I don’t owe anybody anything. The work I have done on the car has made me realise that the majority of my life is still ahead of me. I have been too focussed on what has passed and what I have missed. Since I was in my late teens or early twenties, all I have been able to see are the obstacles. Since that time, I have felt like my life is over and now I am just waiting to die. As I wrote in a song when I was about 22:
“I had hoped for higher spite but other others hit, I have missed”.
That’s me saying I’ve lost direction which has lead to a lack of inspiration and passion, it’s too late to remedy, thus my life is effectively over.
And yet as I write this, I am filled with a mounting fear. I am so defined by my bitterness, and my music is so heavily infused with spite that I fear to let go and look forward positively. I hate therefore I am. My bitterness keeps me vigilant against insipid fashion, my anger fuels my war on complacency.
I have realised that the greatest source of anxiety, the largest obstacle in my mind in regards to writing and more particularly performing my music live - without which I have had less drive to write - is the prospect of logistically organising a band again. In truth, I felt like everything that went right previously was in spite of the other members. I felt like their behaviour lay somewhere between passive inaction and willful resistance.
As such I have resolved to investigate the possibility of performing live on my own. It probably means more work on the face of it, but once dealing with the herding of cats is introduced to the equation, I think that learning some software, and preparing live shows like a stage producer actually comes out looking a LOT less stressful.
Getting back to the car thing. I have three cars, though only one is currently registered. The first “Binky” is a 1964 Peugeot 404 which I paid $1000 for, the second is a 1970 Peugeot 504 which I paid $350 for, the third is a 1985/6 Peugeot 505 which I paid $700 for. I also have a factory original 1986 Peugeot 505 petrol turbo engine and gearbox waiting to go into the 505. This *rare* little set-up cost me a whopping $1700. So all up we’re looking at just under four grand. There are many interesting cars I could have, of considerably greater value than those I do have, if I hadn’t specifically chosen basic forms of employment which would allow me the time and flexibility to pursue my musical ambitions, and if I hadn’t spent every single spare cent on musical equipment, tuition, rehearsal facilities, recording studios, and everything else that goes along with it.
After considering these facts for some time, I have come to the conclusion that the prospect of making a living out of music whilst still achievable, is perhaps best seen as a potential bonus, rather than a necessary goal. After all, I don’t have kids to feed (that ain’t gonna change on my watch), and I do have a roof over my head and food in my belly. Sure more money would make life more comfortable. Perhaps with more money I wouldn’t second guess myself every time I went to turn the heater on “am I really cold enough to justify the cost?”. But at the end of the day, I’m fed and dry. Therefore, it seems a bit stupid to try to claw back any losses by selling a cd at gigs for ten bucks, or even (once I get my head around itunes) selling my songs for 99 cents a pop online. Without becoming hugely successful, any such sales are really only going to be a token compensation for the ways in which I have chosen to spend my life and money, energy and soul hitherto. What did I want out of music anyway? Oh, that’s right, I hoped to earn enough money to keep a roof over my head and food in my belly, whilst writing and producing music that spoke to others the way The Sisters of Mercy spoke to me. Therefore, in order to maximise the potential for exposure and reaching the most possible listeners, I would be better off to take the costs on the chin and provide everything online for free.
