Music Allies » Erin Mckeown

Erin Mckeown | “the clatter of keys” has moved

Item.Title | Add Prefix to five Feeds — Mon, 14 Mar 2011 16:29:00 +0000

here's our new digs.....

http://theclatterofkeys.tumblr.com/

join us!!

Erin Mckeown | 35%

Item.Title | Add Prefix to five Feeds — Mon, 14 Mar 2011 15:35:00 +0000

this article first appeared here. and it was crafted with the help of my friends at the Future of Music Coalition.

The most important piece of furniture in the living room of my cabin in western Massachusetts isn't a comfy chair or functional table, it's a vintage radio and record player from the early 1920's. Almost as big as a modern refrigerator, it's a monument to a time when music had a physical presence that was hard to ignore. Next to it, you'll find my laptop and smart phone charging, taking a brief rest from their daily toil of communication, commerce, and yes, entertainment. Seeing them side-by-side reminds me that, while the core of what we love about music has remained constant through the years, the way we interact with it and its creators has changed dramatically.

Recently, President Obama made a bold commitment that can open up a new world of possibilities for musicians around the country. Speaking in Marquette, Mich., the president laid out a framework to ensure that 98 percent of Americans have access to the next generation of high-speed wireless broadband. His vision included a future in which young people no longer need to leave their hometowns to succeed because they are able to connect virtually with new education and business opportunities formerly only available in big cities.

This type of universal connection would not only transform our economic future, but also the future of music and our engagement with it. Along with dramatically increased exposure to new artists and sounds, high-speed Internet gives us unique and meaningful ways for us to deepen our connections with the acts we love.

As a recording artist, I'm dependent on the Internet for the basics of maintaining my career - everything from tour dates to record releases to my virtual storefront. For an independent musician like myself, the Internet is as essential as electricity. Artists make their home at the intersection of the old and new. When we create, we apply innovative ideas to transform tradition, making better sense of shared human experiences. Consistent high-speed access to the Internet is one of our most powerful instruments in this process.

Unfortunately, while many of us are reaping the benefits of this evolution, a staggering 35 percent of Americans don't have the high-speed Internet they need to participate. They are quite simply left out of the revolution.

I draw an incredible amount of inspiration from where I live. From the river that runs below my back porch to the quiet hills that surround my cabin in rural western Massachusetts, my surroundings are inseparable from what I write and perform. I wanted to find a way to share this experience with my fans and also tap into the artistic possibilities of the Internet.

In order to do this, I created an ongoing series of concerts called "Cabin Fever," broadcast live over the Internet from in and around my home. I like to characterize them as "Wayne's World" meets "The Judy Garland Show." These concerts allow me not only to share my surroundings but also share in what my fans are saying to me beyond the merchandise table and social networks, in an artistic format not limited by time or travel. The experience has offered the most inspiring work of my career and has brought home the incredible opportunities the Internet offers for connection, community and art.

That is why it is so important that we work to fulfill the commitment that President Obama laid out to bring high-speed wireless Internet to all corners of our country. Before wireless, those in rural communities like mine faced tremendous cost and infrastructure obstacles to getting connected. Today, access may be in reach of so many more Americans. As long as this access remains open and allows for direct participation, it could transform local economies and creative culture. In the same way that it makes my tiny rural cabin a concert venue of infinite size.

The time is now for this historic investment. We must urge Congress to support the President's call to ensure that every American has access to the economic, educational and artistic opportunities that universal access to high-speed wireless can create.

Erin Mckeown | tears of a clown

Item.Title | Add Prefix to five Feeds — Tue, 08 Mar 2011 12:30:00 +0000

last night i watched a fantasic movie about bill withers, "still bill". besides his music being deep as all get out and more than standing the test of time, it was amazing to watch a man who is truly in touch with the humanity around him and his own feelings. and he is totally able to show it. or, really, he is unable to hide it, stuff it, or mask it like so much of "masculinity" demands.

the movie reminded me too of one of my favorite sports clips where then USC head-coach pete carroll (who got out before the shit hit the fan) brings in bill to speak to his team about the power of asking for help. i've probably seen the clip 10 times, and i cry every time.

