“Fear and Loathing in Downtown Annapolis”

The Relationship Between Local Music in Small Towns:A Study in Popular Culture

by Henry Pazaryna

Parental Advisory - Explicit Content

The usual sights and sounds of any given weekend night in Downtown Annapolis as the bars let out are truly things to behold. From the dance clubs to the live music bars, taking one step down the street can lead you into a whirlwind of nightlife with too many opportunities for a good time. Starting even before City Dock and working your way to the end of West Street shows a multitude of venues and a wide range of people, clothing, and lifestyles. The sheer amount of bars, clubs, and opportunities for experiencing live music on any given night feels endless. It’s a place where you can be who you want to be, do what you want to do, and roll however you feel like rolling.

If you have the money, of course.

My name is Henry Pazaryna, and by the time you are reading this, I will have graduated from the University of Maryland, Baltimore County, with a bachelor’s degree in Media and Communications Studies and a minor in Music. As one might begin to recognize, music has been an obvious part of my life from a very early age. After growing up in Eastport, Annapolis, and later Severna Park, Maryland, performing music for many years, I began my college career at James Madison University, only to leave in the winter of 2013 and began working. I resumed my studies at UMBC in the fall of 2014, all while spending even more time at music venues around Annapolis and the Baltimore-Washington area. Watching local acts around the area shaped my mind further, leading me to my first real job in the industry. With the opportunity to work a summer internship at Montauk Music, a local music publicity agency based out of Ellicott City, Maryland, I began a path that took me on a whirlwind of summertime adventures, traveling up and down the East Coast, covering and reviewing live shows of all sizes as well as interviewing local artists. With ample creative freedom given to me, I began discovering more and more about the city I grew up in and quite a few others, thinking about the impact that this smaller scene played in the community of both local inhabitants and the musicians that live and work there. I had known and thought about this idea already, as many involved with this kind of work and lifestyle do, but it wasn’t until I took that deeper look at everything that I had such an eye opening experience as my introduction to the music industry.

And all of it got me to thinking.

Is there some kind of bigger picture here that I am not currently seeing?

Because of that thought, I chose to research this topic: an ethnographic study of the relationship between small towns and local musicians. After learning both about the basic history of popular music, the history of Annapolis itself, and getting to know the musicians and locals out of my hometown, I was able to start piecing together one steady stream of analytical consciousness. Who affects whom here? Is this the town acting on the artists, or is this the artists building up the community of the town? Based on my historical and personal field research, I would argue that in the local industry of Annapolis, there is an existing relationship between local artists and the culture that is built on socioeconomic, historical, and geographic structures, and lacking full diversity just like the popular music industry today. Unlike the supposed correlative relationship between local artists and their communities however, small towns and the canons of local musicians still do not account for everything that encompasses the national music industry. Like

all proper discussion, local music industries need to be viewed as highly focused subjects on a broader scale that deals with the bigger picture of the American Music Industry in mind.

In order to further understand this relationship, I will begin by discussing both a brief history of Annapolis, and a basic history of popular music itself. After providing this background information, I will continue my analysis with an interview that continues a Rolling Stone magazine style incorporated into academic writing. This interview will present one single, linear statement on the history of modern music and the impact small towns play within the music industry as told through the eyes of an executive in the local and national scene. After discussing my research through the lens of famous sociologist, Pierre Bourdieu, I will finally conclude my discussion by presenting a personal analysis on the relationship between music and small towns like Annapolis, finishing with what can not only be done to navigate around this type of industry, but through this lifestyle as well.

To begin understanding the cultural, analytical, and argumentative navigation of music in smaller towns like Annapolis, one needs to understand not only the history of popular music as a whole, but the history of Annapolis itself. Founded in 1649 as an English settlement by Puritans seeking religious freedom, the city of Annapolis, formerly named Anne Arundel’s Town after the wife of Cecil Calvert, the Second Baron Baltimore and first governor of Maryland, was renamed by Sir Francis Nicholson, Royal Governor, after Princess Anne, the Queen of England in 1702. Leading political, cultural, and economic climates in the American Colonies during the 1700’s, Annapolis grew, eventually taking part in activities surrounding the American Revolution, like the ratification of the Treaty of Paris, ending the American Revolution in 1784, in the Maryland State House. Economically growing after the Civil War with the expansion of waterfront activities such as boating, fishing, and destination tourism, the workforce was boosted, allowing Annapolis to establish itself as a significant economy.

Along with the years of waterfront economics, the city of Annapolis played a large part in the historical significance of African Americans in the United States, with the slave trade and treatment of slaves also playing a large role in the connection of early historical life in Annapolis. Famous African Americans such as Alex Haley, author of “Roots,” Thurgood Marshall, the first African American Supreme Court Justice and lawyer who argued for the end of segregation in the landmark case, Brown v. Board of Education, as well as Frederick Douglass and Benjamin Banneker, key architects of Washington, are honored throughout the city with memorials, statues, and museums, giving light to the issues of racial inequality and those that fought to progress society in the United States.

Today, Annapolis appears to be primarily shaped by the tourism it attracts and the educational institutions that inhabit the city limits, all while providing homes to those working in local industries and can afford the property. Allowing access for those who attend the United States Naval Academy, St. John’s College, and many other local schools and walks of life, Annapolis presents a wide selection of shopping, dining, and entertainment venues, sustaining both the local and out of town markets. A person can find themselves in the middle of all of this, and at any given point, adding to the allure of Annapolis and life associated with it.

To further understand the relationship between music and culture in Annapolis, one also needs a clear understanding (or refresher course, depending on the person) of the history of popular music in the United States, and by extension, the world. Beginning in the early 20th century with the Minstrel Show and Tin Pan Alley, the landscape of music traveled all the way from the Jazz Age nightclubs, to the Blues Age delta swamp and early recordings. Moving to Big Band Swing and the birth of popular Rock and Roll in the post World War II society with Elvis Presley, the genesis of American Pop and the British Invasion groups like the Beatles began to modernize the airwaves, pushing the industry even further than before. Following that, the birth of popular counterculture seen through folk and rock in the 1960’s gave way to the “Golden Era” of the 1970’s rock bands across a variety of ethnicities and styles. This explosion of the happy medium of creativity and popularity lead right into the MTV Era of the 1980’s, and the Grunge and Hip Hop return to counterculture and diversification of popular music of the 1990’s. Since the turn of the century, we have entered a digital age, with the advent of streaming music in full swing in 2016. This progression, while extremely broad, cuts across many different artists, from Elvis, to the Beatles, to Led Zeppelin, Michael Jackson, Nirvana, and more.

