As this is written, I'm waiting for a mix of "Turn Your Radio On" to be delivered by the Studio Guy. We recorded everybody's parts this afternoon. I think it'll turn out okay. I try not to interfere with the recoridng process, but kept wanting to tell everybody not to be so restrained (voices, particularly, sound flat if they're tentative)–they really did sound better live. It was a new experience for most of ‘em, though–only Wayne, the lead guitarist, had spent any time in a recording studio.
The studio gear is portable, and recording the Friday Night Group (I think I would like him to do that) may entail packing up the studio gear and taking it down to City Hall's Dance Floor and doing it there. If the limitations of the hall can be compensated for (low, acoustic tile ceiling, hard-surface cinderblock walls, and a big floor area–the Dance Floor is a sound engineer's Hell), it really would be better to record the Friday Night Group live. As far as material goes, only three of the Group have written original songs (actually, that's pretty good–two of them started doing it after me), and we want to avoid covers because of the licensing headaches; it may be best to simply do an album of traditional Gospel songs.
This week's original song (first one in a while) is a polka–or should have been a polka, for St. Leif's Day. St. Leif is (or was) Swedish; his claim to fame was saving the ants by taking them one by one into his house and feeding them stale popcorn through the winter. Sort of an odd version of St. Francis of Assisi. (St. Leif is also supposed to be the patron saint of bagpipes.) Now, all this is very difficult to take seriously, and I didn't try. My St. Leif dance is "The Six-Legged Polka." It's delivered straight-faced, but that's about where the seriousness stops. Thing is, I can see this being performed by a dance troupe, in traditional costumes, with little antennae on their heads–it would be a hoot. I wonder if anyone would be willing to do it?
Did St. Leif actually exist? I don't think so; in light of the song, I rather hope not–I could get some Divine Retribution out of it if the Powers That Be ever heard it. It was more an exercise–taking what little was known about the saint (ants, check; winter, check; saving, check; popcorn, check) and building a song that sorta made sense around it–the sort of thing that really could be performed as a traditional dance (if the dancers didn't speak any English). Tongue planted firmly in cheek, of course; it feels at home there.
Not knowing much about polkas (except that they're very fast two-steps), I asked some of the accordion players in the Friday Night Group for advice; best suggestion I got was that a polka was "bluegrass on steroids." So the "Six-Legged Polka" is basically bluegrass music, and maybe if I can get a couple more "polkafied" musicians to join in, it'll sound more like the real thing.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Saturday, March 17, 2007
DEADLINES...
One advantage independent writer-musicians have over the Industry is we're able–in theory–to meet tight deadlines, and that's a potential break-in route into the music business. I can put out a song in a day–just showed that was possible. Now, if I could get a song recorded in a week's time, say, using local musicians and a local studio, we'd have something the Industry couldn't match. The Big Boys can't move that fast–but we can. Two important prerequisites are (1) we have to be able to deliver on time and (2) the product has to be of equal quality as the Big Boys'. I think both are possible, though they're going to have to be worked on.
The Friday Night Group folks are a joy to work with–an incredible mix of styles and backgrounds, that can be really surprising when put together in one place. Most are far from professional musicians (there are two retired professionals, however, and one of the fiddlers plays violin in a local symphony orchestra), and they're competent without being stars. The key, though (my opinion) is being familiar with the material, and with each other, and these guys and gals are getting that down. They're becoming familiar with each other's foibles and limitations–as well as strengths–and the result is extremely professional. They are, as the Big Boys like to put it, "radio-ready."
UPDATES
"TURN YOUR RADIO ON": Well, we have the band–Dale on electric bass, Jeannette on fiddle, and Dale, Jeannette, and Ruth (from the audience) doing backup vocals. Kenny, who was going to play lead, had to have a knee operation, so I coerced Wayne, another of the Friday Night Group musicians, into substituting; Wayne is your traditional barroom electric guitarist, but he did know the song–everybody does–and his barroom lead is just perfect for it. NOW the trick is getting everybody into the studio over the next couple of days. Thankfully, since we're "layering" this thing, everybody theoretically doesn't have to be there at once. But we sure did sound good when we played it live.