on sunday miami heat coach erik spoelstra tweeted that some of his players were "crying in the locker room" after a season-series sweep of losses at the hands of the chicago bulls. it launched a monday morning debate about weakness, leadership, privacy in the locker room, and a coach's responsibility to protect his players.

so what if a basketball player was expressing himself after a loss, one that obviously mattered to him? why should emotional displays be limited to women? tears come from frustration, exhaustion, grief, anger, or joy. or any combination. or sometimes we dont even know why we're crying. those are my favorite tears.

when kevin garnett pounds his chest, screams to high heaven, then proceeds to dismantle his opponent, his intensity and display are lionized. tears are of the same coin, and whether it's bill withers or the miami heat, they show a whole, human man moving through the world. how exhausting must it be to maintain a masculine front, with so much going on inside?

Erin Mckeown | ain’t nothing neutral in how i feel

Item.Title | Add Prefix to five Feeds — Fri, 18 Feb 2011 00:44:00 +0000

it's late, here in grenada MS. i'm out on tour, and i'm just getting to the hotel after my 7th show in a row. 3 more to go before a day off monday in austin. so you can see why i have been behind a bit in my po-litical work. let's catch up....

there's some important net neutrality stuff happening this week. house republicans succeeded today in attaching an addendum to the upcoming spending bill that would block funding for the recently adopted FCC net neutrality principles. except now we call it "the open internet order" because the republicans have commandeered and poisoned the term "net neutrality". either way this is seriously important stuff. it directly affects how we will access information and how new applications and platforms are developed (and by whom). for a primer here. watch me talk about it here.

here's what i have been able to do this week, in between hauling gear, selling CDs, and driving our rented minivan through chicago, st louis, kansas city, oklahoma city, memphis and new orleans:

a letter to congress that myself and some other incredible artists have signed on to.

and a site that gives you 3 specific actions that you can take on this issue:

it's really easy to get involved. and the fight will continue on way past feb.17th.

Erin Mckeown | green and yellow

Item.Title | Add Prefix to five Feeds — Sun, 06 Feb 2011 17:38:00 +0000

i just finished the latest version of my "Cabin Fever" webseries. episode 5 was "Songs About Sports". in it, i took wiz khalifa's "black and yellow", followed the lead of some awesome MCs (Prophetic & Pizzle, Lil Wayne) and did my own version for the green bay packers. go pack go!

you can watch the complete episode here.

lyrics below the vid, check em out, because i didnt get all of it right in the performance:

yeah, ah hah, you know what it is

everything i do, i do it big

3 feet of snow, that's nothing

western mass, keep on dumping

step into my cabin you know everything

green and yellow, green and yellow

cabin fever, we webcasting

green and yellow, green and yellow

2 teams, big game

1 quarterback droppin my name

hotter than the hottest flame

aaron rodgers spells it different

but we shine the same

i drop tracks like a quarterback drops back

tossing deep cuts off like a triple threat wild cat

not an athelete but still a player like that

green like the earth, yellow gold like money

the riches go to those who play as one, see

the politics of a non-profit corporation

i'm a citizen of a democratic packer nation

steel city's a dope place, yes

but i will never ever root for a rapist

Erin Mckeown | the times, they are new orleans

Item.Title | Add Prefix to five Feeds — Wed, 19 Jan 2011 21:45:00 +0000

i've got a routine like anyone else in the northeast: work and snow. but i'm just getting back from breaking that routine and visiting a place that continues to be a touchpoint for every important conversation going on in our country.

i've been to new orleans now 8 times, 5 before and 3 after. i've been to play shows, to write, and to record an album. i've passed through with friends; i went once for a retreat with like-minded activist artists. this time i went for a novel purpose: vacation.

i did all the touristy things i never do. we rode the street cars. we ate at coop's, the camellia, and cafe du monde. we visited cemetaries and museums. we went to see brad pitt's houses he's building in the 9th ward. we walked and walked and walked. we stayed with friends. we slept alot. unconventional as it was as a "vacation" choice, we definitely got away from our own lives for a few days.

