The minimum wage is up to five pound seventy at the end of the year. That's about £230 before stoppages. It's not a lot, but I suppose it's something. I like us here in the UK having a minimum wage, but I do see the problems employers have with it. I sympathise with them if I'm honest, but I still think it's a good thing.
Money.
I ofter wonder what I'd do if I couldn't play piano and didn't know enough about music to teach it. What would I do with no trade, and the only option open to me was staking shelves or cleaning?
Well, as I said to Julie, most jobs aren't bad, it's not the work that's bad, it's people that make work intolerable. Ask anyone who's had to work with the public, or had a boss that's a right twat.
Up until last year I had a CORGI gas fitter's certificate, which meant I could earn a decent wad anywhere, but when I gave that up I took a big chance on earning my money from music. One week, just after I took the jump, I earned only eighty quid. Not good.
When you're self employed you think a lot about money. Because you're always chasing it, always asking for it. Most people get paid monthly into a bank account and never have to think about telling someone how much money they want. They are told what they are worth. .
When I was nineteen I was out of work, it was a bad time for young people getting work. I told my Mum "I'm going out today and not coming back till I've got a job". I went to the site office in a building site in Wordsley and asked the foreman for a job. He took me on as a labourer. I didn't want to tell my Mum I'd only got a job as a labourer, a job anyone with a strong back could do, I was afraid she'd think I was a dunce, I was afraid she'd think I'd lowered myself.
In later years she told me she'd never been more proud of me than that day. And I understand why now.
Work fascinates me. I had seventeen different jobs before I became self employed in 1991. And even now I have to do what I did when I was nineteen and go knocking on doors to get work. It's still the same, except now I'm playing piano instead of moving paving slabs or filling a skip. And I'm doing okay. I'm not rich, but I don't owe anyone a single bean and no-one ever tells me what to do, and these days, with the way things are, that's something.
I suppose the moral of the story is, there's dignity in any work that's honest, and you should never be afraid to try and do something better.
It's either that or believe in re-incarnation, and hope the next time round will deal you a better hand.
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Tribute bands.
I'm bloody sick of them. A vile pox on the the lot of them! Shit cake baker's dogs, each and every one.Scum sucking, pan handling, turd polishers, the lot of them.
Who, in their right mind, would want to join a band to simply copy another band? Where's the self-respect? Where's the dignity?
See, I've played in 'covers' bands before. It's fun, a couple of Stones songs, a little Chuck Berry, it's fun. Great songs should be played live 'till the sun burns out, no problem.
But Wednesday night I watched in disgust as this guy got on stage and did a Morrissey 'act', (and the crowd loved it). I didn't get it at all. What were they applauding? The band or an impersonation?This guy, if he'd have come on stage and said "Thanks for coming everyone, we're going to do some Smiths songs, some Mozza songs, hope you enjoy them. . " I might have warmed to him, but he came on doing the full Moz act, proclaiming "I am sick and I am dull and I am plain" (a Smith's lyric), before going into The Queen Is Dead doing all the moves. . it was naffer than belief. It was embarrassing, I felt like I was hiding in the cupbard watching some spotty teenager pretending to be Morrissey in front of his mirror. But no, the whole sorry act was being played out on-stage in front of adoring fans.
There's a guy that goes around doing Nick Drake stuff called Keith Foot. He's an amazing guitarist, he does a 'songs of Nick Drake' show, where he mixes Drake songs (which I love), with his own stuff and John Martyn stuff, it's a wonderful evening of music. He talks about the song's, explains "Nick used a wierd tuning on this". . and it's an example of how a performer can draw on another person's output with integrity. He dosen't dress, talk or sing like Nick Drake, and if you've ever heard a Drake record, you'd know that very few guitarists could play that stuff anyway. Similarly, if you go and see a Scotty Moore show (Elvis' fifties guitarist), there'll be someone singing Elvis songs. But it won't be a guy in a suit doing the moves, it'll be a real singer just singing the same songs, and it's great.
Where it all falls down, is when the impersonation creeps in, and the performance becomes an exersise in indulgence. And that's what I saw Wednesday. Someone indulging themselves.
See, it's when the show becomes mimicry, is when it becomes pantomime, and it loses it's credibility straight away. It's disingenuous. Impersonators, tribute acts. . a curse on the lot of them.
My message to them is. . get some self respect you sorry bunch of miscreants. The audience aren't there to see you, it's an empty ritual for dick-heads, with you as head dick.
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