I'm Not Madonna

Hello Family!

We're gonna kinda take a little detour for the blog this time. Instead of telling you what I've been up to as of this moment I'm going to tell you how I got to this point so far. While I'm not going to tell you my life story, I am going to tell you (in a very condensed blog-like manner) how I got here.

So let's all pile into the "way back machine" (20 points if you get that reference) and go a little further back in my history to give you some sort of context.

At the beginning of this journey we find me in New York City. Fresh off the (figurative) bus with a suitcase by my side and a dream in my heart I stepped into the heart of Times Square. But not only did I have a dream in my heart I had a plan. I was 25. I was giving myself 5 years to go from an unknown to the heights of superstardom. Why 5 years?

Because that's how long it took Madonna.

"Yeah, but you're no Madonna!" I can hear some of you say. And you're right. But tell that to a 25 year old who was bound and determined to BE the next Madonna instead of charting his own course and you'd get a look of confusion. Or anger. More than likely a combination of both. "Whaddya MEAN I'm no Madonna?!?! Are you saying I have no talent? Are you saying I have no drive? Are you saying I have no determination? Are you saying I won't work my ass off so that EVERYBODY knows my name? Because if that's what you're saying , then I have two words you should get used to hearing:

FUCK YOU!!!"

See the thing is although I had - and still have - talent, drive, determination, and the willingness to work my ass off, I hadn't come into my own yet. I didn't know what the hell I was doing. All I I knew was I had a plan. And I'd even worked it out to the detail:

Year One: Move into hostel, get a temp job working in an office. Go from temp position to full time position. Save as much money as possible. End of year one, move out of hostel and into my own cute apartment ala "Friends" and "Sex and the City".

Year Two: Now settled into the day job and bills getting paid on time, start singing at open mic nights and auditioning everywhere. At the end of year two, land a regular gig singing at a cabaret somewhere in Chelsea or the West Village.

Year Three: Quit day job and create a following for myself in the cabaret circuit in NYC and around the East Coast. At the end of Year Three find a really good Broadway agent.

Year Four: Land a supporting role on Broadway. I didn't have to be the star of the show because a) that's not how Barbra did it and b) I had bigger fish to fry. At the end of year four finish my successful run on Broadway, stellar reviews and all, and head to the studio.

Year Five: Industry buzz around town is that I would be releasing a CD that year. But what no one knows and what I kept under serious legal wraps is that instead of it being what everyone expected - yet another album of Broadway standards - I'd release a CD of pure dance pop music. In the summer of year five I'd release my CD and because it was good music and it was excellently produced and because I had worked my ass off I would sell MILLIONS of copies and be shot into the stratosphere of superstardom.

Now to the outsider looking into my head they'd think, "Well that's a REAL round about way of getting from point A to point B." But there was a method to my madness. Bear with me and it'll make sense, I promise.

To this day I worship Madonna. I look up to her in so many ways. She inspires me to, if nothing else, work my ass off for my dreams. She certainly did and despite the odds has achieved a level of stardom few have before or ever will again. But the one thing it took her close to 20 years in the business to get was a little respect from the music community. She could sell millions upon millions of CDs, sell out shows from here to Timbuktu on a consistent basis, and become an icon for the ages, but until her "Ray Of Light" CD dropped the music snobs weren't giving her any kind of respect.

Well I wasn't going out like that.

I've been singing in some way my entire life. I've been dancing for as long as I can remember. I've been front row center grabbing the mic in every choir, band, music group you could think of, basking in the glory of the limelight for as long as I can remember. Hell, I love music so music I got a bachelor's degree in it. Say what you will about me but, much like Cartman, you will "respect my musical authority". And in my head the only way to garner that "respect" was to earn my stripes in "legitimate" music. Then when they (who is "they", anyway?) collectively finally said, "Hey, that kid's got talent!" that's when I would make that left turn and do what I wanted to do musically. And I'd do it so well that they would have NO CHOICE but to respect me in any area I chose to go musically.

Good plan, right? Oh wait. It didn't quite work out that way.

There are more than a few problems with that plan. The first glaring problem is, to borrow an idea from AA, no matter what you do life works on life's terms not yours. You can plan your life out to the smallest detail. But after you put that plan into action you step off the curb and you'll get hit by a bus. Or you get pregnant and decide to keep the baby. Or you fall in love. Or other priorities take control and you have no choice but to play the game the way life wants it played.

The second is I'm not Madonna. Yes it is true that from the time she was dropped off in Times Square until she released her first single "Everybody" was around five years. Still, as much as I worship her, that wouldn't be my experience. Her life will never be mine, her experiences will never be mine, and how she got from point A to point B will never be how I traverse those same points. Why? Because much like her song from her "Hard Candy" CD, "She's Not Me". She is uniquely her. And I am uniquely me. Our circumstances may mirror each other from time to time, (if I'm insanely lucky and blessed and constantly work my ass off) but step away from that mirror and suddenly we're different people again.

But at 25 you couldn't tell me anything. I was gonna be the next Madonna, dammit! And there was NOTHING anybody could tell me that would ever get me to think any different. If it took Madonna five years to make it, then goddammit it would take me five years.

So fresh off the (figurative) bus I set about my plan. And was immediately dealt life lessons that would take me close to five years in NYC to figure out. Life works on life's terms, not mine. And I'm not Madonna. I have to be Stephen. But first I had to figure out just who the hell Stephen was and is. Then once I figured out who Stephen was (I'm still on that journey, by the way) then I could start to make a CD that will eventually shoot me into the stratosphere of superstardom.

I tell you this story because it ties into the name of my CD: "Introducing... ME". But more than that, it's a cautionary tale to anyone who will listen. The people that stick around in this business we call music are the people that are unique. They have a voice all their own. They're the folk who know who they are and are comfortable in their own skin. People who aren't afraid of what "they" may or may not think. Those that know that no matter how many accolades you may rack up or how much "respect" you get for your musical prowess, when it comes to you there will ALWAYS be those with a look on their faces like they just smelled the nastiest fart ever. In order to survive this business for longer than 15 minutes you absolutely HAVE to know who you are, stand your ground and be proud. Come what may.

No, I'm not Madonna. I'm Stephen. And I'm JUICY!

Take it for what it is and do your own thing.

Peace.

-Stephen