pleasant experience, I’d imagine), go to a studio to record his carefully selected lullabies, create artwork for the project, mass produce the CD, have discs physically shipped to retail locations around the world, and market the snot out of it (ha!). This huge amount of effort was all sustained by the power of his dream. And in the bargain bin his dream has met with the worst possible reception: apathy.

Artists crave relevance. If our art isn’t relevant, then how does its existence matter? Connecting with people is the whole point.

What do I seek?
What is success?

I haven’t got it all sorted, but I think a lot of it comes down to what fuels your dream: Why does relevance matter to me? Is it because my ego survives on crumbs from the approval of others? Is it because I want to be engaged in pursuits that effect people on meaningful levels?

I wonder what God’s Model of Musical Success looks like? I suspect something like this:

1. Ask.
2. Trust Me.
3. Create fearlessly.
4. Ask.
5. Trust Me.

Here are the lyrics to a song called “You Are My Passion” (by Jesus Culture):

I’m alive to bring glory to You, King
God of victory, You are my passion
It’s in the way You are, You don’t change at all
Great and humble God, You are my passion

My strength in life is I am Yours
My soul delights because I am Yours
Your will on earth is all I’m living for

Jesus, I glorify
Jesus, my love is Yours
You are my heart’s desire
I live to know You more

Light that breaks the darkness, showing what true love is
Always full of goodness, You are my passion
You never do me wrong, the meekest man, but strong
The most perfect song, You are my passion

My favorite line in this song is: “My strength in life is I am Yours”.
It’s such a simple thought, but so profound….and completely life changing if I were to own it as truth.

Could it be that God doesn’t worry about whether my best efforts end up in the CD bargain bin? Or if I face the Shrugging Dragon of Apathy from people I long to impress?
My heart says God’s not too concerned about my ego.

What do I seek? For God to use me.

And God is well capable of using the CD bargain bin.

So maybe success hasn’t got anything to do with how my music is received. Maybe it has to do with how and why it is created in the first place.

1. Ask.
2. Trust Me.
3. Create Fearlessly.
4. Ask.
5. Trust Me. Don’t worry about the bargain bin.
6. Here, have a flamingo. Or not. It doesn’t matter, just don’t tie him to a lawn chair.

Confessions of an 8th place rocker – Dave

This Saturday we drove down to Somerset to compete in the Lake Cumberland Clear Channel Battle of the Bands (I’ll call it botb from here on out). It was a battle unlike any we’ve been a part of in the past. There were 22 bands in the first round, from which the judges selected 12 finalists to compete on Sunday. The main difference between this botb and others we’ve played was that there was only one category, regardless of style. Bluegrass competed with Hip Hop and Polka.

We quickly discovered that TMD’s place in the tonal spectrum of music was much closer to Kenny G’s Christmas album than it was to the majority of our competitors.  They like their hard rock down in Somerset.

It was cool to hear the different bands in their chosen form of self-expression (mostly Aeolian and Phrygian). I sometimes wonder what it is about heavy music that draws people in. Whether you enjoy the chug of Drop C power chords or not, there is no denying its appeal (personally, it makes me want to hunt large-toothed reptiles with a club).

Confession #1: When I was in college, I experienced the joy of Unrequited Like for the first time. It was the old Boy Meets Girl Who Doesn’t Care That Boy Likes Girl And Wishes Boy Would Just Go Away story.
My elusive Aphrodite drove me into the waiting arms of Metallica.
While I could not find words to express how I felt from my fetal position on the floor, James Hetfield could (“so I dub thee unforgiven!!!!!!!!!! Yeah-heeeeah!”).

Over the next month I wore out my Metallica albums as I walked around campus, sitting by myself in the cafeteria, and riding the elliptical machine (just kidding. It was the Nordic track cross country thing. As downward spirals go, mine was pretty healthy). Eventually my sister approached me and said “Lots of people are asking me why you are walking around with headphones all the time. Just so you know, you are acting weird.”

And thus I bottomed out.  I had ridden the lightning as far as I wanted to go. I still listened to Metallica, but not so much for life wisdom as for the rush of adrenaline (and because it annoyed a few people who I enjoyed annoying).
Over time, James Hetfield and I grew apart and went our separate ways. He went on to release a horribly overcompressed album called St. Anger and I went on to create my own music that isn’t typically angry.

Back to the BOTB. We played well on Saturday and had a lot of fun, and were fortunate enough to make the finals. Along the way, we met some super cool people like Sarah and Carmen (I’m pretty sure I just gave a shout out, yo), and enjoyed hearing lots and lots of bands rocking harder than I ever have.

As the night progressed, I learned some valuable insights about how I might want to conduct myself in the future. Particularly in respect to my hair.

