BEING REAL, BEING SELFLESS, AND WHAT I WANT TO DO

First off I love creativity. I love art. I love entertainment. I don’t feel like art and entertainment need to be thought of as separate things. The entertainment I love; specifically music, film and literature, I see as art. The music of Jimi Hendrix is art. I really think that. Mozart and Hendrix, neither one is inherently more artistic or beautiful then the other. Both are different ways of expressing oneself through music. It comes down to the individual preferences of the listener. What is and what isn’t art is not important. Well that’s not entirely true. It’s just not what I want to write about right now. What I want to write about now is how I want to be a part of that world, the creative artistic world. I can’t and don’t have the patience to play music. I can’t sing, I can’t paint, I can’t act and I’m pretty sure I couldn’t direct a film. I do, however think I can write.
This, though, is where I start to realize what I don’t like about myself and my writing. I feel as if I have the constant need to seek approval or be praised by my peers. This need to be perceived as smart, witty and insightful leaks into my writing. Of course if I want to be a writer, or in other words contribute to that world of art and thought, I should write in a way that engages people; the problem is that a lot of times I feel like I’m just trying to show off. I’m writing for the praise and not for the art. This motive for praise and self aggrandizement seems impossible to escape completely. George Orwell said as much in his essay “Why I Write.” In it he lists four main reasons why someone chooses to write, the first of which he says is “sheer egotism,” which he describes as, a “desire to seem clever, to be talked about, to be remembered after death…” He goes on to say, “it is humbug (bullshit in modern terms) to pretend this is not a motive, and a strong one” (312). While much of the essay also focuses on Orwell’s more idealistic reasons for writing; the “desire to push the world in a certain direction, to alter peoples’ ideas of the kind of society they should strive after” (312 – 313); he is careful to bring it back to what he ultimately believes to be one of the more powerful motives to write. “All writers are vain, selfish and lazy” (316). This quote sounds like a terrible characterization, but it brings a knowing little smirk to my face because there is truth in it. First of all, it does seem lazy to want to be an artist or writer. I don’t want to do manual labor and it’s not because I think I’m above it. I just hate it and I suck at it. In saying this I am not discounting what I believe to be the importance of art and writing. Art is another way to express what we believe to be a truth. It can sometimes communicate to us in a way that other things do not. Sometimes a love song or a sonnet speaks to us because it explains a feeling that we have in our own heart. It’s unfair for me to classify all artists as lazy. There are many artists who are industrious and multi talented, I just don’t count myself among them. This particular writer is lazy.
Again, I am getting off track here. The part of Orwell’s quote that I think really sums up how I feel about my own attempts to be a writer are the parts about selfishness and vanity. I’m both of these because I want to write my thoughts and I want to be praised for verbalizing them, but as I said earlier I’m afraid that I’m not always being true to my voice because I want to be admired as an insightful person who sheds light on the mysteries of the human condition. See, even that last sentence makes me sound like a show off and a pretentious fuck. Writing “fuck,” I guess is supposed to make me seem grounded and edgy. I’m no word snob and I have no moral objection to swearing. Ass, bitch, cunt, cock, mother fucker, shit. It’s just that I don’t want to swear just to swear or show off. I want to be insightful, edgy and funny; but I don’t want to pretend to be insightful, edgy and funny. I want my writing to come from a real place inside of me and not from what I perceive to be what people think of as great writing; otherwise my writing will be hollow or as Kurt Vonnegut would call it, “cheap, silly, false” (12).
Recently I reread The Catcher In the Rye, and out of all of Holden Caulfield’s rants there was one in particular that stood out and I think it relates to the anxiety I’m speaking of, about wanting to be a successful writer but also making sure that I’m doing it from a pure and authentic place. In the passage I’m thinking of, Holden is asked by his little sister, Phoebe, what he wants to do with his life. He has a hard time answering the question and at one point begins talking about lawyers.

