Working With Purpose
Note: This article was originally published in Tape Op magazine. Here’s the LINK.
As a studio owner in Austin, I used to cash in on SXSW. Creative-use spaces in close proximity to the festival were at a serious premium, and for a few years in the 2010s I could make 6 months rent in two weeks. It meant dealing with corporate money types and an oft-insufferable culture of cool that accompanies these things, but I had fun and met some really great people in the process. Then, to quote Neil Young: “the money was… not so good”. Big sponsors began to realize that blowing huge amounts of advertising dough on hordes of grubby 20-somethings arriving in econoline vans wasn’t paying off like they hoped and things cooled off.
By 2017 the corporate money had dried up, I was tired of the hustle, and the Fader Fort was now a combo Target / Whole Foods. I was feeling burnt out and I wanted to do something more purposeful with my time. I found and contacted a non-profit in my area that helps recently resettled refugees get on their feet. I figured they must have some musicians among their clients, and if I could offer these new neighbors free studio time for the music week of SXSW, maybe that would help them feel more connected to this city and its incredible music community. It turned out to be one of the best things I’ve ever done. That week I got to track a 13-piece Cuban orchestra, some badass rappers, and a university professor from Baghdad who played the oud and microtonal violin. It was, and I hate this word, epic. I even got the Iraqi fella to play some violin on my band’s record!
That experience got me looking at the studio from a different perspective. I could make a difference in my community by using the studio as a vehicle to elevate and empower people, and in doing so I’d get to work with an incredibly diverse group of really cool musicians I wouldn’t encounter otherwise.
The following year I partnered with a group called Soldier Songs and Voices that offers free songwriting and instrument lessons to veterans. It turns out learning music can quite literally repair the brain: creating new neural connections and improving neuroplasticity, which, to a combat veteran with a TBI or PTSD, can offer some serious life-altering healing. It wound up being ridiculously fun and rewarding. One lady recorded a gorgeous classic country song; another man brought the control room to tears with a ballad about his experience with war and loss; and one rowdy vet tracked some straight-up Pantera-inspired metal with the help of a few volunteer musicians we rounded up.
These days my studio has a standing partnership with Kids In A New Groove - a group that provides free music mentors, lessons, and instruments to kids who’ve had experience with Child Protective Services. Their volunteer mentors get discounted studio time whenever they want, and a couple times a year we set up free recording dates for the kids. Every engineer who works out of my place winds up getting involved because it’s an absolute blast and tremendously fulfilling. And there's a business side to it, too, networking, which I know is a much-maligned term. But when getting to know and record interesting musicians leads to more work with them or people they know down the line, that's an additional positive outcome. That's the kind of work I want to be doing.
I’ve never had much expendable income, but I’ve got this space and a little know-how and have come to understand it doesn’t take much to make a real impact in people’s lives. Regardless of where you’re at in your work, I’d implore you to look into non-profits in your area and see if you can use your gear and talents to do some real good in your community, all while meeting amazing new people along the way.