"WHEN I JUMP OFF THE CLIFF I'LL THINK OF YOU": I found on the computer a reference track for this song–drums, bass, keyboard, and keyboard imitating a fiddle and banjo–that Steve Grayson (aka "The Lone Arranger") had sent me over a year ago, that I'd forgotten in the process of losing my job and moving. I recorded a vocal and lead guitar plinks to it and sent it back to him. If he likes it, I want to post it. What it does show is that my songs sound equally well done with a "standard" country-music band with electric instruments as they do with an all-acoustic bluegrass band. And that's potentially important.
"INVITATION TO ST. PATRICK" is the latest song, a response to one of those on-line songwriters' board challenges. These are good to participate in, because they stimulate creativity within deadlines. In this case, I was able to do it–all of a day to write the song, sing it enough times so I had it memorized, and record rhythm guitar, vocal, and lead plinks in the Garage Studio and mix it. Had it posted most of a week before St. Patrick's Day. It's not album material by any means–it's definitely a St. Patrick's Day song, and probably only performable this time of year–but I did get to test it out on a live audience with the Friday Night Group, and both the band and the audience liked it a lot.
I'm getting some relatively good output out of the Garage Studio, and getting it relatively fast, too–I think because I'm getting the levels down pat on the Tascam, so I don't have to experiment. The result is turning into a fairly consistent "style" that I guess I'm comfortable with. I don't want to have my songs end up all sounding alike–that's a danger in country music–and the "style" thing is giving me a more constricted "box" in which to work. The question is whether I can get enough variety out of the "box."
MORE STUFF: One of the things I do to make sure I'm not bored is always have a backlog of things to do. I've still got "Tugga Paw" (the Swedish country-music song) to finish and record, "Oil in the Cornfield" (presently waiting on The Collaborators), "Prehistoric Roadkill" and two other songs to finish writing. Now that the weather is warming up (finally), the Garage Studio isn't so hard to heat, and I can spend more time there in the evening.
The Friday Night Group folks are a joy to work with–an incredible mix of styles and backgrounds, that can be really surprising when put together in one place. Most are far from professional musicians (there are two retired professionals, however, and one of the fiddlers plays violin in a local symphony orchestra), and they're competent without being stars. The key, though (my opinion) is being familiar with the material, and with each other, and these guys and gals are getting that down. They're becoming familiar with each other's foibles and limitations–as well as strengths–and the result is extremely professional. They are, as the Big Boys like to put it, "radio-ready."
UPDATES
"TURN YOUR RADIO ON": Well, we have the band–Dale on electric bass, Jeannette on fiddle, and Dale, Jeannette, and Ruth (from the audience) doing backup vocals. Kenny, who was going to play lead, had to have a knee operation, so I coerced Wayne, another of the Friday Night Group musicians, into substituting; Wayne is your traditional barroom electric guitarist, but he did know the song–everybody does–and his barroom lead is just perfect for it. NOW the trick is getting everybody into the studio over the next couple of days. Thankfully, since we're "layering" this thing, everybody theoretically doesn't have to be there at once. But we sure did sound good when we played it live.
"WHEN I JUMP OFF THE CLIFF I'LL THINK OF YOU": I found on the computer a reference track for this song–drums, bass, keyboard, and keyboard imitating a fiddle and banjo–that Steve Grayson (aka "The Lone Arranger") had sent me over a year ago, that I'd forgotten in the process of losing my job and moving. I recorded a vocal and lead guitar plinks to it and sent it back to him. If he likes it, I want to post it. What it does show is that my songs sound equally well done with a "standard" country-music band with electric instruments as they do with an all-acoustic bluegrass band. And that's potentially important.
"INVITATION TO ST. PATRICK" is the latest song, a response to one of those on-line songwriters' board challenges. These are good to participate in, because they stimulate creativity within deadlines. In this case, I was able to do it–all of a day to write the song, sing it enough times so I had it memorized, and record rhythm guitar, vocal, and lead plinks in the Garage Studio and mix it. Had it posted most of a week before St. Patrick's Day. It's not album material by any means–it's definitely a St. Patrick's Day song, and probably only performable this time of year–but I did get to test it out on a live audience with the Friday Night Group, and both the band and the audience liked it a lot.
