Onstage!

 I thought I was done. 

    It's possible to categorize people into two groups: those that like to perform and those who don't. Or maybe I should say those who are compelled to perform, and everyone else. There isn't a lot of research into why some people feel the need to get in front of others, mainly one finds lots of information on how to master performing, as if it's expected of you and a skill everyone should have, whether they want it or not.

    Shakespeare said, " All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players". I think what he was getting at is that in many ways life is a performance; we learn as children how to "act", and as we get older we make decisions about who we are and adopt behaviors that express that self knowledge. Society expects us to behave in certain ways appropriate to our age and station. So to a certain degree we all are performers in our day-to-day lives, but that doesn't quite explain those who seek the spotlight as a primary source of self identity. 

    You probably have heard performers who say, "I only feel alive on stage", which I find a little sad and limiting. Yet it is those who are driven that find success as performers; it's not something one can undertake half-heartedly. In Nashville I met many musicians who came to town with a fire in their belly, and spent literally every moment singularly focused on getting onstage and noticed. Sometimes they seemed a little manic and I wondered if it was healthy, since the odds for fame and fortune are slim. 

    So why do some of us feel the need to get up onstage and why do we reward them so royally? Psychologically, one theory is that some feel the need to be "seen", and performing is a way to get the attention missing from their childhood. The spotlight and the applause becomes the parental approval they were denied.  On the other hand, we've all seen "stage parents" who push their kids as well. While this analysis goes pretty deep, it does make sense and perhaps explains why some performers don't really enjoy performing for its own sake, aren't particularly entertaining, but nonetheless feel compelled to be the center of attention. Much more can be said about this and I'll have some more thoughts in future posts.

    Personally, I have always been sort of neutral about performing. I started doing piano recitals when I was nine, was in theater in school, in bar bands and so on, so it sort of came naturally. I don't get stage fright, which of course can be paralyzing.  As it turned out I stopped for twenty years and didn't particularly miss being onstage and only started up again when my passion for songwriting began. During that long hiatus I didn't really think I'd ever want to perform again, that part of my life was over.

    In Nashville songwriters are expected to perform their own songs as part of networking with other writers, since most successful songs are co-written with two or more writers collaborating. I found I enjoyed the challenge of "selling" my songs in a competitive atmosphere of a writers night, but when I moved to Oregon I didn't think I'd continue. I was happily surprised to find a lively music scene here where one could perform in a winery tasting room, so I gave it a try. I'm playing solo doing my favorite songs and producing "Nashville style" shows with other local songwriters.

The result of this has been a whole new "act" in my play, to paraphrase Will S., and I'm having a great time!

Singer/Songwriter Rick Millward lived and worked on the West Coast until moving to Nashville in 2000. He was part of the Music City songwriter community, collaborating with other artists and producing over 30 projects in his boutique studio, including two EMMY nominated soundtracks. Now in Southern Oregon, Rick has discovered a vibrant local music scene centered around the many tasting rooms. 

His latest record “Loveland” is available on Spotify and other streaming platforms.

LOVELAND ON SPOTIFY

    

 

Really?

"New Rules"

In a recent episode of Bill Maher's HBO show "Real Time with Bill Maher" the comedian did a "New Rules" segment that talked about the Millennial Generation's supposed entitlement syndrome. 

    He mentioned participation trophies and how they supposedly give kids the attitude that they deserve special attention and that they all essentially just want to be famous without achievement. He went on to say that that was against the values of a meritocracy, and then weighed in on Spotify:

New Rule: Equality of Outcomes 

    While one might question the virtue of Woody Allen in other ways, he did say "90% of success is just showing up".  That's the motive behind the trophies, it's acknowledgement for showing up. Bill went on to say "54% of millennials would want to be "influencers" and 72% want to be famous", but didn't mention where the stats came from. I googled around and found a report from The Morning Consult, the big marketing research company ( Here it is. ) and YPLUSE (Here ) that had that data. What Bill didn't mention is what motivated them and it's not being famous. The #1 reason was "to make a difference in the world".

