How to Cultivate a Career in Music (and Not Hate It)

by John Culbreth

October 16, 2020


I’m sitting down to write this today with the hope that I can instill some wisdom into aspiring musicians and help give them insight into how to choose the most fulfilling path they can. Being a musician is one of the most fulfilling parts of my life, but it also obviously comes with a gauntlet of challenges. Devoting your life to creating art while maintaining financial stability is a balancing act, and if you’re not careful you could end up burning out and forgetting the things that brought you to music in the first place.


The music business makes it so that you need to do a lot more than simply be a talented musician to get by. There are specialties within that business that paired with musical talent (or drive, perhaps more importantly) creates a greater effect. I’m still learning how to piece together live performances, trumpet lessons, music sales, social media, music licensing, sheet music, sampling, and anything else to maximize the impact of whatever art I’m making. In spite of their importance, career growth and the options out there often aren’t even introduced as a topic until a musician hits the real world.


The following realizations were some that I wish I could go back and tell my younger budding musician self. They’re not in any particular order, and there will be more to come.


Music Academia (especially high school) can give you the wrong priorities

Where I grew up (Houston), the region/all-state band auditions were the focus of the highschool band programs and were pretty competitive. I remember going into my region band audition with 50 other trumpet players, where we had to wait and listen to every kid perform their audition pieces with different rounds for each piece. The auditions took all day, and then when they tabulated the results, if you made it into the top 15 or so you had to re-audition for chair placement. I remember the pressure when stepping up to the music stand with everyone listening, and 5 music teachers judging us based on sound, accuracy, and style. When I was done playing, I’d sit back in my corner and whisper speculations about who was ranked where with the players sitting near me. The spirit of it was pretty cut throat, and often you’d see kids who didn’t make it crying on their way out.


This was my first impression, and I think many band students’ first impressions, of how a life in music as a trumpet player might work. I had a mental plan based on the results of my high school audition career of having 3 pieces chosen for me each year, practicing them ad nauseum, and being able to perform under pressure and sounding “better” than my peers. I thought I’d just tackle any audition that came up with the same method and prove that I was the right choice through my playing alone.


In reality, this path exists within a pretty small set of parameters. There are only a few types of full time ensembles that are public audition based and provide full time work (mainly orchestras and military ensembles), with an insane amount of competition for each position. This realm, however rewarding when you make it to the top, leaves in its wake a sizeable number of incredible musicians feeling defeated and inadequate. In addition to that, a good portion of musicians who make it to a professional orchestra experience panic attacks and depression, perhaps due to the tendency to assign self worth to their ability on their instrument, or perhaps because they realize they might not want to play in an orchestra their whole life but have no other obvious career options to maintain their lifestyle.


However, there are plenty of directions someone with musical skill can pursue. Even if it’s not necessarily being an internationally touring soloist or landing a steady performance gig, the world abounds with opportunities to be around music professionally. Below are a few thoughts that may help steer you towards living a fulfilling life in the music industry.


Identify what brings you JOY, and what does the OPPOSITE

Perhaps the most important step in finding your path is to reflect on what parts of music bring you happiness. What gets you out of bed in the morning? Is it practicing? Writing songs? Listening to records? Seeing your favorite band play? Being familiar with our inner music lover’s needs is important, because sometimes when the going gets tough it’s necessary to remind ourselves why we’re here in the first place. It’s when we lose sight of this that the music life begins to turn towards the dark.


One of the most intense parts of music life is being on the road. As an independent artist, touring has been a crucial part of building an audience and maintaining relevance in a saturated market. But being away from home for weeks at a time, especially at the beginning when you’re making no money and crashing on strangers floors, can bring in some serious doubts. Waking up with a sore back after four hours of sleep to get into a van and drive 8 hours for the fourth day in a row can be a real downer. The music you’re playing and the companionship of your bandmates and crew (hopefully the reason you hit the road in the first place) can be the only things to pull you through the home stretch, so make sure that both of those bring you joy! If they don’t, you may want to find another outlet.


Balance in all things

Sometimes too much of that type of intensity can become destructive. If you’re constantly wishing you were home, or your bandmate just made that stupid joke you’ve heard a million times and it definitely isn’t getting any funnier and you can’t leave the room because you’re trapped in a metal cage on wheels, it can be difficult to find joy in anything. Creative energy gets sapped quickly in this mindset, and if the negativity is not counter-balanced, it can quickly ruin music for you.


One of my highschool friends (I’ll call him Mark) was extremely devoted to practicing bass. We’d geek out over orchestral excerpts and sing our favorite parts, definitely experiencing joy along the way. Eventually was accepted to Rice University as a bass performance major. He eventually made it to the top of the bass section, and when he graduated he was all set to move to Berlin to perform with an orchestra.


When Mark got to Berlin, he looked around and suddenly realized that this life was not what he wanted. He flew right back to Houston and put his bass down for good. A few days later I met up with him for bagels, and he told me how his experience in college had killed his passion. The competition was fierce for a spot in the top orchestra, and he had developed a guilt-based relationship with the bass. He’d be practicing for hours, go to pack up, and then hear the musician in the room next to him, still practicing. He’d hear a voice in his head say “every second you’re not practicing, someone else is working harder than you.”


While he was saying this, I had stopped eating my bagel in disbelief. As he was telling this story I was thinking of condolences or words of comfort to make him feel better. But as he concluded this saga and told me that he had put his bass down forever, his eyes lit up and he had a huge smile on his face. He said “I feel free for the first time in years!”


Thinking back to that conversation, I realize now how much of a bullet Mark dodged by deciding to put down his bass. He managed to find the balance in his life and be happy, but it came too late to include being a bass player. Mark is now living in a Zen Buddhist monastery off the grid somewhere in California last I heard.


I don’t tell that story to dissuade anyone from becoming a performer. The lesson I learned from Mark is that sometimes our lives are more off balance than we realize, and we may need to make bigger changes than we’re prepared to consider to restore balance. It took a lot of bravery for him to acknowledge his feelings, let go of his internal identity and self-value as a bass player, and pursue a more peaceful life. Perhaps had he listened more to his inner music lover throughout, he wouldn’t have had to let go of bass entirely. Or maybe he would have ended up at the monastery sooner. Who knows?


At the end of the day, we owe it to ourselves to check in and make sure our relationship with music still has that spark.


There’s still a lot more I’d say to my younger self, but I’ll leave it at that today and pick up later in the next chapter.