Balancing the dizzy highs with the inevitable lows

Doing these blog posts has been quite helpful for me in an unintended way - I can benchmark how I’m feeling in relation to the many varied things I’m doing, both before and after, try to find trends and learn from them.

Ideally it would help me identify any risk areas for anxiety/melancholy and take preventative measures, but more realistically it’s just helped me solidify what I already knew to be true and accept it for what it is. If it keeps happening, this must just be the craic.

Recently I organised a 3-day music festival in Sunderland called ‘Huge Weekend’ where I worked with tastemakers to programme the very best lineup of local talent. It was a real success both financially and in how the event went down, and I’m very proud of how it elevated our music scene on a special weekend in the City. I can reflect on that very positively with plenty of practical learnings for future events.

I wrote a long blog post about this, which will remain unpublished. It was more of a journal really, too emotional and too personal to be of use to anyone else.

I think that’s where the line is - a lot of people in music can relate to some of the struggles I face, but some of them are too specific to me and so I should keep them to myself. There have been a couple of blog posts like this that will never be published - useful to me, not to anyone else.

One trend I am feeling from my own writing, that others may relate to, is the dread around large events and gatherings. Festivals, gigs, DJ sets, parties. I am so game and so motivated to deliver a great event logistically, artistically, but the social element of it really does scare me off. 

I see so much chaos around me at these events, and make no mistake that does come with the territory. The entire live music industry is built around selling alcohol, and we can’t decouple the two - most people have a much better time with a drink in their hand, myself included. 

And in turn, some of the bodies we need to get through the door to break even aren’t necessarily there for the music, but instead see the event as just one stop on a debaucherous weekend tour of cubicles, coffee tables and kitchen counters. As I said it comes with the territory, and I can accept that.

What gets me down is the impact that these people have on my people. IE the impact that my event has on my people. IE the impact that I have on my people.

This becomes a problem when you spend time in the run up to events - time that should be spent planning, refining, rehearsing - worrying about what’s gonna happen. 

And then when it does happen, you then spend the time after the event - time that should be spent reflecting, learning, growing - regretting having put your people in that position.

Ultimately, while people do make their own decisions, it’s difficult to escape the feeling that putting them in the room makes you at least partly responsible. All your ambitions and foresight and creativity have served to put your people in a place where fucking their lives up becomes that much more alluring, and resenting you becomes that much easier.

All the time you’ve invested in your projects is at the expense of time you could have invested in your people. Because when the buzz of the event dies down and you’re back to your reality, all of a sudden your reality is a lot worse than where you left it, and you have to deal with that.

This holds me back quite a lot. I’m a musician, I feel the constant cycle of inspiration and ambition - a new song, a new idea - battling against the realisation of what will likely happen if I’m successful. And that is a really low feeling: the higher you elevate yourself artistically, the harder those around you will fall. I have seen and felt people I love fuck things up, and fuck me up, so many times now.

THAT is the learning I hope you can relate to. This weird life we lead, balancing the highs with the lows. We are exceptional in that we aren’t normal and that we ask a lot from our people. I do wonder if it’s worth it?

I’ve wrestled with this a long time now, for several years, and that’s why I am so patchy in my commitments. It weighs very heavily on me. 

My head will be out of it for a long time, then I’ll fall in love with an idea and dip in just long enough for the rot to set back in, before retreating again and wondering how and why I ever dared to try. But I must try, for this is who I am. It’s who I was before all the other bullshit, so I shouldn’t let it take that away from me.

I have a brand new music project that I’m hoping will bring some relief here, by directly addressing these recurring things I see and experience in the lyrics, and having a much-needed sense of humour about the situation. 

The problem is that it’s so good, it’s bound to fuck things up again.

See you round the twist

CRISPY