And we're back with a tidbit about demonic doings in popular music.
There are several sections about this subject in the "extended play" version of Mythic Rhythmns, but that stuff's getting saved for another book. Still, it's essential that I broach the subject of infernal influence on popular music, if only to address the fact that it's such a prominant element in folklore. This section was originally written as part of the Living the Life section, but I've moved it to the magic chapter... at least for now. The final shapes of both chapters will determine where this part eventually goes in. As of now, it's simply suspended between both chapters - as is dramatically appropriate.
Once again, I've featured some links to enhance your enjoyment and understanding of the subject. they will not, of course, be part of the final text.
Enjoy... and don't let the Devil get your soul!
In League With Satan
According to evangelical lore, popular music in general and heavy metal in particular overflows with Satanic activity. Artists like KISS (Knights In Satan’s Service, according to popular misconception), Iron Maiden (home to several Christians), Black Sabbath (likewise) and even Madonna supposedly stage live sacrifices and unholy rituals during and after their concerts. Such soul-selling rumors aren’t new… and they’re not even always inaccurate. Though there’s probably nothing more demonic than kinky sex involved, bands like Cradle of Filth, Marilyn Mason and the Electric Hellfire Club actively embrace a Luciferian mystique.
For the most part, that lore is nonsense. Pink Floyd does not promote Black Masses. The Van Halen logo is not based on an inverted pyramid. Twisted Sister did not release an album whose cover featured a severed goat’s head on a naked girl’s body. This is crap. As a fan of metal, Gothic, industrial and hardcore punk rock, I’ve been to hundreds of concerts and own thousands of albums, and yet have never witnessed live sacrifice, attended a Black Mass, or torn bleeding dogs apart with my bare hands. I’ve even played in a few metal bands (one of them called Dark Cross), and yet have never made a soul-pact or whispered prayers to the Evil One. It’s all just theatrics – occasionally morbid but all in good fun.
As overstated as the hysteria has been, however, there are undeniably non-Satanic artists who have flirted with infernal themes. The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin and David Bowie don’t sacrifice virgins or sling devil-horn salutes, but all three artists (among others) dabbled with dark rituals before opting for respectability. AC-DC, Mötley Crüe, Alice Cooper and KISS probably aren’t devil-worshippers, but their choice of demonic imagery is pretty obvious. Although truly Satanic artists usually remain under the radar (occasionally, as unabashed Satanists Coven did in 1971, emerging with surprise hits like “One Tin Soldier”), it’s not paranoid to imagine that certain rockers tinker with the occult – it’s literally a matter of record.
Musical deviltry isn’t always so obvious. According to an old Carpe Noctem interview with Ronnie James Dio, the guitarist for the whitebread rock band Kansas was secretly Satanic – “the blackest of the black.” Was Dio pulling our chain? Probably… but ya never know. Beach Boy Brian Wilson was a friend of Charles Manson, and “Candy Man” Rat Packer Sammy Davis Jr. briefly belonged to Anton LaVay’s Church of Satan. Might there be demons signing up talentless youngsters for shots at mainstream stardom? If so, that would certainly explain volumes about the career of Britney Spears...
By the reckoning of certain folks, all popular music is infernal by default. Preachers and esotericists alike complain that “the jungle beat” (as musicologist Dave Tame calls it in his book The Secret Power of Music) is inherently dissonant and perverse. Blues, jazz, rock, techno, soul, hip-hop, reggae, country, avant-garde and even certain strains of Classical music all have long associations with demonic influence – bartered souls, devilish trills, corrosive beats, Satanic masses, Pagan revels, nihilistic philosophies, carnal orgies and brutal murder are all established parts of such musical traditions. And so, some people argue, those types of music are not just corrupt but corrupting. Simply by listening to them, much less playing them, you open yourself to damnation.
