The First Mile

The inspiration continues kicking in.  It's at an all time high, it's got me soaring the clouds of my subconscious.

I have finally managed to achieve the life arrangement that I wanted to have for my writing.  I had never before been in such a situation and all I could do is speculate that this is what I needed.  And once I reached it, my suspicions turned to be true.  And below I will write what "this" is.

What I am about to say might be specific to personality types.  I have not delved into the psychology of it all yet, so it is just my experience.
I firmly believe that there is a certain mental state which the artist must achieve, and subsequently constantly remain situated.  This mental state I call the "writing trance".  When I am constantly thinking about the songs I wish to write, it is like having an open door for ideas.  I briefly mentioned it in the previous post.  When I am in this trance, verses hit me during the day, and they develop into entire stanzas.  Interesting and poetic ways of saying things come to me with astonishing ease.  It also comes at a price - to the world outside of this shell, I must occur like a zombie.  I get no productivity at work, I am constantly pensive, etc.

Now, what is absolutely key for accomplishing what I need to accomplish is this dire combo: when caught in such a trance, that I get overwhelmed with emotions.  Nothing creates a better out pour of ideas as emotions running high.

Recently I had a particularly bad morning in which I was overwrought with a mosaic of emotions;  I was furious, I was sad, I was disappointed, etc.  Being that I had all these great lines in my head, and some on paper, from being in the "trance", I sat down and started writing.  I wrote an entire song in all of 10 minutes.  Then I spent about an hour sitting back and staring at those lyrics.  They were perfect.  No matter how I twisted it, no matter from which angle I looked at the story, I would not touch them.  They were perfect.  The entire day I worked, I played, I did different things, but I kept going back and glancing at them lyrics every now and then. I felt infinitely powerful.  That is the most I ever accomplished with my songwriting: to be able to complete a song in so little time, start-to-finish.

And so, "Cross That First Mile" is born.  It will be simple, just guitar, vocals, and perhaps harmonica.  I have the chordal structure, but I haven't figured out the best key for my voice, hence the harmonica key is to come as well.
I can't wait to record this one. 


On the other front, I boothed "Slow Burn" with my song circle friends that I met in the Gotham Songwriting Workshop.  I got some great feedback from them, as well from other random friends I asked to give a listen.  I am still, however, struggling on the decision whether to make it electric.  To quote a recent listener: "It sounds like it should be played in a small, smoky blues club, where the singer just grabs the microphone and opens by smoothly saying into it: 'Slow Burn'."
To the woodshed on that one.

Inspiral.

Recently I have been hit by a flurry of inspiration.  I have been writing incessantly. I started several new songs and have them half baked.  I completed a brand new song in a matter of a week.  I called it "Slow Burn".  I must get an account at Reverb Nation, Sound Cloud, or similar, and start making recordings for it.

My new gear is really exceeding my expectations.  I will write, separately, about the gear, but I must just say that my Oktava MK-319, the Presonus Audiobox, and Studio One v2, they are a mighty combo.  I am getting the cleanest, clearest signal I ever have.  Studio One is not as robust as I found Fruity Loops, but that may just be the familiarization with the new DAW.  Time will tell.  It does the job right now.

Back to the inspiration.  I have been stuck in a sort of trance.  A writing trance, I should clarify.  All day, every day, my mind gets hit with thoughts, ideas, sayings, entire verses, entire stanzas!  It's like getting spam email of the useful kind, as a straight gunshot to the head.  It has made me certainly happier.  I feel like I have a neverending, zen smile on my face.  It has also made me infinitely less productive at my day job. 

One thought comes through very clearly: now, more than any other time in my life, I am certain about what I wish to do professionally, what I must do.

It is spiritual, of sorts.  Akin to the countless tales of experiences I have heard of someone "finding their purpose".  It is also a bittersweet thought, for to trudge the path to get where I want to get seems almost unattainable.  But I keep believing that I have something to offer that is unique.  Surely this sounds infantile in the mind of anyone who has tried an artistic outlet as a profession, but this is the only thing I have to cling onto. Sustainability, curse you.



