Neal Gardner

Musings and observations about music, creativity, and life stuff.

[nealgardner]

a meaningful life

A meaningful life is one which selflessly inspires others to find meaning within their own.

[nealgardner]

The Artist’s Wealth

Money can never buy what you do. Most people will never experience what you do. Most people will never understand you. Your finished product is only a record of the journey you took. Its worth is just that.

The process is everything.

The wealth of an artist is an abundance of emotion, the freeing of the shackles of the mundane, the depths one goes to pursue that pearl of inspiration. The artist creates reality from the unknown, and destroys the universe time and again. 

The artist transcends mortality with a brush stroke.

[nealgardner]

Random Bits (a continuing series)

I need to better organize my writing and expand it out into longer form. There's a book in me, somewhere. ;) ------

1/9/09 Explore music. Investigate it, and ask many questions. There is no absolute certainty to it nor anything else in life. What distinguishes music is that it transcends the mundane, the visible world. Music does not rule out possibility. It is greater than the individual.

7/25/16 The "Passion": There is something you love that is greater than you. Pursue it, relentlessly, until you and it become one. When it happens, all will flow effortlessly and you will live in bliss.

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11/15

To be an artist is to be immortal. Impart every bit of your soul into art. It is what remains on the shore, for eternity, watching your body disappear into the horizon.

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7/22/16

Reductionism

Different than simplification. The goal is not to make something more "basic" but rather get to the essence, the most perfect state.

The perfect state will become a foundation. The perfect state will distill its essence upon each layer. When the layers grow from transparent to opaque, one must peel back the layers until the perfect state becomes visible again.

Layer with reckless abandon, peel back with careful attention. Sometimes, layers can be thin, and can stick to other layers. They might be difficult to distinguish. Do not lose these.

Return to the perfect state from time to time. Don't dwell there too long. It will inhibit growth.

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12/16/15 The artistic process is not limited to music or painting. Artistry exists in people who are passionate about their work, whatever it may be. Do what you love for the sake of the process. Only then will you experience the greatest wealth.

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12/8/15

The end result is merely a record of the process. If your process is pure, the product will reflect it.

In other words, appreciate your skills and talents, and how you use them in all aspects of your life. Your value as a person is not a "result." Life is not a race. You are not a machine that churns out widgets.

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12/3/2015 When I was 20, I created my lifelong mantra: "transcend the mundane." I've carried this with me since then and repeat it regularly. Anyone can do it. Just take some time out of your day to appreciate something beautiful, beyond yourself, and let it wash over you. It can be anything, even something simple that is part of your everyday routine. When you are able to see the beauty in it, and that you are alive to appreciate it, you've gotten a glimpse into something far greater than yourself.

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1/8/09 By understanding the influence of time and polyphony on music, one can further appreciate the complexity of how music is produced.

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10/25/16

Music is where science and emotion meet and sometimes rock the f*ck out.

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5/22/15

My two cents: when people point out that music is my "hobby," I feel sad for them. They'll never know what it's like to have a lifelong pursuit, something which completely transcends the mundane. If you love what you do, make the time. Live it. Be what you love, not a means to an end.

[nealgardner]

Five steps to be creative

1. have a persistent feeling that an intangible piece of the world is missing or incomplete; 2. feel compelled to fill that void, whatever it may be; 3. important: listen to your imagination, no matter how odd it may seem; 4. find a medium - something tangible to translate your imagination's message into the everyday world; 5. don't be discouraged if the end-result doesn't resemble what was in your head. Your imagination will forgive you. Start again from Step 1.

Practice these five steps every day, in every aspect of your life.

[nealgardner]

