“Crosses by the Roadside” is a good song, they say. “Best you ever wrote,” they say. (Didn’t even have to pay them to say that.) Best I’ll ever write? Probably not. The key is to keep writing. That way you know the best is always ahead.
It is rather a compelling melody, difficult to get out of my head—and the only way to get it out is to go do something else. Unfortunately, I don’t have anything finishable right now (the couple of partial songs that are hanging fire still don’t have any worthwhile additions). I can revert to recording the few songs of other folks that I have music for, and maybe that will help. One by Beth Williams, one by Stan Good, one by somebody else that I got talked into helping finish (I hate it when that happens—but the song would be a real tear-jerker if done right), and the Swedish country-music song, “Tugga Pa,” that’s been hanging fire for a long time while I try to perfect my Swedish pronunciations. I do have a few things to keep me busy. Immerse myself in them, and I might be able to drive the “Crosses” melody out of my head.
I did hear back from one of the music publishers. He sorta liked “Crosses by the Roadside,” but wants it re-written—different hook, and he wants it to be shorter (it’s presently 4:58, with a lead break). He thinks it’s too sad, too. I think my answer’s going to be “no.” The lyrics stay the way they are. I know it’s a sad song; I get embarrassed about writing anything sad, because I would really rather make people happy—but if I’m going to do it, I am going to pull out all the stops and do the best job I can. Moderating that is like blunting a sharp tool. In the same vein, the hook is what it is; it’s the one thing that didn’t change one bit in all the massaging and tweaking the song went through. I have a feeling it’s stuck in place. And if the hook were different, wouldn’t it be a whole different song?
I got rather better advice from the writers at Just Plain Folks. They didn’t have any “nits” about the words. One suggestion I got for shortening it was to simply lop off the last chorus, ending the song after the last verse, and that would work. That hook is repeated plenty of times, in verses as well as chorus. I can cut more time if I need to by simply eliminating the lead break (and I’d do that anyway if I were playing it solo). Those considerations are important; if I record this in Nashville, at the Pineyfest Demo Derby, Mike Dunbar and his session guys are going to insist the song be a maximum of 4-1/2 minutes long. But I don’t need to change the words to do that.
I did get a request from a performing songwriter I know, asking if he could perform and record it, and I told him “sure.” He does good work, and he’s covered a couple other of my songs before. (And he thinks it’ll interest a crowd just the way it’s written, without changes. I trust his opinion more than the publisher guy’s.)
Does beg the question whether I’d make the changes (or let the publisher do it) if the dude were offering me a wad of money to do so. (Publishers don’t normally do that, by the way.) My level of interest in doing that would be governed by my need for money, which is pretty severe right now; I might well take the money and run, and console myself with the knowledge that I’d be writing more songs. As it is, though, he’s not. A publisher is like a real estate agent—he only thinks he can market your property, he’s not guaranteeing it. In this instance, it’s a little like a car dealer saying he could sell your 1-ton truck easier if it had a 4-cylinder motor in it. He might be right, and he might not. I don’t feel like replacing the engine right now, and if that means he’s not going to feel like trying to sell it, that’s probably okay.
I do want to make sure, however, that I leave the door open to be able to send him more stuff in the future; it is really important to have a publisher you can do that with. Accordingly, I don’t want to convey the impression I’m rejecting his “change this” ideas out of hand. I might well want to change things in a different song, in the future. Besides, Nashville thrives on this “flexibility” mantra—you don’t want to be marked as someone who doesn’t play well with others, or you won’t get any business.
I did play “Crosses” with the Friday Night Group (yes, we get together even on the Friday after Thanksgiving), and it went over pretty good with them and the small audience. They liked the humorous songs better, though. They always do.
Joe
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
THANKSGIVING...
Day before Thanksgiving… time to review what to be thankful for. This year, it’s a short list, thanks in large part to the economy; my wife says one of the things I should be thankful for is she still has a job, and I agree (and I said I’d mention it). To those who have been reading this thing, whoever and however many of you there are, I am thankful you’re there, too. I hope whatever information is being disseminated here is helpful.
There are a few—a very few—copies of the “Santa’s Fallen” CD left from the last (fourth) pressing, that I’d like to sell off for Christmas money. If anyone doesn’t have one, and wants one, please contact me. Ten bucks apiece, as usual, and I’ll autograph it, as usual. (This is not the only place I’ll be making that announcement, and there are not many copies left.) I won’t have another album out before Christmas because there just is not the money; it’s going to have to wait for better times. I do not know how long the better times will be in coming.
“Crosses by the Roadside” has gotten a fair amount of attention, but attention and money are two different things. Two music publishers have been contacted (I sent the song to one, and notified the other it was available), but I’ve heard nothing and probably shouldn’t expect to. The third (I know only three) is firm about not accepting any unsolicited material. I understand. If I were a publisher—and I hope to be one—I’d probably be the same way. There is a lot of [insert fecal simile] out there, and one can drown in it. I’d be selective, too—I’d have a small number of people I’d “handle” whose material and output I was familiar with, and then on rare occasions I’d cast out a small bit of bait and see what astounding new stuff I could reel in.
I saw someone ask on line how a band got paid when they recorded a song someone else wrote. I think the answer is the band either got paid a flat fee as session musicians when the song was recorded, or had an all-or-part share in the production of the record, and could maybe make money off sales. Only the writer and publisher get those minuscule copyright royalties. (In Europe, I understand, there are “performance royalties” for the band/artist, but that appears to be something the record companies in the U.S. have resisted.)
One way the band could make money is if the band were the publishing company. I don’t know if there are any bands doing this. It’s not a bad idea.
It would entail some marketing savvy on the part of the band (or the band manager), but a working band that’s making some money already is doing some marketing; it wouldn’t be that big a stretch. Of course, most small-time bands, or bands just starting out, don’t think of these things. It’s not until you’re making money selling records, or trying to get a song played on the radio, that you run up against the copyright royalties thing. Being the publishing company would be a good way for a working band to get some good original material—attractive to both the writer and the band (since the system would ensure both got paid a little money in the form of royalties).
