I had a song recorded by Polly Hager! You can hear her rendition of “Rotten Candy” at http://www.soundclick.com/share?songID=8163332. She has a lovely Ronstadt-esque singing voice that was perfect for this song. Larry Hazelbaker in Nashville plays guitar and mandolin on this, and did the recording. No, it’s not the sort of thing that has any money in it—Polly’s an independent writer, like me (though a whole lot prettier)—but with a voice like that, she’s going places. It’d be nice to provide her a vehicle to go there with.
Nine days till the “Rocktoberfest” gig, and I still have not found a lead player. (I mentioned it in my weekly column for the paper, too.) We will have, I think, one chance to practice before the gig, between John’s and Chris’s work and my round of job interviews (two this week, and one Monday that’ll take me out of town for three days). Of the two lead guitarists I contacted, one didn’t want to commit (that seems to be a standard feature of lead players) and the other told me we were too good and he was paranoid about doing it (I think that was a compliment).
I posted “Crosses by the Roadside” online as a dedication to Sharma (I am not ready to call her “the late” Sharma, and may not be for a long time). It has gotten some good response, and is a song that probably needs to get played more, despite its having been panned by a Nashville music publisher. It is reminiscent of Sharma: relentlessly upbeat without really trying to be. (And that contrast, between pretty sad lyrics and pretty danceable music, is one of the things I like about the song.) It was written for—and from the viewpoint of—the person left behind when somebody dies; they’ve got the harder job, because they’re still around. And that seemed appropriate in this case, too.
(And the reason the publisher wasn’t interested in the song? Because Randy Travis (I think it was him) had a song about crosses a couple of years ago, and is now presumed to have a corner of sorts on the crosses-song market, and any song by anybody else with crosses in it is going to be considered derivative. I don’t think that’s a reasonable attitude, but I’m not the one in the music-publishing business (at least not yet). At my end, I haven’t had a single person who’s heard “Crosses by the Roadside” mention Randy Travis—and besides, I think my song’s better’n his. I will continue playing it.)
Sharma’s family is having a memorial service for her this coming Sunday, 4 October, in Longview, WA—and I can’t be there; I’ll be headed for southern Oregon, probably 400 miles from there, for a job interview the next day. I’ll plan on playing the song at the Wild Goose Sunday night.
Settled things with insurance following the car accident; the old Thunderbird—16 years old—was a total loss. I will get enough out of the settlement to buy a small (and nowheres near as pretty) truck I’ve had my eye on (country boys should be driving trucks anyway, not Thunderbirds).
The process went rather smoothly, in part because I gave the guy who crashed into me one of my CDs as a business card; he called me just a couple of days later to tell me how much he liked it. (I have yet to find anybody who doesn’t like the CD.) The lesson: if you’re ever in a car wreck, hand out CDs. You’ll be glad you did.
I hadn’t heard from the Insomnia Coffee Co. in Hillsboro about whether they want me to play Oct. 10 or 24, so I stopped by on my way back from today’s job interview, and left them a CD. The owner wasn’t there, but I expect I’ll hear from him now. Nice place, with a cute little stage that might just barely hold two people (and would be ideal for one), and maybe good acoustics.
Joe
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
A QUICK BURLESQUE SHOW POST-MORTEM...
The Burlesque Show was good. Very good. If you attended, you know this. If you didn’t, be patient—I’m sure now there will be another one. The troupe will be doing a post-mortem Sunday, 4 October; I won’t be able to be there—I’ll be en route to the next job interview in southern Oregon, the state Fish & Wildlife one in Trail. I’m anxious to see the video (I understand it was videotaped as well as podcast).
One reason I want to see the videotape is I want to see the crowd’s reaction to the songs I did. I did “Electronic Love,” “The Termite Song,” and “Can I Have Your Car When the Rapture Comes?” and I’m not sure how they went over. I was doing the de-focus-my-eyes-because-the-crowd’s-big-and-scary trick, and consequently wasn’t seeing the audience. (I peeked a little during the last song.) But I also missed (being backstage most of the time) all but one of the dances, and judging from the crowd’s reaction (which I could hear) they were very, very good. (I did get to see one of Peggy/Lanolin’s fire dances, and it was impressive.)
I myself liked that we had a plot, and that it carried all the way through the show; I think the dialogue needs to get sparser as the show goes on, though, because the audience is getting more bibulous over time, and more interested in music and the dancers, and not really paying attention to people speaking. That’s particularly the case after the intermission, during which the audience have taken the opportunity (as encouraged) to purchase additional brain cell destroying materials from the bar.
The sound guy may have had the most difficult job: he had to cue not only the music for the dancers, but also the dialogue parts from “Alex,” the computer that’s officially the troupe’s manager, and “Jill,” the GPS unit he has the hots for, and the moderator from the “FBI This Week” show (which is a real show), and keep it all rapid-fire so the show doesn’t drag. He done good.
So what’s next? Well, in the next show I should be doing different songs, I think—not because these weren’t good, but simply for the sake of variety. Among the “sleazies” that’d be possible inclusions are “The Taboo Song” (about the 15 things you’re not supposed to write songs about), “Sam & Melinda” (about VD, auto accidents, and killing your lover), and “The Cat with the Strat” (if we’re going to murder a poem—this show did e.e. cummings—why not Dr. Seuss?). Of those three, though, only “The Taboo Song” is short.
