Why we're all here.

I am only moderately narcissistic. I am even less naïve. I am completely aware of the fact that "just because it happens to me doesn't mean it's important" - and yet - here we are. So why blog about being a musician in NYC? Why contribute to the already bulging deluge of internet missives about the "next big buzz band"? Why share dopey stories about teaching kids about music? Why bother spending time that I could be using to kiss my wife or practice guitar or - god forbid - sleeping typing at no one? Because I think I have an interesting story to tell.

I am (at the time of this writing) 31 years old - well past the age at which point musicians are "discovered" -, overweight, and generally sit precipitously on the edge of conceit and self-loathing as a musician. I sing, write songs, take great pride in my arranging and recording skills, play a number of instruments (most notably guitar, electric bass, upright bass, and piano) in New York City: a place where there are so many musicians playing every night of the week that the vast majority of the music made (save the bits that are featured in the Village Voice or Time Out) go completely unnoticed. I am a very competent - dare I say - well-above average musician, but by no means the top of the heap. The ratio of money I spend on gear, equipment maintenance, recording studios, drinks when the venue is not picking up the tab, and gas and tolls to get to my gigs to the money I make playing them is borderline irresponsible. Yet I play regularly with a few different bands, have no intention of stopping or slowing down, and am constantly on the lookout for other means to musical fulfillment.

When I am not rehearsing or playing gigs, I am paid a very good wage by the City of New York to teach Middle Schoolers in Brooklyn how to make and appreciate music. Though painfully aware of the old adage "Those who can't teach", I love the time I spend with my students and wouldn't give it up for anything. My life as a performing musician informs my every decision in the classroom and my kids, in turn, inform many of my musical decisions. My salary allows me to continue my "second life" despite the aforementioned sad ratio, yet the time I spend earning it and the long history of failed musicians "settling" for teaching often keep me from making any real headway in the world of professional performers.

I am married to one of the most patient women in the world - yet there are tomes-worth of stories about male musicians and their "old ladies"; and in all of them no one (the players or the played) looks the part of the hero. Despite her knowing about my "dual-life" and the time involved in leading it when our relationship began, my limited availability is a frequent source of frustration for her. She inspires much of the music I make, yet the time I spend making it keeps me from her side. I take her time for granted and yet speak of starting a family in the next breath (yet another instance of my wanting EVERYTHING). I love my wife unlike anything else in the world yet continually struggle to be both a good husband and a good musician. To be clear: the situation is by no means dire (lest my family and friends worry), but I think this bugs her even more than she lets on, and that makes me sad.

Like any good self-obessed artist, I am wholly engrossed by my own narrative. As a musician, a cultural consumer, and a man with a steady paycheck, I am constantly serving as music supervisor to this movie I am living - my iPod, collection of LP's, CD's, and MP3's serving as the soundtrack. The music (both new releases and musicological "digs") I listen to both informs and taints the music I play. I am in constant critical dialogue with my students about how recorded music serves as a part of our lives and the lives of others. There is so much music coming in and out of my speakers, ears, and mouth, that my wife can't keep track of the differences between Bon Iver, Bon Jovi, and Bach.

Looking back at everything I just wrote, I am thrilled to see how this all turns out - and I hope you are too. My story if rife with strife and choc full o' cognitive dissonances. I am planning to tell much of it here. I want to offer new insight into the world of a musician performing in NYC. I want to share my experiences as a NYC public school teacher in hopes of convincing the world that it is simultaneoulsy the hardest and greatest gig in the world. I want to find a way to figure out how to treat my wife like the goddess she is - and writing helps me sort shit out. I want to have a music blog like every other 25-35 year old douchebag who has an Emusic account. I want to explore how all of these ideas and circumstances conflict and connect. I want to write about it in public because this is the internet and I can. I want people to hear my story. Sure, it's a tall order, but it's a new year and anything is possible.