Monday, January 6, 2014

Barricades in the Brain


I have not yet found the reason for why I do this, but I've found recently that I do this to myself well beyond the extent that I am willing to accept.

And "this", is keeping and honoring some sort of ethereal hierarchy in the sequence of execution of certain sub-tasks of a particular task category, that is purely self-imposed.

In this instance, I have not written in this blog, obviously, for a very long time.   The truth is that an event so dire took place in my life; so dire that for the longest time I felt that I could not and should not write about anything else until I "honor" that event by writing about it.  Moreover, writing about that event was to take so much thought, time, and effort, if I were to "honor" it the way only I could imagine being appropriate, that in the end nothing happened for so many months.  Neither have I written about that or anything else.  So I just died at this barricade that I built all by myself.  Nothing got done, nothing happened.

I should have someone look at that.

I bet that my sister, completing her psychiatry residency at the moment, would be eager to sink her mindgame paws into this issue.  But I somehow feel that Mr. Henry McKenna is much better suited for the occasion.

But on that note, I plan to begin writing more... again.  I have felt the inspiration for quite some time and until now I just could not dedicate the time to it.

I am also going to start posting regularly the discoveries in two things that seem to follow me wherever I may go:


What's Playing ?

Wild Belle - Keep You

Josh Ritter - Harrisburg



What's Pouring ?

Bell's White Winter Ale





And by the way:
What the Fuck?

Sunday, January 27, 2013

Personal Foul: Folding! Ten Yard Penalty.



I can only look ahead.  There is simply no other option.  I've got to take the bitter with the better.  It was bound to happen sometimes soon.  It's bound to happen some more.  Let's get the hurdles over with.

I attended the aforementioned "mic'ed" Open Mic.  This one gets a bit more attention than the previous one I posted.  It is ushered by Caroleanne Solebello.  Solebello is one of the founders and a former member of the band Red Molly.  I still remember vividly when I first came across them.  Years ago, I was flippin' channels and came across a local PBS branch.  It was showing a performance from the local place Justice Brennan Coffeehouse.  I just remember specifically the three ladies producing this haunting, Appalachian-mounatin sound.  Each one of them a multi-instrumentalist, they kept alternating who plays the guitar, the banjo, the mandolin, the bass, and the slide-guitar.  You can find plenty of Red Molly videos on the Tube.
Well, Solebello had bestowed her spot in the band upon another lady, and stayed at home to give birth to her first son, and spend time with her family.  Nowadays, she still writes and performs solo, and once a month she volunteers by nurturing a local songwriting community.  She was great.

Back to the disaster at hand.

Stepping up at Christopher St.



I am not sure what all contributed to the overwhelming stage fright that hit me like a freight train, but it could have been any number of things: the fact that 14 people signed up for this open mic, as opposed to 5 from the last one; the skin-wringing cold that bit through all the layers that I had on me; the spotlight that they shined on the performers, the lack of preparation that I had with one of my songs, which I just finished writing the night before, bla, bla, bla.

The truth is, I did not expect at all to have such stage fright.  I have been nervous before, but this was an animal I hadn't encountered yet.  I guess I was unjustifiably overconfident. 

So, I folded. It was horrifying.

The ol' cliche of a train-wreck in slow motion is the best depiction of the feeling.  I just wanted the nightmare to end.

For this open mic, there is a strict maximum of two songs per performer.  I performed Cross That First Mile again, because I love singing that song and because I want to get as much practice performing it. Then, I performed a newly-written song called The Tempest.

Bombing at Christopher St.
Bombing at Christopher St.
 
When I sat down, the first image that came to my mind was comics speaking of how they had "bombed".  Surely it was nothing like it because I had no one booing me off the stage and throwing tomatoes at me (Do people still do that?  How does that work?  Do you walk into the Apollo with pocket-fulls of tomatoes?  Do they hand them out? I do wonder...)  But it felt like the biggest, self-inflicted let-down that one could endure.

I fumbled through my chord progressions, my hands felt as if someone poured concrete through my veins and lathered the palms with molasses; I missed chords, I forgot chords, and then in some instances my fingers simply wouldn't move!  I sang off-key, I missed single notes, and on, and on.




The one thing that I truly feared prior to standing up - didn't happen: forgetting my lyrics!




