Why am I broke?

Of course, you might say that if I could answer this question correctly, I wouldn’t be broke at all. Anyway, I thought it would be interesting to put down my take on this now; something of a “potted history” of my “career”. It will be fun to read this in a few years’ time.

If my childhood was anything of an indicator, I shouldn’t be broke: I got off to a flying start. Dad taught me to read, write and play chess before I started school. At age seven they insinuated that I had cheated in an IQ test because the result was off the top of the scale. Later that year I was a top academic scholar to a preparatory school. At 10 I was moved three years ahead academically. At 13 I was the first person in the history of my school to achieve Grade 8 in Theory of Music - and later that year I achieved a top academic scholarship and a music exhibition to a top English private school.

At fourteen they entered me in the National Mathematics Olympiad. I didn’t make it to the next round, but my score was at the very top of the school’s handful of select entrants - exactly equal to the score of an eighteen year old who was studying for Oxford.

As a kid I was - as they say - a high flier.

***

“Too much success is not an advantage” — Lao Tsu

By the age of about 15 I was thoroughly bored and disenchanted with education, teachers, and the repressive, arrogant, elitist all-male environment of the english private school. I must have been a sensitive child - or perhaps it was just hormones: My sole interests became playing Liszt and Chopin at the piano, listening to weird music, running cross country, drinking and chasing girls.

I was expelled from private school at 16 and never completed another education course in my life. I drifted all the more, chased more girls, went to music festivals and underground raves, and associated with musicians and other strange characters.

I lacked the self-discipline, the guidance and the teachers to pursue a career as a classical pianist.

At around 21 I drifted in and out of various cities, jobs and got into the world of electronic music. I made friendships with several musicians and had my first serious musical collaborations - with two characters who went on to become famous artists - Kenwyn House from Reef and Andy Barlow from Lamb. It was around this time that I decided that I really wanted to be a musician - despite the protestations of my seniors. I am not quite sure why they protested. Did they understand that the music world is a terribly difficult one in which to succeed? Or did they think that I lacked the convictions - or talent - and would have been better suited to a career in law?

Maybe they knew something that I didn’t - but anyway, they failed to make an impression on me. I was, as they say, a goner. I was determined to be a musician, and to “make it” at all costs.

Maybe I should have gone into law. I don’t know. I might be earning $450 an hour now instead of $25 - but it’s been a fantastic journey. As they say… no regrets.

***

I bounced around England merrily; working as a researcher for an amazing author (a historian) who had an incredible library; setting up sound systems for underground electronic music events; and getting involved for a short while with a bunch of eco-protesters who were trying to save the environment. All these things helped shape my future one way or another.

Then at 26 a random incident happened that changed my life. I met someone who said “There’s this organization Earthdance, and they need a piece of fluffy ambient music for their global link-up thing… maybe you’d be interested in submitting something?”

“Fantastic” I said, “how much will I get paid?”

“There’s no pay. It’s a charity thing in aid of Tibet.”

Here comes another one…. I thought - and was about to tell them where to shove it when my dear friend Marcus interjected: “Never forget Alex, that when you do something with a good intention, the universe is compelled to respond by sending good things your way.”

Well, it was in aid of Tibet - and I did feel that this was a cause I could get behind (despite the fact that I was… broke… and that this was yet another in an endless series of scenarios where people would attempt to get me to create music for nothing).

So I agreed. Marcus helped engineer, and Ashera did the original voice over. And I was truly surprised when I found out that the music I submitted was accepted by Earthdance - and became their track that is played simultaneously all over the world every year in hundreds of locations. Makes me laugh now…

Cut to the next scene. Founder of Earthdance also has a live electronic band called Medicine Drum. He invites me to collaborate with him on a couple of tracks on the next Medicine Drum album.

He then moved to California and got a record deal.

The next time I spoke to him, it was January 2001 and he was inviting me to fly to California. So I went for it. I ended up meeting a girl, getting married, settling in California, getting a green card… and becoming part of Medicine Drum.

I thought I was on my way. However, this was the music industry. And of all the years to show up in America, I would have to pick 2001….

***

The last seven years have been a mad scramble to try and “make it” in the music world. I’ve played hundreds of shows. Toured America and Australia. Headlined a festival in Japan. Played on massive sound systems at 3am in the scorched dust and epic landscape of the Burning Man festival. Produced nine albums. Formed another band - Alcyone - and we got a record deal with System Recordings.

Being in Medicine Drum was a lucky break. Chris had built the band up through years of work and so I hit the ground at a point where he was already playing internationally and commanding proper fees. It was immense fun and did I ever have some adventures!

When I started with MD I knew approximately bugger-all about the music industry. I was, as they say, “as green as a blade of grass.” And the music world is about as predictable as the lottery. The bands, festivals, shows and scenarios that I was involved in were typical of the lower-to-middle echelons of the music world; chaotic, renegade and often poorly managed. We did get paid - mostly - but there was no real career structure or true objectivity. There was an element of dilettante-ism to the whole thing. I was determined to succeed (and boy did I ever work hard - I practically ran myself into the ground). But I was up against forces beyond my control; and I had no real idea how to navigate in such waters. I just wanted to play my music and rock out. Suddenly I was in the Wild West and there was all this other drama in the mix.

Medicine Drum’s record label was a Virgin Subsidiary: CyberOctave - and I produced an album for them “Original Face” which got some rave reviews. But remember the famous Wired article in 2003 that said that illegal downloading was killing the music industry? Yeah, that was right before the album was released! CyberOctave was axed by Virgin as part of the “restructuring” (i.e. downsizing) that followed. The Medicine Drum album I produced was “iced” and our new reps never returned our calls. To this day I can’t get hold of copies of my own record. And Mr. Medicine Drum himself was too busy with Earthdance - now becoming a rising global phenomenon - to do Medicine Drum any more. We carried on without Chris for a while - but it was his band and so it didn’t really work. It was game over.

Alcyone came into play - and this was good for a while but in truth, I wasn’t happy. The stress and the financial battle to stay afloat were making me crazy - and turning me into a bear who was unpleasant to be around. I started to take my frustrations out on those closest to me in ways I am now totally embarrassed about. And I later found out that one promoter had vowed he would never work with me again because of the way I had yelled in his face. I believe it to be true - although I am sad to say that I don’t even remember the occasion. Alcyone struggled through what seemed like an endless succession of crappy gigs; carrying our own equipment, doing our own publicity - everything. The last straw was a packed, chaotically disorganized new years’ eve gig in LA where there was no backstage and Suzanne had to defend my gear for an hour from drunk people trying to put their drinks down on it. (in fact, ten minutes after our set finished, the entire sound system blew out with a hell of a noise because someone spilled a drink into the sound console.)

So finally, I threw in the towel. I called System recordings and told them that the band had broken up. I fully expected them to threaten legal action - we had a three album deal - but they were happy to let the contract slide.

I guess they couldn’t sell any more of our albums than we could…

***

I think in summary, the biggest mistake I made was not that I decided to be an entrepreneur musician and go my own way, but that everything I did business-wise was essentially focused on ME and what I wanted. My business, my goals, my way. I followed the old sucker line “Do what you love and the money will follow” - rather than adopting the smart business adage that if you want success in business, you must focus entirely on providing solutions, upliftment and success for other people. In other words, it is not about you, it is about your clients. At the time, I knew no better.

I’m not in my 20’s any more. I love music - but as the song says “I can’t quit you babe.. so I’m going to put you down for a while.”

So I’m taking a different tack - we’ll see what happens. It’s all an adventure into the unknown.

Anyway - I have work to do!

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