Ep 15: Musician Archetypes

In this episode, John takes a look at something that can quietly shape your entire path as a musician… how you naturally show up in the musical landscape.

He introduces the idea of archetypes, not as labels you get stuck in, but as recognizable patterns. Ways of describing the instincts, tendencies, and roles that show up again and again in creative people.

Because when you don’t have language for that, it’s easy to fall into comparison. It’s easy to feel like you’re behind, or doing it wrong, or like everyone else has it figured out except you.

This is about getting clearer on where you fit, even if that fit isn’t permanent, and even if you see yourself in more than one place.

Transcript

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You are listening to the Gig to Live Podcast. Welcome everyone. I'm John Folsom. I'm a full-time working musician. This podcast is about building a music life that holds up overtime. It's practical, enjoyable, sometimes uncomfortable, but it's always about helping you stay in the game and actually enjoy the life that you're building. We'll meet some wonderful working musicians from time to time. So whether you're just getting started or you've been doing this for years, you're in the right spot. This podcast is for you. Hello, friends. Welcome to the podcast. I like to think of us as friends anyway, even if we've never met, because we obviously have something in common. Here you are listening to me. Thanks for doing that, by the way. I'm sitting here in my studio today, and I uh use that term rather loosely. My studio for podcasting consists of an odigo mic, which I absolutely love, these little mics, uh, sitting at my dinette table, surrounded by pillows, to try and dampen sound. And uh, you know what? I'm a little annoyed today. I'm just gonna be honest, I'm gonna confess that, because little sounds have been just sending me over the edge today. I don't know what I ate, but I'm really edgy. And uh, my dog scratching or drinking water, which shouldn't bother me, that my dog should be able to drink, still driving me insane. My neighbor outside saying hello to another neighbor. That should make me happy. People being friendly. Not today. I'm a little annoyed. Birds chirping everywhere, it's beautiful outside. I should be happy about that. But friends, I'm confessing to you right now. Okay, I got that off my chest. Here we go. Today we are going to talk about archetypes. I like to read, I like to watch movies, I really, really like a good story. And if you watch enough or you read enough stories, you begin to recognize patterns in these stories. And when you see the patterns, then you may start to understand people more and understand life more. Stories do that for us. They're a window and they're also a mirror. Beyond the story itself, though, I love getting into how stories are put together, why authors and movie makers make certain choices and they don't make other choices. I love watching a good movie and getting to the end and asking, oh, what does that mean? And I'll put together my own meaning for it, and then I'll spend as much time as I did watching the movie just reading other people's responses to it on the internet. Yeah, if you thought that was nerdy, we're gonna get a little bit more nerdy. We're going to talk about literary devices for a moment. Yes, that's right, kids. The techniques, the tools, the choices that storytellers use, those are called literary devices. We know what these are, though. Metaphor, simile. Those are two devices that we're all really familiar with. Personification, hyperbole, you know, exaggeration. We know these words. Well, the archetype is also a literary device. And hang with me, don't check out yet. We actually are getting somewhere here. This actually has something to do with music. And if you haven't really given the term uh archetype or literary devices, if you haven't really given that much thought, that's okay. I realize that high school English was a while ago, and we don't really sit around the table and talk about these things unless we're currently working in some kind of discipline that requires us to stay on top of these things, right? I I love archetypes. Archetypes are universal characters or character types that show up in every single story since the beginning of time. They aren't necessarily real people, but we identify with them and we learn from them, and we certainly recognize them when they show up in songs and in stories and in our lives. Why are Marvel movies such a big deal? Why does Disney continue to be relevant? Why does Harry Potter still rule the world? Why is K-pop Demon Hunters a deal? The morning show, succession, white lotus, severance, shrinking, they are all full of archetypes that you and I identify with. The hero, the villain, the wise old woman, the anti-hero, you know, the person doomed to fail, the sage. The songs that we identify with and the ones that last forever are the songs that echo the things that we already know to be true about life, and then someone poetically tells it back to us. They're the songs of lovers and poets and rebels and underdogs and outliers and philosophers, the burdened, the confident champion. These are archetypes, and they're everywhere we look. You see patterns in people when you go to the mall, when you ride on an airplane, we're all the same people, and at the same time, we're all different. Well, I think knowing this is important for the gigging musician because I believe that we all identify with certain archetypes, and if we use them as a lens to understand ourselves, then we avoid a lot of pain and pitfalls. And it it doesn't mean that we're stuck, by the way. We can try on all different things for size, but the path of discovery is super important so that we avoid things like the comparison game and feeling friction because we're force-feeding ourselves something or trying to make a square peg fit into a round hole. Think of this