There's something weird about this, I realized pretty quickly—or rather weirdly natural. For almost all of human history people could only hear music made in physical proximity to them. It could be composed elsewhere, of course, but not performed. So it seemed like a restoration to only listen to local music (like farm-to-table again). But it was, instead, a kind of inversion, imposing the rules of live music onto recorded music. Because live, of course, I could only hear music performed in Baltimore, wherever the band may be from. Still, almost immediately, I learned that I cared a lot more about the monetary situation of musicians when I knew them or knew of them or saw how hard they worked at various restaurants, bars, or stores when they were not playing. I wanted to do a big story about how musicians survive in today's world (and still do) and began to interview people. Jenn Wasner, from Wye Oak and Flock of Dimes, was extraordinarily generous with her time and exceedingly frank about her situation. Even when she traveled nearly 300 days a year at the height of Wye Oak's popularity, she made something close to the abysmally low salary of a City Paper editorial employee. When not touring, she was working as a dog walker and had a story about waiting to get into a fancy building to pick up a dog and meeting a fan—also a dog walker—who thought Wasner lived in the posh building. She had to explain that the music business doesn't work like that. One of the biggest names in Baltimore music (and only a two-piece, so you're not splitting the money with that many people), and the only way to survive without another job is by living on the road.