Is It Art, or Is It Commerce?
Being in a band is weird. You play in bars. Bar owners pay you (not much!) to entertain their patrons. You play music written by other people, music that people know.
So, is it art or is it commerce? Are you really creating anything or are you just doing a job?
My cousin, Dominic, is the only one who I believe has it EXACTLY right. He formed a band over 30 years ago that was simply designed with ONE purpose in mind: entertain a bunch of drunken shore dwellers completely and utterly. No matter how low you have to stoop to do it, you do it. The result: his two-man "band" (as an aside, I don't think two people can ever really be a "band") achieved legendary status as a Jersey shore party act, and the cuz put FIVE kids through school doing what he loves. When they play a wedding, it is about a $4000 proposition, split basically TWO ways. Do the math. Awesome and impressive!
This was all a lesson learned from my other cousin, Paul (yes, we have a few musicians in the Corvino ranks), who discovered in the 1970s that playing awesome jazz music with tremendous precision was NO way to make a living. Paul did that with his partner, Jack, and they were RIDICULOUSLY good. Along with the late drummer Eddie Sterner, they were one of the best jazz acts you'll ever see. But no, playing Bye Bye Blackbird was the ticket. Paul went from slightly unknown keyboardist to Long Beach Island legend in just a few season.
And I am NOT besmirching this route: it is the simple truth and it simply works. I am proud of both of my cousins for quickly understanding that a) you can't make any "real" money in a four- or five-piece band; and b) you can't make any real money being an "artist". You have to give the people what they want, period.
That said, there is MOST CERTAINLY a place for artistic endeavor in music. I love writing songs, and I get great gratification from doing it. I've never made any money in that pursuit, but that ain't the point. I continue to do it as the spirit moves me, and I'm sure I will continue for the rest of my life.
So what does this all have to do with me, because after all, it's ALL about me, right? :-)
When my wedding/special occasion band, Black Tie Orchestra (commerce) faded in the early 2000s, I was looking for something else to do, something completely different, something involving original music. For a brief period, I played with Jeff Selby and his band, The Quixote Project. It was fun at times, frustrating at times, but I did meet a great drummer named Jim Oakley, and I brought my friend, lead guitarist Bill Hornibrook into the mix. At one of the rehearsals, I also met Lynn King. And there the seeds of the band Love Alive were formed. And let there be NO mistake: Love Alive does not exist without me: I also suggested that we add Joey (who knew both me and Billy) into the band in our second year because I knew how well that would play. It just does not happen without me, and ain't no argument there (for what it's worth).
My vision of the band was for us to play covers, but to also write, record, and strategically mix in original songs so that eventually, we would have an original music act that was a good-paying hybrid, and not your average cover "party" band. We started this project playing at Carolina Blue in Mantua Township, NJ and at The Riverview in Pennsville, NJ, both facilities owned by the legendarily cheap Cook Family. Virtually every musician in the area was well aware that they simply were NOT going to pay bands a lot of money, period. We understood this, but it didn't matter because it was not about the money at that point in time. That would come later. Instead, it was about finding an afternoon, outdoor venue that was comfortable for us. And both those places were that.
About a year or two into this, we added my friend, Joe Lam, to the mix, and things began to snowball just a bit. Joey is a great talent, and people could tell we were doing it for the love of it and having fun, and it resonated. Against all odds, we built a loyal following — not a huge following, but a loyal and decent sized following for sure. Our people appreciated our commitment to the music and to quality vocals, and to the spirit of the 1960s and 1970s.
So we recorded a CD in 2011-2012. It was called Love at 2nd Sight, and I was very, very proud of the effort. Most of the songs were re-hashed Lynn originals, but we added four new originals that I thought were well-written and good. Only problem is that the music was mostly down-beat, with only one "party rock" song (Bad Gurl) in the mix. Okay, Hi Dee Hey would also qualify, and in a strange, strange occurrence, Cousin Dom's band Secret Service began to play the song at every gig, while we NEVER played it!
The CD was well-received by our crowd, and we sold a few copies. There was artistic satisfaction, and the process of recording and producing the CD was joyful. Most of it was recorded at Lynn's rustic house in Mays Landing, and I think that atmosphere can be heard on the CD. It was a special time for the band.