With this understanding of both musical and local history, I would like to start to place together a timeline of music in Annapolis. I believe that Annapolis itself acts as a microcosm of popular culture, just with the sheer amount of musical groups appearing on any given night. The opportunities for a wide variety of genres and groups are seemingly endless. From deejays on Main Street to live bands on West Street, there are many opportunities to view such a variety of performers, that a person does not have enough time to see everything in one night. Much like popular culture as well, there are the groups and performers that are considered to shape the overall musical scene, and have more staying power than others. Learning about the relationship between culture and music also requires background knowledge on the different groups, much like the history of Annapolis and history of music. With the musical landscape being personified by three different artists and groups, a casual observer would be hard pressed to find artists more popular across generations of live acts than Dean Rosenthal, Jimi “Haha” Davies of Jimmie's Chicken Shack, and Brandon Hardesty of the Bumpin’ Uglies. Each of these artists represent what I believe to be the most popular genres from the long past, recent past, and immediate present of music in Annapolis, with enough fans across a range of ages to enjoy them.

Dean Rosenthal, a local bluesman and progenitor of popular local acts in Annapolis, begins this timeline. Cutting his teeth in the middle to late 1970’s, based in Annapolis and playing all around the DMV area, including Baltimore and Washington D.C., Rosenthal leads what I believe to be the oldest generation of popular music lovers in Annapolis. With his style primarily focusing the most on blues and folk music all the way from artists like Robert Johnson to Bob Dylan, Dean has built one of the biggest followings in town. Following Dean in historical relation and building on his local popularity is Jimi Davies, known professionally as Jimi Haha of Jimmie's Chicken Shack. Jimi embodies the change from late 70’s and early 80’s to the MTV era of the late 80’s and 90’s; moving from more than creativity, and beginning the steps into using the industry to advance locally and nationally. A sharp turn from pure blues and folk music, Jimi and his band fronted all of the most well known local venues in Annapolis and beyond at the time, as well as moving through Baltimore, and eventually taking on national success. Playing upbeat, danceable, 90’s rock, Jimi was able to carve out a new breed of musicians in Annapolis - ones that wrote many of their own songs, and had the talent, drive, and luck to make it big. I believe

that Brandon Hardesty of the Bumpin’ Uglies represents that new breed of musicians that builds on the success of guys like Jimi, while also personifying the change in music history at the same time. Playing surf-reggae music inspired by the California band, Sublime, and acting as one of the most popular local groups around today, Brandon and the Bumpin’ Uglies represent this change in industry better than anyone else - building on the successes of history all while carving out new niches and popularity for mainstream audiences.

Not only did each of these artists begin their musical careers in Annapolis, toured around other cities, and still reside in the greater Annapolis area today, they represent the same kind of historical progression of music as we know it, albeit more highly focused for a smaller landscape of industry. From the folk, blues, and rock era of the 1970’s, to the MTV era of the 80’s and 90’s, and moving into the landscape of the digital age, beginning at the turn of this century, each group not only fits in to each of these cultural styles, but they act as representations of the broadest timeline for popular music in Annapolis and the United States. As both an Annapolitan and someone researching the musical community, I was beginning to see an influence of the culture of both small towns and how the history of the music industry was reflected through these people. I still felt the need to explore further and gain different insight on the musical culture of Annapolis from a knowledgeable, outside source, however. This source came in the form of Jeff Schad, owner of Montauk Music, a local music publicity agency, and one time boss and mentor. Jeff, a New Yorker who relocated to Ellicott City, works with clients across a wide range of age and location, focusing on publicity, marketing, press coverage, imaging services and social media design. In the same spirit of a Rolling Stone interview, I was able to reach out and talk to Jeff in order to learn more about the history of popular music and piece it together with the culture of music in Annapolis.

March 4, 2016

HP: All right. This is March Eleventh and it's Henry Pazaryna talking to Jeff Schad of Montauk Music. So Jeff, to start out. Tell me a little bit about yourself. What’s your relationship with music, and what kind of memories do you have from your own life? Just a little background information.

JS: Sure thing. I grew up in New York, and I got into music, probably when I was about… you know, like anybody does, that twelve to fifteen year old range where you really get interested. For me, it was real simple. It was my what my sister liked at the time. And it was actually a cool period of music - it was the early 80's. So with that time, you had MTV come on cable. The music video became a thing. Rap and hip hop became a thing. It's was kind of like a heyday for music because of that. Whereas it always was, now it was like more of a national thing, where you tune in and everybody knew Michael Jackson. Everybody knew Sugar Hill Gang. Everybody knew Devo. And it was, everybody would know Michael Jackson anyway, but by and large it was because you can turn on the T.V. and see what the latest and greatest was. From there, I liked a lot of different stuff, but I would say I actually got into to rap and hip hop, because that’s what my sister was into.

HP: Where you East Coast or West Coast?

JS: You see, it was different back then. It wasn't divided that way as much. Like, Sugar Hill Gang was in your city… I'm trying to think of the older rap… I wanted to jam on it, but I’m not going to remember the names now. I’m too old for it (chuckles). It was more like what's hitting the airwaves and what's hitting MTV at that time is what you're going to get into, and/or having an older sister that would go to high school parties, and you have guys break dancing there. She would come home and say, “Hey, let's listen to this. Put that on.” So I was really heavy on hip hop back in the day, and kind of stayed that way until probably the late 80's, or early 90's or so. I went through N.W.A., Public Enemy, so much stuff that I’m completely forgetting right now. If I could go back and look it up, I'd remember all the bands. I didn't even realize then, living in New York, that I was in an epicenter of where the music takes place. Where there's an entire industry devoted to it. And then, I would probably say it was like Pearl Jam, it was like Nirvana, it was that whole Seattle Grunge movement. I don't know why, but I went and bought a Pearl Jam album. And it shifted my focus from Hip Hop and all that stuff, and it was more like poppy stuff, as well too. All about the grunge, all about the rock. And then, we also had, and this is actually important for us, we had a radio station, W… I think it was DAD, it doesn’t matter. But it was like H.F.S. was here. That's what it was in New York. It was a station that would play alternative stuff and other songs that were never going to get aired anywhere else. And that was the only reason to tune in at that point, because I sort of just wanted to explore once I found my own interest in music. Then I just started exploring there. And most of what you would probably call indie rock now, even though it wasn't indie rock. It was more underground, if you will. Today it's a whole different thing, where everybody's got their own little secrets, and everybody's got their own little bands that they know, that nobody else knows, that are the best. Back then, if you found a gem, you found a real gem. You had to dig deep. It wasn’t just Facebook, and even MySpace, or anything like that. You had to find these bands, and the way to do that was to listen to the cool radio station. It was your cool friend, who went to the store, and dug through all the vinyl and all that stuff. It was like Tower Records. Do you know Tower Records?