concept of archetypes kind of like a personality type, but personality types are those things that are more ingrained in us. And tests like Myers Briggs and the Enneagram might help us understand personality types. Personality type is more about like our internal wiring and how we function and how we uh interact with other people. But archetypes are more like the roles that we tend to play in life. A personality type might be something like an introvert or an extrovert. And an archetype would be more like the healer, the wizard, the philosopher. But there's a lot of overlap between the two. And with personality types and archetypes, nothing can ultimately define us. You can't just draw a circle around us and say this is who we are. Those things are just tools. Okay, with all of that said, and thank you for not hanging up on me at this point. I thought it would be fun to identify what I believe are some archetypes of performing musicians. And I made these up, okay? They're not real, they're make-believe, kids. I wrote a book called Becoming an Idea Mentalist, and I explored archetypes a bit in that book. I borrowed some things from that book, but I tweaked this quite a bit actually for this conversation for you and I. And I think that you're gonna find some commonality here with one or many of these archetypes. These are the people that we see and hear from on a weekly basis, and they are the people that we are. So drumroll, please. The top ten musician archetypes. Number ten, provocateurs. Now, this word sometimes has a negative connotation. When I was a kid, one of my mother's favorite things to say was quit provoking your brother to anger. But provocateurs, uh, that it doesn't they it doesn't have to have that negative connotation. Provocateurs are the people who poke and challenge and disrupt expectations. It could be lyrical, it could be stylistically, it could be how they interact with the crowd. Provocateurs are not afraid of tension or discomfort if it creates something honest. So if if people leave the gig talking or arguing or thinking differently, then the provocateur has done their job. They sense a disturbance in the force. Their ideas come from this conscientious response to that disturbance in the force. Their ideas are designed to make the world a better place by poking the bear. And they often make people angry with their ideas, and sometimes that's a good gauge for them. They are the people who are the censored poets and the writers and the artists that point out ugly things. They march against leaders, they are the protest songwriters, the status quo questioners, they are the system fighters. And they're not always loud, but man, their ideas, their words, the things they do, those things are loud. They scream. Are you a provocateur? Well, you can ask yourself some questions, maybe to get to the root of that. When something feels wrong in the world, do you feel compelled to respond? And does it hurt you, like in your soul, does it hurt to move on? Uh, you can ask, am I willing to say something true in my art if it risks people disliking or misunderstanding me? If you just don't care about that, but you'd rather get to the truth, the heart of the matter, we might be, you know, touching on something here for you. Do I interpret strong negative reactions as a signal that I've touched something real or as a reason that maybe I should pull back? Um do I create from conviction? What am I currently holding back that I know would make people uncomfortable if I said it out loud? Would I make the creative and witty signs for the protest? All right, that's a good group of questions to see if you may be a provocateur. Number nine, the prophets. These are the meaning makers. So they feel like they have something to say and a responsibility to say it, like the provocateur in many ways. Uh sometimes it's social, sometimes it's spiritual, sometimes it's deeply personal. But the the prophets are the musicians that change our minds. They they reorient us. And they have this insane ability to see things and to hear things that that nobody else seems to be aware of. Uh insane and inane. And even if people are aware, the prophet has the ability, and it seems like they have the license to say the tough things that bring us back on track or or help us see something and and change our ways. They are a lot like the provocateur, but but more than that, they see beauty where no one else saw beauty. They see how things can be. And there is a real redemptive tone to what the prophet does, uh, spreading hope and love and peace. They're the ones who often seem to have this ability to get a crowd chanting with them or get a crowd crying with them. They also see things in other people that no one sees. They invite those people to come along with them for the journey. They're often the ones that are creating bands of misfits with musicians that have been overlooked or discarded. They take quirky musicians, you know, with that one special skill, and they incorporate them and they give them a platform. They dream of and they create space for the phoenixes that are rising from the ashes. Is this you? Are you a prophet? When you hold back something that you believe needs to be said, does it stay with you and refuse to let go? Do people ever come up to you and say, wow, you put words to something that I couldn't even explain myself? And when things feel broken or off in a room or in a community, do you feel a pull to step in and to help reframe or to restore what's happening? When you walk off the stage, do you feel like you just performed or like you carried something that needed to be delivered? I mean, you could have both of those things, but is there something deep with that performance that just feels like monumental to you? Like I did it, I got it out there. Well, you may be a prophet. Number eight, assemblers. Assemblers build things out of people and parts, uh, bands, collaborations, projects, events. These are the ones who