Confession #2: I’m thinking of growing my hair out. Like, shoulder length long. Mainly because I’ve had the same haircut since as long as I can remember, and it seems like it would stretch myself to actually have hair that required shampooing.
Also, I must admit that it already feels wicked sweet when my lengthy luscious locks ripple across my scalp as I shake my head back and forth (well there goes my street cred. Dang it, how am I EVER going to be a rocker?).

Saturday night highlighted the importance of having a plan for growing my hair out. There were all sorts of lengthy hairstyles on display, from Lord of the Rings broadsword-wielding manliness all the way to an unkempt Einstein fro. It was easy to tell who cared about their hair.

Here is the root of my dilemma: I have a spotty record when it comes to caring about how I look.  Particularly hair that requires combing in front of a full-length mirror with 100 downward strokes each evening.
I want Aragorn’s “let’s ride horses, battle orcs, and inspire legions of men” hair.
Can I achieve that without daily effort? I guess we are going to find out.
Or I’m going to get annoyed and just cut it back to the same haircut I’ve always had (“let’s swim with horsefish, play in orchestras — get it? ORChestras? Ha! –, and serve delicious lattes to legions of satisfied customers” hair).

On Sunday, we played our slightly longer Finals set (which included one of the only acoustic guitars I heard in the whole weekend). It went reasonably well, but I was having a pretty rough vocal day thanks to a cold I brought with me. I knew we hadn’t won the BOTB, but I was cool with that. We still had loads of time to meet people and hang out.

Finally, six hours later, the judges made their decisions and all the people in the land gathered to hear pronouncements of victory or defeat. Here, this battle once again differed from my past experiences because they awarded a plaque or trophy for each place, from 12^th all the way to 1^st.

The judges also selected individual musicians for honors….and we were delighted to discover that our very own Collin Berner was crowned DRUMMER OF THE YEAR!

When they announced band placements, awards were given in reverse order from 12^th up. We won 8^th place.

That’s a pretty interesting number. No one enters a BOTB hoping to come in 8^th.

Confession #3: As mentioned previously, I’ve participated in multiple BOTBs in the past five years. We won a couple, we lost many more. But usually we don’t know how much we lose by since there is only one winner (an occasionally a runner up). In the past, if we didn’t win, I could easily imagine a narrow margin of victory between the winner and us. This is not the case when they hand you a plaque for 8^th place.

My mentor challenged me recently with the idea that “music only has value in as much as God uses it.” For a Christian songwriter, this is not an easy thought to process. Very quickly we can descend into debates about the virtue of art for art’s sake, and the sacredness of the creative process, etc.  Not to mention discussing what exactly it means for “God to use music”.

While these are interesting questions, I think the heartbeat of the idea is for me to ask myself how I am choosing to value music. Is music my identity? Is playing drums at a big church who I am? Is singing and playing songs I’ve written who I am? What is the value of music in my life?

In that same conversation, my mentor said “Don’t confuse the things you are good at with what you were made for.”

What value does music have to me?
God made me a musician.
But what am I made FOR?

On Sunday night, I stood there with an 8^th place plaque in my hands and told my bandmates “I don’t want this. I don’t know what I’m going to do with it. If none of you take it, I’m throwing it away”. They looked surprised, refused to take it, and told me to keep it overnight (at least until we left the venue, for heaven’s sake. What kind of jerk throws away a BOTB award plaque AT the BOTB?). I followed their advice and we drove home with the plaque in the trailer.

On Monday morning I was still processing the weekend experience. Around noon or so (feeding my daughter has become a great time of praying and talking to God), the pieces finally clicked. God asked me: “Dave, are you OK with getting 8^th place in a battle of the bands? Because it doesn’t matter what place you come in. I don’t care what place you came in. That isn’t why you were there.”

That 8^th place plaque needs to be hung in a place of honor where I can see it every day. It reminds me what I’m supposed to be about: showing people God’s love and telling them what Jesus has done in my life. Being used by God to bring heaven to earth. Caring more about other people than myself.

That’s what I’m made for. 8^th place.

I should probably say something about music too — Dave

I just finished writing about Facebook for an hour. Very cathartic. But since this is a band blog, I should probably take this opportunity to give you an update on our album progress. Currently I’m editing the bass and lead guitar parts for La Resistance, a guitar-driven song that romps through a few tempo changes (and even boasts a modulation!) and stream-of-conscious style lyrics. It’s one of my favorites, and a unique challenge for me since I play piano on it.

