So, I don’t really neccessarily believe in these people. But. I’m in a position to write some songs for some cheesy pop acts, and get paid for it. I think this is perfect timing. With the whole “I am a musician, I make music” talks. Anyway, I was thinking about it. A great way, in the past, for me to push myself out of creative slumps… has been to reinvent myself in one way or another. Usually this involves a name change and a new songwriting technique.
Once upon a time, there was Apartment 61, which was me channeling all of my hatred for domesticity towards my music, also with vocal/violin/percussion help from my girlfriend. I wrote sarcastic, subtly angry songs about puppies and wardrobe concerns and plumbing and girlfriends.
There was Claus Jones (with some help from The Family Jones). That guy was out of his goddamn mind, and wrote a ton of songs about nothing and everything. There were also a lot of noise experiments. Jones was not big on words either, just like me.
Most recently, 2 to 3 years ago, there was The Love Campaign. This was when I tried to start a band and a movement. It was ridiculous, and failed miserably, because I’m not a fucking hippie. But the songs were very free-spirited and kind of sad and grown-up.
So what now? I am in a position to write songs and to sell them to someone else. But really, I will probably write songs for someone else and then decide I need to keep them. Because I’m fucking greedy with my art. Anyway, I need a new moniker. I can’t be myself when I write songs, because nothing is ever good enough for me. So. I’ve had it in my head for weeks now. Maybe a month.
A name. That’s symbolic of my current place in life. And where I’d like to go. With my life. I’m not sure I can explain it all, because it’s very personal and I’m certainly not drunk. I will just say the name, and I’ll leave it at that.
Under this name, I will write dozens of pop songs with inconsequential lyrics. They will be sad/happy songs. They will be guitar-based, and I will still remember how to play most of them in a couple of years. I will write too quickly to care about what I’m writing. I will be writing just to write, kinda like this blog. If I can sell something for money, great. Otherwise, I will have dozens of mediocre songs that I can improve at a later date. With new lyrics and more watery reverb. I will become a prolific musician once again.
And this, for now, is all just for practice’s sake. Because, when I get back to Portland, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna start a weird band and we’re gonna play shows and we’re gonna record and we’re gonna put out music for people to hear and we’re gonna tour the west coast and I’m still gonna have a shitty part-time job, but it’ll be worth it. Because I will be focusing my energy in one direction: kicking out some motherfucking jams.
I’m getting old. If I’m gonna do this shit, I should probably start hurrying up.
And so it goes. And so it begins. We Cantaloupe are born.
Stay tuned. Or don’t. I really don’t have to care anymore.