I signed a big record deal and I thought I

I signed a big record deal and I thought I made it. I had no idea what was in store for me. – Huff Post

I always wanted to be a musician and singer. It’s in my blood. My parents are both classically trained musicians. When I was 4 years old, my parents knew that I would become a musician because I was already playing and harmonizing the piano by ear at the age of 3. I started studying both opera and piano classically at the age of 7.

Of course there was no iPad back then and I grew up in the middle of a corn field. I was incredibly talented, but my main entertainment was the piano in my parents’ living room and a full-length mirror in which I played “singer” most nights after school.

I spent my childhood in choirs, singing lessons and musicals. This continued well into my teens when I embarked on the classical path and eventually received a bachelor’s degree in opera performance. My course was set until my best college friend Melissa committed suicide on New Year’s Eve. She was only 19. We had a birthday together and I couldn’t believe she was gone.

At that point I hadn’t thought about making albums or writing songs or any of that record deal business. I really wanted to get a master’s degree in opera from Indiana University. Instead I wrote my first song called “Melissa” for her funeral and performed it to 900 very confused and scared teenagers and devastated families. Her death hit me hard and made me reconsider everything I had planned for myself.

After graduating from high school, I decided not to do my master’s degree. Instead, I wrote more songs at home, played gigs in and around Chicago, and worked with a great engineering student from DePaul University on my first album, Mystery, Magic and Seeds. I even spent some time in Nashville trying to make a difference there. I really wanted to move to Los Angeles and officially try my hand at being a singer/songwriter, but I had no idea how to do it and I didn’t have the money to make it happen.

Exactly one year after Melissa died, my uncle Mike was killed in a car accident. He never had children and was my biggest supporter in the arts – he often drove me to musical auditions and singing performances on television. He also acted in theater and sang. Uncle Mike left me enough money to buy a small car and pay a year’s rent in a small apartment in LA. My parents couldn’t afford to give me more money, so I had to make Uncle Mike’s present for the last time – and the clock was ticking. I still think of Melissa and Uncle Mike every time I go on stage. Both were artists. For me, both were the catalysts that changed my life.

Open Image ModalThe author at the piano at the age of 3.

Courtesy of Charlotte Martin

My freshman year in LA I was afraid to drive anywhere, so every day I drove to Insomnia, the nearest safe-looking (and pretty adorable) coffee shop. That’s where I wrote my second album, One Girl Army. I spent my days writing lyrics and socializing with the other artists and people I met. My year (and money) was coming to an end, and I knew I really had to push my career forward or nothing would happen. Unfortunately nobody in the industry knew about me. I didn’t have a demo to shop. It looked bleak.

I decided to put all my balls—the contacts I made at that little café—in one basket: a display case. The people I met went out of their way to help me make it a reality. A friend helped me book the show at a closed strip club in West Hollywood. Another friend made flyers. I was so confident that I could do it that I got a credit card (much to my parents’ dismay) and bought a baby grand for the show. And I did it – the place was packed and I nailed my performance. People took notice.

Four months later I was signed to Beck’s label, Bong Load Records, and recorded “One Girl Army” with Tom Rothrock, who believed in me before anyone else in the business. Soon there was a bidding war between Elektra, Epic, Warner Records, RCA and DreamWorks. I ended up signing a five-album deal with RCA and a publishing deal with DreamWorks.

Then nothing. Nothing has happened. I finished my album with Tom and waited a year before I was officially told that my distribution deal had collapsed. After that I was in limbo for two years before I could start recording my next album. Thankfully, Marty, my amazing booking agent, believed in me and let me open up to everyone and their mom while I waited for my recording career to really take off.

It was a dark time for me. I was constantly worried about running out of money, getting kicked off my label, and being sent home to Illinois without getting the opportunity to do what I dreamed of.

I really wanted to be able to make music. I cared less about crazy fame – I definitely didn’t want to be a one-hit wonder – and much more about longevity. I wanted to create a job that would last and be involved with music until I retired, just like my father.

