Confessions of a Beat Junkie |
|---|
  |
Confessions of a Beat Junkie |
|---|
|
I examined my wallet yesterday, and noticed it’s been feel’en a bit lighter of late. The diet nowadays consists of Ramen Noodles, frozen chicken pot pies, and oven baked potatoes. I can't remember the last time I had disposable cash flow for activities like, a trip to Las Vegas or doing a shopping spree to update the wardrobe. There is a grip of envelopes on the kitchen table. The phone, electric, and MasterCard bills are all stacked in a nice neat pile. No joke, cash rules everything around me and those folks want their share.
Lemme see here...check the savings account...whoa! A meager 50 bucks! At least I have the bare minimum amount to clear a royalty or personal check, and I hope one of the previously mentioned comes in the mail soon. Real soon.
You see...I have this bad habit...an unquenchable appetite for producing hip-hop music. In my quest for unearthing beats, finding phat samples, twisting knobs and fine-tuning a decent mix, I’m behind the 8-ball once again. The sporadic work assignment temporary job shit isn’t cutt’en it. I’m broke sun!
I suppose a full-time job will shag me a consistent paycheck, but the creative powers will suffer, plus a jobby job will put me behind all these re-mixes and tracks I’ve been promising artists for months. This hip-hop game is definitely not lining the pockets...as a matter of fact; the game is putting me further in debt.
Due to my lack of monetary funds, I haven’t raided any record stores for weeks, contacted my studio engineer for months to lay new tracks, and there’re few pieces of music equipment collecting dust in the corner of my one bedroom flat in dire need of repair.
Life's a trip. One minute, you're throwing a CD release party with 300 paying patrons and the press hails you as the second coming of DJ Shadow. The next minute, you're producing radio commmercials for a local bowling alley and donating plasma 8 times a month for chump change. Sometimes your friendly neighborhood hip-hop producer feels the sting of fate's sharp stick.
Why do I put myself in these situations? If I don’t round up 500 bucks real quick, I might be out in the streets, couch surfing and shit, clashing forks with the great unwashed at some soup kitchen. Things could be worse, I got my health and all, but these types of circumstances can bring a man down. Hard times call for swift and decisive action........
I'm not a church going person, and I don't claim to be religious, however, it’s been years since my last confession (I was raised catholic) so there’s no time like the present to get on my knees and confess to some minor misdeeds...call it conflict resolution.
Lord forgive me for ignoring my parents and close relatives the last 4 years. Nah… I mean more like avoiding them like the plague. Skipping holidays and not returning phone calls and such. I’ve put my musical endeavors ahead of them at every turn. I promise to make good and call them next week, when I find some time...next week.
Lord forgive me for breaking my ex-girlfriends heart. She was the only girl where the word "marriage" and her first name fell into the same paragraph. However, she didn’t share my dreams of producing hip-hop classics, having DJ’s spin the records I made, and one day earning the respect of my peers. She wasn’t having it, she wanted me to get a real job and settle down. I promise to serve at the altar of bachlorhood and abstain from serious relationships.
And Lord…forgive for destroying my temple. I’ve drunk gallons upon gallons upon gallons of the barley, malt, and hops. I’ve smoked pounds of the green leafy herb...Ok Lord...you know, I’ve kept my smoking habits to a bare minimum lately, mostly on the weekends at social gatherings...but them frosty mugs be calling me man!
Amen.
Sooooo....now we're all caught up. Memory lane is closed for maintenance and I'm living for a better tomorrow. Everything is off my chest and it’s like...I have a positive state of mind again, a clean slate and all!
Better get on the phone and see what’s up tonight. I heard there’s a good soul/funk groove band out’a Chicago at The Green Room...and I know the owner, so I can get in for free and pay only half price for drinks. Oh yea…this DJ I know left me a message on my answering machine say'en he found some rare breaks...better hightail it over to his crib for a quick second. Snap! I just remembered, one of my production partners wanted to hook-up with me tonight, he’s tinkered around with some mixing and made some sequence changes on this track we did together. He wants final approval so we can send it off to this Canadian label and get the joint on a compilation album...gott’a check that out for sure. Damn! I haven’t updated the web site or checked email for a week! Since I don’t own a computer, I need to hustle down to the public library pronto. Shit! I’ve been working on this little hottie for 3 weeks now and I’ve been losing touch with her, I better chit-chat with her real soon or kiss that pretty little ass goodbye. Son of a bitch! The phone again! Hummm...caller I.D. says it’s some local cat. Great, this dude’s gonna wanna holla' at me for a half-hour to get the latest scoop on the music scene or ask for God knows what. Unbelievable, some of these headz disappear for months, hang with their girlfriends and do their "thing," then wanna jump on my bandwagon. I don't understand why folks put in minimal work and then expect ME, of all people, to fill in the blanks. Leave a message 'cause I need to get moving. I’ve got people to meet, beers to drink & hoes to mack on.
What choice do I have? It's back to cutting a trail in life's wild jungle.
Forgive me Lord