It’s been a long, long time since I’ve posted anything here. In fact, since starting this blog a year ago, I’ve been woefully negligent. Other writing duties took precedence, and life circumstances distracted me. Although I write all the time, I never managed to give this blog much attention. But I’d like to try again now. I love singing jazz and I find that I am perpetually curious about the emotional, spiritual and very human experience of being a jazz vocalist. I am interested in what makes us tick. I am fascinated by our process and by the challenges we face in our own individual developments. I’ve sat with many fellow singers at vocal jams and gigs, swapping war stories, sharing struggles and delving into the bigger questions of jazz and why it owns us so completely. There are all kinds of things to think about on this groovy path we’ve chosen. Lord knows, there’s plenty to laugh at. In ramping up this blog again, I must begin with a disclaimer: I don’t know nothing ‘bout nothing. I’m just a fellow traveler, stumbling along, swinging and singing as best she can and trying to figure it out like everyone else. I don’t have any answers but I do have lots of questions and an observation or two. With that, I soldier on. If you care to join me, well that would be divine. I would be honored.
The thing that is on my mind today is perceptions. The other night when I was out and about, I ran into another singer. We chatted it up a bit, and she commented that I was one of the hardest-working vocalists around, that I seem to be gigging “a ton” and that I must be doing pretty well on the fiscal side of singing jazz. Ha! I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. God, if only it were true. As a matter of fact, this has been my slowest summer in years, and my gig calendar is looking like a sad, skinny dog these days: Droopy-eyed. Ribs sticking out. In need of a pat on the head and a nice bowl of kibble. But still, somehow she had this perception that I was slugging along much better than I indeed am. I must confess that I’ve had the same erroneous perception of other singers.
A huge part of my freelance writing gig involves publicity-related writing for the music, and more specifically, jazz business. I read and write a lot of artist bios, press advances, web copy and what have you. The purpose of a press kit is to provide information about an artist and also to paint them in as favorable and glowing light as humanly possible. Before working in this arena, I probably didn’t question many of the things that I read about other artists. I assumed that everything I was reading was probably true and like a bobble head, nodded and took it in without second thought. Sometimes I would read about the accomplishments and accolades of another vocalist, and my own sense of accomplishment would rapidly diminish. I am, after all, a middle-aged vocalist, coming into the game somewhat later than most. Could I or would I ever measure up to whatever singer I was reading about at the time? If I wasn’t careful, after reading said bio, I would begin to droop. However, I see things differently now.
I have read countless bios of singers prior to hearing them perform. Many are well written, wonderfully written and often include quotes from known and unknown persons. After reading them, I have a certain expectation of how a singer will sound or what his or her particular musical notoriety is. (The wrenching ballad….the kick-ass scat….the precise whatever….You get the picture.) I come to their performance with a certain level of expectation and have, on many occasions, been not only disappointed in what I heard but flabbergasted by the disconnection between what was written about the vocalist and how the vocalist actually sounded. One recent example involved a singer whose publicity information was full of chatter about what a keen sensibility this person has for bebop. On and on and on it went. When I saw this particular person perform, I heard not a bop line one. There was not even one note of scat. I was left to scratch my head. I have witnessed this phenomenon many times. Just to be clear, I've often read press about vocalists and have been blow away by their performances. In these instances, everything written about them was indeed true. I don't want to give the misconception that all artist bios are deceptive because that's not the case at all. But it does happen.
I must confess that in turn, I have also been guilty of manipulating words to present an image of a performer that wasn’t exactly accurate. In short, I’ve dressed up a few dogs. This has always involved performers that I’ve yet not heard, so I’m slightly off the hook. However, in most of these cases, there were enough indicators there that I knew what I was writing was window dressing and perhaps not exactly an accurate representation of the artist. Often you can tell if an artist bio is bunk by the specific choice of words. (i.e.: It was “suggested” that she sing at the Monterey Jazz Festival, not she “sang” at the Monterey Jazz Festival.) You can also tell a lot about an artist by what is omitted from the bio. It’s a tricky game. This is the art of publicity. It’s what we do. And I might add that this isn’t limited to music writing. It happens in multiple disciplines throughout the arts. This isn’t to say that I am always comfortable with it. And to put in a plug for my own credibility and ethics, if I have indeed heard a singer and/or musician perform, then anything I write about them is 100% honest and accurate. I’m not in the business of reviewing, and if I don’t have favorable things to say, then I don’t write anything. At the end of the day, I would rather support my fellow musicians and serve as an active cheerleader for the art form.