Little did I know that this would be the ONLY time the band would record anything of significance, and that this moment would be, in my mind, the absolute high point of whatever creative flow we possessed.
But on we soldiered, playing the same places, the same songs, and seeing the same people. And although I LOVE all our fans and appreciate them more than words can express, a band DIES when it cannot find a new audience to thrill and new challenges to conquer. We had climbed our small hill, and we now sat at the top of it with nowhere to go but down. It then became all about the $$$, and there simply was not enough of it.
Why couldn't we find somewhere else to play? Age was a factor. Nobody wants to hire a bunch of old guys playing rock and roll, no matter how good we were. Simple fact of life is that shore towns want to attract young people, and we can't do that. Also, we are set in our ways, don't want to play until 2 AM, don't want to deal with shore traffic going down on a Friday or coming home on a Sunday, and simply don't want to be aggravated. And a shore gig would be full of just that.
Then there is the simple and inarguable fact that we are not, in fact, a party band and never will be that. I've played the shore/party game. I was playing it back in the 80s to huge, drunken crowds. It takes high energy, it takes a willingness to work and sweat your ass off, and it takes you playing ONLY the songs the crowd wants to hear and nothing else. That means party rock. And that ain't us.
So there you sit, making $130.00 per gig from the "generous" Cook's, and you ask yourself why you are spending every beautiful Sunday afternoon of the summer doing what you do. And you don't have a good answer. There are gorgeous beaches, exciting boardwalks and soft breezes to enjoy. Did I want to give all that up for $130.00 for what is in essence EIGHT hours of work? Yes, EIGHT hours. I leave the house at about 2 PM and arrive back home again at about 11 PM.
Ok, NINE hours.
If you do the math on that, you are making a rousing $14.50 per hour for your efforts. And god forbid if your family comes and spends money! At one of my last gigs with the band at Carolina Blue, I actually LOST $100.00! That is no way to spend a summer Sunday afternoon.
So at this age, at this time in my life, it was clear I had to make a change, to do something different and seek venues and situations more appropriate to my current station in life. That is, I don't wanna be hanging out in bars every stinking weekend playing loud, raucous party tunes. There is simply more to a musical life than that.
Were there other more personal aspects to my leaving Love Alive? Certainly. There were certain accusations made at various times, and certain statements of an egocentric nature that I found to be quite outside the realm of any reality I ever witnessed. And though these in themselves weren't enough to push me out, they WERE enough to help me along in my decision-making process.
The bottom line is this: the band nine years down the road is NOT the band I wanted to build back in 2008 when we started. Virtually NO original songs have been offered, and the one (very, very good) original song that we all wrote together, "Raise 'em High," has simply never been completed for reasons unknown to me.
There is sadness in this, yes. There were some VERY special moments of musical magic that we built together, times when what we were doing on stage transcended everything else. And those I will ALWAYS miss. But alas, those moments became too few and too far between, and from my view, the only direction we could go in at this point is down. Sorry to say, but that's what I feel.
So it's time to do other things. Like what, Nick? Well, first of all, I discovered a labor of love project, a Linda Ronstadt Tribute Band. For a year, I helped build this troop of stellar musicians, all of whom happen to be nice, cool, people as well. The band sounds good, looks right, and has a chance to become the best such tribute nationally. This means better venues, shorter shows, and hopefully, better money, too. There's a lot of work ahead in order to build this, but with the right people in place, I am fairly certain this will come to pass.
I still intend to do some local solo gigs if/when they present themselves. And I might also dabble in some trio work with my old buddy Bob Leonetti and our new friend, Jessy Erolin (Linda Ronstadt). The three of us harmonize beautifully together, and that is a true joy.
Yes, the chapter is over. It was a good read, but it's time to move on to the next. I do this with great joy, but also with great appreciation for the 10 years spent with Billy, Jim, Joey and Lynn building the spirit of Love Alive. I know the band won't be the same without me (how could it be the same without ANY of us?), but I'm sure they will continue on their path for at least a while. And I wish them nothing but the best.