Does that mean there’s a future for a Southern Pigfish Publishing Company? Not yet; the band would have to be famous enough so having your song “cut” by Southern Pigfish meant some financial reward. Not there yet. Might be a model for others, though.
With that, I’m off to buy fish for Thanksgiving dinner at my nephew’s (vegetarian, me—they can have turkey, but I can’t). Parting shot: as you drive over the river and through the woods, and keep seeing those roadside crosses, please don’t question whether those folks are better off than you are. The question’s already been asked—by me. Be thankful for the hand you’ve been dealt.
Joe
There are a few—a very few—copies of the “Santa’s Fallen” CD left from the last (fourth) pressing, that I’d like to sell off for Christmas money. If anyone doesn’t have one, and wants one, please contact me. Ten bucks apiece, as usual, and I’ll autograph it, as usual. (This is not the only place I’ll be making that announcement, and there are not many copies left.) I won’t have another album out before Christmas because there just is not the money; it’s going to have to wait for better times. I do not know how long the better times will be in coming.
“Crosses by the Roadside” has gotten a fair amount of attention, but attention and money are two different things. Two music publishers have been contacted (I sent the song to one, and notified the other it was available), but I’ve heard nothing and probably shouldn’t expect to. The third (I know only three) is firm about not accepting any unsolicited material. I understand. If I were a publisher—and I hope to be one—I’d probably be the same way. There is a lot of [insert fecal simile] out there, and one can drown in it. I’d be selective, too—I’d have a small number of people I’d “handle” whose material and output I was familiar with, and then on rare occasions I’d cast out a small bit of bait and see what astounding new stuff I could reel in.
I saw someone ask on line how a band got paid when they recorded a song someone else wrote. I think the answer is the band either got paid a flat fee as session musicians when the song was recorded, or had an all-or-part share in the production of the record, and could maybe make money off sales. Only the writer and publisher get those minuscule copyright royalties. (In Europe, I understand, there are “performance royalties” for the band/artist, but that appears to be something the record companies in the U.S. have resisted.)
One way the band could make money is if the band were the publishing company. I don’t know if there are any bands doing this. It’s not a bad idea.
It would entail some marketing savvy on the part of the band (or the band manager), but a working band that’s making some money already is doing some marketing; it wouldn’t be that big a stretch. Of course, most small-time bands, or bands just starting out, don’t think of these things. It’s not until you’re making money selling records, or trying to get a song played on the radio, that you run up against the copyright royalties thing. Being the publishing company would be a good way for a working band to get some good original material—attractive to both the writer and the band (since the system would ensure both got paid a little money in the form of royalties).
Does that mean there’s a future for a Southern Pigfish Publishing Company? Not yet; the band would have to be famous enough so having your song “cut” by Southern Pigfish meant some financial reward. Not there yet. Might be a model for others, though.
With that, I’m off to buy fish for Thanksgiving dinner at my nephew’s (vegetarian, me—they can have turkey, but I can’t). Parting shot: as you drive over the river and through the woods, and keep seeing those roadside crosses, please don’t question whether those folks are better off than you are. The question’s already been asked—by me. Be thankful for the hand you’ve been dealt.
Joe
Monday, November 24, 2008
"CROSSES BY THE ROADSIDE"...
NEW SONG: I haven’t been able to say that in a long time. The lyrics are presently undergoing peer review (I always submit the lyrics first), and we’ll see what the critics think; I think it’s pretty good, but I’ve learned not to trust my own judgment about these things.
Hight (tentatively) “Crosses by the Roadside.” It’s a good tearjerker of a lost-love song—in this case, the love is lost apparently because somebody died—that poses the question whether it may be worse to be left alive. Serious song—and I wasn’t intending it to be serious when I started.
Does raise—again—the question where inspiration comes from. I know in general there’s a close connection between Inspiration and Pain; that’s why I try (to the extent I can) not to have too comfortable a life—I don’t want that inspiration to go away. But why this song? I didn’t have anybody die, or even leave; I have a friend who may be dying, but he certainly shows no signs of being about to yet. True, there are the crosses around, rather a lot of them—US 101 once won an award as one of the most dangerous roads in the United States.
I did hear complaints from other songwriters that a lot of people seem to be writing sad songs right close to this Thanksgiving, so what I did may be a symptom of a general malaise. At a time when we’re all supposed to be feeling thankful and hopeful, a lot of folks just don’t have a lot to feel thankful or hopeful about. And the feeling of loss may stem from that definite impression that the past was better. And it’s gone now.
So maybe I’ve got a song that’s maybe a bit better than average. What can I do with it? This has happened a couple of times before; I’ve come up with something that—my opinion, of course—just might have Hit Potential, and I’ve had nowhere to take it. Yes, I can perform it in public, and get the usual oohs and aahs, and it can get played a lot on the OMD Websites like Soundclick and Whitby Shores, and maybe a few performing musicians like me will add it to their repertoires, and of course it can go on a CD, and copies of the CD will sell. But that’s all relatively small potatoes. Is it possible to do better?
Maybe. I did get connected with one Nashville music publisher who had offered on one of the writers’ sites I subscribe to do do free reviews of people’s songs, and I did send him one; I haven’t heard back from him (not surprising—these guys are busy), and that’s an excuse to contact him, and ask if he’d give a listen to “Crosses by the Roadside.” He may be my best shot. I am on the mailing list of one other publisher (in California), but as I’ve noted before, she doesn’t accept unsolicited material. The best I can do there is e-mail her and ask—and maybe not expect a response. I’ve got a few other contacts in Nashville, but they’re mostly folks trying to break into the business, just like me.
