We love people who make music.  We'll bend over backwards for them, even though it kind of hurts.  We'll contort our bodies in any way we can if it helps further their careers.  And only after we've snapped every ligament will we surrender and say, "Here's your album. Now, sshhh, just go.  Be free little birdies, and don't return until you're famous and filthy stinkin' rich.  And when that day comes, we shall smash guitars of gold and spit diamonds at our microphones..."