but new orleans has changed. it isnt the city i remembered from my last trip, taking small but firm steps toward recovery. or the city i had fixed in my mind from "before". it felt like an entirely different place.

perhaps it was the process of sharing it with someone who had never been there before that caused this feeling. perhaps it was my own life changing and shifting, such that i cant see a familiar place in the same way. this is, in fact, one of my favorite reasons to travel, re-read a book, or watch a movie again. how do we feel returning to the same place? it's usually that the place stays constant in its solid mass of buildings, streets, and natural contours, and thus we see the change in ourselves as we age and shift.

yet new orleans has changed in a way beyond what i know has changed in me. i dont know why this has surprised me so much. part of the magic of new orleans is that it has never been a place you could pin down or categorize. i have never been to any place like it, and at times, it can feel other-worldly. and when i say that it is a touchpoint for every important conversation going on in our country, consider what that means. economic recovery, urban renewal, arts economies, gun violence, race relations, gentrification, corruption, music, and politics- new orleans has something from experience to contribute to all these national dialogues.

but, for better or for worse, change in new orleans has always happened at a snail's pace. the government is notoriously slow, the erosion of the inner city has been like an acid river eating at the walls of a canyon, and the post-flood recovery has inched back. katrina was a sudden, but inevitable, cataclysm of water built on years and years of neglect, a man-made disaster fomenting for decades.

yet something has moved too fast now in new orleans. i think it is two-part.

first, i recognized some familiar signs that i have seen elsewhere traveling the country these last two years. vacant store-fronts sit next to vacant store-fronts. "for sale" signs emblazon house after house. there are more people lining up for services and fewer people on the streets outside their houses. in a time of foreclosures, unemployment, and isolation, the recession has left its inimitable mark here, as elsewhere.

secondly, there is a new tension in parts of the city. before going, a friend had warned us to be careful:

"new orleans isnt safe," she said, referring to some recent gun violence, sexual assaults, and a warehouse fire that claimed the lives of several young people. the underlying fear in her statement was that new orleans wasnt safe for white people.

i hate these kind of statements: alarmist on the surface, masking many more complicated factors underneath. rather than keeping any one person safe, they only make everyone more mistrustful and on edge. many people unconsciously conflate race and class, expressing class tension by perpetuating racial fears. this kind of thinking isn't new to new orleans, either. the tension that poverty brings has been a defining factor there for a long time.

we stayed in a neighborhood called the bywater, a place i have called home every time i have visited new orleans. the bywater is technically part of the 9th ward, but as its particular mix and motion became more pronounced, it acquired its own neighborhood designation. the bywater has been slowly gentrifying for the last 20 years. again the emphasis is on slowly.

so what was different this visit was this: a neighborhood that was for a long time a unique and vibrant mix of race, class, and occupation, has been suddenly infested by young white street kids. and it is not just in the bywater. it's in treme, the 7th ward, the upper 9th. here is an article from the times-picayune that came out while we were there. it explains who these kids are, but it also, rather predictably, leaves out a real exploration of the tensions they are causing.

this has happened fast.
and it's highly visible.
and it makes me so sad.
and it makes me uncomfortable.
and it makes me examine myself and my motives for being in new orleans. what am i contributing to the city as i visit each time- as a tourist or for work? when i walk around new orleans, am i afraid? if so, why? and why do i feel so sad about "new orleans being new orleans", that this dynamic city has changed again and will continue to change?

new orleans interrupts a lot of easy narratives with the hard facts of its reality. we saw this interruption on a global scale after katrina, a third world city made visible, a blight on the mythic narrative of our first world self-image (our dirty secret: in america, many many people- disproportionately of color- live in systemic poverty). in that same way, visiting new orleans interrupts my own easy narratives of a city where diversity exists without tension, where the grand unifier of music colors the landscape with a rose colored lens, where i can just pop in with my white-ness and economic mobility, soaking in the "real-ness" as i get inspired. and then i leave, back to my own comfortable, functional life. i'm trying to take responsibility for myself here. i'm trying to notice my own privelege, predilictions, and fantasies.

and then, i get mad.

no, crust punks, you dont get to just drop in with your dogs, jeans as tights, and thick framed glasses. somebody used to live in that abandoned house you're squatting in. ever wonder why they're gone?