Is that true? That depends both on your personal beliefs and on your desires for the saga. It is true, though, that real or fictional devils are often associated with music. The majority of bands that wave around inverted pentacles and devil horns, however, are simply using shock tactics and horror-movie props, not actual black magic. Quite a few of the so-called “satanic” bands, like Rush, use mystical but not infernal imagery… and most of the reputed “signs of Satanic allegiance” have nothing whatsoever to do with Satanism, the occult, or mysticism in general. Many declared Satanists claim to actually be atheists, employing Satan as an archetype, not an entity. Even so, many religious people – not all of whom are Christians – assert that rock-n-roll is inherently infernal regardless of an artist’s beliefs or practices. If you, the Storyguide, want to make that contention true, then it will be true… which could make for a great plot element in your Powerchords saga.
And as for real life, who knows? As the Scandinavian black metal church burnings and murder-suicides of the 1990s proved, you don’t need to have a devil on your back to do atrocious things in Satan’s name… but if there is one there, would you recognize him in time, much less want to drive him away?
And we're back with a tidbit about demonic doings in popular music.
Welcome back, my friends, to the book that never ends!
I was hanging out yesterday with profesional band manager K Kevin Wiley and professional techie/ roadie Inky Grrl, and we were talking about the musical life and vocation. In honor of them both, this week's POWERCHORDS update comes from the Living the Life section about choosing and working with a road crew - yet another subject that could easily have its own chapter if not its own book.
(As a continuity note, this section follows a much longer section about managers, agents and so forth, hence the "Beyond the suits" remark.)
You’ve Got a Friend in Me
Beyond the suits… hell, usually before the suits… there’s your crew: a pack of loyalists who help you set up, tear down, post fliers, post blogs, hump your gear, pimp your merch, watch your back, and generally provide whatever support you need at the time. In the beginning, these folks help you out because they love you, they like your music, they wanna be part of the action, or some combination of such motives; later on, if and when you get big, they usually do it for a paycheck plus maybe a few of the other reasons too.
Crew members are your strong right and left arms, your voice in the world, your backbone when things get tough and your salvation when stuff goes wrong… and yeah, it inevitably goes wrong somewhere. According to Duff McKagan, Guns N’ Roses’ first Seattle gig involved broken-down cars, hitched rides, living-room crashspace, and a dick promoter who stiffed the band but couldn’t keep them from gaining a foothold in the Seattle area. Without helpers, however, they could never even have left L.A. Long before there were record contracts and MTV videos, G N’ R relied upon friends and kind strangers. Even at the indie-core level, an artist who thinks he can do everything alone is mistaken.
If and when an artist gets famous, his crew grows exponentially. There are trucks to be loaded, stages to be set up and dismantled, fan clubs to be maintained, orders to be fulfilled, bookings to be organized, and buses and jets to be driven wherever he needs to be. At a certain level, professionals must be employed in order to satisfy union requirements and maintain a high level of expertise. Don’t get me wrong – professional roadies, teamsters and agents can be a pretty scruffy lot. Despite all the pranks, drugs and bullshit, though, these folks either know their jobs or lose their jobs. As revealed in the documentary Anvil: The Story of Anvil, a pro crew, or the lack of one, can make the difference between success and disaster on the road.
The transition from a crew of friends to a crew of pros usually gets awkward, and explains a lot about the size of celebrity entourages. To soothe hurt feelings, rising stars often try to keep their friends close by, if not employed; soon, the star’s surrounded by old friends, new buddies, professional handlers and just plain parasites. And in many cases, those circles nurture the star’s needs, desires, addictions, and possibly energetic hungers. This, in turn, fuels the disconnection with “normal” life that stars experience, especially while on tour or in the studio… a disconnection that can leave both the artist and his old friends wondering what the hell happened to the people they used to be. (See the Legacies: Charisma Bomb, Entourage and Fame; the Wyrds: Addiction, Bad Rep, Beast, Lifethief and Party God; and the Agent, Band Buddy, Dr. Feelgood, Groupie, Handler, Manager, Roadie, Security and Techie motifs for in-game reflections of this phenomenon.)
