It’s not about the music, it’s about what drives us to make that music…

Since I was a small girl, I’ve always dreamt of becoming a singer. Some of my earliest memories include receiving my first karaoke machine, setting a “stage” for myself anywhere I could and singing for anyone who even pretended to listen or care. I sang for the love of music, I sang for the love of singing and of course, I sang for the spotlight. I didn’t have any social mores nor was I trying to spread any sort of message…I was five. I sang for completely selfish reasons because that’s what five year olds do.

So jump to my adolescent years, my love for music and performing had only grown fonder and my view on the world was starting to shift into something fervent with hormonal activity. It was then when I started to really understand why people threw their heart and soul into their music and suddenly, my love for the art had much more substance. With this, I quickly fell in love with any band, artist or musician that stood out to me. Every word sang sank deep into my heart and at an age where I was especially green and responsive, I took it seriously. I trusted these musicians more than…almost anyone. I didn’t even know them as people, I just knew their music.

Lauryn Hill was an exceptionally strong figure for me. Her delicate but full-bodied vocals graced heavenly over the rapping gentlemen who made up the rest of The Fugees. After taking off on a solo career, my respect and love for her remained steadfast as she spouted off lyrics that spoke to both my heart and my head. She was a strong female kicking asses and taking names in an industry run by men and I wanted to be just like her…

…and then I heard it: the rumor circulating in which claimed that Lauryn was racist. The inflammatory remark when she supposedly said that she would rather see children starve than have white people buy her album flipped my stomach inside out. I was thirteen, uber passionate about music, in the process of still constructing own personal standards and meanwhile “going out” with a boy whose skin color was opposite of my own…I tossed every CD and cassette that her name was printed on. I was crushed and infuriated that someone that I held in such high regard could be so heartless and crude. I took it personally as a white girl who purchased her albums and I swore that I would never support her again.

Well, Google didn’t exist then. I did not research to investigate the claims. Whether the rumors held any merit didn’t even cross my mind. I still don’t know the truth nor do I care as I am much more aware of the dangers of public media, how easily words can be misconstrued and the fact that people just say stupid shit. I am totally desensitized at my age today, but I do know that the effect of that situation changed my world.

My case scenario was possibly the best that could happen…it only strengthened my disgust for racial intolerance. However, we all know that the statement that Lauryn did or did not make also had the opposite effect on some of her followers. “If Lauryn hates white people, I should too!”   ….right?

As musicians, we must be mindful of every move we make and word we say. Unless you are absolutely sure that you don’t have a bone in your body that cares about our youth and the future of our society, your words must be meticulous. Even success on a small local scale could easily impact a few hundred teenagers with the instant access that social media provides us today. It’s a large task that not everyone is up to, understandably, but it’s an important one to say the least. Exposure in the public eye comes with responsibilities that, unfortunately, many musicians use irresponsibly. 

As humans, we are bound to make mistakes and it would be extremely difficult to live your life watching every P and Q, but it comes down to basic ethics. I don’t care if you are as musically diverse or as richly versed as Johann Sebastian Bach, if your voice speaks for intolerance, ignorance, greediness or unacceptance of any kind, I can not stand by you. If your personal goals do not strive to enrich humanity or create some kind of community, the music that you make will only reflect that. 

We have to turn things around…I’ll start with myself.

After four years, it still is just a substitute for my Livejournal. 

I love that Tumblr is here and I love that I can search tags easily. But I hate reblogging. I despise the way that it’s become a mere distraction for what I really want to say.

Reading back through my old livejournal entries, I was a complete open book to anyone who cared to read. Much of it is difficult to get through now because some of it is overwhelmingly honest and earnest, but I was young and green. Still very self-aware, however, and it’s so interesting to return to the archives and read not only my very blatant honesty about every experience and emotion I was undergoing, but also the support group that I found in my friend’s comments. 

We don’t receive that here. We drown out our most sincere posts with countless ridiculous memes and staged or edited photos of nude bodies. Tumblr mimics the real world in a public social setting…we mask our insecurities with bullshit upon bullshit so we can avoid heaviness or deep personal connection. There is nothing substantial, endearing or rewarding in that. 