Spend Wisely

At my in-law's home for Thanksgiving, I was noodling around on my father-in-law's guitar with my son when something I was taught 20 years ago somehow came back up and finally made sense. Some backstory: way back in the 90's, I took a year of guitar lessons with Ron Parmentier. Ron lived in a ramshackle, rent-controlled place on Thompson, right around the corner from the old Village Gate club. He was a brilliant musician but had some issues with translating what was in his head into practical, useful information. I spent an hour a week at Ron's place, each visit a failed attempt to decipher what the hell he was trying to teach me. As the months passed, it was clear that I was not going to learn to play jazz from this guy. Ron would show me twenty different ways to play a simple chord progression; I would learn at most three or four. My solos were rudimentary (at best), even though, week after week, I would watch Ron, in the comfort of his living room, play like a man possessed. That was just it: Ron was possessed. He had demons. The man had such a kind heart and a warm, welcoming smile week after week, but there was a past life which hung over him. You could sense it, like one can sense a terrible storm rolling in from clouds in the distance. It was only a matter of time before it hit. I stopped taking lessons after a year, shortly thereafter moving out to LA for the first time. It was my way of forcefully closing the door on my old life and starting anew. A few years and a few lifetimes later, I Googled Ron to see if he was still teaching and if he had been playing gigs. It was difficult finding any information on him. He never struck me as the kind of guy who would take kindly to the Information Age. One day at work, I stumbled upon an old forum which mentioned Ron Parmentier. It was a thread started by some of his former students. The comments were long outpourings of sadness, loss, love and gratitude for our former teacher. I had no idea he died. It hit me hard. My father had passed only a few months prior, and I was still trying to process that. The only thing which kept me going at that time was music. I was in a band and the songs were the only way I could truly express my deepest emotions. On stage, I too played possessed. This Thanksgiving, at the most random of times, Ron popped back in my head. My son was sitting next to me while I was noodling around on a bossa nova on my father-in-law's guitar. I played a cycle of chords and had a sudden flashback to Ron's apartment. I had played that very same progression with Ron almost two decades ago but had no idea at the time of what I was playing. Now, I looked down and shrugged a simple "Oh, those are secondary dominant chords, a five of three and a five of two." In my head, I sounded exactly like Ron. I looked at my son and smiled. He loves when I play guitar. He loves to join in, even though he doesn't know what he's doing. I get the sense that he just likes being around me while I'm playing. This Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for family and truly wonderful people I've surrounded myself with, but most of all, I'm thankful for time. Time is so precious, the most precious of all things. It is more precious than all of the money in the world. For many, time runs out far too quickly, but it is how they spent their time which matters most. Ron Parmentier spent some time doing destructive things in his life, but the time he spent being a teacher is what he is remembered for. I am grateful for the time he spent with me in his ramshackle apartment, those weekly visits for a year back in the 90's, when I was clearly too young to fully grasp the lessons he was trying to convey, however jumbled they might have seemed back then. My father, whom I argued and fought with more often than not, was a truly good man. I am so grateful for the time he spent with me, no matter how tired and burnt he might have been after a long day of work. As I get older, those times we spent in the backyard throwing a baseball around, and my dad chasing down many an overthrow, pop into my head more and more. Spend wisely. http://ronparmentier.com/

[nealgardner]

The Enemy Within

No one is born evil. No one has ever looked into the face of a newborn and seen evil. Humans are not inherently evil. People are merely products of circumstance. Somewhere along the way, everyone, no matter who you are, will suffer some degree of trauma. For some, it could be the loss of a loved one, a relationship that ended in an unanticipated way, or even a bad day on the playground. For others, the trauma could be far more profound. One can be born into an abusive household, abject poverty, or war. Millions of others have been and will be born into environments where they will inherit the scars of their ancestors - intergenerational trauma. We live in a world where trauma rules our lives. Sadly, it goes untreated, growing exponentially and piling up like landfills. Trauma pollutes our world. Trauma causes people to act out of desperation, act irrationally, and out of fear. We run from trauma. It is our worst predator. When a refugee seeks asylum because her town was destroyed by bombs, the essence of her being is filled with trauma. When an illegal immigrant takes the long, arduous journey to the US because his town was overrun by gang violence, he suffers from trauma. When a boy becomes radicalized because his fathers, uncles and brothers were killed by a foreign military, he does so out of trauma. None of these people were born evil. Violence, in any form, is not a solution. It does not eradicate evil. It does not cure trauma. Ignorance feeds intolerance, and intolerance feeds violence. As such, trauma persists. This is our greatest failing as a race. We have become so far removed from empathy, from love for others, because we lack the ability to see the trauma from within.

[nealgardner]

The 'Frozen' Soundtrack and the state of music sales

I wrote this in response to an article about SoundScan's recent announcement that "60 digital songs have sold over 1 million units as compared to 83 last year." (source below) ----- The Frozen soundtrack is the top-selling album of 2014. This illustrates a point about consumer demographics: "Frozen may have sold so well due to its appeal to both children and their parents, people not in the young adult age group that most often uses streaming services. Older people are more likely to buy an album than young adults, and Frozen being a family friendly movie is more motivation to buy the record as something for the whole family to enjoy." (source below) The target audience there are Gen X parents who grew up consuming physical media (CDs) and later transitioned to buying mp3 a la carte (iTunes). The adoption rate of streaming services (like Spotify and YouTube) is far lower than that of Millennials. Note that the second-highest selling artist mentioned in that article is Beyonce. She has the luxury of being somewhat of a crossover artist between generations; this accounts for consistent (but steadily decreasing) album sales over the years. More and more younger people are now becoming content creators as well as consumers. Technology has enabled them to create music, take photos, shoot movies, etc., all with a polish and sheen acceptable enough for general consumption. The world is now seen through Instagram filters and heard through Beatport loops, all of which can be assembled and remixed ad infinitum. While we live in a golden age of creativity, we also live in a world of extreme ephemera. As soon as content is created, it is already devalued due to the signal-to-noise skew that the Internet casts its long shadow over. Where does that leave the artist? I'm active in more esoteric musical communities, mainly the Ambient music and New Age music realm (although I am a multigenre composer). I've learned quite a bit chatting with those people. The New Age community is predominantly Baby Boomers. Their small corner of the musical landscape is kept alive by CD sales (older folks still love their physical media), song placement, and most of all, live performances to small audiences with disposable incomes (again, older folks whose kids have grown up and moved out). The New Agers talk about the sad state of royalties quite a bit. Streaming services are marginalizing artists by way of terrible payouts. Spotify pays out ~$0.0067 per play, which is now one of the better payouts among streaming services. RumbleFish, another popular service, tracks YouTube plays of an artist's y-sync licensed song but doesn't inform the artist as to where the song was placed, who licensed it, or any metrics. I've had over 7,000 plays of one of my tracks but have no idea as to how this happened (I can't even find my track on YouTube!). With all of those plays, I received ~$20 total and even worse, I have no data to target the audience. At the end of the day, technology is neither good nor bad. It enables more people to be creative and self-expressed. It democratized creativity. This has happened several times in the past (multitrack recorders, consumer synths, inexpensive vinyl, etc.). There has and will always be more "unheard" music than mainstream. Nowadays, mainstream is shrinking more and more because people realize they can either do it themselves or find quality music for free. Sources: http://www.billboard.com/biz/articles/news/retail/6281506/soundscans-third-quarter-numbers-in-one-word-bleak http://www.wallstcheatsheet.com/entertainment/why-is-the-frozen-soundtrack-outselling-every-other-album.html

