There’s more to life than music. Thats what someone said to me when I was 16, and at the time I took some convincing.
I had a plan in my mind – a major, all encompassing world domination plan, that music was going to put me on the map, make me immortal and most importantly famous. In my mind I would become so famous, such an exceptional mega star, that everyone who ever knew me would stop what they were doing and think "didn’t he do well, that lad, once an ordinary person, now a rich and famous megastar". so the daydream went.
Sad as it sounds, this fantasy went on in one form or another for another seven years or so, before I managed to grab hold of my ego. The style changed, the ability/imagination ratio changed, but the basic belief continued that I wouldn’t be happy, I wouldn’t be complete until I was hanging out on a yacht with a bevvy of adoring supermodels, and jamming with Sting.
It wasn’t a single thing that bought me down to earth, and made me see my superficial goal for what it was, it was more a combination of things, an accumulation of realised truths. That and the fact that I really am quite shit on the guitar.