In Powerchords, a crew might be driven by more sinister motivations, too. They could be ghouls feeding on your blood, demonic imps compelled to serve you, parasitic spirits drawn to the passions you stir up, zombies forced or created to be your slaves, bewitched fans, faerie servitors, bound elementals, devoted cultists or other similar entities. (They may also be fellow player-characters: one or two folks play musicians, while the others play roadies, managers and so forth.) Supernatural crew members are often less loyal than true friends might be; then again, they’re often more powerful than normal human beings. A flesh-crafted golem or undead servant can probably heft a Marshall stack easily, and pity the dick promoter who tries to stiff you for the gig when a pack of hellhounds shows up to back your claim!
Whatever their nature, your crew wants something in return – maybe just a smile or a hug, but probably more. The artist who forgets this fact soon finds himself stranded in Bumfuck Nowhere with no ride, no gear and a host of new enemies tearing him up behind his back. Famous or powerful artists can get away with a lot crap more than beginners can… but as the saying goes, what goes around comes around, especially in the age of the internet! Old-school stars used to treat their crews like shit and get away with it; these days, though, backstage revelations are just one disgruntled follower with a cell phone or an internet connection away.
Small indie artists and local heroes can manage with small crews – maybe as few as two or three people juggling a host of chores. Label-signed artists used to have pro crews supplied by the label – in exchange, of course, for massive deductions from that artist’s royalties! These days, though, a band may find itself hiring its own crew even after it’s been signed by the label… and in many ways, that’s a good thing. For while musicians rarely have the tens of thousands, perhaps even millions, of dollars on hand to hire and maintain a crew unless said musicians are already wealthy, a band-contract crew is under that band’s control. The band knows where its money is going, and the crew members know enough not to piss off the people who sign their checks. A major-label band, of course, needs dozens of people on its payroll: handlers, gofers, roadies, managers, legal reps, a doctor or two (and usually a drug dealer), instrument techs, lighting techs, FX specialists, riggers, security, crew bosses, publicists, personal assistants, make-up and wardrobe artists, union reps… the bigger the show, the more people it takes to manage it. Sure, a big-name “indie-cred” band can get along with a dozen people or so; Pearl Jam used to tour with a skeleton crew and as little gear as possible, and probably still does. Artists who want to bring a spectacle, however, need a crew big and trained enough to manage it – and that kind of crew takes very deep pockets to maintain!
When picking managers and crew members, it’s a good time to think about just what kind of artist you (and perhaps your bandmates) want to be: A local hero with minimal fuss and prospects? A rugged individual carving out a living town-by-town? A hardcore indie band living a DIY lifestyle? A gritty newcomer with your eyes on the prize? A budding superstar? A global superstar? A legend-in-training… perhaps even a megastar when the game begins? Your ambitions and status will drive the other considerations. The brighter your star, the more people it’ll take to hang it in place...
Just got back from the FaerieWorlds festival, where Sandi got some AMAZING shots that will probably (assuming approval from the bands) find their way into POWERCHORDS. This year's music lineup was the best yet, with Niyaz, Soriah and Delhi 2 Dublin providing some of the most memorable shows I've attended in roughly 35 years of concert-going. (The photo below is one of my own, taken during the Delhi 2 Dublin set and not yet cleaned up with Photoshop.)
For folks not yet familiar with FaerieWorlds, it's an alternative culture festival dedicated to fae and magickal culture. Originally centered on the band Woodland and the artist Brian Froud, FaerieWorlds now spans several festivals and features dozens of musical artists. I met SJ Tucker there eight years ago, and she introduced me to Sandi Buskirk five years back. If you haven't yet had the pleasure - or even if you HAVE - I highly recommend this festival.