are uh texting everyone, organizing rehearsals, pulling together a rhythm section, curating a night. Uh it's less about look at me and more about look what we made or look what we are doing. They're like the found object artists who practice the art of taking things that are disjointed and they turn them into a beautiful work of art. And they do this with people, with styles, with textures, with instruments, with sounds, with ideas. I love these people. Are you one of these people? When you walk into a scattered situation, do you instinctively start seeing how the right people or the right pieces could come together? Do you find more satisfaction in building something collective than in being the focal point yourself? When you hear different styles or ideas, do you naturally imagine how they could blend into something new? You may be an assembler. Number seven, originators. These are the people that start from scratch. New songs, new sounds, new approaches. They're less interested in what already works, they're more interested in what hasn't been done yet, at least in their world. These are the ones who blow minds because they seem to create something out of nothing. And our eyes and our ears say, wait a minute, what is this? And they end up influencing other people and creating many versions of themselves unintentionally, because we all just kind of want to be like them. They're the bands that when you hear uh when you hear another band, you might say they sound like Radiohead or the Beatles, because they all have this standout distinct quality about them that occupies a different sonic space, the oingo boingos, the Metallicas, Beck, um, as opposed to somebody like uh Michael Boublet. And he's phenomenal, great. I I wish I could sing like him, but uh an obvious talent. But he gets compared to everyone who came before him and laid the groundwork for crooners like himself, you know, Sinatra, Dean Martin, Bing Crosby, and even later artists like Harry Connick Jr. Are you an originator? When you follow your instincts creatively, do you often end up somewhere unfamiliar rather than refining something recognizable to the rest of us? Do you ever feel disconnected from trends because your ideas don't seem to come from what other people are doing? When something starts to sound too familiar or derivative when you're creating, do you lose interest in it and you want to just tear it apart? Have you ever created something that didn't make sense to people at first, but later it started to catch on, they started to catch up? When you imagine your best work, does it feel like discovering something that already exists somewhere inside you rather than assembling it from the outside influences? If so, then this may be you. Number six artisans. These are the uh craft first musicians. They care about doing things well, you know, precision, consistency, tone, execution. They may not need to reinvent anything, but what they do? They do it right. They're the ones that other musicians respect immediately. The Neil Pertz, the John Bonhams, the Yo-Yo Maz, Eddie Van Halen, Steve Vi, Django Reinhardt, a bunch of prog rock bands like Dream Theater or Porcupine Tree, who often get labeled as Math Rock because it changes tempo and time signatures with precision 75 different times, you know, in a 27-minute song. They are detailed people. They love refining the thing. They may not chase the spotlight, but they raise the level of everything they touch. Many of them aren't just precise about their musical ability. They have a special third eye for things like tone. And then everybody wants that tone. They know about Sonic Space and what they need to record in that studio to get that sound. Man, I love meeting recording engineers who are artisans because they're perfectly nerdy about the right compressor, the right mic, uh, mic placement, drum sounds. I am not an artisan. Oh, I got a message. Ding, I should turn that off. I am not an artisan. But when I trust my music with one, it's almost like they rewrote my song without changing a note. So ask yourself, am I an artisan? When I revisit my own work, do I instinctively hear what needs to be improved rather than what I already did well? Do I find myself chasing a very specific sound or feel that I can hear clearly in my head, but I struggle to fully capture it? When something is technically good enough, does that feel unresolved to me? There's no such thing as good enough. Do I lose respect for work that cuts corners, even if it's popular or it's successful? When I collaborate, do I naturally elevate the quality of the final product without needing recognition for it? Do I own multiple yes albums? Well, you may be an artisan. Number five, connectors. These are the relationship builders. They thrive on community and collaboration and bringing people together. They might not be the flashiest player, but they're often the reason that the scenes exist. They get gigs because people trust them and like being around them. I love these people so much. They are always putting events together, multi instrumentalist concerts, and if they ever do perform solo, there's a good chance that a bunch of musicians in the community are coming out to support. Them. When I walk into a room, do I naturally start building relationships rather than focusing on my own performance? Do people reach out to me not just for gigs, but because they trust me and they want to be around me? When I see opportunity, do I think about who else I can include instead of keeping it all to myself? Do I find energy in creating spaces where other musicians can connect and collaborate and belong? If I stopped reaching out and bringing people together, would something in my local music scene noticeably disappear? If there's a big concert in my town, should I headline it or should I be the supporting act? You know, should I support the musicians who will have the big spotlight? You may be a connector. Number four, interpreters. They don't need to