We’re trying to decide whether to go with an actual acoustic piano (which would require recording a great sounding piano that is tuned very well) or with MIDI piano sounds (which are all taken from great sounding pianos that are tuned very well) for my part. At this point I’m leaning towards using an acoustic one just for the challenge of it. We’ll see how it goes. I wonder if you will be able to tell which we used when we release the song?

One of my favorite things about recording is when we get to pull out all the guitars we own/borrow and choose which guitar sounds best on a particular part. Yesterday, I’m proud to say that we finally used the first electric guitar I ever bought (a Washburn Idol) for a section of La Resistance. I recently took a woodburning tool to this guitar and transformed it into what I affectionately refer to as “the Monster”. I also swapped out the pickups and electronics in the hopes of breathing new life into an instrument that I hadn’t played in years. I’m super pumped that the Monster lives again:)

Whenever I write a song, I always make an effort to include something in the song that is new to me. It could be a guitar technique, a lyrical pattern, a weird chord progression….anything, really, as long as it is new to me. With this album I’m trying to bring that approach into the production side of the process. I’m challenging myself to think outside the box and take some sonic risks that I haven’t before. I’m hoping to record the tracks on the album in a variety of techniques, including tracking multiple instruments in one go…to capture the sound of two acoustic guitars playing together with vocals bleeding into the guitar mics, but making the listener feel like they are in the room with us. Newer, rawer, sounds.

And if that doesn’t work I can always go back to tracking one instrument at a time.

But let’s give it a go. I hope you like it.

- dave

Longest Status Update. Ever. — Dave

I don’t understand Facebook. Or at least what most people are choosing to share on it. I recently watched an interview with Mark Zuckerberg where he talked about the massive number of people in the world who are now connected to FB. He has a clear vision for his company and a mission statement (“to give people the power to share and make the world more open and connected”) in which they are definitely succeeding.

I get all that. It’s cool. Thanks to FB, I’ve connected with people across the planet who in other circumstance I would likely never see or have any contact with again.

What I don’t understand is the underlying motivation behind what many people want to make public on their status updates. Why do we want to share details of our daily lives with an unseen army of acquaintances (and perhaps a few friends, who, if they are actually interested, will probably talk to us on the phone or even see us face to face later)?
And why do we want others to revel in all our thoughts or moments? I’m talking about updates like “Going to the grocery store. Hope they have dish soap this time” or “What a workout!”

“Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them” – Henry David Thoreau

Is broadcasting the details of our daily existence a way of shouting into the world that our lives matter? The value and relevance of our opinions and experiences are weighed by how many comments and “Likes” we receive.
Are we so desperate for validation and approval? Why?

Or maybe I’m missing the picture. Perhaps FB is just an innocent flurry of texts-on-the-fly, witty pictures, and trendy causes. I know it’s definitely a great way for a band to keep its fans up to date about current events in the life of the group.

I don’t know if anyone else thinks about this. I’ve tried discussing these ideas, but haven’t really caught an enthused response.
I suppose it’s ironic that I’m blogging about it.

If you are my FB friend, you might notice that I don’t update my status very often. This is because I question the content and motivation of my own entries too.

One of my favorite speakers is a man named Reed Arvin. He is an accomplished musician, producer, and author who also also enjoys exploring the creative process and examining the struggles faced by every artist. I remember him saying in one of his speeches that “The greatest temptation you will ever have on stage will NOT be to act like a completely different person. The greatest temptation will be to present yourself as slightly different than who you really are. To act like a “better”, more palatable version of you. A person who (in the Christian music industry) says “God bless you guys” from stage when he NEVER says that under any other circumstances in real life.”

In that speech he was talking about performing on a stage, but I believe it applies to more than just a spotlight situation. Am I trying to present myself as a different person on FB? If so, why?

This graphic is a pretty extreme example, but you get the idea.

Anyways, I don’t know if this post has made a ripple in the universe, but somehow I feel better having written it. I suppose in the end a blog is just an extended status update. If so, I’ll do my best to be who I really am. God bless you guys:)

- dave

Do You Believe the World is Flat? — Collin

It is possible to assume or think or even know that the world isn’t flat while at the same time believing it in our hearts. Ask yourself this question: “Do you believe the world is flat?”

I decided to read through the Chronicles of Narnia for the first time since I read it for an assignment in middle school way back in the nineties, and I got started about a month or so ago. When I was reading Prince Caspian, there were two consecutive chapters that forced me to ask myself that question.

If you don’t know the story, I highly recommend you read the whole thing. The story up to this point is that siblings Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy were transported to the land of Narnia via a magic wardrobe. Edmund betrayed his family and in so doing gave ownership of his life to the White Witch. The great Lion, Aslan, who breathed life into Narnia, offered his life up as payment for Edmund’s debt. Edmund was set free. Aslan was killed, but then returned to life and conquered the White Witch. Years later, they found themselves magically transported back to Narnia again, summoned by a magic horn to aid Prince Caspian in taking back Narnia from the Tellmarines. They lose their way, and all along, Lucy, the youngest, swears she can see Aslan trying to guide them, but none of the others believe her, which is where I pick up.