 

    He then goes on to mention a recent Rolling Stone magazine article about how a minority of artists on Spotify are paid a majority of the revenue from streaming. This is true, but then he went on to imply that it's because Spotify, and the music business in general, was a meritocracy and that the majority of music didn't earn revenue because it wasn't any good. 

    In fact he said, "Music is hard and most people suck at it". (2:59)

    He goes on to suggest that just because a song is on Spotify it will be judged by the market as to whether it's "good" or not, which seems to mean he believes that all songs are equally visible on the site, saying:

    "You can't complain no one heard your song because no label will sign you." (3:42)

    Really?

    Whether any particular piece of music is good or not is another discussion for another time. In this case he's suggesting the metric that matters is commercial success, as typified by Grammy awards and internet plays, so I'll try to address that.

    To begin with, while it's not difficult to get on Spotify, it does take the time, effort and money to write, record, mix and master a track. That's the showing up part, when an artist makes the commitment to put his work out there with everyone else. But that's just the beginning and this is where the actual difference lies and it has little to do with the quality of the music. 

  Music is a product and like any requires marketing to expose it to customers. It's well known that as much or more is spent on promoting music as making it. It's a huge business, Nashville is home to a small army of people who make their living working in promotion and PR.  It takes upwards of a million dollars to launch a new artist nationally, which, by the way, is a debt the artist then must repay out of income. Some of that money is spent on social media campaigns that lead to exposure that generates plays on Spotify. Not everyone can make that investment, and most accept the fact that the odds of success are slim unless everything breaks in your favor. It's always given the labels an advantage.

    Occasionally a song goes viral on it's own. But it's pretty rare relative to the amount of music that's out there. Also, a song probably isn't going to get much attention unless it's attached to a video, another expense an artist has to incur, although some have broken through with low budget iPhone videos. 

    I'll also mention there are many who have chosen the touring lifestyle as a way to promote themselves, build a fan base, and make their living as working musician, something I admire. I'm constantly discovering touring artists who have thousands of Spotify plays each month just from years of constant gigging. 

    I take issue with Maher's attitude because I think it unfairly criticizes young people as being entitled, but then goes on to generalize about musicians, not all of them millennials, who are disadvantaged by a system that is skewed towards money as well as merit. Yes, it's a meritocracy in some ways, but in others more of a lottery.

    It seems a bit surprising considering what comedians, or anyone in the arts, face trying to start a career and be successful.

Anyway, here's a track I consider "good" that Bill might enjoy.

Singer/Songwriter Rick Millward lived and worked on the West Coast until moving to Nashville in 2000. He was part of the Music City songwriter community, collaborating with other artists and producing over 30 projects in his boutique studio, including two EMMY nominated soundtracks. Now in Southern Oregon, Rick has discovered a vibrant local music scene centered around the many tasting rooms. 

His latest record “Loveland” is available on Spotify and other streaming platforms.

LOVELAND ON SPOTIFY

RIP CD

 There's probably no better example of how technology has changed music than the rise and fall of the Compact Disc. When Edison invented sound recording in 1888 he could not see how in less than a century his ingenuity would be implemented on a 4" disc that would be the last physical manifestation of sound before it became virtual and integrated into, ironically, the telephone, invented a few years before.

    In high school I worked at the school "radio station", playing records over the school PA during lunch. Other students would bring their records for me to play, and I had some of my own. When I first started recording I aspired to make a 45rpm single; a vinyl record. This was the standard I had grown up listening to, and for me represented the pathway to success in music. Later, when I started my recording career the first projects I did were for bands that were making singles.  

    

    By the mid 80s commercial records began to be released CD and vinyl record sales plummeted as record labels embraced this less expensive format and players found their way into cars. At first digital recording was an exotic option for artists, with multi-track digital recorders rare and expensive, so albums were still recorded on tape, but with the advances in PC based recording systems by early 90s most recording was all digital.  

