FOLIO
Ah, the holidays. That time of year when we put aside our petty grievances and give of ourselves, when we join metaphorical hands and share our blessings with those less fortunate, when we long for the whole damn thing to be over so we can go back to our miserable, selfish lives. As the carols waft through the big-box stores and kids vex their parents pleading for those goddamned Elves on the Shelves, the musicians around us hope for a prosperous holiday season, one that will bring many useful gifts – like guitar strings and amps and hair replacement gift certificates.
So be cool this year – give a musician friend something really useful. Here are five gift ideas for a struggling artist (read: every musician you know).
1. EGO REDUCER It’s a universal truth of the music biz: If you’re a musician, you think you are damn spiffy. If you can play your instrument well, you’re bound to have followers who hold you in high regard for your technical prowess. If you can’t play worth a damn, it’s OK because there is some numbskull who’s worse than you, and that numbskull will also hold you in high regard. And unless you resemble Gene Simmons sans greasepaint, you’re probably going to accumulate your fair share of groupies, regardless of your skill level. All of this feeds into the musician’s bottomless ego pit. So why not gift that guitar-strumming narcissist or that mirror-gazing drummer with a little Ego Reducer? It’s available in many forms, and it’s usually free. BONUS!
Simply run, on constant loop in clear view of said musician, videos of those preteen Internet prodigies on their respective instruments. Show a drummer a vid of a certain 5-year-old who plays the intro to “Hot for Teacher” flawlessly, or share with a guitarist that 8-year-old who rips “Flight of the Bumblebee” at 500 BPMs. As for the groupies, just have the musician agree not to mate with anyone after 10:37 p.m., which is like the Mason-Dixon line of drunkenness. After that hallowed hour, 98 percent of all bar denizens suffer from impaired judgment (it’s true; Google it), meaning any connection made before 10:37 should be considered valid and worthy. (In other words, it ain’t happening.)
2. A PERSONAL MANAGER There is not one single musician on the planet who understands how to manage his or her money, not one who gets how to promote “the band,” not one who has the discipline to not blow an entire night’s earnings on oddly named designer cocktails and overpriced craft beers. Enter: The Personal Manager. Though sometimes pricey, a personal manager will make certain that every dollar made goes into his private bank account, only to be doled out to the musician when gear or food is needed. He will also make certain that the musician gets to the gig on time, can find the way to the stage, and remembers all the songs in their entirety. Of course, this also means the musician will wonder where any potential earnings have gone. Ask Billy Joel. He’s still trying to locate untold millions siphoned from his coffers by his “personal manager.”
3. A PRACTICE ROOM Believe me, every musician you know needs this. (Getting them to use it is another story altogether.)
4. HEALTH INSURANCE Throw a lawn dart into a swimming pool full of musicians, and you are guaranteed to hit one without health insurance. Since most full-time musicians are self-employed, it’s a sure bet that he or she never sees a doctor for fear of exorbitant medical bills. Couple this with the fact that musicians eat crappy food, booze it up till the wee hours, play smoky clubs and often engage in unprotected sex, and you’ve got yourself a walking cesspool of viral infections, cancers and STDs. So why not purchase a health care plan for that most noble musician friend of yours? You’ll get the altruistic pleasure of helping an artist through the roughest years of his or her life, and since Obamacare covers pre-existing conditions, that rotten kidney will be replaced with a shiny new one in no time. Waiting list? PSHAW!
5. A DAY JOB If you really want to do something nice for a musician within your sphere, help them find gainful employment outside the music business. After years of banging it out on the cover-band club circuit or, worse, trying to make it as an original artist, what could be better than to kick back in a drab office, shuffling papers around for some nameless, faceless corporation in the name of financial security? Honestly, nothing beats sitting in gridlock for an hour only to clock in for some suit-and-tie pencil-pusher who can’t even remember your first name. And oh, the joys of the corporate lunch, where everyone bats around clever ideas and back-pats their coworkers. And when that paycheck rolls in, with taxes, insurance and 401K clipped off the top, you’re taking home slightly more than you were when you played “Mustang Sally” for some middle-aged rat-racers drowning their sorrows – having just clocked out of the same job you just clocked in to.
On second thought, go with the practice room.
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