(Photo by Rick Miller)
He was tall, dark and handsome. And he carried himself with a confidence that made him seem even taller. I had heard through the “grapevine” that he tended to overshare and had been burned by it, so I was glad that he was willing to get back in the saddle and open up to someone new. It’s crazy out there. I give him props.
When we walked out onstage at the ASCAP “I Create Music” EXPO in Los Angeles in front of a packed audience of over 1,500 people, things got off to a good start when he shook my hand, leaned close, and graciously thanked me for the introduction I had just given him. What a gentleman!
After a few requisite questions that covered the basics (“Where you from?” How did you get into your line of work?), I realized I was sitting across from a fascinating individual. On many levels. As our conversation unfolded, Mayer peeled away any preconceived notions I may have had about him and revealed himself as the talented, passionate, brilliant, funny, unbridled, articulate, conflicted, self-deprecating and ambitious songwriter and musician that many of his fellow music creators know him to be.
He talked about his secret for success: “Continue. Continue. Continue,” boiling down the essence of his message into one word – no small feat for someone who is prone to verbosity. He talked about his restless desire for challenge. He talked about not letting others validate who you are. He talked about trusting his own instincts. He talked about how he learned how to enjoy the journey and the moment instead of always thinking about what the next step should be, and as a result, he is able to make better music and enjoy the process.
He often spoke to the room, as a peer, telling the audience that anyone in that room could be the “next new thing” because there was no “one” thing happening right now. He even joked that he had become so well known, that now he “wanted to be the next John Mayer.”
He was wildly entertaining, and vividly descriptive in describing his craft and the emotional and physical rigors of expressing it. He was most eloquent in describing the feeling of working hard on one song, only to discover the joy of another song suddenly flowing into being from some other place.
He wasn’t perfect. He got a little grumpy talking about Twitter. And at one point he joked and said I looked like one of the characters from The Lord of the Rings films. At first I was taken aback and struggled for a witty comeback (like “Oh, you mean Viggo Mortensen?” But he hadn’t – he meant one of the Hobbits). But even with that quip, he was being honest. Admittedly, I do see a resemblance to Dominic Monaghan. He could be a distant cousin – from another country.
As our rendezvous came to end, he had won me over. Not in a swooning way, like some of his female fans, but as a fellow songwriter (@brilliantmusic). He has the heart and soul of a true artist. And just like everyone else sitting in that packed ballroom, I was enriched by our time together. I had also learned two valuable lessons about pursuing a life in music:
1. To be. 2.Continued.