    From it's beginnings, digital recording has been criticized as being "harsh" by audiophiles while tape is characterized as "warm", and that debate has continued, so much so that tape was never quite been abandoned and various methods are used to add warmth to digital recordings. Personally, I use analog processing equipment, tube mics and preamps, during the initial recording to give my recordings a natural sound, which is a compromise that works for me. At any rate CDs took over the market and dominated sales for nearly 20 years. The iPod changed all that. By using data storage technology, file compression,  and a portable package it quickly took over the market. CDs were an alternative at first, but by around 2010 they had faded until now the only vestige left is the square format for album artwork. 

    I made 250 CDs of my album "Limited Edition", and packaged 25 in a custom metal case in 2013, partly to take note of the need to do something unique with the discs. The rest I put into a recycled paper sleeve to sell at gigs. I still have about 50 left! Like most independent artists I sold a couple every time I performed, but I've seen the interest wane in recent years, even for what I appreciated was an impulse buy. 

    On my latest release "Loveland" and the two that preceded it I've opted to go completely online, which is the equivalent of throwing my music into an ocean where it swims with all of the millions of other songs from all the other artists. I'm ok with this, but there was something about holding a CD that at least gave me the feeling that it was a unique work of art that I still miss. 

    All of this is to answer a question I get from my clients about whether they should have CDs made. I have to say no, don't, unless you plan to give them away. As for those few I have left, they sit by the tip jar with a sign saying, "Free CD with tip, Thanks"... Otherwise:

Who would have thought we would one day listen to music on our phones? What's next? An implant? 

Singer/Songwriter Rick Millward lived and worked on the West Coast until moving to Nashville in 2000. He was part of the Music City songwriter community, collaborating with other artists and producing over 30 projects in his boutique studio, including two EMMY nominated soundtracks. Now in Southern Oregon, Rick has discovered a vibrant local music scene centered around the many tasting rooms. 

His latest record “Loveland” is available on Spotify and other streaming platforms.

LOVELAND ON SPOTIFY

Country...sigh...

      

My relationship with country music is one of unrequited love. 

   

As a songwriter I'm somewhat obsessed with the genre since I first reacquainted myself with after reading Jimmy Webb's book, and then by chance attending a workshop with him on my first trip to Nashville before moving there. Prior to that I was more into the "California Country" of  Poco, Linda Ronstadt and The Eagles, and had written some country-ish songs but I quickly learned about a whole new world. In this world singers didn't write their own songs; other people did.    

     It was an interesting time,  Garth Brooks still reigned and had released the Chris Gaines album and there were artists like Pam Tillis and Patty Loveless who were experimenting with songs that were outside of traditional country.  Looking back, I think it was a renaissance of sorts with a healthy competition to expand the genre.  

    Country music has a formula that almost every song follows. It's evolved and moved away from the traditional sound to something more like '80 pop rock, and more recently even adopted some rap and hip hop, but the verse/chorus/bridge arrangement formula is still pretty much intact. If you listen to the top 10 country songs you'll hear multi-track distorted guitars, an in-your-face kick drum and a shredding solo. 

    Some complain that country music has become stale and corny. It's all about pickups, beer and girls in cutoffs. This is true to some degree, but depending on your definition of corny, that's just part of the charm. I look back on my first attempts at writing in "the formula", (which will never see the light of day I promise) and I see I was embracing a certain pathos; what I didn't see that there is a discipline to the cliches and triteness, and in that there can be elegance and artistry. One recent example I think shows this is Blake Shelton's latest; "Minimum Wage".  

    However, success leads to repetition and now most artists, writers, and producers stay with what works, and given the stakes who can blame them? It's admirable how successful many artists have become, helped by a tight playlist and relentless repetition on radio, youtube videos, and constant touring.

Country Music Concert

   Commercial music is just that...for money. Songwriters in Nashville are engaged in art and commerce. The object is to create music that instantly connects with a listener...a "hit". The psychology of music has found that listeners actually make a song part of themselves and each time one hears it, it's an affirmation of one's identity. While this sounds somewhat clinical the actual experience is pleasurable. It's akin to what we feel when we see art we want to possess, but music has it's own place in our psyches. 

