Category Archives: Writing

Music Startups Succeed Because of Passion, Not in Spite of It

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The Lead-up

Full disclosure: I am a music startup founder. 

Right now my earbuds are in, and my music is turned up so loud I can feel my spine shaking. Not because I’m angry or sad, but because I’m determined. I’m determined to put to rest the jaded notions that surround music startups, even if it takes me more than one post to do it.

I read an article on Medium today that postulated that part of the problem with music-tech startups is the passion which those music-tech founders have for their products or services. The piece concluded with this sentence: “Passion is great, but in the end, it often fades.” False.

The article, though written I’m sure with the best of intentions at shining a light on the challenges of music startups in the tech arena, is fraught with generalizations and assumptions, none of which are good to have for an objective point of view. The piece referenced a talk from Google User Experience Researcher Tomer Sharon, using it to bolster the premise that “music startups go at it about all wrong” (of course I’m taking some creative license here, but that seems to me to be the basic paraphrase of the piece).

In his talk which the piece points to, are six main points about executing the wrong plan, and how this dynamic seems to plague numerous founders. By the author’s own admission, the talk wasn’t music startup-focused, and the resulting analysis is just a serious of personal views. The application of these points to the large deadpool of failed music startups is understandable. After all it makes sense to look at a slew of failed projects and calculate the correlation and causation of their respective deaths. However, the piece takes too much latitude in my opinion, and shines a shadow on all future music startups for the sake of bolstering a (misleading) argument in the present.

Statement admitting most everything that follows is personal opinion.

Statement admitting most everything that follows is personal opinion.

The (Asserted) Problems and the Responses

Here are my responses to the six points in the talk, and subsequently in the article (the asserted points are paraphrased for the sake of simplicity:

Asserted Problem #1. Founders assume that their personal struggles are mirrored by a larger struggle that the world needs a remedy for (which the author admitted is something that does happen). Further, most people don’t care as much about music; most everyone besides you and your music friends is essentially a casual listener, and thus an insignificant statistic and/or demographic.

Statement asserting that mostly no one cares about music.

Statement asserting that mostly no one cares about music.

Response #1. In many areas, and in music as well, there are problems that avid fans/users identify that other, “more casual users/listeners,” might not identify until they can see an improvement (the proverbial before and after picture). Not every identification of a problem can or needs to come from a “casual” user. Sometimes it takes a trained and experienced eye to understand and be able to identify something as broken and to be able to innovate a way to fix it.

This has nothing to do with the passion that music startup founders have for music. It has to do with their ability to dissect an industry that they have come to know better than most, and be able to see room for innovation within it. The generalized statement that “most people don’t care as much about music as you do” is misleadingly false.

It first assumes that one (the founder) cares too much about music, or is in same way too in love with music so as not to be able to strategize accordingly. Secondly, it presumes to know what the music founder has in mind for an innovation, and already moves to the assumption that such an innovation will fail. And lastly, it presumes to generalize peoples’ unique affections for music without citing any real statistical proof.

People do care about music—in fact they care a lot. That’s the reason that Napster was such a snafu in 2000, and the reason that the music space will be the next crowded arena as numerous companies try to cut a niche in the space. People do care, though with each person at a varying degree, how can one possibly know that “most people don’t care as much as you do[?]”

Asserted Problem #2. Startup founders seek validation from friends and family, who tend to be biased.

Response #2. This is a problem that all startups face, not just music startups. The piece’s assertion that founders of a music startup essentially only congregate with similarly “music obsessed” individuals presumes to know the particular group dynamics of every music startup founder.

Statement asserting that "music people only congregate and seek feedback from other music people."

Statement asserting that “music people only congregate and seek feedback from other music people.”

I am a music startup founder, but my social circles are filled with people who populate the music, tech, theater, science, medical, and legal fields. Therefore, to reduce my social circles down to individuals who “think like I do” is fairly pandering and presumptuous.

