Being in a rock band is about touring. It's about writing songs

Hear the words of James Young: “Being in a rock band is about touring. It’s about writing songs and it’s about making records but it’s also about taking a wonderful smile onto that stage and making the people feel good about themselves.” These words, though rooted in the life of music, resound with a wisdom that reaches far beyond the stage. For they remind us that the work of the artist is not only to create, but to give, not only to express, but to uplift. The smile upon the stage is not a decoration—it is a signal of communion, a bridge from the performer’s heart to the hearts of the crowd.

The ancients, too, understood this truth. In the amphitheaters of Greece, actors did not simply recite words, nor did musicians simply play their lyres. They carried the audience into another world, offering not just sound or story, but a transformation of the spirit. The purpose was not only to entertain, but to leave the people changed—to help them see themselves more clearly, to feel more deeply, to rise above their daily burdens. Young’s words echo this tradition: the music itself is vital, but the joy it awakens is the true gift.

History is filled with examples of this sacred exchange. Consider Bob Marley, who did not simply sing songs of rhythm and rebellion but carried on his face the light of hope. When he performed in Jamaica in 1978, bringing political rivals together on stage in a moment of unity, it was not only his voice that stirred the crowd, but his presence—the way he bore himself, the way he smiled even through struggle, the way he made the people feel that their lives had value. His smile was more than an expression; it was a weapon of peace, as powerful as any lyric he ever wrote.

And so we see that being in a rock band—or in any place of influence—is more than the craft itself. Touring, writing, recording: these are the duties of the musician. But the greater duty is to carry the smile of courage, of generosity, of invitation onto the stage. For the people who gather are not only seeking sound—they are seeking connection. They want to feel lifted, to know that in their struggles and their loneliness they are not forgotten. The smile of the artist says, “You belong here. You matter.”

Yet this truth extends beyond the stage. Each of us has our own stage, whether it be in our families, our workplaces, or our daily encounters with strangers. The question is not whether we will write songs or make records, but whether we will bring our smile into the lives of others, whether we will use our presence to help them feel good about themselves. In this sense, Young’s words are not only for musicians, but for all who walk among their fellow men and women.

The lesson is this: whatever your craft, whatever your calling, do not forget that your true purpose is not only the work itself but the spirit you awaken in others. Be diligent in your practice, be faithful in your labor, but also remember to bring joy, to carry the smile that reassures and uplifts. For the greatest gift you can give is not your achievement, but the way you make others feel when they stand in your presence.

So let this wisdom endure: life is more than toil, art is more than product, and success is more than acclaim. It is the smile, the light of the spirit shining outward, that changes lives. Be as James Young counsels: take your work seriously, yes, but carry with it the gift of joy. Step onto your stage—whatever and wherever it may be—and let your presence be a reason for others to believe in themselves again. For in that gift lies the true legacy of every life.