A license to print money … a license to roll in it

“There is no fire left by fate / Love is an angel rearranged.” — Catxman

{quote} “I had a very strange career. I mean I went from playing to 150,000 people in 1983/84. Three or four years later I was playing to four people, you know, in Melbourne. I thought – bit strange, you know bit odd, bit erratic.” — Colin Hay

. . . . . . . Ah, to be on stage! The pulsing energy emanating from the crowd, the big speakers thrumming with beautiful noise, the galaxy seeming to spread out before us, revealing stars.

. . . . . . . I long to be on stage. I have a very good image and a very good voice. I would be a natural. {cont.}

TELEPORT TO (click on the blue below if you don’t want to read this)

more! more people!

. . . . . . . Popular music is in a standby mode as it seeks to find more suitable men to fill the shoes left by the greats of yesterday. If it doesn’t find those men, it will continue to recycle slutty, whiny little girls whose only ability is to be patient with Auto-Tune as it cycles up into activity.

. . . . . . . And successful music careers are a license to print money. Think of it: If first row seats are $1,000 a ticket, and the middle rows are $200 and the nosebleeds are $100, then that’s $1000 x 300 plus $200 x 15000 plus $100 x 30000 for a medium-sized stadium. That works out to $300,000 + $3,000,000 + $3,000,000. That’s a total of six million, three hundred thousand dollars for one show. Of course there’s the expense of renting the stadium and of paying the roadies and the production itself and then taxes …. But Six million dollars! And you can tour as much as you like, reaping a financial whirlwind as you go.

. . . . . . . Michael Jackson, before his death, was planning on doing a series of concerts in one single location. If you’re popular, you can get away with this. People will pay to see you again and again. Girls in particular are fixated on male stars. I am a sexy motherfucker with a smooth talking voice like a DJ’s; my persona is such that I can get girls to stutter for me (they have in the past).

. . . . . . . My need to do music is matched by my skill at lyrics. I am a better writer than any musician in the history of the genre. I can only think of Neil Peart as a lyricist who comes close to what I can do. (There is no fire left by fate….love is an angel rearranged.…) With my combined looks, voice, and writing ability — and a natural sense of music — the only thing left is for me to learn to use the synthesizer. If I could produce my own songs, I would be fucking unstoppable. Unstoppable.

. . . . . . . Catxman is going to see if he can make this dream come true. If he succeeds, he’ll take his place beside Elvis and the Beatles as a once-in-a-generation draw. There hasn’t been a really big male star in decades. The only big star was one in the Eighties, Madonna, and she was on the wrong gender side.

. . . . . . . The power of music is that it can change affairs. The Beatles were subsumed by the Flower Power Movement and became ardent hippies. Rather than lead the charge, they simply were reduced to the state of guru-worshipping followers. The music singer has a duty to lead. There’s a reason people ask you which music bands you like — they’re a kind of leader to follow.

. . . . . . . I don’t want to be in a band. I want to be a solitary presence, like Sting or Bryan Adams. And again — think of the money. Elton John spends thousands of dollars on flowers in his Atlanta and England homes. That flouncing idiot has nothing but womyn fans and they lavish him with their dollars. Candle in the Wind, my ass! And I don’t give a flying fuck for Princess Diana, either. Elton’s life is an improbable success story. I am a logical conclusion by comparison. I make sense.

. . . . . . . There is a sense of history fulfilling itself in my decision to make music. There is a raw need here that has to be exploited, and fulfilled to the teeth. As a rock singer, I would bring Electronic Dance Music into my guitar and drums and make a successful fusion of the two genres. I would make girls crawl over broken glass to get to me on stage. And sex with audience members! I would definitely be down for that! Why bother winning over chicks when you can automatically get them just by virtue of being famous?

. . . . . . . All my life I’ve had to convince chicks to sleep with me. One time I made a proposal to a girl and then absconded myself to go to the bathroom to give her time to think. She said yes when I came back (of course) but I had to set it up. To be a musician, all this comes naturally and without effort. There’s a fucking lineup of hot chicks who want to get boned by you when you’re a hot singer. And again, who else is there out there? There’s a positive dearth of cool guys. I am very cool and suave. There’s too many Ed Sheerans and Barenaked Ladies’ out there, dweebs who have no personal charisma and are lucky to be in the industry. Even Sting was a reluctant hero, making an unconvincing antihero. I would be the ultimate ANTIHERO. There’s a darkness about me that begs to be serialized and shown on TV. Like a biography on Elvis, my story would make riveting watching.

. . . . . . . In the end, it’s all about willpower and need. I’ll win through if I have enough willpower, and will is the one source of riches I have in abundance; that, and talent. Talent + willpower, the essential formula in any artistic endeavor.


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