Bombing at Christopher St.
Bombing at Christopher St.
I knew that my wife was recording a video of it all.  I was so disappointed with it that the moment I sat down, I had already decided to not post the video of it.  Like a pouting kid that takes his toys and goes home.
I couldn't speak for a while afterwards.  J asked me how I thought it went, and I mumbled "Awful".  She knew to leave me alone for a while (read: leave the pouting kid alone for a while).  It was another 15 minutes before I reciprocated the question. 
She says: "I didn't think it was that bad at all".  So I watched the video.  
Actually, watching the video made me regain some confidence, there.  It is still a mediocre performance, but nowhere near a disaster that I made up in my head.




So, now back to the woodshed.  The best thing coming from this experience is that I got a pretty clear idea of what kinds of improvements I must focus on.  For instance: singing into a microphone,  practicing controlling my breath, practicing my strumming without staring at the guitar (you can even see me glancing over in the video.

With singing, our vocal coach, Janie, always makes us sing into mics, but I had (obviously) never given it much thought.  Luckily, I have enough gear at home that now I can invest hours into just practicing my songs with mics.

Looking up at Christopher St.



As for moving on: new goals!  Looking up and recording all the songs to pitch to some local song circles that perform.  I am going to continue rehearsing and attending the open mics, nonetheless.  Not only is it good practice for me, but the community is great and everyone shares their work and respects others'.  With all this, the new goal is to get a gig.


Open Mic Chris St Coffeehouse from Skika on Vimeo.

The new season of Portlandia...

... is the best so far.  And if you don't think so, you just hop on your fixed-gear bike and move to Williamsburg.  Pronto.


Friday, January 11, 2013

Breaking Ground



I finally mustered the courage (and practice) to start attending some open mic nights.

Last night I went to the Christopher Street Coffeehouse Open Mic, which is held at the St. John's Church in West Village.  This open mic is acoustic, but they have one that is run on a different (regular) schedule, that is mic'd.  It also attracts a larger crowd.  That will probably be the next step.

I like this place.  A friend of mine introduced me to it.  The community is very welcoming.

I performed Cross That First Mile, and Breaking Heart. I was extremely pleased to see my wife, J, walk through the doors, halfway through the first song.  She supports me in everything.  She was quick with the iPhone and snapped a video of the performance.  It flips around in the beginning, but you can get the idea.



Open Mic Chris St Coffeehouse from Skika on Vimeo.

It had been a long while since I last performed in front of an audience.  I was inexplicably nervous, and botched some fingerpicking and sang a few notes off key, here-and-there.  I need to continue doing these to get over all that nonsense.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Blowhard.

#%(*#%!@(^%@#)(%& !!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, all along my path of learning, I read about this problem many a time, but never thought it would happen to me.

I must have overblown on one of the notes in my harmonica and damaged a reed.

The funny thing is that I know exactly when it happened.  It is my D harmonica and the last time I used it was in a song circle to booth "Me and My Old Man".  I hadn't used that key since then and last I picked it up, it has a dead note on hole 4 draw. 

The frustrating thing is that I have been researching harmonicas and this was one of my expensive ones, the Hohner Marine Band.  Originally, I had bought the bargain set of 3-for-$10 from Jambone and was happy for a while, until I tried a higher end harmonica and realized that they can play so much smoother.  So I started investing into Marine Band and loved them, at ~ $37.  And there is no guarantee that it's the last of this mishap, everyone around the harmonica forums and tutorials says that you will ruin a few in your learning process until you get a complete control of your breath. 

I am very paranoid now, I used my C Marine Band the other night and noticed myself compensating for breathing by overblowing/overdrawing.  Sucks.  Pun intended.


Not sure whether I want to blow my way through Marine Band, at $37 per, while learning.  I will probably find something in the middle, like Blues Bender.  Another trip to Guitar Center, ugh.

Monday, October 8, 2012

Artist Highlight: Gregory Alan Isakov





Artist Highlight: Gregory Alan Isakov



Well I had started off by calling this the "Artist of the Week" column.  Quickly realizing that I am nowhere near as consistent as it would be required for that sort of title, I am switching it to "Artist Highlight".  Let's be realistic here.


Today, I am discussing a singer-songwriter that I found very inspiring: Gregory Alan Isakov.

As has been true for me recently, (see: On The State Of Music) Isakov's songs slipped into my ear canal via the trusty Pandora.com.  His melancholic melodies along with the soft voice and beautiful lyrics was a combo to which I could relate. 

If you visit his site, you can sample his tracks, and read all his lyrics. 

The first song of his that I stumbled upon was The Sea, The Gambler, from the eponymous album from 2007.  It is simply great.  The vibe, the melody, everything about it.  It sings almost like a shanty and it speaks of the sea, death, and love.  Once I heard this, I bought the album.  I did not regret it.  All the songs are marvelous, but some that are really worth a listener's time are:  Stable Song, which opens with the anthemic line "Remember when songs were just like prayers?"; and 3 a.m.,  which showcases the songwriter's fingerpickin' prowess that is sure to lure you down into the rabbit hole.


