Connection is Better Than Performance
It can be difficult to live any sort of life. Existence quite literally takes everything we’ve got. But until I experience a past life regression session (and it’s coming soon), my life is the only one I’ve lived. And I’ve made the choice to be a performer. And being a performer is very difficult.
I think I learned to perform at an early age, years before I picked up the bass guitar. Because of various societal and religious expectations, I quickly learned that if I followed the rules and measured up to these expectations-that’s would be my best chance at finding peace and calm. By doing what was right, according to other people, I could be free to be me.
I’ve always been somewhat of an idiot, but maybe you can relate.
Fast forward and I’m 18, finally free from some of that bullshit. I made a decision to be a professional musician, and my world got so much bigger and brighter. I started playing gigs all over Atlanta and I made so many friends. I find a well of focused spirit and discipline in the practice of music. I found the values that I had been seeking within my favorite songs. Joni Mitchell became a saint. I realized that if I could just keep playing, I would be okay.
I also met some girls. Playing the bass was for me!
Then I started touring. Holy shit that was fun. I went all around the country (50 states club official member right here). I made so many friends. I played a huge concert at Central Park in Manhattan. I went all around North America. Then I went to Europe! Then I spent the best two weeks of my life playing sold out shows in Japan. I ate all the food that I could. The cooks at one of the venues knew we were American so they made us fried chicken. It’s the best thing I will ever put in my mouth.
All this happened, I thought, because I could play the bass and play it well.
Then I go “solo.” I became a successful solo instrumental bassist. That really isn’t something that exists, although now it does and it is me. I was making more money than I ever had, routinely playing 6 nights a week. And people loved me. I was in a healthy relationship. And I got the dog I’ve always wanted, a black Pomeranian named Chopin (aka Chops).
It’s all because I played at a certain level. Except it really wasn’t.
It’s now October 18th, 2025 and a lot of this has come crashing down. The pendulum will always swing, and what goes up…well you know how this ends. I’m no longer in a relationship, money is a real growing concern, friendship is more complicated, and I had a traumatic brain injury which makes playing the bass difficult. Chopin is thankfully still here, nuzzled against my leg as I type.
Losing can be a great teacher, and I think all of this personal tragedy came to teach me an important lesson. Everything good in my life doesn’t happen because of how well I perform. It all happened when I slipped into connection mode over performance mode.
I love being a performing musician, but I think what I love most about it is the way it helps foster connections. It helps us connect to the earth, to each other, and to ourselves. It is truly a decoration of time and space and vibes. Whenever I think back on the moments that stand out as my best or my favorite performing, all I can think of is just how deep the connections were. I don’t think about how good I sounded or how many cool ideas I had or how smart my arrangements were. I’m not thinking, I’m just connecting with something massive and true.
I’m not really a performer anymore, though I do play often and hope to see you at a gig sometime. I’m now a connector. And I will always try to connect music to the lives of the people who listen.
It’s difficult to live any sort of life. But if we remember to connect rather than perform, it’s a lot more enjoyable to be alive.
PS: There is a typo in this post. I came back in here to edit it, then decided to leave it in because we aren’t performing anymore :)