I miss the connection that we had. Through my keyboard, I would reach with digital arms for any sort of notification that there was a keyboard on the other end, lit up by another person’s electric fingertips. 

I don’t feel that here, but certainly, the times move forward. And it’s very possible that I always tried to make this website something that it is not. 

It’s what I seem to live by. With an unfaltering inclination to follow my impulse, I try to do so without the hindrance of fear. Thankfully, my parents raised me to be strong and driven and reminded me often that I could be anything I wanted to be because they would always protect me. And what a security blanket that was-just enough sugar to add to the strength; just enough bitterness to drive the soul to change. 

Some people don’t understand why I can be so rough around the edges…outspoken and often uncensored; friendly and sweet but stubborn and cold. It’s a paradox that I’m well aware of and I’ve often heard “complicated” used as an adjective to describe my personality, but I prefer “multi-faceted.” Truth is, I’m guarded. Aren’t we all? I’m human…I’ve got secrets and emotions that I store away while simultaneously reaching out for companionship. I want to be connected but not  too connected.

This is what makes music and writing so special to me. When words are written and lyrics are sung (or screamed or shouted), an unspoken dialogue is shared between the reader and the writer or the listener and the musician. Within this dialogue, we can communicate without filter and interact without hesitation. This is when past and future lose importance and it’s only the present that we live through. No matter the subject, pure emotion ebbs and flows between each other and we become enveloped in love, lust, rage, regret, despair, anguish, arousal, ecstasy, gratitude and wonder and in that moment, we have a license to just feel. We don’t have to think. It’s pure honesty and what could be stronger that that?

We’re too scared. For the short amount of time we walk this earth, we sure don’t appreciate the power that we have to make our life something truly remarkable. We mull over shit too much. We spend too much time questioning ourselves instead of questioning those in power. We should be speaking and breathing with pure intention and be extremely skeptical of those who don’t. We should be honest with ourselves and honest with each other, because we are only as weak as our closed lips.

I was thinking today about how fucking sad it is that the world teaches us to be deceitful.  In the past, I’ve used the phrase “Fake it until you make it.” without ever really giving it too much thought. Working in the beauty industry for the last ten years has exposed me to some of the most arrogent, money-hungry, image-obsessed, narcissistic individuals that I could only dream of meeting. It’s no wonder they have to wear a mask-they can’t honestly show their client that the service they are providing isn’t actually meant to benefit the customer, but instead feed the stylist’s or business owner’s ego. I know, we all have to eat and in this world, you’ve got to work for that, but our career’s often go far beyond supporting our family. Maybe most of us can’t help but to follow the insatiable herd and to be able to do that, we have to “fake it until [we] make it.” … because if you can’t beat them, you might as well enjoy a beer with them and then stab them in the back when they turn around join them, right?

Well I don’t want to be a part of that. One of the reasons I dont want to have children of my own is because I know that there are millions of people already alive that are sick of the status quo and are waiting for someone to inspire them to push through. They are waiting for the same support that my parents gave to me to create a movement.

I know my calling, I just have to muster up that same strength. Maybe I’ll never cause direct change or be remarkable myself, but I hope that I can at least help someone else to turn this ship around.

Trial and Error. Let’s see what I can make work. 

I’m just generally angry about the lack of respect in the music industry. In performers. In listeners. In general. I’m angry that some so called “musicians” in these trendy metalcore bands are all the rage. And you know, some of these musicians are tremendously talented and intelligent, and they may even desire to take a different approach to their music, but the vast majority of them follow this trend because they know it will put them in the spotlight. They know that their merchandise will be put up on Hot Topic’s wall as soon as you can say “sellout”. 

The other huge wave that has been devouring our bars and clubs in the last few years is indie folk pop. I actually enjoy a lot of these acts, but how many of them sound EXACTLY the same? 

And punk…I don’t proclaim to be an expert in this subject (i know how touchy you hardcore kids are) but I could go on for days about the new wave of punk and hardcore emerging above ground these days. And now with the reunion of Verse, Refused and At The Drive In, (and maybe I’m over-ambitious when I say this) the punk scene has potential like we haven’t seen since the genre was born in the early 80’s. I owe so much of my inspiration to bands that stem from this, but the fact that respect is near to non-existent in this community for other genre’s of music or bands in the SAME community makes me want nothing to do with this highbrow crowd. 

