Anyone out there attempting the big dream of “making it” in music knows how enticing it seems to be able to play a show in New York City at (insert name here) lounge/bar/club – that is, until it’s 2 a.m. and you’re still not home. You’re alone on the PATH train surrounded by a handful of drunks who spent their evening partying and having fun with their friends. You sit and stare at them wishing you were as drunk but knowing you still have a 45-minute drive after you get off the train.
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