Asserted Problem #3. Listening to users rather than observing their behavior can lead to disaster, as it can lead to building something people say they want, as opposed to something they will actually use.

Response #3. Much like point #2, this is a conundrum that plagues all startups, not simply music-related ones. Therefore, it should be relegated to the list of startup mistakes to avoid, not used as a reason to forego building a music startup.

The author’s use of the company Jukely as a buttress for the argument actually brings into question the author’s own view of the music industry. The analysis is filled with wild generalizations like “[t]he live music audience [is mostly] made up of people in their twenties” and that “many people [can’t stay out late and see music because] they have a career and kids to think about.”

Statement asserting that the only relevant music-goers are in their twenties.

Statement asserting that the only relevant music-goers are in their twenties.

Statement presuming to know the career and family dynamics of music-goers.

Statement presuming to know the career and family dynamics of music-goers.

The former is false because it’s a gross generalization (and assumption, for that matter), of the age-range of all music-goers everywhere, failing to take into account different music scenes, tastes, geographical dynamics, or any number of other factors. The latter is negated (and thereby false) because it presumes to know the intra-familial and career dynamics, realities, and responsibilities of all music-goers everywhere. As a result, the whole analysis can’t be put forward in any sort of objective way, and must therefore be taken as a matter of opinion, not a matter of fact.

Asserted Problem #4.  Most music startups don’t test their riskiest assumptions.

Response #4. This entire point negates itself because it purports to know every assumption that every music startup has, and every failure that came as result of ignoring those assumptions. Again, gross over-generalization is the culprit here.

In the midst of arguing point #4, the author makes a bold statement that I can personally bear witness to as wholly false. The author writes: “The other risk startups take when entering the music space is that they simply don’t know anything about the music business.” I am a music startup founder, and I have spent nearly a decade in the music industry.

Statement asserting that music startup founders know nothing about the music industry.

Statement asserting that music startup founders know nothing about the music industry.

Though the author does make a good point—that the “launch first, ask questions later” approach isn’t suited well to the music industry—the point is negated by the assumption that all music startup founders are simply overzealous music fans with no understanding of the inner workings of the music business. I for one take offense to that.

I was in a band in high school, and after graduating, took a gap year before college, during which I was a music journalist. I continued my journalism well into my college career, even as I simultaneously ran a radio show and conversed with artists daily. In fact, I had press access at Warped Tour in 2012 precisely because of the connections I’d made and things I’d learned during my tenure as a journalist and DJ. All of these experiences and understanding are what I draw on every day to help formulate the best decisions for my music startup.

Me on my show, Underground Takeover

Me on my show, Underground Takeover

Me with: Those Mockingbirds (top left), Bloody Diamonds (top right), The Steppin Stones (bottom left), Sunshine & Bullets (bottom left)

Me with: Those Mockingbirds (top left), Bloody Diamonds (top right), The Steppin Stones (bottom left), and Sunshine & Bullets (bottom right)

Me at Warped Tour 2012, with: June Divided (left), The Nearly Deads (middle), Might Mongo (right)

Me at Warped Tour 2012, with: June Divided (left), The Nearly Deads (middle), and Mighty Mongo (right)

Asserted Problem #5. Music startup founders become obsessed with can I build it, and lose sight of should I build it.

Response #5. Again, this is a problem that all startups must contend with. It seems that the author takes the most general points of avoidance made to most and/or all startups and sets them up as tools to bolster an argument that takes aim at music startups specifically. But in reality, if these are simply more general avoidances (seeing a pattern here?), then they have no place in this argument anyway, and are thus negated by their own generalization.

Asserted Problem/Response #6. The author actually doesn’t actually make a point #6. I assume it was meant to be taken or gleaned from the concluding paragraphs, but all that is left at the end of the piece is more generalizing. Statements like “[t]he music tech business is a graveyard littered with startups that seem cool at the time, [but no one wants or needs]” and “[the music founders] all went to SXSW, and lit some money, and crashed and burned a few years later” are more presumptuous than perhaps anything else in the piece.

