Been There / Done That

Sundance. SXSW. Hope. Cynicism.

The circus that is the annual Sundance Film Festival invades Utah this week. That means loads of first-time-worn fancy snow coats and fur-draped boots. People in all-black couture talking importantly via AirPods. Some inconvenient downtown and Park City traffic. Hollywood in droves. Exclusive parties. After-parties¹. After-after-parties. But, most excitingly, an influx of hope.

People come to Utah for a week in hopes of dreams coming true—their film getting bought, their song getting picked up, meeting the director who’ll cast them in the role of a lifetime, even just getting a review for that short film that may help you make the next one, and on and on. Dreams can be anything, any size really. Whatever they are for whoever’s out there, those dreams pack in in Salt Lake and Park City. And more than the dreams are the seeds of hope.

Which brings me to a pet peeve of mine: the Been There Done That syndrome. It’s where people who have already experienced something that you are experiencing for the first time come at (or around) you with an attitude of condescension and "oh, how quaint that you’re thinking that way" or some terrifically arrogant and knowing "oh, yes" (leans back in Mighty Rocking Chair of Experience & Condescension whilst scoffing) "I remember THAT."

Which is not to say I hate people talking about their experiences or even sharing knowledge they've gained that could, for instance, finally get me on a good rhythm of antidepressants or help me potty train an obstinate four year old or better negotiate a salary or back a boat into a lake without ruining it or make tasty fried chicken. It's HOW the advice is imparted. Maybe that's everything in life so this little essay is just me holding up an already-well-loved Bach record and saying, "YOU GUYS, HAVE TO LISTEN TO THIS!" but rather “OMG! Did you know that HOW YOU SAY SOMETHING IS JUST AS MARKING AS WHAT YOU SAY?!?”:

But, man, I hate the Above It All mentality.

"Oh, that’s adorable, caring like you do!"

I was at SXSW a few years ago and got to see a garage punk band that isn't exactly world-famous² but definitely falls in the Cool/Critically Adored category. They never really broke out commercially, but—like a lot of punk music—if you know, you know. It's bona fide social currency to be a [band name redacted] fan. They have the cred most bands would kill for. Anyway, [band name redacted] goes onstage³ and, true to their reputation, torch the place. Just a true blue, old school, no fuss rock set. Faces melted. Nether regions activated. Rock n’ roll in concentrate. It was truly awesome and everything you’d want in a mid-day set of rock n’ roll. I genuinely loved it, which is why I’m redacting the band name.

Except!

In the middle of their set, this very experienced, been-around-the-block band's frontman sarcastically comments,

"We're SO EXCITED to be at (dramatically) South-by." (snickers) "We really wanna get (snarls) SIGNED. We really wanna get (faux excitement) NOTICED. This is gonna be our (peak sarcasm) BIG BREAK."

And in the process took a giant salty piss on any young band that dared to care that they were finally at SXSW. Who believed a single show could matter⁴. Some band that might have had the naivete to believe that being at SXSW might make a difference in their career And here's the thing, for the most part, sure, it didn't and wouldn't. But how about just let the young band have it? Let it be meaningful. Let the dreamers dream. Let the hopers hope. Let the college students stay up late and talk about saving the world without sarcastically remarking, "I remember when I had ideals!" 

When my son was about to turn three, it was 10:30 pm, the night before and panic struck. "We didn't get him balloons?" I was rushed to the nearest balloonery to literally save the fate of nations.

Today, three more kids later, I laugh at us. The panic. The worry. The technicolor, mega stakes of it all. But it was real then. So real. You only get one third birthday and what if the kid woke up without balloons? I guess we're lucky that those can/could be our worries, even if they aren’t something I worry about—even kind of—now.

But it makes me want to be really careful and empathetic and not sneering or quietly laughing⁵ when someone talks about how hard it is to have one kid. Because it's bloody hard. I remember. Vividly. And I don't want to forget and I certainly don't wanna be [band name redacted] making someone think that their very real emotion somehow is a failing. Some of my favorite people are the experienced folks who can impart that experience with empathy and wisdom—and without the barely veiled disdain. They’re in it with you, not above you.

Why turn the hose on someone’s hopes (or, worse, fears)? What does it do for you? It just reminds me of grade school antics, when kids will burn another kid just to ensure that their place on the proverbial totem pole is NOT the bottom. It’s the belief that trashing someone else is gonna somehow elevate you in the social strata. And maybe in some circles, it does. But not in any context that matters.

Let’s end with this quote from comedian Conan O’Brien, when he was being unfairly ousted from his place as NBC’s Late Night host. He had every reason to be mad, to be cynical. But this is what he said:

“Please do not be cynical. I hate cynicism – it's my least favorite quality, and it doesn't lead anywhere. Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen.”

When Conan says “nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get”, it makes me think of the singer of [band name redacted] and how some of the acid in his comments probably stemmed from [band name redacted] never really getting whatever it was he thought they were going to get. They’re punk, so it’s probably not Grammys or major labels or whatever. But it does feel like those comments might come from a deficit of something, something that mattered to him, to them, whatever that was. Why else take shots at somebody else’s hopes except to make yourself feel better about yours that were unfulfilled?

1. I’ve gotten lucky to see some great stuff somehow at Sundance, not the least of which was a surprise show by Icelandic band Sigur Ros at the tiny and now-defunct Park City club Suede. It was just as they’d released their sophomore album ( ) and it was mind-blowing. For most of us, at least. I’ll never forget a musician friend of mine coming up to me, midway through the set, remarking, “This is so boring, right?!?” Meanwhile, my arms were beset with chills and my eyes were nursing tears. To each their own.

2. They have two songs with > 1m plays on Spotify and the rest hover respectably around 200k (which, let’s call a spade a spade, I would think was massively successful for my own music).

3. In their official bio, the band talks about how they formed with the ideal to “never play a venue with a stage.” Just as long as we’re talking about ideals and all that…

4. One of my favorite quotes about music-making comes from Bay Area songwriter Chuck Prophet (The Tom Petty of San Francisco, as my friend Alex calls him) is this: “Making a decent record is a lot like coaching high school football. You've got to be smart enough to do it and dumb enough to think it matters. It does matter.”

5. Fair being fair, it’s likely that I hate this because I probably do this.