[nealgardner]

Blue Skies

"Blue Skies" For the past several years, my plans for the day have been dramatically different when waking up on the morning of 9/11. Last year, I simply made a cup of coffee and listened to the roll call of the dead. One year, I decided to take the day off and go to the beach. The only common thread is that every year, I relive the day in my head, over and over again. It usually lasts for a week or so but kicks off a whole chain reaction of other tragic events I lived through only months after 9/11/2001. Years ago, my PTSD manifested horribly on my sister's wedding day after being back at ground zero for the first time since the attack. That day was the first and only time I ever talked with my dad about his PTSD from fighting in Vietnam. He was the only person who understood what I was going through at that time. Fast-forward back to today. I woke up this morning feeling like I should finally write my eyewitness account of 9/11. It's time. I don't expect most people to relate to how I felt that day. There are some people who have a morbid curiosity about the attack. Perhaps it's their way of projecting their own depression or personal tragedies onto a tangible event. I don't know. Most people watched it on TV, miles from where I was. I used to resent these people for not experiencing what I had. One of the first things I learned about PTSD is that this is common; the closer one is to an event, the more one will resent those further and further away, even those who were only a few hundred feet further. This had been an ongoing struggle for me to overcome, and I still have to remind myself that people, near or far from an event, will still feel an emotional connection to something of profound impact. Despite poorly Photoshopped images of "flag+eagle+wtc" (which still trigger a slight sense of resentment), and a majority of people who were nowhere near what I experienced, I woke up this morning feeling ready to share my own account. I'm going to spend the morning writing. While I don't expect most people to read it through, and for those who do to fully comprehend, I imagine people will understand that this experience is a deep part of my life, just as their experience of the day is their own. ------------ I really enjoyed working downtown. The views were pretty spectacular. I had been taking an early train in for most of the summer, giving me plenty of time to sit around City Hall Park before heading over to the office. I worked in the Woolworth Building across the street from the park. From the outside, it was a magnificent achievement of early 20th Century architecture. It was gothic and ornate, and at one time the tallest building in the world. Behind it and to the left was the World Trade Center. The Twin Towers, looming in the backdrop of the cityscape, were monolithic, mirror images of a bold, singular vision of architectural wonder. They were modern, massive, and while not particularly decorative, they were beautiful. My family helped build them. I came from a family of construction workers. Much of our family history can be traced through buildings jutting out of the Manhattan skyline. I felt a sense of pride being around City Hall Park; it was a connection to my roots, and with it, a sense of grounding. The weather was perfect on the morning of September 11th, 2001. It was one of those days New Yorkers long for during the unbearably hot and humid days of late summer. In New York, we refer to our summers simply as "muggy." This morning, however, was far from it. I sat on a bench in the park for a few minutes to take in the sun. Not a cloud in the sky. Warm, but not humid. Perfect. The office was at half-capacity when I arrived. Those who were there were settling into their morning routines, checking email, eating breakfast, and chatting about. I sat at my desk and powered on my laptop. I'd been working on music the night before and was eager to get back to it before diving into the day's tasks. I was feeling productive. When creating music, time seems to slip by at an unnatural pace. My concentration is always so focused. I go down the proverbial rabbit hole. A terrible thud rippled though the building. It was loud. I was startled. I walked over to my boss and asked him if he felt it. We were both in shock. Years later, I felt a similar sense of shock while experiencing an earthquake in Bogotá. When shockwaves pass through the body, the mind quickly goes into panic mode. People react differently. Some experience fear, some denial, and others simply go numb. I said it felt as though a large truck had hit the side of our building. We looked out the windows and across the street, one of the Twin Towers had a massive hole smashed through it. I thought to myself that it must have been an accident. Perhaps a Cessna had veered off course. The two of us ran to a conference room to put on the news. I can't recall what was on the tv; I was deeply in shock. Returning back to my desk, I watched the billowing smoke spew from the tower. There was a certain calm at one point, as thousands and thousands of pieces of paper rained down from the hole. It reminded me of a ticker tape parade. Some of my coworkers were screaming. One was curled up on a windowsill, like a cat. We watched as the people across the street, from the hole in the tower, began to make their way to the edge. A couple of them were waving. We were so close. Someone jumped. I'd never felt terror before. I'd never experienced death so closely. Seeing the absolute fear in some of my coworkers' eyes, many of whom I had looked up to as strong, professional role models, was unnerving. To watch an adult completely break down, every shred of composure stripped away in mere seconds, can leave oneself with a heavy sense of despair. When faced with an immediate threat of danger and uncertainty, life truly becomes both precious and meaningless. The will to survive, to protect oneself, is paramount, but ultimately futile without knowing from what to run from and if and when this unknown threat will catch up to you. A plane hit a building across the street