The Most Gratifying Reward

In Jim Wilson’s memoir, Tuned In: Memoirs of a Piano Man, he writes about his career as a piano technician and his pathway to becoming a professional pianist. Wilson spoke to BookLife about the intersection of writing and playing music, his encounters with music legends, and his relentless pursuit of a dream.

 

 

When I was seven, on an impulse, a friend of my mom’s gave me a guitar. His lovely gesture altered the course of my life. I could then discover music on my own terms, figuring out how to pick apart my favorite songs by ear. From my mom’s friend’s gift going forward, music became the driving force of my life. My new guitar became my constant companion, a lifeline to a kid struggling to fit in.

 

 

Back in the ’80s, I was playing in a band in Texas and the keyboard player had a sideline of tuning pianos. I was planning on moving to L.A. to seek my fame and fortune as a singer-songwriter. I realized piano tuning could be the perfect “day job” for me, as almost everyone in the music industry would have a piano. Little did I know that my “sideline gig” would ultimately put me in company with some of the world’s most exalted music legends! Their instruments are their cherished vehicles for their artistic expression, and I took great pride in becoming the artisan they entrusted to maintain their pianos at peak performance.

 

 

As my piano tech career began succeeding beyond my wildest imagination, I began hitting the snooze button on my artistic aspirations. It took the sudden, shocking passing of my closest friend at the age of 37 to realize there isn’t a limitless reservoir of tomorrows and that I had to get on with my dream of creating a musical legacy. The main obstacle holding me back was my predilection for panic attacks and my fear of failure.

 

But my friend Claude’s passing put things in perspective for me. Dying with an unfulfilled dream in my heart was a far worse fate than momentarily losing face. I was driven to create my first album. That way, if I got that unexpected tap on the shoulder like Claude did, there’d be a lasting legacy of my music. From that week forward, I threw my heart and soul into fulfilling my dream. Now, here I am, 25 years later, with 10 albums, two PBS specials, and 75 million streams under my belt—all of which I owe to my friend Claude and the hard lessons I learned from his passing.

 

 

I’d planned on writing my memoir for years. Then, when the pandemic hit, I had no more excuses! I started cobbling together fun stories of my one-of-a-kind experiences with Paul McCartney, Elton John, Carole King, and Dan Fogelberg. It evolved into a much deeper dive into who I became in the process of pursuing my musical aspirations. Writing down the bones of my David-vs.-Goliath story was an incredibly cathartic experience. Since my book’s release two months ago, I’ve received numerous emails from people who were inspired by my journey and were newly motivated to pursue their dreams—the most gratifying reward I could get.

 

 

Getting a front-row seat to witness the creative processes of dozens of music legends was incredibly inspiring. But my experiences with Paul McCartney impacted me the most: starting with a magical four-hour hang, sitting on the same piano bench with him, led to numerous visits and conversations with him. He was my first hero, and getting to become friends and exchange musical ideas with him inspired me to take my creativity to the next level.

 

 

When I recorded my first album, Northern Seascape, in 1997, the traditional paradigm of the music biz was beginning to crumble. I did get signed to Angel EMI for that record; then the remainder of my 10 albums were released under my own label, Willow Bay Music, which I leased to distributors into the nontraditional markets, gift stores, et cetera. As brick-and-mortar record stores gave way to people streaming music online, my music became more popular than ever, as people can discover it more easily. It’s been a godsend for me!

 

 

I was deeply flattered to get an offer from a midlevel traditional publisher a year ago. But, after months of negotiations, we couldn’t move the needle on their initial offer to give me a tiny advance and a 10% royalty for each book sold, after they’d recouped their advance, of course!

 

Considering that the vast majority of books are sold online now, I figured if you had a great cover—and, one would hope, a great book—no one cares, or even thinks, about who published it. So I decided to self-publish and set myself up for rewards commensurate to my efforts, a choice I’ve never regretted!