    As a songwriter it's been challenging to write in the country formula. For me it's been like throwing darts with one eye closed. I can hit the board but getting a bullseye...? It's a bit maddening, because I continually hear songs that are well crafted, often with a certain engaging simplicity. But it's not a simple thing, and I'm compelled to emulate it.  At the same time the tracks have great production and some inspired playing, so I also listen as a producer and take note of the drum sounds and mixing techniques.

    I have a dozen or so songs that were written with the intent to follow the commercial country format. I don't perform them because they aren't personal, or they just don't feel authentic to me as an artist, but I do think they are competitive and it would be gratifying, not to mention lucrative, to have them covered by a well known artist, but the reality of the market makes that unlikely. There is a "Catch 22" irony to getting noticed which simply put is that one has to have success already, somewhat like the adage, "if you want to make a million dollars in the music business, start with two million." 

    The challenge for me is to come up with the undeniable "hit",  in a genre that is constantly a moving target for what is timely and relevant. I'll keep at it and maybe someday my crush on country will be returned.

Singer/Songwriter Rick Millward lived and worked on the West Coast until moving to Nashville in 2000. He was part of the Music City songwriter community, collaborating with other artists and producing over 30 projects in his boutique studio, including two EMMY nominated soundtracks. Now in Southern Oregon, Rick has discovered a vibrant local music scene centered around the many tasting rooms. 

His new record “Loveland” is available on Spotify and other streaming platforms.

LOVELAND ON SPOTIFY

10,000 Hours

"Driving in my car, smoking my cigar

The only time I'm happy is when I play my guitar"

- Cream    

With the release of "Loveland" I have this sense that I have come to a new vantage point in my musical journey. It's like I've climbed to an overlook where I can see both forward and back from where I have come. 

     Recently, I was looking at a photo of my first band back in High School. We were playing at the annual school talent show. The "Jaguars" were one of two bands; we played instrumentals like "Wipe Out" and "Tequila", nobody sung, and we had a trumpet and sax player. The other band had discovered the British Invasion, and did a killer version of "Satisfaction". It was a memorable event, the first time I ever performed in public and the first time anyone ever danced. 

    I played pretty steadily in a succession of bands, for the next 15 years, then put music aside. The reasons I gave up performing are a long story, not particularly notable, except that years later by chance I rekindled my love for music, as a composer, which led to songwriting, a move to Nashville, and most recently, a return to the stage. All through those years my main motivation was the need to earn a living, any purely creative impulses were strictly a side issue, an indulgence. Now that it's more in the forefront I'm thinking more about the "why" rather than the "how".  

    Like a lot of aspiring musicians I overlooked the "business" part of "the music business" when I was starting out. There's a mythology about "being discovered" and "overnight success" that is prevalent even though the facts are otherwise. Depending on the source, the statistics say of an estimated 25 million musicians in the US only about 1% actually make a living from their music. Those are steep odds. There are a number of reasons for this but a big one is the fact that the market is generational. It's rare, if ever, that one sees a new artist over the age of 35 achieve commercial success. In my own case a combination of bar band burnout and a realization of this fact led me to music production, which proved to be a pathway that allowed me to have a career, relative prosperity, and still be close to the creative side that I loved. 

    In Nashville, I met a lot of talented people who were still chasing the dream of commercial success despite years of rejection. Some of them were bitter, but others accepted the reality of the odds and were happy to be part of an arts community that gave them the opportunity to live a creative lifestyle even if they had to do something else to make a living. What I learned is that the music "business" is exactly that, a business like any other that requires capital, sales and marketing, and where success is very often dependent on having the right product at the right time for the market.