(And it’s possible there may NOT be the Hit Potential. Didn’t Randy Travis have a big hit a few years ago with a song about three crosses? Did he manage to sew up the market with it, to the point where nobody can do songs about dead people crosses? I did have somebody suggest that. I don’t know, and will have to find out.)
I did record it—minimalist, with just rhythm and lead guitar (both played by me). It fell together in just a few takes, so I assume that’s how it was meant to be. I’ll plan on performing it with the Friday Night Group to see how a crowd reacts.
Joe
Hight (tentatively) “Crosses by the Roadside.” It’s a good tearjerker of a lost-love song—in this case, the love is lost apparently because somebody died—that poses the question whether it may be worse to be left alive. Serious song—and I wasn’t intending it to be serious when I started.
Does raise—again—the question where inspiration comes from. I know in general there’s a close connection between Inspiration and Pain; that’s why I try (to the extent I can) not to have too comfortable a life—I don’t want that inspiration to go away. But why this song? I didn’t have anybody die, or even leave; I have a friend who may be dying, but he certainly shows no signs of being about to yet. True, there are the crosses around, rather a lot of them—US 101 once won an award as one of the most dangerous roads in the United States.
I did hear complaints from other songwriters that a lot of people seem to be writing sad songs right close to this Thanksgiving, so what I did may be a symptom of a general malaise. At a time when we’re all supposed to be feeling thankful and hopeful, a lot of folks just don’t have a lot to feel thankful or hopeful about. And the feeling of loss may stem from that definite impression that the past was better. And it’s gone now.
So maybe I’ve got a song that’s maybe a bit better than average. What can I do with it? This has happened a couple of times before; I’ve come up with something that—my opinion, of course—just might have Hit Potential, and I’ve had nowhere to take it. Yes, I can perform it in public, and get the usual oohs and aahs, and it can get played a lot on the OMD Websites like Soundclick and Whitby Shores, and maybe a few performing musicians like me will add it to their repertoires, and of course it can go on a CD, and copies of the CD will sell. But that’s all relatively small potatoes. Is it possible to do better?
Maybe. I did get connected with one Nashville music publisher who had offered on one of the writers’ sites I subscribe to do do free reviews of people’s songs, and I did send him one; I haven’t heard back from him (not surprising—these guys are busy), and that’s an excuse to contact him, and ask if he’d give a listen to “Crosses by the Roadside.” He may be my best shot. I am on the mailing list of one other publisher (in California), but as I’ve noted before, she doesn’t accept unsolicited material. The best I can do there is e-mail her and ask—and maybe not expect a response. I’ve got a few other contacts in Nashville, but they’re mostly folks trying to break into the business, just like me.
(And it’s possible there may NOT be the Hit Potential. Didn’t Randy Travis have a big hit a few years ago with a song about three crosses? Did he manage to sew up the market with it, to the point where nobody can do songs about dead people crosses? I did have somebody suggest that. I don’t know, and will have to find out.)
I did record it—minimalist, with just rhythm and lead guitar (both played by me). It fell together in just a few takes, so I assume that’s how it was meant to be. I’ll plan on performing it with the Friday Night Group to see how a crowd reacts.
Joe
Friday, November 21, 2008
OOO! A PROJECT!
Two friends want to record an album as a Christmas present for their grandchildren. Can I do it? Yes. In fact, I can handle production from beginning to end, including burning the CDs and putting labels on them. Great opportunity for the Tone-Deaf Sound Engineer.
I explained my limitations. The Tascam has just 4 tracks, and 2 inputs (guitar and mike) that have to be used separately. I have one singing mike, and one stand. If I’m going to record two of anything—two voices, or two guitars—I have to do them separately.
And it occurred to me those last statements aren’t quite true. I have two mike stands (picked one up at a garage sale that needs a head fitting) and a couple of extra mikes I’ve never tried out (same garage sale). I have the ancient 6-channel mixer, too, that I’ve never used, and the adapter I had Radio Shack make me for it so I could use electricity instead of a pile of batteries. I also have two sets of headphones, but I may be able to use only one at a time (they have different ends, too). Abovementioned friends have a couple of wireless mikes of their own, but I don’t know if they have stands for them.
I probably need all of that stuff to record these guys. Their guitars aren’t electrified (and one is an old F-hole type that can’t be rigged with a conventional pickup); unless they want to play my guitar, they’ll have to be miked. I probably want to put one of them on one “side” of the virtual “stage” and one on the other, and record their miked guitar and vocal simultaneously, one person at a time.
We’ll want to record two lead instruments—his harmonica and my guitar—and that, I think uses up the other two tracks, unless I want to try recording his harmonica lead while his wife is singing. (I may not want to push the Sound Engineer persona that far.)
I’ll want to remember the settings, because I will use them again—for every song on the CD. Poor man’s mastering, that—if the volume settings are the same for every song, it’s effectively mastered without having to do anything else. (I can use Audacity for mastering, but I’m not sure I know enough about the program to do it well.) We convert the mixed files to *.cda (CD-Audio) format, and decide what order they’re going to go in on the CD. I can burn the CDs on the old Akai CD burner, but the computer can do it, too (it’s just slower).
The one limitation I can do little about is the minuscule size of the Tascam’s “brain,” which is a small-capacity digital-camera chip. Normally, I can’t fit any more than one song on it. If we’re really good—i.e., if we can record each track with a minimum of re-takes—I might be able to fit two mixes on the chip before having to drive home and dump them to the computer. We all do live in the same town, but I still might not be able to do more than four or so songs a day.
They still have to pick the songs. (I wonder if they’d want to do any of mine?) I told them to plan on an hour’s worth of music (12-13 songs); over that, almost anybody gets boring.
From the graphic-design end, I get to design the label (which will have their photo—which I’ll take—on it), and print it, too. I’ll do all this for the cost of materials (probably a little over $2 per CD), because they’re friends; if it comes out good, they can tell other folks, and I might have some sideline work.
