In a land far, far away there is metropolis. It’s a metropolis filled with urbanites and artists striving so hard for Hollywood fame. It’s a barrel of people filled with high hopes and the criteria to be able to afford hope is getting higher and higher. This town I speak of is my home. This town I speak of is more commonly referred to as Atlanta.
Here’s a bit of backstory of the popular city. It became lucrative for music and black business. The streets were filled with snap-backs, trap music and baggy jeans. Of course, the more left of center artists of this town weren’t quite satisfied with this commercial and rather suffocating portrayal of their city, and it spawned a mean underground movement of more substantial movers-and-shakers. There were parties, bow-ties, Basquiat enthusiasts, Studio54-obsessed socialites and the whole nine yards. This new wave spawned artists that went on to accomplish amazing things, namely Janelle Monae and B.O.B.
The success of these few people made others official local celebrities, sometimes for no other reason but being associated with these artists before they became bonafied stars. Fast forward to now, and this metropolis is a mess. It’s filled with faux stylists, wobbly brands, and more all in hopes that they might too be part of the next wave of stars that are abducted from Atlanta. While dreamers do dream dreams that come true, Atlanta isn’t a city of dreamers like Wonderland. Atlanta is a city filled with opportunists and social climbers with little talent to their name and nothing to offer besides a contact for bookings e-mail address on their social media pages. This is Atlanta.
Like the rest of America, Atlanta is going through a money drought. More horrifying, Atlanta is not only low on money, but its low on integrity and hope (yes, this is a double entendre for the college students still pissed about H.O.P.E. scholarships. Thank me later.) Even in the sacred confines of the underground, where talent should reign supreme, it takes very little to be offered a microphone, stage, audience and set-time. Really, all you have to do is ask or know the right person. I remember my dad, who is a jazz musician, would tell me times of countless auditions, practices, and rejection he’d have to go through just to perform for free at his favorite pub on amateur night. I can only wonder what he would say about the ease that Atliens can acquire what is musician’s biggest privilege. Even sadder, the hope of stardom or discovery hardly exists because talentless fame-seekers have over-saturated the artists’ market making it almost impossible to see, hear, and feel something actually worthwhile.
This metropolis is in even more grave danger, the ones that actually have the chance to taste sweet success are so focused on their success that they forget what makes a community strong; having a community. There are so many stars, but everyone is thirsty for the shine when that should be a star’s last concern. A star effortlessly shines; the real challenge is getting someone to notice. The real challenge is to create a galaxy, a constellation, and a community vivid and strong enough that star-gazers will actually want to gaze. Plainly, nobody visits a city for one artist, brand, or designer; they visit because there is a collection of amazingness going on underneath a single groove. These little dippers looking to acquire fame seem to not comprehend the idea that their own success could very much so depend on the success of those around them, especially if they plan on being successful in a city that isn’t L.A. or New York.
As aforementioned, money is dry and this is no secret. That should mean people in Atlanta hustle harder to afford the services they might enlist with their fellow creative types, right? Wrong. It turned Atlanta into a city where nobody wants to pay for anything. Graphic designers get gipped, writers get over-looked for horrible wordsmiths looking for shine from a blog, great musicians don’t get booked because some bloke is willing to perform for free, and so on and so forth. Atlanta is the official, unofficial city of the hook-up and the faux-internship. It’s not strange to encounter someone looking to get a service for free or someone to offer you the time of your life as an ‘intern’ for their homegrown company in lieu of cutting a check. It’s blasphemous, I know.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my metropolis. You know, forever I love Atlanta. This is a cry from frustrations and constructive criticism than just some mean-spirited critique. This solution is simple, as most solutions are. Atlanta, do the right thing. No, not just like the Spike Lee film, but really do the right thing. Pay for services. Book artists that make good music, built their buzz, and have good live performances. Support others, no matter how big or small their goals are, if you like what they’re doing. Stop riding the coattails of people just because they might one day be famous. If you’re older and more experienced, stop using the eagerness of younger and less experienced people as a way to source free labor. (Want a general rule? If you can’t afford two employees, you can’t afford one intern.) Be altruistic about business, sometimes. It doesn’t hurt to help someone or guide them just because it’s the good thing to do without having a big payback to be returned. Don’t steal ideas, this city is entirely too small to copy your fellow Atlanta brethren. Be good at what you do. There are so many people in Atlanta trying to reach their goals, don’t add to the clutter if you haven’t taken the time to perfect your craft. You’re getting in the way. Being a follower is amazing. Everyone isn’t meant to be a leader and usually the best leaders follow. It’s okay to help somebody or be part of something special that you believe in than just wanting to steer your own sinking ship just because you’re afraid you might not get as much recognition. Give props when they’re due. You never know where someone may advance to in their career and they might just remember your kind words, besides its nice. Hire the right people. If you can’t write, don’t write. If you can’t produce, don’t produce. If you can’t design, don’t design. If you’re representing Atlanta with a half-ass website, song, or whatever the case might be, you’re representing the city poorly and making it just that much more difficult for all of us to get recognition and be taking seriously. Step up to the plate or fall back. That goes for everything. Some do-it-yourself projects come out swell, but a lot just end up making Atlanta look even more cheap and laughable.
