Out of the Blue
November, 2003
“Don’t confuse the art with the artist.”
You always hear it. You always try to heed it. In a world where many of our highest paid musicians make a habit of floating in and out of prison or rehab clinics as often as a recording studio, such axioms allow us the guilt-free enjoyment of an unsettling number of Billboard’s current top residents. But is such separation, while clinically safe and legally sound, actually robbing us of an integral part of the musical experience? Can you ever fully appreciate the creation while at the same time completely discounting the creator? Isn’t it the very nature of art to stimulate, frustrate and challenge the audience? Perhaps. In the end though, it all comes down to perception. It all comes down to art.
Sometimes, though, an artist will come along who makes it
nearly impossible to separate the two, even if you wanted to.
One such artist is Donovan Lyman of O-Town rock staple Blue Meridian.
Not in a long while has Orlando had an artist with such a polarizing
effect on the music scene. His
fans; abundant and loyal. His
detractors; steadfast and verbal. Like every band, Blue Meridian has had its ups and downs.
But unlike other bands, it
seems that every move they make is mired in controversy: fan awards, national
tours, radio-play, the revolving roster of band members, and the oft-talked
about indie label deal…Until recently these things have been argued about on
local message boards to the point where discussions have become little more than
insult competitions between the two factions.
Things have finally cooled off, however, and although the
band has since been spending most of its time on the road and in the studio, the
old days have left their mark on the singer/songwriter.
With any band you can expect a certain amount of backlash. There are professional rivalries, misunderstandings and times when you just don’t like a person. Donovan theorizes that much of the enmity has stemmed from the fact that no band can stay on top year after year without eventually going national. The declining buzz simply ushers in a changing of the guard. He also feels that Minerva, the band’s newest album had suffered from it. “It was a combination of things,” he muses, “it seemed sometime in the last half of 2002 we lost a lot of support from the local music scene. Not so much among the fans, but elsewhere. There was a great deal of irresponsible press and it seemed to divert people's attention from us.” He goes on, saying, “Minerva was by far our best album, but we got more label interest from Bleeding on the Guardrail [BM’s third effort], which was barely good enough to release. It was more of an album for the Die Hard Blue Meridian fan. We never thought it would win us new fans and certainly not industry attention.
It’s never long before “industry
attention” rears its ugly head. So
elusive is this goal, that most indie bands may just as well pawn their
equipment and invest in lottery tickets. Isn’t this the benchmark of a good
band? Donovan disagrees.
“It’s unfortunate, but people gauge the success or failure of a group
on how quickly they score a recording contract. After awhile they
think...‘hmm, if they're really that good, they should have been signed by
now.’ Most people don't know that
we've passed on a major label offer. Donovan
would rather take his chances unsigned than ink the wrong contract.
He admits, “look at how many bands from around here, have been signed,
ignored by their label then dropped, and now they're over.
I'm not anxious to be over. My
best work is ahead of me.”
What lies ahead of Donovan may also
include a drastic change of pace for the veteran rocker. “Since the release of
Minerva in December,” Donovan
states, “I starting writing songs for me again. When I removed the pressure to
find the "big hook", and just wrote what I felt, the songs came very
quickly.” Since March Donovan has written nearly 20 songs and has finally
reached a point where he had to stop. Donovan adds, “I just had so many songs.
I looked back on them and realized I had written my best stuff without even
trying. I had to record them. They are much mellower and more organic than the
previous stuff. The guitar
doesn’t have to knock you out of your chair; it can be a beautiful instrument
too.”
By comparing this new approach with
the eclectic, hook-laden and sometimes melancholy Minerva, Donovan comments, “Minerva
is terrific on many levels, but when you boil it down, it's merely a collection
of songs. [This time] I wanted to make an album that read like a book with the
songs being chapters.... It’s much more personal this way.
I couldn't write passionately about someone else’s life.
I have enough jarring experiences of my own and I’m all too familiar
with them. It's very autobiographical.”
The tone of the new album isn’t the only change to expect.
After 9 years of serenading the city beautiful, the southern rocksmith is
looking west. “I never thought
I'd be in one place this long. In
March we did a tour of California, it wasn’t my first time playing there, but
this time it certainly left a mark on me. It was refreshing winning over new
audiences like that, getting so much positive feedback, at a time when, back in
Orlando, I was some old hat.” Decisively,
Donovan adds, “It reminded me that my success and the merit of my work should
never be determined by the personal agendas of booking agents, journalists and
other industry people placing all their stock in the latest trend.
I hated doubting the viability of my music and its ability to move
people. I don’t do that
anymore.”
When can fans and foes alike expect
this migration? Well, that all
depends on the art. “I'm going to
finish this album. I'm not going to
rush it. It's too important and I'm
not under any pressure to release it. When
it's complete, I'm leaving and taking it with me.”
Thus begins the final leg of Blue
Meridian’s Orlando journey; simultaneously familiar and altogether alien.
If it’s true that the ultimate purpose of art is to stimulate, then any
reaction, either positive or negative, should be considered a success and the
only true artistic failure is for the art to be ignored.
And if that’s true, then Donovan Lyman is a very successful man.
Over the years, Donovan Lyman has left an indelible mark on this city; at once stimulating, frustrating and challenging. Separating the art from the artist can give you a new perspective on it, but never the whole picture…because sometimes the two are one in the same. But then, that’s just one opinion. It’s up to the audience to decide for themselves. In the end, it all comes down to perception. It all comes down to art.