The Art of Becoming a Rockstar

Any good story needs conflict.

Thankfully, this story is full of it. Unlike a movie, I can't promise a tear-jerker twist ending or a startlingly symmetrical resolution - however - I will certainly try.

This is the story of one young rock band among literally thousands. Like every band in the universe, we want to be famous, we want to play for wild crowds, and we want to do whatever possible to avoid sitting behind a desk for the rest of our lives. At least, I know I want to avoid that fate. We want to be Jeff Tweedy, Jim James, David Byrne, and George Harrison. And like every band of indie rock troubadours, we think we have what it takes... I think I have what it takes. (And you can be the judge)

As I mentioned before, this story is so laden with conflict, its hard to even know where to begin. Here's to a handy bullet list:

1. My band mates live in Austin, TX... I live in New York City
2. We have no money. (And what money we do have, we owe to our parents)
3. The venues have a chronic habit of underpaying us. (See problem 2.)
   
4. I'm an egomaniac (I have the unflattering tendency of claiming to own the band when I'm drunk)
   
5. Our tour vehicle is about two coughs away from breaking down.

And that is just a the short list.

Everyone - my parents, guitar guru Bill Rayner (fact: he once opened for Meatloaf), punk rock professor Vivien Goldman, & my friends (who are tired of hearing about the band) tell me to be realistic - "most bands don't make it. you're just going to have to get lucky."
Fuck it - I was born to rock and I'm going to take you guys along for the ride.

Moses