Rock and Roll Zen

Awaken your inner rock star

R.I.P. Johnny Winter: A True American Bluesman

by Leave a Comment

The world lost a true blues legend today. And I lost a hero. The original guitar hero.

They don’t make ’em like Johnny Winter anymore. Not even close. He was the bridge between American blues and rock and roll. His music blazed the trail for Southern rock like The Allman Brothers and Lynyrd Skynyrd. Muddy Waters called him his son because that’s what Johnny Winter was, the son of the blues.

This is the album and image I’ll always remember when I think of Johnny Winter. The quintessential rock star and guitar hero.

The Original Guitar Hero

The Original Guitar Hero

I remember my friend, Eric and I used to sit in his bedroom and listen to Johnny on his old portable Decca stereo where the turntable folded down and the speakers had lights that pulsed to the music. We were like 10 years old in 1972 when I first heard Johnny Winter from another classic album, Johnny Winter And…Live.  The album begins with the classic rock and roll onslaught, Good Morning Little School Girl, which pretty much sums up Johnny’s playing and singing style in one song. It also pretty much sums up why I play rock and roll guitar.

Johnny’s guitar and voice just cut right through you like a Texas chainsaw. His playing was like a tornado. So raw and furious, so rock and roll and so blues all at the same time you couldn’t help but play air guitar to his solos. And if you really listened to Johnny Winter then you had to love his signature ‘YEAH!!’ that he would belt out in the middle of a solo like a rock and roll battle cry.

It was as though Johnny Winter took his cue from Chuck Berry and strapped that music to a 100,000 GigaWatt transformer, creating his own unique brand of supercharged American rock and roll. Listen to Johnny’s version of Johnny B. Goode and you get the whole picture.

I wonder if this generation will ever get to appreciate the depth and breadth of Johnny Winter’s contribution to music in general and blues in particular. Maybe Jimi Hendrix took the Rock God award and rightly so. But even Jimi would tell you the picture could never be complete without Johnny Winter.

Every guitar player out there today who ever played the blues owes a major debt of gratitude to Johnny Winter for embodying the true meaning of the blues and the outlaw spirit of rock and roll.

I could go on but there will be enough tributes and discographies mentioned for the curious to follow.

I’m just happy to have grown up at a time when Johnny Winter ruled the roost. When everyone who was anyone in the blues and rock and roll mentioned his name as a major guitar tour de force. Every rock and roll note I play has a little bit of Johnny in it. So thank you from the depths of my rock and roll soul, Johnny.

We bow our heads today to a true guitar hero.

 

 

 

What’s the Opposite of ‘Same Shit Different Day?’

by 1 Comment

You’ve probably heard that phrase spoken somewhere in your life, no? Maybe you even heard it the other day from someone standing around the water cooler at work? Worse still, have you ever been that person who spoke those words?

What a drag to wake up and start your day thinking like that.

What if instead we thought…

Every day a new life. A new game.

And 10,000 ways to play!

a man standing by a lake and mountains at night

Pillars in the Sky (Photo by Paul Zizka)

How you see the world is what it becomes for you.

Your choice.

How To Sit, Do Absolutely Nothing and Connect with the Entire World

by Leave a Comment

I recently had a birthday. (GO FISH!!)a picture of buddhist monk sitting in meditation

This year my wife gave me just two things.

A book and a bowl. (I know, right?)

Doesn’t that just scream PARTY TIME!!! THIS guy is absolutely OUT OF CONTROL!!! Not exactly a cake filled with beautiful strippers armed with cans of Kool Whip and an open mind to your creative ideas about where to apply it and lick it off. Nonetheless, it was one of the best birthdays I’ve had in a long time.

Why?

Because there was a theme: Connection.

Connection to something far greater than ourselves.

These two very simple gifts (NO batteries, Apps or WiFi connection required!) turned out to be a couple of super secret awesome tools that can help you connect to the world in a way that has little or nothing to do with our current definition of that word, “connection”.

First the book. It was The Essential Rumi by Coleman Barks.

It’s a comprehensive collection of poems and verses by the ancient Sufi mystic, Jalaluddin Rumi, who wrote them more than eight centuries ago. No doubt you’ve seen his timeless words of inspiration quoted on countless Pinterest boards and scattered wide and far across the web.

We even included Rumi’s profound poetry in our wedding vows.

 The minute I heard my first love story

I started looking for you, not knowing

how blind that was.

Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere.

They’re in each other all along.

C’mon, if they made records back then, this dude would have been the original smash hit superstar 800 years before The Beatles were even born!

Rumi speaks of our inseparable connection to the creator of this thing we call life and the eternal continuum that has no boundary of time or space. Call it God, Source or whatever you choose that makes you comfortable. But somehow Rumi manages to put into words the inconceivable. The Oneness of all things that we humans have been trying to convince ourselves we are totally separate from since beginningless time.

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right doing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,

the world is too full to talk about.

Ideas, language, even the phrase each other doesn’t make any sense.

Rumi does with words what Jimi Hendrix did with a guitar.

You could sit with just one poem by Rumi and get lost in a world so profound and expansive, you might question the logic of ever coming back to that tiny little “reality” you call your life.

At times he speaks of wreckless abandon, untamed love, drunkenness, insanity and bewilderment at catching a mere glimpse of this connection to the eternal. How this spiritual connection is something closer to us than our own selves. Yet because we spend all our days drunk and blind in the tavern of life we can’t see what’s right in front of us.

Excerpt from “Who Says Words With My Mouth?”

Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?

I cannot stop asking.

If I could taste one sip of an answer,

I could break out of this prison for drunks.

I didn’t come here of my own accord, and I can’t leave that way.

Whoever brought me here will have to take me home…

Eventually, we wander out into the streets, stumbling around drunk and falling into gutters, pissing ourselves trying to find our way Home. (or maybe Tweeting nonsense all day about our self righteous opinions?)

From one point of view, we’re living in the time of true global connection. Where all of our thoughts and ideas can be traded and shared across the world in a split second, coalescing into a kind of collective consciousness. Or what famous futurist, Ray Kurzweil liked to refer to as The Singularity.

But what is it we’re actually sharing that’s going to change the world? Have we discovered the next Einstein? Or Dr.Seuss? Or Hemingway? With all this amazing technology at our disposal, can you really say in your heart of hearts that you’ve seen anything at all online today that your great, great, great, etc. grand kids will someday be talking about?

What’s the shelf life of your favorite Tweet? 30 seconds, if that?

Yet, Rumi’s words echo across the centuries in a way that lays to waste in one stanza the usual drivel we share each and every day that’s so “Hot” or “Trending” across the web when it’s really as disposable as that Kleenex you just blew your nose with. Read one or two of Rumi’s poems and spend a little time in contemplation and you’ll instantly understand what it means to get your mind blown.

From “Things Are Such”

Things are such, that someone lifting a cup, or watching the rain, petting a dog or singing, just singing-could be doing as much for this universe as anyone.

Tweet THAT!

Then there was my other gift, which may have been even cooler.

It was a Tibetan singing bowl, used often in Buddhist meditation and sound healing practices.

I’ve been meditating now for a few years. And there is no better way I can think of to hit the “reset” button on your mind than to sit in meditation each and every day, get very quiet and connect with that very place Rumi describes so eloquently in his poetry.

As a musician and producer, the idea of adding this deeply healing sonic component to my practice was really exciting, since I have always believed music has universal healing power.

You’ve probably heard one in your travels. This is the bowl you strike on the rim with a fabric covered wooden mallet to produce these extraordinarily rich and complex tones that “sing out” through space in ever expanding, forever sustaining waves, piercing right through your soul. The feeling they produce deep within is sublime.