(If you have read the series, this blog entry does not refer to the round world/flat world conversation between Edmund and Caspian in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader – that is a literal discussion about the physical shape of the world.)

From Prince Caspian:
“A circle of grass, smooth as a lawn, met her eyes, with dark trees dancing all round it. And then – oh joy! For he was there: the huge Lion, shining white in the moonlight, with his huge black shadow underneath him.

“But for the movement of his tail he might have been a stone lion, but Lucy never thought of that. She never stopped to think whether he was a friendly lion or not. She rushed to him. She felt her heart would burst if she lost a moment. And the next thing she knew was that she was kissing him and putting her arms as far round his neck as she could and burying her face in the beautiful rich silkiness of his mane.

“‘Aslan, Aslan. Dear Aslan,’ sobbed Lucy. ‘At last.’”

What a gorgeous picture. I must have re-read it about 10 times, nearly breathless every time. I think I found out why it hit me so hard a few pages later.

“‘I can’t see anything,’ said Peter after he had stared his eyes sore. ‘Can you, Susan?’

“‘No, of course I can’t,’ snapped Susan. ‘Because there isn’t anything to see. She’s been dreaming. Do lie down and go to sleep, Lucy.’”

We teachers have the wonderful benefit of a Summer Break, but that means that when we get in the thick of things and get mired down in the everyday, it’s even easier to stop looking and just chalk it up to “There isn’t anything to see.” It is so easy to keep looking down at the ground. To think that everything is exactly as it appears. To believe that our worlds really are flat. Sure, we might say we believe in something, but does it affect our perspective? Have we let our worlds define us? Being honest, I find myself acting like Peter and Susan more often than I do acting like Lucy. At the faintest hint of Aslan’s presence, Lucy is completely sure he is there. She never doubts for a second.

After Lucy and Edmund convince the other two to follow without seeing…
“‘Lucy,’ said Susan in a very small voice.

“‘Yes?’ said Lucy.

“‘I see him now. I’m sorry.’

“‘That’s all right.’

“‘But I’ve been far worse than you know. I really believed it was him – he, I mean – yesterday. When he warned us not to go down to the fir wood. And I really believed it was him tonight, when you woke us up. I mean, deep down inside. Or I could have, if I’d let myself. But I just wanted to get out of the woods and – and – oh, I don’t know. And whatever am I to say to him?’

“‘Perhaps you won’t need to say much,’ suggested Lucy. . .

“After an awful pause, the deep voice said, ‘Susan.’ Susan made no answer but the others thought she was crying. ‘You have listened to fears, child,’ said Aslan. ‘Come, let me breathe on you. Forget them. Are you brave again?’”

What keeps you from seeing beyond a flat, day-to-day, surface world? To what fears have you listened? To what fears have I listened? Trivial things like making sure everything’s ready for work tomorrow? Worrying about what your schedule will look like this weekend? Do you and I keep putting off the important questions because of little fears, or is it something deeper, like “I’ve been far worse than you know. . . whatever am I to say to him?”

If it is that, perhaps you won’t need to say much. Your fears? Forget them. The White Witch demanded blood, but Aslan demanded nothing for Susan’s debt. Neither does our God. The debts have already been paid. Don’t stop to think whether or not He’s a friendly God. You can run to Him no matter what you’ve done or how long it’s been. You can trust me on this one; I have been in that situation many times.

Don’t let your fears force you into believing the world is flat. No matter what busyness or guilt you have that tells you to do otherwise, look up. You may have an “at last” moment of your own.

– Collin (the Berninator)

Get off the train as soon as possible — Dave

If you are ever in a restaurant or staying at a hotel that Poirot (the inscrutable French detective from Agatha Christie’s novels and PBS’ Masterpiece Mystery) enters, leave the premises ASAP. Murder follows that guy everywhere. It’s kind of ridiculous.
- dave

A blog is born — Dave

If you found this blog because you enjoy the music of Too Many Drummers and would like to get to know us a little better, thanks for your support/interest and I’m thrilled that you’ve here. I hope you continue to enjoy our artistic development as we boldly venture into uncharted (for us) musical territory. Since our last album we’ve undergone a transition towards becoming more of a rock band. To accomplish this we were forced to choose between getting tattoos or writing songs that sounded like we had. Collin’s afraid of needles so it was an easy decision.

- dave