“Lawyers are alright, I guess – but it doesn’t appeal to me… I mean they’re alright if they go around saving innocent guys’ lives all the time, and like that, but you don’t do that kind of stuff if you’re a lawyer. All you do is make a lot of dough and play golf and play bridge and buy cars and drink Martinis and look like a hot-shot. And besides, even if you did go around saving guys’ lives and all, how would you know if you did it because you really wanted to save guys’ lives, or because you did it because what you really wanted to do was be a terrific lawyer, with everybody slapping you on the back and congratulating you in court when the goddam trial was over, the reporters and everybody, the way it is in the dirty movies? How would you know you weren’t being a phony? The trouble is you wouldn’t” (Salinger 172).

How do you and I know we aren’t being phonies? How do we know we are being authentic and acting completely selflessly without any thought of compensation, whether that compensation be in the form of financial gain or in words of praise? Is it even possible to be completely selfless? Is a perceived noble act any less noble because we find out the actor is a self involved status seeking prick? It certainly feels wrong to praise someone who seemingly does something good for selfish reasons, but again; is it possible to be completely selfless when doing something righteous? Personally, I don’t think it is. Even if we serve out of a desire to serve, we are still fulfilling a personal desire. We are seeking to fulfill something in our self which is in a way selfish.
Holden is critical of people he perceives as phony throughout the novel. He sees, most especially in the world of grown – ups, a lack of authenticity. The question I have is similar to the question I had about selflessness. Is it possible to be completely authentic and true to one’s self in every word and in every action? For someone like me or Holden who seem to idealize authenticity, the answer is a hopeful yes. The fact that I say “a hopeful yes,” however implies that I am skeptical of my own reply. In reality I think the best we can do is try. Complete authenticity requires complete knowledge of one’s self; but this a life long journey. The self is not some permanent stagnate thing. It is and should be something that is constantly changing and evolving through life experience. In our quest to be authentic all we can do is be true to where we are in the moment we act but with the knowledge that we are always changing.
With Holden and with myself there is a fear of failure, the ultimate failure is possibly being exposed as that thing we hate the most, a phony. Part of this seems to stem from having an overly idealized and impossibly high standard of selflessness and authenticity. In Holden’s case and in my own this fear has paralyzed us from accomplishing much with our lives. As you read the “Catcher in the Rye,” once you get past his obvious pettiness and immaturity, you also realize that Holden can be insightful and intelligent. He speaks of his talent in writing and he is clearly capable of more than flunking out of the schools he has attended. I relate to this flaw in Holden Caulfield. I hesitate to write and I have nearly flunked out of school twice. I’m enrolled to go back this year, but under continued academic probation, just as at the end of the novel Holden is scheduled to go back to another school. He is hesitant however to commit that he is going to do better, which again seems to stem from the same fear of being exposed as a phony.

“A lot of people, especially this one psychoanalyst guy they have here, keeps asking me if I’m going to apply myself when I go back to school next September. It’s such a stupid question, in my opinion. I mean how do you know what you’re going to do till you do it? The answer is you don’t. I think I am, but how do I know? I swear it’s a stupid question” (Salinger 213).

If Holden answers yes and he fails then he thinks he will be seen as a phony. It is a difficult question to answer, especially when you’re history suggests that you will fail, not because you want to but because we humans are creatures of habit. We have noble hopes to change our behaviors but until we actually change our behaviors we repeat our mistakes. As with selflessness and authenticity the best I can answer about my own future success in both school and in attempting to be a successful and authentic writer is that I will try. Whenever someone says I will try, we automatically think of it as a weak and uncommitted response. Many of us of a certain age hear Yoda saying, “do or do not, there is no try.” Damn it, I don’t care what Yoda says. We do by trying to do. I am going to try but this time I’m not going to let my fear of being seen as selfish or phony stop me from doing what it is I want to do. I will strive to do things as selflessly and as authentically as is possible for me to do. In the end I believe it’s better to act with imperfect motives then to not act all. At least by acting we can change our motives over time; they can come from a more selfless and authentic place just by acting and striving to have them come from those places.
So here I am, attempting to enter the world of writers and thinkers hoping that what I am writing is something worthwhile and helpful to those who struggle and are apprehensive about their futures. I can say that in at least this, I have spoken from the heart.