I know, I know, words again that just don’t do justice to the incredible SOUND of this bowl. It’s like talking about the taste of wine. You have to HEAR it!

Still, sitting in silent meditation with this exquisite sound ringing out and enveloping your space just connects you to something primordial. Something so much deeper and greater than yourself. It’s not only music to your ears but salvation for your soul. And in this never ceasing echo chamber of digital noise we live in today, we desperately need a dose of salvation!

In the digital universe we’re forever tuned in and turned on but we can’t seem to ever drop out and simply be. 

To mention the thought of silencing or disconnecting from this ALWAYS ON world, even for a minute is to invoke panic attacks and the paralyzing fear that you’re missing out on something really important. Guess what? You’re not.

I live in New York. The place that invented ALWAYS ON.

And while it may be true that this is the city that never sleeps, a little known secret is that there’s this tiny window in those 24/7/365 hours of operation where when no one’s looking, New York yawns and takes a little cat nap. Where the city grows very still. It happens somewhere between 3AM and 5:30AM.

This is my meditation time. The time when I make real connection with the world. Before I’ve got to get the kids up for school, make the coffee…you know, time to make the donuts?

In meditation, the everyday world melts away as you still your mind from that mental tsunami of never ending thoughts and emotions until you finally reach that quiet place within. Where a more peaceful reality comes into focus and you connect to your heart. In that place you begin to tap into something far greater than yourself.

By the time I rise from meditation, I am more peaceful. I feel more connected to life and the whole world. The tsunami tamed, I walk outside and catch a glimpse of a pink sky that suggests how the day may unfold. New York is still silent.

My little Zuni crabapple tree outside in my breezeway is just coming back to life after a long cold winter. The buds are suddenly apparent for the first time. I smile at the stoic resilience of nature to endure what we see as harsh conditions as it prepares for its next task. The coming of Spring.

One could easily miss this beautiful moment if you weren’t paying attention. Like maybe if you were trying to get a head start on your day, checking your phone for email or a quick morning browse at those early Facebook status updates before everyone’s awake.

But the truth that, in that moment, if you were to choose to “connect” in the way most of us do these days, you would have missed out on a real opportunity to connect with the world. The real world. Where we get to delight in the small wonders. Like a beautiful sunrise or a tree about to remind you of the circle of life after a cold, desolate winter.

Tell me something. For all this “social” activity, do you really end up feeling more “connected” to people after spending an entire day on your computer?

Can you compare all those Tweets and Likes and +1s to say, slow dancing with someone you’re really turned on by? Can you smell the perfume she’s wearing from that comment on your blog post? Can you feel the warmth of her skin against yours in that newsletter you just opened in your Inbox?

Or is it more like one of those visits in prison where your lover is right there on the other side of the glass on the phone? So close but you can’t…well, you know.

I ride the subway most days.

It’s really kind of sad when you look around and see everyone buried in their phones. Buried in their “technology”. They’re looking everywhere else in the world except where life is actually happening, which Some are dosing off clutching them so tightly as though maybe, just maybe a really important text might come through that they just have to answer right away. Meanwhile, real life is going by all around them and nobody’s even paying attention.

I was sitting on the bus the other day, taking my kids to school. It was packed with the usual mix of commuters and parents doing the morning dance of getting the kids to school and getting on with their own day.

My little guy was sitting across from me. He’s almost five. I was looking around the bus, catching a glimpse out the window of the Harlem Meer pond in Central Park in the morning sun as we drove by down Fifth Avenue. When I looked back at my son, his arms were folded. I looked down and noticed my arms were folded too. So I unfolded them and put my hands in my lap. My son did the same thing.

When I gave him a look and called him on his game, he gave me the biggest smile and started laughing out loud (an actual LOL!). Most people didn’t even notice though. They were all buried in their phones reading important news, texting important texts and sending important emails, I’m sure.

It was such a priceless little slice of life. And it was gone in an instant. I guess in the end it was just meant for the two of us. Or maybe it was just for those people who chose to be alive in that moment.

You really want to know how to connect to the world? Learn how to disconnect and you will begin to tune in to a whole new conversation…with an Influencer you really do want to get to know. 

Seriously, try this.

Step 1. Turn off ALL technology

Step 2. Sit down

Step 3. Shut up

Step 4. Close or half close your eyes

Step 5. Listen to your breath.

(don’t TRY to breathe. Just breathe normally) Really pay attention to each cycle. From the start of your in breath to the end of the out breath. As the tsunami of distracting thoughts come into your mind (and they will) DON’T follow them. Simply let them drift away and bring your attention back to your breath. Do this for a few minutes until your mind becomes calm. Like a perfectly still lake. Once you arrive at this quiet place, hang out there for however long you can. It feels good, no?

Step 6. Open your eyes. Smile.

Do you feel more peaceful? Even just a little? Do you not feel just a little more connected to life? YOUR life? Your breath, this IS your life. It happens one breath at a time.

Imagine if you could put this kind of focus into everything you did?

How “connected” would you feel to life then? Try this simple exercise for a month. You don’t have to wear a robe or give flowers at the airport or bend your legs like a pretzel or chant “OM”. Just breathe.

You’ll be amazed how the world begins to change for you.

In the words of Pink Floyd:

“Breathe, breathe in the air. Don’t be afraid to care.”

In Memory of Harvey Luckman 1954-2014

by 5 Comments

Harvey Luckman

R.I.P. Harvey: A true rock and roll soul

I lost a good friend this weekend.

His name was Harvey Luckman. He passed away on Saturday, March 15th in his home in Riverdale, NY after a tough battle with cancer. He was 60 years young with a heart of gold and a rock and roll soul.

We met under less than auspicious terms, when my little Land Rover Freelander broke down and I needed a mechanic. My wife had been searching Manhattan dealers, notorious for their exorbitant rates for car repairs. She explained how she just had gotten off the phone with some guy named Harvey, who made her feel strangely comfortable, sounded like he knew what he was talking about and oddly didn’t sound like a crook.

Harvey knew cars. He had been dealing with them for over forty years and at one time had the exclusive Rolls Royce service repair shop for all of Manhattan back in the early Eighties.

The day I walked into Harvey’s crowded little service booth inside a garage filled with Land Rovers, Rolls Royces, Bentleys and other fine exotic cars, the first thing I noticed while waiting for him to get off the phone, was the screensaver on his computer of the Led Zeppelin reunion concert back in ’07, where they performed in honor of the late great founder of Atlantic Records, Ahmet Ertegun. The second thing I noticed was his disheveled Yankees hat, blue blazer and Marshall Amplifiers T-shirt, tucked inside it along with his salt and pepper stubble and glasses.

This was Harvey’s uniform. A fashion statement that walked the tightrope between having to deal with wealthy Upper East New Yorkers in need of repairs for their ultra luxury rides and a rock and roll spirit that he openly wore on his sleeve for all to see. He was a real character. A true New Yorker.

When he got off the phone, holding his head and complaining of a wicked hangover, I casually asked him if he had been to the reunion concert. Suddenly, he lit up and launched into an indepth story about how he had indeed flown overseas on a total whim to see the only reunion concert Zeppelin would ever play that yielded the recent DVD, Celebration Day. Harvey wondered how I knew so much about Led Zeppelin.

And so began our relationship built on cars and rock and roll. He would learn that I had toured with rock stars and was a music producer. I would learn that he was hungover from playing a late gig with his band, where he proceeded to get way too fucked up.

About a year and a half later, after getting to know Harvey for all the wrong reasons (my car was in for constant repairs) I would return to him in total despair after blowing my motor and having to hear him explain how it was a total loss and not worth the expense of trying to rebuild a new motor.

