Age-Induced-Micro-Rant

Here’s a micro-rant for you:

(By the way, the uncontrollable urge to micro-rant is a sure sign that you’re getting old)

“Independent” used to mean something.  Not just from a business I’m-not-with-a-major-label standpoint, but musically.  Indy meant “This is how I see the world. This is how I express myself”, for better or for worse.  Now Indy means “This is how cool people see that world.  This is what Indy sounds like”.

Let’s build an Indy band together, shall we?  First, the look.  All clothes from boutique second-hand stores, of course.  Tight grey pants and a bunch of flannel.  Pointy leather shoes.  Now grow some stubble.  Girls, that goes for you too.  Let’s see… oh yeah, the glasses.  Thick frames.  Lenses optional.

Now for a catchy name.  Something with a vintage hipness that evokes a flair for the sardonic.  Let’s go with “The Dapper Pandas”.  That ought to stick.

Buy a ukulele, find a glockenspiel player, and work out some short, jerky movements for when things get really intense on stage.

There you go!  Wait, one last thing: make some posters with 1950’s blocky test, hand-drawn animals, and don’t be shy with the pastels and turquoise colorings.

(DISCLOSURE PARAGRAPH:  I own a uke.  I own flannel.  I’ve recorded with glockenspiels.  I’m blind as a bat, so when I wear glasses, lenses are a must.  I dance like I have epilepsy on stage.  I actually think “The Dapper Pandas” is a cool band name.  I’ve been signed to major labels - I think it’s cooler to not be.  If a gig in an “Indy” band opened up, I’d jump on it.  Just know that every time I say “Indy”, it totally has air-quotes around it, even if my hands are full.)