Erin Mckeown | reading rainbow- 2010 wrap up edition

Item.Title | Add Prefix to five Feeds — Thu, 30 Dec 2010 21:03:00 +0000

it's been too long since i took the time to write a blog. i am always so full of ideas, and less full of execution. who out there in the tubes can relate?

i do want to remind regular readers that i spent a substantial portion of my fall blogging over here as part of my "distillation 10th anniversary tour". if you missed it, you can still catch up and grab lots of free music downloads.

i usually try to do some kind of year end wrap-up on the blog. 2010 was a highly varied year for me... i began it with a grueling super DIY european tour (read: lots of trains, dragging around lots of stuff), and i ended it with the "distillation" anniversary project. in between i acted in a play for the first time, joined a softball team (though i had never played before), and went on tour to alaska. for a "down" year in an album cycle, i was incredibly busy.

2011 looks to be more of the same. i wonder if this is the new shape of "making" it in the music industry? we put even more irons in the fire, more pots on the stove, start more and more income streams. however, you want to put it, creative people in 2011 are going to be doing many more little things to add up to what the one big thing used to be. that suits my restless nature just fine. more on that as we get into 2011.

meanwhile, i thought the 2010 wrap up would be some thoughts on my favorite books i read this year. i've included links to more info about them, but please consider asking your local bookseller first before you buy online.

Zeitoun by Dave Eggers
tells the story of a small business owner who stays in new orleans as the katrina floodwaters rise. i could not put this book down. i have been to new orleans many times, and i have seen and heard firsthand what happened during the flood, but this book makes a page turner out of real-life. which just made me angrier than ever about the aftermath of katrina.

Then We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris
we liked it. we really did. in spite of ourselves and our best efforts otherwise, this book gnawed at that desperate place we all try to ignore, the place that says our cubicle is the best we can hope for. and so we told people about this book. we had to. we wanted to share that something that we couldnt name that made this book so good- not only to make sure we weren't left out of important book conversations, but really because in the end, we are all incredibly lonely.

Decoded by JAY-Z
ok, so i'm not totally finished with this one. it just came in the mail the other week, but i've been super into it. i'm not a JAY-Z fan. something in there hasnt connected for me. i'm still not, even though i hands-down love this book. i feel queasy when i read about JAY's constant devotion to capitalism (or entrepreneurship- depending on your politics). i think the exposition of lyrics is borderline pretentious. but i appreciate the honesty and the vignettes of day-to-day life leading to unique observations of humans.

State by State ed. by Matt Weiland and Sean Wilsey
what a great companion on my travels this year. i tried to read the relevant entries as i went to each place! 50 essays from non-travel writers... and each has a different connection to the state: tourist, native, moved there for a job, spent time there as a kid, never predictable. in the same way i was reminded of why i like "friday night lights" so much. you know there is gonna be a football game, but sometimes it happens early in the episode, or later, in part or whole, or sometimes it's just referred to: anticipated or in the afterglow.

Floodlines by Jordan Flaherty
i heard jordan speak at an event and had to buy his book after. it's a great history of new orleans, activism in the city, and ways that community has responded to the katrina flood. it also documents how the resistance community formed in new orleans post-katrina has impacted other social justice work outside of NOLA.

The Macrophenomenal Pro Basketball Almanac by FreeDarko
is it cheating that my favorite book of the year is more graphic novel than wordy read? no! not when you love sports as much as i do! i got hipped to this book through an article on the freedarko blog that described rajan rondo as a shark. not in the usual "he's gonna kill you" way, but in this way that took into account a modern sense of dislocation, exacerbated by technology, and the unique emotional wallop of good sports story. the almanac breaks down the games of the top current NBA players via schematic diagrams, charts, and whimsicle illustrations. did i ever mention i want to start a second career as a sportswriter?

and as a bonus (just for you) i'll share my first book of 2011: Preaching with Sacred Fire: An Anthology of African American Sermons 1750-Present. i got it for christmas from somebody who knows exactly how to make my heart melt.