Today's excerpt comes again from the Living the Life chapter, which I've been working on today after our return from FW. It features quotes from An Artist Who Prefers to Remain Anonymous - the catch-all name for people I have interviewed for the book under the promise of anonymity. This update also features links to the artists mentioned - a feature that, as I've mentioned earlier, I wish I could include in the book itself.
Take on the World
When you hit the road, especially in the beginning, that magic erupts between long stretches of tedium, sore butts, and endless hours in vehicles that may or may not be deathtraps. Unless you have deep pockets or generous sponsors, you’ll probably find yourself in a muffler-lacking rattletrap with broken heat and no AC, roaring through the night toward the next kindly stranger’s floor. Small bands usually cram themselves, their crew and their gear into a single van; really stark conditions, like those endured by Black Flag and the Minutemen on a shared tour, can find several bands, their crew and their gear shoehorned into that van. In either case, that close proximity can forge tight bonds and incite raging hatreds… often at the same time!
The closeness doesn’t end when you leave the van. This author found himself trying to sleep in a bathtub one night to escape a snoring bandmate (it didn’t work). Ace Frehley describes sharing hotel rooms with Gene Simmons in the early days of KISS, where his fire-breathing bandmate spit endless ropes of pryrotechnic phlegm all over the carpeting. That same account reveals how the band shared a single suitcase for its smelly stage garb; each time a bandmate picked up a case of groupie crabs, everyone got the lice. Inevitably, bandmates wind up sharing beds, floors, food, drinks, clothes, drugs, cigarettes, needles, groupies, air, arguments, and wayyyyyy too much time together on the road. The absurd battles that rip bands apart are easy to understand once you realize just how close those folks live for weeks, months or even years on end.
The grind of boredom and road-fatigue inspires mad behavior. Hotel-trashing, drug-binging, groupie-defiling insanity ignites when the Molotov cocktail of road fatigue hits the open flame of live performance, smashes against a wall of self-absorption, and then explodes. Whipsawed between confined isolation and sudden overload, even the most stable people soon tend to go crazy; musicians, God love ‘em, don’t tend to be terribly stable to begin with, and so the earliest days of a band’s career – especially if they achieve sudden stardom – are often marked by wild excess and shocking debauchery. As one Anonymous Artist puts it, “Pretty much everything you’ve heard is true. When you blow your top, everyone in your hotel knows it.” The shit I’ve done,” adds another, “would get me fired from any other profession.” A third Artist, though, has a more generous explanation: “It really is an adventure of a lifetime. A chance to see the world, do stuff you wouldn’t ordinarily do… for a time, you’re living outside of society’s constraints. And every night, you get to soak in the excitement and magick that has happened between band and audience. There really is a kind of larger-than-life epicness… where audience and musicians share in this alternate world that is created by the music… It can leave you feeling immortal. I think all these things together combine to make conditions ripe for cutting loose and letting yourself go wild. It’s like an alternate universe of self-exploration. For some [people], that means taking acid and falling in love, and for some that means getting shitfaced drunk and jumping off buildings with your pants down.”
That wild intensity also breeds fanatical camaraderie. Touring artists become like soldiers in a musical warzone. The trials they experience forge a “band of brothers” mentality, regardless of their gender. Mixed-gender (or similarly-oriented) bandmates sometimes become lovers, united by passions no one else could possibly understand; others, like the members of Judas Priest, accept a bandmate’s lifestyle at a time when the general public (even the fans) would find it appalling. This battlefield bond conceals secrets, cements alliances, soothes disagreements, encourages risk, inspires magic, promotes devotion, fuels addiction (but can also break it), and generally creates solidarity. Certain bands – especially rock, punk and hip-hop acts – essentially become gangs, able, ready and willing to throw down together even if they hate each other as individuals. “I can punch the bass player,” said one Artist, “but if anyone else takes a swing at him, I’ll fucking kill them.”
