Wednesday, November 24, 2004

Let's talk music people...

Yes, come, let's talk about music. You know, that thing that you listen to. If you are any normal person from the ages of fifteen to about twenty-five, it's pretty much a major part of your life. You go to shows and you buy CD's and you talk about music with your friends. This is the ideal situation, now let's talk about the actual real-life scenerio:


I am in a band. We try to write good music. Complex, intricate, fun songs with parts that are different that conventional rock. Something to set us apart from other bands that isn't a gimmick like us wearing costumes or makeup. We put alot of thought and alot of heart into every song that we write, and it seems like it is for nothing sometimes. Let's sidetrack to a little place called Buffalo, New York:

BUFFALO, NY, home of such celebrities as Ani DiFranco, Goo Goo Dolls, Boss Hogg of Dukes of Hazard, the king munchkin in Wizard of Oz, and many more. A fairly large city with a large college population of approximatly 100,000 students during the school year. The job market is terrible, and the economy suffers because of it. Buffalo was number one in the following categories within the last five years:

  1. Murder Rare per capita

  2. Syphallis

  3. Clamydia

  4. AIDS


"What a great and beautiful city!", you say? I disagree. We play music in this town that we sometimes feel stuck in and it can be one of the most depressing moments in anyone day. With all that knowledge of the city and it's surroundings, no one goes to local concerts. No one buys merchandise. No one supports local business. People complain about the economy being bad, but you can only give for what you put in.


We played a show recently in Grove City, PA, and it was one of our most memorable concerts that we have ever played. We got such good feedback from the fans and from the bands that we played with, that we went home that night, raving about how great of a show we had just played. The kids there came up to us all night long and told us how good we were and how much they enjoyed our set and talked to us about musicianship and all sorts of stuff that we pride ourselves on as a band. Grove City Pennsylvania, Minuet loves all of you.


Two days after this set, we played back in our hometown of Buffalo with 3 other local bands. Lemuria, a rockin' trio, Hue of Two, an Anniversary circa "Designing a Nervous Breakdown" type sound, and The Failures' Union, a 90's rock outfit that certainly does rock. I don't think that there were more than 30 kids at that show. All locals and all friends of tons upon tons of kids, not many of which showed up. I just don't understand how this works. How can one city be so different from all other cities? On the other hand, I cannot blame our present-unsucessfulness only on that. Now we get to the independent record companies section of this rant:


We are on a small record label that is home to two Buffalo bands currently, but was in charge of a series of other bands in the past. When I talked to the label owner, a close personal friend of mine, he said that he would get us a press kit and get us some reviews and get us some writeups. This was about a year ago and we haven't gotten a single part of that deal. I have given him about 50 copies of our album to be sent out for reviews and to be sent to the distribution center so that our CD can be bought online, I think that they are still in his house. If you are in a small, local band, I might just go and say do everything yourself. That way, you will know what get's done and what needs to get done. You don't have to worry about getting in contact with people to make sure that they do their job.


I do this ranting and raving not only for myself, but so people can see it and know how things work and what you can do to change what's going on. If you are in any of these situations, then you know just as well as I, that things need to be done. Although you and I might not be able to save dying economies, together, we can save our music.


Buffalo Sucks, Pennsylvania Rocks!

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