Chris Jones

About me:

I am an official member/originator of the Mission Festives, a singer/guitarist playing both solo and in bands, plus a great cook, snappy dresser and a genuinely good human being. I like love and I love life, accept death and am too tired to sleep. I try to keep an open mind, but a good hipster is just so hard to find. Originally I come from the South, but I am Californianized now and prefer silver to gold and dark chocolate to milk chocolate. I drink beer/tea/coffee/wine/whiskey/milk/diet coke. Don't buy me presents for my birthday, and don't tell me you love me.

I have lived in the Mission now for about 4 years and I love the dirty/gritty/real side of San Francisco. For a long time my house and my existence was pretty much a huge party. Things have changed a lot in the past few months, and a lot of people have become partied out, myself included. That doesn't mean I don't want to go to a bar any more or see a great show or hang out and talk about the future. It just means that I get kind of tired of drunk people screaming at me and trying to come in my room at 6am on a Wednesday night. And I'm tired of cleaning up other people's cigarette butts and spilled booze. I'm also weary of people crashing on the floor for weeks without paying rent and sitting around my house doing nothing while I have to hold down a job, play in a band, and actually do something with my life. No offense, but if you're that person it's time to move on to someone else's couch!

That being said, I am fortunate to have many great friends who love and support me and my music, and because I'm 30 I have a lot of drive to become successful. For the last couple of years I have been hyper-focused on making the best music I possibly can, for better or for worse. It's been a wonderful journey so far, and now that I have (finally) started touring and playing enough regular shows to make some money off of my ventures, it looks like there is a realistic possibility of a future in the music industry. You see, for years I have lived in a cerebral fantasy of what a career in music should be, but have never had the tools/people/drive/self-confidence to make it all occur. But now that I have much more experience, the bigger picture becomes a lot more vivid and I am ready to play music full-time and travel all around the world to do so.

To some I may seem self-absorbed and selfish for wanting so much for myself and expecting so much from others. But for me there is no selfish gain involved in making great music. I don't particularly want fame and fortune and drugs and women as much as I have voices of spirits in my head that I hear every day and want to tell the world about because it's all very beautiful. And to share that with other people and tap into a world that is both an escape from reality, and a positive influence on reality at the same time, is the greatest gift I can share with others. I am very thankful for it. To waste it would be a shame.

On a bad day I am a moody son of a bitch. Sometimes I don't want to talk to you at all. I won't answer your phone calls or respond when you knock on my door. I will sit in my room and play guitar and write and make recordings of it all, and I might not come out for days. On a good day I'm boisterous and quick-witted. I'll say whatever's on my mind and I'll use my cunning to sweep you off your feet into a magic world of Jones-ness. I can be caring, humanitarian, charismatic, and down-right lovely. I can also be curious, spontaneous, hilarious, and possibly even legendary.

Then there are the moments in my life that I can't explain. It's like another voice speaks through me, another mind thinks for me, and I am but a vessel for such avenues of energy to express themselves. Like Jung's Superego, this magical experience of the mind is unexplainable but ties in with the most universal of thoughts and I feel as if I am but a small part of a huge web of humanity. While these moments are few and far between, I prefer them over any other means of existence I know of because my needs and wants are cleansed from my soul and my desires are inconsequential, while I feel the warmth of love all around me that comforts and consoles any physical or mental pain I may have felt prior. In short, it's the closest to Nirvana I have come. And as I read books like "Be Here Now" by Richard Alpert, or experience interactions with real gurus, I have opened my soul and mind to experiencing life on a higher plane of existence. I hope to explore this potential more in the upcoming months without being duped by any "Natural Healing" New Age crap. It is my personal journey that I now see before me, and all I can do is relent to my own destiny.