That also turned out to be the same day his music partner showed up at the shop to talk about an important meeting they had that evening, when they would choose a music producer to record their album of original music. The band was called Hoffman School. This was a lifelong dream for Harvey. Having a band of his own and an album he could be proud to play for people. He was really excited.

While trying to console me, the lightbulb suddenly went off and he remembered I was a music producer and did I want to check out the band? Long story short, I did and ended up getting the gig and eventually my car back too with a fresh new motor.

You could read the full story here. I had written a previous post on the bizarre circumstances that I would find my next album project as a result of that chance meeting.

Harvey was now paying me as a professional to do what I do, making records for bands. Yet, he would regularly stop everything and invite me out for an evening at B.B. King’s nightclub, where he held court regularly, whenever a great act was passing through. He would take care of everything and always wanted to make sure I got plenty to eat and drink. He was a true mench.

It’s hard to believe I had so much emotion at the service today for someone I only knew for a very brief period, maybe a couple few years at best. But with Harvey, you became family instantly when you got to know him. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. He called everyone brother, but rather than the throwback to the Sixties lingo that was just his vibe, Harvey really believed we were all connected brothers and sisters.

So here’s to you, Harvey. You awoke the child in me who was always a diehard rock and roll fan and reaffirmed my own belief that rock and roll will heal your soul.

I hope you’re up there on that big stage in heaven right now, jamming with Bonzo and Jimi and all the rest of ’em with that shit eating grin on your face.

Play on brother!

Love,

Mark

P.S. It was a frigid day in March as we all stood outside the funeral home, cursing the endless winter and  shaking our heads at how quickly fates can turn and lives can come to a sudden end. As I exchanged hugs and walked away, crossing the street on 76th & Amsterdam where just a block down the street The Allman Brothers were holding court for their annual string of March shows at the Beacon Theater, a young dude was approaching from the other direction. His coat was wide open, which seemed odd when everyone else was all bundled up trying to avoid the cutting wind. My eyes were immediately drawn to his black T-shirt. A vintage Led Zeppelin ’77 tour shirt with the winged man emblazoned across it, symbol of Zeppelin’s own Swan Song record label. I couldn’t help but smile, knowing Harvey must have thrown that one in there just to let me know he was smiling down from that big stage in the sky.

Why Most New Year’s Resolutions Suck and How You Can Change That

by 2 Comments

‘This time it’s going to be different, I swear it!’ 

Sound like anyone you know?

Sound like anyone you know?

THIS time, you’re going to keep your promise on that New Year’s resolution and finally make that BIG change you’ve been talking about forever.
THIS time, you’re going to follow through and take that first step toward living the dream.
THIS time, you won’t falter no matter what roadblocks may come up.
THIS time, you’re not stopping until you make it to that promised land where your dreams finally come true, damnit!

But give it a few weeks or a month (like right about now) and somehow those heartfelt resolutions always seem to run out of gas, don’t they? Until we finally just discard them when no one’s looking onto that old familiar scrap heap we’ve been piling up over the years. Our own private little junkyard of broken dreams.

Sound familiar?

Why do we set ourselves up for failure EVERY New Year’s? Then we proceed to fall face first into the same old trap and feel really bad about ourselves afterward.

It’s like Charlie Brown with Lucy holding the football. And we all know what happens next, right? Charlie Brown launches headlong into the dream of finally kicking that football and Lucy yanks it away from him at the last second as Chuck lands squarely on his ass. Why are we such gluttons for punishment?

Why We Suck So Bad at New Year’s Resolutions

Take a look back at the past year.

That’s 365 missed opportunities you could have made that same commitment to change your life…but you didn’t. Why?

Because you decided you needed permission from someone else to make that big change and evidently that only comes once a year when we all get together to celebrate and tell one another our big plans that are all set to begin…NEXT year.

But when exactly does NEXT year start?

Sure, one minute, it’s 11:59PM on December 31st and then the clock strikes midnight and suddenly it’s…Happy New Year!!! Everything is supposed to change now, right? But it’s really just a new day with a new number to remember when you write out the checks, isn’t it?

Want to know why we REALLY suck at New Year’s resolutions?

Because resolutions require you to change something about yourself. And the ugly truth is that change is really hard for most of us.

We’re creatures of habit. Mostly bad habits, I’m sorry to say, when it comes to change. And bad habits are hard to break. They crept in gradually over many years and coalesced into the person you are today. The one who has grown to accept things the way they are. That nice, safe, comfortable place where nothing much new happens.

Even if you’re in a situation that’s sucking the life energy right out of you, you’ll choose to stay stuck where you are, rather than go through the pains of making real change because it’s just…well, easier. And to help you stay firmly rooted in your particular status quo, secretly lodged deep inside your brain is a fierce defender of that comfort zone or what Seth Godin often refers to as your lizard brain.

Millions of years ago, the lizard brain served a valuable purpose. To scream at you from within to run like hell from fast approaching, ravenous dinosaurs or sabre tooth tigers, who might fancy you their next meal, so that you might live another day.

But as we evolved over the eons and most truly life threatening events have been eradicated for a fair portion of humanity, our lizard brain remained, though it never really evolved. So it only knows one trick. To scream at you when it smells the slightest whiff of danger, which in our present day amounts to the fear of change. And your lizard brain does NOT like change.

Hi, My Name is Mark and I’m a Dream-a-holic

Last year about this time, I made my New Year’s resolution and vowed that THIS was the year I too was finally going to make that big life change.

My big idea came to me one morning during meditation. I would evolve my passion for music, storytelling and meditation into a whole new blogging medium, combining writing, guitar playing, podcasting and video to spin inspirational stories about mindfulness and kicking ass in life. That’s where the name for my blog, Rock and Roll Zen, came from.

Everyone I told who knew me well said it was an awesome idea. They couldn’t wait to see it (or hear it or read it). I told them I just needed to get a few last tools together to get started. Some video editing software, a green screen and some studio lighting and I was on my way to blogging fame and fortune.

A Wise Man Delegates. A Fool Tries to Do It All Themselves

My big plan required several parts. Writing the post and composing an underscore that I would play live on guitar in the video, while at the same time recording the audio into my recording studio, overdubbing a voiceover, editing the audio and video together, adding graphics and finally uploading all media to their various social sharing destinations online to be found and consumed by the public.

Most of those parts were fairly easy for me to accomplish. The last one was not…the video part.

Hmmm, even after watching some YouTube videos on proper lighting technique, the lighting wasn’t quite right on my screen tests so I played with that for several more hours. Then I had to figure out how to transfer the videos from my iPhone into Final Cut. That was a time consuming learning curve. Then, utilizing the whole green screen filter thing wasn’t so quick or smooth as the guy on YouTube told me it would be. Then I had to figure out how to insert the graphics and how to animate them.

Next thing I knew, 5 hours had passed and it was getting really late. Time to call it a night. But hey, I was finally set up now and could start in the next day fresh and really get cracking. (at least it sounded good)

Daydreaming Is Easy, Making Your Dreams a Reality Is a Bitch!

The next night, I started in on my first official video.

Now that I was set up I did a bunch of takes with ease. Now we’re cooking! But again, I hit the wall. Transfering the takes, watching each one to choose the best one and then getting bogged down with all the video tech stuff again. Arrrghh!!! I looked up at the clock and again it was super late. I wasn’t any closer to finishing either. Hell, I hadn’t even gotten into the video editing yet. This video thing was a bitch. What the hell was I thinking?!

At the same time, I was also working on building up my blogging audience so I knew I had to set aside some writing time for my blog and putting together some guest post ideas to pitch to major bloggers. I thought, ‘I know, I’ll get back to this video stuff soon. Let me focus on building up my audience right now.’