Anyway, this whole discussion isn’t so much about the ethics of publicity writing as much as it is a cautionary tale about how perceptions can trip us up. It doesn’t even have to be an artist bio or a description on a web site. Sometimes, we might notice another singer’s name on the Earshot calendar or in the local entertainment listing. We see that he or she might be playing someplace here or there and we might be quick to make assumptions about this person’s success as an artist, based solely on where they are performing. (Just as this singer I mentioned earlier had made the assumption about my making a lot of money.) Perhaps they have a new CD out, and we assume that all is good and glorious in their careers. Further, many of us vocalists are tender things and might make the mistake of believing that in the absence of that shiny new CD or a booking at the latest happening jazz joint, then our own singing gig is somehow not as relevant or evolved. In short, when we’re not careful about perceptions, we can make erroneous assumptions about other artists and erroneous assumptions about ourselves.
In November, I am recording my first CD. It’s been a long, long time coming. My musical sidekick RH has worked up some truly amazing and delightful arrangements, and I couldn’t be more excited. However, the other day I was looking at a book about the top 500 jazz vocalists in the U.S. With each page I turned, I was in shock and awe of the vocalists I was reading about and their endless accomplishments. When it comes to jazz singers, there are some true super novas out there. (In fact, some of them live among us right here in the Northwest.) It wasn’t too long before I crashed a little. I felt like a tiny insignificant speck in the universe of vocal jazz. I started to think about my age and my relative lack of chops. I started to have doubt. I began to question the worth of proceeding with an expensive recording, when I’m so abysmally outside of the pack. All of this because of one afternoon with a book!
I am an avid runner and have been running for a decade now. (Actually, I’m a bit of a late bloomer in this endeavor as well, I suppose.) Before I ran my first race, a wise and more experienced runner made the sage observation that when it comes to competitive running, it’s cool because while I will probably never be the winner or even among the top finishers (There were probably a few thousand entrants in that particular event.), I will never be at end of the line either. I remember that every time I run a race, and it seems like something that could apply here as well. Ultimately, we’re all where we are on our own musical paths and as RH says, we need not apologize for where we are in our development. It also seems important to keep in mind that nobody ever exactly arrives at that one illusory point that we define as “success”. All of us are continuing to grow, continuing to learn and continuing on our way as artists and as human beings. And in the moment of a tune….in that precise moment when the song is blasting off to we know not where, it doesn’t seem to matter how good I am or what measure of success I possess. What really and truly matters is that I love the music and that I am having fun.
The thing that is on my mind today is perceptions. The other night when I was out and about, I ran into another singer. We chatted it up a bit, and she commented that I was one of the hardest-working vocalists around, that I seem to be gigging “a ton” and that I must be doing pretty well on the fiscal side of singing jazz. Ha! I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. God, if only it were true. As a matter of fact, this has been my slowest summer in years, and my gig calendar is looking like a sad, skinny dog these days: Droopy-eyed. Ribs sticking out. In need of a pat on the head and a nice bowl of kibble. But still, somehow she had this perception that I was slugging along much better than I indeed am. I must confess that I’ve had the same erroneous perception of other singers.
A huge part of my freelance writing gig involves publicity-related writing for the music, and more specifically, jazz business. I read and write a lot of artist bios, press advances, web copy and what have you. The purpose of a press kit is to provide information about an artist and also to paint them in as favorable and glowing light as humanly possible. Before working in this arena, I probably didn’t question many of the things that I read about other artists. I assumed that everything I was reading was probably true and like a bobble head, nodded and took it in without second thought. Sometimes I would read about the accomplishments and accolades of another vocalist, and my own sense of accomplishment would rapidly diminish. I am, after all, a middle-aged vocalist, coming into the game somewhat later than most. Could I or would I ever measure up to whatever singer I was reading about at the time? If I wasn’t careful, after reading said bio, I would begin to droop. However, I see things differently now.