UPDATES: Not much. Nobody’s answered my responses to the ads on Portland Craigslist; Movie Dude (he of the “aging rock star” film) never called back; no word, either, from the folks who run that open mike in nearby Bay City. No Santa gigs, either (though I have grown a full Santa-style white beard just in case). Still playing with the Friday Night Group on Friday nights, and I’m still getting asked about the next album—which at this point I can’t afford to finish. My poster for the library’s Saturday afternoon music thing has reportedly gotten a lot of attention, and I reminded the librarian I’m up for paying work.
Joe
I explained my limitations. The Tascam has just 4 tracks, and 2 inputs (guitar and mike) that have to be used separately. I have one singing mike, and one stand. If I’m going to record two of anything—two voices, or two guitars—I have to do them separately.
And it occurred to me those last statements aren’t quite true. I have two mike stands (picked one up at a garage sale that needs a head fitting) and a couple of extra mikes I’ve never tried out (same garage sale). I have the ancient 6-channel mixer, too, that I’ve never used, and the adapter I had Radio Shack make me for it so I could use electricity instead of a pile of batteries. I also have two sets of headphones, but I may be able to use only one at a time (they have different ends, too). Abovementioned friends have a couple of wireless mikes of their own, but I don’t know if they have stands for them.
I probably need all of that stuff to record these guys. Their guitars aren’t electrified (and one is an old F-hole type that can’t be rigged with a conventional pickup); unless they want to play my guitar, they’ll have to be miked. I probably want to put one of them on one “side” of the virtual “stage” and one on the other, and record their miked guitar and vocal simultaneously, one person at a time.
We’ll want to record two lead instruments—his harmonica and my guitar—and that, I think uses up the other two tracks, unless I want to try recording his harmonica lead while his wife is singing. (I may not want to push the Sound Engineer persona that far.)
I’ll want to remember the settings, because I will use them again—for every song on the CD. Poor man’s mastering, that—if the volume settings are the same for every song, it’s effectively mastered without having to do anything else. (I can use Audacity for mastering, but I’m not sure I know enough about the program to do it well.) We convert the mixed files to *.cda (CD-Audio) format, and decide what order they’re going to go in on the CD. I can burn the CDs on the old Akai CD burner, but the computer can do it, too (it’s just slower).
The one limitation I can do little about is the minuscule size of the Tascam’s “brain,” which is a small-capacity digital-camera chip. Normally, I can’t fit any more than one song on it. If we’re really good—i.e., if we can record each track with a minimum of re-takes—I might be able to fit two mixes on the chip before having to drive home and dump them to the computer. We all do live in the same town, but I still might not be able to do more than four or so songs a day.
They still have to pick the songs. (I wonder if they’d want to do any of mine?) I told them to plan on an hour’s worth of music (12-13 songs); over that, almost anybody gets boring.
From the graphic-design end, I get to design the label (which will have their photo—which I’ll take—on it), and print it, too. I’ll do all this for the cost of materials (probably a little over $2 per CD), because they’re friends; if it comes out good, they can tell other folks, and I might have some sideline work.
UPDATES: Not much. Nobody’s answered my responses to the ads on Portland Craigslist; Movie Dude (he of the “aging rock star” film) never called back; no word, either, from the folks who run that open mike in nearby Bay City. No Santa gigs, either (though I have grown a full Santa-style white beard just in case). Still playing with the Friday Night Group on Friday nights, and I’m still getting asked about the next album—which at this point I can’t afford to finish. My poster for the library’s Saturday afternoon music thing has reportedly gotten a lot of attention, and I reminded the librarian I’m up for paying work.
Joe
Monday, November 17, 2008
THE PIGFISH ALBUM LIST...
John (the bass player) wanted a CD of Southern Pigfish songs for practice. I think the way to approach it is to act as if the Southern Pigfish album were going to be produced right now, today, and all there was to pick from was my songs. What would go on the album would be:
For Their Own Ends
Bedpans for Brains
Vampire Roumanian Babies
Dirty Deeds We Done to Sheep
Test Tube Baby
Born Again Barbie
Naked Space Hamsters in Love
When I Jump Off the Cliff, I’ll Think of You
The World Enquirer
Bluebird on My Windshield
Rotten Candy
Three folk-rock, two rock ‘n’ roll, one Gospel (“Barbie”), three bluegrass, and two country. I’d add the Norwegian Black/Death Metal tune, “Evil Dead Fairies in My Mobile Home,” but I don’t have a draft recorded yet. (I might know a couple of people who could help with that, however.) A good cross-section of genres on which the band can put their own “spin,” and show off their capabilities.
As for what the band could perform, it’s really just more of the same. If we’re talking only about my stuff (and I don’t know that for sure), I have over 60 “keepers”—over FIVE HOURS of performable music, in other words. Add in the collabs, of which there’s maybe an album’s worth now, and we’ve got SIX HOURS. That’s why it’s possible to adjust a setlist to the prejudices of a crowd—to do all kid-friendly songs for the Neskowin Harvest Festival, for instance.
ANOTHER GIG, MAYBE? I went job-chasing one night last week; it’s not something I’ve done before, but troubled times require troubled measures (or something like that). There’s a recreation district north of here that lost their general manager (they also lost the contents of their bank account about the same time), and are looking for a new one (manager, that is). Not a problem: I am good with money, and I do seem to end up working for people with financial problems. So I went to their board meeting, to introduce myself, find out when they were advertising the job, and so on.
I may end up getting a gig out of it, if not (or in addition to) a job. They were agonizing over how to raise money, which prompted (from me) the old Mickey Rooney-Judy Garland response—“Let’s put on a show!” So they got one of my “Wanted in 6 states for playing bad country music” business cards, and they told me the building (an old grade school) has a huge auditorium with a stage, that doesn’t get used that much. We could take care of that…
BROCHURE: Need to re-do the “Joe is Great!” brochure, which got erased in the course of outfitting “Alice” the computer with Windows XP (WinXP deleted all software not made by Microsoft, and all files created with any software not made by Microsoft—very nasty people). The brochure was due for an upgrade anyway; I have new photos and new press clippings to add.
