Jul. 24, 2002
Ice Cream Time

Ah, July. Month of ice cream and swimming pools, late nights and ceiling fans, platform sandals and star-shaped sunglasses. Swimsuits and cellulite. How I love thee.

I just booked a show at an ice cream parlor in Asheville, North Carolina called Sweet Heaven, and he says it’s the best ice cream in the state, and I’m going to get to go try it for myself! I love this crazy, weird singing/songwriting life. When I can manage to relax and let go of the stress of trying to make something of myself, I so enjoy it.

I read the best little treatise on the life of the independent musician on Holly Figueroa’s web site. She talks about so many of the things I’ve been thinking/wondering about as I get deeper into all of this. Sometimes it seems like there are certain rules you have to follow in this business, but I’ve found that I feel the most successful when I’m not doing anything simply because everyone else does it. I mean, it’s nice to have a blueprint to follow, but in the end, you have to do the things that fit with your personality. I’m not happy pretending to be a super-confident, swaggering type, and I’m not happy letting people walk all over me, either. In this business, honesty is not always the best policy, but it’s the one that works best for me. I can only be myself.

My job is reminding me lately of how much I value being able to be myself. There’s this corporate mentality, this idea that when you’re at work you are a position, not a person. I’ve never really been able to buy into that. People have personalities, and it’s not fair to ask them to pretend they don’t. When you’re a singer/songwriter, your job is all about your personality, and that has its downside, too, when you’re someone like Ani Difranco and suddenly people think they know you because they love your songs and your performance of your songs. I’ve always thought the Atlanta Opera had a nice balance, though that’s been changing of late. I hope we don’t get too corporate. I like being able to say what I think instead of having to nod and smile I pretend to agree with things I think are silly.

I suppose it’s the corporate world that really funds everything now, though. I went to On the Bricks last week, and it was crazy to see these huge banners with hundreds of logos on them, enough, I guess, to build that huge stage and pay those famous performers. My friends Susanne and Keith had these VIP passes which allowed us to stand in this special roped-off section and drink for free, and it was a very strange sensation to be there. I’m used to being in tiny, dingy little clubs watching bands few have heard of, hanging out with a diverse group of music lovers. It was strange to be crowded into a little pen with people of my own demographic who were all kitted out in their best "cool enough for night life but not too young for a 30-year-old fiancée" gear, screaming for Sister Hazel’s three hit songs and completely ignoring everything else they played. Freaks like me are in the minority. I always forget that.

I got my first feature-length interview in a newspaper in June, along with a very nice review of the CD; check it out here. If you like the article, e-mail Brad Barnes at the Columbus Ledger-Enquirer and tell him what a stud he is.

What’s in my stereo at home: