2009 — Time to shine?

The following statement just came through in an email at work– most likely spam, but that shall not stop me from deriving immense meaning from it:

Dear friend,The 2009 is coming and all will be perfect in our life — Studying,working ,loving & shopping.

Oh Spam Email, is that so?

I been thinking about this, in my late nighted mind, as we stretch into week two of a new year still (seemingly) hungover from the last party of ’08. Of course it is silly to think that the arbitrary line of time drawn down between two years/eras will just as easily apply to the various issues that engross our lives. For all of my admonition that I would Stop Drinking So (Too) Much! and Stop Taking Text Messages so Seriously! — well, I’m afraid to say that some of my tendencies spilled helplessly into the new year. So I wonder, what it will take to finally get started on all those Things I’m Going to Do?

Oh Nine has thus far been a doozy in one long stretch: still drunk new year’s morning when my parents pick me up on the side on highway 30, no shoes in the snow, in their PT Cruiser to Astoria for a better-late-than never holiday. Then down to Springfield for two days of shopping and sitting with  Bree in one last visit before her child enters the world, back to Portland with a tingle in my throat that becomes full-blown illness when combined with alcohol intake, leading to hazy drugged up days of work, then friends come to visit and bars are obligatory and just when I think I cannot go on I get the call: the baby’s on it’s way.

So down to Springfield, this time for the long haul, the birth we’ve all been getting ready for, except it would seem there’s some things we can’t prepare or make happen, no matter how hard we try. Bree tried hard for 38 hours, into the morning of one day and the night of the next. We the Birth Team helped in the ways we had been told we could, as the task was at this time only Bree’s. The task and the work, and the pain. Hours into it, sweaty filthy and phleghmy, our only solace the still unimaginable thought of the baby being born (as well as the Nutrition Closet with it’s cartons of juice and squares of cheese) I became aware that the world was transforming. It would seem that this is true in n every moment, but only when circumstances and conditions bring me to a sharp, high clarity does it fully sink into me. The world is transforming and also always the same. I’m going to let myself sink into and see where I end up. So FUCK YOU resolutions, I’ve lost my resolve. And all my intentions and speculations, I’m just jumping off –see you somewhere in the tide.

Hilarious Responses to Text Messages Over Time

Pearl pointed out that I should document some of these. Note that they all involve boys doing me wrong.

Eugene era. Mandee to her intimate circle: Roommates Pearl, Maria, Bree; Couchdweller and somewhat unwilling constant confidante George. I send a text in frustration that a boy gave some lame excuse for not coming over for dinner.

Pearl: Sux 4 him. more pizza 4 us

George: Girl. Drop that zero and get yourself a hero.

(note that this is unlike anything that George would typically utter)

In response to a lament that a rocker boy had done me wrong:

Omar: Fuck him! Worst member of the band.
————————————–

Thoughts on the Arctic Blast:

This shit is weird. Surreal and beautiful. Dehabilitating and destructive. My mind is muddled partly because I can’t see the ground and also because I am constantly drinking. My friends and coworkers confirm this is true for them as well so I go forth in confidence and confusion.

I feel like the “arctic blast” is illuminating some of the general ways that we’ve come to operate around here. Most obvious is the fact that we strive for reasons to get out of things — anyway, every way to get “off the hook”. Sometimes just to know that we can, to have that leverage with which to feel in control of our own lives–or maybe even to feel fully OUT of control, beyond the realm of whoever it is that would say they call our shots. Not necessarily because we have something more worthwhile to do. To truly have control over our own lives (or something close to it) would involve a much more concentrated, deliberate way of going about things. As it is we are flailing around somewhat desperately, grasping onto whatever we  can in any moment, pounding it into the ground. At least that’s what I do. And then I don’t have words to describe it. I try but realize how very trite and true I am. I get lost between my desire to feel the weightlessness of loss of control and my unrelenting urge to control and maniupulate every situation. I want to tell the inane stories of the moments I’m stranded and out of control, but I want to dictate my placement and effect as well. Somewhere between the effort and effortlessness I end up caught in the contradictions of my desires and end up very far from any of it.

putting thoughts down.

I wanted to share this comment I left, because as it reads (and as my nearest dearest loved ones know) man oh man do i think about elliott smith alot. because i love his music and because i am aware of the weird weird weirdness that ensues in the widespread consumption of music/art and the sheer fact that an industry for it exists. shit man, it’s my job! and i know i am an obsessive person and probably have the predisposition to become a stalker, let’s get serious. maybe that’s one of the reasons that i tend to go overboard with elliott. he’s gone,  so i know there’s no way i can tread on him as a living individual.