and people were dead. The president of our company entered the room and announced that whatever had just happened was over and we should all return to work. By her side were two clients. They were in a meeting when the first plane hit. Numb. I calmly shut down my laptop and packed my bag. I somehow rounded up a few coworkers who were in deep shock and convinced them to leave. We walked past our president, the two clients, and took an elevator to the ground level. In hindsight, I can't believe how we were able to catch an elevator so quickly. The lobby of the Woolworth Building was chaos. One of my coworkers wanted to get a closer look at the burning tower and ran off. Another soon followed. It was so difficult to keep our group together. One woman was barely able to stand. She was inconsolable. People were shouting. It was crowded, and no one seemed to know where to go or what to do. There were no clearly-marked signs which read "In Case of Emergency, Go Here" or pamphlets for surviving an airplane attack. I knew we had to leave and get as far from the World Trade Center as possible. The most logical route was to take Broadway uptown. The building shook. Another plane hit. There were six people in my group. Me, another guy, and four women. We were two block north of Broadway when one of the women ran off. She was hysterical and insisted she get home to her nearby apartment. On that same street, I saw three men carrying another person on their shoulders. There was a lot of blood. One of the women in the group wanted to sit down in the middle of the street. She was hysterically crying. I threw her arm around my shoulder, helped hoist her to her feet, and pleaded with her to keep walking. We continued on past the Federal Building. I looked up at the sky, waiting for the next plane to hit. I was waiting to die. We were nearing SoHo. My wife. I had a moment of clarity. She worked by Broadway and Prince St. I needed to get to her. The other man in my group suggested we all go to his apartment in the West Village. I parted ways with them and ran up towards my wife's store. When I reached there, she and her coworkers were listening to the radio, uncertain about what had happened only a short distance away from them. They were all standing around; no one seemed to have the urge to leave. I yelled at a few of them. "We have to go! Now!" I tried to explain everything I had seen, but I was panicked. My wife and I bolted out of the store, not waiting for anyone to follow. As my wife and I walked up Broadway, there were many people standing on street corners trying to get phone reception. Some were on their phones, all of them crying. This is still so clear in my memory. I recall thinking about how they must have been on their phones with people trapped in the towers. I tried calling my mom who was working in Midtown, but I couldn't reach her. I was determined to get to her office, which was a straight shot up the road. As my wife and I walked, I kept telling her not to look back. Plumes of smoke stretched across the Downtown sky. The thick, billowing clouds of grayish black were so starkly contrasted against the clear, blue sky. There was not a cloud in the sky earlier that morning. I watched the first tower fall on a TV. I refused to look behind me. There was a storefront display with several televisions all tuned into the events. We stopped and watched it happen from there. Only after what felt like a minute or so did we turn around and see the wreckage in the near distance. More screaming. I don't remember how my wife and I ended up in my mom's office. I can't recall the walk from the time the first tower fell until the moment we were all in a conference room watching images of the Pentagon smoldering. The three of us hugged. The memory is a jump-cut, somehow editing out what must have been some painful, introspective moments. I can stop this story here. At that moment, there was comfort amidst the pain. This memory would begin a new story, one even more painful. But for this brief moment in time, I'd like to remember the three of us embracing. As I grow older, there are more and more jump-cuts between memories. Had I written this account the day after, or even a year or so after the events of the day, it might be more detailed, and perhaps there would be more insight into how I felt on a moment-to-moment basis. The luxury of writing in hindsight is that it affords one the ability to describe remaining memories with far greater clarity, style and deeper meaning; age can bring a better sense of self and with it a more developed voice with which to write. Perhaps I'll revisit this next September 11th and fill in some of the gaps. Maybe they'll be forgotten. Neal Gardner 9/11/2013

[nealgardner]

Support Your Local Curator

I often talk about the problem of too much quality content vs. audience indifference. I've listened to so much great music by independent artists who simply will never get the recognition they deserve. I'm not talking about making all musicians rich beyond their wildest dreams; that would be a ridiculous expectation. However, there is a great wealth of music out there which audiences need to hear. They just might not know where to find it. Now is more than ever the time to raise the value of "The Curator": a person or entity which offers an audience a small, select group of works which share some fundamental commonalities. The Curator knows where to find the good stuff. Trust in his or her taste and you'll discover a world you didn't know existed.

Imagine a busy street. On the sidewalk, people busily rush by. Occasionally, a street performer will show up and attract a big crowd. People gather for curiosity's sake, but after the trick is done, those folks go about their business (and will ultimately forget about that performer after a short while). The next day, another street performer shows up and garners a small crowd. Each day a new performer shows up. Eventually, the street is packed with performers, becoming a cacophonous mess of noise and people vying for attention. People ultimately avoid the street altogether.

