Having just experienced the birthing of a solo album from conception to release, I've been reflecting lately on what it means to be an independent artist in 2018, and more specifically, how I see myself and my career trajectory.
Though to me it's not really the point, my music now generates a small amount of revenue. (It generates expenses far more magnanimously.) Still, I'm not yet approaching even the middle rungs of indie music success and am not sure I'm willing to do all it would take to get there. So, I must be a hobbyist, right?
Well, no. Hobbyists don't pour vast sums of their own money into mixing, mastering and artwork to create a professional product. Nor do they press hundreds of CDs, mail half of them around the world, track college radio airplay or design a cracking website in order to showcase and promote their work, all of which I've done in the past year.
This limbo-land I find myself inhabiting—my music being neither a hobby nor a full-blown career—has led me to redefine what I do as a micro-career. Now, I'm not using the term in the way your local employment centre might. For me, a micro-career is more along the lines of Robert Fripp's conception of "a small, mobile, intelligent unit." Instead of trying to smash through my limitations (financial, social, technical, musical), I'm working with them. With, not within. At times I stretch my comfort zone; at other times, I pull back. The material rewards may be few, but the artistic integrity is beyond price. To put it less weightily, I'm doing what I can, when I can, as I can, and letting that suffice.
The first fruit of this re-visioning is my upcoming micro-tour, scheduled for May-June. My last proper tour was over 20 years ago, and it brings back (mostly) fond memories; but I'm simply unable to tour on that sort of scale now, nor do I really want to. I find the prospect of booking shows daunting and long-distance travel is impractical, even more so for a non-driver. But I do miss the thrill of playing several gigs in a concentrated time frame, not knowing what the next venue or audience would bring. Drawing on Toronto's vibrant open stage scene, I've "booked" a micro-tour that'll let me experience just that—minus the endless highway, tedium, expense and pressure. On micro-tour, I can even eat meals at home and sleep in my own bed.
I'm still fleshing out what a micro-career in music looks like in other ways, and should I gain further insight you'll hear from me again. Perhaps (for me, anyway) its defining characteristic is this: I can forge a modest yet artistically rewarding career path on my terms, as I am able, and that feels immensely liberating.