As Long As You’re Moving Forward You’re Making Progress, Right?

While my big idea sat gestating on the back burner, I got busy working up pitches and landing guest post spots. I had written a bunch of posts focused around inspiring readers to dig down and unearth their inner awesomeness. The posts were well received. I got a bunch of new subscribers. I had decided this was my calling.

Those posts were mostly about how OTHER famous creators won their exalted place in history. How they did it by having the courage and conviction to put themselves and their crazy ideas out into the world so we could discover a new artform we didn’t know was missing until it showed up. How all of them faced massive rejection and were told their ideas would never fly.

Friends and followers were asking how my cool new blog concept was coming along. I kept telling them it was coming together nicely. I just needed to put together multiple videos before I unleashed them on the world so I could have a nice steady flow of content to feed them. It sounded believable. I would change the subject and ask about them. Meanwhile, the calendar days kept flying off the wall like in those old movies. I didn’t have the nerve to tell them I hadn’t finished the first video yet.

The Deadly Predator That Devours Your Dreams

My inner demons were wreaking havoc on my big idea. Self doubt had quietly whittled away at my confidence over many months to the point where I couldn’t even remember the initial spark that had given me hope that I had finally found a unique way to share my best self with the world. I was second guessing everything.

Was this even a good idea after all? Would anyone give a shit? I must be crazy for thinking I could start a whole new medium of storytelling? Every night, I would come down to the studio and walk past that green screen, the big green monster staring me down and silently laughing behind my back. My lizard brain quietly screamed at me to walk quickly past and get busy with something else.

And so, I’ve now passed the one year mark without one video done yet.

It’s really not too hard to figure out what’s stopped me cold in my tracks. That unruly beast that kills so many dreams and New Year’s resolutions alike…FEAR.

FEAR of the unknown
FEAR of failing
FEAR of being ignored
FEAR of embarrassment
FEAR of success (what if they do like the idea? How could I possibly sustain it? Oh no!)

It all boils down to one thing. FEAR of change.

The very same foe those OTHER famous creators I had written so much about had faced down and ultimately slayed to make their own creative dreams a reality. I often remind my readers that fear is the greatest obstacle in your way and that you must destroy it if you’re ever going to have a shot in hell at achieving your dreams.

Yet here I was frozen firmly in place by fear.

How could I, in good conscience as a writer, dish out such impassioned advice to my readers and then not live it by example in my own life? What could possibly be worse than being found out to be a hypocrite? OMG!! Dante placed hypocrites below murderers and rapists on the rings of his Inferno!

The story could easily end here as just another cautionary tale about letting your dreams fall by the wayside, were it not for one saving grace. There is one fear that maybe even trumps the biggest one for most of us mortals, which is our great fear of death. I’m talking about the fear of regret.

And sometimes, fear can be a great motivator.

On The Day You Die You’ll Have to Relive THIS Moment

Could there be a worse fate than being shown, at the moment of your death, how your life could have been, had you only possessed the courage to forge ahead into the unknown and pursue your dreams?
Knowing it all would have worked out fabulously, had you only learned to live with a little discomfort and uncertainty.

Failures and disappointments from dreams unrealized would be a far better fate to stomach if you knew in your heart that you gave it your best effort. For that you would be forgiven. But if you never try, it’s an ugly last breath, I shutter to think. These were the things that kept coming up for me this past New Year’s, as I quickly approach my 52nd birthday. So I’ve decided I’m not going out out that way.

Do The Thing That Scares The Shit Out Of You

Here’s my my New Year’s resolution for 2014:

I’m going to do everything that has scared the living shit out of me up until now…just not all at once. I’ll start with ONE thing.

For me, that means going back and dusting off all the notes I scripted for my grand new idea more than a year ago when it felt so right and got me excited again to be alive. Before the demons arrived.

That means finally believing my idea has a right to live. That means staring down that big bad green screen once and for all, sitting down with my guitar in front of that video camera and finally hitting the record button. Then busting through all those technical roadblocks, which are nothing more than excuses, finishing the video and hitting that Publish button.

Yes, that means facing down my deepest fears. Confronting that insideous lizard brain and kicking its ass once and for all.

So here is my promise to you. I, Mark Hermann, promise to deliver the first video of my aforementioned grand idea within one month of this posting.

I won’t promise you it will be perfect. I promise to launch. Then I’ll improve it. You can help too. Let me know what you loved or hated when I send you that invitation. Let me know how you would improve it.

If I don’t deliver, you have my full permission to publicly kick my ass and call me out on it. Go ahead, embarrass me. Even better if you have a massive following.

There, I said it.

Does it scare the hell out of me that I just hit Publish and made this statement public for all the world to see, after failing to make good on it for over a year? Hell, yes! Will it matter if I don’t make good on that promise again? No. Not to you anyway. You’re way too busy in your own life to be worrying about whether I’m going to conquer my fears or not.

And that’s exactly the point.

If you fail, who gives a shit? No one! Everybody fails. So what?

If you don’t allow failure as an option on the road to achieving your dreams then you miss the point of life. You try. If it fails you learn from it and apply that knowledge to your next effort. Now you’re one step closer to success.

Nobody cares! They never did.

Until you give them a reason to care, you’re strictly on the “Ignore” list. Enjoy the obscurity. Put out your work anyway. See how the world responds. No response? Keep adjusting and improving your work until they do.

So now what were you so afraid of again?

How to Make a Real Commitment and Clear Your Good Name

Wish you could have a second chance to show the world you’re not a bullshitter?

Try this.

Go out and buy a bottle of champagne today. Then, make a date with your lover, significant other or trusted friend. Tell them they’re invited to a party. If they can’t make it tonight, set a date within one week of reading this post to get together for a special celebration.*

*(This is important. Don’t overlook this part. There’s something deeply binding about making a commitment in front of others.  Like getting married, testifying under oath. You get the picture)

‘What are we celebrating?’ they might ask. ‘Why, New Year’s, of course!’ you answer.

Before the party, give yourself a little time alone.

Sit down with a piece of paper and restate in writing that old tarnished New Year’s resolution from last year or whenever it was you vowed to make that big life change but didn’t. Only write it now as though it’s a sparkling brand new and marvelous idea.

Then write down all your deepest fears about committing to making it a reality. Write down everything and anything that comes up. Don’t hold anything back. Get it all down on paper. Then seal it in an envelope and write “MY GREATEST FEARS” on the front.

Before your guest arrives, make sure you’ve set the tone. Recreate that New Year’s Eve party vibe. This is a celebration afterall!

When the vibe is right, tell them your grand idea in full detail. Maybe they’ve heard this before and are raising an eyebrow of doubt about now. Tell it now with a fire in your heart, as though they’re hearing it for the first time. Explain why this really matters to you and how you would feel to finally make it a reality.

Ask them to be your accountability partner. (they’ll say yes, trust me) Now pop that cork, pour the bubbly and raise your glass to make a toast. “To realizing our dreams!” Then drink the champagne.

Now hold up the envelope so they can clearly see what it says on the front. Close your eyes and remember all that you wrote in that letter. Take a moment to remember all the creative children you’ve killed in the past before they ever had a chance at life. Go ahead and mourn them for a brief moment but don’t beat yourself up over it. Tonight will be different.

Then take a deep breath and breathe all of your fears for this child out into the universe. All the way out until you have no more breath. Then take the envelope and burn it! (in a safe place, of course). Watch all your fears and worries disintegrate into thin air. Really allow yourself to feel free of those fears for the very first time. Savor this ritual. It works!

Celebrate your courage. Celebrate your commitment. Celebrate your life! All of it. The successes and failures alike. Your dreams do deserve a chance at life.