The punk kids hate the metal kids. The metal kids hate the punk kids. The folk-inspired hipsters who are hung up on these God damn bands that have predominantly tried to recreate the 60’s while fashionably representing the early 90’s snub and talk shit about everyone who isn’t like them. Fuck you. Oppress your feelings, pretend like anger isn’t an emotion that you were doomed with and keep your intellectual noses in the air under your thick rimmed glasses, spitting on anyone who has the nerve to admit that they really didn’t see that one band in that one basement before they were mentioned in that one magazine. By the way, your “subculture” is obviously not so alternative if half of your generation looks like you. 

I don’t get it. Where is the vision? Why are we still bowing down to unoriginal versions of the same band we’ve seen 467 times? I’m just angry and I won’t pretend that I’m above this. I’m not. We’re not.

And I’m still outraged by the gender issue. Just because I was blessed with a uterus does not mean that I can’t throw down. In fact, my estrogen gives me more fire than most of my male counterparts. My body was created to endure the pain of bearing another human being; I can handle myself. The fact that I am judged strictly because of my sex pushes me to work even harder to prove that maybe I am a maniac. 

The comparisions. THE COMPARISONS.

“You’re like Everytime I Die but with a chick!” Fuck you. We’re like Fine Fine Titans. Look, you may mean that as a compliment, and trust me, we love the music that band creates. However, I’m sure Everytime I Die would not appreciate the 12+ years they’ve spent evolving their sound to be used as an association to a band that’s only been together for a year and a half that actually doesn’t sound remotely like them. 

“Haley Williams” What? Really? A mainstream, pop-punk band with strictly clean vocals? I really adore her, but the only thing I have in common with Haley Williams is that we’re both chicks. WEIRD, RIGHT?! 

I get it. People tend to analyze music and correlate it to the sounds their ears have heard before. Vision also has a lot to do with this, unfortunately. We just LOVE to compare, contrast and criticize anything we think have a small knowledge base on. It’s human nature. I appreciate when people try to compliment us using identifiable bands, but I know the pendulum swings both ways. So seriously, stop comparing. Turn off that folder in your head that you’ve filed every band you’ve ever heard in and stay in the moment with us.

Sure, call me a hypocrite because I just said that a million bands sound the same and then yell “don’t you dare say we sound like this band!” It’s true. I’m a hypocrite, maybe. However, my goal is not to mimic the sound of other’s, so if it does, we’ve failed.

At least I’m trying. We’re trying. 

“Human beings like to have one foot with God and the other with darkness…most people want Divine beings to do the spiritual work for them-that’s why they give their religious institutions money, so their rabbis, priests, or swamis will pray for them.” -Kelly Cutrone

You know, I have no problem with taking a stand. In fact, I highly encourage others to be brave enough to step outside of their comfort zone and show the world what they believe. However, the salesmanship persona really irks me. The one where we sweeten up our vocabulary and insert personal blessings to soften someone up and then either tell a barefaced lie or ask for a monetary contribution. It’s sneaky and a tremendous risk to take if your goal includes gaining followers at all.

The information age has really done a deal in creating wiser generations.  With the answer to any question literally at the tips of our fingers, it’s no mystery why children have become increasingly more defiant. Why they (we) are stronger know-it-alls than ever! So these tactics that car dealerships, furniture stores and thousands of religious institutions have used forever are falling apart and will one day no longer be effective. Further more (and call me a snobby know-it-all myself), not only will we not buy the bullshit, but frankly, it’s going to piss us off. We are not ignorant and we’re much more educated than we look to be.

