Why Play Music?
Is there any point to being in a band in 2026?
This is a tough one to write. I’ve deleted it and started over three times now. The reason it’s so difficult is that every time I start writing this, it quickly veers off into negativity. I don’t want to paint this subject with just one color, you know?
It’s the end of 2025 as I begin to write this. In about a month, I will be 55 years old. I have played music for my whole life. My first band was formed when I was 13. I was in a punk rock band from the ages of 25 to 32 that made records, got around a bit and were well known within the 90s Punk Rock world of the time, which was swollen to bursting with bands. We are still remembered by some for what we did, and that is very nice, but the world has completely changed since then.
Dimestore Haloes- "Hot Pink Stereo"
I love rock and roll. It’s what keeps me going, and inspired, and interested in life. It has been there for me, every time, for as long as I can remember. Every heartbreak was soothed with a song. Every death, every dead end job, every good day, every bad day, every day. There is always a song, and it helps explain the world, and myself, to me.
Elvis said, “I learned very early in life that: ‘Without a song, the day would never end; without a song, a man ain’t got a friend; without a song, the road would never bend - without a song.’ So I keep singing a song.” I mean, what else is there?
I have recently left a band, which I started with a friend, that has existed for about 15 years now. We were working on our fourth full length record, which we now know will remain un-recorded. Most of our shows were not poorly attended, although we certainly were not selling out stadiums. Nor would we want to. We play cozy, intimate bar room rock shows that are usually a lot of fun. We’ve met lots of good people and many of them have become supporters (I hate the word “fan”) and friends. We’ve made enough money from playing and selling merch that we can normally use band money for things like pressing records, more merch, etc- although some costs, like travel, studio time, etc do come out of our own pockets. In addition, we are lucky enough to have a record label (RUM BAR RECORDS!) that helps us with so many things— like getting the music heard in a small way nationally, sending out review copies (to podcasts, radio, zines, websites, etc) and paying for CDs to be pressed and distributed. Obviously not every band has this, and we are lucky.
The guys in the band were probably my best friends. I am not a people person, a condition which is increasingly more acute as the years go by. There are times that I am sick of looking at their faces, even though I’d take a bullet for each of them. Working with four separate, prickly personalities who are likely to all be trying to pull things four different ways at once can be frustrating. Certainly, we are not making lots of money and playing for thousands of adoring people, so it makes one wonder: Why keep doing this? What’s the point? What are the goals here?
Are we doing it for fun? Well, it is fun sometimes. The shows and recording sessions are fun, and learning new songs is fun. Playing the same songs over and over in a rehearsal space for months and seemingly not getting any closer to being “ready” isn’t that much fun. The same jokes, the same shit talking, the same tiny, cold room where we all get to smell each other up close isn’t. It can wear on you. Sometimes, when we haven’t done the fun part in a while, the not fun part starts to seem overwhelming. Really, I have to take a bus or Uber across town in the rain, hauling my guitar, just to have somebody forget half (or more) of what we worked on the previous week, or play a song for the hundredth time and still blow the same chord change or accent that they’ve been blowing since the first time the song was attempted? Feels to me like we’re not getting anywhere. Again, I love those guys, and this is not meant as a dig to anyone. We all have our crosses to bear, and I am certainly no joy to behold sometimes, myself. It just felt to me like we were not getting anywhere, and the joy and fun just slowly evaporated, along with my patience.
And again, that question….what/where is anywhere, exactly? What are we trying to do? If we are just having fun with our buddies, why are we writing our own songs and making records? We could be in a cover band and probably have a lot more fun. Are we trying to gain a bigger following and work to get our music heard on a higher level by more people? I guess in a way we were doing that, in a lazy, unfocused way, but very much on our own terms. We are all in our 40s and 50s with jobs and lives and families of our own, so surely the time to take such a chance has passed. If you want to really be heard, to be known, you have to spend every day on doing that. You have to tour. Pay a manager, a booking agent, pay your own way on the road. You have to hit that social media like the Panzer Division, or pay someone to do that. We can’t do that and still keep our relatively normal-ish lives going at home. Starving for your art and sleeping on stranger’s floors at 55 seems dumb. That’s a young person’s game, better to leave it to them. And I feel like the youth are stepping up more and more lately.
Since only a small (yet arguably appreciative) audience has ever heard my songs, does it matter if I take the cheaper and more low stress route of recording albums in my garage and not bothering to be in an active band? I remember what Joe Strummer sang: “If you’ve been trying for years, we’ve already heard your song.” So I tell myself I’m not trying. I’m just playing. I’m just doing. One day, I will get sick and/or die, and there will be no more songs comin’ outta me. I hope somebody will miss my songs when they’re gone, but by then…who knows?
Right now, writing this, I am unsure why I still do it. And I guess we have the answer, as since I began writing this (started on Nov 25, 2025), I have indeed made the huge and frightening step of leaving my own band. I also have an inkling that it matters so little what decision I made that I’ve already wasted too much time on the internal debate. I believe in writing songs, and I believe in making art. Maybe being in an active live band isn’t even the best way for me to do that now. Should I become a YouTuber? Meh. Maybe? Maybe I’ll just sit on my couch and pet a cat. That’s all I seem capable of doing right now, anyway.
So I left the Cheap Cassettes, my band, that I started (with drummer Kevin) back in 2011. And yeah, I feel absolutely rudderless. What do I do now? I feel weirdly free, though, and that’s kind of nice. I feel kind of “single and looking to mingle”, but musically. Only musically. So, a mixed bag of thoughts, really, that I need to sort.
Another thing needing a good sort through— Sadly, one of my former bandmatess was not happy at all with my leaving, and even though I explained as best I could, was super shitty about it. Now, that person is no longer a friend. I guess he was hurt by what probably seemed a sudden departure, and I was hurt at the complete lack of support and caring from someone who had been a friend. As if we aren’t all just furiously pedaling fast BMX bikes towards the abyss, anyway. Yours is a Team Murray, but mine is a Mongoose. Race ya.
The Cheap Cassettes- "Endless Summer Ends"
Anyway, this has not been very interesting. And this Substack is not intended as a dumping point for all of my various yippies and miseries. But, y’know, maybe I can help someone with this rant. Hey, if you’re on the fence, if you’ve been in a band for a long time, and it just isn’t feeling right anymore, take my advice and quit. You’ll either figure it out or you won’t, but you won’t be paying for a rehearsal space anymore, and that’s pretty great. Even if you’re in Bon Jovi. Especially if you’re in Bon Jovi.