Erin Mckeown | the fight for net neutrality

Item.Title | Add Prefix to five Feeds — Wed, 15 Dec 2010 21:13:00 +0000

if you've been following the news lately (or me for awhile), you'll know that on 21st DEC the FCC will be ruling on "net neutrality" (the ability to access legal, online content without interference, gate-keeping, or tolls from your internet service provider). i've worked on this issue for some time, from my cabin fever series to my latest "distillation anniversary webcast" this fall from chicago.

my friends at future of music coalition have posted this clear wishlist for the homestretch of this fight. check it out here.

and i thought i would take a sec and post the comments i submitted last spring to the FCC in support of clear net neutrality rules:

Comments submitted to Federal Communications Commission in support of Net Neutrality. Spring 2010.

Hello, FCC! My name is Erin McKeown, and I have been a professional musician, writer and producer for the last 14 years. I'm 32 and currently live in rural western Massachusetts, but my career has taken me all over the world, playing an estimated 200 gigs per year.

In those 14 years, I have recorded ten albums and 3 EPs for a variety of labels. I began on my own, releasing my music via the internet and touring while I was still an undergrad at Brown University. From there, I signed to a small independent label, Signature Sounds in 1999, a mini-major, Nettwerk, in 2002, and I am currently with the indie label Righteous Babe Records. Along the way, I have performed on "Late Night with Conan O’ Brien,” "Later with Jools Holland” and have been featured in theLondon Times, the New York Times, People Magazine, Entertainment Weekly, on NPR and many other fine radio stations at home and abroad.

As an independent artist with a committed fanbase, the internet is the engine that powers my career. I use it to disseminate information to my fans (tour dates, record releases, etc.), maintain a virtual storefront for my music and other merchandise, and interact with fans via my blog, social networks, and my youtube channel. I communicate with my support team — agent, manager, label, etc. — mainly via the internet and use my website both publicly and privately to present new work, move large files, and facilitate business transactions. I have almost 2,000 Twitter followers, more than 3,500 Facebook fans and an email list of over 20,000. To me, this represents the power of an independent artist to reach audiences across multiple platforms, all made possible by the internet.

This summer, I used the internet for a very specific project in support of my latest album. “Cabin Fever” was a series of "house concerts" that allowed me to continue to connect with fans, offset my recording debt and contribute to a broader conversation about how the internet fits into our daily lives. For the series, we broadcast live over the web from my house in rural western Massachusetts. Fans could subscribe to the series or purchase individual episodes to watch live or later on-demand. In passing the “virtual hat,” I connected to the longstanding tradition of communities coming together to support art. Each concert had a specific theme and location: my living room, my porch, my river and my front yard. Fans could chat with each other as they watched and even send in requests. In his keynote speech at the 2009 Future of Music Policy Summit, FCC Chairman Genachowski highlighted my "Cabin Fever" series as one of the most creative ways that musicians were pushing the boundaries of the internet for communication, commerce, and creativity.

I began my career in 1996, right as the internet was becoming widely available and affordable. My career has never existed apart from this technology, and I often feel that the internet and I have gone through some growing pains together. For as much as the internet has made communication with fans easier, self-promotion easier, access to music and video easier, it has also created an extremely crowded marketplace. As a 21st-century artist, it is a greater challenge to find and retain a mass audience than perhaps my predecessors experienced. That said, I now have more tools, direct access to my fans, and many more creative options to express myself via the internet than ever before. And I don’t need to depend on outside entities to determine how and when I communicate with audiences.

As a copyright owner and someone who makes a substantial portion of their income from record sales, the rise of illegal filesharing via the internet has had a direct and detrimental affect on my bottom line. However, I view with great dismay some of the tactics that ISPs, record labels, and copyright owners employ to disproportionately punish illegal downloaders. I believe we should shift the debate and resources away from punishing and policing and more toward the question of “how can we make being a creative person a viable vocation?” I do not think illegal downloading of content can be currently mitigated in any way that doesn’t impact privacy, fair use and the lawful exchange of material — audio, or otherwise. Future policy should not be guided by punitive or restrictive approaches, but rather by answering a basic question: does the policy inhibit expression and the cultural/economic potential of creative people?

