mccarthyism

This is the first evening I've been in the library this semester. I certainly don't want to be here now, but Matt is working on his enthnography project and so I'm stuck here for the evening. I wanted to do homework in Chris' room but I don't have the right books. Don't worry, it won't become a habit.

So we're playing Tuesday night at a club in Atlanta. I think we've put together the best set we've ever had. Hopefully it won't end up sucking. Like Matt Doty said, it's a jackpot of nothing. Sometimes it's terrific, and sometimes (more often in our case) it's not. But you keep trying. The trouble is that the music industry is such a heartlessly unfair business. It take a lot of commitment and then after that a lot of dumb luck. We don't have a whole lot of commitment, so I guess we don't even have the right to expect any luck. We're just so busy with other ambitions. If only music were all we knew.

Seriously, I feel like that. "Jack of all trades, master of none." A big part of me just wants to sell out on one thing and screw all the rest. To do one thing and do it well. It's like Stuart Murdoch (my main man) said one time:

Playing the piano well
Is like the ash outside my window
Is like the gorge of green which makes this view everlasting
Is something that I would like to do
In another life
At another time

Playing the piano well
I mean, really well
Is like a job making coffee
Is like a lifetime listening
Is like the vocation of a councillor
Dedicated, with a couch in a room
It’s like… pick one thing
Stick at it, be good at it
Know it is your life’s work
Celebrate the keys
Praise the blessed shape of a harp laid on its side

Oh, Stuart. He gets it. I wish he were a girl so I could marry him.