You probably know Bryan Sammis as the frontman of La Bouquet, his solo project Olivver The Kid, or from his days as drummer for The Neighborhood. With the recent release of La Bouquet’s debut album, Sad People Dancing, Sammis has shown the world that being open and honest with one’s feelings and mental health issues is something to admire as the stigma surrounding mental health only grows, despite its rise in awareness.
From La Bouquet to his material for ØV, listeners get the experience of having a trusted friend go through the motions of depression and anxiety with them with the ever-present reminder that we’re all going through this together.
For Sammis and most of us, music – as devastating as the industry can be – has been his escape. It’s funny how the politics of something so joyous can bring those who are a part of it into a downward spiral. We see it from so many angles. We even deal with it ourselves. We can only speak from our perspective, so we asked Bryan to share his in this TDL exclusive guest blog.
From band breakups to some ‘pure heartbreak’ of his own, Sammis shows us that in this industry, peace of mind comes with a price but if you focus on you and your artistry, you’ll learn to look at pain as a positive.
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The Price of Peace of Mind
ØV
Mental health is important. I know that everyone has their struggles and their triumphs within their own psyche, but I want to share a little bit about my own personal rollercoaster ride as it relates to being in the music industry.
Clinical depression is something that affects me everyday – it comes in waves and it comes in different forms. Sometimes it is easy to identify & sometimes it is a spy hiding behind enemy lines that I cannot place. For me, there are levels to identifying, dealing with & overcoming bouts of depression on a daily basis. Some of those levels I’ve learned & overcome since I’ve been dealing with this for years. There are other levels – newer levels that come with my profession.
The music industry is crippling for your self esteem – especially now. Think about it, literally anyone in the world with a computer *can* make a song. (Should they? That’s a whole different conversation). So, above and beyond the love I have for music and my passion for making music, at the end of the day this is also my job, my livelihood, my rent money. Those things shouldn’t dictate happiness but we’d all be lying if we didn’t say that of course it helps. It gives you ease & freedom. Since music is so accessible to make nowadays the “competition” is at an all time high. There is competition with other artists, band mates, managers, labels, show promoters. In an idealistic world these things wouldn’t matter but I’ve seen them affect people. I’ve seen them affect me.
Departing with my old band was truly the hardest time of my life. I tried to kill myself – I am still here. I needed a support system, I needed positive reinforcement, I needed love. There are tremors of that feeling that surface here and there – and I am not one to preach that I know how to deal with or overcome them – but I always have to stop and put it in perspective of where I am and how far I’ve come. The music industry is (not singularly) unique in the sense that things that cause you trauma can oftentimes be things that you continue to see and things that continue to plague your life. This is frustrating but I truly think if you can come out the other side of it, you will come out as a stronger person. Pressure builds diamonds…or so they say. Adversity breeds character. I feel I’ve lived a thousand lives emotionally. Too many ups and downs that “regular” people in “regular” jobs don’t deal with. That comes with it’s obvious negatives – but it also comes with life experience and the chance to turn your pain into art.
Here’s to you – you’re an artist.
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