Feb 26, 2025–Recently a gaggle of musicians were sharing road stories, talking about the highs and lows of making “a living” traveling across the country, picking in dives and bars, sleeping in cars, eating through the Dairy Queen menu, drinking too much, and exercising too little, when a bored listener asked the obvious question: Why did you decide to become a musician in the first place?
That stumped us. So we came up with The Four Stages of Being a Musician:
Stage 1) To get on stage
The politically incorrect version of this is “to meet chicks,” which I think is OK to say again, at least it was when we were teenage boys trying to master the F chord on a hand-me-down out-of-tune acoustic guitar our uncle bought but gave up playing after three weeks of lessons from a guy he met in a bar. Whatever version of person you were attracted to at that time, you harbored the thought that they would be impressed that you could play the intro to Stairway To Heaven. It worked surprisingly often. I know at least two couples who ended up married based on that first date where the wooer played a passionate facsimile of I Gave My Love a Cherry. The marriage collapsed when the spouse figured out that was the only song they knew and grew to loathe it.
The point still stands: Playing music in public was a shortcut to being popular for introspective teens that had acne, curly hair, and black-rimmed glasses.
Stage 2) To get famous
Hahahahahahahaha. We all reached a point when we thought we were pretty darn good. I remember telling seasoned pros how I wanted to be a studio drummer, just waiting for the call from Hank or George or Chet asking if I were free for a session in Nashville. If not that, then the next best step would be that my garage band cut a 45, had a hit on the local AM station, or opened for The King Sisters at the state fair. Never happened.
Stage 3) To get money
As we passed through our 20s, the next stage was stark: we needed groceries.
During those early years, while chasing fame, most of us had neglected to follow a viable career plan. Cashing in our lost decades, we went back to college or trade school, relying on weekend gigs at clubs, weddings, and local implement dealer openings to supplement our income with unreported cash. While I was finishing up my interrupted degree, every weekend I crammed in three gigs at local taverns, ending up on Sunday night with a stop at the gas station grocery section to stock up on store brand bologna, canned cheese, and a loaf of white bread to last until the next Friday night.
Stage 4) To play music
As hollow and meaningless as I’ve made Stages 1-3 sound, they were all necessary for every true musician to reach the pinnacle of performance: playing for yourself.
No matter where or when you picked through the years, it was always evident that non-musicians respected and admired your ability to wrench a tune out of a hollow log. Often, they appreciated it even more than you did yourself. But when you are on the other side of ambition and unrealistic expectations, you realized that, yes, you could play a musical instrument, and all things considered, play it pretty well.
You reached the point where playing music for its own sake was ample reward. It didn’t matter if that attractive person at the bar was not impressed with your six sharps, that you didn’t have a record to pitch to an AM radio DeeJay, or if the only thing in your tip jar was a half-used gift card from Applebee’s. All that mattered is that you were in a nice place, playing music with bandmates who had made the same journey as you.
You were no longer just playing an instrument; you were making music.
XXX
Phil Houseal gave up music and is now a writer and owner of Full House PR. www.FullHousePR.com.