Another important point to consider is access. For me, it’s a twofold question: how do I get online at home and how do I get online when traveling? At home, I currently use DSL bundled with my phone. My other ISP options would be cable or satellite. But do not own a TV, so DSL was the most affordable and appropriate option. However, in making that decision, I did not have any choice as to a DSL provider. I have regularly experienced issues with the quality of my connection, and, living in a rural area, resolution of these problems has been slow. I know people just a few miles down my road who still don’t have access to high-speed internet at all. There is also no wireless coverage where I live. I don’t think that a creative person or any other entrepreneur should be forced to relocate simply because they lack a connection to such a vital communications platform.

My life on the road is a different story. Internet access when traveling is a must. So much of my business requires constant communication that I’ve become my own office, and I require connectivity at all times. I choose to use an iPhone with a data package which has been extremely helpful, otherwise I end up at the mercy of a hotel that often charges charge me $25/day for slow internet (and even more for better speeds). Only in emergencies will I pay that much for internet, and even then it seems overpriced. For moving large files and activities like updating my website, I often find myself hoping that a venue will have a free wireless network that I can connect to. If I cant find anything else I will find a cafe, but it is not my preference.

Moving forward, it is vital that we expand broadband internet access to as many people as possible, regardless of location and socioeconomic status. As more of the world functions “virtually,” we run the risk of leaving behind vast segments of our own society. We should spend the money now, lest we end up spending lots more down the road. Why create a digital underclass when we have the option not to?

I also believe that net neutrality principles should apply to the wireless space. A different and perhaps conflicting set of rules for those two platforms would only result in more ways for companies to take advantage of consumers. I am suspicious of the argument that net neutrality would somehow "inhibit competition"— as I see it, there’s not a lot of competition to begin with. Net neutrality rules would be necessary and positive provisions that would encourage innovation and protect consumers (and creators’) right to expression.

I often think of "access" on the internet as equivalent to "speech" in the Constitution. Where we can freely access the internet, where we can speak freely, read freely, educate ourselves and others without interference, we engage in the same democratic process that inspired the vibrant and diverse country in which we live. The internet as it was conceived is a democratic place, allowing equal access to information.

Unfortunately, this isn’t always the case in practice. Just as not everyone in this country gets a fair shake, not everyone has the same level of access to the internet. But if it can’t be a truly free marketplace of ideas, then at least we should know what the rules are. An internet user is a consumer of information, and as such should be afforded the same protections and level of transparency that we’d expect to be placed on any other product. Net neutrality rules would be a major step forward in guaranteeing that all users — creators, innovators, small businesses and regular citizens — have the means to compete in a legitimate marketplace that isn’t slanted to favor only the powerful players.

As the internet continues to grow and evolve, I thank you for your efforts to maintain its openness and transparency.

Erin Mckeown | the final inning + last free download

Item.Title | Add Prefix to five Feeds — Tue, 23 Nov 2010 20:52:00 +0000

the last download of this project is a live version of “the little cowboy” from our show on 8 OCT in Portland ME. it features the awesome slide playing of “distillation” producer dave chalfant. thanks to everyone who came out to the shows, watched the webcast, and took home some anniversary schwag!

as i wrap up the anniversary project, i’ve been thinking that being a musician is a little like being a professional athelete. if you’re in a band, you’re like a baseball team; if you’re me, you’re like a tennis player. but check this out:

in many of the same ways, the business of sports and the music industry reward youth. travel and performance are physically demanding, especially over a long period of time. you ride an emotional rollercoaster, getting yourself up every night for a game or a gig, and riding your adreneline until you crash- in victory or defeat. only to do it again the next day, in the next town. from the outside, the life appears glamorous, but behind the scenes the work of practice is hard and the down time is often incredibly boring. both demand endless self-promotion and an ego of a certain size and toughness to weather the grueling work and inevitable rejections.