See, it’s really just doing the right thing. Atlanta, we’re not a New York or L.A. We’re hardly a solid community with a creative face, even after our Cee-los, Andre 3000s, Janelles, and etc. We’re still proving we’re more than ‘crank that’ dances and A hats. We still have to prove that we are a progressive and creative city with a distinct attitude and taste unique from anywhere else in the world. It’s our first responsibility to build a place where people will actually care about what we like artistically, what we wear, what we create, what we listen to, and who we are. I dream of a day where my manic metropolis could turn into a creative utopia. In fact, I know it can, if we just stop the bullshit and do what’s right.
I’m an artist (by the way of writing and creative direction in music and fashion) born in New York City, currently living in Atlanta, Ga that enjoys being observed and exploited, so I’m hardly a rarity.
While Dreamers do Dream Dreams that Come True, Atlanta Isn’t a City of Dreamers like Wonderland
In a land far, far away there is metropolis. It’s a metropolis filled with urbanites and artists striving so hard for Hollywood fame. It’s a barrel of people filled with high hopes and the criteria to be able to afford hope is getting higher and higher. This town I speak of is my home. This town I speak of is more commonly referred to as Atlanta.
Here’s a bit of backstory of the popular city. It became lucrative for music and black business. The streets were filled with snap-backs, trap music and baggy jeans. Of course, the more left of center artists of this town weren’t quite satisfied with this commercial and rather suffocating portrayal of their city, and it spawned a mean underground movement of more substantial movers-and-shakers. There were parties, bow-ties, Basquiat enthusiasts, Studio54-obsessed socialites and the whole nine yards. This new wave spawned artists that went on to accomplish amazing things, namely Janelle Monae and B.O.B.
The success of these few people made others official local celebrities, sometimes for no other reason but being associated with these artists before they became bonafied stars. Fast forward to now, and this metropolis is a mess. It’s filled with faux stylists, wobbly brands, and more all in hopes that they might too be part of the next wave of stars that are abducted from Atlanta. While dreamers do dream dreams that come true, Atlanta isn’t a city of dreamers like Wonderland. Atlanta is a city filled with opportunists and social climbers with little talent to their name and nothing to offer besides a contact for bookings e-mail address on their social media pages. This is Atlanta.
Like the rest of America, Atlanta is going through a money drought. More horrifying, Atlanta is not only low on money, but its low on integrity and hope (yes, this is a double entendre for the college students still pissed about H.O.P.E. scholarships. Thank me later.) Even in the sacred confines of the underground, where talent should reign supreme, it takes very little to be offered a microphone, stage, audience and set-time. Really, all you have to do is ask or know the right person. I remember my dad, who is a jazz musician, would tell me times of countless auditions, practices, and rejection he’d have to go through just to perform for free at his favorite pub on amateur night. I can only wonder what he would say about the ease that Atliens can acquire what is musician’s biggest privilege. Even sadder, the hope of stardom or discovery hardly exists because talentless fame-seekers have over-saturated the artists’ market making it almost impossible to see, hear, and feel something actually worthwhile.