HP: Of course.

JS: There was the listening station, and they would go to the listening stations and stand there like four or five hours, just listening to everything new that came out. They would be like, “Dude, this is cool. Check this out.” And that was how you find stuff, you know? For example, Jane's Addiction would be out. I have a got a good friend who’s my best friend to this day, and he’s responsible for taking that new direction I was going in and leading me down that path. He might introduce me to friends that would say, “Here's where you find cool, new stuff,” or, “Here's what I'm listening to, and you should check it out.”

So now we're at stage two. We’ve gone through hip hop, and now we are into the rock and grunge thing. Through my exploring and being open to different styles of music, all different sounds, I started surfing at fifteen years old, and surf videos came into my life. And surf videos changed the paradigm, because if I thought I was finding that cool, new and uncovered stuff, the guys who made surf videos, who were out in California, were finding even more. And they were putting it on their videos. So you go into the surf shop, you get a new video, pop it in, that not only did you have sixty or ninety minutes of the hottest surfing action, but you had sixty to ninety minutes of really cool music that you never heard before. It's almost guaranteed you are

not going to hear some shit from the radio on there. That's where I found Sublime. And honestly, finding Sublime, in retrospect, I can easily say that changed the course of my musical life. For a lot of different reasons. That was in ’92, or ’93, when I found Sublime. It was through a Rusty surf video, Rusty is a surfboard shaper, and I went to the record store, probably the next day. That's usually what I used to do. I'd hear something new, I’d go to the record store the next day. We had a great record stores in Huntington, New York, where I grew up, and I would find the record that I wanted and I would buy it. Just from hearing one song, I would say, “That's cool, I want it, I have to get it.” I went and got the Sublime tape, played out, played and played it. My sister, she played and played, and we were like, “What is this? It's not reggae, it's not ska, it’s not hip hop, it's not funk, rock, or punk. It’s all those things.” But holy shit does it flow. It flows from start to finish. That's a totally different approach. And it also sounds like they made it in their garage, and they did. It’s a cool, home grown sound, in which everything up to that point, before indie bands, everything was produced by a label, professional and polished and all that, and this was a different approach. It was cool. Once I found Sublime, that’s when I started going to live shows. And having New York City in my backyard, it was excellent. You hop on the train, forty minutes later, you're in New York City. You’ve either got your tickets, or you’re buying them right there. You go out for a few drinks beforehand, get a pre game on, go to the show, have a great time. Go out for a few drinks after the show, and roll home on the train, having an incredible experience. Every night it was something special. That actually started with my first show, it was Sublime, two months before Bradley died. It was with my sister, and I met Sublime, I met the band, and after that, I kept my music exploration at that point. But I started going to all different shows. There was Sublime, it was… I’m trying to remember. It’s funny, because people are always like, “How did you get into these different styles of music all at once?” And I just did because I love everything. But it was not only like the surf-y, reggae, ska, punk stuff, it was more like hardcore punk and metal. So I just started going to the pennywise shows, when they came through town. H20 was a New York punk band that we used to go see. Quicksand was a New York hardcore band that we would used to go see. Orange 9 Millimeter too. And so, basically at that point, my focus changed from MTV, my sister, all the things that are influencing me from the outside, to what I’m finding personally, and getting into the New York local scene. It really became: every show I was at, it had a New York connection to it. And that was cool. That was 1996 when we went to that show, and at that point, I was going to 40 or 50 shows a year, at least. That was a focal point of my life. College, after college, everything. Going to shows and being involved in music, just as a fan, just as somebody who loved it and immersed themselves in it and took something from it every time they went, that’s what it was for me. I was totally devoted, without being a musician. It was as important as anything else in my life, whether it be surfing, family, baseball, all the things that you hold dear to yourself, music was in there. That’s a long story for a short question.

HP: No worries. On the back end of it, that change that you went through, going from popular MTV in the 1980’s to discovering more for yourself - do you think that’s representative of popular culture, or is that you being in “the know,” and developing your own way of doing things?

JS: It definitely was more representative of pop culture, because I felt kind of like a dork when it came to music. That’s why I wanted to be the guy to find the new thing, or something cool, because I felt like the cool kids were the ones that found that stuff. Honestly, I guess I found Sublime for my circle of friends, my sister, and all that, but until that, I felt like I was always the

one that was chasing, you know? I thought, “I want to be the cool kid that’s sitting there and discovering.” But I’m playing baseball, and I’m doing my stuff, and I don’t get to go to Tower Records and just sit there for five hours. My mom would be like, “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you a degenerate?” (laughs). So I would leave it up to other people. And at that point, it changed. So honestly, it was more pop culture, not just me being the ferret that would go find the music, as much as I wanted to.

HP: So what do you think about everything going on today? What has changed for you? Just thinking about technology and the whole explosion of streaming music, is it really that different?

JS: Oh, it’s night and day different. It is night and day different from what it used to be. The good thing is, and I don’t mean to jump ahead here, but if it was twenty years ago, I wouldn’t be able to do what I do now, independently. I wouldn’t be able to be a music publicist, a marketing person, independently start my own company, fly my own flag and do it. I would have to be with a label if it was twenty years ago. That’s just the personal side of the story. From a fan standpoint, a public at large standpoint, it’s totally changed. Where you find your music now comes down to: who do you hang out with, who is your influence? I think it’s probably the same paradigm - who are your influential friends, who is in the know. But there are so many different sources to go find music, and find new things. If I found a band or two a year, I thought that was success. Now, I can find a band or two in five minutes on Google, or on Facebook, or on my Instagram, or in Twitter, or whatever. It went from what you would call an established industry, where the big guys control 99.5 percent of everything, and the independent people and the small people controlled that other half percent, to the big guys are hurting because they are dumb and don’t change their business models. But that opens up the opportunity for all these other bands. And that doesn’t mean that more bands do well, it just means that there are more opportunities, because people are willing to open their eyes, open their ears, and listen in more places. There are more avenues to do that now.

HP: So on that topic, one of the big things I am writing about is local music and how it affects local culture. What do you know about the city of Annapolis, and how long have you been in the business area yourself? What do you know about music in Annapolis, both social and culture?

