I'm In Love, Once Again

I've noticed, in the last few years, that I've started to like more new music. More new bands. More new albums.

I think I know why - artistic control. Human nature, and therefore artistic nature, doesn't change - we're always driven to create something that satisfies us. So what changes?

Outside influence on destiny, that's what. Here's what I mean: In the 70's, the good record executives and A&R guys learned to get out of the way of the creative process, and the result, for much of the decade, was an all-time high of creative output. The record companies got what they wanted, too - money. The product of the free creative process was a win-win.

The examples are endless: the Stones, ELO, Dylan, McCartney solo, Rod Stewart, Paul Simon, Zeppelin... all of whom took control of making music. Many of them built their own studios, used their own musicians, and handed over a final product to the record company.

Well, today I find a huge amount of history repeating itself. Bands are making their own decisions; they're recording and writing on their own terms, and hoping for the best, with or without major release.

Bon Iver or Band of Horses are great examples. They record everything on their own without guidance from anyone outside their nucleus. The music is awesome, free of restraint, and intensely creative. I'm in love once again. It's a damn good feeling.

Geek Fire

Yes, geeky I am and have always been, but unconventionally; I'm OBSESSED with the Lord of the Rings films, but I never finished the books... and many more examples just like that.

So I've indulged in my geeklove (in German, geeklieb), and wrote a new tune inspired by Frodo. No, I am not kidding, and yes, I'm a bit embarrassed... It's called Getting By and I'm debating whether or not to add the rock cliche parenthetical ("Getting By (Frodo)")

I got my start in the computer geek world in 1986 when my parents got me my beloved Commodore 64. I won't tell the story here, but I was knee-deep in the BBS world at age 12.

Anyway, I find very interesting the kind of things that become popular in the geek niche world (Jonathan Coulton being a great example). I'm no code monkey, but I feel a kinship with them - maybe it's the discouragement of anything mainstream or from the conformed world.

On a related note, Coulton is such a great example of a new path to success for the indy musician: niche writing. The key is not to be too deliberate. But that's another post.

I discovered this Zoe Keating today. Very interesting stuff - she's an avant-cellist (self proclaimed), and huge in the geekdom (check out her Google performance with Radiolab) - why is yet another blog post.

K I S S

When you're raised on steady diets of polarity in American folk and Beatles, like I was, as a musician it's hard to recognize the need for simplicity while the Siren's call of complexity beckons - especially when you reach a point where you can manifest what's in your head. To quote Tap: There's a fine line between stupid and clever.

I've been thinking about this for years now. Often, I find myself holding back from going off on a solo or adding extra thumps to a drum or bass part, and opting for what I think will better serve the song. I didn't just make this up - on guitar at least, I think I got it from Brian May, who once said that, when he's prepping his solos in the studio, he thinks first about "serving the song". Serving the song... that's fascinated me forever.

The same goes for songwriting - without going deeper, I equally love 2112 Rush, New York Lou Reed, Smile Beach Boys, and Ringo Ringo.

Here's an awesome example of simple-makes-better - Lou's Dirty Boulevard. Simple in rhythm, simple in tune, simple in arrangement, complex in lyric, and POWERFUL as hell. If you've ever lived in NYC, this song has extra meaning.

The Art of Chumus & Making Music

Today, I was telling a buddy who likes the way I make chumus, how I make it. It's complicated, and I wanted to tell him exactly how much of whatever ingredient or spice to put in, but I couldn't. It was impossible to convey, in conventional units of measure, how much to use. It's more art than science.

Now I'm watching my kids make up their own game and have a blast playing it. You can see them come alive, living the moment, totally engaged. It just dawned on me that that's the way making music should be approached. If you can tell someone exactly what it takes to create a perfect final product, you're done for. Forget passion, personal touch, unique artistry. There can be no exact instructions or recipes. No one told my kids how to make up a game - that would have killed the moment and their creativity. 

Anyway.

I'm a huge sucker for early 70's glam, e.g. Sweet, Mott the Hoople, Bowie, etc. Here's a long lost AWESOME tune. Kiss even did a kick-arse version of it (oh God, that video is fucking hilarious!) on the Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey soundtrack. Yes, I said that.

Elvish Bastards

I'm working on a song now, I Wanted You To Know, which wants to be overdubbed like crazy... it's just ASKING me for layered acoustics and electrics, some horns, and most obviously tons of vocals... In fact, it won't SHUT UP.

But I decided, in this phase I'm neck-deep in, that I would ignore the little elf voices in my musical head that are trying to get me to start making those overdubs. This is extremely counter-intuitive for me - I, like every musician and songwriter, have self-esteem issues. My issue is my voice. Long story which I'll save for another post down the line, but I tend to want to crowd instruments around my voice to shift attention elsewhere. 

Not this time.

I started I Wanted You To Know as a keyboard track, then overdubbed the drums and final vocals. Now I've decided - that's it. Right there. Not even bass. I will leave the song and my voice alone, and let it hang its balls right out there for all to see and judge. Big step for me. And the elves.

Below is a clip of an awesome Bosstones track, one near and dear to me. Speaks volumes on my life.