SEARCHING

Photo by Seth Werkheiser

Love this from Mehret Biruk:

“I’m not searching for gmail.com, I’m searching for something, something of the past. That feeling. When I first learned to want and be wanted in a specific way; differently. All of it happened over the internet, the devices, the notifications. And what can I do about it now? Except hope that with enough time, enough effort, I will learn to forget the notifications. I will learn to want and be wanted in other ways; differently. Offline.”

From ‘Angry and curious‘

I do the same with email. Let me check one more time. Before a run. After a run. When I get home. As dinner is heating up. During dinner.

I’m searching for something. That email from someone that will sweep me off my feet. The job offer. The opportunity that gift wrapped from the universe just for me.

As Mehret says, time to deflect this feeling into something in the offline world, without a screen. I feel I get this more and more just by being outside. Finding myself stepping away from the computer more often. Going for walks. Long runs. Using my camera more often.

The search online never ends, but time on earth sure does.

HARD ART

Photo by Seth Werkheiser

Lots of people are making great art. And now AI is coming in to make things more tricky. Sure, Fiverr. All that.

The “great art” part is easy for consumers – they know it when they see it. They might not even care if you made it or a computer made it. They know what they like, and they buy it (or just save it to their desktop).

What I’m saying then is your art isn’t for those people. Your work isn’t for “I’ll take whatever is cheapest / easiest.”

Your work is for people who want to go deeper, who care, who think the person behind the art matters just as much as the art.

Those are your people, and if you’re lucky, they may someday become customers.

The text above was part of my reply to someone talking about the never-ending conundrum of “getting the word out” about what someone makes as an artist, or a painter, or a photographer. How we need social media, how everything is stacked against the independent creative person.

They had two posts on their Substack, so I mentioned this, too:

I read two of your posts – one about ADHD, and one about the atrocities of the war-ravaged world we live in. I already know you care, that you think about others, that you live with ADHD (something I know very little about)… but now I know a bit about you. You’ve already made it clear “this isn’t just about making pretty pictures.” You’ve put on full display, “This is me, this is what you get.” For what it’s worth, I’m going to subscribe – not (just) because of your art, but because of who you’ve shown yourself to be, which is how all this works.

I’ve channeled a lot of Seth Godin energy in this reply, but seriously… there’s a lot of great artwork out there. There’s no shortage of that. But there’s a shortage of people who care, who show up like you do. Keep doing that.

THANKFUL FOR COMPILATION CDS

My friend Marissa wrote ‘My love letter to compilation CDs,’ and it’s been on my mind.

“(T)he first one I can really remember is Punk Rock Strike Vol. 1 by Springman Records. My gosh, as a young punk trying to discover new bands, that thing was a game changer. It was my first exposure to bands like The Wunder Years, No Use for a Name, and The Amazing Transparent Man, just to name a few.”

Spoke with another friend today who mentioned the Lumberjack Distro samplers we all used to get, which reminded me specifically of the ‘Lumberjack Distribution Spring 2003 Sampler.’

I had two MP3s saved from those days, the first of which was Kid Gorgeous‘ ‘Anyone Ever Tell You That You Talk Too Much.’

Most of it was standard metalcore fare, but the ending chorus section, those guitar harmonics or whatever? I LOVED that.

The other was ‘Missives On a Recurring Theme’ by Theory Of Ruin which I can’t find streaming anywhere, but here’s a link. Like, can’t even find it on YouTube. If I didn’t rip this song back in the mid 2000s, would it even exist anywhere online?

These are from over 20 years ago, from the year 2003. This was just two years after I started my music blog, and I was like a kid in a candy store, just devouring this type of stuff.

All these years later, yeah, it’s harder to get excited about finding new music, just because, dammit… I’ve listened to such much music over the last 30 years, you know?

When I was a kid in the late 80s, we had hair metal and Guns N Roses ‘Appetite for Destruction’ and Metallica’s ‘… And Justice For All.’

Then I was in high school in the 90s, so that means Rage Against the Machine, Nirvana and SoundGarden and Alice in Chains and Primus, like… my god.

Then yeah.. early 2000s up till like 2010 I was drowning in music, having run my own music blog, then started NoiseCreep for AOL Music in 2008.

