Posted 7:46 PM by sport

While it means nothing at all, I just want to mention that the habitual self-castigation and kvetching in these entries has nothing to do with the commercial failure of my work, which I fully expect everytime I set out to work. It's the damning with faint praise and the "telling non-mention" that gets to me. I can't get too specific about this, because I'd wind up making my friends feel bad if I cited examples. Let's look at it this way, though. There is a hierarchy of work. It gets a little convoluted, but a simplified, off-the-cuff layout might go something like this:

GREAT WORK (recognized) Bach, Thelonious Monk, Bob Dylan
GREAT WORK (unrecognized) David Garland, Alec Wilder, R Stevie Moore
GREAT WORK (accepted on principle, but seldom enjoyed) Harry Partch, Ives, The Minutemen
GREAT WORK (mistaken for utter shit) Brian Wilson (when his best work was new), Scott Walker (ditto), the Bee Gees
GREAT WORK (appreciated widely but underrated) Carole King, Four Seasons, Hoagy Carmichael

GOOD/DECENT/MEDIOCRE WORK (mistaken for Great Work) Beck, The Byrds, Nirvana
GOOD/DECENT/MEDIOCRE WORK (appreciated widely) all solo Beatles (that isn't utter shit), Lauryn Hill, Bruce Springsteen
GOOD/DECENT/MEDIOCRE WORK (ignored) Epic Soundtracks, Supersister, Neil Innes
GOOD/DECENT/MEDIOCRE WORK (mistaken for utter shit) ELO, Bobby Rydell, KC and the Sunshine Band
GOOD/DECENT/MEDIOCRE WORK (accidentally achieving genuine Great Work status) Alice Cooper (the band), Tijuana Brass, Gary Lewis and the Playboys

UTTER SHIT (famed, praised, best selling) 99 per cent of what's in the store, Rage Against The Machine, Sting
UTTER SHIT (generally accepted as good-to-great by "music savvy" listeners) 80 per cent of your cd collection, Rod Stewart, Liz Phair
UTTER SHIT (mistaken for Great Work) most Philip Glass, most Prince, Rachmaninoff
UTTER SHIT (mistaken for Good/Decent/Mediocre) Eminem, Smashing Pumpkins, John Williams (the composer, not the guitarist)
UTTER SHIT (accidentally achieving Great Work status) Rodd Keith, Joe Meek, Mysterious Clown

Now, obviously, this is totally subjective, so spare me any complaints. I was thoughtful enough to skip stuff like Led Zeppelin. Also, there are vast nuances within the second category (Good to Mediocre is a mighty steep gradient), and a lot of things shift about in my mercurial estimation. Why no mention of faves like Serge Gainsbourg, Neil Young or Sly Stone? My aim is not to be exhaustive or definitive, but to give a broad outline of the situation in order to rank myself as per the thrust of this particular monologue.

One wants to be in the GREAT WORK (recognized) category. This can never be. The mind knows and the heart senses (thanx, Biff) that, often, truly GREAT artists become convinced they make UTTER SHIT. The dream is so far reaching that the artist can only see the shortfall, and certainly nobody else is equipped to judge greatness... it's almost unique that in Bob Dylan's case this has happened. So one daydreams of status in the GREAT WORK (unrecognized) category. This delusion can be maintained until one gets "noticed" to any degree whatsoever, and if this goes poorly, it's direct to the GREAT WORK (mistaken for utter shit) category, and there could, of course, be a GREAT WORK (mistaken for good/decent/mediocre) category as well. All is vanity. Seldom (at the outset) is the possibility entertained that one is not worthy of any of the GREAT WORK subsets, otherwise who'd bother? Eventually, however, this realization will sink in.

The ego cannot bear to be in the UTTER SHIT zone, even though, as we see in the final grouping of Keith and Meek and Clown, this could be a slick way back into the GREAT WORK club. Catch is, you need to be completely fucking nuts and will never reap the joy of knowing how GREAT you are. Self-consciousness (of the kind demonstrated by this very blog) forbids that level of trickster accomplishment. So we face the grim truth (we think), and try to determine in which part of the middle area we can homestead. Again, it'd be fantastic to find oneself in the G/D/M (appreciated widely) slot. This is the most enviable position in all the first 2 groupings. You make a sweet living, get the props and the oral sex, and need not go crazy with the Genius saddle (deserved or not). If posterity revises you into the UTTER SHIT file (this is almost always the case, by the way), no skin off your ass. Alas, this is not possible for the likes of me. Truthfully, GREAT WORK (unrecognized) is a likelier prospect. But let's get real.

A G/D/M (mistaken for utter shit) presupposes that one is noticed enough to get mistaken for utter shit (assuming it's a mistake). It ain't me babe. So where? O Where? Any sane person, given all the choices, would be more than content to be in the first subcategory of UTTER SHIT. Your cluelessness will ensure permanent psychological security and you'll live like a pasha until your worthless career ends and your pernicious cultural influence enters its camp half-life. Pretty much the same can be said for the second rung on the UTTER SHIT ladder, assuming you make Rod Stewart bucks (see that's a pretty thin slice of the cold cut, deciding whether he should be there or in the first UTTER SHIT group. It's all ballpark). I firmly believe I am not bad enough to accept any of the UTTER SHIT designations, though that's often in doubt. So we wander through the G/D/M wilderness, bumping into chumps and champs alike, like Casper the Ghost looking for a friend.

I aver that it's certainly possible I could fit the G/D/M (accidentally achieving GREAT WORK status) spot to a charitable observer. But that same self-consciousness issue arises, and this too is flung to the rocks. G/D/M (ignored) might be the most hospitable clime for one such as me. Admittedly way down the spectrum towards MEDIOCRE, with occasional peeks into DECENT if I jump energetically enough and catch a fair breeze. The people I've chosen for this subset, especially Innes, have at times made GREAT WORK. So their selection may betray my own desire for similar ranking.

However, if - and it's a big "if" - I continue making music, there can be no justification for such labor (and it is labor, motherfucker... like you can't imagine) unless I find a way to convince myself that GREAT WORK (any subcategory) is possible. Sometimes I hear Magic Beans and still think it's possible. That was surely as close as I've come… Cactus Boy especially. Believe it or not, and I'm sure you'll believe it, there are rare moments when I believe I ACHIEVED it and that you're all too fucking unevolved to recognize my Genius in its totality. Perhaps a firmly held conviction of that unforgivably egotistical sort is always simmering below, and accounts for all my rage and depression. It surely takes honesty like unto Genius to even admit such a thing, wouldn't you agree? I didn't think so. You're right: I'm an asshole. Anyway, I don't expect to find a means to reconstruct my delusion to any practical degree. If I do, though, it will probably involve going completely bonkers (not an impossible thing), and maybe it'll catapult me into the UTTER SHIT (accidentally achieving GREAT WORK status) subcategory. Luck be a lady!

You'll notice there is no UTTER SHIT (unknown) listing. Of course, there should be, and maybe... gulp... maybe I'm... oh jeez.