Sterling Proffer

Nobody deserves support, public or otherwise, for making something no one wants. Artists, in that respect, are not any different from people who open restaurants or shops, many of which also fail. Being an artist is not a job. In economic terms, it is a business.

The cycle is dizzying and numbing: The allure of authenticity invites fascination and then, inevitably, skepticism. All along, truth and trust aren’t celebrated; they’re destabilized.

Creators and communities do what they do because they love their world, and they want to invite more people into it. It’s about delivering non-replicable value to passionate audiences. As you scale, you will reach a point where it’s impossible — indeed, damaging — to devote more hours of the day to creative endeavors.

Humans are unique because we compete when it isn’t necessary. We could reason our way to more sustainable processes, but we use our intelligence to outsmart each other. We compete for fun, for ego.

Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius — and a lot of courage — to move in the opposite direction.

The top 1% of musicians now make ~77% of revenue in music. Many factions of the independent musical infrastructure have become closer and closer aligned with corporate interests and advertising supported journalistic models in order to keep their head just slightly above water, and are in danger of losing their distinction and identity as a result.

There is such urgency in the multitude of crises we face, it can make it hard to remember that in fact it is urgency thinking (urgent constant unsustainable growth) that got us to this point, and that our potential success lies in doing deep, slow, intentional work.