Screen Shot 2015-04-30 at 8.14.56 PM

Statement asserting that music startup founders just go to SXSW and build companies no one wants.

The former of the statements asserts that no music founder could ever possibly create a music app or service people want/need, and the latter elevates SXSW to the pinnacle of godhood in the realm of music festivals. Yet if the author was familiar with the trends and grumblings that go on below the surface, then it would be understood that SXSW has in fact become sour to many independent music fans in recent years, as it leans further towards a mainstream agenda.

The last paragraph in particular is annoyingly pandering; its tone and diction betray a bitter and jaded writer using generalizations to bolster arguments of arrogance and assumptions.

The Last, False Sentence

Which brings us back to the last sentence yet again: “Passion is great, but in the end, it often fades.” Clearly the author is surrounded by other jaded personalities who forgot (or perhaps never knew) why most people get into the music business in the first place. It’s not about being the next Led Zeppelin or being rich and famous (though it’s fun to entertain fantasies); it’s because our passion is visceral—a part of us that we can’t turn off and on at will. It just exists as a nagging need, like the need to breathe when we wake up in the morning.

Passion can transform or ebb, but it rarely fades in the way that the author asserts it does. In the end, many of us in the music industry chose this business not because we wanted to solve some major problem (not at first); we chose it because it speaks to us in a way few other things do. That passion doesn’t fade. If anything, it gets stronger with every subsequent experience.

Artists Live On

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It always sucks when bands break up and artists move on to new projects. As music fans, we find ourselves so drawn to some artists because they speak to us on such deep levels. We them as extensions of ourselves, which makes their breakups all the more palpable and disappointing.

It’s an unfortunate reality of being in the music business that I’ve experienced this more times than I care to count. Many nights a band will come on my playlist, and I’ll find myself thinking, “damn, if only they were still putting out new material.” It’s a yearning for more of something that you love, and a deep desire to see what other creative heights they’re capable of reaching.

And yet, through others, these artists live on. I went to an event tonight at my brother’s high school, and found myself talking to a couple of his friends who shared my music taste. When I asked one of them if she’d ever heard of a few particular bands, she told me no, but that she’d be interested in hearing them. Later, after I got home, I had my brother send her a link to this band’s music video from a few years ago. According to my brother, she loves it and is asking how she can get her hands on the full album.

Things like that remind me every day why I continue to do this, even when some of my favorite artists break up and move on to new things. There is always a new audience, up and coming, curious and hungry for something they’ve never heard before. That sort of curiosity and enthusiasm is one of the reasons I love this industry so much. This music never dies. It continues to play and reach new people every day, who are eager to hear it, and pass it on. Introducing someone to something they’ve never experienced before, and see their eager grasp for it—there’s no thrill like that. Man, what a rush.

The Major Labels Are Not Reestablishing Their Dominance

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The Misleading Statement

A couple weeks ago, Forbes ran an article detailing how the major record labels were taking their “revenge” on the current landscape by making “strategic partnerships” with music services to reestablish their dominance. This was a very bold statement. Here’s why it’s misleading, and essentially false.

The major record labels (the Big Three, Warner Music Group, Universal Music Group, and Sony) are indeed striking deals with music services like Spotify, Rdio, and SoundCloud, but these deals don’t signal what the article asserts that they do. The reality is that the majority of the label-service partnerships revolve around licensing rights and royalty payments, an already broken system that will continue to feel squeezing pressure as we move further into the digital age.

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What the major label industry really looks like; The Big Three

What the major label industry really looks like; The Big Three

The article focused on the labels’ calculated move to reassert their control as gatekeepers by using their access to artist content as a leveraging technique. This is true, and is completely expected; the labels are doing what they can to hold onto what power they have left. But the reality of the situation is that this isn’t a new move; it’s a rehashing of the same dynamics that the labels have relied on for years. This is exactly why they’re not “taking revenge” on anything or anyone.

