My new album, Music People, is now available on bandcamp and streaming services.
The overarching theme of the album is music and people. More specifically, it is about how music cannot be separated from people, and takes on characteristics of the social milieu in which it is created and distributed. The power dynamics that are created between those trying to profit from other people’s naive career aspirations, or between popular musicians and enthusiastic fans, often play out in ways that can make music itself become distasteful. I’ve known multiple people who have had to abandon music due to associated trauma they’ve suffered. This is something I can’t imagine.
Perhaps the preponderant thread throughout the album is misogyny in music. Musicians who we may greatly admire for the music they create are nonetheless products of the society to which they belong. Capitalist society is patriarchal, and so misogyny is not only reflected in popular music, but music also serves to further entrench and normalize misogyny. It isn’t only about women and sex, though. It is true of most social and political characteristics of our favourite artists. People who become so focused on one thing – in this case music – to the detriment of developing themselves holistically will disappoint us if we expect them to be more than just good musicians. Musicians should not be made heroes simply for making good music.
Music people are people who play music, or regularly attend shows, are always deepening their knowledge of music. Everybody likes music, but some maybe do more than others. But as aptly titled as this album may be, I had trouble naming it. The working title was simply People. The reason for this is a bit convoluted. The outline of what this album would become was written in a burst of inspiration I had one afternoon after reading a long and detailed article about one of my favourite musicians consistently being a creep over his decades-long career. Reading the article, I was reminded of a song of his that always made me feel uncomfortable. The song was a graphic re-telling of some of his earliest sexual encounters, and was curiously named “Dogs.” Not only did I find the song uncomfortable to listen to, I also found the title puzzling. Is he referring to the girls in the song as dogs? Although the discomfort that the song provoked in me lingered, I mostly ignored it, and focused on the songs I enjoyed. But after reading this damning article, I started to think of that song and its title again. Whether or not ‘dogs’ was meant as a description of the girls referred to in the song, it was clear from the article that he didn’t think of women in much higher regard than dogs. Women aren’t dogs, of course; they are people. Hence the working title.
When it came time to finalize the name of my album, Music People seemed like a better option. People was a little too broad, I thought. Music People felt a bit clumsy, but at least has didactic purpose. The album is about music and people, and music people. In addition to the reflections on misogyny in music, I also expanded on this theme to contemplate other complications that come from social pressures and expectations in a profit-driven world, and about my own insecurities in being a musician. I started writing songs when I was very young, around 9 or ten years old. I attribute this to the fact that I had an older sister who played in bands. I didn’t know how to play any instruments at the time (I still don’t really, unless the MPC is an instrument), but I would sneak into her room when she was out and play with her guitar, eventually creating my own primitive version of tablature and lyric writing. I went on to start my first band when I was around 12. The reason I bring this up is because, although I find it impossible to definitively say what my motivations were at the time, I have to assume that all of the other baggage that came with making music later on in life were completely absent. It wasn’t about a career or being famous, it wasn’t about being attractive to potential mates, it wasn’t about being cool. Sure, I would ‘play’ music, like one would play street hockey, sometimes pretending that I was in front of a huge adoring crowd in the same way I might pretend to be on the ice at Winnipeg Arena when I scored a goal in street hockey. But what I’d like to think is that I was simply driven to write my own songs by a pure love of music.
Of course, there may be deep unconscious motivations to someone’s interests. Music was an important part of my family life growing up. Maybe there was an unconscious desire to be loved which drew me to music. Maybe I was unconsciously reasoning that if my family loves music, if I make music, then I will be loved. Who knows? Although, I do seem to remember sitting down to watch hockey for the first time as a very young kid specifically to spend time with my dad. But is that even a real memory?
Nothing’s pure, I suppose. It just goes to show you that we can’t separate music from all other other parts of being human. Regardless, the final message I hoped to leave the listener with this album is that music is very important, but there is more to life. People are more important than music. Or maybe, there is no music without people. So, let’s treat each other better. It will make for better music.