Tomorrow morning when you get up, DO THIS:

JUST START!

THEN CONTINUE THE NEXT DAY.

FIGHT BACK THE FEAR THAT WILL SURELY ARISE.

BREATHE!

CONTINUE THE NEXT DAY.

LISTEN TO THE FEEDBACK FROM THE WORLD.

ADJUST.

CONTINUE.

IMPROVE.

CONTINUE.

BELIEVE!

Happy New Year!

 

 

Missing Linc: An Open Letter to My Great Mentor

by Leave a Comment

“Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.” ~ Neale Donald Walsch

Linc Chamberland: My mentor

Linc Chamberland: My mentor

They say that in life many of the people you meet and the things you’ve seen and done will mostly be forgotten. And whatever remains with you is the stuff that mattered.

I once had a guitar teacher named Linc Chamberland, who lived in a remote corner of upstate Connecticut.

Linc Chamberland mattered.

When I was around 18 and starting to get a little bit good on the guitar, my peers all told me that if I was ever going to reach my potential I needed to study with Linc. Well, that just scared the shit out of me because Linc Chamberland was like a myth, a legend in those parts. People came from all over the country to study with him.

He was like the killer rabbit in Monty Python and the Holy Grail with teeth a mile wide. The horrible ogre from a Grimm’s fairy tale who ate mediocre guitar players for breakfast and spit out their bones. He had a balding head and a long beard. He was a formidable presence.

After months of being consumed by fear, I finally got the nerve to call him up, which turns out to have been one of the most important decisions I ever made in terms of personal growth, both musically and spiritually. Here’s why:

It was a lot like Tuesday’s with Morrie, only with guitars.

His lessons were built around jazz theory but they were really life lessons in disguise. He would play a really bad sounding chord and ask me, “Wrong chord, huh?” and I’d say, “Yeah, it sounds awful.” Then he would play it again as a chord that passed between two other chords and suddenly it sounded like beautiful music. Perspective.

So we would take a jazz standard like “Stella By Starlight” which is often played in the key of F major.

Linc would explain music theory stuff like modes and scales that you could play over the chord changes, which you learned by playing through the song with him during the lesson. Then he would give you exercises to practice for the next lesson, which we would always record on these things called cassette tapes (see Wiki for technologies of the last century). All pretty standard stuff, right?

Except that Linc Chamberland understood music like Carl Sagan understood the universe.

So I would go home and work my ass off so I could really impress him the following week. Upon my return, we’d get right into it.

“What do you want to play? Stella?” he would ask, knowing the answer. ”Yeah, sure,” I said, ready to tear it up.

“OK, Stella. And a one…two, a one, two, three…in the key of E flat”(DOH!!) (cue the musical brakes screeching to a halt)

“E flat???” I would cry, falling flat on my face and stopping. “I thought we were in F???”

“That was last week,” he said. “Do you know the song or are you just playing an arrangement you memorized? A monkey can do that. I want you to really hear the song, dig? Go home and practice it in all 12 keys and I’ll see you next week. Remember. Discipline, Motherfucker!” (where here the M-word is utilized as the highest compliment you could pay to another musician)

Linc used to say there were two kinds of players. Players and Motherfuckers. One had the chops to play the gig. The other could be a real force in music.

The nerve of this guy! I thought.

Pissed off and seething, I drove home with my musical tail between my legs. So I sat down and started shedding, only to figure out that he was right. I realized all the work I had been neglecting of really getting inside the music vs. playing something the same way every time from memory. Then I started to see that same set of limited rules in a lot of my life. Hmmm.

By the end of that week, I started to sound like I actually knew what I was doing. I was ready for prime time (or so I thought). So I headed back with a newfound confidence and walked in with an 18 year old’s shit-eating-grin that he was going to kick some serious jazz guitar ass today.

“OK, ‘Stella By Starlight’. Key of B flat?” he asked.

“B flat sounds great,” I smiled.

”OK. And a one…two…let’s do it in 5/4 time signature (a totally different rhythm to you non-musicians). And a one, two, three, four, five …” WHAT THE…? 5/4??? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO??? MOTHER F!@#ER!!! He did it again. Pulled the carpet right out from under my feet.

‘Grasshopper, when you can snatch the pebble from my hands…’

And that’s how Linc Chamberland could pull the very best out of you by pushing you out of your comfort zone; away from your self-imposed limitations and get you to dig deep down to a place within that you never knew existed; a place where great things happen, where the treasure is hidden. Where you get to give away your true gift, that is your own unique voice.

It’s the place where you kick back in your chair exhausted and smile, after that one line in the last verse of a song that’s been bothering you for weeks suddenly comes to you out of left field and the whole song comes together and you say, “Now that’s a song. Print it!”

Where the main character in your novel accidentally stumbles upon their true purpose, which is just as much a surprise to you, the author.

And in their (not your) moment of epiphany, you actually come to learn what your story was always about, which may be something very different than what you thought when you started out — but turns out to be so much better.

It’s a magical place, that place within. The place that lies just on the other side of that mountain at the far end of the valley. The one you were so sure you could never reach.

That’s what Linc Chamberland did for me. He pulled me along some days. Pushed me to the breaking point on others. He brought me to that mountain and showed me the awesome view you can only see when you push beyond your limits. I never realized just how far I had come, in music and in life, until many years later.

I’ve forgotten most of the theory after all these years. But not the music. Not the wisdom he passed on to me. At 51, both are still in me. I owe that to Linc Chamberland. He was my greatest mentor. His understanding of music as a metaphor for life has informed every creative endeavor I’ve ever been proud of and saved me when I doubted myself.

Don’t ever stop at good enough.

There’s just way too much good stuff out there to choose from already. But there’s always room for that unique gift that you have to give. For your very best work.

Everything you want in your life (which will come when you find that place within and share it with the world) lies just outside your comfort zone.

Go find a mentor who will push you out of yours and show you what you’re really capable of.

Then just go out there and play the music…

Imagine All The People Sharing All Your Work

by 13 Comments

Author’s note. I originally published this post on December 8th, 2012 in remembrance of

We salute you today, John. We will always remember.

We salute you today, John. We will always remember.

one of the most tragic losses in modern memory to the music world and humanity as a whole. The day we lost John Lennon.

I’ve decided to repost it every year, adding a new insight each time about the man who conjures a seemingly inexhaustable stream of inspiration and reflection from artists and every day people alike with every passing generation. I hope you’ll chime in with any new insights you care to share about John Lennon in the comments below.

December 7th, 2013: Two Days That Will Live in Infamy

I’m travelling downtown to New York’s Upper West side on a Saturday night. The same neighborhood as The Dakota where John and Yoko resided. I’m with my wife and two kids. I’d like to tell you we were out to revel in one of the world’s truly awesome spectacles: New York City at Christmas time. But unfortunately, we’re headed to City MD to take care of a mild emergency with my 4-year old:  a painful ear infection that just couldn’t wait for Monday to be looked at by his doctor. We pass a wonderful sampling of Christmas lights hung in apartment windows, storefronts and trees decorated along the center divider on Broadway. It is beautiful.

Now one of my huge New York pet peeves are those ridicuous TV monitors embedded in the back of NYC taxis (who’s brilliant idea was that??). They come on automatically and are getting harder and harder to turn off. If you’re a tourist and you’ve just arrived in the greatest city in the world, do you really need to be watching TV in the back of a cab??? New York freakin’ City is going on outside for God’s sake! Sorry, I digress.

So we’re driving along and all of the sudden, black and white scenes of Pearl Harbor are playing on the blasted TV monitor. My 9-year old daughter is asking me how many people died and why they keep showing these pictures from so long ago.

