Stories from the Edge of Music #55: THREE GOOD ARTISTS — AND WHY THEY QUIT

Walking away from the business of music

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NOBODY PRETENDS THAT THE MUSIC BUSINESS IS EASY. HERE’S HOW AND WHY THESE THREE GOOD PEOPLE QUIT

Independent musicians have an extremely difficult task getting their careers started. Since agents and managers work on a percentage of an artist’s income, it’s hard to build a support team — a percentage (10 or as much as 18 per cent) of a new artist’s tiny income is, well, even tinier.

But getting started is one thing. Continuing is often much, much harder. Here are three true stories from three well-regarded Canadian artists, who were asked, simply, “why’d you quit?”

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This artist tells her own story

Roxanne Potvin built a career as a blues-oriented guitarist and singer who transitioned — as her career moved forward — to writing and singing contemporary pop. She toured endlessly in Canada and the U.S., as well as in Europe; she recorded half a dozen albums.

Today she lives in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia, and works as an editor of French-language podcasts.

When I asked her why she ended her music career, she said: “Can I write that story myself?” So, here’s the thoughtful note she sent to share with you.

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By ROXANNE POTVIN

I quit in 2021. And why I quit was 13 years in the making, and I should have given myself permission to walk away long before then.

I was a very unhappy musician. But completely attached to that identity, and unable, or scared to, imagine another life for myself. The immeasurable joy I had felt as a young musician had vanished a couple of years into my foray as a “pro.”

The pressures, from the outside but especially from within, took a toll on my mental and emotional health.

I was not tough to begin with. And it’s only a few years ago that I started to understand why I was so unwell. It’s a long story.

I quit in 2021, after years of soul searching, questioning and keeping up the facade. Years of self-doubt, crippling self-criticism, heartache, and thinking that if I tried harder, playing and singing would feel good again.

I decided to finally be kind to myself — and walk away from my “dream,” which had felt pretty bad for over a decade. Making music had once given me so much joy and excitement, but it had so quickly become a cruel reminder that I never felt I was good enough.

Walking away was the best thing I could have done. It allowed me to see myself more accurately: as a creative and curious person. I could take those qualities and do whatever I wanted with them. And I started expanding again, instead of feeling stuck.

At that point, I decided that music was something I would only do if it felt joyful — as it once had. And it’s just in the last few months that I can say the joyful feelings have replaced the dread, self-criticism and self-consciousness that plagued me whenever I strummed a guitar or opened my mouth to sing. I honestly never thought that day would come.

Another reason to walk away, more pragmatic but still visceral, is the absolute decimation of the industry by the streaming platforms. Who in their right mind would want to invest heart, soul and life into a business devoid of any monetary value or revenue for the people whose work justifies the very existence of the platforms leeching from them?

The business itself for musicians is completely broken — but we still all have to pay rent and buy groceries. It makes me very sad and very angry to see how far it’s gone, and I can’t continue to be a part of that in good conscience. Yes, my music is still up there — because we make music to share it.

The only rule I have now around making music is: feeling good and giving those good feelings to someone else. Getting paid for it would be nice too.

It took a long time to circle back, but I’m glad I finally did.

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Del Barber: how and why to say goodbye

Barber — now based in a small town two hours from Winnipeg — wrote his bio, back in the day:

“I’m a guitar player and a songwriter. Sometimes I preach, sometimes I rhyme. I know that I will never do anything but this.”

But at the beginning of this year, he wrote something starkly different.

“It is with a great deal of heartache that I am announcing my last tour. I certainly didn’t come to this decision quickly or easily but honestly it just isn’t feasible for me to be a touring musician anymore.

“Don’t get me wrong… I’ve lived a wonderful life travelling the world through song and story. I’m sad to leave it all behind, but it’s time to say goodbye.”

He added that 2025 marked his 20^th year as a touring musician, and 10 years since his album, Prairieography.

“I’ve tried hard to tread softly and respectfully and I hope that I’ve been able to entertain you — hell, even make you feel something down deep.

“There’s been moments of pure joy and of course some really dark days. I don’t want to quit, but here I am quitting. But, before I leave, I’m going out one more time to celebrate 20 years and to say goodbye to all the folks who fuelled this great big dream.”

What’s Del Barber doing now? He and his partner are renovating a restaurant in their small hometown of Inglis, Manitoba — they hope to open in October, and they hope to provide a stage for visiting singer-songwriters.

Will he play there? “My decision was made relatively recently — I honestly don’t know how music is going to fit into my life anymore.”

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Jay Aymar: 12 years on the road

For more than a decade, Jay Aymar did what most musicians only dream of — he played everywhere. Not just the big cities and festival stages, but the small towns, the listening rooms, the bars where the regulars barely look up from their beers.