I'm getting some relatively good output out of the Garage Studio, and getting it relatively fast, too–I think because I'm getting the levels down pat on the Tascam, so I don't have to experiment. The result is turning into a fairly consistent "style" that I guess I'm comfortable with. I don't want to have my songs end up all sounding alike–that's a danger in country music–and the "style" thing is giving me a more constricted "box" in which to work. The question is whether I can get enough variety out of the "box."
MORE STUFF: One of the things I do to make sure I'm not bored is always have a backlog of things to do. I've still got "Tugga Paw" (the Swedish country-music song) to finish and record, "Oil in the Cornfield" (presently waiting on The Collaborators), "Prehistoric Roadkill" and two other songs to finish writing. Now that the weather is warming up (finally), the Garage Studio isn't so hard to heat, and I can spend more time there in the evening.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
"TASTE OF TILLAMOOK" (AND OTHER STORIES)
The "Taste of Tillamook" is this weekend. It's basically a food festival–this area is known for its seafood and cheese–but since its first year, they've also featured live music, the idea being that attendees (who are expected to be mostly tourists) should "taste" local talent, too. This year, there will be ONLY ONE LOCAL BAND. They're a 50s rock band (the band members are in their 50s), and they are very good–but ONLY ONE? And this showcase is being put on by our own tax-supported County Economic Development. It does seem that some re-education is in order.
There are two main reasons why a local outfit like this doesn't book local talent. Either (1) they don't know it exists, or (2) they don't think it's any good. Both are soluble problems; solving them does take some involvement and promotion. (Do I have to look in the mirror AGAIN?)
Since the people organizing the "Taste" this year are all new, it's quite possible they don't know. You make sure they're confronted with the information constantly, and from all sorts of directions. They should get free tickets to the "Moograss" Bluegrass Festival, the "Birding and Blues" Festival, the summer "Bluegrass on the Beach," with "you gotta see" emphasis on the local talent. They should get flyers from every band and every artist that's playing a local venue, and flyers from the venues, too. The local recording studio guy should notify ‘em regularly who he's recording–and the people being recorded should make sure County Economic Development gets copies of their CDs.
It's also possible that the "Taste-makers" don't think local talent is any good. That's the "Nazareth Syndrome," so called after the folks in Jesus' hometown who didn't think he was important–how could he be? He was the carpenter's kid. Changing that attitude is harder, because those people have to convince themselves they're wrong (with your help, of course). They need to see (and hear about) local musicians packing venues, and venue owners saying how good it is for business, and audience people gushing about how good these guys (and girls) are. Over time–and sometimes it takes a long time–the attitude can change.
And yes, if I help with it, I'll get noticed, too. Like the late John F. Kennedy once said, "A rising tide lifts all boats." (Well, at least the ones that don't have holes in them.)
UPDATES: Another e-mail call from that California music publisher, this time for songs inspired by art. It's a reach (and she admitted it was a reach, but will listen), but I've sent her "Twenty-Four Seven" (inspired by literature–specifically, cliches), "When I Jump Off the Cliff I'll Think of You" (inspired by a local sculpture with no head, no arms, and no legs), and will send "Dead Porcupine Rag" (inspired by the locally-popular "art" that consists of dead-animal heads hanging on the wall). What I can't do very well is produce "radio-ready" recordings out of the Garage Studio–the facilities and equipment are too primitive, and I'm not good enough at running them.
I did find on the computer an arrangement of the "Cliff" song that had been done some time ago by a performing musician I "met" online (he calls himself "The Lone Arranger"), which I'd forgotten about, and which is quite good. He'd sent me two mixes, one with lead guitar and one without; all I need to add is my vocal (or vocal and lead guitar), and I'll do that and send it to the publisher, too–making sure he gets credit for the work.
"Oil in the Cornfield" may have a reference track to work with by as early as Sunday; I'm still working on "Tugga Paw," the Swedish lyrics I'm setting to country music; Swedish pronunciation is hard, and my lyric sheet is now peppered with cryptic phonetic notes like "the hair in my bra" and "Barbie desperate." NO WORD from "Prairie Home Companion," and I'm not really surprised–I got the same response (or lack thereof) when I tried to pitch the "Duct Tape" song to PBS' "Red Green Show." The Big Boys in the entertainment business are just too insulted from any outside input (they woulod probably be inundated with it otherwise), and I'm not big enough or important enough to make enough noise to get their attention.