Meanwhile, as I’m trying to explain it all to her, I realize that Happy Xmas (War Is Over) is playing on the radio. The irony of this moment is so heavy on so many levels (at least to me) Here it is Christmas time in New York and this horrific scene of the most tragic day in American history (prior to 9/11)  is playing out on TV while one of the greatest Chistmas songs ever written is playing on the radio and the artist who wrote it would be senselessly murdered on the following day 33 years ago.

And it wasn’t even the original version! It was Sarah McLachlan’s rendition, which is basically the exact arrangement as the original. Hats off to Sarah for not trying to change something that basically can’t be improved upon. It was just one more reminder of the genius of John Lennon. Who else could write this amazing Christmas song and build into it an anti-war protest using a choir of children? Absolutely brilliant.

So Happy Xmas John and Yoko and Sean and Julian.

I still miss you every day, John.

(what follows is the original post)

December 8th, 1980

It was a day no one could ever have imagined.

I was in my first semester of college when the news of John Lennon’s death arrived on campus all those years ago. In that moment, everything just stopped. I never saw so many people crying for someone they had never met before.

The candlelight vigils began almost immediately all across campus. You couldn’t walk anywhere without hearing Imagine drifting out into the night air. We held one another, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

When we turned on the TV, we realized this same scene was playing out all over the world.

We were swept up in the gravity of the moment. We hadn’t just lost some big time celebrity. We had grown up with The Beatles. But we came of age with the music of John Lennon in the years that followed their break up. It felt like we had just lost the sky.

That’s how big John Lennon’s impact was.

And it harkens a question.

How does one’s work become so important that it spreads around the world and resonates across generations?

Dream Bigger Dreams

John Lennon was a dreamer.

Maybe you are too.

Maybe you dream about creating a platform large enough to spread your ideas across the world and put a dent in the universe. To create real impact.

Imagine founding the most famous band in the world with more #1 hits (20) than anyone else in history and selling more than…(wait for it) TWO BILLION records worldwide. BEFORE there was an Internet or YouTube.

Then imagine all that fame and fortune was just a stepping stone to finding your greater purpose in life.

John Lennon was just foolish enough to think he could change the world with his music.

And guess what? He did.

In a world built of brick and mortar.

Imagine No Connections

What if you woke up tomorrow morning and there was no Internet?

No computers. No email. No cell phones. No texts. No Tweets, no status updates, No birds to anger. No virtual farm animals to procure. Nothing to Google. Nowhere to shout Yahoo! Nothing that goes Bing.

In its place are but a few gigantic engines of mass communication, through which all content must pass and be filtered before it’s decided what will get consumed by the public. Only the gatekeepers of these channels will decide what shall pass.

Welcome to John Lennon’s world. The analog world.

Where messages spread the old fashioned way. You either got it word of mouth from a friend, saw it on TV, read about it in the newspaper or heard it on the radio.

So what did it take to get past those gatekeepers?

You Need A Unique Selling Proposition

They say necessity is the mother of invention.

(and hit songwriting too, sometimes)

Paul MacCartney was asked in an interview how The Beatles came up with all those incredibly infectious hit songs. He explained that when he and John first got together as teenagers, playing skiffle music as The Quarrymen, all the bands were essentially playing the same songs.

So it was really hard to differentiate one band from the next (think everyone has a blog today and it’s really hard to get anyone to pay attention to me).

To distinguish themselves from the competition and get gigs, they decided they needed to write their own original music (Aha! the unique selling proposition).

Back then there were no portable devices to take a memo or capture your ideas. So the only way The Beatles could play a whole live set of their original music was to write songs so simple and so memorable that they wouldn’t forget them on the bandstand.

Think Seth Godin and how he distills grandiose ideas down to a few sentences that hit you square between the eyes and make you say, Yes, exactly!

So now The Beatles had identified their unique platform. They had the raw materials. But they knew they still had to put in the time to polish their act if they were ever going to have a shot at the big time.

 10,000 Hours and A Lot Of Stimulants 

The Beatles in Hamburg. The Real Hard Day’s Night

How did John Lennon become so remarkable? He worked his ass off! Night after hard day’s night!

Early in their career, while still teenagers The Beatles scored a gig playing in Hamburg, Germany. Over a three year period they played multiple sets of music seven nights a week in various clubs. The most famous venue being The Cavern club.

It was the graduate school of hard knocks. Playing in front of the toughest crowds you could find in the middle of Hamburg’s notorious Red Light District.

Talk about trial by fire!

Now imagine yourself a hungry young writer just looking to break into the business. You would take anything just to prove yourself.

So you score a gig where you have to craft 20 original blog posts a day, seven days a week for several major porn sites. And you only get paid if people click through your copy and subscribe.

Think you’d learn very quickly how to become an incredibly pursuasive copywriter with that kind of practice and incentive so you could move on to something better?

This is how The Beatles learned to win over a crowd.

Another little known fact. The Beatles threw out some 200 songs before the world ever heard their first hit single, Love Me Do.

So before we ever heard a recorded note from them, The Beatles were already seasoned pros.

By the time they had their day in the sun and became an “overnight sensation” on The Ed Sullivan Show, The Beatles had already put in their 10,000 hours. They had honed their craft to mastery.

How about you? How far do you go in your creative process before you hit that Publish button? Is it far enough? Are you that committed that you wouldn’t ship until it was undeniable?

You Write Well But Are You Saying Anything Meaningful?

Maybe you’re a really smart content creator. You stay up on trending topics so your work always gets noticed and your work is consistently excellent. You’re in demand (for now).

But does your work have any depth? Is it the ‘Oh My God I’ve got to share this with my friends!’ life changing kind of stuff? Or will you be passed over for the next smart content creator who jumps on tomorrow’s new trend?

John Lennon had to reckon with this.

The Beatles quickly dominated the pop charts with a long string of sugar sweet hits. Beatlemania was in full swing and they were dealing with the chaos of pop superstardom.

But the question was were they anything more than just a passing fad? For John Lennon, his day of reckoning came when he met his own American Idol.

So Bob Dylan arrives in London to play what would become a legendary concert for him in 1965. Well, pop stars can have heros too and John Lennon was a huge Dylan fan.

At one point, they rode in a limo together around London and John asked Dylan what he thought of The Beatles. Dylan told him he liked their music but they weren’t really saying anything very meaningful.

This totally floored Lennon.

But it was also an epiphany.

The Beatles followed up soon after with the Rubber Soul and Revolver albums, which contained some of Lennon’s more in depth songs to date like In My Life and Tomorrow Never Knows.

There’s No Such Thing As Bad Publicity (well, almost never)

You have to take a stand with your work if you want to be respected. Even if some or many don’t agree with your position. If you’re not pissing someone off with your work than you’re probably not going far enough with it.

John Lennon may have minced plenty of words in his songs. But in person he was never shy about shooting straight from the hip and telling it like it is. Regardless of who he was speaking to.

On one such occasion, he made a statement that created one of the most celebrated shit storms in show business history. And he pissed more than a few people off.

That was the famous line where he told the British press The Beatles were more popular than Jesus Christ, which led to everything from radio station bans on Beatles music to record burning rallies and even KKK marches.

This drew worldwide attention.

Some say the media pressure got so intense that The Beatles quit touring because of that incident. But that turned out not to be such a bad thing.

They would change popular music forever in the creative period that followed with the release of Sgt. Peppers. And then they would cement their place in pop music history when they followed up with Abbey Road.

So now you’ve reached the pinnacle of your career.

You have a worldwide audience, money and fame. Once you’ve changed popular music forever where else could you go from there but out?