All things must pass. Indeed.
So, is it art or is it commerce? Are you really creating anything or are you just doing a job?
My cousin, Dominic, is the only one who I believe has it EXACTLY right. He formed a band over 30 years ago that was simply designed with ONE purpose in mind: entertain a bunch of drunken shore dwellers completely and utterly. No matter how low you have to stoop to do it, you do it. The result: his two-man "band" (as an aside, I don't think two people can ever really be a "band") achieved legendary status as a Jersey shore party act, and the cuz put FIVE kids through school doing what he loves. When they play a wedding, it is about a $4000 proposition, split basically TWO ways. Do the math. Awesome and impressive!
This was all a lesson learned from my other cousin, Paul (yes, we have a few musicians in the Corvino ranks), who discovered in the 1970s that playing awesome jazz music with tremendous precision was NO way to make a living. Paul did that with his partner, Jack, and they were RIDICULOUSLY good. Along with the late drummer Eddie Sterner, they were one of the best jazz acts you'll ever see. But no, playing Bye Bye Blackbird was the ticket. Paul went from slightly unknown keyboardist to Long Beach Island legend in just a few season.
And I am NOT besmirching this route: it is the simple truth and it simply works. I am proud of both of my cousins for quickly understanding that a) you can't make any "real" money in a four- or five-piece band; and b) you can't make any real money being an "artist". You have to give the people what they want, period.
That said, there is MOST CERTAINLY a place for artistic endeavor in music. I love writing songs, and I get great gratification from doing it. I've never made any money in that pursuit, but that ain't the point. I continue to do it as the spirit moves me, and I'm sure I will continue for the rest of my life.
So what does this all have to do with me, because after all, it's ALL about me, right? :-)
When my wedding/special occasion band, Black Tie Orchestra (commerce) faded in the early 2000s, I was looking for something else to do, something completely different, something involving original music. For a brief period, I played with Jeff Selby and his band, The Quixote Project. It was fun at times, frustrating at times, but I did meet a great drummer named Jim Oakley, and I brought my friend, lead guitarist Bill Hornibrook into the mix. At one of the rehearsals, I also met Lynn King. And there the seeds of the band Love Alive were formed. And let there be NO mistake: Love Alive does not exist without me: I also suggested that we add Joey (who knew both me and Billy) into the band in our second year because I knew how well that would play. It just does not happen without me, and ain't no argument there (for what it's worth).
My vision of the band was for us to play covers, but to also write, record, and strategically mix in original songs so that eventually, we would have an original music act that was a good-paying hybrid, and not your average cover "party" band. We started this project playing at Carolina Blue in Mantua Township, NJ and at The Riverview in Pennsville, NJ, both facilities owned by the legendarily cheap Cook Family. Virtually every musician in the area was well aware that they simply were NOT going to pay bands a lot of money, period. We understood this, but it didn't matter because it was not about the money at that point in time. That would come later. Instead, it was about finding an afternoon, outdoor venue that was comfortable for us. And both those places were that.
About a year or two into this, we added my friend, Joe Lam, to the mix, and things began to snowball just a bit. Joey is a great talent, and people could tell we were doing it for the love of it and having fun, and it resonated. Against all odds, we built a loyal following — not a huge following, but a loyal and decent sized following for sure. Our people appreciated our commitment to the music and to quality vocals, and to the spirit of the 1960s and 1970s.
So we recorded a CD in 2011-2012. It was called Love at 2nd Sight, and I was very, very proud of the effort. Most of the songs were re-hashed Lynn originals, but we added four new originals that I thought were well-written and good. Only problem is that the music was mostly down-beat, with only one "party rock" song (Bad Gurl) in the mix. Okay, Hi Dee Hey would also qualify, and in a strange, strange occurrence, Cousin Dom's band Secret Service began to play the song at every gig, while we NEVER played it!
The CD was well-received by our crowd, and we sold a few copies. There was artistic satisfaction, and the process of recording and producing the CD was joyful. Most of it was recorded at Lynn's rustic house in Mays Landing, and I think that atmosphere can be heard on the CD. It was a special time for the band.
