Burning Out, Burning Up

Yesterday my class went to see a documentary on the New Zealand band Shihad, entitled "Beautiful Machine". I was actually pretty pumping for it, cos it looked really decent and Shihad are a band I've sort been half interested in (worthy of a few listens, but not of actually following) ever since a friend showed me the phenomenal rock anthem "Run" a few years back. Unlike some movies, it managed to live up to expectations, and was totally enjoyable, and I'd thoroughly recommend it to anyone interested in New Zealand music. We had to then write a review of the film, and here's mine just to give you a quick summary of the main events:

“Shihad – Beautiful Machine” is a film documenting the history of New Zealand band Shihad. It chronicles the bands timeline from their origins as a Wellington-based speed metal band to the present day where they headline huge arena concerts all around the world.

The storyline was told in a documentary style, and a lot of its content relied on interviews with the band, relatives of the members, and managers/record label owners who were associated with Shihad. Intercut between these were videos, both new and old, of the band playing some of their material either live or in the studio.

I found this film to be very interesting and informative as it revealed to me a great deal of the rich history of this iconic Kiwi band.  For example I wasn’t aware that they had started out playing metal, or that they had changed their name from Shihad to Pacifier to avoid negative connotations with terrorist groups (in that being the name “Shihad” sounds similar to “Jihad”).

Overall, this was a very interesting, well filmed, and at times quite personal documentary. I left the theatre not only having gained a deeper knowledge of this band and their music, but also having a greater appreciation for the amount of work these four guys have put in to furthering both their music and New Zealand music abroad. 

However, one part of the movie I forgot to mention was probably one of the rawest parts of their story. Their lead singer, John Toogood is working hard out trying to break the band into America, and freaking out at his performances, and missing his girlfriend back in New Zealand. Eventually he worked himself to the bone and has a complete breakdown. He actually had to stop playing music for a few months cause he "...hated it. Everything about it reminded [him] of the industry and how hard it was to make it, and what a flawed system it was." 

Needless to say, this struck me pretty hard. The very idea of having to exist without music is painful, but the idea of actually hating it, and not being able to play it at all is almost unbearable. It is a terrifying thought. 

Yet at the same time, it's starting to sound a bit closer to home than I had originally thought...

I'm not saying that I'm sick of playing music. Far from it. 

It's just I'm acquiring all this knowledge, all these skills, and at the moment, it seems to be getting me nowhere.
And that's what's been getting me down. 

Maybe I push it to hard. Maybe I'm too ambitious in my attempts at success. Maybe I push people away because I'm so focused on this one aspect of life.

It's just one aspect. 

Only one. 

And if I look closely enough, I can sense signs of burnout. Tiredness. Cynical attitudes. Pride. Selfishness. Constant repetition of thoughts related to music. Longing for something that is far beyond my reach. Tunes stuck in my head. Loop after endless loop of programming and generated music. Building on top of something which was never meant to be done alone. 

Music - what am I without it? 

And that's the problem. Am I anything? Do I still have worth? Do I still have a life? Dreams? Plans?

Like I've told many people, you don't want to hold onto one person, one thing so tightly that you lose your realization of everything else.

And I'm scared I'm becoming that way. 

Maybe it's time, even if it's just for a short while, that I focused on something other than this...