Eventually, a sympathetic British record executive named Ashley Newton became my label’s head of A&R and flew to LA to listen to me from my tiny – but incredibly expensive – West Hollywood rental. I played “Your Armor”, a new song, for him, and that’s what officially green-lighted my recording.

I was given a huge budget of $500,000 to make On Your Shore, which was going to be my first album for my label. I have worked with Craig Armstrong, David Campbell, LA Philharmonic, Scottish Symphony, Joey Waronker (REM and Beck) and Justin Meldal-Johnsen (Paramore, Tori Amos, Beck, NIN, M83). My now ex-husband Ken Andrews produced and mixed the album.

When it finally came out, it felt like the dream was about to come true. I had finally achieved what I had worked so hard for. The world finally heard my music and I was hooked.

Unfortunately, that feeling didn’t last long.

I toured with the record for about eight months before my label stopped promoting On Your Shore. They didn’t release a second single or push me on pop radio. Instead, after some insider politics was leaked, I learned that they wanted me to start recording my second record, which would not be released for several years.

I didn’t want to wait – I wanted to make music and take it out into the world immediately. So I asked my label to dump me, took the money, bought a house and a bigger piano, and booked my first headlining tour called Darkest Hour after releasing an EP of the same name. I only made $600 from this tour, but I was so proud that I made it without industry support. I wanted to realize my dream alone.

I then independently released and toured with two more releases before signing my third record deal which included starting my own label Dinosaur Fight Records with my then-husband through Universal/Fontana.

I released my fourth album Stromata. It included the song “The Dance,” which blew up after being featured in the reality TV competition So You Think You Can Dance. I never expected this song – or any of my songs – to be so welcomed by the dance community, but that has led to me now officially making music for the dance community as thousands of dancers around the world still follow my music dance. It has also introduced my music to millions of listeners that I would not have reached otherwise.

Between 2006 and 2007 I released nine projects and kicked my ass off. I’ve had some big wins with Jason Mraz, Howie Day and Liz Phair. I had more music on So You Think You Can Dance. But man, I had to bang it out and push, push, my music whenever and wherever I could. In my 20’s and 30’s I toured all over the country because I believed in the music and wanted it to reach as many people as possible.

I didn’t have a big label to support or promote me. It was just me and it was hard. Harder than hard. No matter how hard I worked or how much I believed in music—and in myself—I never made it to superstardom. It just didn’t happen.

I kept writing and making music, but I also had two children on the side. After that it was more difficult to find the time for music and I was lucky if I could devote more than six hours a week to it. After the birth of my first baby, my son Ronen, in 2008, I developed a neurological condition from the epidural that I had dubbed Arachnoiditis, and I was unable to perform or play the piano for almost a year. I documented the searing pain – and the havoc it caused in my life – on my next album, Dancing on Needles, released in 2011.

Despite all the obstacles – whether from the industry or my own body – I kept going. I kept releasing music and touring whenever I could, but it wasn’t like it was when I was younger. I had been through so much – much of it incredible, but much of it difficult and grueling – and I wasn’t sure what lay ahead. All I knew was that music was always there for me, and no matter what I did or where I went, I needed it in my life.

As my body slowly recovered from the nerve pain and my second baby, Stella, was getting a little older, I thought about going back to teaching. As a teenager I had a small singing studio and was teaching over 35 students at the same time, but I worried that no one would want me as a teacher anymore. I wasn’t in shape as an opera singer and I wasn’t really active as a singer/songwriter either.

I scrapped the idea and released another album, 2017’s Rapture, but I really thought I was done. I thought my career was over. I was proud of what I was creating and I loved playing for people, but I didn’t have the reach I wanted and I didn’t know if I would ever get there. I kept asking myself, “What am I doing? and “Who am I doing this for?” I did not know it. i was lost

Open Image ModalThe author sings the aria “Der Hölle Rache” from Mozart’s Queen of the Night at the age of 21.