The Ironic Voodoo of Ignoring the Middle

As much as they would like to believe they still hold the power they once did, the major labels need to acknowledge that their ability to deem music as “good” or “sellable” is essentially irrelevant in the grand scheme now. It’s lost a certain sheen of relevance because they’re no longer the only deciding force out there to dictate the music the gets made or played. Now, the power of choice and reach comes to and from anyone with an internet hookup and a laptop. Ergo, though they may try to deny it, the major labels are gatekeepers no more.

So here’s where the ironic voodoo comes in: major music streaming services like Spotify and Rdio sign licensing deals with the major labels because they think that’s the only way to survive in the music landscape, and the major labels license their music because they essentially see no alternatives at the moment. Simultaneously though, both sides ignore those artists who fall in the middle: the independents (who, by the way, make up a massively growing market). Thus they are dismissing today’s independent artists who might be major underground sensations tomorrow. SoundCloud used to be a happy place for the independents. Then even that changed when they signed a deal with Warner and began seeking out deals with the other major labels.

The Punch: The Percentage Dynamics People Ignore

I wrote here why independent artists will eventually begin to move away from SoundCloud. What I didn’t focus on at the time, and precisely what the Forbes article glazed over, are the percentages of these streaming companies that are owned by the major labels. Beyond my argument regarding SC and Warner, the Forbes article noted that Warner owns 5% of SoundCloud, which it acquired in the streaming service’s latest funding round (and also which it acquired at about a 50% discount from what other investors paid).

That’s not all though; all of the Big Three collectively own about 10-20% of other streaming services, such as Spotify and Rdio, as well, and Universal jumped on a 13% stake in Beats before Apple snapped them up. (And this doesn’t take into account all the “360 deals” that are taking place).

Thus, we have the major labels, who control the licensing that these streaming services depend on, owning parts of the streaming services themselves. Essentially they can bully the services into driving towards what’s best for their artists with the power to pull their licensing from said services if they don’t comply, thereby draining them of their lifeblood. Doesn’t sound like a pyramid scheme to me at all… Oh wait, yes it does.

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Major Label Percentage Ownerships of (some) Streaming Services

Major Label Percentage Ownerships of (some) Streaming Services

Here’s what it means in the bigger picture: the major labels are gobbling up these stakes to preserve their roles as the gatekeepers of the musical landscape, and to possibly make a grab at the distribution arm for their music. Despite the fact that this is working for them for the moment, it most certainly does not mean that they’re reestablishing their dominance over the music landscape. This matters for two main reasons:

  1. It underscores the reality that the labels aren’t really coming up with any new tricks; they’re just rehashing the same ones again.
  2. It proves that assertions of “equal opportunity” for independent artists on streaming services like Spotify and SoundCloud are basically false.

Why Warner Now Holds Leverage Over SoundCloud

With its 5% stake in SoundCloud, Warner will clearly attempt to steer the service’s vision and attention towards the the artists it represents, and whose interests it has at heart. Why would it not? That’s exactly what I would do. It’s not personal for Warner, it’s just business. But what it means for independent artists on SC is something much bigger: that they will no longer be the focus of the service, and again will need to contend themselves with scraps of attention after the major label(s) is (are) done feeding.

Look at it from the point of view of Warner: why would they contribute to SoundCloud’s latest round, snapping up 5% (even at a 50% discount) if they weren’t going to leverage that to their advantage? The point is they wouldn’t because they’re going to do exactly that.

soundcloud_logo

SoundCloud logo

Now that Warner has control (to some extent) over the new distribution channel, SoundCloud, as well as the music that SC wants to license (i.e. the lifeblood of any music service), it holds all the leverage in the relationship. Essentially if SC doesn’t steer its model towards what would benefit Warner’s artists, Warner can decide not to renew its licensing agreement with the service, thereby cutting out SoundCloud’s feet from under it. And the same is true with the other labels and streaming services. The labels are worming their way into controlling not only of the material for distribution (the music), but the distribution channels as well. As a result, we end up with the same concentrated power dynamics and gatekeeper power-plays as we had before.