Also on that street is an art gallery. Occasionally, a person or two will walk inside and take a look around (for curiosity's sake). The work in the gallery shares some common thread, be it aesthetics or a narrative, among other things. If those people like what they see, they'll return, and probably with a few friends. Over time, the gallery gains a following. People seek out the collections, and whether or not they know the curator's name, the gallery has become a brand of quality and interest. In this case, all of the artists attached to it benefit.

In the end, a curated collection can transport a person from the chaos of a busy street to another world. Encourage audiences to seek curators as a point-of-entry rather than artists directly. Encourage artists to support curators. Do this and you'll reconnect artists and audiences. Then, our lives will all be a little bit richer. Here’s my contact info. Feel free to drop me a line. I am very passionate about music and love talking shop about the creative process and the business-side of things. Neal Gardner https://www.facebook.com/NealGardnerMusic [email protected] http://nealgardner.bandcamp.com btw-you can find me on iTunes, Spotify, etc. :)

[nealgardner]

"Look! There's a squirrel…"

"Look! There's a squirrel…" I can't count how many times I've heard that comment when referring to ADHD. As someone living with ADHD, it can be pretty hurtful. Here's the thing: ADHD is a legitimate, serious mental disorder. ADHD occurs in 3 to 5% of the US population. ADHD is recognized and treated as a chronic illness. It is complex and covers a broad spectrum of symptoms. The disorder is identified in the DSM-IV by three subtypes: Predominantly Inattentive, Predominantly Hyperactive-Impulsive, and Combined. In addition to the three subtypes, there are associated disorders (comorbidities) including depression, anxiety, occupational defiance disorder, auditory processing disorder… the list is long. I've been diagnosed with Combined ADHD by three different trained medical professionals. This subtype of ADHD is used when six or more symptoms of inattention and six or more symptoms of hyperactivity and impulsivity have persisted for at least six months. For me, it has persisted for years, from early childhood through the present. Unfortunately, I spent my entire life (up until mid-2013) undiagnosed. Imagine going through life thinking something was seriously wrong with you but you just  couldn't figure out what it was. ---- I went through life not knowing I had a serious learning disability. No one put the pieces together. Not me, my parents, teachers, friends… not one person. How could they? I started reading when I was three years old. My first words were "air conditioner." I was considered gifted, tested high on all sorts of intelligence-assessing standardized tests. My trajectory to academic excellence would be short-lived. By the age of 13, I had dropped all of the accelerated classes I was recommended for, and by 15, had all but failed out of high school (I entered an alternative education program at another high school shortly thereafter). I felt like a failure. As it was, my undiagnosed ADHD brain was the cause. One of the hallmarks of the disorder is distractibility. When one is in a constant state of distraction, it is difficult to focus on tasks. Learning a new process requires attention to details and steps. The ADHD brain tends to miss steps, often critical ones, and especially when in environments which are overstimulating (like large classrooms) or in situations which are dull and uninteresting/mundane. Imagine someone recites a grocery list to you. Even after you feel you've carefully jotted it down, you will most likely return from the market with some, but not all of the items. Chances are, you will return with items not on the list because they seemed interesting to you at the time. This is how distractibility can feel. Impaired short-term memory is another symptom of ADHD; no matter how many times you go to the market with the same list, the outcome will most likely happen again and again. I can't begin to tell you how difficult it is for me to remember peoples' names, dates, appointments, etc. I am thankful that I work for a company which requires employees to wear clearly-visible name badges. I sometimes wish it would become a universal fashion trend. The learning disability components of ADHD can significantly impact one's educational path, professional development, and quality of life. Those with ADHD tend to reach lower educational levels, earn less money, and bounce from job-to-job more often than "neurotypical" people. Case-in-point: I attended two high schools, four colleges (it took over six years to earn a B.A.), and worked for ten companies in five years (I won't divulge my salary). Another symptom of ADHD is impulsivity. Interests tend to be short and intense. Ideas can flow like a rushing faucet but without the ability to turn it off. Many of us excel as creative types and entrepreneurs from the rush of exciting, stimulating thoughts. The flip-side to impulsivity is that it never, ever turns off. This can be a toxic combination when combined with distractibility. From my own experiences, I've started more exciting projects than I can count but have only completed a small percentage of them; this also contributes to feelings of being a failure. Another facet of impulsivity? The constant rush of emotions. The most recognized but least understood component of ADHD is hyperactivity. As a child, I was definitely hyperactive. My mom has told me that when I was much younger, my pediatrician recommended I go on medication for hyperactivity (I was not put on medication). While most people with the disorder outgrow the physical symptoms of hyperactivity, the brain can remain hyperactive. Hyperactivity is linked to impulsivity in that it is in essence the engine which powers the train. When a stimulating, impulsive thought occurs, hyperactivity will make it happen. Sometimes, this can be a great