"We fear change..." - Garth, 'Wayne's World'So it's 8:30PM and I'm waking up now. Reason being I just spent 5 days in Germany observing the Blue Man Group load-in at their new venue in Berlin (across the street from the old venue). [And this after a weeklong fun-fest at the NAMM show in Anaheim. Setting up a booth and standing on cement floors talking about gear with reps, dealers, and "end-users" (read: hopeful rockers who want free stuff) may sound like a fun way to spend a week to some, but not me...]That's about a 1:5 travel:visit ratio, and it will f#ck your sh#t up, biological clock-wise. I would not normally play such mean tricks on my body chemistry, but I was doing myself and my soon-to-be employer a favor by getting a quick lay of the land. Yes, I am turning my back on friends, bands, a steady job, mortgage, the Pacific Ocean, and 10 years of Calfornia Dreamin' for a change of pace, namely the Big Apple.I grew up on the East Coast, so I know how cool New York is. Even so, I never really wanted to live there. I mean, who wants to live in a closet? I have 1,100 square feet here, enough room to toss the ball for the puppy, enough ceiling height to keep the longboards upright, and a lemon tree in my front yard. Why leave? My cost of living will certainly go up, and it's not like I'm getting a huge raise. Why do it? The weather is worse, it's more crowded, and you can't get good produce. What gives?I kept asking myself this question while watching the Blue Man previews last week, trying not to doze off from jetlag, over and over again, those three eager Germans in face paint and black getups, a theater full of techs, directors, and producers, focusing on every little detail. What is it about this process that is appealing to me? Why get involved in what could legitimately be described as a precious, hipster, in-group aesthete party?For me, I think it starts from the music. The show is not only about the music, of course, but that almost makes the music more noticeable. Instead of a lyric narrative that tries to explain, the music provides an extension, a mirror and another layer to what is happening onstage, a more approachable sonic counterpoint to the overriding "Huh?" that the Blue Men sometimes represent (at least for me). Maybe you could say that the music holds your hand, and then the Blue Men stick it into a bowl of paint. BMG builds many of its own instruments, debates incessantly about mic choice, amplifier choice, lighting settings, and has a specific and closely-guarded performance practice, handed down from one generation of performer to the next. Not just the Blue Men, but bands, techs, and at FOH as well. Theirs is a personal rulebook, developed onstage and in-use; very specific, and requiring careful attention, but so thematic as to be readily expanded as needed, either for new material or new audiences.I think it is ultimately the committment to something specific and undefinable - - a pursuit of excellence, even if it is an excellence that is semi-invisible and mostly inscrutable to the audience - - that makes me interested. Instead of comforting repetition, this move promises dynamic, confusing, and challenging surroundings. Instead of the guaranteed change driven by product and market trends, I will surround myself with the guaranteed change driven by the human need to dress up in costume, make a mess, and beat the living shit out of a drum. Instead of a peaceful, pleasant, and predictable existence, I am throwing the deck in the air and grabbing my cards out at random. This move is all about change and not knowing.And REAL bagels.