(Playing in LA with Brandy Clark, 2021)
Compare these descriptions of two musicians in 2022:
First:
opened arena shows for one of the biggest country stars
was a session player on two major label albums
produced and recorded their fourth original album
performed on worldwide TV stations
toured in the USA, the UK, Europe, and Australasia
represented four major music gear companies
taught dozens of musicians
Second:
spent six months of the year primarily working in a retail shop
earned 25% of their overall income from gigs
earned 75% of their overall income from non-music work
Does the second description sound like someone you would perceive to be unsuccessful?
If someone has a non-music job, do you assume they’re not a good musician?
Maybe you’ve already guessed - but both the above descriptions are me.
Here’s a confession… for the last few years, music hasn’t been my full-time job.
While doing my taxes this month, I realized just how small a percentage of my income actually comes from music now.
I’m telling you about it because too many musicians still feel like failures if they can’t make music their full-time job, and it’s something that needs to stop.
In 2019, I was a full-time musician, touring with Brandy Clark and Sugarland, playing theatres and arenas, and making 100% of my income from touring work and in-town Nashville gigs.
It was the first time I’d been truly free of all other side hustles, part-time jobs, and teaching, and I felt like I had finally done it. After twenty years, I’d finally checked the monumental goal of becoming a full-time performer off the list.
But then 2020 hit, all touring vanished, and my professional life changed - maybe forever.
In 2020 I made some money from music but spent most of my time working with my partner in his summer retail business. I spent countless hours helping him pivot his brick-and-mortar store to an e-commerce shop and navigate the new no-contact retail landscape of a Covid world. It was hard work and a huge change practically and emotionally from my life on the road, but in the midst of Covid uncertainty, I was grateful to have an income and something to focus my time and attention on.
In 2021 touring started to creep back, but not to the level we had left in 2019, and not enough to live on. I kept working at the store - balancing my sporadic music work with what was now feeling more like our business as I became more involved with merchandising and marketing.
In 2022, music stepped up another level, with more touring, more TV work, and more recording projects popping up. But it was still not enough to live on, and I worked through the summer in the store, leaving periodically for a tour or to spend a few days in the studio.
I could have hustled last year to get more of the lower-paid pick-up gigs in Nashville and get back to making a full-time living from gigging again. But I realized something fundamental had shifted for me over the previous few years: gigging purely to make ends meet had lost its appeal.
I gig now because I want to.
I accept offers to play with artists I like and whose music I enjoy, and the flushness of my bank account is no longer the key factor in my decision-making.
I’m lucky to have a regular gig with Brandy Clark because I love her music, and I find it easier to be available for things that pop up with her because I’m not filling my schedule with any gig I can get my hands on because I’m too broke to say no.
I’m also able to say yes to one-off gigs and short runs, filling in for artists I’ve never worked with before and who joining is a musical pleasure.
I can even choose to lose money on a weekend run or project with a newer artist or band if I think it’s going to be creatively satisfying.
And I can do all this because I have a non-music job with the flexibility to let me leave when I need to, but also because I’ve finally come to a place in my life where being able to say, “I’m a full-time musician,” doesn’t matter to me anymore.
I realized that bragging rights don’t pay the bills or make me happy.
I’m a bass player who plays arena shows, performs on TV, tours the world, represents the biggest gear companies in the world, records for major artists, and I make the majority of my income helping run a retail business.
Being full-time doesn’t mean you’re a better player than someone who isn’t, just as being part-time doesn’t make you a failure.
Whether full-time, part-time, professional, or hobbyist: set your creative and financial life up in a way that makes sense to you.
Only you can decide what that is.