There’s a digital bird on the power line outside my window. Someone changed the chirping algorithm over the weekend. My scattered brain misses connections with my fingers. Spelling’s off, chunks missing. Every cell pleading Don’t Go this morning. Find Your Inner Idle.
Comcast wants 43 bucks or else. Or Else what? You’ll stop the incessant drivel you jam through the pipe forcing me to desperately go the The Guide to soften my incredulity?
I love the sloppy gray outside. The piano has that come hither look. There's a song to finish in the basement. Work will have to wait for me today.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Monday, September 06, 2010
The view won’t bother you much after awhile
The idea has been rattling around head for a while now: it’s time to make a new record. I’ve only made done this once and it was 25 years ago. You may recall that 1986 was the last year of vinyl. I look at my 12-inch LP (say what?) and think I may as well have recorded on a wax cylinder. That effort was a commercial flop because I could never get enough gigs to "push the product". But I have no regrets. As I’ve often said making a record is the most honest work I’ve ever done. There is something about the process of tuning and perfecting a recording that is difficult but very rewarding.
So I’ve started looking around for a studio. They run the gamut between $40/hour for in-home operations to Berkshire mountain retreats at more than double that rate. Initially I was tempted by the idea of finding a studio that screams
musical retreat. There are many of these (check out the photo on the left). The thinking is that such bodacious surroundings offer that extra inspiration to round out the experience. But y’know what? – the time for inspiration is before you get in the studio. So now inclined to keep it closer to home, knuckle-down and get to work. I talked about the project with Eric Kilburn who runs Wellspring Sound (photo right
). How about that panoramic view? Step inside and chat it up with Eric though and it’s hard to imagine a better place to record. I’m still going to do a little shopping but the more I look around the more anxious I am to get started.
So I’ve started looking around for a studio. They run the gamut between $40/hour for in-home operations to Berkshire mountain retreats at more than double that rate. Initially I was tempted by the idea of finding a studio that screams
musical retreat. There are many of these (check out the photo on the left). The thinking is that such bodacious surroundings offer that extra inspiration to round out the experience. But y’know what? – the time for inspiration is before you get in the studio. So now inclined to keep it closer to home, knuckle-down and get to work. I talked about the project with Eric Kilburn who runs Wellspring Sound (photo right
). How about that panoramic view? Step inside and chat it up with Eric though and it’s hard to imagine a better place to record. I’m still going to do a little shopping but the more I look around the more anxious I am to get started.
Twists and Turns
Trying to create a new musical life for yourself isn’t easy. Every turn requires you to examine the goal. Is this a hobby, commercial venture, eventual work replacement? Am I looking for fame, fun, or fortune? For me the commercial aspect is close to nil. Fun and creative expression are at the top of the list. These days I’m trying to figure out who I want my musical self to be: a songwriter, recording artist, solo performer, part of a duet or band.
You can’t solve this identity crisis in a vacuum – you have to take in account our culture. What you want and what the culture can offer may be at odds. I got an email today from a guy who’s restarting a sixties band. I think he said it best .. "In a dead cultural landscape we feel like the old buffalo hunter dragging his gun around, wondering where the herd went. It's kind of a mail-order bride situation." (I’m still trying to figure out who ordered the bride – the hunter? the buffalo?) Anyway the point is that live music has lost its tingle. Most people can barely make the distinction between a live performer and an mp3 file.
I stopped playing guitar for the better part of 10 years. Then, a while back, I started playing again, wrote a couple of new songs, and starting doing some open mikes. In the last few months I upgraded to “real gigs” – 2 one-hour sets of yours truly doing about 70% original material. These can be daunting because in most places you have to beg for attention. To wit… the best part of my last gig was playing background music to a small group of diners. I thought things would improve in the second set when I expected folks from the adjoining bar to saunter over for a listen. Nyet. Instead I played my last 6 songs to an empty room (a very strange feeling). Now it could be that I lack the musical magnetism to encourage people to walk 20 feet to see a live performer but I don’t think so. It has more to do with the iPod Effect – music is everywhere. Music, especially, has ceased to become as special.
If you want to have a good listening crowd you need go the coffeehouse / folk festival route. As painful as an open mike can be, you are playing to a room of performers and songwriters and they are definitely paying attention. This positive is offset by the fact that you’ll only play 1 to 3 songs. The challenge for us singer/songwriters is to find the best of both worlds. Right now the closest you can get is to be a feature act at an open mike. I would like to invent something better.
You can’t solve this identity crisis in a vacuum – you have to take in account our culture. What you want and what the culture can offer may be at odds. I got an email today from a guy who’s restarting a sixties band. I think he said it best .. "In a dead cultural landscape we feel like the old buffalo hunter dragging his gun around, wondering where the herd went. It's kind of a mail-order bride situation." (I’m still trying to figure out who ordered the bride – the hunter? the buffalo?) Anyway the point is that live music has lost its tingle. Most people can barely make the distinction between a live performer and an mp3 file.
I stopped playing guitar for the better part of 10 years. Then, a while back, I started playing again, wrote a couple of new songs, and starting doing some open mikes. In the last few months I upgraded to “real gigs” – 2 one-hour sets of yours truly doing about 70% original material. These can be daunting because in most places you have to beg for attention. To wit… the best part of my last gig was playing background music to a small group of diners. I thought things would improve in the second set when I expected folks from the adjoining bar to saunter over for a listen. Nyet. Instead I played my last 6 songs to an empty room (a very strange feeling). Now it could be that I lack the musical magnetism to encourage people to walk 20 feet to see a live performer but I don’t think so. It has more to do with the iPod Effect – music is everywhere. Music, especially, has ceased to become as special.
If you want to have a good listening crowd you need go the coffeehouse / folk festival route. As painful as an open mike can be, you are playing to a room of performers and songwriters and they are definitely paying attention. This positive is offset by the fact that you’ll only play 1 to 3 songs. The challenge for us singer/songwriters is to find the best of both worlds. Right now the closest you can get is to be a feature act at an open mike. I would like to invent something better.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)