The 1980’s are still trying to make a comeback, bringing their overinflated sense of self-importance with them.

A few weeks back I was featured in a WBUR on-air segment about performing live via UStream and selling my songs as a fan-driven Subscription Service rather than just making round pieces of plastic every year or two. The people at the radio station thought what I’m doing was innovative enough to give me nearly 8 minutes of air time during the morning drive. Then I got two comments like these:

That idea doesn’t sit well with everyone, including Boston musician and rock critic Dave Wildman. “I don’t know, it freaks me out,” he says with a laugh. Wildman likens Ebel to a talented street performer on the information super highway.
WBUR.org

It’s success if that’s what he wanted, definitely. If not…then no, he’s still got more work to do.

My guess? Dude still has a lot more work to do.
Justin Boland, comment on Hypebot.com

These two comments, though lamentably myopic, are understandable. Believe me, I can level with these opinions by making only one assumption: Their definition of “success” is stuck in the coke-filled limousine of Motley Crue, 1985.
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I played one of the best shows ever last night. It wasn’t on the schedule- heck, it wasn’t even planned. There was no stage, no sound system, barely even an audience. In fact, the audience consisted of my roommates and my roommate’s mom. Three people.

Every so often it happens- I play for an audience that truly appreciates me. I see them mouthing the words as I sing them. I hear the unbridled laughter as someone, for the first time, discovers what the song Trees is about. I hear them requesting songs that I wrote or songs that they like my version of better than the original.

To me it does not matter the size of the assembled crowd. I would much rather play for these three people than a crowd of 300 incessantly requesting Bon Jovi or “Pour Some Sugar On Me.” I am not in this business to become a meat-based jukebox, I am an artist because I want to connect with people on a level that goes beyond a handshake.

If I can reach that level even for one person at a time, I am a success.

Photo by RoninOtter

This is only partially a “starving artist” post. Plato said necessity is the mother of invention. This is especially true of songwriters, it seems, since we all need something to write about. Without a hole somewhere, we wouldn’t be able to fill it. Music is something I create out of a struggle for something greater. Greater success, money, understanding, guidance, love… Without the hunger for whatever’s on the next shelf up, I wouldn’t be compelled to climb.

All that being said, being hungry in the literal sense just gets old. There is a point at which “starving artist” changes from cute moniker to annoying fact of life. A working musician faces 12-hour days with a schedule that extends to 2am on weekends, usually for very little money and no job security. To have some corporate schmuck with a regular commute, a 401k, and a 2-beer lunch break treat you like some lazy hippie gets discouraging. Sometimes I think it’s sour grapes- that their hunger for something artistic or expressive has simply made them bitter.

Hunger, literally, sucks. But a spiritual hunger has led to some of the best work I’ve ever produced. Latté Days & Porter Nights is all about hunger (well, actually, thirst, but same idea). Hunger is the road sign that only the café on the horizon can satisfy. It is what keeps you driving, even if it’s an all-nighter with the band sleeping in the seats behind you.