Eric: an Introduction
Hello. My name’s Eric and I’m writing a column for a website.
I’ve never written a column before, and I’ve certainly never written anything before 3 am the day it was due, and odds are you’ve never read anything I’ve written before (unless you’re familiar with my seminal analysis of the later works of Richard Strauss as applied to the epic battle between Batman and Star Wars, which I may or may not have drunkenly written for a music history class at some point [it may or may not have been a thought-provoking edge-of-the-seat analytical thrill ride]), so I think it’s fair that we get a few things out in the open before we begin. Five things, to be exact.
First of all, I’m not exactly sure yet what my column’s going to be about. I think it’s mostly going to involve music, since that’s the subject I’m legitimately qualified to write about (which already puts me head and shoulders and torso and most of my legs above most people who write things about music). But I’ll probably occasionally just start ranting about things that piss me off, and those things are many and varied. This could happen at any time, so if it does, just let it run its course until I tire myself out. Maybe try to put a wooden spoon in my mouth or something.
Second, I promise never to say “literally” when I mean “figuratively.” I will never use the word “prodigal” to mean “somebody who returns,” because that’s not what it means. I will never say “goal-oriented” at all. I’m also going to steer clear of “mindset,” because that is a stupid word, and I’ll keep any and all discussions of irony to subjects that are actually ironic and not just unfortunate or interestingly coincidental.
Third, I’m kind of a solipsist, so even if my readership grows to a staggering five or six people, I’ll mainly be writing to amuse myself. If anything I write accidentally strikes anybody else as funny, I can accept that as collateral amusement.
Penultimately, I’m going to give you a small puddle of word-vomit about the relationship between me and my favorite subject, which is music. My resume (just so you know) includes a bachelor’s degree (or “BM,” which I think is pretty funny and appropriate) in music performance from the University of Arizona (magna cum laude! Hooray for me!), and a master’s in same from USC.
I started out playing what’s commonly and reductively known as “classical” music, because that is what I thought I wanted to do. After years of tearing my hair out, growing it back, beating myself up, and setting instruments on fire, I finally discovered that what I wanted to do was Make Stuff (and Burn Things[just kidding]). What I didn’t want to do was see the music that I loved above all else ruined for me by contractors, rampant nepotism, conductors (the mass of whom are incompetent or pretentious or nasty or all three), union restrictions, paychecks arriving months late or not at all, et cetera ad nauseam. In short, the business. And the assholes. What it is, largely, is the asshole business. And I was not about to let the asshole business diminish the impact of something I’d worked on almost my entire life.
So I started playing rock and roll. On the viola. No, really.
I really do that! I get to write and record and perform my own viola parts (Making Stuff!), and it’s nice to play for a crowd of people who are actually reacting, jumping around, singing along–as opposed to sitting quietly and reserving polite applause until the end of the performance. And the fact that I don’t rely on it to make a living anymore means I can pretty much ignore infantile bookers, dickhead sound guys, surly security, occasionally indifferent or openly hostile audience members, and throw-a-handful-of-shit-against-the-wall-to-see-what-sticks bills, record label owners who are amoral business criminals at best and the face of purest evil at worst…all the things that make that business such a colossal pain in the ass.
Yeah, viola rock is kind of a niche market. But there’s something of a precedent in place: John Cale from the Velvet Underground studied viola, and so did Jonny Greenwood from Radiohead and Mary Timony from Helium. Nirvana had a cellist on the “Unplugged” album. The Arcade Fire, the Raincoats, the Adicts, and Pulp all feature violinists. Mick Ronson played violin. Lots of bands use strings in some capacity, whether I like what they do or not (mostly not). So it’s not all that odd, although it is uncommon to hear it done really well.
And I have a day job, as a video game tester, which I enjoy very much. So I have gone from being a disgruntled and impoverished professional to a contented, overly trained semi-professional, and I do not regret that even the tiniest of bits.
And finally (that’d be “fifth,” if you’re still counting, which I’m not), I really do not like critics at all, especially critics of rock and roll music. But I’m gonna leave that to be dealt with in a different column, because my ire is boundless, and usually pretty wordy (if you couldn’t already tell).
Get the wooden spoon away from my mouth, I’m done for today. So now you know me a little bit, and I’ll leave it up to you to decide whether my ramblings are a) outdated, noisy, and ill-informed, b) the result of demonic possession, or c) detritus sloughing off a tragicomically deranged brain.