Courtesy of Charlotte Martin

Despite my confusion and despair, I knew two things for sure. I loved being a mom – that was my main job from 2009-2018 – but as the kids got older they needed me less and less. I also knew that I loved music and would be empty inside if my life didn’t revolve around it.

I thought about writing a book called UN-Training about how to transition from signing operatic music to pop music, but then I thought why not just start teaching? I still wasn’t sure who would come to my class or how I would do it, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to do it. So I called my manager Lisa Lombardo and we opened Something Like A Voice Lesson, which I named after one of my early songs, Something Like A Hero, and my first documentary, Something Like A DVD. I called it that because not only was it a nod to where I came from—the career I was so proud of—but I wasn’t quite sure what it was either. It started out as a kind of vocal studio, but then it quickly morphed into songwriting coaching, piano lessons by ear and artist development.

Once I got started, the students started showing up and I loved every minute of the lesson. I was able to share what I knew – everything I had learned and done over the last four decades – and I got to make music every day. Suddenly I got calls to produce artists too.

A dream became reality. Maybe not the dream I originally had all those years ago – but that’s how life works, right? You never know where you’ll end up or what the landscape will be like when you get there. Those who are smart and courageous can balance their passion and drive with the practical, and with a bit of luck, good things can happen. You may look very different than you expected, but I believe that discovery and surprises along the way are part of the adventure.

I now have a music school called Something Like A Music School because we offer a little bit of everything including a small label. I teach singers, songwriters and pianists and work with people all over the world in 14 different countries.

I’ve also broadened my own approach to music and am currently writing my own book on singing methods. At the Songwriting Conservatory I produce and write with a handful of students. I’m also starting touring again and the shows will feature songs from a series of upcoming EPs and my upcoming 19th album which will include all the songs I wrote with my amazing students. Some of the students are even featured on my album and some of them also release different versions of our songs (some with my production).

Open Image Modal“I would never turn down a super hit if it showed up on my doorstep. I thought that was the dream. But looking back on my life now, I realize that was only part of the dream,” the author writes.

Courtesy of Erin Russell Photography

I would never have turned down a super hit if it showed up on my doorstep. I thought that was the dream. But looking back on my life now, I realize that that was only part of the dream. Yes, maybe it was the biggest and loudest part in a long time, but the truth is I’ve had so much success. I’ve had music in big films, played sold-out shows across North America, opened and sang and written songs with some of the most talented legends in the business (Carole King will always be one I’m grateful to have worked with). .

But I was also so down during that time. I struggled with imposter syndrome. I compared myself to other artists and when I didn’t have what they had I felt down and struggled with anxiety and depression. The music industry is a tough place to live and I realized I didn’t have to do it their way to make a difference.

I also realized that I had many other successes – the kind that really matter. Like working for myself. Being a mother to two incredible children. Heard from fans around the world telling me how important my music is to them – how it got them through the hard times and was there during the best of times. How can you want more? And now that I’m the mentor, producer, coach, teacher and songwriter for all of these new people in my life, I realize that I literally did what I set out to do. I’ve been an artist all my life and whether it’s big splashes or small wins, it’s in my blood and it will never leave me.

And I’m just warming up.

Throughout her career, Charlotte Martin has recorded both major label and independent releases, performed sold out shows to audiences around the world and shared stages with the likes of Liz Phair, Pete Yorn, Damien Rice, Jason Mraz and many others. Her music has been licensed for a variety of television shows, including So You Think You Can Dance, which regularly features her song “The Dance” to open the show. Details magazine called her “a seductive performer” and “a skilled lyricist who writes with surgical precision,” and Performing Songwriter praised Martin as a “born storyteller and touching singer.” Martin is now recording her 19th album co-writing with students from her music school and eagerly returns to the live stage with a double set in every city, promising to play fan favourites, beloved singles, brand new music and maybe sneak cover Do a cover or two before closing each night. For more information, including upcoming tour dates, visit her website and follow her on Instagram. Twitter and Facebook.

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