A Metropolitan Guide: A Farewell
Back in the early days of my songs (2009-2011), I recorded and performed under my own name --Brian Davis. I released two EPs (three if you count the terrible EP of covers prior) before moving into band life for a couple of years. When the band disbanded and my next batch of songs came around, I felt a pull to come up with a stage name; a name that might help me stand out from the other ten million Brian Davises of the world.
In the winter of 2012, I landed on 'A Metropolitan Guide.'
The name came from a few places. First, the name itself came from a mislabeled YouTube video of Tom Waits' song, "Metropolitan Glide." Afterward, it was Erin Belieu's poem, "When at a Certain Party in NYC" that I read in a poetry class. This didn't specifically contribute to the name itself, but the setting and speed of the poem helped give rise to my own poem that I named, perhaps expectedly, "Metropolitan Guide.". The original poem was longer, more meandering, and more rapid fire like "When at A Certain Party in NYC." The version here --the published one-- is shorter and sharper. The poem told the story of a tour guide who only ever gave tours of places no one cared about, and certainly never asked for.
I started thinking it would be a good stage name. I flirted with "The Metropolitan Guide," but thought it had the sound of someone who takes himself way too seriously, of which I am only partially guilty. I made the switch to "A Metropolitan Guide" and it felt right. I'm not the guide for you or your (musical) life, but I could be a guide.
What followed was 12 years, eight albums, two EPs, dozens of shows, and the rise and fall of the belief that my songs were destined for much beyond the walls of my home. But with the stakes getting lower by the year, I just settled into the name. It was mine; it was something that ten million other people didn't also have.
And then on an unremarkable afternoon I got an email that said my domain name was about to expire. I hovered over the "renew" button, but started to wonder if this name served much of a purpose anymore. Had it given me more recognition? Had it been responsible for the songs getting better? Had it done much of anything beyond my own personal satisfaction?
The answer was mostly no. This name meant something to me; it will always mean something to me. Even now, it continues to encapsulate what I feel about the role my songs might play in the lives of those around me and beyond: tours you never asked for, but at the ready to reveal themselves to whomever is willing to take a few minutes to wander down their streets.
I decided that truth could continue on regardless of what I was calling myself --for the record I have never once formally referred to myself as "a metropolitan guide," in case there was any question on just how insufferable I might be.
Over an hour or two, I went in and edited each of my album covers, website pages, and distribution services and said goodbye to A Metropolitan Guide; the world never much knew that person, and now likely never really will. But I will, and I am forever grateful for all the musical shenanigans that I accomplished while working under its banner.
You can now find all of my music under Brian J. N. Davis on all music services. I hope you'll listen, and I hope you enjoy. They are the best tours I can offer.