My high school graduating class held its twenty year reunion last weekend. I know this because someone I went to grade school with contacted me about it a little while ago. He was serving as a coordinator and contacted me via Facebook. (I wonder if Facebook takes the edge off of the reunion experience. Aren’t virtual mini-reunions happening on Facebook daily?)

I thanked the coordinator for contacting me, but told him that I wouldn’t be interested in attending the reunion. I conveyed my wishes for its success. I was being sincere too. I did hope that it went well for him and anyone he would succeed in gathering for the event. When I considered the suggestion of a reunion, I was struck by how much it felt like someone else’s commemoration.

On Facebook and other sites, many people far beyond those years share old group pictures of themselves and their friends from high school. When I see them, I’m always surprised. I don’t remember ever having that much fun in high school. Most often the kids in those pictures look like they’re having a blast. When was that happening? Apparently it was happening, I was just completely unaware of it.

In those days, I was always after something else. High school seemed to me an unpleasant weigh station on the journey to being a self-governing adult. It was only after I had reached that self-governing stage of my life that I realized why I was so upset about it. I remember the growing pains, the confusion and the conflicts of adolescence, but I don’t remember bonding with those around me who presumably were experiencing the same things. I was simply incapable of being sentimental about it. I never ordered a class ring. I didn’t go to the prom or Project Graduation. True, these milestones weren’t in agreement with what was my decidedly rebellious nature, but neither was being an honors student, which I always was. I think it would be more accurate to say that I didn’t understand the appeal. As difficult as it might be to understand, I didn’t “get” those things. While in the thick of it, I remember high school as being a terrible bother. I didn’t care for my station, so I could not embrace its entrapments.

The years that followed were far more significant. Though the way I think of them, I can’t reflect on the past twenty years. I find instead that they actually reflect on me. The start of that time was when my self-governing began, when I would have the opportunity to learn how to live and how not to live.

The first task I set about completing was unlearning. Unlearning countless destructive untruths amid punishing expectations both of others and myself. It was my own interpretation of excess. To paraphrase Edna Millay, my candle burned at both ends and did not last the 90s. After that, at the helm of my own metamorphosis, I started to become who I am now.

I think that even as a kid, I hungered for wisdom and peace, even ached for it. Much like an adolescent struggles to make sense of a body that is maturing faster than his mind, I could not fathom my own heart. Though I didn’t have the tools to recognize what I wanted so badly, I felt an overwhelming compulsion to get to the starting line. Perhaps that’s why high school seemed to present so many diversions to sidestep.

Today, wisdom and peace appear more frequently in my life, in little shafts of light that I try my best to stand in. I embrace the joys and pains of my grand station. It isn’t that I’ve arrived by any means, but I don’t have to start ever again. Even the simplest of milestones, like the approaching of autumn, can at once enable me to enjoy a deep breath and be giddy that I’m not a kid going back to school.

Somewhere near where I used to live, some old friends got together last weekend. I hope they had a nice time.

 

 

Title from “In A Station” by Richard Manuel, recorded by The Band

I remember when Derek Sivers, founder of CD Baby, wrote this last year.

http://sivers.org/bye-bye-baby

It shook many CD Baby members up because they immediately saw the potentials for conflicts of interest. If Tony Van Veen was at the helm of CD Baby and Disc Makers, an omnipresent CD manufacturer for the independent recording industry, it would look an awful lot like the beginnings of one-stop shop that could ultimately fail to serve the independent recording artist adequately.

Then came July 11, 2009. The beginning of the end. Right after CD Baby president Brian Felsen declared the redesigned site to be stable and live, the dark times began and they continue to today. (Note for the record that Rick O’Neal at Nimbit says that their membership is exploding now. Why do you think that is?)

Tony Van Veen, president of Disc Makers posted a blog entry this week. I’m starting to understand why the decline of CD Baby may have happened.

http://blog.discmakers.com/2009/09/whats-next-for-independent-music-retail/

Derek Sivers always seemed to immerse himself in the life and motives of the independent artists he sought to service with CD Baby. He wrote extensively about how to have a successful independent mindset. Derek was always positive. He tried to be helpful. Most importantly, I always got the impression that he thought of being an independent recording artist as a choice, not an alternative to signing with a major label.

Derek seemed to believe in empowering the independent recording artist and was very successful as a result. How Derek could have said, “I chose Disc Makers as the new owner (of CD Baby) because their president Tony Van Veen has been one of my favorite people for years, and I always felt they’d do a better job of running CD Baby than I would.” will always baffle me. Oh well. It was his company to do with as he pleased. 

Tony’s World

Let’s contrast the attitude and and mindset embodied by the blog post of Mr. Van Veen, which concerns brick and mortar distribution. He paints such a bleak picture of the industry based upon brick and mortar distribution, which I have to admit, I never, ever think of. It would be like a bistro manager sweating the golden arches. To the McDonalds regular, the bistro doesn’t exist. To the bistro patron, McDonalds doesn’t exist. They both sell food, but their potential customer pool is not simply “people who eat.”

Van Veen’s picture is only grim to those who will no longer be able to profit from an old business model. He starts his post with “I was talking to the CEO of a well-known music distributor the other day, when the topic of the future of independent music distribution came up.” If that opening line doesn’t come with a shirt and tie, it should. I wonder if cigars were involved. I don’t seem to remember Derek Sivers ever writing about chatting up CEOs while keeping their names out of it.

It’s clear to me that Van Veen is far too removed from his target customer to do any good. In fact, he doesn’t seem to understand them at all. I believe that his apparent distance from the true nature of the independent recording artist  in 2009 is perfectly line with the current state of CD Baby, which Disc Makers is widely believed to have ruined. (Though in this piece, he claims to believe that it will thrive.)