Isakov issued the second album, titled This Empty Northern Hemisphere in 2009.  I have not acquired a copy yet.

One thing that stuck out to me, from a fellow songwriter - most of his songs do not have any percussion in them.  They are composed mainly of string instruments: his guitar, a bass, and the occasional banjo, piano, mandolin.  It is an interesting combination that he makes work extremely well.  This is also the way in which he performs them live - he has a bass and a secondary string accompaniment.



Sunday, October 7, 2012

The Universe Shall Conspire ...

Well it happened.  I am still in utter disbelief.

My wife bought me a gift for our wedding anniversary that cut me right at the knees.  It is what I consider the embodiment of guitar perfection.  I have been coveting this guitar for a very long time.  I recently got to play it at the Martin factory.

What makes this gift so much more sentimental is that we are (for many reasons) in absolutely no position to make these kinds of expenses at this moment.  She pulled a few extra shifts just to be able to get this for me. Sigh.

She has been the only, real pillar of support that I have been leaning on, in the path to my newly-discovered "Personal Legend".


Here is the guitar porn...





The specifications:

  • MODEL HD-28VS
  • CONSTRUCTION: Mahogany Blocks/Dovetail Neck Joint
  • BODY SIZE: D-12 Fret
  • TOP: Solid Sitka Spruce
  • ROSETTE: Style 28
  • TOP BRACING PATTERN: Standard "X" Scalloped
  • TOP BRACES: Solid Sitka Spruce 5/16''
  • BACK MATERIAL: Solid East Indian Rosewood
  • BACK PURFLING: HD Zig Zag
  • SIDE MATERIAL: Solid East Indian Rosewood
  • ENDPIECE: Grained Ivoroid
  • ENDPIECE INLAY: Black/White Boltaron
  • BINDING: Grained Ivoroid
  • TOP INLAY STYLE: Bold Herringbone
  • SIDE INLAY: none
  • BACK INLAY: Black/White Boltaron
  • NECK MATERIAL: Select Hardwood
  • NECK SHAPE: Modified V
  • NUT MATERIAL: Bone
  • HEADSTOCK: Slotted/Square Slots/ Diamond/Square Taper
  • HEADPLATE: Solid East Indian Rosewood /Small Old Style Logo
  • HEELCAP: Grained Ivoroid
  • FINGERBOARD MATERIAL: Solid Black Ebony
  • SCALE LENGTH: 25.4"
  • # OF FRETS CLEAR: 12
  • # OF FRETS TOTAL: 19
  • FINGERBOARD WIDTH AT NUT: 1-3/4''
  • FINGERBOARD WIDTH AT 12TH FRET: 2-1/4''
  • FINGERBOARD POSITION INLAYS: Diamonds & Squares - Long Pattern
  • FINGERBOARD BINDING: none
  • FINISH BACK & SIDES: Polished Gloss
  • FINISH TOP: Polished Gloss w/ Aging Toner
  • FINISH NECK: Satin
  • BRIDGE MATERIAL: Solid Black Ebony
  • BRIDGE STYLE: Vintage Belly w/ Drop-in Long Saddle
  • BRIDGE STRING SPACING: 2-1/4''
  • SADDLE: 16'' Radius/Bone- Drop In Long Saddle
  • TUNING MACHINES: Waverly Nickel Side Mounts w/ Butterbean Knobs
  • RECOMMENDED STRINGS: Martin SP 4200 Medium Phosphor Bronze
  • BRIDGE & END PINS: White w/ Tortoise Colored Dots
  • PICKGUARD: Tortoise Color
  • CASE: 540 Geib style
  • INTERIOR LABEL: none
  • ELECTRONICS: Optional
  • OTHER OPTIONS: Available left-handed at no additional charge


When I first played an HD-28 I was taken aback.  It stood so far above the other Martins.  The specific bracing that it is used in it produces an unbelievable sound.  Many people believe that the only difference between an HD-28 and a D-28 is the ("H") herringbone inlay.  This is not true.  Tony from Music Villa explains this much better than I ever could:

I am not much for pizzazz.  But this guitar has just enough.  The combination of the HD-28 sound, with some of the aesthetic features that appeal to me, is really what attracts me:  the sloped-shoulder dreadnought, the slotted headstock, the soft-shaped V-neck.

Bliss.

Thanks J, I love you.