If the closeness doesn’t destroy you, it helps you survive damn near anything. Artists who manage to survive the grind with their friendship and creativity intact find the tightest bonds of their lives. “I LOVE sharing this musical adventure with my mate,” says one Anonymous Artist: “I know this would be many folks’ version of hell, but for us – we feel like we’re on a mission from God, or so we joke. But more seriously, we feel we share a common vision… we’re working toward the same things, [we] get to create together, and it’s really great for us.” Where many bands cycle through members at an astonishing clip, certain ones – like the Rolling Stones – retain the same essential membership for years or even decades on the road.
For artists who craft literal magic with their music, the band can be a mystic fellowship as well as a musical ensemble. United by common goals of transcendence, power or corruption, such artists share magical beliefs, traditions and tools. They might worship the same gods or demons, owe a group debt to a patron, aspire to change the world toward the same ideals, and probably share a fan base (perhaps even a cult) devoted to their work. The band Acid Washed from the comic series Hack/ Slash travels in a bunch of crates, reanimated by their hell-sold leader when he intones lyrics from “great wizards” like AC-DC and Twisted Sister. Real-life enchanter SJ Tucker invokes deep magic with a variety of collaborators as she pursues a mystic odyssey of ”Rootless” spiritual communion. With or without supernatural powers, a working band shares transcendent intentions. “The thing that kept everyone living this pretty torturous lifestyle,” says Henry Rollins in the book Our Band Could be Your Life, “is the music was THAT GOOD, and we knew it. At the end of the day, we had no money, we were scruffy, we stunk, the van stunk, everyone was against us. But you’d hear that music and know, oh yeah, we fuckin’ RULE.”
And the mighty Living the Life chapter continues to grow past the 20,000-word mark, with no end in sight. On one hand, I'm thrilled - this is, in many ways, the heart of the book as far as I'm concerned; on the other hand, I have yet to address the studio process or the ins and outs of the big-time music business. Out of necesssity, I've had to skim a lot of things and I'll need to skim a lot more before I'm through. The following section may or may not see print in its current incarnation, so enjoy it here now.
Speaking of tours, Sandi and I are off to the FaerieWorlds festival tomorrow, where we'll be celebrating the fifth anniversary of our meeting. Fittingly enough, I was there to roadie for SJ Tucker, who introduced us that weekend; Sandi and I have been together ever since. Yay, music festivals... and thank you, Sooj!
See ya again soon!
The details of touring go far beyond the scope of this book; the Powerchords supplement On the Road Again features further information. In general, though, a traveling musician deals with many, if not all, of the following situations.
In game terms, the following Legacies and Wyrds suit such situations well: the Legacies: Charisma Bomb, Entourage, Fame, Patron and Unkillable; and the Wyrds: Addiction, Bad Rep, Beast, Party God and most especially Road Gremlins. A sadisti… I mean, inventive Storyguide can have a field day with such possibilities, and while most musicians go their entire lives without a single case or crabs or a dust-up with the cops, player characters don’t tend to follow the typical path.
In order to tour, you need wheels. Broke artists can bum rides, borrow cars, score drivers from among their crews and fan clubs, or even – as the Ditty Bops did a few years back – tour on bicycles, with the gear in a van driven by the crew. Artists who can afford to (or who have other folks picking up the tab) rent vans or trucks to haul themselves from place to place. Flush artists, or ones with major label contracts, tour in buses. (On the low-rent end, Gwar used to drive a decommissioned and… er, redecorated school bus.) Headlining acts have luxurious rides or even personally-owned tour buses, while most other acts rent them from companies that maintain a tour bus fleet. Such expenses, of course, come out of the artist’s royalties, so you’re paying for them one way or another.
Whether you’re touring in a broken-down VW microbus or the air-conditioned spaciousness of a Prevost XLII, your ride needs enough room for the musicians and the gear. It must be at least partially enclosed (to protect the gear), and nominally street-legal. Ideally, it’s at least somewhat comfortable, though that’s a minor consideration for low-budget bands. And if it’s not reliable enough to haul hundreds of pounds worth of musicians and their gear, you’re in for a pretty rough ride. Breakdowns are almost a rite of passage on the road, but breaking down in the middle of Interstate 40, halfway between San Jose and Albuquerque at around 4:00 am with a gig in Dallas that evening, is a rite you can live without.