Find Your Greater Purpose

The world was in a state of upheaval by the time The Beatles were breaking up at the end of the Sixties.

Vietnam, civil rights, the race to the moon, the cold war, flower power. These were uncertain times.

John Lennon became a staunch advocate for world peace. He wanted to end the Vietnam War and all fighting in the world. He wanted to end world hunger. He wanted to expose the unfair treatment of women around the world.

So he wrote songs like Power To The People, Give Peace A Chance and Woman Is The Nigger Of The World to make his point.

It wasn’t about pop stardom anymore. These weren’t obvious hit singles. They were big ideas wrapped in simple but powerful songs penned by a master.

But he had the media channels wrapped around his finger so he could get his message to the masses. But it’s the way he used media that made people sit up and take notice.

Using Conventional Media in a Totally Unconventional Way 

Bed In For Peace

Most people would consider a marriage to be a sacred and private affair to be shared only with their closest family and friends.

But not John & Yoko.

Knowing their marriage in 1969 would be a highly publicized media event, they invited the press to hang out with them on their honeymoon to protest the war in Vietnam and promote world peace.

They called it the Bed In For Peace. It was all filmed and eventually turned into a doumentary.

Then they went a step further that Christmas and took out advertisements on billboards in eleven major cities. Not to promote a new album or some big concert event.

There was no product to sell.

The billboards simply read, WAR IS OVER If You Want It. Happy Christmas, From John & Yoko.

I don’t know if this is quite as blasphemous as Lennon’s Jesus statement. But I would venture to say that Seth Godin is more important in the digital era than The Beatles (there I said it…checking for hate mail now).

Now imagine today if Seth Godin set his sights on the Occupy Wall Street movement.

How might he use conventional media today in an unconventional way to get his point across?

How might you?

Are You Unforgettable?

It’s one of the most recognizable songs in the history of popular music. Known in every corner of the world.

Imagine.

Rolling Stone put it at #3 on their Top 500 Songs Of All Time.

Some critics said the song was a bit utopian. That lyrics like “Imagine no possessions” were a bit of a contradiction, coming from a pop star who had amassed a small fortune and lived like royalty.

But then what do critics know?

Imagine is one of those songs that defies any meaningful written description. Like all messages that speak universal truth, the music transcends words.

It was the message behind the words that ultimately touched people’s hearts. And the message spread around the world.

We will always remember John Lennon for this inforgettable song.

Be Totally Authentic

Record mogul, Clive Davis, once asked Lennon what music he was listening to and was stunned by his response,

“Nothing,” Lennon replied.

“Don’t you want to know what’s being played?” Davis responded.

“Absolutely not! Did Picasso go to the galleries to see what was being painted?”

John Lennon was a total original. Authentic in his art. And authentic with his cause of creating world peace.

In a documentary film about Imagine there’s a chilling scene where we see John and Yoko returning from vacation to their home in England.

As they reach the front door, a homeless man jumps from the hedges and approaches them quickly. He’s dirty and has been sleeping there overnight. You can feel the tension of the moment in the footage as we don’t know what this guy is going to do next.

The man starts rattling on to John asking about the divine message behind his songs. Lennon tries to assure him that he’s just man who writes songs. And if his words have meaning for this man than great but they’re just songs.

Eventually, John asks if the man is hungry and invites him into his home for a sandwich.

Could you be that authentic in your work? That honest with your desire to help others?

The Real Secret To Why Messages Spread

These are the things that resonate beyond fame, beyond wealth or public image. These are the things that define who you are and what you stand for.

When you can truly see the world through the eyes and hearts of your followers then you have empathy with them.

When they can pictures themselves as the focus of your message and it eases their suffering or creates a solution to a problem or points a way forward for them, then your message spreads.

John Lennon was a creative genius.

But he never took himself so seriously. He could be funny. He had a razor sharp wit. At times he could be scathing in his commentary.

But John Lennon’s secret weapon was that he cared.

He cared about people. He knew that the secret to life was love. That’s all we are. That’s all we need. He cared about helping us to see that.

This is why he could imagine the world as he did in the song. This is why he asked if you could too.

This is why his message spread throughout the world.

This is why we remember John Lennon on this day.

What will you imagine today?

Back to you.

What does John Lennon mean to you?

 

I Entered the Copyblogger Essay Contest. Why Haven’t You?

by Leave a Comment

Copyblogger Essay Contest Participant You call yourself a writer and you haven’t entered this essay contest yet? You should be ashamed. C’mon, where’s your sense of adventure? Of friendly spirited competition?

Next Spring you could be on your way to the Authority Intensive in Denver for FREE! You could be hanging with Seth Godin, Brian Clark and Sonia Simone. You could be someone, knowhatI’msayin’? Fuhgettaboutit!

All you need are 250 words of killer duck’s ass tight copy that answers better than anyone else the all important question, Why is it essential to be an online authority?

So what are YOU waiting for? You’ve only got until December 4th. Crank it out already. You’re not scared are you? I didn’t think so.

See you in Denver!

 

Enter the contest or get more content marketing tips from Copyblogger.

Happy Birthday Jimi Hendrix!

by Leave a Comment

Happy 71st Birthday_JimiJimi Hendrix would have been 71 today.

Yet his music is as fresh today as was when he first emerged on the scene back in the Sixties before he went on to change music forever.

What hasn’t been said already about the man Rolling Stone called The Greatest Guitarist of All Time?

Legend. Immortal. God. Freak. They all apply. Yet like all phenomena that transcend our limited understanding of what is humanly possible, Jimi Hendrix defied description. Words can never fully capture something so profound as music that speaks directly to the soul.

Jimi’s influence on my life and my own music is huge. His groove, his power and his spirit of total freedom and artistic exploration inform every piece of art I’ve ever put out into the world.

Once upon a time about a year ago I did try to put into words, in the spirit of Jimi Hendrix, what I believed were the secrets to his legend and how other creators might learn from Jimi’s example how to find their own personal legend. It became a post on Copyblogger, which got voted to their Best of 2012 list. I was honored. But then Jimi really did all the talking.

I’ve received so much positive feedback since that piece ran that I finally decided to turn it into an eBook and offer it to you for FREE here today as my gift of inspiration in celebration of Jimi’s birthday.

Click here to get your FREE copy.

Happy Birthday, Jimi!

 

 

Tell Me Your Story Like Robert Johnson Sings the Blues

by 1 Comment

Image of Robert Johnson

Every day I get the blues (and you should too to tell a better story)

Real life ain’t so pretty is it?

That’s why God created the blues.

Songs that tell stories about real life. The hard times, the broken dreams and the wrong turns. Ain’t no sugarcoating going on when the blues is talking.

Now if you’re in the business of persuading people to listen to what you have to say and want to be perceived as “that dude or chick who really knows their shit” then you need to learn how to tell a better story. That’s where the blues come in.

And if there’s one thing I’ve learned as a white boy living in Harlem: Keep it real.

If I can’t see the rough edges in your story, the pain of many failures along your life’s journey, the endless trials and the obstacles that caused you to stumble along the way. If I can’t feel the tension of your struggle to keep on keeping on when everything seemed hopeless, then I’m pretty damn sure you’re trying to bullshit me.

And I don’t trust you. (neither will your audience)

The Hairy Beast That Stole Your Innocence

Like the wild beast in those dark fairy tail woods who steals the golden ball from the child and beckons them to take it back from him. The blues have got some unruly, gnarled edges. If you get too close, the blues might steal your soul.

It’s a siren song that beckons you down the dark alleyways of the soul. Asking questions that can lead you to dangerous places within.

But then like that wild beast, the blues hold something sacred in their canon that your perfectly gift wrapped box of chocolates with its tasty piece of advice inside can never offer us.