The brochure is the only part of the “press packet” (photo, CD and brochure) that has much of any writing on it, so what writing it does have on it needs to be attention-getting as well as concise. So we’ll have a brief description of the music, a list of awards (it’s a short list), juicy quotes from the press clippings, and photos of me playing in various places. The “Wanted in 6 states” logo designed by my daughter, and the contact information—e-mail and snail-mail, home phone and cell phone (the brochure is the only piece of the”press packet” that has that information). They can’t get hold of you if they don’t know how.
UPDATES: No on the movie part (I did offer to write original music for the film, too, but haven’t got a response to that). I have a part in Country Rose’s Christmas radio play (as Santa), and a few collabs left to finish. Re-recorded “The World Enquirer,” one of my earliest songs (the original recording was mono), and even though I didn’t use it on the cut, I found an effects setting for the electric banjo that works—it’s obviously a banjo, and obviously electric, at the same time.
joe
For Their Own Ends
Bedpans for Brains
Vampire Roumanian Babies
Dirty Deeds We Done to Sheep
Test Tube Baby
Born Again Barbie
Naked Space Hamsters in Love
When I Jump Off the Cliff, I’ll Think of You
The World Enquirer
Bluebird on My Windshield
Rotten Candy
Three folk-rock, two rock ‘n’ roll, one Gospel (“Barbie”), three bluegrass, and two country. I’d add the Norwegian Black/Death Metal tune, “Evil Dead Fairies in My Mobile Home,” but I don’t have a draft recorded yet. (I might know a couple of people who could help with that, however.) A good cross-section of genres on which the band can put their own “spin,” and show off their capabilities.
As for what the band could perform, it’s really just more of the same. If we’re talking only about my stuff (and I don’t know that for sure), I have over 60 “keepers”—over FIVE HOURS of performable music, in other words. Add in the collabs, of which there’s maybe an album’s worth now, and we’ve got SIX HOURS. That’s why it’s possible to adjust a setlist to the prejudices of a crowd—to do all kid-friendly songs for the Neskowin Harvest Festival, for instance.
ANOTHER GIG, MAYBE? I went job-chasing one night last week; it’s not something I’ve done before, but troubled times require troubled measures (or something like that). There’s a recreation district north of here that lost their general manager (they also lost the contents of their bank account about the same time), and are looking for a new one (manager, that is). Not a problem: I am good with money, and I do seem to end up working for people with financial problems. So I went to their board meeting, to introduce myself, find out when they were advertising the job, and so on.
I may end up getting a gig out of it, if not (or in addition to) a job. They were agonizing over how to raise money, which prompted (from me) the old Mickey Rooney-Judy Garland response—“Let’s put on a show!” So they got one of my “Wanted in 6 states for playing bad country music” business cards, and they told me the building (an old grade school) has a huge auditorium with a stage, that doesn’t get used that much. We could take care of that…
BROCHURE: Need to re-do the “Joe is Great!” brochure, which got erased in the course of outfitting “Alice” the computer with Windows XP (WinXP deleted all software not made by Microsoft, and all files created with any software not made by Microsoft—very nasty people). The brochure was due for an upgrade anyway; I have new photos and new press clippings to add.
The brochure is the only part of the “press packet” (photo, CD and brochure) that has much of any writing on it, so what writing it does have on it needs to be attention-getting as well as concise. So we’ll have a brief description of the music, a list of awards (it’s a short list), juicy quotes from the press clippings, and photos of me playing in various places. The “Wanted in 6 states” logo designed by my daughter, and the contact information—e-mail and snail-mail, home phone and cell phone (the brochure is the only piece of the”press packet” that has that information). They can’t get hold of you if they don’t know how.
UPDATES: No on the movie part (I did offer to write original music for the film, too, but haven’t got a response to that). I have a part in Country Rose’s Christmas radio play (as Santa), and a few collabs left to finish. Re-recorded “The World Enquirer,” one of my earliest songs (the original recording was mono), and even though I didn’t use it on the cut, I found an effects setting for the electric banjo that works—it’s obviously a banjo, and obviously electric, at the same time.
joe
Sunday, November 9, 2008
NOT GOING TO BE IN A MOVIE...
I got offered an audition for a movie, but I’ve pretty much decided to shine it on. Instead, I’ll be judging speech tournaments for my daughter’s college, several weekends this winter, because that pays ($50 a day, plus hotel room and maybe meals), and the movie part doesn’t. The glory—if there was any—might have been nice, but sometimes y’gotta go where the money is.
It’d have been just a bit part—an aging rock star reduced to performing in karaoke bars. I did have a problem with the part as written, because the character—“Bubba,” they called him—comes across almost as a caricature, and I thought of him more as a tragic figure. I know people like that. Heck, I could even be somebody like that.
What if you really did peak early? What if you had to wake up every morning realizing the best you were ever going to be was behind you—a long way behind you? What if the band that made you a hit, or a sort of hit, are gone—half of them dead, maybe, from too much sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll—and nobody takes you seriously any more because you’re too old? But you have to keep performing—dressing up every weekend to go sing in some hole of a bar—and you can’t explain why. Yes, I understand. The role hits awfully close to home.
That’s probably where some of the motivation behind the latest blues came from. Tentatively titled “Crosses by the Roadside.” (Yes, we’re back to lost-love songs now that the election’s over.) I haven’t decided whether the girlfriend in the song died, or just ran away—and I haven’t decided if it matters. The lyrics are coming out pretty strange, so maybe it’ll be something for Southern Pigfish to record.