By the way, if you are interested in reading George Orwell's vastly superior, short and entertaining essay, "Why I Write," here is the link: http://orwell.ru/library/essays/wiw/english/e_wiw

Bibliography

Orwell, George. A Collection of Essays. Orlando: Harcourt, 1981.
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Vonnegut, Kurt. Welcome to the Monkey House. New York: Dial Press, 2006.
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Salinger, J.D. The Catcher in the Rye. New York: Little Brown and Co., 1991
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Wait... So now Dan Auerbach likes guitar solos?

Ok, before I talk about the new album from the Black Keys I need to express some irritation I have with these guys. First off, I'm a fan. I got hooked after hearing the guitar riff for "Your Touch," off their 2006 album "Magic Potion," an album which I happen to enjoy but is regularly dissed by the band themselves. Upon exploring their back catalog I was impressed by their raw guitar and drums sound, not unlike the White Stripes; a fact Jack White loves to point out. Tunes like "I'll Be Your Man," and albums like "The Rubber Factory" and "Thickfreakness" became part of my constant listening rotation. This was a band that seemed unashamed to play bluesy riff-driven rock 'n' roll in an era of overly produced pop and sensitive overly precious indie "rock." With 2008's "Attack and Release" the Keys hooked up with the hip retro producer Danger Mouse and began distancing themselves from the sound that up to that point had made them a mildly popular underground garage act. I have no problem with bands evolving and changing their sound. I'm one of the few Metallica fans who still really likes the much fan - maligned "Load" and "Reload" albums. I didn't and still don't love "Attack and Release," but I loved the Keys two follow up records, 2010's slightly bloated hazy soul album "Brothers" and 2011's wonderfully trashy glam album "El Camino."

So I love most of the band's music, what have I got to be irritated about? I have no beef with the music. Sure it's a little derivative of rock n roll history, but it gets the job done. I have a problem with Dan Auerbach's and Patrick Carney's obsessive need to appear cool. There are plenty examples of Patrick Carney shooting his mouth about other bands but those have been extensively covered. I want to focus my attention on Dan Auerbach. Listen to fuzz riff of 2006's "Just A Little Heat." ">

Now check out how "Little Black Submarines" from "El Camino" begins as a slow acoustic tune before erupting into an electric hell storm of guitar distortion and Carney's caveman skin pounding. ">

These two songs are awesome examples of the Black Keys rock 'n' roll credentials. Now, I ask you, if you had to name what classic rock band comes to mind when you hear these tunes? Okay, maybe the Rolling Stones or Jimi Hendrix, but if you're like me I bet a lot of you said, Led Zeppelin. When being compared to a classic rock act you could do much worse. What does "cooler then thou," Auerbach think of the Zepp comparisons? Read for yourself: "Man, you know what? I never listen to Led Zeppelin. But, I mean, I don’t think Robert Plant or Jimmy Page listen to Led Zeppelin, either. We all prob­ably obsessed over the same old blues records growing up." (Read the entire interview here: http://www.maxim.com/music/interview-with-dan-auerbach-of-the-black-keys