write the song to make it powerful. These are your cover artists, your stylists, your tone shapers who take the existing material and they make it feel personal and alive in a new and different way. They understand delivery and audience connection at this super deep level. These are the people who take a song and they make the room stop. And everyone's asking, why do I know the song? The song sounds different and people hear it again for the first time. And the room may start crying or laughing or both. In the world of corporate music, these might be the artists that make a hit and they sell a bajillion more copies than the original. They'll take a hit song and they'll make it their own. In the bar scene, they're the cover artists that venue owners love because they have this special something about those covers, and people ask about these artists all the time. Are you an interpreter? Well, ask yourself this. When I perform a song I didn't write, do I feel a pull to make it mine rather than just recreate it? Do people respond to my versions of songs as if they're hearing them for the first time? Do I hear a heavy metal song and I imagine it as a slow ballad? Romantic ballad. You may be an interpreter. Number three, entertainers. These people care deeply about feel and tone and look and mood and space, and it's not just the song, it's the whole experience, the lighting, the gear, the way they dress, the pacing of the set. They're trying to create a world that people step into, not just play music at people. They understand the room, they read the energy, they adjust on the fly, they know how to hold attention. It isn't about selling out, it's about knowing that performance is more than sound. It's experience. Entertainers are so fun. You leave feeling like a void was filled that you didn't even know existed. You can't remember when you had that much fun. You can't believe that they did that one thing that everyone is going to be talking about forever. When entertainers have more than one superpower, then they're a force to be reckoned with. It's one of the music superpowers that seems to be innate because nothing they do seems kitschy or awkward or planned. They know that their limbs are extensions of their person and they get entangled with the audience in profound ways. And when a crowd starts drifting, they instinctively change something in the moment and they pull people back in. Are you an entertainer? Well, if the energy in the room suddenly spikes, do you know how to write it and stretch the moment without losing control? When something unexpected happens, do you lean into it and turn it into part of the experience? Do you find yourself thinking about what the audience needs next rather than what you plan for? Would your Mount Rushmore of music include the faces of Bjork and Tina Turner and Jimi Hendricks and Prince? Well, my friend, you may be an entertainer. Number two, the explorers. They're always trying something new, new genres, new setups, new formats, new venues. They don't get bored easily because they're wired for discovery and they risk a lack of consistency, but the upside is constant growth and fresh energy. And some people dig this. They love knowing that they never know what they're going to get when they see this person or this band. I feel like a band, maybe like the flaming lips, kind of fits this category because even though they are consistently the flaming lips, they're always doing special projects like covering Dark Side of the Moon from top to bottom or inviting a hundred dancing Dorothy's on stage. The next time you see them, they they probably will have a totally different theme, like a sci-fi theme. When I look at opportunities, do I ask, what haven't I tried yet? Instead of what will work best? Have I taken creative risks that confused or surprised my audience, but it felt necessary to me? When people come to see me, do they expect something different each time? And does that excite me to my core? Do I get bored with my own sets after one time and I feel angsty to try something new? Wow. You may be an explorer. And then finally, our number one, not because of value, but because it is the end of the top 10 list. Number one, preservationists. These people carry on tradition. They care about preserving styles and honoring genres and doing things the way that they've been done for years. To honor those who've gone before, they they have no interest in inventing something new. They may write a new song, but they'll do it in this time-honored way. They'll use the right instrumentation for the genre. They're the old souls, the crooners, the cowboys and cowgirls. Think uh Roots music, jazz standards, classic players, players of the great American songbook, keeping traditions of Zydeco and Gypsy Jazz and Bluegrass and Cajun and Delta Blues. And when you hear these musicians, you shake your head and you say, Yep, that matters. That is something worth doing right. You might be one of these people. When you're learning or performing a piece, do you feel like you're stepping into something that already exists rather than making it your own? Do you ever hesitate to change or to reinterpret something because it feels like crossing a line? Ask yourself, when I hear someone take liberties with a style, do I feel tension because something essential is being lost? Do I find myself studying not just the music but the context, the players, the history, the lineage behind it? When I play, do I feel like I'm representing something bigger than myself? Would I rather spend a day with Taylor Swift or Johnny Cash? With Benson Boone or Clifton Schneer. You may be a preservationist. All right, well, hey, thanks. This has been a super fun conversation. I hope you find something helpful here. As always, please uh subscribe to the podcast, like it, you know, give it that thumbs up, that five star rating, all of that super helps. And I'm glad that you join me here today. Stay creative, stay after it, stay higher.