I have read countless bios of singers prior to hearing them perform. Many are well written, wonderfully written and often include quotes from known and unknown persons. After reading them, I have a certain expectation of how a singer will sound or what his or her particular musical notoriety is. (The wrenching ballad….the kick-ass scat….the precise whatever….You get the picture.) I come to their performance with a certain level of expectation and have, on many occasions, been not only disappointed in what I heard but flabbergasted by the disconnection between what was written about the vocalist and how the vocalist actually sounded. One recent example involved a singer whose publicity information was full of chatter about what a keen sensibility this person has for bebop. On and on and on it went. When I saw this particular person perform, I heard not a bop line one. There was not even one note of scat. I was left to scratch my head. I have witnessed this phenomenon many times. Just to be clear, I've often read press about vocalists and have been blow away by their performances. In these instances, everything written about them was indeed true. I don't want to give the misconception that all artist bios are deceptive because that's not the case at all. But it does happen.
I must confess that in turn, I have also been guilty of manipulating words to present an image of a performer that wasn’t exactly accurate. In short, I’ve dressed up a few dogs. This has always involved performers that I’ve yet not heard, so I’m slightly off the hook. However, in most of these cases, there were enough indicators there that I knew what I was writing was window dressing and perhaps not exactly an accurate representation of the artist. Often you can tell if an artist bio is bunk by the specific choice of words. (i.e.: It was “suggested” that she sing at the Monterey Jazz Festival, not she “sang” at the Monterey Jazz Festival.) You can also tell a lot about an artist by what is omitted from the bio. It’s a tricky game. This is the art of publicity. It’s what we do. And I might add that this isn’t limited to music writing. It happens in multiple disciplines throughout the arts. This isn’t to say that I am always comfortable with it. And to put in a plug for my own credibility and ethics, if I have indeed heard a singer and/or musician perform, then anything I write about them is 100% honest and accurate. I’m not in the business of reviewing, and if I don’t have favorable things to say, then I don’t write anything. At the end of the day, I would rather support my fellow musicians and serve as an active cheerleader for the art form.
Anyway, this whole discussion isn’t so much about the ethics of publicity writing as much as it is a cautionary tale about how perceptions can trip us up. It doesn’t even have to be an artist bio or a description on a web site. Sometimes, we might notice another singer’s name on the Earshot calendar or in the local entertainment listing. We see that he or she might be playing someplace here or there and we might be quick to make assumptions about this person’s success as an artist, based solely on where they are performing. (Just as this singer I mentioned earlier had made the assumption about my making a lot of money.) Perhaps they have a new CD out, and we assume that all is good and glorious in their careers. Further, many of us vocalists are tender things and might make the mistake of believing that in the absence of that shiny new CD or a booking at the latest happening jazz joint, then our own singing gig is somehow not as relevant or evolved. In short, when we’re not careful about perceptions, we can make erroneous assumptions about other artists and erroneous assumptions about ourselves.
In November, I am recording my first CD. It’s been a long, long time coming. My musical sidekick RH has worked up some truly amazing and delightful arrangements, and I couldn’t be more excited. However, the other day I was looking at a book about the top 500 jazz vocalists in the U.S. With each page I turned, I was in shock and awe of the vocalists I was reading about and their endless accomplishments. When it comes to jazz singers, there are some true super novas out there. (In fact, some of them live among us right here in the Northwest.) It wasn’t too long before I crashed a little. I felt like a tiny insignificant speck in the universe of vocal jazz. I started to think about my age and my relative lack of chops. I started to have doubt. I began to question the worth of proceeding with an expensive recording, when I’m so abysmally outside of the pack. All of this because of one afternoon with a book!
I am an avid runner and have been running for a decade now. (Actually, I’m a bit of a late bloomer in this endeavor as well, I suppose.) Before I ran my first race, a wise and more experienced runner made the sage observation that when it comes to competitive running, it’s cool because while I will probably never be the winner or even among the top finishers (There were probably a few thousand entrants in that particular event.), I will never be at end of the line either. I remember that every time I run a race, and it seems like something that could apply here as well. Ultimately, we’re all where we are on our own musical paths and as RH says, we need not apologize for where we are in our development. It also seems important to keep in mind that nobody ever exactly arrives at that one illusory point that we define as “success”. All of us are continuing to grow, continuing to learn and continuing on our way as artists and as human beings. And in the moment of a tune….in that precise moment when the song is blasting off to we know not where, it doesn’t seem to matter how good I am or what measure of success I possess. What really and truly matters is that I love the music and that I am having fun.
2 comments:
Yeah, Katy...Love and Fun- that's what life is all about. Great stuff...keep it coming please!
Thanks Jose, for sharing the grand adventure with me!
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