Squeezing Models of the Past

Yet, easy though it may be for the major labels to dig into their deep pockets and purchase stakes in these streaming services hoping to once again gatekeep the music landscape, it is nonetheless not the same game they are used to playing. It’s now much easier for any music startup to get into the streaming or downloading service—and thus become a new source of distribution for artists. This means that the probability for the major labels to bottleneck and control the distribution channels is actually much smaller, particularly when it comes to artists and services that don’t focus on major label content, but rather independent dynamics.

For all their “strategic partnerships” and licensing/royalty practices, the major labels are not taking revenge or “reestablishing their dominance” over anyone. They’re still playing catch-up, and will continue to do so as long as their business model revolves around the obsolete (and completely unfair) royalty paradigm. Realistically speaking, the majors are playing a losing game: they’re no longer essential for artists to find fanbases or have exposure—the internet’s taken care of that. Independents can now crowdfund themselves, as well as make their own way in the live arena sans any “360 deals” with labels.

Perhaps the most telling part of the Forbes article came in the last sentence. One phrase pretty much summed it all up: “By looking forward, while squeezing the models of the past…” The rest is irrelevant. Even Forbes knows that the major labels’ models are outdated and like squeezing water from a stone. That begs the question: if they know, and we know, why don’t the major labels seem to get it?

Rediscovered Appreciations

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I went to see my brother’s semester high school play tonight. The performance was a mix of musical theater numbers and spoken word pieces spanning a number of genres. With only about 12 students participating, I was impressed and intrigued by the amount of work each student had to put in to cover multiple characters.

Yet as I sat in the dark theater, what really started occurring to me between numbers from Rent and Fiddler on the Roof was just how much I knew about the musical theater pieces; and how much I didn’t know.

Though I’ve always loved creative sorts of things, I was never much one for musical theater. I never hated it—but I never loved it. I was always somewhat ambivalent, happy to enjoy the music I liked, and dismiss the parts that bored me. Tonight, however, some of those same pieces that I may have dismissed years earlier came back to me in a different light. And even ones I’d liked before—somehow I found myself rediscovering an appreciation that seems to have been dormant for some time.

I suppose that we never know what exactly we like and don’t like because those things can change so drastically and so rapidly. Appreciation for something is a process just as much as is the production of it. Sometimes—as with that production—that appreciation can take years to develop and catalyze in a way that becomes concretely apparent to us. In that time, many times we pay it no heed. But at the moment that it becomes clear in an instant, it seems to have come out of nowhere. Perhaps it’s not that it came out of nowhere, but that it took more time to realize something’s potential and worth.

Too Much of a “Personal Journal”?

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As I write more and more of these posts, I’m noticing that they’re becoming more personal. Of course there are still those posts which are more hard-hitting news-wise, but still some days I find myself tackling new subject matter like philosophy, history, sociological experiences, and even writing in general. Though I might have resisted this trend in previous years and dismissed it too much as “personal journal” dynamic unfit for a public blog, it seems more appropriate now than ever.

When I zoom out and look at the big picture dynamics at play, I can begin to see trends at play I might have missed upon my previous dismissals. Things begin to play out in new contexts, and as thought processes are laid over one another, they begin to underscore details that otherwise might have gone unnoticed.

We can’t be trained to think like this initially, no matter how much we wish we could be, or how much we try. This thought process and worldview is only something that comes from the experiences that time gives to us, and our motivation to place those experiences over one another and look at the picture which they reveal when we do so. Bigger pictures appear every day, and if we have the right set of lids up to look at them, I’m beginning to understand the broader dynamics and trends which we will be able to discern.

