We Must Be Like Water

It feels like my life has never been without music. Of course, music has existed long before any of us, but what I mean is that I grew up, I went to school, I chose to go in the Army, and music was always there. I was a medic, planning on staying in the medical field, and somehow that didn’t happen.

So more than twenty-five years later, here I am, unemployed, going to school, and organizing and hosting multi-artist events. How did we even get here and what is this blog about?

It started back in the kitchen of the apartment I grew up in. It was 1983 and I was singing and whistling. I can tell you the song, what clothes I was wearing, and even what we had for dinner that night. I was always consumed with music and that night my sister said, “You don’t ever stop. You are going to work in music someday.” She wasn’t saying I was going to be famous or a rock star. Somehow at the age of eight I knew that, even if she didn’t. That moment resonated in my soul like a crack of thunder that shakes your foundation and never leaves.

In 1997, I went to my first open mic as a spectator and again my soul was shaken. I just kept going back. I started hanging out with musicians and dabbling in management as I hated my existence working in shipping and inventory. I taught myself guitar to scratch the itch, began performing, started hosting open mics, and now have more than twenty-five years of experience in this grind. Along the way I have noticed little shifts that were not a thing before.

That brings us to this blog. A common conversation I have almost every gig is with someone who tells me they are drinking a non-alcoholic beer and are just trying it out. Not so much the beer, but the sobriety. This is new. I drank a lot, and I drank for a long time. Dry January was not a thing. Actual good non-alcoholic beers did not exist, and there were not nearly as many options. People did not “just try” being sober. This is a shift in society that I keep an eye on. Partly because it fascinates me, but mainly because it will affect us. Maybe we have not felt it yet, but as more people drink less it will inevitably affect venues and then trickle down to us.

So, what do we do? Be like water, my friends. Look at what is causing it, adapt, and create new spaces. Be better at performing, promoting, and creating excitement that draws people in. Some of the factors behind this shift are the cost of drinking, the overall cost of living, health consciousness, cannabis alternatives, stricter penalties for drinking and driving, and a younger generation that drinks less than those before.

I believe we will continue to perform in breweries, restaurants, and family-friendly venues, but eventually fewer bars and fraternal organizations. I expect to see more collaboration with the cannabis industry as laws evolve, and more opportunities with food trucks, municipalities, art studios, backyard parties, and barbecues. Media content, podcasts, and all the peripheral responsibilities that now come with being an artist will keep growing. We may have to travel farther for venues that support us, but there will always be spaces to play.

The future of live music is shifting. It is moving into community spaces where music is part of everyday life. As drinking declines, music will align with other experiences, from wellness and creativity to evolving cannabis culture. The venues may change, but the heartbeat will not. Our job is to be like water, flexible and flowing into new spaces, creating excitement wherever people gather. This blog is about exploring those shifts and shaping what comes next together. If we stay creative, we will not just adapt, we will thrive.

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