    More recorded music is available to consumers than ever. In 1975 about 1000 albums were released commercially, around 10,000 songs. Now 25,000 songs are uploaded every day.  The power of music labels still dominates because the cost of marketing gives an advantage to those who spend the most money. In many cases, if not most, the cost of marketing and advertising is several multiples of the cost of producing the music. I've known this for some time as I've watched the growth of home recording, a boon for those who want to record their music, but resulting in a flood of product.

So why persist when the odds of ever earning any financial reward are virtually nil?

That's right, the "why" does become more important than the "how" at a certain point for most of us. I've found two reasons, one practical, one magical:

1. Practical... After years spent learning an instrument the challenge to improve is still compelling.  Playing music is good for you for lots of reasons, especially as you get older; good for your brain, good to have goals, good to see progress. At a certain point playing, daily practice, becomes not what you do, but who you are, and what I call a " magnificent obsession".

The conventional wisdom is that it takes "10,000 hours" to master an instrument. If you break it down this way:

10,000 divided by 4 hours a day divided by 5 days a week (pretty intense schedule!) works out to about 10 years, assuming one takes a few breaks, a vacation now and then. 

So those who start early in life, say 6 years old, could conceivably be a virtuoso by age 16, and we have a few examples of that in guitarists like my hero Joe Bonamassa. Obviously, not every professional musician has spent 10,000 hours so one can be successful with less effort, but it still takes a considerable commitment of time and an investment that you'd like to see have some sort of return.

2. Magical...songwriting is a process that is part craft and part inspiration. One can master the craft and still have no clue as to how or when inspiration may happen, only that it's always worth the wait. One thing all songwriters share is an appreciation for those unexplainable moments when the universe smiles on you and a lyric and melody come together. One example is my song "If Everybody Loved". I was just noodling around with a song idea along the lines of universal love and the line "if everybody loved as much as I love you" literally popped into my head. From there the song just flowed, because once you have the main theme it's just a matter of filling it out:

"If Everybody loved, what a world this would be

No more loneliness, every soul set free

Stars would shine brighter, sky would be more blue

If everybody loved as much as I love you"

Listen to "If Everybody Loved"

At this point I'm not sure if I've racked up 10,000 hours, I've lost count, but I'm lucky to have something that is still compelling and provides a sense of accomplishment along with the challenge to keep improving.

Singer/Songwriter Rick Millward lived and worked on the West Coast until moving to Nashville in 2000. He was part of the Music City songwriter community, collaborating with other artists and producing over 30 projects in his boutique studio, including two EMMY nominated soundtracks. Now in Southern Oregon, Rick has discovered a vibrant local music scene centered around the many tasting rooms. His new record “Loveland” is available on Spotify and other streaming platforms.

Available on Spotify

Discography and Production

     My first paying project as a composer was for a corporate video. I wasn't really prepared when the opportunity came along and went out and bought a keyboard, a mixer and a MIDI program so I could record on my Mac SE. It was definitely a "earn while you learn" situation and after a couple of all-nighters I was able to record a simple track. I did a ZZ Top style blues rock song to accompany a Silicon Valley company rally that used a vintage Cadillac as a prop, and it was a success. I was on my way.

     Over the next decade I produced tracks for other videos, including Silicon Graphics, Hewlett Packard, Visa, Apple and others as well as starting to record some songs of my own. With each project I expanded my capabilities and equipment until I had a commercial recording studio. In Nashville I used the equipment to record my song demos in a home studio. At first I didn't seek out projects with others but eventually I started working with friends and over time built up a clientele, including other songwriters, did some tracks for cable tv and a couple of projects with the local PBS station that earned regional EMMY nominations.

      My time in Nashville was rewarding, even though I didn't place any songs with established acts, which was my main goal professionally. I'm glad I went if only so I could be sure I tried my best to break into what is arguably one of the hardest aspects of the music business: songwriting. It's a small group who can consistently make a living at it and there are many obstacles that must be overcome to achieve success. As I learned about the business I became better and found my voice, something I'm not sure would have happened had I stayed in California. Now on the West Coast I'm coming back to playing and performing again after a long, long break, as well as making some new music. 