With the idea of having Southern Pigfish be the guinea pigs for the flash-drive album—I need a band anyway, after all—there are several of my songs they could probably do pretty well, that’d fit in with their folk-rock style:
Born Again Barbie (co-written with Scott Rose)
Dirty Deeds We Done to Sheep
Test Tube Baby (an old Dodson Drifters hit)
Vampire Roumanian Babies
Bedpans for Brains
For Their Own Ends
The last three, of course, were written specifically for them. “Bedpans for Brains” and “Born Again Barbie” are fully scripted music videos, and the rest could be adapted pretty easily, with a lot of live footage of the band. I’d probably have to do the vocals—but it’d be neat to do duets with the Dylanesque girl singer.
Resources? Well, I’ve got that video camera I don’t know how to use (that needs a $60 battery pack), but I do know it’ll hook up to a PA system. One would want a second camera, I think, to do close-ups of the performers, and then meld them in at strategic points. If we brought in an outside musician—Dan Doshier playing mandolin from 300 miles away, for instance—one could film them separate and splice in the footage one needed. I wonder if the local community college offers any film classes?
UPDATES: No from the Old Mill—they say they have all their performers booked for the season (which means I didn’t contact them soon enough). The librarian did like my poster, and they’ve got my photo, too (just a couple of instruments), and are putting it all over the library’s Website. Nice to know I finally did something somebody liked. Another rejection for a city manager job; I think I’ll concentrate on the private sector from now on. If the government’s got no use for me, I certainly got no use for the government. (I said the same thing about Nashville several years ago. And it’s been a relationship that’s worked out pretty well for both of us.)
Joe
It’d have been just a bit part—an aging rock star reduced to performing in karaoke bars. I did have a problem with the part as written, because the character—“Bubba,” they called him—comes across almost as a caricature, and I thought of him more as a tragic figure. I know people like that. Heck, I could even be somebody like that.
What if you really did peak early? What if you had to wake up every morning realizing the best you were ever going to be was behind you—a long way behind you? What if the band that made you a hit, or a sort of hit, are gone—half of them dead, maybe, from too much sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll—and nobody takes you seriously any more because you’re too old? But you have to keep performing—dressing up every weekend to go sing in some hole of a bar—and you can’t explain why. Yes, I understand. The role hits awfully close to home.
That’s probably where some of the motivation behind the latest blues came from. Tentatively titled “Crosses by the Roadside.” (Yes, we’re back to lost-love songs now that the election’s over.) I haven’t decided whether the girlfriend in the song died, or just ran away—and I haven’t decided if it matters. The lyrics are coming out pretty strange, so maybe it’ll be something for Southern Pigfish to record.
With the idea of having Southern Pigfish be the guinea pigs for the flash-drive album—I need a band anyway, after all—there are several of my songs they could probably do pretty well, that’d fit in with their folk-rock style:
Born Again Barbie (co-written with Scott Rose)
Dirty Deeds We Done to Sheep
Test Tube Baby (an old Dodson Drifters hit)
Vampire Roumanian Babies
Bedpans for Brains
For Their Own Ends
The last three, of course, were written specifically for them. “Bedpans for Brains” and “Born Again Barbie” are fully scripted music videos, and the rest could be adapted pretty easily, with a lot of live footage of the band. I’d probably have to do the vocals—but it’d be neat to do duets with the Dylanesque girl singer.
Resources? Well, I’ve got that video camera I don’t know how to use (that needs a $60 battery pack), but I do know it’ll hook up to a PA system. One would want a second camera, I think, to do close-ups of the performers, and then meld them in at strategic points. If we brought in an outside musician—Dan Doshier playing mandolin from 300 miles away, for instance—one could film them separate and splice in the footage one needed. I wonder if the local community college offers any film classes?
UPDATES: No from the Old Mill—they say they have all their performers booked for the season (which means I didn’t contact them soon enough). The librarian did like my poster, and they’ve got my photo, too (just a couple of instruments), and are putting it all over the library’s Website. Nice to know I finally did something somebody liked. Another rejection for a city manager job; I think I’ll concentrate on the private sector from now on. If the government’s got no use for me, I certainly got no use for the government. (I said the same thing about Nashville several years ago. And it’s been a relationship that’s worked out pretty well for both of us.)
Joe
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
THANKS, EVERYBODY...
The last issue of “The Writer’s Blog” prompted an outpouring of messages of hope and encouragement for which I am extremely grateful. I had no idea that many people were reading this thing. Thanks, everybody. A lot of folks urged me to take my 15 years’ experience as a city manager and use it to do something else for a living. I think I will.
As noted in the first issue of the blog, nearly two years ago, the blog is describing a journey, hopefully to success as a songwriter. Like all journeys, there are potholes and washed-out bridges and abandoned things along the way. If anything I do works, and other people can imitate it or better it, that’s a good thing. And if what I do doesn’t work, well, remember the old proverb—“Some people’s purpose in life is to serve as an example to others.”
I visited some old friends (about 20 years older, in fact) and got encouragement and ideas from them, too. They’re very religious folks, of “the Lord will provide” variety—and the weird thing is, the Lord does provide in their case. Things just happen around them—precisely what they need (no more, no less), precisely when they need it. They are a walking advertisement for why one should be serious about religion.
They had ideas for jobs, and for gigs, and I’ll follow up. I had no idea (for instance) that some nursing homes were paying musicians to come perform, and that there was a company that arranged those bookings—but one of our local nursing homes uses the service, and I’ll talk to them. Said couple also telephoned the people back in Virginia who run the Museum—because (of course) they know them personally. (And there will be a gig—a paying one. Won’t happen till next summer, and I don’t know if it’ll be solo or with a band, but there will be a gig.)
I sent e-mails to the folks who do the open mike in nearby Bay City, to a music store in Vancouver (WA) looking for live performers, and a Portland (OR) cable-access TV station (ditto). First draft of the poster for the “Saturday Thing” at the Tillamook library is done, too, though I won’t hear from the librarian for a couple of days.