Vans and buses use phenomenal amounts of gas; this can make touring expensive, especially with recent gas prices. You can easily spend more in fuel going one way to your gig than you make on the entire tour, especially if you’re playing small gigs in half-empty venues and then getting ripped off afterward. Add repair bills, vandalism, potential break-ins, and simple wear-and-tear on your vehicle, and you might find yourself touring just to support the ride.
You Can Sleep While I Drive
And then there’s driver fatigue, which can be crippling if you’ve gotta hop out, jump on stage, tune your gear and go… and then drive home afterward. Most artists get drivers to handle the road itself… but as casualties like D. Boon and Cliff Burton can attest, this method has its own hazards. Vehicle crashes are the #2 cause of death among working musicians (drugs obviously being #1), and even if you don’t die, a smashup can seriously screw your career… especially if you were fucked up, driving, and responsible for someone else’s demise.
Long hauls are exhausting, especially when you have a lot of places to be and very little time in between them. A smart musician (or better yet, his manager) leaves plenty of travel time between gigs, and employs a driver who’s probably not using speed to stay awake. If all else fails, everyone takes turns driving, snatching whatever sleep they can catch between shifts. Musicians learn fast how to grab quick naps in adverse circumstances; as some veterans realize when they get home, it might become hard to fall asleep when you’re not crammed into a jostling tiny bunk if you’ve spent lots of time on the road!
Even the most rugged road vet needs an occasional bed. For flush rock stars, that means nice rooms in posh hotels; for everyone else that means whatever you can swing, scam or score when you arrive. While a good manager makes sure that accommodations are part of the budget and itinerary, lots of things can and will go wrong, especially at the lower end of the fame scale. Crappy rooms in cheap hotels are part of the profession; dirty sheets, smelly carpets, obnoxious staff and bug-infested dives – on tour, you deal with what you’ve got, not always what you want.
For many musicians, especially young unknowns, scoring crashspace is part of the job. That’s easier when you’re personable, good-looking, or have magic at your disposal. Lots of people (including, at times, this author) nurture networks of friends, fans and lovers with whom they stay while they’re traveling. A smart couch-surfer rewards his hosts with good behavior, gratitude and personal attention (sexual or otherwise); many musicians, sadly, aren’t too smart in this regard. Musicians have always been infamous freeloaders. The ethical ones make it worthwhile for their hosts, while the rotten ones drop in, make a mess, and then hit the road again… often having burnt their bridges in the process.
I Stole Your Love
Theft presents a special hazard for touring bands. Traveling music artists haul expensive gear, and they’re usually pretty obvious about doing so. As the Cruxshadows learned the hard way, it takes a few short moments for a dedicated group of thieves to strip an unguarded tour van; that band didn’t just lose its gear and personal possessions, but recording gear and the only copies of new material, too. You don’t have to keep your gear in the van in order to lose it that way, either. Jethro Tull’s song “Big Riff and Mando” tells the story of a dude who steals Martin Barre’s mandolin and then tries to blackmail the band into letting him join them onstage as a condition for getting it back.
Touring musicians are prime targets for robbery, too. After all, cops don’t usually spend much sweat on a bunch of out-of-town malcontents unless said malcontents are serious stars. (If you’ve built your rep on dissing the pigs, don’t expect any help at all.) Muggings, venue scams, hotel break-ins, tour-van invasions… the list is as long as it is infuriating. Even fans get into the act, snatching convenient “souvenirs.” Rival bands might sabotage or steal your stuff too, and many instruments just “disappear” into the great gaping maw of the touring musician’s life. Whenever possible, then, keep a close watch on your gear, have at least one roadie or bandmate working as security, and never leave valuable stuff unattended in public. If it can be stolen, at some point it probably will be.