        The latest  project is "Loveland" which was just released. Here's the Spotify link:

            My discography consists of three other albums of original songs:

"homemade" (2000) is an EP with 6 songs that are commercial country song demos for other artists. These tracks are the first ones I recorded that feature pedal steel guitar which opened up a whole new world for my sound. These are some of the first songs I felt expressed a personal style with an ear for what I heard on the radio.  

"Limited Edition"(2013) is a six song EP, each having a special meaning as representing milestones in my songwriting development, in particular "Baby Don't Cry". It came from direct experience, written in the moment and resonates deeply for me.

It's available on Spotify and is also the last record that I put out on CD, with a few in a "limited edition" metal case.

"Home for Good" (2016) has 10 songs that fall solidly into the Americana genre. They all explore themes that look at our culture from a personal point of view and is somewhat confessional and opinionated. It's on Spotify and other 

platforms as well.

    So those are the "official" releases. I've done three other records that weren't put out formally. Some of those songs made it onto later albums, and some are still "in progress".  In addition I have others that are reserved for pitching to country artists. They follow the radio format and don't quite reflect my personal style, though I do play them live sometimes just to showcase that side of my writing. It's a real challenge to write in the commercial radio format, and the competition is inspiring. 

A Fateful Turning Point

    There are rare moments in life when an event changes your future. One for me was when by chance I saw a newspaper ad looking for "musicians with construction experience wanted to build a recording studio". 

    In 1979, I had been playing in bar bands for several years, but even though I was living in the Bay Area, a music mecca at the time, and had been in a a couple of promising groups I hadn't reached the level of success I had hoped for, and, frankly, I was getting burned out-too many nights in smoky bars.

    When my latest band broke up, I was at a low point. I thought I wanted to "go solo", but I didn't have the resources to put together my own act and was working as a dishwasher to pay rent. Then I saw the ad in the classifieds. One of my "day gigs" had been as a carpenter's helper and I had learned some skills. I had also played with tape recorders for years, but at that point hadn't worked in a professional studio.

    This was to be an experience that would last three years and completely change the course of my career in two main areas. First, I became an expert in recording studio building techniques and sharpened my carpentry skills, something that would be valuable to me later, but more importantly I learned the basics of studio recording. which was to became my primary occupation. Although I put performing aside I was able to make my first recordings in the newly completed studio. It was a beautiful facility that is still in business and I will forever marvel at my good fortune to have been part of the team that built it. 

    I recorded 10 songs there which were to become my first record. It was called "The Dolphin and the Rose", with cover art on that theme. It was not released, mainly due to my complete lack of understanding of the "business" part of the "music business...a long story for another time. Nevertheless, I still have the tracks, transferred to digital from the long gone tape, and still enjoy listening now and then to my earlier self. 

    What's really interesting to me is that at that point I really hadn't settled on a personal style, and the individual recordings reflect several influences; Beatles, Jackson Brown, Doobies, folk rock, Steely Dan,  r&b, and even country. The one I've included here is called "Standing In One Place", which is one I still perform. I'm going to do an updated recording soon. I'm curious to see what I'd do different now.

    I can hear that developing artist in my most recent album, "Loveland". This record still wanders around in what I call "genre fluid" styles, but is certainly more focused. The big difference is that back then I was unconsciously reflecting all my influences rather than deliberately choosing a personal style. I had only written a handful of songs at that point and was just beginning to master that craft, something that continues to this day.  

    What this really brings home though, is the concept of fate. The definition is "a power beyond human control that is believed to determine events". 

    The "beyond human control" is the part that really gets me. The fact is we only have one path to follow in a universe of infinite possibility. How any one person's experience unfolds is the result of how their path winds through this infinite wilderness and though we may believe we know our way, the truth is that it is truly, "beyond human control". 

     I'm not prone to nostalgia, particularly about my career though it's been an amazing journey, but I can only guess at what would have happened had I missed that ad. It's not an exaggeration to say that the universe opened up for me at that moment and ever since has led me to this one.