That said, it’s five years since he died, and I’m feeling real haunted. Very aware of his chronology as reflected in the albums he put out into the world, and the discussion that surrounds them. Last night I was all high and deep-thinking and said to ruby and kelly, “you know, every song, it’s like a painting. and the artist signs their name”. i haven’t always thought about albums/songs as having that type of intention. but i think that’s how we tend to respond to them, and the reverence they create. which creates a dialogue between the “art” and the person who is exposed to it that takes a life of it’s own, and emerges separate but connected to the the creator. what response is that person to have? like elliott, kurt cobain, john lennon and cat stevens even (he has disowned all the music he made!) there tends to be a dissonance, and why wouldn’t there be, but how do we make sense of it, love the music and it’s maker and yet avoid the fetishisation that makes life impossible.

I don’t know at all. I do know I want and need to start making.

http://action.publicbroadcasting.net/opb/user/act/117ae2625cebf35e27799bc54cd14174/2009805.page#2140413

as a young oregonian living & working in the independent music scene, i greatly appreciated this episode. i spend a great deal of time thinking about elliott’s life and music and the way in which music & art interacts with the lives of individual people. i am strongly affected by elliott’s music personally, but i am also involved, through my work with distributor CD Baby, in the burgeoning scene of “independent music”. this episode points out the fact that this music is made possible by the work that elliott and his fellow musicians did in the 90′s and beyond. as the people alive in this world right now struggle to keep alive and make sense of the society and civilization we’ve inherited, i’m developing faith in the fact that the creation and creative destruction that music makes possible is something more and more of us will turn to. i’m thankful for all that elliott created and destroyed, and I will be following his voice and his lead.

I let my tape rock ’til my tape popped

this morning, on the bus to work, a couple of things:

first, the sky was a battleground between an ominous mass of clouds and those few blips of early-morning sun that shine so fierce it strikes me as the closest we’ll see to the eye of Mordor. rain drops were already starting to announce their way down, leaving me to lament that in our household’s self-imposed restriction to ONLY doing things that we want to do, when we want to do them, things had backfired. Although we followed through on our initial desire to get a bunch of firewood for a warm and cozy winter, we then  failed to acquire a tarp to cover the half cord of wood sitting in the driveway, even with knowledge of impending rain. These tendencies of ours bewilder me. We are so resistant to the demands being made of us –by life, society, friends, family, and common sense– that we end up screwing ourselves over, in the basement watching Purple Rain. Right now, I guess it is what it is.

Secondly. I was listening to Girl Talk as we cruised down Killingsworth, almost unable to remain seated in my sheer joy of “Smash Your Head”  (“Tiny Dancer” + “Juicy” by Notorious BIG: “It was all a dream, I used to read Word UP magazine– Salt ‘n Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine…”) It is the most perfect blend of the soft-rock strains that get us all, everytime and inspire such predilection for karaoke as motivates us currently; then, the rap track that resounds with the hip-hop trajectory we’ve grown up next to, underground  energy and inspiration made loud & clear coming down from the top (watch for “BIG”: The Biopic, coming soon). The way Girl Talk (and others) figured out how to mix these two and thus appeal enormously  to kids like me brings me to reflect on the phenomenon of life at this time in general, the generation that we are, what we grew up on and are seeking still and I’m  where it will lead.

This weekend at Gaycation, as with most nights at Holocene, I bemusedly noticed that the crowd goes most wild when we hear the most ridiculous, completely time-and-place jams. There’s things like “No Diggity” that we’ve been grinding to since 7th grade, but then there’s songs that bring it to another level. I’ll never forget the feeling of bliss that came from a whole room full of twenty-somethings completely shaking it to “You Can Call Me Al” at the very end of the night. Delighted but confused, I wondered why THIS song was the hit that brought the house down, amidst all the Kanye and JT and Britney Spears, but then it made perfect sense: this is what most of these people’s parents listened to, in the cars and living rooms of our youth. If it wasn’t, it was because we discovered it later, in high school or college maybe, in defiance of the music of that time. We love these songs because they belong to a time that feels more real to us that our own. However weird or displaced that may be, there are rooms full of us doing the same thing, and feeling it.

How do you measure a year in tha life ?