JS: I’ll get to Annapolis in a second, but I moved here eleven years ago, actually twelve years ago now, and when I moved here, I was excited because I wanted to get into the D.C. music scene. D.C., historically, had a very strong music scene up through the 80’s and the 90’s, groundbreaking stuff, controversial even, in a lot of ways, and paradigm changes. And that was cool to me. That was really cool. I knew about HFS, long before I moved here. Like ten years before I moved here. And then I was shocked to find that when I moved here, started going to shows at the 9:30 Club and other places in D.C., that the scene was slowly disintegrating, in a sense, almost completely disintegrated. So that’s D.C. That said, I thought moving here, D.C. would have a music scene, and I could find some stuff in other places, but what I actually found is that Baltimore, Annapolis, and even this area right here, Ellicott City and Catonsville, they’ve got their own little enclaves. They’ve got their own little scenes, and they are thriving like mad. And that was totally not what I was expecting. But I think that it’s a really good snapshot of what’s happening in music today - this area. Annapolis, I had no notion of it, I had no preconception of it before I moved here. But, I will tell you that starting a music company, now six years ago, my first clients that were not introduced to me by my friends, that I went and

found myself, they were from Annapolis. And they are hungry. They are focused. They had that “it,” that make it factor, that you don’t find that often, and I found that it was a common thread between Annapolis bands. They dig in there, they take it seriously, and it’s their profession. And they will do anything for their music. And that to me, on a musician side, that is what creating a scene is all about. Just a musician’s side, and we will get into all the other components of it. It’s showing that if you have a hometown that you can go out and play, and you can be respected for putting all that effort and working in your local town, that’s what starts to build a scene. Annapolis to me is a cool little place, but the thing that makes me laugh is that we are so provincial here, we are so divided. It’s like, Annapolis is it’s own little scene, right here is it’s own little scene, Baltimore is it’s own little scene, and there is no reason why they can’t mesh to become a bigger, powerful type of scene. The kind of thing that media covered - what’s going on in that little area there? It doesn’t have to be the twenty square miles in Baltimore, the ten square miles in Annapolis. It can be this whole area. With that said, Annapolis is thriving. People that love music probably know it and see it as East Coasters do, as West Coasters are into their own thing, but it’s a perfect little snapshot of what a musical community should be about.

HP: One thing that I do talk to with people that both live, and people that do not live in Annapolis, is the social culture. I’m talking in a pure sense, not just music. People that live there, the economic class that they are in, how they act, and all of that. I get a very wide range of people saying they really like it, and people saying they really don’t like that more “snooty” air. There is money there, but it is a weird divide between money and the boating communities, but also the projects in the middle and outside the city. Do you think that it makes an impact on the musical culture, or do think that makes an impact on the overall culture there? Is that anything that you’ve ever thought about yourself, or heard anyone talk about?

JS: Yeah, absolutely. I think it makes an impact in some sense. You’ve got two different groups of people, right? And they do interplay. But the two different groups of people in the town, and this is a very simplified view of what you are talking about, in a town where you have that, the “yachties" and the money, the people that can roll, they are going to go out and support arts, right? So, if they live in a place like Annapolis, where there is plenty of music, that is just a fortunate marriage of people with income and a good scene. The people that are maybe not as well off, but they are totally into the scene, it almost works in a funny way, where, maybe they don’t like those people, maybe they don’t see them as integral to the scene, but if they support the local economy and support the local arts, then the people that are like “fuck those people,” they are going to see the benefit of that, if the people that are more well off do support the arts. If they are attached to this scene, right? And it’s the people that are working their asses off, a good example, if I can name bands here, are the Bumpin’ Uglies. Brandon (Hardesty, the frontman) doesn’t have a lot of money, but he works his ass off. I put him in the category of “not a yachtie.” He’s not the “I’ve got a great house and a lot of money,” but he feeds the local scene. He makes it happen. He drives it in his own way, with Bumpin’ Uglies. The Cheaters, who I’ve worked with - I don’t know their parents background, but I can tell you that their work ethic is there. I don’t think having that divide detracts from the scene. I think that it supports it, if those people go out and embrace the shows that are in their town, which by and large are local artists.

HP: So how do you define local artists? How do you define local music? And do you think that local music is as important as the big things that you were listening to, back when you were growing up? What are your thoughts on that?

JS: A local artist, to me, is anybody that plays the majority of their shows, or spends the majority of their time, in one area. They are not nationally touring. I mean, it can still be like a number of things. If you are from Annapolis and you have Jimi Haha, when he was out on tour with Jimmie's Chicken Shack, he still is still a local musician. That never stopped. He goes home, and he still is a part of that community. He is still a part of making that scene happen. Whether he is contributing to it as much or not is another story. To me, a local musician is somebody that no matter how big they get, or how successful they get, they always remember where they came from and always want to go play shows from where they came from. It doesn’t have to be “born there, raised there,” but if you are a musician, and you move, let’s say you’re from here and you move to Memphis, Tennessee, you can become part of that scene. But you have to embrace it. You have to be out there all the time, networking, making friends, making good shows, going out and gigging. So, a local musician is somebody who becomes a part of a scene, or grows into a part of the scene, and never, ever… I’m trying to think of a good example. Because it happens less and less these days with labels, because there are less labels. Here you go - the Charm City Devils. To me, and I don’t know if you know them, the only thing that they have to do with Baltimore any more is their name. If your thing is to chase the dream, and that’s what you're about, and you want to get a deal, go make it in a bigger city, and it’s all about making bigger shows, making a record and selling it, this and that, and not going out and doing the hard miles to do the shows that don’t pay you a lot, but they get you that local draw and local interest - if you’re all about making it bigger, you’re not a local artist. Here is a perfect example: when I sign up an artist, and I’m going to put out a press release, I want to say that they are from a city. Baltimore, D.C., it doesn’t matter what city it is, just whatever closest city. Because if you send it to people in Austin, Texas, you can’t say they’re from Annapolis, or that they are from Ellicott City. You have to say they are from Baltimore or D.C., right? I just signed up an artist from Rockville. Not that Rockville has a scene, because it doesn’t, I would say, “You are from D.C.” and they would say, “No, I’m from Rockville.” And I would say, “Exactly. You are from Rockville, and that is where your pride is, that’s where your home is.” Now, if it was from Annapolis, I would say “wear that with pride.” But, you have to say you are from a city. I want to see a local artist revert to that “Annapolis pride, baby.” Brandon is all about that. He’ll wear Annapolis on his sleeve, all day long.

HP: Gotcha. So, with that idea of pride and how it builds into national recognition, do you think that there is a serious relationship between local music and the popular music industry? And is this something that really just happens only in America, this kind of relationship, if there is any?