And I went to the bluegrass jam the State Forestry Center’s been putting on monthly as a promotional activity; it was 30 miles away, but it was a chance to play with new people. Two other guitarists and a fiddler, all from the Portland area (and one of them remembered me from the “Moograss” Bluegrass Festival two years ago). We played to a mostly packed house (and the State Forestry folks did notice). State Forestry might want to consider doing this more often.
Haven’t received my copy of the Philippine Christmas album with my song on it yet; I understand it’s being issued on a flash drive rather than CD—the publisher said that’s becoming standard practice in the Far East. Is that the wave of the future? CD technology is 23 years old, after all, and does have space limitations. There are DVDs, true, but they don’t seem to be that durable.
A flash drive would allow one to include video. At that point, the music industry changes a lot. A video track of some sort becomes a must-have, just like drums in country music. (Deejay/veejay Len Amsterdam has been saying this for a long time.) I wonder (former advertising manager) what the packaging would be like. Flash drives are small, way smaller than CDs. You could put the liner notes—and a lot more—on the flash drive itself, digitally. What about bundling the flash drive with a poster? The thing people have complained most about in the shift of recorded music from LPs to CDs is the loss of the album covers, which were often considered works of art. Including a poster could restore that.
Maybe—and I’m dreaming, here, because it’d take money I do not presently have—the next album (not the one that’s partly “in the can,” but the one afterwards, that’d come out in maybe another year) should be issued on a flash drive (and simultaneously on DVD, just in case), with poster. I think I either have the technology to do it (though I don’t know how to use all of it), or know people who do. My record company, Outside Services Ltd., could do it on small enough a scale so it wouldn’t entail a huge investment while we saw whether it worked. It’d be a first—I haven’t seen anybody else doing this. But it’s okay to be first, as long as failure doesn’t cost a lot of money.
Joe
As noted in the first issue of the blog, nearly two years ago, the blog is describing a journey, hopefully to success as a songwriter. Like all journeys, there are potholes and washed-out bridges and abandoned things along the way. If anything I do works, and other people can imitate it or better it, that’s a good thing. And if what I do doesn’t work, well, remember the old proverb—“Some people’s purpose in life is to serve as an example to others.”
I visited some old friends (about 20 years older, in fact) and got encouragement and ideas from them, too. They’re very religious folks, of “the Lord will provide” variety—and the weird thing is, the Lord does provide in their case. Things just happen around them—precisely what they need (no more, no less), precisely when they need it. They are a walking advertisement for why one should be serious about religion.
They had ideas for jobs, and for gigs, and I’ll follow up. I had no idea (for instance) that some nursing homes were paying musicians to come perform, and that there was a company that arranged those bookings—but one of our local nursing homes uses the service, and I’ll talk to them. Said couple also telephoned the people back in Virginia who run the Museum—because (of course) they know them personally. (And there will be a gig—a paying one. Won’t happen till next summer, and I don’t know if it’ll be solo or with a band, but there will be a gig.)
I sent e-mails to the folks who do the open mike in nearby Bay City, to a music store in Vancouver (WA) looking for live performers, and a Portland (OR) cable-access TV station (ditto). First draft of the poster for the “Saturday Thing” at the Tillamook library is done, too, though I won’t hear from the librarian for a couple of days.
And I went to the bluegrass jam the State Forestry Center’s been putting on monthly as a promotional activity; it was 30 miles away, but it was a chance to play with new people. Two other guitarists and a fiddler, all from the Portland area (and one of them remembered me from the “Moograss” Bluegrass Festival two years ago). We played to a mostly packed house (and the State Forestry folks did notice). State Forestry might want to consider doing this more often.
Haven’t received my copy of the Philippine Christmas album with my song on it yet; I understand it’s being issued on a flash drive rather than CD—the publisher said that’s becoming standard practice in the Far East. Is that the wave of the future? CD technology is 23 years old, after all, and does have space limitations. There are DVDs, true, but they don’t seem to be that durable.
A flash drive would allow one to include video. At that point, the music industry changes a lot. A video track of some sort becomes a must-have, just like drums in country music. (Deejay/veejay Len Amsterdam has been saying this for a long time.) I wonder (former advertising manager) what the packaging would be like. Flash drives are small, way smaller than CDs. You could put the liner notes—and a lot more—on the flash drive itself, digitally. What about bundling the flash drive with a poster? The thing people have complained most about in the shift of recorded music from LPs to CDs is the loss of the album covers, which were often considered works of art. Including a poster could restore that.
Maybe—and I’m dreaming, here, because it’d take money I do not presently have—the next album (not the one that’s partly “in the can,” but the one afterwards, that’d come out in maybe another year) should be issued on a flash drive (and simultaneously on DVD, just in case), with poster. I think I either have the technology to do it (though I don’t know how to use all of it), or know people who do. My record company, Outside Services Ltd., could do it on small enough a scale so it wouldn’t entail a huge investment while we saw whether it worked. It’d be a first—I haven’t seen anybody else doing this. But it’s okay to be first, as long as failure doesn’t cost a lot of money.
Joe
Saturday, November 1, 2008
RE-INVENTING MYSELF...
Ever have one of those weeks (or months) when absolutely nothing turns out right? It gets discouraging.
Didn’t get the city manager job in Wheeler—didn’t even get interviewed. Realistically, I may no longer be employable: I’ve been out of “the business” eight months now, don’t have the degree everybody’s requiring (and won’t have for at least a couple of years), and I don’t have a great track record, either. It may be time to just write off the last 15 years as a pretty good ride, and go do something else. Of course, I’m almost out of money—again. That’s not a good time to be talking about reinventing myself.
That the country appears to be sinking into another 1930s-style depression, with a national leadership (and a pending national leadership) that can most charitably be described as clueless, doesn’t help.
If this were one of those 1930s movies, me and Judy Garland would be announcing at this point (with cartoon light bulbs over our heads), “Let’s put on a show!” And we’d save the farm, generate tons of money from God knows where, and get discovered by some media mogul and limo off into the sunset.