thing. In fact, I tend to feel like a bit of a superhero when a positive, impulsive idea occurs and I suddenly feel compelled to make it happen. This is commonly referred to as Hyperfocus or "super concentration." Despite completing only a small percentage of the projects I've started, I have in fact completed many short-term projects. To put it into perspective: I record new music several times a week and have been doing so regularly for over 15 years. Out of the thousands of unfinished songs I've started, I have over 60 songs published on iTunes (many more floating around the interwebs) and close to 200 unreleased, completed songs. The down-side to a hyperactive, impulsive brain is the extreme difficulty in filtering emotions. I have a terrible, terrible temper. I am aware of this. It is a horrible weight to bear sometimes. I have thoughts of suicide regularly (these started in my early teens and continue today). I lash out when angered and I fall to pieces when sad. When I laugh, I pour my entire soul into it. When I'm happy, I shout it from the rooftops. There are times where there's zero emotion, and my mind and body completely shut down, like a robot. I've described it in the past as like watching life as if it were a movie being projected in front of you, yet you can't touch it or feel it. In addition to the constant flow of impulsive thoughts, the unquiet brain must contend with Hypersensitivity. This causes the brain to be extraordinarily aware of external stimuli, like sights, sounds and touch - all of it: exciting, pleasurable, annoying, distracting, etc. I had a nervous breakdown over the course of a few months in 2013 (which ultimately led me to seek professional help and resulted in my ADHD diagnosis). The breakdown was directly linked to my environment. At work, my cubicle was situated in a brightly-lit, large, busy space against a window which faced a major construction site. Every day, for several hours, I was exposed to the constant cacophony of all sorts of loud, banging noises one would expect to hear from trucks, cranes, pile drivers, diggers, and nail guns (those drove me particularly mad because of the odd intervals one of the workers used to pull the trigger in). The daily exposure to noise caused my behavior to become erratic. Some days, I would sit in my cubicle, stare at my screen saver and cry for long periods of time. Other days, I would simply leave work after a few minutes and go work from home (despite being told I was not allowed to work from home). The noises became ingrained in my head. It heightened my awareness of all noises around me. My hypersensitivity became completely unbearable. I couldn't be around people, especially my coworkers. Sleep became a chore (insomnia is an issue with Combined ADHD and something I still struggle with). In this time, I recorded an album of Ambient music ("We Are Infinite"). I spent many sleepless nights writing and recording the album. It became the only sound I could listen to. My job has been accommodating to my disorder. Since then, I've been moved to a much quieter part of the building. The lighting is lower, there is far less people traffic, and virtually no noise. While I still struggle with the daily challenges of ADHD - time management, organization, concentration - being in an environment with far less stimuli helps. Every bit counts. Perhaps the greatest struggle in my life has and continues to be a crushingly low self-esteem. I have very vivid memories of early childhood, of feeling "different" and "out-of-place." I was painfully shy. As a teenager and into adulthood, I was terrible at relationships. I fell deeply in love and had my heart broken so often, more so than anyone else I knew. I couldn't hold down jobs. I was an academic failure. I felt trapped in my own body. I didn't like how I looked, felt, thought, acted around others… I started drinking very young. Some truly terrible circumstances in the early 00's sent me into a downward spiral. I almost died early one morning in 2002. For years, I felt it would have been fine if life had ended at that moment, drunk and face-down on the ground, in a pile of my own sick. Life has not been easy, but it has gotten much better since then. I'm married to a beautiful, amazing, inspiring woman. I've created so much music in the past decade (and finished a couple of songs along the way). I've been at the same job for nine years. And most importantly, I have a diagnosis. I have answers. I have the keys to my mind, an explanation for my past, and the awareness to positively deal with the people around me and those I love most in the world. Every day is a challenge, but I now know who I am and how best to deal with life's challenges.   "Look! There's a squirrel…" Yup. There sure is. I see it. Thanks for pointing it out. ---- If you think you might persistently exhibit features of ADHD, consult a medical professional. Sources: http://www.psychiatrictimes.com/adhd/what-are-common-comorbidities-in-adhd http://www.webmd.com/add-adhd/childhood-adhd/types-of-adhd https://www.msu.edu/course/cep/888/ADHD%20files/DSM-IV.htm http://umm.edu/health/medical/reports/articles/attention-deficit-hyperactivity-disorder http://www.dsm5.org/Documents/ADHD%20Fact%20Sheet.pdf

[nealgardner]

To Be a Musician

Music is communication. To communicate well is an art form.

Music without an audience is ineffective. It should be effective.

Music should challenge the listener, but not be difficult to listen to.

It should be uncompromising.

When one removes the spontaneity from the equation, the message changes.

All musicians should at some point in life perform in front of an audience in some capacity. It is a test of one's ability to communicate. An audience will humble you.

Don't ever quit, even when you believe others have quit on you.

Improvise.

Learn to read and hunger to learn.

Love. Hate. Embrace. Reject.

Listen to others' music with the attention you give to your own.

Feel music.

[nealgardner]

Has Modern Technology Rendered Art Worthless?