SO WHERE'S THE WRITING IN ALL THIS?
All the above has been devoted to RECORDING and MARKETING. Where does WRITING enter into all this? Well, it has been a dead spot, and one of the things I do to cure dead spots is Do Something Different. I spent a couple of days on line, entered a parody contest with a tight deadline and found a "Write a St. Patrick's Day Song" competition that prompted a sleazy blues number that I may never be able to perform in public but is fun to write anyway. I'll go to the regional city managers' conference end of the month, and at least one city manager I know is bringing his guitar; I'll be gone three days. It's only a 160-mile trip, but I'll be sure to leave the radio off in the car.
There are two main reasons why a local outfit like this doesn't book local talent. Either (1) they don't know it exists, or (2) they don't think it's any good. Both are soluble problems; solving them does take some involvement and promotion. (Do I have to look in the mirror AGAIN?)
Since the people organizing the "Taste" this year are all new, it's quite possible they don't know. You make sure they're confronted with the information constantly, and from all sorts of directions. They should get free tickets to the "Moograss" Bluegrass Festival, the "Birding and Blues" Festival, the summer "Bluegrass on the Beach," with "you gotta see" emphasis on the local talent. They should get flyers from every band and every artist that's playing a local venue, and flyers from the venues, too. The local recording studio guy should notify ‘em regularly who he's recording–and the people being recorded should make sure County Economic Development gets copies of their CDs.
It's also possible that the "Taste-makers" don't think local talent is any good. That's the "Nazareth Syndrome," so called after the folks in Jesus' hometown who didn't think he was important–how could he be? He was the carpenter's kid. Changing that attitude is harder, because those people have to convince themselves they're wrong (with your help, of course). They need to see (and hear about) local musicians packing venues, and venue owners saying how good it is for business, and audience people gushing about how good these guys (and girls) are. Over time–and sometimes it takes a long time–the attitude can change.
And yes, if I help with it, I'll get noticed, too. Like the late John F. Kennedy once said, "A rising tide lifts all boats." (Well, at least the ones that don't have holes in them.)
UPDATES: Another e-mail call from that California music publisher, this time for songs inspired by art. It's a reach (and she admitted it was a reach, but will listen), but I've sent her "Twenty-Four Seven" (inspired by literature–specifically, cliches), "When I Jump Off the Cliff I'll Think of You" (inspired by a local sculpture with no head, no arms, and no legs), and will send "Dead Porcupine Rag" (inspired by the locally-popular "art" that consists of dead-animal heads hanging on the wall). What I can't do very well is produce "radio-ready" recordings out of the Garage Studio–the facilities and equipment are too primitive, and I'm not good enough at running them.
I did find on the computer an arrangement of the "Cliff" song that had been done some time ago by a performing musician I "met" online (he calls himself "The Lone Arranger"), which I'd forgotten about, and which is quite good. He'd sent me two mixes, one with lead guitar and one without; all I need to add is my vocal (or vocal and lead guitar), and I'll do that and send it to the publisher, too–making sure he gets credit for the work.
"Oil in the Cornfield" may have a reference track to work with by as early as Sunday; I'm still working on "Tugga Paw," the Swedish lyrics I'm setting to country music; Swedish pronunciation is hard, and my lyric sheet is now peppered with cryptic phonetic notes like "the hair in my bra" and "Barbie desperate." NO WORD from "Prairie Home Companion," and I'm not really surprised–I got the same response (or lack thereof) when I tried to pitch the "Duct Tape" song to PBS' "Red Green Show." The Big Boys in the entertainment business are just too insulted from any outside input (they woulod probably be inundated with it otherwise), and I'm not big enough or important enough to make enough noise to get their attention.
SO WHERE'S THE WRITING IN ALL THIS?