A Little Struggle

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The goal to write every day isn’t as enchanting as it was a few weeks ago. On days like today, its become a struggle just to complete a post.

Yet I don’t think this is because of writer’s block, or because writing every day is a burden on my schedule. Rather, I think it’s because writing every day has become so easy that it contributes some days to a feeling a languid procrastination; a thought process of: I’ll write later in the day, and it’ll be fine.

It doesn’t make me lazy to decide to write later in the day; some days it’s been the only time I’ve had a moment to collect my thoughts. But I am realizing that the urgency of putting pen to paper (so to speak) dwindles some days by the evening time. In so many ways, I need “the struggle” to keep pushing words out because the urgency becomes about the goal I’ve set for myself. I’ve become so entrenched in what I’m doing, that I don’t want a day to pass without finding a moment to write.

This struggle isn’t something that I run from, though. It seems to provide just the right amount of flame for me (at least in current moment). I’ll see how things progress, but for now, the struggle aids me in completing my goal every day. Maybe a little struggle is a good thing.

Subjects Too Long for Blog Posts

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I suppose by now it should be normal for me to understand that not every day will bring a super-intense topic to post about. It’s less about laziness or lack of subject matter, I think, than about the time it would take to address certain topics.

Legal stories which I see in the news, for example, always catch my eye. I’m quite fascinated by the practice of law and legal philosophy, by the prospect of writing blog posts about such things simply doesn’t seem practical. The very essence of law resides within the confines of deeply-researched and well-thought out arguments—clearly not fodder for shorter length blog posts.

Philosophy in general, too, is something I think about quite often, but which eludes usefulness as a blogging subject. It’s much too amorphous a concept to be siphoned down to a few short paragraphs, and thus makes little sense to try and tackle. Perhaps there is indeed a good way to conjecture upon these subjects in a cleanly digestible fashion, but up until now, I haven’t been able to identify it.

This Sexism Shit Is Really Getting Old

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I went with my mom today to pick up our car; one of the seats needed some material repair, so naturally we brought it to a place that specializes in car upholstery. As we’re paying the upholsterer, my mom and I get to talking with him about music. As there were no other customers at the moment (it was a small shop, and he was the sole proprietor), we shot the breeze for a minute and it was cool. Then he said something that pissed me off.

He made mention of the fact that we was a Rolling Stones fan, to which my mom noted that she’d never been much of a Stones fan (as it happens, I’m not a huge fan of them either). Not in an accusatory way; just a matter-of-fact way noting that she didn’t know too much about them because of that. This was what followed:

Upholsterer: Yeah, lemme guess, you probably like all those women musicians.

Mom: Excuse me?

Upholsterer: Yeah, like Carole King and all that shit.

Mom: Umm, fuck no. I used to be a drummer in high school. I saw KISS and Def Leppard last summer.

Upholsterer: [silence]

Now to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with liking Carole King, nor was my mom combative in her tone. She’s good that way; she knows how to play things off without upsetting anyone, but also without getting walked all over. But that interchange really ticked me off.

The sheer presumptuous nature of the guy’s comments, combined with the clear sexism (it really wasn’t hard to see where he was going), pretty much dampened the mood for me. I was ready to leave after that. Though I’ve unfortunately encountered sexism in my professional space, seeing it unfold in front of my eyes still always shocks me.

I give my mom a lot of credit for not burning any bridges; she was way calmer than I would have been. It peeves me immensely though to see someone like her—Ivy League-educated, in this day and age, successful and personable—exposed to backwards thinking like that. I’m sure anyone who’s ever experienced some degree of sexism will agree.

In the end, all I can say is that I’m super impressed with how she carried herself through what appeared to me to be a potentially embarrassing and combative situation. That’s really the thought process I came away with. That, and that we really need to do better with educating backwards-thinking people, because this sexism shit is really getting old.

