ORIANS: You can’t Auto-Tune a local music scene, so enjoy it

One of the most frustrating parts of being a live musician is trying to explain what you do and why. Live music is, unfortunately, dying.

We live in an age where copy-paste pop stars can become multi-millionaires thanks to the support of money-hungry labels, all while lacking any real talent thanks to audio engineering and that damned Auto-Tune software. As long as you have the support of the corporate record companies, you, too, can make bad music and wear poor imitations of Tron-inspired costumes while the world realizes how terrible of a performer you are during the Super Bowl Halftime Show.

So why the hell do I bother? I've been in the same stupid band you've never heard of for five years. I've been on tour across the country and haven't even made a dime making music. Hard work is no longer paying off. How many artists truly deserve the money they make? How many pop acts go into their recording software to edit and mix their synthesizers just right? They have producers to do that for you. Can't sing? Thanks to Auto-Tune, you'll never have to worry about that. Just try your best and technology will do the rest.

What's the incentive? Performance high lasts only so long; not too long after your set, it wears off. I can't even begin to count the amount of empty bars I've played, regardless of promotion, or how many times we begin to set up and everyone in the audience leaves.

Dwayne from the 2006 film "Little Miss Sunshine" says it the best: "You do what you love, and fuck the rest." The only thing that matters in life at all is doing what you want to do.

I put all of my spare time and money into being a musician, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Because of music, I was able to spend my 20th birthday at the National Portrait Gallery in Washington, D.C. Because of music, I have met the best friends of my life and the coolest kids ever. Because of music, I got to celebrate the Chicago Black Hawks winning the Stanley Cup in Chicago the night it happened (it was a tough act to follow).

Music hasn't just given me opportunity. If it weren't for music, I probably would have lost much more of my sanity throughout my college life. It's an outlet for me and everyone else I know to share our voices. Every song I write becomes my most important self-portrait yet; it lets me explore what I am. It is a therapeutic tool that works better than any drug can.

So we scrimp. And we save. And I do all I can to do what I do myself. We screen print patches and shirts. We record as much as we can on our own. We pay for our CD mixing, mastering and production. Some of us move away to a scene that appreciates what we do, while some of us stay and try to make the best of what we have here. And some of us are just plain stuck. But we do what we do as best as we can and have a blast while doing it.

There's nothing better than going to a show. It's probably the highest form of humanity. And I'm not talking about Katy Perry at the Qwest Center — I'm talking about Friday nights at Duffy's, or Thursdays at Knickerbockers. You wake up the next day with a cough from being in close contact with your sweaty best friends, and it's more than worth it.

Your voice is hoarse from singing your lungs out with the crowd and the band. But every minute you had the night before makes it all worth it in the end. The next week, we do it all over again. Shows are the reason I still know how to smile. So get out there and support our local scene, I'm sure you will be more than happy you did.

neilorians@dailynebraskan.com