All the above has been devoted to RECORDING and MARKETING. Where does WRITING enter into all this? Well, it has been a dead spot, and one of the things I do to cure dead spots is Do Something Different. I spent a couple of days on line, entered a parody contest with a tight deadline and found a "Write a St. Patrick's Day Song" competition that prompted a sleazy blues number that I may never be able to perform in public but is fun to write anyway. I'll go to the regional city managers' conference end of the month, and at least one city manager I know is bringing his guitar; I'll be gone three days. It's only a 160-mile trip, but I'll be sure to leave the radio off in the car.
Saturday, March 3, 2007
JOB HUNTING...
That I was interviewed for a new job this week is not news. What I did in the course of checking out the new job probably is. I checked online to see if (1) there was a commerical recording studio in the area, (2) there were open mikes, (3) there was an organized group of local musicians, and (4) if there was a Live Music Scene. Music has become an important sideline, and if that cultural infrastructure didn't exist, I'd find myself wanting to create it.
The good news is it's a culturally active area; besides a fairly well-known Shakespeare Festival (in a nearby town with the college), there's a classical music festival in another town and an annual Spam Festival (yes!) In a third. I found (1) one recording studio that advertises on line (and a musician friend of mine in the area told me there are several more), (2) an active songwriters' association that (3) appears to hold 1-3 open mikes a month, in various venues, and (4) reportedly one of the music stores is trying to set up weekly concerts with various local musicians (the Baker City Opry started that was over in Eastern Oregon–they moved to a bigger hall when they outgrew the music store).
Bottom line? I could live there. Now I just need the job...
UPDATES:
"TURN YOUR RADIO ON": A fellow in the next town (5 miles away) has two bedrooms in his house set up as a recording studio, and has done some work for others; one room is the Recording Space, the other a control room, both pretty small (bedrooms are not large these days). He has really good equipment; I don't know if he knows how to use it, but we're going to find out–I recorded a reference track for the song (lead vocal and rhythm guitar), and will pass it on to the Friday Night Group members involved in the project, and then we'll bring ‘em in and "layer" the various parts–bass, lead guitar, fiddle, and vocals. He's willing to do it for free. (Brought CDs of the ref track by last night's gig, too, for the Group members.)
If the results are good, I will probably have some paying work for him–an album of songs by the Friday Night Group (I've been talking up the idea of a benefit for NKN High School's music program), and maybe one for me, too (I have that whole album of love songs, remember).
PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION: Alas, nothing. I recall I got the same response when I tried to pitch the "Duct Tape" song to PBS' Red Green Show a few years back–dead, I-wonder-if-they-even-have-mail-service-over-there silence. At least when you apply for city-manager jobs, you get rejection letters...
The good news is it's a culturally active area; besides a fairly well-known Shakespeare Festival (in a nearby town with the college), there's a classical music festival in another town and an annual Spam Festival (yes!) In a third. I found (1) one recording studio that advertises on line (and a musician friend of mine in the area told me there are several more), (2) an active songwriters' association that (3) appears to hold 1-3 open mikes a month, in various venues, and (4) reportedly one of the music stores is trying to set up weekly concerts with various local musicians (the Baker City Opry started that was over in Eastern Oregon–they moved to a bigger hall when they outgrew the music store).
Bottom line? I could live there. Now I just need the job...
UPDATES:
"TURN YOUR RADIO ON": A fellow in the next town (5 miles away) has two bedrooms in his house set up as a recording studio, and has done some work for others; one room is the Recording Space, the other a control room, both pretty small (bedrooms are not large these days). He has really good equipment; I don't know if he knows how to use it, but we're going to find out–I recorded a reference track for the song (lead vocal and rhythm guitar), and will pass it on to the Friday Night Group members involved in the project, and then we'll bring ‘em in and "layer" the various parts–bass, lead guitar, fiddle, and vocals. He's willing to do it for free. (Brought CDs of the ref track by last night's gig, too, for the Group members.)
If the results are good, I will probably have some paying work for him–an album of songs by the Friday Night Group (I've been talking up the idea of a benefit for NKN High School's music program), and maybe one for me, too (I have that whole album of love songs, remember).
PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION: Alas, nothing. I recall I got the same response when I tried to pitch the "Duct Tape" song to PBS' Red Green Show a few years back–dead, I-wonder-if-they-even-have-mail-service-over-there silence. At least when you apply for city-manager jobs, you get rejection letters...
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