Issue 11: Now That's What I Call Salient
Frankie Dale | She/Her
IN TUNE // OUT OF TUNE
I am proud to say I have never dated a DJ. It's not really my thing. I will be honest though—I have never had a boyfriend who hasn’t termed himself a musician. Whatever that means; I have an illness.
My brain is chemically inclined to be drawn to the Mac Demarco meets Julian Casablancas and, more often than not, Rod Stewart hybrid of a man. There is no rhyme or reason to this, it happens by accident every. single. time.
I had to stop and ask myself: am I a desperate groupie? Or is New Zealand ravaged with sexy, young, aspiring musicians?
First up, the indie musician. A couple years back, he could’ve easily been spotted rocking some red Vans and a cap that said “New England Bowling Club 1999” or whatever. Nowadays, my king is harder to spot.
Usually though, he’s sneaking up on me in a suede suit on the San Fran balcony telling me his band is “finally going to make it big” due to the generous funding from his parents. There’s no shame in making a start to your new album with the help of your parents, but please stop acting like Randy Jackson just signed you and you're about to make it onto the Grey’s Anatomy soundtrack.
I am in no way hating on the indie musician. I love them, the way they glide through the streets so seductively albeit sometimes obnoxiously, fearless and excited to perform.
My addiction started when I was about 16. I managed to date three out of four members of a band over the span of my high school career. (Please bear in mind this is when my daddy issues ran rampant).
Regrettably, I was never able to make it to the lead singer: an extremely gifted singer who’s smile could light up any room. The band eventually broke up.
Being compared to Yoko Ono by a member of the band was probably the lowest point of my adolescence.
Here's the thing about dating musicians: it's not a choice. At least, most of the time it’s not. Sometimes, they’re so irresistible, we just can’t help it. And if you hate yourself just enough, they can smell your sweet pheromones a mile away. Like so many other brands of tortured artists, indie musicians may have an agenda to ruin your life to get that sweet content.
Like with any prototype, the indie musician comes in many forms, starting with the raging hates-his-mum musician to the disturbed sad boy.
Now, I’m unsure if I could call this boyfriend a ‘musician’. He has never actually released any music, but it's a term he identifies with and I’m not here to stop him living his fantasy.
Over the months we dated he often hoarded his musician status over me, making it clear that I could never understand his tortured genius. Apparently, I will never be able to come to terms with the ‘rawness’ ~vegan straight edge rock~ has to offer. Fml.
This guy is one of the flakiest people I have ever known. Not only in his feelings towards me, but also in his commitment towards his music career. One day he would be furiously jotting down lyrics about his psycho ex-girlfriends (red flag) and the next he had completely forgotten about it and wouldn’t stop talking about his ever growing obsession with Mike Hosking.
When his busy practise schedule started taking precedence over us spending time together, I couldn’t stifle my growing suspicion that he wasn’t even in a band at all. I assumed he was wasting these hours away picking up girls at Hotel Bristol (any excuse not to see me). You’ll leave him when his growing want for anal becomes less of a joke and more a problematic obession.
Although I took much pleasure in being someone's punching bag, it was time to move to a sadder species of musician. The sad boy, much like the soft boi except... a lot sadder. I do have an appreciation for the sad boy. What can I say—I love a guy who can talk about his feelings.
Although, there inevitably becomes a point when I’m returning home from work to a sobbing adult hunched over a synth. The sad boys I have had the privilege of dating are all well-to-do boys with linen sheets and expensive synths.
Their synths are like their hearts, both of which I was not able to touch.
The sad boy will keep quiet when you’re clearly flirting with the other band members but will secretly read the messages on your phone whilst you're asleep. He doesn’t trust you and is incredibly clingy but disguises it with his chill skater attire. Shaka, babe.
Whilst you’re falling asleep after the most menial sex one could possibly imagine making sure there is strictly no laughing or fun to be had, he will start stroking your back telling you how beautiful you looked at the gig that night. But... could you please stop wearing that low cut top—'it pisses me off’.
You’ll get up and attempt to walk out that door—you’ve had enough. But… thats the thing with a sad boy, he has you wrapped around his large hands with his empty promises of mutually pleasuring sex and the possibitlty that maybe one day, he will appreciate that your emotions are equally important.
You’ll wake up one day realising you're 21 and you’ve wasted your adolescence on handjobs, emotional turmoil, and dozens of toxic complexes. Not to mention, hundreds of UTIs.
I thought maybe it wasn’t fair that the musicians themselves didn’t have a voice. What do I know anyway? So I asked the professionals. What is it really like to date a normie?
Anon - ex fling, techno musician
“Sometimes you couldn’t grasp that I literally just wanted to stay home and jam out a song… you took it so personally, like you didn’t understand I had other priorities. Music is ultimately going to be my first priority”
Anon - lovely friend, guitarist
“Touring kinda ruined my relationships, in multiple ways. After you’ve gotten off stage it’s hard to recognise whos genuine, I struggle with it; makes it hard to recognise who’s legit”
Anon - Best friend’s boyfriend, Indie musician
“I’ve always dated normal girls. Recently I got bored of that so I turned my current girlfriend into a muso like me. It made our relationship a lot better”
Anon - Intelligent friend, SEXY DJ.
“ The best thing I ever learned is not to break down your lyrics to your SO. If you want to write with any level of complexity/freedom, leave your metaphorical/lyrical stones unturned. The breakdown is emotionally exhausting”
After taking in the honest words of these musicians, I couldn't help but think maybe musicians are a certain type of breed. Not bad or good, but passionate. Maybe more often than not, this passion did not translate into our relationships together—these relationships, often filled with disdain and resent.
But overall we can’t be angry at someone for their passions and that’s exactly what musicians have. NZ music month is a time to celebrate the best of the best, the upcoming and the famous. The talented and the not so talented. The auto-tune and the pedals. Thank you for your good work and keep it up.