Diary of a Portland Musician

How to be an Asshole

by Mr. Indie

I don't want to sound like a snob, but... I've had to turn a lot of people down. You know, I'm sure we've all been there: You post an ad or somebody comes to one of your shows and the next thing you know, you're agreeing to "jam out" with someone you've never met. Maybe it'll turn out to be a magical connection, like the stuff you read about how Elvis Costello's band got together through the classifieds. But more often than not, it turns out to be a huge dud. Once again, I don't want to sound like a snob, but most of the times I've gone through this process, I've been the one who doesn't want to continue playing and have had to talk my way out of it without seeming like too much of an asshole. If I could just bare my self-infatuation as I do in this column every month, it would be so much easier. Unfortunately, being recognized in real life for a conceited prick is a bit more threatening than being recognized through such an impersonal medium as this. Therefore, most of these situations have ended with some sort of excuse like, "I'm just not a 'two band' type of guy".

I went through a spell when I was about 17 when I thought I had sworn off my usual musical collaborator. I was sick of something or other and decided that I had to strike out on my own and find some different people to play with. Problem was, I lived in a small town where the only types of music that anyone listened to were Blues [that modern type of blues where it's pretty much play by numbers: "You've already got the progression, just choose what key you want to start in and plug in a tempo (slow for meaningful/fast for 'boogie') and you've got an instant song!"] or Reggae (to this day--and I know this takes away precious cool points even admitting this affinity, but fuck y'all--the only reggae I've ever thought to be worth the energy it takes to press the PLAY button is Bob Marley. Every other reggae song I've ever heard is just a bad imitation). So the only people I'd ever been able to find who weren't interested in playing that kind of music were the three people I'd already been in bands with.

So what's a fella to do? I don't fucking know! What do you do when you need to find people to play music with but you live in a town where nobody has the same taste as you? My only option was to try people out and hope I'd find a gem.

I didn't find a gem.

A guy who lived at least an hour away from me responded to the flyer I'd posted at a local music store. He played drums and his friend played guitar. I made the trip on the hopes that it would be something special. It was closer to a pile of shit. The guitar player LOVED Metallica, which isn't always a bad thing, but he was even into the newer stuff (this was right around the time they were starting to get heavy rotation on MTV) and he would play the riffs to their newest singles in between jams. The drummer was kind of okay from what I remember, but he was the kind of guy who makes you feel ashamed for being decent. "Dude, that chick is hot, fuckin' yell something at her. No? Why the fuck not?!" That kind of guy.

Another guy was the first person I'd met with the same first name. No good story here, just not a very good guitar player.

The last couple of guys I played with were the same type of thing. Nice enough people, but just not very talented. I really really wanted them to be good, and I tried to believe that when the guy said on the phone that their music was "pretty straight-forward", it was like Frank Black straight-forward, or The Police straight-forward. The brilliant type of straight-forward. Once again, a huge let-down.

So, to get to the point, how in the world do you tell someone you don't want to play music with them without hurting their feelings? No seriously, I'm asking. I don't know the answer, I'm pretty sure it's not possible. I mean, there are some people who just aren't right for you, even though they might be decent musicians, and they can usually understand that when told. But I'm talking about the other kind, the kind who make the creation of music turn from the most joyous activity in your life to the most painful. The kind you feel dirty after playing with.

So what do you do? Do you make up an excuse, as I've always done? Or do you tell them what you really think of them? The angel on my shoulder right now is insisting that honesty is the best policy, and most of my rational mind agrees with him. It's been quite a while since I've had to deal with this type of confrontation and my values have solidified a bit. But there is still that nagging little bastard on the other shoulder, one whose voice unfortunately grows louder once I'm actually faced with such a decision. He says, "They'd be so much happier if you had an excuse, nobody wants to hear that they're not good enough." And isn't that true? I know everybody says stuff like, "I'd much rather hear the truth than some lame excuse, it wouldn't hurt my feelings". Well, I'm here to say that that's a bunch of bullshit. Yes, I've said the same type of thing, and while there is a strong desire to know what someone really thinks of you, you're rarely more satisfied with harsh reality than you are with a carefully constructed, ego-saving excuse.

The point is that I guess I've written my first article that doesn't have a point. It's a fucking tough question and I'm most certainly not an example to follow. Although it's very easy to qualify your actions when you lie to someone, I still lean toward letting 'em have it, straight up. At least then you'll know that they know where you both stand, and they won't call back trying to convince you to let them come pick you up for practice after you've already explained to them that your car is broken down and you have a 110 fever and your dog is dying so you couldn't possibly make it out tonight.

-Mr. Indie

NOTE: If any of you've experienced this before, tell us how you've handled it. Send emails to mrindie@musicliberationproject.com

Most names have been altered to protect the privacy of persons/entities involved. Any similarities to actual persons or events are probably pretty accurate, but you can't prove anything.