The blues speak the truth.

They are a confession of sins, a prayer for salvation and a revelation about the lessons learned all wrapped up in a two and half minute song.

Now if you didn’t just crawl out from under a rock, somewhere along the way you’ve probably heard the name, Robert Johnson.

Maybe you equate that name with some old crusty bluesman from a long ago bygone era. And you’d be partially right. He was actually a young man when he died in 1938 at the ripe old age of 27. (That same mysterious age when Jimi Hendrix, Janice Joplin and Jim Morrison all met their untimely demise)

But you probably never bothered to investigate what all the fuss was about this man now did you?

Well then pull up a stool. It’s time you got yourself some schooling in the blues.

The School of Hard Living

Chapter One: Somewhere in rural Mississippi, circa 1936.

Now you could listen to pretty much any of Robert Johnson’s recordings if you wanted to get a feel for his music and, for that matter, authentic Delta blues. There are so many gems to choose from.

Crossroads Blues. That’s the place where legend has it Johnson sold his soul to the Devil in exchange for his guitar prowess and his success. It’s also the song that Cream made famous some thirty years later in the Sixties. Or listen to Me And The Devil Blues. Or Kind Hearted Woman. Or Dust My Broom. They’re all classics.

But since we’re talking about storytelling here check out Love In Vain. Another Johnson classic that The Rolling Stones would eventually make famous on their Let It Bleed album.

Now are you just nodding your head to be cool or have you ever actually heard Robert Johnson’s music? No?

Well then stop reading now, click play on the video below and fucking listen! I don’t need you to Tweet this. I want you to learn something today about how to tell a better story. (Go ahead. I’ll wait.)

Love In Vain

“And I followed her to the station, with her suitcase in my hand,

And I followed her to the station, with her suitcase in my hand.

Well, it’s hard to tell, it’s hard to tell, when all your love’s in vain,

All my love’s in vain.

When the train rolled up to the station, I looked her in the eye,

When the train rolled up to the station, and I looked her in the eye.

Well, I was lonesome, I felt so lonesome, and I could not help but cry.

All my love’s in vain.

When the train, it left the station, there was two lights on behind,

When the train, it left the station, there was two lights on behind,

Well, the blue light was my baby, and the red light was my mind.

All my love’s in vain.

Uumh, Willie Mae, Uumh, Willie Mae, Uumh uumh,

All my love’s in vain.”

Now you know this man was speaking the truth.

(In fact they found Willie Mae Powell many years later and interviewed her for a documentary, The Search For Robert Johnson, where they played her this song for the very first time. You can see by her reaction that this was an ode to a very real lover who Johnson sadly had to let go)

You Can’t Give Your Sweet Woman (or your audience) Everything She Wants At One Time

Robert Johnson met a lot of women in his travels. When it was time to move on he’d have to leave them behind. Or he would send them back home. He lived every word he sang. In this song he’s painting us a portrait from his life. You feel his pain. And you can imagine those women wishing they could have him back.

That’s the life of a bluesman.

(That’s how you want your audience to feel every time they finish your latest work. Who was that masked man?)

Johnson hoboed on trains and jumped off in dusty railroad towns all along the Mississippi Delta. He’d set up camp and play there for a while. For his meals and his booze sometimes.

Sometimes he would target a woman in the audience and sing directly to her, regardless of who she was with. Sometimes he’d get chased out of town by her man. Some say that’s how Robert Johnson died. Poisoned by a man whose wife he had been flirting with.

The life of an itinerant blues musician was a hard one.

But it was also a movie without even trying to be. The journey. The pangs of loneliness. The longing for a better life. The nuggets of wisdom learned along the way. The search for redemption that often led instead down a path of despair and self destruction. All of these experiences bled into the music. They’re also the building blocks for a great story.

A Bluesman First and Foremost (and your primary role) Is a Storyteller

The songs told tales of personal troubles, toils and struggles. Loves lost or love stolen or love unrequitted. Women left behind. Dangerous men. Stories of devils and tramps, sinners and salvation, big legged women, boozers and vagabonds.

These weren’t some shiny, cellophane thin hit songs conjured up by slick record producers to make a lot of money. There was no money back then. These were called race records. Devil’s music.

Blues was the poetry of strife.

Now let’s talk about that blog post you want me to read or that song you so desperately want me to listen to. It’s probably something you spent a lot of time polishing, right?

Maybe you’ve done your diligence and found out that many people really do want to read about Papuan cannibal folk songs. It might even deliver traffic to your virtual doorstep in that particular niche. Maybe some business too if you offer niche focused eco-tours there. Or maybe you found out that people respond more to love songs in the key C.

Well done on your research.

Legend or Leper: How Does Your Audience See You?

But the real question here is can you convert the curious into passionate believers? Does your story speak to my soul? Will I follow you to the ends of the earth to get another taste from the fountain of truth?

Because if your story isn’t bleeding onto the page or your broken heart doesn’t come pouring out from my speakers then I don’t believe you. I don’t feel like you’ve really been there. And neither will your audience.

Cause when you do speak the truth they’ll scream to high heaven, “Thank fucking God! Someone out there is finally bearing her soul for all to see! Hallelujah! Let us bathe in her misery and be awakened by the truth!”

But that doesn’t happen very often these days, does it?

Seriously, how many blog posts can you say you absolutely had to go back and read again? Ever? Or a song from recent memory?

The last time that happened for me, a well known music blogger, Bob Lefsetz wrote a piece about Adele’s “21” album. This was a good year before it ever broke into the bigtime. Said it was an honest record. The kind you could put on from start to finish.

How she wore her heart on her sleeve for all the world to see. All the nasty, thorny details of love gone bad. Crushing loneliness. Broken hearts. Jealousy. Self loathing.

I had always believed in Lefsetz’ writing (because he also speaks truth) so I took him on his word and bought the record. Well, I’ll be damned if he wasn’t spot on. I was totally blown away. And I did need to hear it again. And again. And a couple years later she had sold some 25 million records.

That’s truth working its magic. That’s blues.

Jimi Hendrix once said, “Music is either true or false.”

You don’t have to think about it when you hear or see or read the truth. It speaks directly to your soul. No translation or How To manual required.

So back to Mr. Johnson and the blues.

Why You Gotta Get Some Blues in Your Soul 

I remember hearing all these Led Zeppelin, Cream and Rolling Stones songs back in the day and reading how these Brits had dug up this goldmine in America’s backyard. The blues. The ship that launched the British Invasion.

Their music had all these heavy riffs that they always mentioned were “inspired” (translation: often ripped off verbatim without giving credit) by these old blues artists.

As a young guitar player, I wanted to go back to the source and hear it for myself straight from the horse’s mouth.

It was a little hard to take at first I have to admit, after hearing all those polished British bands. Robert Johnson didn’t sound all correct like Eric Clapton, or Jimmy Page or Jeff Beck, who all sited him as a major influence.

His music was all rough sounding and the notes weren’t all perfectly executed or even in tune. He had this shrill kind of high pitched voice. The guitar was all thin and scratchy.

But when you hear the source it’s like sitting in front of the Buddha himself and hearing him speak, rather than reading his words from a book. Direct infusion.

So next time you want to go and tell me your story don’t sugercoat it. Let it bleed. Make me feel your pain. Your joy. Your sex. Don’t hold anything back. Tell me the whole truth. Don’t round off the edges and polish it for some global audience.

I like it rough, dig? (so will your audience)

OK so the stage is set. You’ve got a captive audience sitting there waiting to be converted by the legend themselves…that means YOU!

Now get up on that stage and play us some blues.

Sing your heart out.

And turn it up!