Monday, March 2, 2015

"I heard the news today, oh boy..."

As some of you may be aware, I am a part time bartender at a busy bar in Manhattan. Of course I am a musician first, but the frosty truth is that fireball and Bud light pay my bills and help to fund the career I am building. (Also, its fun as hell).

That said, I spend a great deal of time listening to what is categorized as "pop" music, aka top forty stuff. And yes, I know every word of every Nicki Minaj song, and no, I'm not proud of that.

Which is why I started exclusively listening to talk radio in my car. My favorite station is WNYC, a member station of NPR. Some of my favorite moments of late have been listening to the most random possible broadcasts as I drive home along the FDR, the sunrise making the East River sparkle as the 8 million people around me cling to their final hours of sleep. These precious moments teach me a ton about things going on in the world that I might never otherwise think about, and I cherish the opportunity to broaden my perspective and learn something new.

But recently, one of these listening sessions really shook me up. I was listening to an international news report that focused on places in the world where a person can be imprisoned or even killed for speaking their mind. Of which there are a lot. More than I knew, actually.

And that's when I started to contemplate the very small bubble I am fortunate enough to live in. And then my thoughts drifted to way back when...

I remembered when, in 6th grade, I first learned about the Vietnam War and the (many) social movements of the 60's and 70's. Directly after class, I sat in a circle with my friends in the cafeteria and we all whined about how we were born in the wrong generation, and that our parents had it so much better than we did. We complained that they had a chance to be part of a movement, and about how much we wished we could be alive then, making music, and a difference.

I remembered listening to Bob Dylan and the Beatles,  and thinking that I could learn more from their songs than I could in a textbook. There was a sensory element to that music that made me empathize with the social dynamic of the time. When I listened to their words, and heard the strain in their voices, I felt like I knew what they were going through. I felt like I was beside them.

I remembered watching Forrest Gump, and thinking (besides HOLY SHIT THIS IS THE GREATEST MOVIE OF ALL TIME) that it was the music that made the journey so special. It was the music that served as an impetus to the story.

It was the music that made it not just excellent, but iconic.

And then I was home, in my driveway in Queens, overcome with a sudden sense of purpose and responsibility. I make music, or more specifically- I write music- all the time. Everyday, actually. And in every moment I am doing it, somebody somewhere not that far away is being punished for having an opinion.

I would love to say that I am going to shift careers and spend my days trying to right these wrongs, but that wouldn't be true. Its not who I am. There a bunch of people in the world who are MUCH cooler than I am who are doing exactly that, and I am wildly inspired by them. I hope someday to find myself in a position where I can use my talents and passions to make a difference in this world. But for now? I think at the very least, I can make a commitment to stop taking my freedom of speech for granted. As musicians, we may not be saving the world, but we at least have the opportunity to record it. We have the chance (and the obligation) to be the keepers of history. And that is so incredibly special. I have always felt very blessed to write music, but with this new perspective it has a whole new weight.

Our generation didn't "miss out" on the cool times of social change. We just spend so much time complaining that we sometimes don't notice we are in one. And I know so many great musicians making music. I know so many painters creating work that might never make it out of their loft in Greenpoint. I know SO. MANY. ARTISTS. And so to them, I guess all I can say is keep creating. There is no revelation in this post- no big conclusion or announcement. But just keep creating. Everyone, please keep creating and pushing your creative boundaries in every kind of work you do.

Because you never know. In 30 years, you may be somebody's Beatles, or Dylan.

You might be your grandkid's Forrest Gump. Teaching them in a way no one else can how things were for you.

For all of us.

xo
KT



Wednesday, January 28, 2015

I held up my end of the deal...

I mean, shit. I guess I kind of didn't. I started this blog with all kinds of pomp and circumstance, claiming that I would have all sorts of NEW material for you and I would stay active on here and yada yada yada. And in some ways, I did. I put out an album. I made some music videos. I did a bunch of shows. I started getting some press. I even have an instagram now! But then I got distracted with the ten billion other ways in which I am expected to spill my soul out for fans, friends and family alike. Oh and also keep a job and feed myself and try to get hotter with age.

These are the perfectly reasonable sentiments of the greater purchasing-community of the pop world. At least that's what it feels like to me. So I made a decision: Leave.

Before you go tweeting that KT quit music and gave up on her dreams... let me explain myself. I'm not leaving music. I will never leave music. I honestly don't think I could if I tried. I'm just leaving the place in music where I judge myself endlessly based on what other people think of me and what I am doing. The place where I think Miley Cyrus is my legitimate "competition..." and in fact the place where I consider ANY other musician competition. This is not a contest, this is art. And we are not against each other, we are family. Or at least we should be.

Recently, I entered a music "contest" hosted by NPR Tiny Desk Concerts. Which is actually pretty damn cool... each band that entered was asked to record a video of themselves performing an original tune at a desk- any desk- the way they would if they were given the chance to perform at the prestigious NPR Tiny Desk. Thousands of unknown artists came out of the woodwork with incredible songs that so deserve to be heard. Seriously- just go on YouTube and look up "NPR Tiny Desk Contest." Your socks? They will be knocked off.

My musical soul mate (and band mate) Donny was the one who first pointed out to me the magic of what NPR had actually done. First of all, they treated the artists with respect. No one was asked to tweet their entry, or make their friend's vote for them every day or make a fool of themselves in any other way that might help this already successful company spread some hashtag that will only matter for a week or two in the world's several-billion year memory. None of that. Second, they inspired a LOT of artists to pull their shit together and create a video. Even if it is not selected, these videos are fantastic content for any artist, and I think we can all admit it is sometimes hard to find the inspiration to create something like that. Third, they posted a bunch of them on their Tumblr, offering free advertising and an NPR stamp of approval.

But most importantly? They just connected an entire generation of serious, driven indie musicians into an easily accessible network, country wide. So now, if I want to play a show in say, Seattle... I can go look on YouTube for Seattle bands that contributed. When I find one I like, I can reach out to them via their social media and links online. Then I can email them and see if they want to maybe trade shows, knowing that we are in a similar place in our careers. THAT IS FUCKING GENIUS, NPR. Already I have begun a list of people I would absolutely love to play with, or even open for. And when I am ready to book my tour, I am most certainly NOT going to do it based on the venues, or the paychecks, or a manager, or any of that other crap that takes me away from creating art. I am going to do it based on the artists. Because they are the reason those venues and paychecks and other bullshit exist. They are the reason there is a "music scene" anywhere. They ARE the music scene. And I am so looking forward to visiting all of these magical scenes.

Well done, NPR. Well done. And kudos to my "competitors." You are all mind-blowingly talented and inspiring.

Until next time and with love,

xo KT



Thursday, December 5, 2013

NEW NEW NEW NEW NEW NEW NEW

Guys! Its Kt, coming to you from the deepest dungeons of web design. I know I've been a real queen of cliff-hanging lately, dropping coy lines like "wait til you hear the new music..." and "I'm so excited about our new website..." and you're probably pretty bored with all that.

Unless you're new to me... in which case, WELCOME. And thanks for cheering on my team.

I'll keep this first blog short and sweet, but consider it my formal announcement that I really do have a NEW blog, a NEW look, and a killer new project I am itching to share with you. This does, unfortunately, mean that I have to say goodbye to my old blog, as it is apparently not suitable for the teeny tiny keebler-like elves I assume run around inside all computers, turning things on and off and auto-adjusting my screen brightness. But please know that this is just the first of many public showings of all of the new material we have been working on for the past few months. Its real. I swear it.

Thank you, as always, for your continued support and love! <3