Alas, ‘tis fantasy—a fantasy peculiar to the ‘30s, when a lot of people were pretty desperate and trying to find something to cling to. (And Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney were making pretty good money off their po’ boy schtick.) As it was, the average moviegoer probably walked back home, hunkered down again and hoped there were enough beans to feed the family one more week.
That does not mean, though, that there aren’t germs of an Action Plan in the Garland-Rooney fantasy. No, I couldn’t pull that off—not yet. I’m not well enough known. What I can concentrate on, while I’ve got time (and no money, remember) is becoming as well-known as I can. (Now, this doesn’t avoid the need to get a job. While the music “habit” can support itself (and has), it won’t support me or the family.)
Time for a “S.W.O.T.” analysis—an old planning tool used by the U.S. Forest Service back in the days when they actually did forest management. (The acronym stands for Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, and Threats.) The strengths and weaknesses I’ve re-hashed unmercifully. My biggest strength is that I can write stuff, no matter where and no matter what. In addition, I’m an okay performer, can do my own graphic-design stuff, can produce my own records if I have to, and can sing and play guitar good enough to get by. And I’ve got the glimmerings of a fan base—there are people who are actually asking for the next record.
Biggest weakness—besides being almost out of money--is I am very conservative and reluctant to take risks. That’s a big one, especially in hard times, and I’m going to have to practice overcoming it. The biggest threat, I think, is running out of money.
There may be a lot of opportunities. The Saturday thing at the Tillamook library is one; I promised a poster, and volunteered to lead it, and I can help with the advertising. There’s the pre-Christmas bazaars at the Old Mill (and that pays). There are other bazaars, too (Tillamook PUD thoughtfully provided a list). I’ve got the Museum to talk to, and I’ve e-mailed the folks who run the open mike in nearby Bay City to remind them they haven’t had one in a long time (and that I can help with promotion, and bake cookies—something else I’m good at). I haven’t paid a call on county economic development about their “Taste of Tillamook” fair, and need to do that. All those opportunities can be effectively pursued with no investment of money.
The lesson, I think (there are always lessons), is there are always opportunities. Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney had that part right. No, one is not going to save the farm and get discovered and become fabulously wealthy with one show. But if one can see the top of the next step, and climb to it, one has made definable progress toward saving the farm, &c. Enough progress? In troubled times, one probably can’t worry about that. One does the best one can.
Oh, and there was one piece of good news. Friday night’s audience did like “Vampire Roumanian Babies”--a whole lot. A keeper—and definitely one for Southern Pigfish’s album, too.
Joe
Didn’t get the city manager job in Wheeler—didn’t even get interviewed. Realistically, I may no longer be employable: I’ve been out of “the business” eight months now, don’t have the degree everybody’s requiring (and won’t have for at least a couple of years), and I don’t have a great track record, either. It may be time to just write off the last 15 years as a pretty good ride, and go do something else. Of course, I’m almost out of money—again. That’s not a good time to be talking about reinventing myself.
That the country appears to be sinking into another 1930s-style depression, with a national leadership (and a pending national leadership) that can most charitably be described as clueless, doesn’t help.
If this were one of those 1930s movies, me and Judy Garland would be announcing at this point (with cartoon light bulbs over our heads), “Let’s put on a show!” And we’d save the farm, generate tons of money from God knows where, and get discovered by some media mogul and limo off into the sunset.
Alas, ‘tis fantasy—a fantasy peculiar to the ‘30s, when a lot of people were pretty desperate and trying to find something to cling to. (And Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney were making pretty good money off their po’ boy schtick.) As it was, the average moviegoer probably walked back home, hunkered down again and hoped there were enough beans to feed the family one more week.
That does not mean, though, that there aren’t germs of an Action Plan in the Garland-Rooney fantasy. No, I couldn’t pull that off—not yet. I’m not well enough known. What I can concentrate on, while I’ve got time (and no money, remember) is becoming as well-known as I can. (Now, this doesn’t avoid the need to get a job. While the music “habit” can support itself (and has), it won’t support me or the family.)
Time for a “S.W.O.T.” analysis—an old planning tool used by the U.S. Forest Service back in the days when they actually did forest management. (The acronym stands for Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, and Threats.) The strengths and weaknesses I’ve re-hashed unmercifully. My biggest strength is that I can write stuff, no matter where and no matter what. In addition, I’m an okay performer, can do my own graphic-design stuff, can produce my own records if I have to, and can sing and play guitar good enough to get by. And I’ve got the glimmerings of a fan base—there are people who are actually asking for the next record.
Biggest weakness—besides being almost out of money--is I am very conservative and reluctant to take risks. That’s a big one, especially in hard times, and I’m going to have to practice overcoming it. The biggest threat, I think, is running out of money.
There may be a lot of opportunities. The Saturday thing at the Tillamook library is one; I promised a poster, and volunteered to lead it, and I can help with the advertising. There’s the pre-Christmas bazaars at the Old Mill (and that pays). There are other bazaars, too (Tillamook PUD thoughtfully provided a list). I’ve got the Museum to talk to, and I’ve e-mailed the folks who run the open mike in nearby Bay City to remind them they haven’t had one in a long time (and that I can help with promotion, and bake cookies—something else I’m good at). I haven’t paid a call on county economic development about their “Taste of Tillamook” fair, and need to do that. All those opportunities can be effectively pursued with no investment of money.
The lesson, I think (there are always lessons), is there are always opportunities. Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney had that part right. No, one is not going to save the farm and get discovered and become fabulously wealthy with one show. But if one can see the top of the next step, and climb to it, one has made definable progress toward saving the farm, &c. Enough progress? In troubled times, one probably can’t worry about that. One does the best one can.
Oh, and there was one piece of good news. Friday night’s audience did like “Vampire Roumanian Babies”--a whole lot. A keeper—and definitely one for Southern Pigfish’s album, too.
Joe
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