JS: I think it is uniquely American. And actually, it’s funny because everything I said in my early answers kind of go against this. But that said, I do think America is a unique place, because you go back to earlier in the 1900’s, with the blues, with jazz, even hip hop, with all these different types of styles and genres of music. They really came up through a local type of flavor. If you were in Greenville, Mississippi, you could be in New York, that was where hip hop was born, you were walking down the street and you hear things. That’s why I really loved hip hop early on, because when I was a kid, in my formative years, when I was going to work with my dad, he worked in Manhattan, we would be walking down the streets seeing guys free styling on the sidewalk. That to me was awesome. That was just pure freedom and joy, and something new that I had never seen before. It was an expression that was brand new. I saw that firsthand. And that, to me, was New York. I think it’s uniquely American, and I think that it’s something that has really never left us completely, and it probably never will. Where you can tie a strong

community feeling into a strong artistic feeling and output, you’ve got a music scene. It’s kind of like that thing about Mississippi in the blues era. I think about New Orleans in the jazz era. L.A. in the rock era. Or New York in the hip hop era. Whatever you want to be, whatever you want to pinpoint. Of course, the dynamics of each one changes over time. New York is different now, L.A. is different. That’s natural. New York probably has fifty different scenes now, depending on what neighborhood you are in, or what place you are going to. It’s definitely a uniquely, American thing. I don’t think that there is a direct relationship between that and the bigger music scene necessarily, like the labels and all of the stuff like that, because the purposes of each are different. Somebody wants to get signed by a label, because they want to go out and make a huge career out of themselves, and be able to make a ton of money. Somebody is a local musician because that’s where they are from, that’s what they write about, sing about, and that’s the people they know, and that feels good. That always feels good. It’s home. And as they say, home is where the heart is, not to throw a cliche in there. But seriously, that it’s it. I don’t know how it is in other parts of the world. It’s similar in ways, but I can tell you for sure that I know Australian music well, and Australian music is, “if it’s fucking Australian, it’s great” (chuckles). If you are from Australia, and your band is good, you are selling. That’s Australia. There are 17 million people. But guess what - L.A. has 17 million people.

HP: Moving away from the industry side - at what point do you think that art, artistic value, and all the merit it brings, fits into this kind of discussion? How much does the economic impact, just thinking about the industry, how much does that play into cultivating artistic talent, locally, to your knowledge?

JS: The industry doesn’t have too much influence any more, honestly. There are so few companies and people leading and giving influence to up and coming bands. It’s a free for all. I think bands now are very much more tied into their local scene. The paradigm isn't “sound and look uber talented, if you got the right package.” It’s built from the grassroots up. To me, it’s refreshing now, because it levels the playing field, and of course, in a local, community music scene, you are going to have good, okay, and bad artist that you see. It’s like anything else. The best ones keep drawing people, and they are the ones that people get to know, they are the ones that people want to go see, time and time again, and that they talk about in their community. They are the talented ones, that make a scene. It hasn’t really changed, other than anyone can go out there and try to do it now, and make an impact in their own way, if they work hard enough. But if you don’t have the talent, you are still not going to make it. You know what I mean?

HP: Yeah. Thinking about talent, and how there is, at least from what I see, people who are ultra talented, and then people who are just locals, trying to get in there, who might not be that good, do you have any concerns about the atmosphere of local industry? And do you think that the balance between ultra talented and not affects the culture and the music itself?

JS: That’s an interesting question.

HP: I’ll preface any answer you have, just to give more insight into what I’m thinking about. Going to Annapolis itself, and I can’t speak on the behalf of all local towns across America, it seems like every show I’ve been to has always been two or three not bad, but just kind of mediocre, solid bands, followed by someone who is local, and can fill a room, like the Bumpin’ Uglies. While they do a great job, it seems like it’s just the same thing that I see, every night. It

makes me not question the integrity of local music or the local music culture in any way, but it does make me think that “These are the only groups that are thriving.” What do you think this is? How can I analyze this?

JS: Considering what you just said, I think that a local music scene is just a smaller version now of what the industry used to look like, right? There is going to be a very few, small, select sect of very talented bands that can endure. That you want to go listen to. That when they write a new album, there is going to be something really good there. And then there is a lot of mediocre shit. And then there is a lot of bad stuff. It’s just shrunken down to a smaller level. That said, I think people are realizing now that local music is where you get to see that one band that’s going to make it, and cheer them on. Believe me, before the internet, and before the industry totally changed, I went to plenty of shows where I saw really shitty bands. And these were shows where you paid good money to get in, it was at a proper venue in New York, and you were like, “Really? You guys kind of suck.” I don’t think being local has changed that. I don’t think the way the industry has changed, has changed that. I just think you see it on a different level now. If you are in New York, say, 1995, you can go through and find a marquee show, that is awesome. If it’s a local band, probably not. But, when you shrink it down to the local level, you are only going to have so many talented bands coming through the area. That said, if you really hunt in Annapolis, you can probably see a pretty talented musician almost every night of the week. I guess the point is that the opening bands are opening bands for a reason. Until they can prove otherwise. And that hasn’t changed. You know what I mean?

HP: Going off of that, and just to play devil’s advocate, do you think there are any negative aspects to the culture of local music? So many people that I have talked to, you included, have been so overwhelmingly positive towards what they feel and what they see, but do you think there are any not good aspects that exist and are not being addressed?

JS: Sure. You have politics, you have personal agendas, you have shit talking, you have one artist believing that they deserve a bigger slice of the perceived pie than another, you have ego. There are a lot of things that come into play there. Yes, I do think there are negative sides to it, but it’s nothing different from anything else. Look at athletics. The local football star who thinks he is the best, but then the guy who maybe wasn’t as talented, but put more work in and was able to get just as good of a scholarship to school, and the bigger star think’s it’s bullshit. Well, you know what? If they did the work to get there, how do they not earn it? It’s kind of the same thing in local music, and you see it a lot, especially locally. And that is one of the things that upsets me. Maybe I am not a musician, and maybe I am not a competitive athlete any more, I removed myself from that aspect of things, but at the end of the day, I feel like if the scene is supportive of the people that are coming through it, then those people should also be appreciative back to the scene. And when I say the scene, that is a nebula statement, but a scene is where a lot of things come together. There are a lot of constituents that come together. Like, the clubs, and that is one of the things I wanted to get into. If the clubs, venues, and bars where the artists play, if the regulars there are the local people that truly love local music and nothing but, like in Annapolis, you have those ten or twenty people that love local music, and that is all they love, to these club, bar, and venue owners and managers, and people that are involved in the industry, like Paul Reed Smith, and myself, and people that are involved outside the industry of playing music, they are what make up a scene. It’s kind of funny to me to see it. If I was a musician, and I had a scene to go to, where people were, no matter what, I knew a good portion of my room is going to love

what I am doing and respect me, I would never talk bad about another band or artist. I would prop them up, and this is one thing I have never understood. I guess maybe I’m not cut that way. I would try to prop them up, and be like “This is our scene. This is our town. The more that we are prominent, all together, the more it raises all of our ships up.” That’s not the prevalent attitude though, from everything I think of. It probably speaks more to human nature though, and also maybe the ‘big fish, small pond’ kind of thing. Everyone wants to be that big fish, and if they don’t feel like that big fish, then they feel like they are trying to do something to become that big fish. One of those things is to trash other musicians (chuckles). And I see plenty of that (laughs).