This struck me in the face last night when I received an email from a woman who I no longer speak with, asking for my money to fund a mission trip. This upset me on so many levels. Not because I have an issue with Christianity, I’ve had a lot of personal revelations, falling-outs and ideas about organized religion, but I am not opposed to people using their belief’s to help and nurture those who need it. I am also not opposed to donating money to someone who is set out on a large task-whether for personal gratification or for a greater good. I believe everyone should be given a chance. However, I do not agree with a mass email sent out to everybody in her contact list asking for money to fund this mission trip without taking into consideration the state of the economy, her relationship with the recipients of the email or lastly, their faith and personal life. Perhaps she could have avoided any discrepancies if she grouped her address book into “professional,” “friends and family,” and “church.” Perhaps this is a bit more of a personal issue between us.

If you couldn’t have guessed, I fall under the “professional” category, where for a few months, I was paying her to give me vocal training sessions. For the duration of our sessions, she was taking my hard earned cash each week to not actually stretch my vocal skill, but to instead find ways to talk about God and all that he has done for us (me). She videotaped me singing to use it as an advertisement for her “vocal business” on various social media outlets (I still had to pay for that lesson which she used up to record this). She asked me to sing with her at Church and at a funeral. She handed me secular songs to “learn” in which all spoke about the wonders of God. It didn’t take me long to figure out that her mission was not to teach about proper breathing and vocal techniques, but to instead shove her faith down my throat and get me into her church. She utilized me as a tool without ever asking what my actual belief’s were. She took my money each week and gave me nothing but the word of God in return. After I broke business with her, she wheeled and dealed me on salon services for her and her daughters and was appalled when I actually charged her at the salon, and then never spoke with me again.

I just find it so amazing how hypocrisy grows like mold. Frankly, I think religion is a crock of shit, but this has absolutely nothing to do with my spiritual belief’s. Wouldn’t it just make a little more sense to be upfront and honest? If someone were to approach me with a sincere wish to educate me about something, be it the great Divine, Scientology or a even a fucking stainless steel soup pot, I’d be much more inclined to listen and respect their mission than if they were to send me a passive agressive email saying “God LOVES you and through you, we can advance the kingdom with your one time gift or monthly support!!!”

Seriously, if you want to spread your passion for something you hold in highest regards, do not put it up for sale. Why would you put a monetary value on your Lord and Savior?

Denial: The word we use to convey a suppression of the truth.

Pretend: The act we put on when when we desire to suppress the truth.

Avoidance: The distraction we use to steer away from the truth.

And what is the truth, exactly? The one variable that keeps us from being happy? Is it the end-all, be-all for us to inevitably turn our backs on in order to keep face and composure just to make it through the day; the week; the year? Do we avoid it to keep ourselves from hurting those that mean something to us? Do we deny it so that we can protect ourselves? 

The truth for everyone must be greatly influenced by each individual’s surroundings, yes? And when we speak of this truth, are we referring to very specific events, details and relationships or are we simply (or not so simply) referring to the one, ever-bounding, worldly truth?

Is there even one?

I suppose we have to start with ourselves. If we can’t figure out our independent truths, how can we figure out anything else?

And now I’m writing in circles. Words and phrases so vague, even I don’t know what Im talking about anymore.

And that’s the truth.

Maybe it’s best if we bury the truth. Live a lie and deceive ourselves until the lie becomes the truth. Essentially, isn’t that what we’ve all done our entire lives? Our parents tell us innocent stories that we don’t perceive as lies, but they are. Like love stories? All fucking lies. As young girls, we grow up to believe that our prince is waiting for us in his shining armor. He’ll then sweep us off our feet, save us from the demons that hunt us down and we’ll create a home in his arm’s. We are told stories of happiness and romance and selfishness. Which one of those words are true now? Now, I’m told that the only person that is responsible for my happiness is myself. I’m told that we all have to be selfish sometimes and look out for our best interest. Romance? I don’t even know what that word means; it’s non-existent. Maybe because I’m too selfish and too busy trying to make myself happy, I’ve closed off any chance to actually let romance in. 

But still, what the fuck does it mean? Is that also dependent on the person expressing affection? What about the receiver? If the receiver has a different idea of romance, does it still exist between the two individuals? If so, how does the other reciprocate in appropriate fashion? If not, where does the romance go? Does it just fade away into the night, dissipating with the stars?

Truth and romance. Two words that I’m convinced cannot co-exist without contradicting each other.