Okay fine, you're not a Zeppelin fan. What bugs me isn't the fact that he doesn't dig the mighty Zeppelin, its the way he just dismisses them. Its a hard sale to deny any influence of Jimmy Page when your music is so obviously indebted to the sound he popularized. I'm probably being nit picky here but I wouldn't bring it up if it was the first time I'd been annoyed with Auerbach's comments. My current irritation is his contradictory attitude toward guitar and in particular guitar solos. I am an unapologetic fan boy of a good long guitar solo. I'm the obnoxious guy who cranks the stereo up at the moment when a guitar player rips into his strings and shreds your face off with a blade of awesomeness. (Quick aside; Top 5 guitar solos: "Machine Gun" - Jimi Hendrix. This one sounds like a war. "You Really Got Me" - The Kinks. Dave Davies sounds like he's having a seizure while playing this brief explosion. "Comfortably Numb" - Pink Floyd. The studio version is great but you gotta watch the Pulse DVD to see and hear David Gilmour extend this solo into the stratosphere. Very epic. "Crossroads" - Cream. With all the easy listening adult contemporary crap that Eric Clapton has made its hard to remember that he once kicked ass on guitar, okay he still does, but he really let it rip in the old days. "Stairway to Heaven" - Led Zeppelin. Go ahead and call me cliche, but seriously this solo made me a classic rock fan. My whole taste in music shifted when I heard this song at a home coming dance as a high school sophomore living in Iowa back in the fall of 1995.)

Anyway back to Auerbach. Back in 2011, Auerbach made a list for Rolling Stone of bad ass guitars. Nothing wrong with that, except for some reason he had to preface his list by saying, "Guitar bores the shit out of me 99 per cent of the time." (http://www.rollingstoneme.com/music/the-black-keys-badass-guitars-and-killer-grooves) Oooh, how hip and ironic of you Dan. You are a guitar player making a list of your favorite bad ass guitar sounds, yet you are bored by guitar 99 per cent of the time. Bullshit.

Most recently I'm annoyed with this statement from a recent interview with NPR where Auerbach talks about his guitar solos on the new album, "Turn Blue." "...I grew up listening to Derek & the Dominos and The Allman Brothers and stuff like that. I listen to the Grateful Dead a lot... I grew up listening to that kind of music, and I love long guitar solos and spacey jams." (http://www.npr.org/blogs/allsongs/2014/05/07/309346263/the-black-keys-turn-blue-the-all-songs-interview)Awesome. You love long guitar solos and spacey jams. Me too, except I'm not sure what to make of this comment to Spin magazine in 2011: ""I've never been into guitar solos. I really like when every instrument in the band is a rhythm instrument." (http://www.spin.com/articles/studio-black-keys/)Dan, which is it? You don't need to pander and flip flop. You are a great guitar player and I love your music.

Okay, now that is all off of my chest, what do I think of the new Keys record? I dig it. I think its the first great record of 2014, sorry Beck fans. Things start off in outer space with the nearly seven minute "Weight of Love." This is definitely the longest tune I'm aware of on a Black Keys album. The song has been drawing a lot of comparisons to the opening track "Breathe" from Pink Floyd's classic "Dark Side of the Moon." It's a fair comparison as both tunes have a lot of space as they float into your consciousness. Dan's guitar solo on this one sears out of the song's otherwise psychedelic fog. ">

"Fever" was the album's first single about a month ago and when I first heard it I wasn't sure if I dug it or not. I've since found myself loving its relentless groove. Side two's "Its Up to You Now," features a pounding and driving beat from Patrick Carney that sounds like a mash up of the Bo Diddley beat and Zepp's "Immigrant Song."

As surprising as "Weight of Love" is the biggest surprise for me comes in the album's closing track "Gotta Get Away." This tune emerges from the smoky atmosphere of the rest of the record with what is one of the catchiest songs the Keys have ever recorded. "Gotta Get Away," is pure summertime and bbqs classic rock. This tune is destined to become ubiquitous in car and beer commercials and a staple on future classic rock radio playlists. It is seriously just so damn good. Hear for yourself and try to not dance around and sing along with the chorus by the end of it. ">

Like last year's Arctic Monkey's "AM" album, this a rock album that you can dance too. While it's not quite as good as that album, "Turn Blue," is another great album from a great modern rock 'n' roll band. This albums gets 4 burning coals.