HP: Just for some closing statements - as someone who has come in from an outside source, are you happy with what you have seen? Looking at some of these guys that you have not only seen, but that you have worked with, in the grand scheme of things, is it worth it doing this? Do you think that a local industry could amount to something, or do you think that if you are trying to present artistic expression, is it worth just trying to go the distance, hitting a big industry, and either striking out, or being that one lucky one out of a million and going for it?

JS: It is worth it, because if you can work hard and make your mark in one area, you can springboard from that. You can use that as a launchpad as winning over people in other areas. But, I do think that where you used to have national aspirations, it’s a lot harder for the artist to know that the chances of playing the show in your local venue, like the Whiskey, before they shut it down. If you played there three years ago, you weren’t going to have an A & R agent from Capitol Records show up to check you out. It just doesn’t happen any more. The benefits to the artist aren’t as great, to be frank with you. There was a famous Red Sox player, he is in the Hall of Fame. My dad played against him as he grew up. He would go and play for the Red Sox, and then he would come home and play pickup games around the neighborhood. That to him was just fun. If an artist only has that local community to go out to and be known, they are so limited there. And a lot of artists are fitting that mold today. It’s like they don’t know or don’t understand how to break through that. They feel loved in their own community, people know who they are, they are known entities, and I see a lot of artists these days stuck in that rut. “People around here know me, and I’m a local artist, and this and that.” It doesn’t mean that you have to leave your community behind, leave your scene, but if you can grow from that and long for it, then you are going to be better off. What it has done though, for the positive, for the music fan, is if you want to hear different stuff, if you want to hear new stuff, it’s out there. You can go see it. You can go listen to it. And like you said, you can go out to shows, you feel like it’s the same thing, time and time again. But when you see that local band that’s killing it, they are a big part of what I’ve talked about, in what makes the scene. They are a big part of what makes the scene go. I wanted to get into talking about what makes the scene go, because I think that’s very important. It’s a number of different things, and having those killer bands are a part of it. I guarantee you, without a Jimmie's Chicken Shack, without some of the other artists you interviewed for my blog, Annapolis wouldn’t even have a scene. It starts there. It starts with people that are excellent, given the people that maybe aren’t excellent, but have a dream, that chance that says, “If they did it from here, I can do it from here.” I think that’s the genesis of it. That’s where everything starts. That local, “If they did it, I can do it.”

HP: Not to sound totally cliche, but listening to you talk about that makes me think of the American dream. Starting small and working your way to the top.

JS: It is like that. Just to talk in general, I never would have thought that I would be able to start a company in the music industry, and it’s only because of the changes that have happened. All this fraction in the music industry, in the labels, and in the established businesses. If they still had a stranglehold on it, I would have to be in New York and L.A., where I wouldn’t have a dream of doing what I do. From a personal standpoint, it’s a great thing. But, it also makes it harder, because you have to try to take these artists that think they are all good enough to conquer the world, but they have to prove it. They have to take the steps to do that. If people at home love them, then how come people fifty miles down the road don’t love them? That’s where it gets interesting, because each scene is so uniquely different. Here is a perfect example - Brooklyn. Brooklyn, 25 years ago, was hip hop. Beastie Boys kind of stuff. But it’s like indie rock now.

HP: It’s like hipsters and all that.

JS: It’s all hipster shit. It’s totally changed. Scenes change, times change. But, if you don’t feel like you are from an area, and you’re the shit, you have to figure out how to take that, and go to the next town over, the next scene over, and go impress people there. And honestly, it comes down to one fuckin’ word: authentic. Are you authentic? Do you live what you are singing and playing about? And that doesn’t mean that people like the Bumpin’ Uglies are going out and getting stupid every night, but they live their music. They are all about it. That is their life. They wake up in the morning and say, “Where are we playing tonight? How are we going to get the fans there? How are we going to make fans love us there?” It doesn’t matter if they are in Colorado Springs or Spokane, Washington, or even Annapolis. They are going to go find one hundred, one hundred and fifty people, get them excited, and get them turned on about the band. It’s up to the bands these days. It’s totally changed.

HP: That’s a really nice way to wrap things up. Do you have any more conclusive thoughts about what we have been chatting about? Any final statements that you want to say?

JS: Sure. First of all, I’m really glad that we as a nation have what we can call music scenes, and that they are that important to our communities. To what you and I know as live music, and the experiences that we have. Again, it goes back to me and my own identity, with getting interested in music, and getting into shows. It became who I was. Back to my early 20’s, when I made a friend who was in a touring band, and I got to meet the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Snoop Dogg, and all of these people, you realize that they came from their own little scenes. I like the Red Hot Chili Peppers, they are the L.A. band now, Snoop Dogg from Long Beach, these other guys were from Raleigh at the time, and they are a good example. They came up in Raleigh at a time when there was a good venue in town, there were one or two bands that had been signed to a label at that time, and they were kind of like the hopefuls, saying, “Let’s come up on our local scene and go out from there.” They were a stellar example to me of this bridge of times changing, and that it’s apropos that they were the band that I was running with at the time, and seeing the changes happen too. They owned their home town. I mean, owned it. Owned it. You would go to the local venue, which wasn’t huge, it held 850, 900 people, they would sell it out every time, and they played their every five or six months, and it was the party of that half of the year. And people would buzz about it. They would want them on the air. They would walk into a store where they saw the guys hanging out, and they would say, “Oh my god! It’s Squeeze Boy! Blah, blah, blah!” Just that one band created such a local buzz and brought so many people together, it was like, “What else is going on out there? Because they probably have musician friends, and

they got their own things going on.” Maybe those other bands or friends aren’t drawing a lot of people, but they are drawing 100, 150 people, and people just get engaged more with it. To wrap this up, I am grateful for the changes in the music industry, just because I think the playing field is leveled. That doesn’t mean it’s easier for musicians, it’s harder, but more of them have a chance. And it’s all about what they do from there. Being a strong, integral, caring part of your scene and your community is very important to a musician. It is very important. It’s actually one of the first things I talk to bands about, winning over your local scene. Because if you can do that, you can take that from there and extend it. Now, it’s not going to be easy, but you can extend it, because you’ve done it before. It’s great for the fan, because for me, I like to go out and see different stuff. And if I’m in my hometown, and it sucks, I can leave and go home. All in all, there is nothing that can replace local scenes in the United States, and I don’t think anything ever will. And while they change over time, if you are lucky and fortunate to be a part of one, I think you as a music fan, or as a band, or as a professional person, you can appreciate what that brings. Think about Annapolis without having all the cool stuff you can go out and see. Sometimes you see shitty bands. That’s what Bradley (Nowell) from Sublime said in that one song. Garden Grove. “Sitting through a shitty band.” It’s part of the experience, you know? Otherwise, you could be sitting in somewhere like Des Moines, Iowa, where they don’t have a scene, and I know that, because I work all the markets in America, and you would just be hoping and praying that somebody good came to town. Think about that. Think about having one venue in your town, where if the national acts, or the acts you want to see don’t come through, you are sitting at home, not going to a show. Local scenes are important, and I think they actually help, as we talked about early on, they help bring together the different socioeconomic groups, and obviously, they bring culture to a town and to an area. And they give it an identity as well. That to me is important.