Ticket to Ride
At some point, you’ll probably need to hit gigs that are impossible to drive to. Texas bands don’t play Tokyo unless someone’s lined up plane tickets for the tour! Obviously, such tickets are expensive, time-consuming, and usually booked way in advance. Many artists wind up stranded away from home if and when such arrangements fall through. (I know – it’s happened to me!) International tours also demand passports, visas and other forms of ID… and if you don’t have it with you at all times, you ain’t going anywhere!
Plane-bound tours don’t have to cross oceans. High-end artists use planes just because they’re faster and easier than tour buses! Flying usually involves airports… and lines… and security procedures that get more onerous every year. (Not to mention air sickness, fear of flying, grounded flights, missed flights, layovers, delays…) If you’re lucky and famous, you might catch a private jet; someone’s paying for that ride, though, and if you ever want to see a royalty check, you’d best make sure it’s not your label! Led Zeppelin was big enough to own a private plane, but few bands ever get that successful. The average musician flies Coach, not Air Zeppelin – and yes, your guitar usually costs extra.
It should be obvious that smuggling weapons, drugs and underage groupies onto planes is a really bad idea, especially if you’re crossing national borders. This doesn’t stop musicians from trying to do it. The Golden Days of Rock-Star Excess coincided with very loose airport security, though, and anyone who tries acting like Ozzy Osborne in the post-9/11 world is going to jail… if he’s fortunate.
Magic-oriented travelers face unusual challenges: Do X-rays reveal vampirism? What if I shapechange in the middle of the flight? How do I get my athame/ blood substitute/ weird tree-god herbs/ etc. through Customs? Such things are best thought of before you hit the airport, especially if you’re going somewhere with a vastly different legal system than the one you’re used to dealing with. Sure, your spellbooks might be covered by the American First Amendment, but fly with ‘em into Saudi Arabia and you’re looking at a serious violation. It’s also worth remembering that airline security personnel have tremendous discretion nowadays; if you wind up dealing with a TSA inspector who thinks that Harry Potter is Satanic, you might be detained over things that would normally be legal...
And now, we've come to the painful cuts phase - the portion of the process where things I really wanted to feature in the main book have to be cut out in order to bring the work in at a viable price. A third round of cuts last week has given the ever-growing Living the Life chapter a little more room to move, and the magic and storytelling chapters are beginning to come together too.
Last week, I handed off copies of the current first five chapters off to several advance readers who are in the business. I'm curious to see what their feedback will be.
On a semi-related note, I've continued posting the daily music updates on the POWERCHORDS Facebook page - updates often featuring a slew of connected songs and artists. I don't always cross-post them here for reasons of formatting and time (Facebook and Kickstarter employ different posting formats, and converting them takes time and aggravation), but they're posted almost daily. If you haven't seen one for a while, check out the Facebook page.
Bryan Syme - who just celebrated his birthday yesterday - has been turning in pieces for the More Human Than Human chapter, one of whom - the angel - can be seen below.
In the meantime, here are two entries which will probably appear in a modified form later on in the book Powerchords: Beer Drinkers and Hell-Raisers.
Enjoy, and we'll see ya next week. :)
You’re a money maker… for other people. No matter what you say or how you act, folks pony up when you appear. Perhaps your albums sell like crazy; you could have diehard fans who always show up and drink the bars dry, or a wealth-blessing that enriches everyone but yourself. Whatever the cause, this Legacy makes money for your label, your bandmates, your promoters – everyone, it seems, but you.
What good is this? Well, it lets you get away with a lot. A lot of a lot. You’re so good at padding other people’s bank accounts that when you get into a scrap – messy romance, drunken rampage, punch-up with a fan, and so forth – your patrons will probably bail you out. Cops will be pacified, journalists distracted, paramours paid off, lawsuits settled quietly. At times, your ability to escape the apparent consequences of your actions seems almost mystical. How did those photos blur? Who yanked that sex video off YouTube? How did you manage to get away with waving guns around in front of thousands of fans while threatening to shoot the president? Despite adventures with seafood and groupie girl-parts, you usually emerge unscathed. A little bad press, perhaps, but nothing you can’t handle.