"An essential element of any art is risk." -Francis Ford Coppola "Art is a personal act of courage, something one human does that creates change in another.” -Seth Godin

In the past, an Artist would spend years learning (or unlearning) technique while honing one's craft. Artists sacrificed financial and societal obstacles for the sake of pursuing the freedom of the ultimate self-expression. This relentless pursuit was treacherous and filled with hardship. There was risk.

Thanks to modern technology, the tools an Artist has at his or her disposal are virtually limitless. For the first time in human history, we live in an age where the once-physical instruments to channel creativity (be it a piano, a paintbrush, a camera, etc.) are now relegated to smartphone apps. Anyone can create, anytime and anywhere. Creative tools offer "cheats" to expedite processes and eliminate imperfections. Camera apps have filters. Music apps build chords and melodies. Writing apps analyze paragraphs for common errors. There is not one artistic medium which has not been turned into an app and sanitized for the sake of ease-of-use. Time is no longer a factor when creating. While this has essentially democratized creativity, the ability to distinguish artistry in the traditional sense from something templated and formulaic has become difficult. A few years ago, New York Times staff photographer Damon Winter's "A Grunt's Life" photo essay won third place in Pictures of the Year International’s Feature Picture Story competition. The photo essay was shot using the Hipstamatic app on an iPhone. Clearly, Winter didn't need to spend time choosing the right lens, filter, etc., that a traditional photojournalist would employ, as well as not having to spend any time in a dark room to process the film. New York Times contributing photographer Chip Litherland noted that it was irrelevant that the photo essay was shot on an iPhone, but did state that using Hipstamatic to employ filters made all the difference:

"…what is relevant is the fact [that the images were] processed through an app that changes what was there when [Winter] shot them.  It’s now no longer photojournalism, but photography. That transition happens when images become more about the photographer and less about the subject of said photos."

In the past, an Artist would require a fair amount of advocacy, promotion and financial backing to publish a work, show at a gallery, etc. This model provided value. Art was curated. An audience knew where to look for Art. Some of the great Artists would slip into obscurity in their lifetimes, only to be discovered well after their deaths. Genius had value. Now, one can distribute works of Art via social networks and media repositories like YouTube and Soundcloud for little to no cost at all. Modern technology has brought with it limitless distribution outlets to provide content. We are our own Curators, wading through the endless torrent of content. Everything is ephemeral. Art has the shelf life of a meme. In 2011, Justin Mitchell, a Facebook Photos engineer wrote: "We currently have over 200 million photos uploaded per day, or around 6 billion per month." That figure represents photos stored only on Facebook. Since then (and since the rise of Instagram), It is estimated that 10% of all photographs in human history have been taken in the current year. Spotify, the leading online music streaming service, reported in late 2013: "80 percent of the 20 million songs on the service have been streamed at least once.  Which also means that 4 million tracks have never been played — not once." Content is being created exponentially with each new iteration of a smartphone. It is being uploaded to exponentially-growing content repositories. An Artist can now create and distribute faster than at any other time in human history. When an Artist posts a work online, it gets lost in the vast pool of online content. Even if it happens to float to the top, gets millions of views/hits/listens/etc., something else attention-grabbing will come along, virtually seconds later, with the same level of impact as the last. For the audience, this creates a level of fatigue they will never overcome. By bombarding an audience with content, they grow apathetic. They will not invest their time and emotion appreciating something which lacks a sense of longevity.

Regardless of how much an Artist has emotionally invested in his or her work -- risked -- it is indistinguishable, in the eyes of an audience fatigued by content, from the millions of other works just like it. This has essentially wiped the element of risk out of the equation. Without risk, Art is worthless. What can an Artist do to retain risk? -Curate your work. Don't feel compelled to release work often. Wait until you have a sizable body of work piled-up, and then choose to release only the best of the bunch.

-Use technology wisely. Think about it more as a tool to help create a vision rather than a tool which dictates what your vision will be. -Challenge yourself. Don't get comfortable with certain tools and techniques. -Respect your audience. Art is nothing without an audience.

-Art is communication. Communicate well. 

Here’s my contact info. Feel free to drop me a line. I am very passionate about music and love talking shop about the creative process and the business-side of things. Neal Gardner https://www.facebook.com/NealGardnerMusic [email protected] http://nealgardner.bandcamp.com btw-you can find me on iTunes, Spotify, etc. :) Sources: http://99u.com/articles/6973/francis-ford-coppola-on-risk-money-craft-collaboration http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/7421862-linchpin-are-you-indispensable http://www.quora.com/How-many-photos-are-uploaded-to-Facebook-each-day/all_comments/Justin-Mitchell

http://www.digitalmusicnews.com/permalink/2013/10/11/songsonspotify

http://hyperallergic.com/18805/iphone-photojournalism/

[nealgardner]