While Jeff’s interview sheds a very important light on a singular timeline of the history of music through a personal perspective, as well an outside perspective of Annapolis through an executive force in the music industry itself, the interview, my fieldwork, and historical research still raised one very important question to me:

What does all of this still mean though?

Using my observations, I saw a very apparent historical and cultural relationship between art and people that support it when I thought about popular music as a whole, as well as how the different cultural and economic markets of both artists and people interact with each other. Just from poking around downtown, I was able to look at the different venues where people eat, drink, and play music, thinking about this relationship and the actions between those on and off the stage. Learning about the history of music in Annapolis from local musicians and even getting a wider perspective on the history of popular music as a whole enlightened my ideas of the nature of this relationship even further. Because of that relationship, the immediate analytical thought that came into my mind was that of a dialectical relationship between popular and underground music, and how it is physically represented in Annapolis.

With ideas made apparent to me by Karl Marx, a 20th century German philosopher, I was able to understand his identification of the relationship between sociological structures using geography. Annapolis, is geographically broken up by two different streets: Main Street and West Street. Main Street, much like the title suggests, acts as one of the central vantage points for life in Annapolis. Stretching from City Dock all the way up to St. Anne’s Episcopal Church, Main Street not only portrays itself as the “featured” image of Annapolis in magazines, postcards, and the minds of tourists, but it also presents a wide range of shopping, eating, drinking, and entertainment opportunities for people in the town. West Street, while still featuring, establishing, and promoting the same kinds of shops, restaurants, and bars, has a much different atmosphere. Represented by more instances of local art and a broader foundation of artistic and musical culture, the air feels like it runs a little differently from the top of the hill to the bottom of the dock. On weekend nights, where the overwhelming majority of live music gets to be most popular pastime, one can walk up and down both streets, taking in different elements of both forms of Annapolitan culture.

The distinct change between venue, style of music played, and socioeconomic characteristics of the audience members, led me to immediately think about the dialectical nature of the town, and the music industry in general, as influenced by Marx. Just one night in Annapolis clearly shows two different groups of people and cultures, at two different physical places in town. I felt my job as an ethnographer came to a swift and all too easy end after identifying and narrating this relationship between the two streets, representing how music takes the shape of the area it exists in, with what is popular and what is underground depending on the physical location. This geographic nature was one of the easiest to relate to music in Annapolis, as an important part of the landscape of popular music in America is based around geography, the unique sounds that come from places, and the interaction of different artists from with new physical markets and the people that exist in the culture around them.

While that line of thought was able to paint a general and easy to understand picture of the geographic influence on the presence of music in Annapolis and the general music industry to me, I believe that a more illuminating and efficient analysis of this cultural relationship lies in the work of Pierre Bourdieu, specifically in his book, “The Field of Cultural Production.” Pierre Bourdieu, a French sociologist considered to be one of the leading intellectuals of modern day France, is responsible for the popular analysis of the relationships of power in society as influenced by the structuralist school of thought. These ideas, some of which are clearly stated in his book, “The Field of Cultural Production,” instantly struck me as starting point for a further look at these observations and ideas. Using both his broad and narrow statements in his essay, “Outline of a Sociological Theory of Art Perception,” I believe that there is an even deeper way of analyzing the relationship of music in Annapolis and how it is represented in local culture. This moves away from a purely geographic standpoint, into a wider sociological analysis that provides more insight into the consumption of music by the consumer.

“Outline of Sociological Theory of Art Perception” reads almost exactly as the title suggests - an intellectual guide on how visual art is perceived through the eyes of the audience. Through making broad statements on the perception of art and following the statements with finely detailed analysis, Bourdieu puts narrative into this form of intellectual thought, showing the nuances, both subtle and not, of art perception, culture, and appropriation of personal satisfaction

in audience members. Using what I believe to be three of Bourdieu’s most important ideas in this reading, I present a way to both simplify and analyze the relationship between this school of thought and the realities of the relationship between culture and music in Annapolis, as well as the music industry as a whole.

1.) “Any art perception involves a conscious or unconscious deciphering operation.”In his work, Bourdieu describes the process of deciphering art as immediate and adequate comprehension that is made possible by the cultural code and lifestyle surrounding it. In bars on Main and West Street, this form of perception, as influenced by culture surrounding, it is very clear. Depending on what venue a viewer is at, and what venue an artist is playing at, there are different physical and mental giveaways that clearly show which musical and cultural emphasis is present in the general population at any given moment. Best personified by the atmosphere in venues like Pusser’s Caribbean Grille, a multi roomed bar and restaurant often featuring deejays, dancing, and waterfront drinks right near City Dock on Main Street, and inversely, the Metropolitan Kitchen and Lounge on West Street, one of the premiere bar and venues for live bands, a viewer can perceive art based on how the location and social atmosphere consciously and unconsciously affects their understanding. Be it a more preppy and DJ based style, compared to a more hipster and live music style, based on their respective location, the deciphering operation of art and music in Annapolis has many different factors that start immediately as you get into the city and the venue you plan on spending time at.

2.) “Any deciphering operation requires a more or less complex code which has been more or less completely mastered.”Bourdieu describes this through the use of the work of Erwin Panofsky, a famous German art historian, providing examples to show how meaning is deciphered through overall experience and higher levels of meaning itself, and giving further insight on the discussion of how culture affects viewers. While Bourdieu uses this technique to describe inner realization through a visual art medium, I am using the technique to describe the socioeconomic values that are carried by audience members in Annapolis, and how those values affect their overall music experience. While there are no specific boundaries to different venues in Annapolis, I observed that those of a certain age going to venues on Main Street appear to act as if they have either more personal or family wealth than those that go to venues on West Street. While this is only at face value without any real data or interviews to back it up, and is not meant to alienate my audience, this observation in the field showed me a clear difference between the weekend bar-goers and music listeners in different geographic locations in Annapolis. The complex code of deciphering what Bourdieu narrates reflects the nature of socioeconomic upbringing and what viewers do to nurture that mindset. While basic visual observation does not account for all specificities proving a somewhat of a flawed way of research, the act of visual observation implies a broad enough simplification of the different socioeconomic standards of those being observed. The audience members at venues and bars Main Street and West Street specifically seemed to reinforce the stereotypes of what social, cultural, and economic groups they associated themselves with through the clothes they wore, way they spoke, and music they listened to. Through years of upbringing in different socioeconomic circumstances, broadly represented through visual observation of audience members themselves, the “complex code that has already been mastered” is implied through said observations as well as geographic residence of the venue.