It’s officially one year that I’ve been doing what I do at CD Baby. It comes without ceremony, other than the flower I gave in memoriam to my fellow employee Robb, with whom I was trained. The company I came to then has become a different place and I different in it. I remember well the days leading up to starting here, when I was thinking a new era was about to begin, and I wondered how I would be changed. I thought of the people I’d meet and the places they’d take me and what I would learn to do. Now it is hard, if not impossible, to say where this has led.

I still get the same sensation walking up to and away from the warehouse as I did one year ago in the Portland october air. It’s the excitement and dread of moving towards new mixed all up in paradox with the fresh death from the trees, and this mingles with the somehow inspiring scent of pastries emanating from the industrial-sized European bakery next door. It’s definitely the same kind of scent you may remember if you lived in the U of O dorms when the Williams Bakery was just off campus. Something in that pervasive order of rising yeast creates a doughy euphoria that I will always, always associate with nascent self-discovery. A vital part of education at the U of O of that era, I would say.

And now people have been met, people have left, in turn I brought new people here with me. Oh so many many hours of hungover splendor I have spent, conversating with the aspiring musicians of the world! Forty hours a week to be exact, more time devoted to this than to any other project in my life, and much time spent regrouping from the trials and tribulations this work entails by way of intoxication and debauchery. The music itself, my love for which brought me to this place (the first in Portland that would have me, I should note) well it runs in an endless background loop that blurs and baries the strong feelings themselves. I am left thinking, as I so wisely intonated to a new friend the other night, (in typical unoriginal recapitulation) “it must be the colors and the kids that keep me alive / cause the music is boring me to death”

The colors and the kids. That’s what’s next. I hold them in my head as my future, what I’m working towards, but it’s becoming clear that movement impends and treading water keeps you going but still. I’m realizing in the most real way (as in fully feeling the resonance of reality as compared with one that might be so) what it would look like for my life to change in those ways–towards the day -to-day thus full-time life I want to live, away from a space and time filling inbetween. The translation from imagined to real is pressing. Without the staggered eras of high school/college/career to sheperd me through, I’m left to determine my own entrances and exits, and it would seem that’s something, in all my education and experience, I never learned how to do. That’s what’s next. I’m getting close and I can’t tell you how glad I am for that.

History…

Continuing developments in the neighborhood.

Why don’t we hear about these things?

before you knew you’d know me

I woke up tuesday morning and my nose was bleeding. never in my life has that happened! why would it happen now?

it was an acutely sunny morning, the blood was think and dripped a little from my fingers as i ran to the bathroom. i was afraid my body had a plan to die in my sleep and i’d woken up on accident, foiled it all with my survival instinct.

kelly was locked out of the house in the backyard, so good thing! i was up. i am scared by my dreams as of late. i look up to the night sky and am intuitively afraid of the spaceships i’ve been seeing. UFOs seem so obvious: adbucted by the foreign. why would i be dreaming that now?

i don’t trust myself… i’m too different from who i was last week, month, last stage of my life, i’m too fickle and too afraid.

Response to previous blog activity

Again, more people read this baby than I ever imagined (not that it was #1 on Google or anything). And I’m not at this time using my blog as a platform for discussion/dissemination of what’s gong on at CDB.

That said, here is Tony, president of Discmakers, responding to my previous post. Although I’m not going to use this as any time of forum right now, it’s only fair that his response by accessible for anyone who read my words.

It would be inappropriate for me to comment on staffing changes in a public forum such as this, but I’m happy to address any and all concerns personally and privately.

It’s understandable that people are upset about a situation like Kathryn’s. These kinds of decisions are the most difficult decisions a manager has to make. They are absolutely horrible. But sometimes they’re necessary.

When running a business we need to balance at all times the needs of all the stakeholders: the staff, the customers, and the shareholders. All need to be happy at the same time for the business to flourish.

I know this kind of outlook is not something that had been communicated much (if ever) when Derek owned the company. He didn’t think that way. But the fact is that it’s very simple: My number one priority is to make sure that the staff feels good about working at CD Baby. All other good things will flow from there, if the staff feels good about being at CD Baby.

Right now, on the heels of a surprising announcement that Derek has sold the business there is some understandable anxiety about the new direction of the company. But the staff – customers – stakeholders relationship works very simply like this: The staff needs to be happy. That allows them to make the customers happy. Happy customers means more business. More business means a growing profitable company, which makes shareholders happy. Growth and profits mean there’s room for raises, bonuses, additional employees, marketing, training, etc. It’s a positive cycle that keeps reinforcing itself.

