MUSICIANS are probably the most underappreciated and misunderstood lot despite the ubiquity of music in our everyday lives. The fact that they are also often multi-hyphenated individuals doing different things to get by is frequently lost on the non-musical public.

There is a certain romanticism reserved for musicians; they are the torch bearers of emotions – predominantly the romantic love sort – and are often perceived as authentic folk who are wholly at peace and in tune with themselves. They are “happy-go-lucky”, “passionate” and “real”, but also excused, understandably, from what’s usually expected of squares, like being punctual and observing the regular circadian rhythm and routines.

This romanticism is oftentimes tinged with reservation and veiled hostility by some quarters of the ritual-abiding public, who perceive musicians as a montage of seedy characters with loose morals and whose vanity is tainted by hedonistic drives. They are alcoholics, drug users, “kutu”, promiscuous, nihilistic. Ask the demagogues, and they’ll add a refreshing slew of slanderous titles, like “satan worshippers”, “free-sex enthusiasts” and “blood-letting/drinking ghouls”. Malaysia’s contemporary cultural history is a field ripe for the picking.

And yet, at the same time, the musically inclined embody the values and aspirations of the status quo, commonly as paid endorsers of goods ranging from household appliances to beauty products and 3-in-1 coffee; people whose grace, posture and beauty personify the notions of success, glamour, wealth and health unattainable by the tone-deaf and musically challenged.

These stereotypes, from both ends of the spectrum, pervade, and for better or worse, have staying power. The fact of the matter is, you are more likely to be conned by a clean-cut, well-dressed, every-mother’s-dream-son-in-law-looking person at your doorstep than someone who resembles Jim Morrison. It’s hardly imaginable, to begin with, that someone in Morrison’s likeness would wound up knocking on your door, shirtless and drawling poetic murmurs, trying to sell you something that’s too good to be true.

Musicians are human beings, too. They have families, aspirations, thoughts, fears and bills to pay. And unlike most professions, there’s a higher probability of them being cheated rather than be the ones doing the swindling. Look back on the history of musicians (especially Malaysian ones) – hardly a year goes by without a scoop revealing the plight of former starlets living in squalor or sickness, left to their own devices.

Playing music is pure labour. You pack your tools, travel to the venue, set up your tools, wait around, and when it’s showtime, you make your tools work, put in the hours, sweat, and deal with the occupational hazard of human vices. All these incur costs – monetary, health, spiritual – just like any other endeavour. Tomorrow comes, and the cycle repeats.

Who says musicians don’t have a routine? They go through dry spells as well, and on a more consistent cycle at that. Did you know the average tip or fee for live bands has been pretty much the same for the past two decades or so?

Growing up, I remember reading an anecdote about a famous musician (not local), who, when asked by a reporter whether he would encourage his kids to follow in his footsteps, swiftly replied: “No.” It perplexed me then that someone like him would deny his children the same experience he’s had. But with the benefit of hindsight, I, too, would caution my kids against getting into this vocation. Yes, it’s rewarding, and yes, I wouldn’t trade it for nor change anything.

But the journey has been bittersweet, a common thing if one chooses to follow their own muse and ignore the pied piper on the beaten path. It’s not just my own ups and downs that inform my caution, but also, the lives of friends and acquaintances for whom music has been both a blessing and curse have educated me not only on the life of a muso, but more importantly, life itself.

We love songs, especially sad ones, because, well, life is sad. But sadness is informed by joy – the binary persists. Joy means nothing without its shadow, sadness. It’s the in-between where life exists – just like a song – but joys are often brief.

One of the readily available barometers to measure the maturity of a society is the collective attitude towards its musicians and artists. Malaysia, I’m sorry, but we’re still an angsty teen. We need to learn the guitar and write our own songs (add variety to or parody popular cover versions), because stories can also be sung. – July 10, 2020. 

* Azmyl Yunor is a touring underground recording artiste, and an academic in media and cultural studies. He has published articles on pop culture, subcultures and Malaysian cultural politics. He adheres to the three-chords-and-the-truth school of songwriting, and Woody Guthrie’s maxim “All you can write is what you see”. He is @azmyl on Twitter.

* This is the opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of The Malaysian Insight. Article may be edited for brevity and clarity.