That’s a long time to have been focusing on music with such intent. All the shows I went to, bands I interviewed, albums I listened to.

Right now, at 48, it’s just so much harder to get excited about new music. I absolutely love some of it (Knocked Loose comes to mind, of course), but… dammit, I’m not in my 20s or 30s anymore.

This is growing up, huh?

THE PINNACLE

It’s half-marathon week. This weekend I’ve got a hotel booked, meeting a pal, bringing my camera equipment – it’s gonna be great.

I ran 90 miles in May, which is way more than I’ve ran in a long time. I ran 8.5 miles early Sunday morning and got this photo at a place called Pinnacle along the Appalachian trail (here’s a map).

Earlier this year, around the first few warm days of Spring, this spot was filled up like a Starbucks. People everywhere. Today? Not a soul. It was gorgeous.

BYE, LINKEDIN

We did it. After countless years of absolute random ding-dongs asking to connect, and then just “wishing” me a happy birthday once a year, I’m out. Aside from the two gigs I ever got from this service, the distraction, the inane 9000 word articles from the thought leaders was just not for me.

STOP DISTRIBUTING CONTENT

LinkedIn is awful, and for some reason I’m still on there, and they keep sending me emails. One today asked this, and I’ll answer it here, and not distribute it anywhere, thank you very much.

Q. How can you distribute content effectively across multiple platforms?

A. Don’t. Stop distributing content. Go for a walk instead. Talk to your neighbor. Read a fucking book. Take a picture. Knit a scarf. Learn karate. Ride a bike.

Everyone is distributing content. It’s all the same. We’re all taught to believe that if we just write enough “content,” and distribute it enough places, then we’ll be like Justin Beiber and someone will discover us and hire us and we’ll be rich.

I’m not saying it never happens, but come on – if everyone is doing this thing, and obviously it’s very easy to “distribute our content,” then why aren’t more people killing it?

If we’re all so smart, and all our friends are smart, then why aren’t we all over employed and speaking at big conferences?

There are only so many podcasts to appear on, to share our leading-edge thinking.

Do we think the people in positions to hire us are hanging out on LinkedIn all day? That they have the time to read everyone’s 500+ word posts about productivity and how AI will help the music industry?

Get outta here.

CHOKE UPON THE BILE

Back in the early internet, I remember how visiting a message board was exciting because there was always going to be something new there. Some new comment, or new thread.

Then I discovered blogs, and was like, woah, the message board is THE FRONT PAGE. Only it’s curated by a single person, or a small group of people (this is how my first music blog came about).

See, there was just soooo much music out there on the internet, and us “bloggers” (for lack of a better term for someone who sets up a site, manages the domain name, edits posts, schedules posts, trys to sell ads, etc) highlighted the best bits. Sort of like when Yahoo had actual people managing the directories… search algorithms weren’t up to snuff yet, so humans did some of the best sorting, but the problem was… money.

Ya gotta pay people! And wow, companies really don’t like doing that – not at the expense of giving the execs a few more million in bonuses!

But that blog thing was a cultural movement. Sites like Pitchfork and Stereogum and Engadget and Gawker were fun to read, and made an impact.

Until they didn’t.

Bloated, promoted in an ode to pomp and style
Moistening the feed while we choke upon the bile

‘Motherfucker’ by Faith No More

This song came out almost ten years ago, and we’re still choking on the bile of the internet.

“But Seth,” they say, “no one visits websites anymore.”

No, no one visits your website.

Social platforms convinced everyone to dump all their writing, art, photos, and various “content” onto their websites, where we all believed “Everyone” could find it, and like it.

No one visits your website, but they visit a few websites that aggregate everyone’s website content and sell ads against it. We call that the internet now.

No thanks.

THE INTERNET ISN’T A DESTINATION

I love this bit from Jaime Derringer, who created Design Milk 18 years ago:

“The Internet may no longer be a place I want to frequent.”

Back in the 90s, I remember riding my BMX bike and looking forward to getting on mIRC later to catch up with some friends on #pasxe (if you know, you know).

The point wasn’t to be in a chat room all night; it was to find out what shows were coming up or if we were meeting at a diner later that night.

The internet was a tool, not a destination.