Publicists/PR Campaigns From an Independent Musician's Perspective

The following is a pretty long post and will take you ~5-10 min to read. I highly recommend reading if you are an independent artist seeking to learn more about the PR experience from the artist's perspective (rather than a Publicist's pitch). I recently hired Curtis Smith (Maelstrom PR) for a six-month campaign to promote an album of mine. Before I continue, I'd like to preface by starting that Curtis is a nice guy and has plenty of experience in the music industry. Also, this comment is intended for independent artists who are seeking to generate publicity and have not yet worked with a publicist. Curtis' rates (which are standard, but not necessarily fairly priced) are $1,000/month for a 6-month campaign. Curtis gave me a deal by knocking $50 off the monthly rate, but in the grand scheme of things, this is nominal. Other costs you can incur during a campaign include CD production, press photos and if need be, hiring a professional writer to create a bio for your press kit. A PR campaign essentially works in this manner: The publicist has a list of contacts which he or she send blasts to about your upcoming release. The difference between this and a straight marketing campaign is that the publicist is targeting writers, journalists, radio shows, podcasts, etc., whom the publicist feels have influence and will be advocates of your work, rather than sending blasts to large segments of the population. If the publicist's contacts feel the artist's work is worth backing, they will do so, becoming the catalyst for others to pick up on your work (the tipping point). Note to artists: When hiring a publicist, he or she will ask about Lead Time. This means that you are giving the publicist a few months prior to release to generate buzz about it. As the campaign progresses, a publicist should gauge whether or not his/her contacts are responding. If not, the publicist will begin researching and targeting new contacts. This would most likely happen in the middle of a campaign. When a campaign winds down, the publicist will assure you that there will be post-campaign buzz as some contacts are slower to respond than others (due to back-logs of reviews to write, playlists to fill, etc.). Working with Curtis, I had to be very clear about goals and accountability. This is important for all artists to do when working with music industry professionals. Chances are, your publicist has other clients; make sure your individual needs are being met. Curtis provided periodic phone updates and emails. In them, the tone was cheerful, positive, and spun things in a manner which seemed that my campaign was going well. This is one one of the primary jobs of a publicist: Changing perception. Be mindful of this and demand ACTUAL METRICS from a publicist. Because Curtis did not provide me with meaningful reporting, I created a tool in Excel to capture data. I asked he complete the spreadsheet based on the criteria I was looking for. The data I wanted (by month) for analysis was: -list the total number of recipients he contacted (name, company, url, etc.) -record the # times/month he contacted each recipient and type of contact (email, phone, facebook, etc.) -record the # times each recipient replied -record the # of recipients who actually replied -record the number of final deliverables (album review, radio spot, podcast mention, etc.) and the value of each (i.e., album review is high, one-time play on local radio is low) -determine the influence/reach/impact of each recipient (note: this required some research on my end, but it is worth the effort) Once I had the data, I was able to get the following analysis on the work Curtis had done during the 6-month campaign: Total # of contacts sent to recipients: 1,004 Avg. # contacts sent per month: 167 Total # of recipients: 157 # of recipients who replied: 29 % of total recipients who replied: 18% % of replies based on total contacts sent: 3% Total # of final deliverables: 5 % of deliverables to recipients (SUCCESS RATE): 3% The five final deliverables during the 6-month campaign were: 2 podcast plays 1 radio interview 1 album review 1 press release Notes: The radio interview was on ArtistFirst radio, a very small station with a nominal audience. The company will interview anyone for a fee. In other words, this is a "pay-to-play" station. Many of the recipients on the contact list were no longer in the music industry. I spent time researching and found that ~20% were not reliable contacts. During months 3 and 4, Curtis's frequency of blasts dropped dramatically. They picked up in months 5 and 6. Takeaways: As an independent artist, YOU DO NOT NEED A PUBLICIST. My cost of doing business with a publicist for a 6-month run was $6,000. I took out a loan to do this. I have a successful daytime career, so I'm not angry about this. I look at it more as paying for a good learning experience. However, I also know that many independent artist do not have this luxury (which is why I'm sharing my findings with you). As an independent artist, expect to spend money on your musical aspirations. Treat it like a business, and you will see business returns. Spend wisely. There are a growing number of freelance writers and bloggers who will write album reviews for a fee. Those people need to make a living, so do them the courtesy of paying for their services. A publicist will tell you this business model is not good. It is a fair model, but it undermines the need for a publicist. At the end of the day, writers need to eat. Instead of spending money on a publicist, think about spending on social media marketing. Take out a few ads (don't spend too much) and see how they perform. If your music "sounds like ______", chances are, some people might listen. Be your own publicist. Put in some research and find contacts for your own list. If you like a certain label, website, blog, etc., find the contact info and add to your list. When you have built up a decent-sized list, start sending blasts. Track your progress. If your list isn't working, do some more research and try targeting a different audience. For instance, there are thousands of DJ's on Soundcloud who have influence. Try that route. Try some netlabels, specialized Facebook groups, etc. Find influencers and find your audiences. Music industry professionals make more money than the actual musicians who provide the product. Think and act like them. Cut out the middleman. If you need help, find other musicians who have made in-roads. Join forums, be active in communities, and ask questions. Most importantly, don't get discouraged. YOU ARE THE ARTIST. Keep creating and love what you do. Here's my contact info. Feel free to drop me a line. I am very passionate about music and love talking shop about the creative process and the business-side of things. Neal Gardner https://www.facebook.com/NealGardnerMusic [email protected] http://nealgardner.bandcamp.com btw-you can find me on iTunes, Spotify, etc. :)