Career . 02/22/2008 07:02 AM . Levi Weaver

This article is part one of Levi’s series on how he became an internationally-known musician.

Stay in school.

That was the battle cry of every teacher/youth pastor/Cartoon PSA I came into contact with as a kid. Until I was 20 it was also the default answer with “so what’s next for you?” I had no idea what I wanted to be.

I hated high school. It took me all of about 3 weeks into my freshman year to put my finger on precisely why I hated high school: We were treated like children, and expected to act like adults. I wanted to act like a teenager, and be treated like a teenager. But to expect logic in the cattle-call world of public high school is like expecting Music Videos on MTV. You would expect … but no. This logic vacuum extended to the career-placement tests.

There were 100 multiple choice questions, each with four answers, which would correlate with the four main categories of careers they had pre-decided for us. I had the questionnaire figured out after the first couple of questions. Did I want to work with my hands? Did I want to manage? Did I want to teach? Did I want to be a Researcher? Those were pretty much my options.

1. You are in a boat and you see a dolphin. You want to:

1. ) Teach it a trick.
2. ) Figure out dolphin language.
3. ) Devise a plan to put all these lazy dolphins to work.
4. ) Break it with your bare hands.

You could circle more than one, and I made the mistake of comparing the fun level of each of these options with “Stay in School” so I ended up pretty much circling everything, on every question. The results?

“Your interests show that you might be happy as a Doctor, a Mechanic, or a Train Engineer.”

I’m not making this up. If only they had given this option:

E.) SING THE DOLPHIN A SONG THAT WILL MAKE IT SAD.

“Your interests show that you might be happy (term loosely used) as a Morrissey impersonator.”

I would have known right then what I wanted to do with my life. But alas, singer-songwriter isn’t even really considered a profession. Seriously, try filling out any internet form, and you will find that my profession is not even listed.

I worked at a tiny little radio station, whose sole purpose in the world, I believe, was to a) provide me with a pass to interview the Texas Rangers baseball players once or twice a week, and to b) convince me that I wanted nothing to do with being on the radio. I was all alone in a little booth, and if I told a joke (to our demographic of 73-year-old women) there was no immediate laughter. In truth, there was only the occasional critical handwritten letter to the station to inform us that they did not, in fact, laugh at all.

So when the opportunity presented itself to go on a missions trip for the summer, I took it. And when that opportunity extended itself into the fall, I pulled an Office Space, and just never went back. I didn’t officially un-enroll, resign, nothing. I never even e-mailed anyone. I just never went back.

This was living. I saw 19 countries in the 2 years I ended up staying. I learned to play guitar. I learned to sing. And (here’s where it clicked) I learned to do both in front of a crowd. If I told a joke (Assuming they spoke English) they laughed! When I played something they knew, they sang along! (“I cain leeeeve / Weetor weetaaauuuuoooyoooo!”) This was great!!

F.) DO SOMETHING TO MAINTAIN THE DOLPHIN’S FULL ATTENTION.

“Your interests show that you might be happy as a stand-up comedian, motivational speaker, Chris Crocker, or a game-show contestant. Wow. Good luck, young student!”

So here I am, 6 years later. I’ve played a lot of places, some more successfully than others. I’ve lived in England, and I’ve lived in Nashville. I’ve released an EP and a full length Album. I’ve done a North American Tour (supporting Imogen Heap, fall of ’06) and I’ve paid money to see Lifehouse. Heck, I even have an official Facebook fan club. And while I do love it, let me let you in on a little secret:

It’s distinctly unglamorous.

Most of my time now, I spend packing envelopes with press kits, mailing T-Shirts, returning e-mails, letting my chocolate lab out to use the front lawn as her personal porta-potty, and venting my frustration at The Industry, the USPS, VH-1, and Radio.

G.) HURL VERBAL ABUSE AT THE DOLPHIN FOR THINKING “I LOVE NEW YORK 2” IS A BETTER PROGRAMMING CHOICE THAN MUSIC VIDEOS.

“Your interests show that you are now fully qualified to guest-write the occasional internet blog.”

Levi Weaver is a professional musician living in Nashville, Tenn. His first full length album, You Are Never Close to Home, You Are Never Far from Home released in January.


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