We were lucky to catch up with Laurel Halsey recently and have shared our conversation below.

Laurel, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. I’m sure there have been days where the challenges of being an artist or creative force you to think about what it would be like to just have a regular job. When’s the last time you felt that way? Did you have any insights from the experience?

I have many happy memories of playing music and everything connected with it, including staying up until 4 am once working on a poster for an approaching tour. I have formed meaningful friendships, reconnected with old pals, visited lovely places, helped design cool merch, discovered depths of creativity I didn’t know were in me, made beautiful music, and played exciting shows. To pay the bills, I’ve been fortunate enough to stumble across “day job” work that I’ve found interesting and enjoyable. Working as a transcriber for deaf and hard of hearing college students allows me to learn new things all the time and strengthen my writing skills while tangibly helping others, pet sitting is a joy because I love animals, and cleaning a VRBO about once a week for supplemental cash is a satisfying gig. I’m grateful for the experiences I’ve had as a musician and as well as for those I’ve had funding my musical endeavors.

However, once upon a time I was seriously contemplating a career in urban planning, which I’m seriously re-contemplating now. I put that goal on the back burner so that I could make a real go of it as a musician, but I always thought I’d revisit it someday. Although I’m not turning my back on music, these days I’m actively applying for jobs, volunteering, and networking in an effort to land a full-time job in the field. It’s my way of honoring a genuine, persistent interest I’ve had for years, one which is only getting stronger the more books I read and events I attend. If a genie granted me one wish, I would wish for a robust public transportation system in America coupled with plentiful pedestrian and cyclist-friendly infrastructure, but since that won’t happen, I’m looking for a non-magic way to help wean our country off its over-reliance on the car.

Also, while I’ve luckily made the semi-entrepreneurial thing work pretty well, relying on multiple income streams can feel a little precarious. Independence and variety have their perks, but as I’m sure any self-employed person or small business owner knows, that life can be stressful, as well. After many years of not having one, I’m craving the reliability of a 9 to 5. This desire may seem to be at odds with the stereotype of the starving artist whose genius is fueled by struggle, but in my experience, stability is actually good for my creativity. I’ll be interested to see what expressions it takes as I make progress on my job goals.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

I sing and play keyboard and accordion; I write songs and parts of songs. Here’s some information about the projects in which I play original music. The band I front is called, simply, The Laurel Halsey Band. I have a growing list of joke band names in a note on my phone, but for my real band I’m finding it easiest just to use my name. My other main musical commitment is a 6-person ensemble called The North Country. It’s the brainchild of my good friend Andrew Grossman, its front man, but at the same time it’s a highly collaborative group. I contribute keyboard parts and vocal harmonies. I also occasionally play accordion and sing backup with my boyfriend, Joshua Curry, an excellent songwriter and multi-instrumentalist in his own right. Every once in a while, someone will ask me to play keys or sing as a one-off guest performer, either on a recording or for a show, and this is always an honor and a treat.

Sometimes I play cover songs at farmers markets, breweries, cafes, and the occasional wedding, as well. I usually play accordion instead of keyboard at these gigs because the accordion is more portable. (Shoutout to Harbor Freight for my hand cart and to Atomic Music for my tiny amp!) I also usually play solo, but sometimes Josh joins me, which is great not only because he has a car but because he’s very good company. I’ve kind of figured out over the years which cover gigs work for me and which don’t. Even though I am fond of the elderly, it turns out retirement home gigs are not my bag, unfortunately. They usually want someone who can do crowd work and play upbeat tunes, while I’m continuously drawn to melancholy ballads. The cover gigs I enjoy the most are ones in which I get enough human interaction that I’m not made to feel entirely invisible but can otherwise just play whatever I want in the background. I like attention just as much as the next performer, but it can also be surprisingly pleasant to blend into the wallpaper; it doesn’t hurt if I’m getting paid, too.

Here’s what I hope is a pretty honest assessment of my strengths as a musician, along with a little background information. I love, love, love to sing. I’m not the best singer you’ll ever hear, but it’s probably safe to say I’m solidly above average compared to the general population. Harmonizing, likewise, is one of my favorite things in life; it’s like doing a fun little math puzzle with your voice. I greatly enjoyed high school choir, I took voice lessons for a bit, and at some point in my 20s I started figuring out how to play covers on piano (as opposed to sheet music, as per my training) so I could accompany myself singing at open mics. Long story short, I started collaborating with other musicians, and lo and behold, at age 27, I finally discovered I could write whole original songs. It was like finding out I had a magical power, albeit one that always requires a substantial investment of time and effort to reveal itself. Songwriting is like being an editor at a magazine. Ideas come across my desk for review, but only a small percentage of them are suitable for publication. I like to think I’m a discriminating editor, even though the ideas I’m evaluating are my own. Lyrics need to feel true, melodies need to feel moving, and while I’m no virtuoso, instrumental accompaniment needs to feel fitting. One of the nicest compliments I’ve ever received is one a good friend of mine gave me recently: she said my songs reflect my growth as a person over the years, which I hope is true.

Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?

I am fighting to tap into my own inner resilience as we speak! I’ve been sitting on an eleven-song album for a long time, multiple years. Last summer I had a goal of recording my parts of the songs – vocals, keys, and hand percussion – by August 31st. Other instruments would be added later. August ended and I had finished ten out of eleven tracks. Close. But rather than running just a few more feet to get to the finish line, I abruptly stopped right then and have barely returned to the project in the past several months. Lately I’ve thought hard about why. I’d really wanted to record at home so I could do as many takes as I needed. I’ve used professional recording studios in the past, which are great in many ways, but when you’re paying by the hour you feel you can only do one or two takes before moving on, even though it’s hard to do your best work, especially vocally, in only one or two takes. So over the summer I recorded tons of takes and was glad to have the freedom to do so, but I still wasn’t thrilled with the results, particularly with how my voice sounded. Disappointment with the outcome of a massive outpouring of effort has a way of dampening one’s motivation to continue. I told myself and others I’d resume, but I kept putting it off. Then recently, I kid you not, Theodore Roosevelt’s “Man in the Arena” speech came up in conversation with my boyfriend somehow, and I realized: I am one of “those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat!” I’d been unwilling to face the discomfort of trying and trying until I was satisfied with the result. Sometimes an initial massive outpouring of effort has to be followed by another massive outpouring of effort. That’s the only way you’ll finish your album. It’s a form of self-care. Just a few days ago, then, I pulled up the album files on my computer and just started listening, noting which tracks need to be redone. It’s not all bad; there’s definitely usable stuff in there. It was a start and it was a relief. I plan to talk to a musical genius friend of mine about producing the thing and to shop around for editing, mixing, and mastering services. Well done is better than well said, I read once, but I’m saying now that the train is again creaking down the track.

Have any books or other resources had a big impact on you?

I get a lot out of other people’s stories. It’s been helpful and instructive for me over the years to learn how others got where they are, what their creative process is like, how they support themselves financially, how they form and maintain positive collaborative relationships with other artists. Being in bands and in a music community more broadly has automatically given me access to such information in the form of conversations at local shows or in car rides to rehearsals or gigs. They say comparison is the thief of joy and there’s certainly a lot of truth in that, but I think there’s a healthy kind of comparison one can engage in. It can be a great way to find out useful information and feel less alone.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.laurelhalseymusic.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/laurelhalseymusic/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/search/top?q=laurel%20halsey
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/laurel-halsey-5704ab28/
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@laurelhalsey8082