Bruno, Saskatchewan on Canada Day? He played there three years in a row. Most nights, it was all original material. Other nights, if the situation called for it, he’d throw in a set of familiar covers — because, as every working musician knows, sometimes you do what you have to do to keep the wheels turning.

“I built a small career where I toured all day, every day, and drove from one side of the country to the other — sometimes three times a year,” Jay says. “But eventually, the road wears you down.”

Three years ago, he called it quits. Not that anyone really noticed. “Rodney Dangerfield once said, ‘To give you an idea of how well I was doing, at the time I left, I was the only person who knew I quit,’” Jay laughs, still holding onto the sharp sense of humour that helped him survive a dozen years in the trenches.

The truth is, the lifestyle caught up with him. “I was tired of sleeping in motels, eating shitty food, crashing on friends’ couches. Living a rock-and-roll lifestyle in a folk singer’s body. And the driving — don’t even get me started on the driving.”

What most people don’t talk about, he says, is how hard it is to leave the music business. “It’s hard on the ego. You lose a sense of who you were before. It can be daunting. But I’ll always be writing and singing — for myself, if nothing else. That’s the real reward.”

These days, Jay has what he jokingly calls a “real” job. He works for a book company, gets a regular paycheck, and enjoys a simpler life.

But the stories from his years on the road aren’t fading away. He’s still writing songs, and he’s finished his first screenplay — a comedy series based on his “lost decade” as a travelling musician.

Coming soon to a streaming service near you? Let’s wait and see.

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FIVE MORE SUBSTACKS TO CHECK OUT

Last time, I listed five Substacks that I find myself returning to, time after time. Here are five more that I think you might enjoy following. And next month, there’ll probably be five more.@

Paul Wells

(Paul Wells). A well-informed Ottawa insider talks Canadian politics; thoughtful, well-written, and usually right. This week’s good news: Pierre Poilievre (PeePee to the rest of us) may not become the next prime minister after all. That would be a relief, and if you’re Canadian get out and VOTE!

SHuSH, by Kenneth Whyte

. Alas, nobody writes about the music business in the way that Whyte’s Substack analyzes the world of independent book publishing. Instantly readable and informative, and always offers an intriguing list of other book blogs.

Whore d'ouvres

(Miss Huntt). I have several friends who are, or were, part of the sex work community; they are women with smarts, empathy and (usually but not always) stunning good looks. Felicity Hunt is an exclusive New York escort who writes about her profession with clarity and a freshness that’s endearing.

Orit Shimoni’s Substack

. This Israeli/Canadian singer-songwriter writes as well as anyone you may have discovered on Substack. She now has 20-odd essays here since she started in September 2023, and every one that I’ve read has been questioning, thoughtful, kind, personal and rewarding.

Charlie Angus / The Resistance

. This soon-to-retire Member of Parliament has been both angered and energized by the Orange Idiot’s stated intentions to make Canada the 51^ststate. Charlie’s regular Substack both supports and symbolizes the wave of Canadian nationalism that the fool in the White House has unwittingly engendered.

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NAMING YOUR BAND ISN’T GETTING EASIER

Are the good band names all taken? Think for a moment and ask whether your favourite band’s name reflects the personality of the group, as well as the music? That’s why my most resonant band names include Rush, the Good Lovelies, and (in tribute to Muddy Waters) the Rolling Stones.

Good band names are hard to come up with, and it’s not getting easier. But there’s hope, and what follows are some names of a handful of the 200 bands that’ll appear at the NXNE music conference in June.

Never heard the music of any of ’em, but I hope you agree that they have great (or at least interesting) names:

Absent Theory / Bella Cat / Cold Weather Cat / Con the Artist / Dandelion Highway / Falls for the Elderly / Full Throttle / GODDESS / Harmony on Mars / Juice Joint / Lunch Meat / The Animal Welfare Act / The Jail Birds

At Departure (the oddly renamed Canadian Music Week) being held in May, there’s a smaller roster, but a few bands still earn points for unusual names:

Bangz / Freak Heat Waves / Short Walk to Pluto / (and my favourite) Give My Remains to Broadway

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HERE’S WHAT’S ON THE MENU FOR NEXT TIME

Next time, a guest piece from the music biz guru Bob Lefsetz, plus the usual collection of odds and ends that are part of this Substack every week.

Please note that paid subscribers are always invited to comment on any of the stuff here — bright ideas for new columns make my morning coffee much more relaxing.

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SOFT SELL FOR SUBSCRIBERS

Paid subscribers will retain their $6 monthly donation when I eventually put the price up a little to cope with inflation. Trump’s ill-advised/idiotic tariffs will affect us all in Canada, and when they kick in in the next few weeks, I’ll up the donation fee a little for new participants.