When You realise you’ve made the wrong decision. ( Part 4/5 of my “10 Year Guitar Anniversary” entries).

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This entry is part of my ” 10 Year Guitar Anniversary series”. If you want to read all 5 of them check out “Absolute Guitar” in my archives πŸ™‚ This one is supposed to be funny!

Sooo…here you are! You’ve made your decision and made that bold leap! You’re gonna be a rockstar, fuck the haters, fuck them all! You’ve practised yourself mad and your reason has been shredded into oblivion. You dream about your songs and hallucinate about guitars…the time has come to start a band and create heavy-metal history \m/

(or maybe not….)

You see….at a certain point you realise the hard truth that EVERYBODY plays the god damn guitar. There you are thinking you are gonna put together the most amazing, trail blazing band ever in no time, only to figure out that everybody is looking for a drummer!

That’s right! I don’t know about now, but when I started out there was a serious drummer-shortage. Guitarists would pick up the bass to be in a band because all their mates were playing guitar, so if there was to be a band, somebody had to switch to the 4 stringer.

When I realised this I wasn’t particularly happy. I bought my first guitar in Norway, shredded myself into coma in my grandpas attic, deciphering the sacred secrets of guitar by the Norwegian fjords, and after driving everybody crazy including myself, came to the US of A.

I thought to myself that putting together a band would be a piece of pie. I mean come on! All these awesome American bands started out in their parents garage and met during high school.

So I came to the US thinking I would put a super awesome band together just like that.

Wow….

What a surprise I got.

The first thing that greeted me in the windy city was a rather negative attitude. Everybody were playing guitar apparently, everybody were looking for drummers. I thought that America would be overcrowded with talent due to the monopoly of fame that american artists seems to have, but its not like you gonna bump into the next super star the second you set foot in the land of the free. The metal crowd at my high school seemed to be scattered and didn’t have the same unity we had over in Norway, so I saw it as my thing that I had to reach out to whomever looked like an outsider, which I did.

I got some cool friends to hang out with and we tried to put a band together.

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We tried to put a band together……

But thats the problem…if you are serious about your rock’n’roll dream how can you be in a band with a friend who wants to play drums but can’t play for shit?

So….The bass player, the lead guitarist and me became a trio looking for…guess what?

A DRUMMER!!!

I was hanging up adds freakin’ everywhere, over at the ‘Metal Haven’ over at music stores, I put up adds online (just like everybody else) at a certain point I even started stopping random metal guys I saw on the street ” hey you! you look metal \m/ you play an instrument? know anybody who does?”

I mean talk about desperate.

I knew I wanted a band together, no matter what!

I realised that I had entered an over crowded market place. I realised that if I had picked the drums instead I would have been in demand, instead of being one of many desperate musicians searching for the in-demand unicorn.

Me and my friend wrote some music together, we certainly did, but we found ourselves left with the only option of implementing a drum machine.

A drum machine none of us could really handle, to be honest.

We named our drum machine Al or something, but we sucked and Mr.Al became a bit of Β a joke.

We were so black metal and so epic that we never took a band photo.

We were so underground, that we never even played a gig.

We were so fucking epic, we had a band name nobody could pronounce, not even 2/3 of the band…

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Because it was a Norwegian name of all things….so only I could pronounce it…talk about TRVE BLACK METAL ( 666 ) \M/

We plotted that the best thing would be if one of us died (preferably our friend who couldn’t play drums) this way we would secure our immortality in the very obscure universe of Black Metal…

We plotted getting an old school-bus as our tour bus ( not very metal)…and pretty much had an arsenal of ideas and plans that never materialised…thank God.

I think the final blow of the seriousness of the band…was when I was gonna take over lyric writing duties, since nobody else was doing it, and I penned the eloquent opening phrase: “Priests prefer little boys…hyprocrisy behind the mask of *something something* lies” which made my friend nearly die of laughter.

I think that was the end…

the end of Draugr….

What a loss.

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Right around the death of what was supposed to be an extraordinary metal band of indescribable epic proportions, I got caught up with school. I got accepted into the AP art program and was thrilled beyond anything. Finally I got a schedule that made sense and didn’t make me suicidal ( seriously…high school sucked), now I pretty much had 6 hours of art every single day, what a dream!

Even though I wanted to go to a music college, I shifted my focus towards an arts degree. I mean come on…I had been drawing obsessivly since the age of 5, had my first art exhibition at the age of 13 and I had never encountered anything negative at all when it came to my drawing abilities.

Even though I wanted to be a musician I dreaded the audition process. An audition seems to always be part of your application and my face went green with nausea by the mere thought of it.

I didn’t know any theory, I had never played live, I had only played guitar for 1ish almost 2 years and I wanted to be a songwriter. Music was the love of my life, the last thing I wanted was to go through a humiliating audition.

I decided to set my eyes on art school , even thought it wasn’t what I really wanted, since it was my comfort zone. I started focusing on getting a great, diverse and most importantly: CURRENT portfolio together.

The guitar was collecting dust, and I got in the habit of only picking it up and writing some tunes right before I fell into a great, dense, sweet, comatic sleep.

It seemed liked the whole idea of becoming a guitar player was drifting far away, into oblivion.

So what happened next?

NEXT EPISODE! Life intervenes and the guitar becomes my lifeboat and only salvation.

One thought on “When You realise you’ve made the wrong decision. ( Part 4/5 of my “10 Year Guitar Anniversary” entries).

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