Slow Burn is a slow, bluesy song.  I have recorded the track that is missing just the vocal take and a guitar solo. In total, it will have a small percussion backing, an upright bass (courtesy of Studio One packaged virtual instruments), my acoustic guitar rhythm strum, vocals, and a very small acoustic guitar solo.  I am trying to keep it simple, honest.  It almost sound complex when I write it out like that, but it is not at all.

My next song circle with some friends is this coming Thursday, I have to add these two parts before then.  I am overwhelmingly eager to continue working on it.

Mumford in Hoboken

We went to see Mumford and Sons in Hoboken, NJ, on August 1, 2012.


http://artsbeat.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/08/02/mumford-sons-begin-u-s-tour-in-hoboken/

http://www.nj.com/entertainment/music/index.ssf/2012/08/hobokens_pier_a_welcomes_mumfo.html


15,000 souls gathered to chant the band's classics, such as "Little Lion Man", "The Cave", and others.


The young men hailing from Great Britain certainly left nothing to be desired, in the first concert of their North American Tour.  Now, what was particularly interesting, is that they chose a venue that never held a concert before.  Pier A, in Hoboken, is a pedestrian-style, paved, walkway Pier on the Hudson river, that may be used for fairs, and similar activities.  I have heard from other sources that some of the other stops that they are making on this tour may lean on the same ideas - to use a venue that has not been used before.  I have not formally confirmed this before, but I do wonder whether they are pursuing some sort of pioneering in this venture.


The concert was just an all-around fantastic concert.  With sunset-New York skyline in the backdrop, bathed in tawny glints amidst the indigo buildings, the stage held two opening acts - Dawes, another great, folky band, and Aaron Embry, also a wonderful artist




The Pier was set up appropriately.  Plenty of beer stands with equally plentiful beer waiting lines.  The port-a-potties were also abundant.  All in all, I would call the management of the concert as "done right".


When M&S took the stage, the crowd pressed up a bit closer.  It also got denser.  It appeared that plenty of people disregarded the opening acts.





Now, I said in the beginning that the band left nothing to be desired and I meant it.  They are as impressive and accurate live as they are on the albums.  I did not really know that they are all multi-instrumentalists.   Marcus' strumming technique and singing passion comes through much more powerfully live.  He played his usual Martin dreadnought (not the slope-shoulder D-18VS which I really wanted to see in action) vigorously, to say the least, while tapping the kick pedal for the bass drum or for the tambourine.  In several songs he traded it for a mandolin, and a full drum set!  He was the only one to step behind the drum set, all while singing.  Honestly, his Irish- or Bluegrass-style strumming is quite impressive on the album and the YouTube videos, but I had no idea he would execute it so perfectly live.  It was spot-on.

Ben Lovett, the keyboardist, picked up Marcus' guitar when the latter drummed.

Winston Marshall, the all-too-famous-banjolin player did not bring the banjolin this time, much to my disappointment.  He, instead, used a regular banjo, and played lap-slide guitar and acoustic guitar.

Ted Dwane rocked the upright bass like a madman.  He also played eletric bass on one or two songs.  At some moment, I cannot recall the song, he picked his entire upright bass up on his shoulder, and rocked maniacally.  They delivered a live show worth 15,000 people.


The band played a mixture of songs from the "Sigh No More" album, their EP, and even a song from the new album.  I have the entire "Sigh No More" memorized, and at least four or five songs I did not recognize.  "Little Lion Man" was played early on, so was "I Gave you All".  "The Cave", of course, was saved for the encore, which drove the crowd mad.  Just as Marcus announced that they really have to leave the stage, because it is 10PM, and the city ordinance does not allow them to proceed further, fireworks lit up the sky over the Hudson.  It was magical.

Not having heard "Feel the Tide" was a bit of a disheartening for me.  I love that song and it was from the EP.  However, t'was nothing to diminish the value of this show.


The tickets had gone sold out within days at $55.  We waited too long and missed out on that.  In the very last minute we decided that this show was too much to miss out on it and picked up a few from Stubhub for 2.5 times that cost.  Worth every penny.


