Happy New Year, ya’ll! I really missed writing for you.
Here’s a question that I receive a lot:
“If you could do anything else other than music, would you?”
I usually brush it off and say “something-something finance” or “something-something business.”
But, when I really think about it, I do not know if I want to do anything other than music.
I picked up the viola at age 12, and I haven’t been able to put it down. Nothing in this world gives me more satisfaction than playing the viola.
I am going to die one day.
Choosing to spend my limited time on Earth playing the Viola feels like the right thing to do.
It feels like I am meant to do it. This is why I refuse to do anything else.
My WHY for being a musician—even after all these years—is this:
I want to discover how far I can take the art of viola playing.
Why Do You Play Music?
If you have the time, reply to this email and tell me. I would love to hear your stories. =)
22 years of living as a musician has taught me 3 things:
Music makes people happy. Your “worst” performance can totally make someone’s day.
Perfection is a lie. Showing up is the only thing that nets you points.
The musician is the art. The growth, the struggle, the risk—all of these things sculpt a musician like clay. A musician is a work of art that changes with time, and you can witness it right from your phone screen.
Here’s a quick story to illustrate these points:
One hot summer day in 2016 or 2017, I was busking at 59th St Columbus Circle with some friends. We were playing on the loud platform between the BDF and ACE trains. As usual, people were pretending like we didn’t exist, and that was fine by me. I had been busking for 2 or 3 years at the point, so I numb to indifference.
I did not want to be there, and it seemed like most of the commuters did not want us there either.
After my quartet finished a particularly shitty rendition of Eine Kleine Nachtmusic, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
I wheeled around to see a tiny lady with tears in her eyes. I will never forget what she said:
“Today has been the worst day of my life. I am having a terrible time of it. But your music—you all—you have made my day so much better. Thank you for being here.”
Look, I have played Eine Kleine literally hundreds of times since high school. I have played SO MANY imperfect performances of this piece. Weddings, dinner parties, busking in subways, high school orchestra clinics, summer festivals, reading parties—I played this piece everywhere.
99% of the time, this piece crashes and burns because people go on autopilot. I hate this piece. Every time I see the music on my stand, I get sick to my stomach.
And at the same time, this imperfect performance made someone cry.
This is when I learned that music isn’t about ME. It is about the listener. My opinions about our performance literally did not matter. It still changed someone’s life.
Music is about service. Every time you show up, you have the opportunity to do amazing things.
There’s nothing like it.
So, there you have it. This is why I am *STILL* a musician.
It is 2025, and it has been 11 years since I obtained my first music degree.
For the past 4 years, I have made close to 6-figures as a full-time freelance musician.
Every year, I start back at $0 and I have an empty calendar. This lifestyle is very stressful, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Here’s what I hope to achieve this year:
I am a huge believer in building in public. Here are a few goals that I have set for myself this year.
I want to develop new relationships luxury brands like Cartier.
I want to eliminate task-switching in my workflow. More focus and more impact.
I want to write 6 new arrangements for wholesoul and release them this year.
I want to learn and practice new types of scales every single day this year. No excuses.
I am looking forward to sharing more stories with you in 2025.
Bye for now,
Drew
How many different kinds of scales are there?
Hmmm... would the Hanon piano exercises count as scales?
This is a cool idea.