Regardless of how we call it, it all boils down to having a great place to work, and taking care of our clients. That’s what we’ve been doing at CD Baby for years. I intend to continue to do that – in fact, I hope to do it better than ever before. You can dismiss this as idle words, and only time will prove whether I’ve succeeded or failed. I very much hope you’ll stick around and see it for yourself.

Tony

That’s all on this, until further notice From here on out I will be discussing songs I like etc. If that enthralls you, READ ON.

it’s been evening all day long

i honestly did not intend for anyone was going to read this other than my facebook friends and coworkers (who i am surprised read it as well!) . so i’m going to stick to personal shit on here and try and deal with work stuff “in house”. my idea was to formulate my ideas, figure out how to represent my perspective and make sure it’s accounted for. so now i’m going to do that in a direct way.

bye. i love you!

“Worse than being a cog in a machine…”

…is being a cog in a machine that doesn’t work”.

–my coworker Pony, just now

My friends, since I’m back in town I’m making a serious effort to draw a line between the work I do at work and the work I do with the rest of my time.

On that note, here is the Discussion

surrounding the changes at CD Baby. This shit went down the day I got back. We are reeling, and I am trying to figure out what role I can and want to play. Here are my comments. I will continually be forming thoughts about this, and talking about them. I think that’s important.

It is good to see the community taking so much interest in what’s going on at CD Baby, as it can feel reaaaal far away from the Portland action all the way out here by the airport (we’re hoping to bridge that gap soon, though).

I’m writing from the perspective of someone who spends their days on the phone & e-mailing the clients & customers of CD Baby. Since being hired last September, I have seen not hair nor hide of Mr. Derek Sivers. Yet he has been entirely present, in the culture he created as the company’s founder and president for the last decade, as well as in the aftermath and legacy of the decisions he has made in recent years and his continued involvement by way of an Adam Smith-esque “invisible hand”.

Throughout my time here there have been speculations and postulations galore as to the future of CD Baby, as well as that of compact discs and music itself. From what I understand, this company was not intended to occupy the place it does in the “music industry”, but has it ever carved a niche for itself, and knowing where to go from here is, I can imagine, a real task.

Undoubtedly all action that is taken will influence the opportunities available for independent musicians in the years to come, and thus continue to shape the way music is made available with the incredible magnitude it has thus far (need stats on this? Just ask!). By the time I hit the scene, the CD Baby model seemed to me to be one of overwhelming inertia. Derek had created this great service with an immense reputation and client base; the idea was to keep it going and maintain the fundamental ideas & principles of making independent music profitable for artists.

As a new employee this was inspiring to be a part of, but there was significant discouragement in areas where the company had seemed to reached its limits. Growth was hindered by disorganization, confusion and lack of progress in day-to-day operations [by “growth” I mean not the generation of revenue, but of expansion of what we have to offer, and what role we play in making music available and possible].

In my opinion what we most sorely needed was an overarching vision for the future. Derek’s fundamental program had brought the company to it’s current place. All musings on the nature of the “music industry” and music-for-profit considered, this company needed an idea of where it wanted to go, and what it wanted to achieve if it was to go anywhere.

Discmakers now owns this company and stands to make money from it, yes. But with new leadership comes an opportunity to make good of the “CD Baby vision” as originally dreamed by Derek, with a commitment to the continued evolution of a vital service. According to Tony the mission is still to make artists happy– as it’s always been about. To do so, they recognize the need to keep staff happy as well, a large part of which is acknowledging the position the current employees are in to influence and contribute to the new era.

That’s exciting for us here, and Tony is dammmmn right when he says we’ll let him know how we feel (copy that, TVV?) We’re going to keep letting him know. We are still here on the ground floor with the musicians and the people that love music. It’s with sadness that we’ve lost some of our ranks, but a great many of us are sticking around to make sure we do what we can to see this thing through.

Because the employees have come to know through many adjustments and changes that we ARE CD Baby. We take everything about what we do to heart, which makes us all a little crazy and a lot passionate. Expect to hear from us as time goes on, and know that while it was never the plan to be where we’re at today, it’s where 89 of us are. Rest assured that we intend to be a part of the formation of the new face of CD Baby (get it? new face? no more baby…?), and that we are going to make the most of it to the best of our ability.