"I am a musician." That's my usual reply when asked what I do for a living. All through the 20 years of making my living as a musician, that reply has been met with a variety of responses - a mixed bag of disbelief, skepticism and, often times, sympathy. Twice, due to my speech impediment and occasional stutter, the querents responded with: "Wow! You're a magician, show us a trick or two."
Well, I suppose I can. On rare occasions, when the stars are aligned and I am in a flow state (very rare!), you could say that I perform magic tricks on my guitar. But where does music come from and what is it, really? It is a vibration, we can feel and hear it, but where is its source and origin? And how does the magician pull the rabbit out of the hat? The experience music puts us through is unique to everyone but its power is undeniable. Yet, it is so undervalued these days, at least to me, because so much music has been packaged and commercialised for the market.
So how does one make an honest living in a time when music has been undervalued and commercialised? I shall attempt to explain it by shedding light on the work that I do. As to whether I sold out or not, that is entirely up to you to judge and decide.
I work as a musician; more specifically, as a music arranger. In short, I orchestrate a song - a pop song mostly. When you listen to a song that I have arranged, almost 100% of the instruments are played and recorded by me. With the help of the computer, I piece it together using a variety of software and samples, programming instruments, "tricking" the listener into thinking that there's a whole band playing together in the studio. Sometimes, though, we'll go into the studio and record some real violins and cellos which have been mocked up beforehand. Other than that, everything you hear from the start till the end of the song is played, or arranged, by yours truly. That's my humble attempt at explaining what a music arranger does.
I am a cog in the wheel, part of many components that make up the assembly line for the Chinese pop music industry. There are lyricists, composers and producers, just to name a few others. We each play a part and, for that, I get paid and make a living. Am I making art, though? Am I proud of my work? Yes and no, as it really depends on which song you are referring to. For the greater part of my early career, I was in conflict with myself. I wanted to make a mark, push the boundaries and challenge the status quo. I was constantly going against the tide, swimming upstream, simply because I did not want to sell out. But you know what? Nobody really cares!
I made peace with myself a few years ago, shortly before my wife and I decided on relocating to Taipei (I am currently based in Beijing), when I came to terms with the fact that I am not an artist (at least not in this industry). Rather, I am a service provider. To use an analogy from food: when I order char kway teow (stir fried flat noodles) from a hawker, I want a plate of char kway teow. Don't give me some Neo fusion, experimental kway teow with tomato or cream sauce. If I wanted that, I would've gone to an avant-garde restaurant and paid an exorbitant sum of money. No, just give me the lard, lup cheong (Chinese sausage) and dark soy sauce. And it's the same for my industry or any other industry for that matter: I was hired to make a pop song, so make a pop song, and don't try and turn it into a self-serving experiment.
My earlier naivety was rewarded with premature hair loss and I probably deserved that. So how do I sleep at night knowing that I made yet another pointless and silly bubblegum pop song? A song that revolves around the usual fail safe, good old tried and tested chord progressions? (Mind you, I do not despise pop songs. In fact, I adore pop songs, although I can be quite a snob - my wife can attest to that. I enjoy all forms of music and there are many timeless and beautiful pop songs out there. But back to my point.) I remind myself that I am providing a service. I am a professional after all, or at least that's how I picture myself. Out of ten songs that I produce, one or two of them are really beautiful and lovely songs. And, on occasion, certain producers trust me enough and give me free rein and complete artistic freedom to explore, experiment and create something different. That gives me, dare I say, a chance to create art. That one song makes it all worth it, and that is the trade-off.
To satisfy my artistic, egocentric cravings, I run a tiny Youtube channel on the side. I make little short videos from footage shot using my phone, and I score music to the visuals. I don't do any of this to please anyone but me, myself and Irene, (sorry I cannot help it. That's my wife's name, in case you were wondering). That feeds my soul as I negotiate this unorthodox and often times, paradoxical, life of mine. A very clear line is drawn between what is work and what is art. I do not know how others deal with it but this has worked for me.
So, what is making art and what is selling out? Who's to say? Art is so subjective (although it still grates my f - -ing nerves when someone insists that Bon Jovi's "It's my life" is a Rock anthem). One may argue that it's a matter of taste - you say toh-mah-toe and I say too-may-to. But that is not the point I am trying to make. At the end of the day, I know that I am a part of a big commercial machine. To argue otherwise would be hypocritical as I am, after all, part of the conveyor belt. Sometimes, we cook great meals but most times, we cook just for the sake of having something to eat. At the end of the day, it is not always the end product or the reviews that dictates what is or isn't a great product. For me, it's a state of mind when the piece of music is created. When I get asked what I do for a living? These days, I say it proudly, confidently and without remorse. I am a musician.
Further food for thought: I shall end with two quotes by Frank Zappa and Mick Jagger.
"Art is making something out of nothing and selling it" - Frank Zappa
"It's not selling out, it is making lots of money" - Mick Jagger