Post album blues

There are 26 million songs on itunes.

It is said that 500-600 songs (English language) are released per week, adding up to nearly 30,000 songs per year. 

In 2009 there were over 7 million bands on myspace. 

There are currently an estimated 700k artists with band pages on Facebook.

500 million tweets are tweeted every day.

100 hours of video are uploaded to youtube every minute.

There is a high probability that some of these figures are made up.. but the moral of story is this: The world does not need more media.

This was my Monday.  I started the week feeling overwhelmed and generally depressed (which is highly unusual for me).  We finished mastering the new record a couple of weeks ago. The high of bringing a solid year of personally gratifying work to an end, had been slowly dissipating every day since then.  

I am a highly motivated person.  I gain energy by accomplishing tasks. The more focused I am on a goal, the happier I am in general.  I find my value and worth in what I can “do”. The hardest thing in the world for me is to just “be”. I feel helpless and confused and overwhelmed when my hands aren’t busy making or fixing, and my feet aren’t moving forward.

In my mind, the easy work is done. The enjoyable work is done. The work I know how to do is done.  Now comes the task of putting it out in to the world.  This scares me.

I don’t know why I have such an aversion to self promotion, I seriously loathe it. Sure, I could just dump it on itunes, tweet about it twice, and move on with life… I am a serial dumper/double tweeter (haha, that sounds dirty).  I actually feel guilty tweeting or posting or emailing all of you because… well, go back and read that first paragraph again!!  

But if I am truly honest and I examine my motives more deeply, I start to dig up some fear.  Fear that I’ll put myself out there and get rejected.  Fear that some kid who plays Call of Duty all day in his moms basement is gonna leave a nasty comment about how I need to lose 10 pounds on my youtube video…  

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And then I realize… I need to grow the hell up!  What the heck, is this high school?  Are the mean girls gonna tease me about the fact that I can’t afford babybel cheeses in my brown bag lunch? (Babybel cheese = metaphor for vast and expensive promotional campaign machine).  If yes, then b**ches, bring it on. Because I can make my own cheese, I’m crafty like that.  And it’s delicious.