Not really though.
When I was 15 years old I started a band with my two best friends. We called ourselves "Clemens the Great." Two guitars and drums, no bass. I played guitar and sang with my friend Nate. My friend Dave played drums.
We played our first show at a "Teen Center" in our small town in Jersey. They used to throw these Teen Center's every Friday night. They would serve pizza! And soda! And you could play basketball! I don't need to tell you anymore to impart the fact that these Teen Centers were amaaaaaaaaaaazing. Haha.
Anyway, they let us come through and play. And we did our thing, and it was great. My first show ever, nahmean?
The point is -- the Teen Centers were run by a young-ish woman, who's name I do not recall. Her husband was in a band too. And after we did our thing, his band played. And it was terrible. All the kids left, and they ended up playing to an empty auditorium, save for Nate, Dave, and I. Despite the fact that there was no one left to watch them they still played what I assume was their full set.
Now, the fact that their songs were terrible (think of a band going for Nickelback with more of an edge, haha) is beyond the point. These guys became a running joke to us for years -- the old, loser band dudes who soldier on past the point of ridiculousness. The guys who stay telling their wives, and friends, that their big break is right around the corner, trust me, trust me. True forever-adolescents.
I promised myself, at age 15, that that would never be me.
And that has been where my head is at recently. Granted, Metermaids has gotten the chance to do things that only a small percentage of bands ever get to do. And there are some amazing things that I can tell my grandchildren, should I be fortunate to have any -- like the fact that we were in Playboy, or the Village Voice, or that we've rocked venues with thousands of people, etc., etc. We never had to play no damn Teen Center. But we still ain't really making any money, you know?
I had a conversation with a friend in a similar situation at a dinner this weekend. We talked about how, in our experience in the music world, every time you get to a place where you want to quit, some incredible opportunity appears to dangle in front of you again. It happens without fail.
Our project with 9th is another one of these opportunities for us. Another reason to not quit, to stick it out and see what might happen. And if the 9th thing didn't get us where we want, and we continued to plug along, I'm sure something else would pop up that would bring us back to the same mind state. Maybe that's how you end up in your late thirties, playing to empty auditoriums with your shitty band.
But I remember the promise I made to myself as a 15 year old.
I had a great talk with my brother today about the possibility of law school (my brother is a lawyer). I'm thinking about it very seriously. I actually kind of killed a practice LSAT the other day.
People might see a move like that as selling out, "the world doesn't need another lawyer," etc. I don't really give a fuck. My brother worked his ass off to get through school and pass the BAR. I think I can do it too. So Imma look into it.
Obviously the focus is still the music right now. We are working hard. Shit is sounding great. Things are in motion.