3.) “Since the work of art only exists as such to the extent that it is perceived, it goes without saying that the satisfactions attached to this perception are only accessible to those who are disposed to appropriate them because they attribute a value to them, it being understood that they can do this only if they have the means to appropriate them.”This sentiment furthers the idea that there is a kind of socioeconomic culture change between people enjoying their time on either street, further narrating the ideas that there is a shift in social culture between Main Street and West Street. While it was harder to try and distinguish the social and economic perspectives and characteristics of observants over the age of 30, those under 30 make how they want to present themselves to society visibly clear by the clothes they wear and way they act. Furthering the narrative of visual observation and the broad representation of audience members, the appropriation of different lifestyles show the changing spectrum of cultural atmosphere as you move from West Street to Main Street. While this is not meant to be a blanket statement that covers every person in Annapolis at any given moment, it clarified the narrative of the relationship between culture and local music; location is still as important as ever, but there are many socioeconomic forces that illustrate the ideas of art perception and broadly represent audience members that might not be accounted for by geography alone.

While a Bourdieu inspired analysis provides what I believe to be a truthful way of observing the consumption of local music in Annapolis, there is still a need for specific explanation in order to explain any inconsistencies in the argument. Even though Annapolis appears to have very clear social, economic, and cultural characteristics, there were certain factors I was able to see that flew below the radar of general, popular life in the city. The best example of this was an instance in which existence outside the local canon of Annapolis culture was made sadly clear. On two separate nights, I ran into an older, African American gentleman that goes by the name of “Frank.” I was not able to have a legitimate interview with Frank, but stopping and talking to him only for a few minutes was able to illustrate a number of holes in the culture of Annapolis to me. Even though I have no idea if this was the truth, Frank told me that at one point in his life, he played with George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic, one of the most popular and enduring funk musical collectives of the 20th century, filling in for Bootsy Collins on the bass. Meeting a musician like that, was an incredible experience, but those meetings had a very sad and dark undertone that led to our initial exchange. Both times I saw Frank, he was asking people passing by for money to use the bus, but both times, Frank had different substances that he was using: alcohol and crack cocaine. Seeing someone who, for all I know, had talent, followed his dream playing music, played with an enduringly popular group, all while presumably having a good time doing it, fallen so far, could not have been any more sad. It provided one final insight into an ugly truth that is not well publicized in the community of music audiences, but represents a sad reality of life in Annapolis, and life in the United States in general.

The analysis of these meetings with Frank draw from the work of Roderick Ferguson, a professor of African American and Gender and Women's Studies in the African American Studies Department at the University of Illinois, Chicago, and more specifically from his writing, “The Specter of Woodridge: Canonical Formations and the Anticanonical in Invisible Man.” In his chapter, “Canonical Formations,” Ferguson discusses the idea of canons, or authoritative

judgement, and how they formed the lack of representation of African Americans in modern history. This immediately spoke to me about the canon of music in Annapolis, reflecting a lack of diversity that does not represent culture to its fullest extent. While Annapolis might show itself as a place for history and culture, there appeared to be a serious lack of ethnic and gender minorities in the canon of local music from what I was able to witness. This is personified by the geographic and economic nature of the town itself, in which the widely more expensive properties sit at the forefront of public focus, and the exponentially poorer Section 8 housing exist outside of town. I believe that this kind of relationship directly relates to the consumption of music and representation of artists, not only showing a lack of African American musicians as compared to white musicians actively playing, but also a lack of women playing as well. Simply and sadly put, Annapolis, as a town with wealth and a thriving music scene, does not feature as many African American and women performers as they do white male performers on any given night.

With the reality of white men being the overwhelming majority of performers playing on any given night, and sticking to the few different genres of Reggae, Indie Music, Heavier Rock, “Dad Rock” and Cover Bands, I would argue that the artistic culture of Annapolis has a flawed relationship with the reality of its overall socioeconomic culture. I felt a disconnect even in my early reporting, as this lack of diversity at a face value forced me to have to go further out of my way to meet female and African American interviewees, the latter of which I was rarely able to review, let alone interview. It is true that African Americans make up a smaller percentage of the overall population statistics in Annapolis (census.gov), and while there is a correct mathematical representation of minority artists in the public sphere, I believe that the landscape is still flawed. American popular music is deeply rooted in African American culture, and while Annapolis may be a collection of fruitful opportunities for performers, there is not enough representation of the overall population, be it ethnic or gender based.

And what about “normal people” as well?

Like our current national state, the activities of the middle class are rapidly declining. While people like me, those who may not consider themselves a part of any obvious definition of social type of audience member, exist in the sphere of music viewership in Annapolis, our voice is seemingly nonexistent. Too similar to the state of culture in the United States in 2016, the “middle path” of viewers just looking for a good show appear to be phased out by the noise of the cultural extremes. This leads me to conclude that the relationship of local music and small town culture revolves purely around the geographic area it exists in and the viewers that exist within that landscape. While there are those that come in outside of the canon, possibly acting with the best interest of art, or with relation to the current cultural trends, the apparent reality of what is defined is defined by those that exist within, with external agents having to navigate around the landscapes provided.

The correlative geographic relationship, social analysis of art appreciation, and realities of the of canon and lack thereof keeps me thinking about the landscape of music in culture on both a local and national level. I have found myself both inwardly and outwardly looking at the culture of music in Annapolis and the United States for many years, as it personally and directly

relates to me, benefitting my own dreams, and those of others, of playing live music. Even though an ethnographic study and analysis like this can hopefully illustrate the realities of local music and culture, as well as illustrate the settings of towns like Annapolis as a place to get started as a musician, the changing landscape of the music in the 21st century shows clear factors that relates to our uneven national music industry and society. Culture in Annapolis, like many other things, can be perceived a system, with very clearly presented forces determining what survives and what fails, with only rare outside forces enabling bigger changes.

But just so we’re clear, the appreciation of music and art will never be a bad thing.

It just shows that the question of “what it really means” all depends on who you’re talking to.

-HP

Works Cited

“African American Heritage.” Accessed May 15, 2016. http://www.annapolis.gov/visitors/african-american-heritage.

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Jeff Schad, interview by Henry Pazaryna, March 4, 2016.

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