 

Today It Was Sunny and Hailing in Atlanta

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It’s funny how some days you plan on writing one thing and then move to another unexpectedly. Perhaps the most intriguing part about it is how you come to the second though process almost as quickly as you remember coming to the first. Today was one of those days for me.

I had originally intended to write my post today on another music-related news piece, but was side-tracked by something a lot more mundane: the weather. While not the most brilliant of subjects to use for smalltalk, I was nonetheless struck by the power with which the weather in Atlanta commanded my attention today.

Atlanta isn’t exactly known for extreme weather; not in the sense that Boston has blizzards of Miami has hurricanes. Today though, the cloudy morning skies turned dark gray around 3:00 PM—right before the downpour of hail started. Needless to say I was caught off guard. Not so much because of the hail (we do have hail in Atlanta from time to time in the spring), but because of the speed with which it suddenly changed to sun after about 20 minutes. The tornado warning I got on my phone was made all the more comical by the light shining through my blinds.

And what side-tracked me the most? It made me miss Amsterdam—and my time there—so much. Anyone who’s ever been to The Netherlands will tell you that Dutch weather is a clusterfuck of indecisive bouts of precipitation and wind. It literally is sunny one minute and hailing ten minutes later—sometimes the hail came down as the sun was bright and out. That’s what today’s hail-and-sunshine mixture made me miss: the time I spent walking along those canals and drinking black coffee. Ironic, isn’t it? The affects that weather can have on us even years after it’s passed. Go figure.

The Making of a Music Lover

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Happy Birthday Mom and Dad

Today was my parents’ birthday. Yes, they both have the same birthday. So as I was busy writing the traditional birthday post on their Facebook walls this morning, I started thinking about how my parents shaped not only my life (duh), but how they’ve made me so much of who and what I am (a die-hard music lover and artist). I began to really take a moment to remember just how my parents each played a role in my growth not simply as their son, but as someone who is (more or less) forever tied to the world of music. And the more I thought—the more I remembered—the more I really began to see just how much of an impact they had on me in that arena as well. In fact, it’s an impact they continue to have every day.

Induction

I suppose my induction into the world of music took place in my youth, but it really geared up around the time I was 10. That’s when my real education began. It was because of my parents—what they introduced me too was lightyears ahead of most any and everything my peers had in their CD players (yes, we still used those back then). It began, then ramped up—and then I never looked back.

My Dad gave me what I will always refer to as my first Big Five: The Beatles, The Kinks, The Who, The Doors, and Cream. Some people hear The Who’s “Baba O’Riley” and think of CSI: NY; I just think of my Dad. From there, it was just a hop and a skip to Jimi Hendrix, Jefferson Airplane, and Jethro Tull. I vividly remember hearing Cream’s “Sunshine of Your Love” for the very first time; I’d dozed off on the couch when he popped the CD in the player. I heard that Jack Bruce bassline, sat straight up, and said “what is THAT?!”

From Mom I got more of a taste from the ’70s; Led Zeppelin, Queen, Fleetwood Mac…and metal. I actually wouldn’t discover until more than a decade later just how into metal my mom actually was. KISS and Def Leppard were favorites, so I guess it shouldn’t have surprised me when she asked if I’d go see them in concert with her last summer. And so we did.

Me, Mom and my brother Josh at KISS and Def Leppard last summer

My brother Josh, Mom and me at KISS and Def Leppard last summer

“Mom, I’m Gonna Start a Band”

My parents took me to my first concert. And not a Backstreet Boys show either. My parents took some friends and me to The Masquerade in downtown Atlanta (google it, it’s still around and still a popular venue). We saw Bowling for Soup. Don’t laugh; they rocked and kicked ass. In fact, I’ve gone on to see them almost 10 times since then, and more than once my Mom has gone with me.

I’m not sure many parents would even drive their kids down to Masquerade, let alone take their kids to a show there. It’s not exactly PG; Masquerade is a real venue, complete with people full of tattoos, piercings, sweaty, jumping, and rocking out.