This metropolis is in even more grave danger, the ones that actually have the chance to taste sweet success are so focused on their success that they forget what makes a community strong; having a community. There are so many stars, but everyone is thirsty for the shine when that should be a star’s last concern. A star effortlessly shines; the real challenge is getting someone to notice. The real challenge is to create a galaxy, a constellation, and a community vivid and strong enough that star-gazers will actually want to gaze. Plainly, nobody visits a city for one artist, brand, or designer; they visit because there is a collection of amazingness going on underneath a single groove. These little dippers looking to acquire fame seem to not comprehend the idea that their own success could very much so depend on the success of those around them, especially if they plan on being successful in a city that isn’t L.A. or New York.
As aforementioned, money is dry and this is no secret. That should mean people in Atlanta hustle harder to afford the services they might enlist with their fellow creative types, right? Wrong. It turned Atlanta into a city where nobody wants to pay for anything. Graphic designers get gipped, writers get over-looked for horrible wordsmiths looking for shine from a blog, great musicians don’t get booked because some bloke is willing to perform for free, and so on and so forth. Atlanta is the official, unofficial city of the hook-up and the faux-internship. It’s not strange to encounter someone looking to get a service for free or someone to offer you the time of your life as an ‘intern’ for their homegrown company in lieu of cutting a check. It’s blasphemous, I know.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my metropolis. You know, forever I love Atlanta. This is a cry from frustrations and constructive criticism than just some mean-spirited critique. This solution is simple, as most solutions are. Atlanta, do the right thing. No, not just like the Spike Lee film, but really do the right thing. Pay for services. Book artists that make good music, built their buzz, and have good live performances. Support others, no matter how big or small their goals are, if you like what they’re doing. Stop riding the coattails of people just because they might one day be famous. If you’re older and more experienced, stop using the eagerness of younger and less experienced people as a way to source free labor. (Want a general rule? If you can’t afford two employees, you can’t afford one intern.) Be altruistic about business, sometimes. It doesn’t hurt to help someone or guide them just because it’s the good thing to do without having a big payback to be returned. Don’t steal ideas, this city is entirely too small to copy your fellow Atlanta brethren. Be good at what you do. There are so many people in Atlanta trying to reach their goals, don’t add to the clutter if you haven’t taken the time to perfect your craft. You’re getting in the way. Being a follower is amazing. Everyone isn’t meant to be a leader and usually the best leaders follow. It’s okay to help somebody or be part of something special that you believe in than just wanting to steer your own sinking ship just because you’re afraid you might not get as much recognition. Give props when they’re due. You never know where someone may advance to in their career and they might just remember your kind words, besides its nice. Hire the right people. If you can’t write, don’t write. If you can’t produce, don’t produce. If you can’t design, don’t design. If you’re representing Atlanta with a half-ass website, song, or whatever the case might be, you’re representing the city poorly and making it just that much more difficult for all of us to get recognition and be taking seriously. Step up to the plate or fall back. That goes for everything. Some do-it-yourself projects come out swell, but a lot just end up making Atlanta look even more cheap and laughable.
See, it’s really just doing the right thing. Atlanta, we’re not a New York or L.A. We’re hardly a solid community with a creative face, even after our Cee-los, Andre 3000s, Janelles, and etc. We’re still proving we’re more than ‘crank that’ dances and A hats. We still have to prove that we are a progressive and creative city with a distinct attitude and taste unique from anywhere else in the world. It’s our first responsibility to build a place where people will actually care about what we like artistically, what we wear, what we create, what we listen to, and who we are. I dream of a day where my manic metropolis could turn into a creative utopia. In fact, I know it can, if we just stop the bullshit and do what’s right.
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Myles Johnson
I’m an artist (by the way of writing and creative direction in music and fashion) born in New York City, currently living in Atlanta, Ga that enjoys being observed and exploited, so I’m hardly a rarity.