Little did I know that this would be the ONLY time the band would record anything of significance, and that this moment would be, in my mind, the absolute high point of whatever creative flow we possessed.
But on we soldiered, playing the same places, the same songs, and seeing the same people. And although I LOVE all our fans and appreciate them more than words can express, a band DIES when it cannot find a new audience to thrill and new challenges to conquer. We had climbed our small hill, and we now sat at the top of it with nowhere to go but down. It then became all about the $$$, and there simply was not enough of it.
Why couldn't we find somewhere else to play? Age was a factor. Nobody wants to hire a bunch of old guys playing rock and roll, no matter how good we were. Simple fact of life is that shore towns want to attract young people, and we can't do that. Also, we are set in our ways, don't want to play until 2 AM, don't want to deal with shore traffic going down on a Friday or coming home on a Sunday, and simply don't want to be aggravated. And a shore gig would be full of just that.
Then there is the simple and inarguable fact that we are not, in fact, a party band and never will be that. I've played the shore/party game. I was playing it back in the 80s to huge, drunken crowds. It takes high energy, it takes a willingness to work and sweat your ass off, and it takes you playing ONLY the songs the crowd wants to hear and nothing else. That means party rock. And that ain't us.
So there you sit, making $130.00 per gig from the "generous" Cook's, and you ask yourself why you are spending every beautiful Sunday afternoon of the summer doing what you do. And you don't have a good answer. There are gorgeous beaches, exciting boardwalks and soft breezes to enjoy. Did I want to give all that up for $130.00 for what is in essence EIGHT hours of work? Yes, EIGHT hours. I leave the house at about 2 PM and arrive back home again at about 11 PM.
Ok, NINE hours.
If you do the math on that, you are making a rousing $14.50 per hour for your efforts. And god forbid if your family comes and spends money! At one of my last gigs with the band at Carolina Blue, I actually LOST $100.00! That is no way to spend a summer Sunday afternoon.
So at this age, at this time in my life, it was clear I had to make a change, to do something different and seek venues and situations more appropriate to my current station in life. That is, I don't wanna be hanging out in bars every stinking weekend playing loud, raucous party tunes. There is simply more to a musical life than that.
Were there other more personal aspects to my leaving Love Alive? Certainly. There were certain accusations made at various times, and certain statements of an egocentric nature that I found to be quite outside the realm of any reality I ever witnessed. And though these in themselves weren't enough to push me out, they WERE enough to help me along in my decision-making process.
The bottom line is this: the band nine years down the road is NOT the band I wanted to build back in 2008 when we started. Virtually NO original songs have been offered, and the one (very, very good) original song that we all wrote together, "Raise 'em High," has simply never been completed for reasons unknown to me.
There is sadness in this, yes. There were some VERY special moments of musical magic that we built together, times when what we were doing on stage transcended everything else. And those I will ALWAYS miss. But alas, those moments became too few and too far between, and from my view, the only direction we could go in at this point is down. Sorry to say, but that's what I feel.
So it's time to do other things. Like what, Nick? Well, first of all, I discovered a labor of love project, a Linda Ronstadt Tribute Band. For a year, I helped build this troop of stellar musicians, all of whom happen to be nice, cool, people as well. The band sounds good, looks right, and has a chance to become the best such tribute nationally. This means better venues, shorter shows, and hopefully, better money, too. There's a lot of work ahead in order to build this, but with the right people in place, I am fairly certain this will come to pass.
I still intend to do some local solo gigs if/when they present themselves. And I might also dabble in some trio work with my old buddy Bob Leonetti and our new friend, Jessy Erolin (Linda Ronstadt). The three of us harmonize beautifully together, and that is a true joy.
Yes, the chapter is over. It was a good read, but it's time to move on to the next. I do this with great joy, but also with great appreciation for the 10 years spent with Billy, Jim, Joey and Lynn building the spirit of Love Alive. I know the band won't be the same without me (how could it be the same without ANY of us?), but I'm sure they will continue on their path for at least a while. And I wish them nothing but the best.
All things must pass. Indeed.
posted by Nick Frese at 2:30 PM
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