Around this time—my 13th birthday—I got a knockoff Fender guitar starter pack. Pretty much the next sentence out of my mouth one morning was, “Mom, I’m gonna start a band.” And I did. My buddy got the same starter set, and we set out to conquer the world. I loved that guitar; I still do. It reminds me of my roots.

My first guitar, and still one of my first loves

My first guitar, and still one of my first loves

New and Different Tastes

My parents are such lovers of music that it was just as valid to them to hear me say I wanted to be a rockstar as saying I might want to be a doctor or lawyer. It was natural, and I believe that because their love of music extended well beyond what they were familiar with, they could understand my obsession with something that spoke so deeply to me.

While other parents continued to find comfort in their Zeppelin and Beatles albums, my parents took a trip with me through my teen-year discoveries; Simple Plan, Sum 41, Yellowcard, My Chemical Romance, and Eve 6 were just as valid and exciting to them as Fleetwood Mac or The Who. In fact, I saw Eve 6 with my Dad just a couple summers ago on their 2013 U.S. tour.

Me and Dad at Eve 6's summer 2013 tour

Me and Dad at Eve 6’s summer 2013 tour (notice I’m wearing one of my Bowling for Soup shirts)

I’m not sure how many other people out there were (are) lucky enough to experience these same dynamics, but I can’t imagine too many. Most probably experienced the brush-off that so many people get. But I was lucky enough to escape that. My parents share my love of music and discovery, and that drives me every day.

Days As a Journalist and DJ

When my rockstar career ended (yes, pause for dramatic effect), I decided my next adventure would be as a music journalist. Actually, I completely fell into music journalism, but that’s a story for another day. And even as I was starting to find my way in that cutthroat industry, guess who was beside me, editing my pieces to make them tighter and better? That’s right, the parents.

And when the journalism turned to DJ-work, there was a desire to push my drive yet again. I’ll never forget the first time I was on the air on my college show in Boston, doing my broadcast with my parents streaming from home in Atlanta. They listened to the whole thing (2 hours worth), and when he called me after, I believe my Dad’s words were, “man that was so fucking cool.”

Me on my show, Underground Takeover

Me on my show, Underground Takeover

I took my Mom out last summer to a little indie show to see a band I’m good friends with. The band, mind you, is a little on the screamo side; not exactly what most people my parents’ age would be interested in listening to. But during the course of the show, what really stuck out to me was when my Mom noted, “wow, they are incredible performers.” That level of appreciation for something so far removed from her own tastes is something that I think makes my Mom so special. Many times, it’s my parents who are the first to hear the new artists I find and give me feedback. They really haven’t steered me wrong yet.

Me and Mom at an alternative/scream concert last summer

Me and Mom at an alternative/scream concert last summer

Music Entrepreneur

And now, as I’ve changed my path yet again, it’s paved and bridged by a mutual respect and insatiable love of music. Many parents wouldn’t understand their kid when they hear the words, “I think I want to be a music entrepreneur.” What does that even mean?! I’m still not totally sure, though I’m figuring it out every day. What I am sure of is that my parents are behind me yet again. They continue to help me navigate, all the while partaking in the amazing music scenes that I’ve become privy to.

So as I sit here on their birthday night, I think about how I’m thankful not only for a good relationship in general, but for a shared love of something that is and has become so important to me. Music is freedom and in it lives a certain amount of respect and love; it’s that respect and love that exacerbates the excitement of sharing new music with one another. It’s what draws us together and creates the paradigm we live in. So when I listen to Cream or The Who, I think of my Dad. And when it’s KISS or Def Leppard on the radio, I think of my Mom. Even when it’s Bowling for Soup I can’t help but think of my first concert with my parents. And I can’t look back at anything I’ve done in this business without thinking of them collectively.

I think that’s a good thing.