older atheletes will tell you that what they lose in flexibility, speed, or stamina, they make up for with experience, wisdom, and wiles developed over seasons. the same is true with music. my listening skills only get deeper the older i get. my writing continues to hone itself of its own accord through repetition. what my hands can no longer do, i’m learning to do with my voice. the pleasure of music, the nuance in the art, is only growing deeper and more apparent to me.

doug glanville, a former pro baseball player, wrote a fabulous blog last year for the new york times. one of his entries described the end of an athlete’s playing career. as a certain pitcher said it, you never stop loving playing the game, you stop loving preparing to play the game.

when i read that, my heart leapt. i feel exactly the same way, and like in so many other ways in my life, sports is able to articulate something i couldnt otherwise put my finger on.

in the past few years, i’ve been building an identity and community outside the music industry. one that is more consistent and not based on someone else’s approval. i have a community that cares for me whether i have 2000 twitter followers or none, whether i have a new album or not. i’ve worked so hard for so long in an all-consuming business, that i didnt know the toll it was taking on my body or my spiritual life. now that i have slowed down, it’s painfully obvious to me.

i’m not gonna stop playing music. i can’t. it’s how i think, how i express myself, where i find joy and creative fufillment. i absolutely love getting to meet all the folks who have supported my music for so long. but in many ways, my playing days are done. the “distillation” anniversary project has allowed me to see that and to celebrate the hard work i’ve put in so far. i say that from a place of acceptance and excitement about what my future holds.

as i sit here this november, looking ahead to 2011, i’ve got an awful lot on my plate. i’m starting to write a new record. i’ll be heading to a few more conferences this year to share and connect with inspiring minds of all sorts. i’m going to put more time into my acting. i’m going to start a production studio. i want to do a bike tour and collaborate with some new artists. and, who knows, maybe i’ll go into coaching.

Erin Mckeown | go west, young man + free download

Item.Title | Add Prefix to five Feeds — Wed, 03 Nov 2010 20:55:00 +0000

as i head to the west coast, this week’s download is “love in 2 parts”, which ends the album “distillation” and opens the anniversary shows. it is most definitely one song and describes a relationship i was in that was… shall we say, manic. it also mentions the incredible burden of rent in the bay area!

…………….

looking back on the early years of my career, i’m surprised at the kind of travel craziness i used to sign up for. i routinely hopped planes, cars, and buses in the same day- early in the morning, long after gigs, and often carrying obscene amounts of gear by my lonesome.

from the very beginning of my career, it’s been important to me to play as far and wide as possible. so even before it was financially feasible or responsible, i was trooping off to the west coast or overseas. i have always just wanted to be out there, beyond the friendly confines (and perceptions) of the northeast US.

so, in this dire economic climate, and even more dire music industry epoch, i’m heading out to the west coast to bring the “distillation anniversary tour” to Oregon, Washington, and California. my shoestring budget and creative travel decisions are reminding me of the first tour i ever did on the west coast, in the summer of 1998.

at the time, i had just finished my second year of college, and i was on my way to that rite of passage known as “time off”. but before i settled in for a fall of finding myself, i decided to play on the west coast. i had a few friends in LA who helped me get my first gig- at a place called “fais dodo”. i made calls and sent packages and eventually hooked up enough gigs to get me to seattle.

even though i was 21, i somehow was able to rent a car, which i gigged out of all the way up the coast. i remember stopping for a few days in san luis obispo, where the gig came with a night at the local hostel. then it was on to san francisco (first gigs: a berkelely house concert, then the bearded lady). from san francisco, i ditched my rental and got on a greyhound bus heading north. i stopped for a gig in redding, before hitting eugene and portland. i stuck around for a few days with friends in portland then headed up to olympia, seattle, and bellingham, again by bus.

i met alot of musicians like myself- hungry, happy, making it work somehow. i crashed with friends and did a lot of walking. and i carried everything i needed in a frame pack, including a tiny guitar amp. i brought one guitar and rolled a cardboard box of cassettes along behind me, strapped to a folding cart.

i felt exhilarated, playing for 20, sometimes 25 people. i wasnt tired. sometimes, i was scared, especially when i had a lot of time to kill and no place to hang my hat. i kind of marvel looking back on it now. how did i know what to do? how did it all work out so well?