I'm not sure when or how it comes about, but every few years I will inevitably start to question what I am doing with my life. Most of the time I am saved from pondering why I am doing the work that I am doing because I can usually rationalize away the question by reminding myself that it's just a job and I need the livelihood. There are times, though, that the rationalization fails me and I am left with the depressing thought that I have just wasted years of my precious, short existence without accomplishing a damn thing. Believe me when I say that there isn't a more desolate feeling than waking up all alone in your tour bus bunk and feeling sorry for yourself while speeding through some unknown state in the middle of the night. It can happen any time at all and sometimes without us knowing it happened until it's already happened. After all, one moment your life is wonderful and serene in a world of perfect order and harmony, and in the next instant you find yourself trapped inside a cubist nightmare in which all angles are askew and perspective is challenged. This change in perception is not only relegated to road dogs, as it can overcome you anywhere and at any time. It can happen while you are pushing yet one more amp rack through yet another maze of backstage hallways. One can even be overcome while mixing a band for the hundredth time, driving a truck, packing the truck, dealing with uninformed clients, or for that matter negotiating with uninformed and half crazed band leaders. What I am speaking of is not job dissatisfaction, although that's how the feeling seems to manifest, but a lack of passion, excitement and wonder. Possibly it's just that you have become complacent, secure in the fact that you know your job and you do it well, so well, in fact, that you could probably perform the duties of your chosen vocation in your sleep or, at the least, with very little sleep. The excitement has gone, the glamour has been denuded and just about every thing that was magic in regard to your job has become ordinary and mundane. Even the lifestyle has lost its luster and lure, and no matter how you try to remedy the tear in the fabric of your existence, there is just not enough tie line or gaff tape to repair the situation.
Sometimes all you need is a vacation, or maybe some quality family time to kick back and unburden yourself from the yolk of your profession. Take up a hobby, exercise, read a book or learn a new skill so that you can advance to the next level of your vocation. Multi-task and do all the latter, but do not stay the same, for while you might be able to perform your job tasks in your sleep, your lack of passion for what you do will permeate not only through your work, but through your whole existence. You'll be the eccentric old road dog on the bus recanting the great stories of the "old days." While dropping names that are vaguely remembered by a few older travelers, you will find yourself amusing the younger bus riders with boozy recollections of the last KISS tour you worked.
After a few drinks you'll be ranting about how real the music was "back then" and how engineers were better "back then" because they were able to make everything work without any of the modern toys that make it so easy now. You'll seethe about how singers could sing and players could play without backing tracks "back then" and then in one last burst of frustrated energy you will espouse the virtues of analog boards while berating the new wave of digital consoles. By this time you will be too drunk to go on with your stories of the "good old days" and you will then fall asleep in the lounge, thereby leaving all the younger members of the tour to devise ways in which to take silly pictures of you with their digital cameras so they can be posted on the tour's Internet site.
While experience may be the best teacher, it is passion that keeps us fresh and new. Passion is what brings life and vibrancy to what one does. A perfect performance without passion is just slick and polished, leaving us still wanting and unfulfilled. On the other hand, a passionate performance, while it may be flawed, will always leave us satisfied and content. This type of passion, or lack thereof, is the same essence that goes into an audio mix, and while it is not as easy to discern as the excitement coming from the stage, it is still a viable form of energy that will affect each and every performance. Often it is not only the acquired technical skills of the engineer that makes for a great audio mix, but the intangibles as well. Desire to succeed, desire to improve and to take pride and joy in one's work are some of the ethereal qualities that bring life to what one does. After all, if someone is physically sick, drunk or exhausted, his work will usually suffer as the corporal symptoms of the illness are expressed. Unfortunately, these same symptoms are not always as readily apparent if someone loses his love or passion for what he does.
I can say from my own personal experience that during various stages of my career it has not been the passion for my work that I have lost as much as it has been the enthusiasm for the lifestyle that accompanied the work. The luster of being a world traveler for months on end wore off when one day, as I was leaving to go overseas, my one-year-old daughter blocked the door to our apartment with her toys and said "Da Da no go." It was a compelling argument and shortly afterwards my touring days came to an end. The charm of staying out until 4 a.m. and working in clubs started to wane when I finally tired of smelling like an ashtray and I was mixing bands for whom I had no interest or compassion. I stopped doing one-offs when I realized I had no wish to wrap another cable, push another road case or put in another 14-hour day of mostly waiting, while someone else mixed the show.
I must say that while I still do gigs and go on the occasional road trip, I am certainly much more selective about the work I accept. Of course, money talks and I always consider any gig that is offered to me. After all, once a freelancer, always a freelancer, although these days, due to my many years of passionate audio work, money needs to speak in a loud booming voice for it to be heard above the constant din of professionalism. What I am trying to say is that even though you may be well skilled at your livelihood, you also need to have a love for what you do in order to keep producing good work, as well as keeping up with the ever-changing times. Without this fervor and enthusiasm you may just find yourself on the bus playing the part of the old curmudgeon, reminiscing about the "glory days of old," as the bus speeds into the brave new world of the future.