It safe to assume that a large portion of Van Veen’s profits are based upon a huge population of independent recording artists. They manufacture CDs at Disc Makers and sell them on CD Baby. But, few to no Disc Makers/CD Baby customers would ever benefit from his blog post nor would they share any concern about its subject matter. If like many in business, Van Veen’s attempting to create blog content to engage his customer, he’s missing the mark. In short, I don’t believe that any independent artists ever cry about this stuff.

“Less acts signed, less product into distribution, less product at retail; what’s an independent artist to do?” (Actually it should be fewer acts signed. Bad grammar is just a pet peeve of mine.) The answer? I don’t know… succeed like never before? Try to stop using words like product? I’m just spitballing here.

I don’t know any independent artists who care about brick and mortar distribution. Much less any that believe the state of CD sales by major retailers to be unfortunate. In the independent world, it’s a non-issue. I know of no one serious about independent success who is "aspiring / hoping / dreaming of a distro deal." "…the old dream of nationwide distribution dies hard for musicians." Huh? In 2009?

Where has Mr. Van Veen been? Perhaps in his office.

“Borders is reducing floor space for music by 70% over the next 90 days.” This happened last spring. I read it in the New York Daily News.

Claiming that the future of independent CD distribution will be online is such well-traveled territory that it’s almost laughable to give it a bullet point. "…digital is where all the growth is these days…" is remarkable, dusty, old perspective. He actually says, “In fact, my distribution scenario above is already playing out across the U.S. and Europe.” Am I nuts, or does he actually consider himself a forecaster of trends?

This period in the industry is simply overflowing with potentials for the independent artist. To expand upon my earlier simile, an independent artist has the opportunity to be more successful with a bistro now and doesn’t even have to consider managing a McDonalds. An independent artist can build a career with a more selective pool of “customers” because fewer CEOs will be able to take a piece.

An interesting tidbit about Disc Makers and Oasis that I’d like to share.

I’ve used Disc Makers in the past. Not good experiences. I have been thinking about a manufacturer I might use for my next album. Oasis seemed to be similar in service offerings and they send me catalogs all the time too. I sent a bunch of the same questions to Disc Makers and Oasis to see what kind of response I would get.

Neither of them responded. For all they knew, I had money burning a hole in my pocket, just waiting to give it to them. They just seemed to ignore the questions I sent to their web sites’ general e-mail addresses.

I sent an e-mail to Micah Solomon, the president of Oasis, and he answered me promptly and personally. Exactly what I wanted to see. They got a gold star that day.

Now maybe I’m a little slow on the uptake, but recently I noticed that both companies were located in New Jersey. Hmm… The addresses?

Disc Makers

7905 N. Route 130

Pennsauken, NJ

 

I knew about that one.

 

Oasis Disc Manufacturing

7905 N. Crescent Boulevard

Delair, NJ

 

Where the hell is Delair? I’ve lived in Jersey my whole life and I’ve never heard of it.

 

Some Googling revealed that it’s the same town. Delair is considered a Pennsauken neighborhood. And N. Route 130 is N. Crescent Boulevard! It’s the same building! What the hell is going on here?

I called and asked Oasis about the incredible situation of having two mailing address with the same front door. After holding for a while, the guy came back and told me that even he didn’t know the answer to my question, since he worked in a call center outside New Jersey, but he had found out. 

They’re owned by the same parent company.

Eeew…

I was perusing my journals and notes and came across a list of affirmations I wrote once. I’d forgotten all about them. The list covers some of the recurring concerns in my life as well as a kind of spiritual inventory of gifts. They brought me joy today. I thought I’d share some highlights.

 

I try very hard to do things well.

I can write. I’m good with language.

I like to communicate as well as I can.

I can make people laugh.

I can listen and I like to help people feel better.

I can feel strong emotions when I hear music that appeals to me.

I’m smart and good at solving problems.

I love my wife. She is a cross between one of Charlie’s Angels and one of God’s.

My daughter.

I’m a special person, though no better than anyone else.

I’m part of a life force in which everyone is connected.

I don’t have to win. I will get what I send out.

I can feel that I’m connected to people.

Someone else doesn’t have to lose in order for me to be successful.

I can only do my best. I don’t have to please anyone.

I am not my achievements. The right successes will come to me.

My life is not a race with others.

All music comes from God. I don’t write songs. I channel them from God, the eternal in myself. So I don’t have to worry about being prolific.

Someone else’s success is not my failure. I can only fail to stay on my own path. I can only fail to stay on my path by comparing myself to others.

What others think of me is not my business, so I will not concern myself.

I will show others that I am connected to them.

I’m not on the outside. There is no outside. I am where I put myself. Either I’m connected to others and God or I’m denying that connection.

If the answer comes back no, I will not have changed. I’m not any less valuable.

I shouldn’t be doing anything. There is nothing I "should" do.

I cannot know everything. I don’t have to know everything. If I don’t know something, it doesn’t mean I’ve failed. I can always learn. I will always try to learn.

Age is a number. Nothing is ever over.

It will take however long it will take. I’m not missing anything.

I must try to feel happiness and love for others.

I have a comfortable place to live.

I have a beautiful family.

I have everything I need.

I have the talent to realize my dreams. I have the strength to overcome the obstacles I create for myself.

I’m part of the same life force as the greats. I don’t have to walk where they walked. I can walk where I walk and still be special.

I don’t always have to be right. I’ll still be right sometimes, but it’s not all that important.

I still have value if I’m wrong. If I’m wrong, I may have found a new opportunity to learn.