This post includes an extract from my forthcoming book about strategies for performers.. Visit www.petecater.org for further details.
Poor Adele.
What was she thinking of?
Famously plagued with stage fright and yet she signs up to a lengthy residency in Las Vegas. Admittedly only a couple of days per week so really not terribly onerous. When you compare that kind of workload to what some of the stars of the West End and Broadway put themselves through in a typical eight show week (as evidenced by the fabulous cast of the Barbican's presentation of 'Anything Goes', which I had the great good fortune to see in October 2021) going on stage and belting out your greatest hits along with some hugely anticipated new material doesn't really seem like that much of a stretch. For some performers it simply wouldn't be.
Live performance is something many of us (myself included) thrive upon. The opportunity to show our skills to an audience is, for some of us, the principal reason why we've invested all kinds of hours over a lifetime into being as good at what we do as is possible. This is an unfinishable task. You'll never know everything there is to know, nor be able to do everything that is possible in your chosen field of endeavour.
Call it egotistical, narcissistic, or just plain old showing off. It is to some extent all of those but when did showing the world how good you are at something become problematic. It simply isn't.
For me this is a huge and deeply powerful motivator. Every day of my life I strive to come up with new and better ways of expressing myself on my chosen instrument. I love it; it's addictive, and as long as I am able to play to a standard I'm happy with I shall be staying in the game.
New and better ways of expressing yourself as a musician are all very well, but the all-important issue of context plays a critical role. Earlier on I mentioned the West End. Orchestras in the West End are packed with some of the most talented and capable instrumentalists you will come across anywhere. Largely uncredited, and at best on the very outermost periphery of the limelight, theatre musicians have to get it right all the time, with absolute consistency.
Context again, in that the requirements of the drum parts of a West End show (and some of them are extremely challenging-check out 'Hamilton' from the drummer's perspective some time) wouldn't provide me with a platform to put my personal innovations to any meaningful use. So it's important to me that the majority of the work I do is of a kind where a lifetime of personal development as a player can be put before an audience, rather than never escaping from the practice room
The theatre route never appealed to me, and when some 25 years ago I was offered the opportunity to take that fork in the the road, I chose to stick with the jazz career, which by that point really started to feel like it was progressing towards the fulfilment of what I originally set out to do, and my younger self had already figured out that the endgame was to become the drummer I had dreamed of being when listening to my Dad's jazz LPs in early childhood.
.The quartet and big band gigs I do with Simon Spillett encapsulate this perfectly. As do my other projects, including a new big band format currently in development, with the focus very much on some of the greatest drumming of the greatest drummers in the history of music. Want to know more? Call my agent as they say.
This is a huge box tick for any performer. It's the reason I learned to play in the first place. It's also the reason I (at nearly 59) am still trying; trying harder than ever, and, dare I say, getting the best results I have ever achieved.
Do I strike you as confident? That's largely because for the most part, I am. Where did this confidence come from, you may ask. It's certainly not innate by any stretch, and I have had my fair share of self doubt, and in my early years what felt like a disproportionately large helping of bad luck and disappointment.
Remember, success and failure are frequently mistaken for one another.
Every time something goes wrong we often have a tendency to beat ourselves up and shoulder the lion's share of the responsibility. This is a mistake. I'm not suggesting that you blame everybody else when things go wrong; failing to own up when you've blown it is just as bad as taking credit for other people's achievements where none is due. Developing a capacity for constructive self-criticism will pay the biggest dividends.
And remember; f**k up, hands up, move on. (As Dave says).
If you're smart, adversity can be your greatest teacher. As a young player I started to see other drummers my own age get on in their fledgling careers where I seemed to be forever hitting brick walls and making no progress. It wasn't much fun and it used to bring me down. I made it a priority to self evaluate my own work without beating myself up. Knowing what you do well and knowing where there's room for improvement is a big key to progress and eventual success. Ask people. That can help, but be careful in your choice of those you ask. Not everybody will give you the most helpful advice. Not everybody wants to see you succeed. I know that sounds cynical but it's something you need to know.
Take pride in the things you know you do well, at the same time learn from your mistakes. Nothing you will ever do will be completely perfect, and nothing completely without merit to the point of being disastrous. Outside of a few obvious and basic parameters, our judgement of musical performance is based on entirely subjective appraisal. A lot also comes from received wisdom, where we fall into line behind the opinions of those whose status we (often fallaciously) consider superior to our own. It's really, really important not to do this. A huge part of developing the kind of quiet, unwavering confidence which will pave your personal road to success, is born of trusting your own opinions rather than merely adopting someone else's. Yes, you'll be wrong, you'll make a few mistakes, and you'll get another (hopefully) free, or at best inexpensive music/life lesson in the process.
I suspect Adele is a perfectionist. When you think about it there's almost a connection between a deep seated lack of self-belief in certain areas and demanding the absolute best from those upon whom you depend (leaving the much trumpeted covid outbreak and supply issues to one side for the moment).
Personally I don't consider myself a perfectionist. A few of you reading this who actually know me personally might be suggesting that I take a look in the mirror, but the truth is that I like things to be as good as they can possibly be. that's a sort of perfectionism-lite, with a few caveats that allow for circumstances over which I have less than full control.
Shit happens. Deal with it. Find another way.
I'm sure the media will be full of all sorts of well-intentioned advice for Adele in the days and weeks ahead. Any of it written by anyone who has never stepped on stage in front of an audience can be for the most part be dismissed.
I have to say I struggle to see why someone in her position, with a well-documented distaste for live performing that has apparently increased over the years, would subject herself to something which although once a big part of an adolescent wish list has now turned out to be very much outside of her comfort zone. If I were her I would keep it to writing, recording, and releasing music. Have a sit down with Oprah is you feel so inclined (we all know how the PR machines work) but take a moment to evaluate what's on offer, and if it's no longer what you want, simply step back from it.
Goodness knows, how many performers have that kind of luxury? All professionals know the reality of earning a living from music, and the average musicians' earnings fall below the average UK wage, which last time I looked it was about £25,400. I know all kinds of professional musicians who are trying their utmost to get by on way less, particularly in the wake of some of the somewhat disproportionate restrictions our industry has been subjected to over the last two years.
I recently did exactly what I think Adele should have done, but on a microscopic scale compared to a Vegas residency. A return booking was offered to me, which I had pencilled in my diary. After some honest reflection I arrived at the conclusion that I wasn't the ideal candidate for this particular gig and politely declined. I erased the days in question from my diary leaving several blank pages. It's not the end of the world. it won't leave me financially straitened, and there's still plenty of time for other things to fill those gaps. Having the confidence to acknowledge my shortcomings enabled me to make the right decision. Once upon a time I would have done the gig, undoubtedly. Luckily I'm at a point in life where I can exercise more choice and discretion. There's also a kind of egotism at play here; I only want to do things in public that I know I can do to a satisfactory standard, so don't expect a vocal album, cookbook or grand slam tennis tournament anytime soon.
Adele can do this too. Her phenomenal success has bought her an unparalleled level of freedom and autonomy. She can do just as she pleases. Although we have several mutual friends (both inside and outside the music industry) the chances of her seeing this are virtually nil, but the conclusion is, she took a huge gig she didn't actually need to do and I turned down a small one.
Guess who's happier.
No comments:
Post a Comment