Pictures are HORRIBLE.  Sorry.  It's what I could grab with the iPhone from afar.

Heinz 57

Yes, in spirit of my neverending corniness, I am writing in my comeback post only to say that I intend to play CATCHUP and what better way to announce that then the classic, American staple of >>>>>>>>>>>

Ah, where would one start, so much has happened! So hard to believe that the last post was in November!

Things that have happened and I have yet to put here... well, let's see, there's Louisville, more Blitzen Trapper, Z and Cesca, Gypsy music, Napa, new gear, songwriting, new gear, UofL basketball, new classes, and more, in no particular order.

So, yea, I am living, breathing, and in the next few days, I will dump a bottle of Heinz upon these pages.

It's so dumb, really. The whole purpose for this blog was for myself to be able to document my own thoughts / sentiments. Yet, I keep finding it complicated to document them once I am caught in the moment, and wait until later when they are almost evaporated from my head.

I will do my best to recollect all the accounts. Let's see how much I succeed.

Artist of the Week

Speaking of Blitzen Trapper (last post rant), they just recently released yet another album!  It is called American Goldwing and I downloaded it from iTunes.  It is also available on Amazon MP3, but iTunes offers a bonus track (and yet you pay two dollars more!)

American Goldwing Album Cover

It seems that Eric Earley and the boys have been quite busy.  It feels just not long ago they released the colossal work of art that Destroyer of the Void album was.  Following their trail, I had noticed that they had not stopped touring, yet somehow they found time to put out yet another compilation.

The first impression of the album: 7 stars out of 10.

The album seems to be a definitive separation of Blitzen Trapper from the rest of genres that they dabbled, and further into the hardcore prog rock that they emanated throughout their previous work.

I used to enjoy their folksy and acoustic pieces, and I miss them in this American Goldwing.

The album opens with the extravagant Might Find it Cheap, an epitome of prog rock with heavy riffing and an exquisite 12-string-acoustic lead that is bound to induce flashbacks of a golden era of rock and roll.

What seems to be the beacon piece of the album, Love the Way You Walk Away, is my favorite song on it.  It possesses certain elements of a country ballad, coming both from its vernacular as well as the rhythm guitar play. 

As with Destroyer of the Void, American Goldwing keeps a theme throughout the album, yet with each song paying an homage to a different substyle or a different artist.  For example, Your Crying Eyes (song 4), to me, resembles even some David Bowie sound.

The lyrical prowess of Earley is still heavily present, and quite enjoyable.

There are a few mellower songs on the album, but we are certainly not getting another acoustic, "murder ballad" such as Man Who Would Speak True (Destroyer of the Void), or Black River Killer (Furr).  And, we are certainly not getting a grandiose folksy piece such as Furr, or even Tailor. This is my personal bias.  If you are a die-hard prog rock fan, you will get more out of it.  I find it somewhat monotonous.

I would still recommend it and would buy it again, knowing what it was about.

On the State of Music

Recently, my favorite, local radio station had shut down.  It was called 101.9 WRXP, The Rock Experience, and it was headlined by Matt Pinfield, and his co-host Leslie Fram.

Matt Pinfield in Village Voice

For a while, this was my main source for obtaining new music.  Their show was promoting smaller bands from all over the country.  They would always have a guest band or artist that would perform in the studio.  We (my wife and I) learned of so many bands that we ended up going to see live in the area: Rocco DeLuca, Audrye sessions, etc.  They would also promote local music, featuring a weekly session called "Local Licks" and during this time they would play bands from the local, tri-state area.

Evidently, their show was not only about new R'N'R, new bands, local bands.  They played plenty of ol'school Rock and, with the musical historian Mr. Pinfield at the helm, their selection was exquisite.