This Legacy covers up your actions after the fact. It will not keep you from getting punched out, arrested, or shot at the scene of your crimes. You might be able to walk away from a manslaughter charge after a car crash, but during the crash itself you’re on your own. Being a cash cow might get you into a discreet rehab, but it won’t help you kick that heroin habit.
It’s also possible to burn out this Legacy. Major-league offenses – maimings, shootings, accidental deaths (and not-so-accidental ones) – will lower your Legacy by one degree per offence. Sure, you might be able to get off the hook after one downtown gunfight, but don’t count on making it a habit… And gods help you if (or when) you stop making money. Should your career stall out, this Legacy will probably disappear for good.
* Minor: Hometown hero – On your home turf, you can get away with small run-ins with the law. Ex-lovers will be bought off, minor indiscretions will be winked at, cops will let you off with warnings so long as no one really gets hurt. Away from your usual stomping-grounds, this Favor disappears.
* Notable: Rising star – Your keepers can get minor charges dropped (shoplifting, DUI, assault & battery) and spin most news sources to make you look charmingly impulsive. Major crimes like kidnapping or attempted murder, however, will probably sink you.
* Grand: Britney Spears – You might wind up a punchline with acres of poor press, but you’ve got enough folks on your side to coast out on the other end of most “youthful indiscretions” with your career and freedom intact. So long as no one gets seriously harmed, folks may even wind up feeling sorry for you.
* Legendary: Motley Crue – World-class decadence just enhances your reputation. Sure, you’ll get in trouble if you actually kill someone, but even then you’ll probably serve less time than mere mortals would.
Possible Conditions: You maintain an adoring fan club; you have at least three hot albums available to the general public; you’ve got the coolest, scariest or most charismatic manager most folks have ever met!
[Guide’s Note: A character with this Legacy must have an established career when the saga opens. Wannabes or raw beginners don’t have enough clout to work this sort of magic.]
You’re not alone. No matter how thankless your life might seem, your fans have got your back. Free drinks, crashspace, kind words just when you needed to hear them most – such are the joys of a dedicated fan base.
Story-wise, this Legacy provides a support network for you and your career. Not as personal or costly as an entourage, nor as vast and impersonal as an audience, this fan base buys your stuff, wears your t-shirts, shows up at your gigs, and offers you the occasional meal, home or sexual encounter. This Legacy doesn’t often come into play through rolls or trait bonuses, although it might give you a boost in a performance situation where your fan base is out in full force. Most often, though, this Legacy manifests as story elements: strokes of love, money or luck that happen just when you need them most. In the uncertain realm of the starving artist, dedicated fans can be literal life-savers. If your gear gets stolen or your appendix bursts, good fans might help you survive.
That said, no one likes an asshole… not for long, anyway. Fans deserve respect, and an obnoxious or ungrateful attitude toward them will soon drive them away. An artist with this Legacy must spent time and attention on his audience in order to keep that Fan Base happy. Your fans make you… and they’ll break you, too, if
you’re not careful with them.
* Minor: Well-kept secret – you’ve got a handful of friends who’ll give you crashspace, lend you money, and buy everything you release.
* Notable: Cult hero – dozens of people across the world support your efforts with attendance, publicity, goodwill and cash.
* Grand: Indie icon – several hundred people provide a support network for you throughout the wired world.
* Legendary: Popular star – your fan base numbers in the thousands, perhaps tens or hundreds of thousands.
Possible Conditions: You tour constantly, hanging out with fans after each gig; you’ve got an elaborate and up-to-date internet network of sites, pages and supporters; you’re made some very influential friends in the mortal and perhaps immortal communities.
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