Don't be afraid of grief or heartthrob; don't be intimidated by rock stars or presidents; be a slave to love and always remember: twenty rejections in a row are wiped out by one acceptance.
- Allen Ginsberg, poet
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As I pack my bags for a trip to New York for the four-day CMJ Music Marathon, I can't help thinking that the annual summit hosted by College Music Journal, featuring hundreds of acts and more than 50 panels, had better knock itself out to compete with last weekend's inaugural Southeast Music Conference in St. Petersburg.
Think I'm kidding?
SMC may have been tiny, it may have been disorganized and financially unlucrative, but it was a mighty, pure and beautiful thing. A labor of love.
And, it was fun. Have you ever seen so many music freaks hug each other over the course of a weekend?
A huge success, I say.
SMC's three organizers, including head honcho Joran Oppelt, agree. Oppelt, uncertain before the conference, vows there will be an SMC 2004.
That thrills me. I wish we could have an SMC every weekend to show off the amazing Tampa Bay area musical talent. I caught many of the showcases by the 40 bands in 48 hours thanks to the walking distance between venues, short sets and terrific weather. (Isn't downtown St. Pete the perfect place to catch live music?) Judging by the crowds at the Globe, the Emerald and the State Theatre, I wasn't alone.
I was struck by how polished every band and solo performer sounded. They were tight. It's goofy, I know, but I was filled with pride. I'm not sure if any industry reps were in the crowds to check out our home-team kids. I didn't notice any guys-in-suits on cell phones or detect any hipsters like those on the "Adios Johnny Bravo" episode of the Brady Bunch: Remember the hippie couple who wanted to make Greg a star just because he "fit the suit"?
It doesn't matter if out-of-towners or big shots were in the crowd. What matters is the musicians played their hearts out. They sounded excellent. Put on terrific shows. And each was cheered by an enthusiastic crowd.
The venues may not have been Madison Square Garden, and you know what? When you play the way these musicians played, who cares?
Which is a point four of us "industry people" made on our Saturday panel, "Getting The Name Out There." A young musician asked during a Q&A how to keep from getting frustrated if he can't get his band on a rock station, or if he continues to play for the same five people at the local bar. We told him, basically, to thank his lucky stars for those five grateful fans. Some folks never get their music outside their bedroom.
And, really, is fame what it's all about? And if so, how big is enough?
If it matters, SMC changed plenty for me. Sure, I'd seen plenty of the bands on the bill before, but some of them, never. A few of the bands I had heard a buzz about, but several were completely new to me. I walked away from SMC knowing the names of many new bands. I left excited about several artists I didn't even know about when I was getting dressed Friday morning.
I'm not alone. I talked with dozens of people over the weekend who discovered new favorites.
That's what conferences like SMC are about. Not getting signed as much as getting noticed. And starting a buzz. Word of mouth is loud. And it gets around. Sure, everyone dreams of having someone at a conference get signed. Dozens of artists at SMC have the chops to be on a major label. Someday that may happen. SMC 2005? This year, the seeds are planted. The word is out: Very good musicians are in our own back yard.
HAVE YOU HUGGED A LOCAL MUSICIAN TODAY?: The four of us on that panel also discussed a big challenge facing the bay area music scene: It continues to play for itself.
These musicians know how good they are. The community outside of the music scene does not. Why?
Unfortunately, folks in our area often dismiss local music. Except for a clued-in few, many in the Tampa Bay area seem to think it's not worth paying to see a local band if its members are from the same neighborhood. They'll lay down money for a band from out of town, or a national touring band, but the idea of paying to see a local play guitar tonight when that guy is the same guy who did the brake job on your Honda this morning - forget it!
That's a shame.
If all music scenes felt that way, we'd be in big trouble. Momentum would never build. A buzz about a band would never grow.
Imagine if, in the early 1980s, in Athens, Ga., all the college kids didn't go see R.E.M. or the B-52's just because they were "local bands"?
What if nobody wanted to see the Replacements or Husker Du - or Prince - in Minneapolis in the mid 1980s?
Those bands put those cities on the musical map.
Those bands created a scene.
Remember grunge in Seattle in the early 1990s? Nirvana and Pearl Jam were once just local bands from Seattle. You could see each for five bucks at a run-down dive.
And, once upon a time, four guys called the Beatles were just a band from Liverpool that the kids in Hamburg, Germany, liked an awful lot.
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HIGHLIGHTS FROM SMC: What was more fun, relishing the acoustic solo set by conference guest John Doe of X, or hanging out with Doe at the Emerald as he enjoyed sets by Arcade Inferno and Crippled Masters? During the rowdy Arcade Inferno set, the hard-core duo inspired some young punks to create a brief mosh pit that upturned the table where festival organizer Margaret Murray sat. Murray, 38, handled it in blase, been-there-done-that, old-school punk fashion, merely scooting back her chair, making room for the hoodlums.
The buzz about St. Pete's Shotgun Wedding threatens to keep us all up at night and the band's SMC showcase will only make it louder: The noirish trio debuted a batch of new songs, performing a flawless set, punctuated by Johnny McCarthy's sharp upright bass playing (with a bow!) and singer James McFarland's uh-oh, the-boy-next-door's-gone-creepy persona.
Rebekah Pulley won me over with a sublime set of sultry, rootsy tunes steeped in her own acoustic guitar and backing pedal-steel guitar. What a lovely, lilting voice. (Pulley performs at 7 tonight as part of a spoken word collaboration with writer Bob Kazaan at the Globe coffee house in St. Petersburg.)
Four Star Riot performed a skin-tight set at the State Theatre. Hands down, my Rock Star of the Conference Award goes to singer-guitarist Steve Alex, he of the adorably messy hair, skinny tie and jiggly leg action. (Somebody call Jimmy Fallon and tell him his 15 minutes as "It Boy" are up.) Zanesville's set at the State left me speechless. Here's a band I knew nothing about before SMC until guitarist Jeff Godsell handed me the band's debut disc. It sounded great, so I checked out Zanesville's evening showcase and wow! This punky trio rocks.
AS FOR COVER SONGS: Wasn't Sparky's Nightmare's rendition of Johnny Cash's Ring Of Fire a touching tribute? Let us also praise Car Bomb Driver for a delightfully delirious set at the Emerald, wherein the old-school punk band did a barrage of covers including Judas Priest's Breaking The Law.
Hugs were happening, drinks were flowing. Amps were cranked to 10. St. Petersburg did it, our first music conference. Those of us used to pounding the pavement in Austin, New York and other cities in search of music of other scenes couldn't believe it was happening here. DJ Flee, from community radio station WMNF-FM 88.5, told me he couldn't believe for once we didn't have to leave home for a conference. I agreed. It felt strange. What will feel even stranger is in the future.
When we make the music lovers come to us.
- Gina Vivinetto is the Times pop music critic. E-mail her at gina@sptimes.com