Now that their gig is up and gone (Pinfield is back on MTV2 for 120 Minutes), I found myself in a very frustrating situation - here we are, in one of the most affluent metropolitan areas in The World, and I could not get a good radio station.  Well, this statement should be qualified.  I could not find a good station that goes out of their way to promote and preserve good music.  That sounds so pompous and esoteric, but take it as you may.
When I lived down in the Philly area, my favorite stations to listen were the College radios, especially the Ivy Leagues' - UPenn and Princeton.  Heck, I learned about Spoon on Princeton's 103.3.  Up here, I tuned into Columbia, Seton Hall, NYU, and found nothing appealing on the waves.  Nothing. 

After this debacle, I turned to my trusty Pandora.  Pandora had become my favorite means of obtaining new music.

However, by poking around the Interwebs, I found that there are still some good sources around the U.S. that invest themselves into preserving good music.

One such station is WNRN in Charlottesville, Virginia.  I subscribed to their YouTube channel after seeing many of my favorite bands and singer/songwriters featured in their studio (e.g. Delta Spirit, Blitzen Trapper, Ellis Paul, Jesse Malin,etc.)  I started checking out new artists I'd find there, and going out to see them live, when they come through the area.  I, thus, discovered really cool new music like Head And The Heart.

Now I get alerts about their uploads in my YouTube account and check them out religiously.  Great acts appear constantly and good music flows my way.


So, what the hell am I talking about here?  What is this rant?  What is this preservation and promotion of good music bullshit that I am spilling?
The way I see it, it is the modern-day radio DJ's responsibility to show us up and coming music acts, all entwined with reminiscing of what good music we've had in the past.  And these reminders should consist of playing the obscure pieces of great bands as well as the most widely known ones.  We've all heard "Like a Rolling Stone" on a radio show three bajillion times; play us something like "Talkin' New York" or "Masters of War".  Those lesser known pieces that defined the artist in his/her era what they really were.

Surely, the media landscape has changed so much in this digital revolution and we can all recur to Podcasts, Music genome projects, instead of our local radio - but the job of the DJ is still the same.

It should also be said that I tend to not discriminate against musical genres.  Though I have been lately, heavily leaning on the side of folk-rock, alt-folk, alt-bluegrass, indie-rock, indie-folk or whatever similar labels are applicable, I can enjoy anything from a good country song to a trance groove.

On another note, my cousin showed me this station in Louisville, KY that seems to be doing the exact same thing.

91.9FM, Louisville WFPK.  They stream and play a plethora of great rock, blues, indie music, folk. 


Why can Louisville, KY have a great station that will play Head and The Heart, and NYC does not???

I don't know who he is. I don't care about him or his urinal!

- My wife J, on Marcel Duchamp.


The two of us were in Manhattan one day, and we visited MoMa. We made it a point to see their house collection which is impressive, since it has been a while that we'd seen it.  I forgot the Marcel Duchamp pieces that they possessed.  I find them ingenious, though I understand that readymade art is an acquired taste for a visual art neophyte, much like myself.

Duchamp: Bicycle Wheel (MoMa)

After a few drinks and some music, I began some ramblings on Duchamp in our taxi ride home.  I elaborated with an inebriated, incoherent exploration of the genius behind Fountain (or whatever limited knowledge I had on the subject), and I kept insisting after perceiving mild indifference on her part, which pushed her to utter that epic quote above.  It really tickled me that she used the word "urinal", in her outburst, because of the simplicity that Duchamp achieves in the abstraction of the urinal itself.
The urinal's metamorphosis happens somewhere between our ears, without much intervention from the artist itself, but a careful placement of the title.

Duchamp: Fountain

The truth is, without even having studied nearly the amount of Art History that I wish I would have, I am certainly curious about Dada, in the most romantic way possible.  I am infatuated by its origins, and its evolution.

The movement started as a revolution in sub-bourgeois circles in central Europe, and it propagated to the US and Asia as well.  The rebellion against the bourgeois capitalism and its tendencies for arousing conflict pushed artists, bohemians, intellectuals to convene in small circles and share their satires and parodies in as many forms as possible.

Thank you, Duchamp, for giving us the Fountain to drink from, for many years to come.  We don't care about you, or your damn urinal.