Actually, “Dirty Deeds We Done to Sheep” would be perfect for this crew, but that one is really best done with a band to have the greatest impact. (One of the troupe is a bass player, though. She may well know others.)
There are the non-sleazies, of course, but I think sleaziness is one of the purposes behind burlesque.
I learned from one of the bouncers at the theater (lesson: always talk to the staff) about two more venues for solo acts; one is the Hawthorne Theatre Lounge, the small bar attached to (and owned by) the theater, and the other is a 24-hour coffeehouse in Beaverton. Both do solo, acoustic acts—people like me, in other words. I’ll contact both, and plan on stopping by on my next trip to Portland (which will be Wednesday, come to think of it—I have that job interview in Woodburn in the morning).
And I have, I think, the perfect eulogy for Sharma—“Crosses by the Roadside.” It is about death by automobile, after all—and it is a song for those left behind. I’ll need to re-record it.
Joe
One reason I want to see the videotape is I want to see the crowd’s reaction to the songs I did. I did “Electronic Love,” “The Termite Song,” and “Can I Have Your Car When the Rapture Comes?” and I’m not sure how they went over. I was doing the de-focus-my-eyes-because-the-crowd’s-big-and-scary trick, and consequently wasn’t seeing the audience. (I peeked a little during the last song.) But I also missed (being backstage most of the time) all but one of the dances, and judging from the crowd’s reaction (which I could hear) they were very, very good. (I did get to see one of Peggy/Lanolin’s fire dances, and it was impressive.)
I myself liked that we had a plot, and that it carried all the way through the show; I think the dialogue needs to get sparser as the show goes on, though, because the audience is getting more bibulous over time, and more interested in music and the dancers, and not really paying attention to people speaking. That’s particularly the case after the intermission, during which the audience have taken the opportunity (as encouraged) to purchase additional brain cell destroying materials from the bar.
The sound guy may have had the most difficult job: he had to cue not only the music for the dancers, but also the dialogue parts from “Alex,” the computer that’s officially the troupe’s manager, and “Jill,” the GPS unit he has the hots for, and the moderator from the “FBI This Week” show (which is a real show), and keep it all rapid-fire so the show doesn’t drag. He done good.
So what’s next? Well, in the next show I should be doing different songs, I think—not because these weren’t good, but simply for the sake of variety. Among the “sleazies” that’d be possible inclusions are “The Taboo Song” (about the 15 things you’re not supposed to write songs about), “Sam & Melinda” (about VD, auto accidents, and killing your lover), and “The Cat with the Strat” (if we’re going to murder a poem—this show did e.e. cummings—why not Dr. Seuss?). Of those three, though, only “The Taboo Song” is short.
Actually, “Dirty Deeds We Done to Sheep” would be perfect for this crew, but that one is really best done with a band to have the greatest impact. (One of the troupe is a bass player, though. She may well know others.)
There are the non-sleazies, of course, but I think sleaziness is one of the purposes behind burlesque.
I learned from one of the bouncers at the theater (lesson: always talk to the staff) about two more venues for solo acts; one is the Hawthorne Theatre Lounge, the small bar attached to (and owned by) the theater, and the other is a 24-hour coffeehouse in Beaverton. Both do solo, acoustic acts—people like me, in other words. I’ll contact both, and plan on stopping by on my next trip to Portland (which will be Wednesday, come to think of it—I have that job interview in Woodburn in the morning).
And I have, I think, the perfect eulogy for Sharma—“Crosses by the Roadside.” It is about death by automobile, after all—and it is a song for those left behind. I’ll need to re-record it.
Joe
Thursday, September 24, 2009
BURLESQUE SHOW IN 2 DAYS...
JUST TWO DAYS till the Burlesque Show (I don’t count the day of the show—we’ll be doing a final dress rehearsal that day). In lieu of a program, we’re going to have a big 24x36 poster with our photos, Tarot cards, real and stage names, and functions in the show. I’m designing that. One more day to finish it in—Friday’s shot with a job interview in Salem, 90 miles away (and a 2-hour drive over bad roads).
The good news on the job front is I got called for an interview at the Library. Not the most challenging of the jobs I’ve applied for, or the best-paying—but definitely Reinvention Central. It’d be fun. (Really, any job would be fun right now.) So next week has two interviews now—library on Tuesday, and Woodburn (for city recorder) on Wednesday. Then the following Sunday, I leave for southern Oregon again—music Sunday night, and the interview with state Fish & Wildlife Monday. (This job-hunting stuff is getting really busy. I need to get a job just so I can rest.)
Talked with the school district, too, about being assistant speech coach. That’s a job that doesn’t pay squat (it’s relatively few hours, too), but it would be fun working with the kids. I like to think I have a few things I could teach about performance. The school district, though, doesn’t want to hire me because of the Uncertainty—they want me to guarantee that I’ll be around, and until I have a local job, I can’t. (They were nice and apologetic about it. And so was I.)
Insomnia Coffee Co. in Hillsboro did contact me back, finally—they want me for either October 10 or October 24, both Saturdays. I can do either one. (Could I do both?) Oct. 10 is the day of the “Rocktoberfest,” but that’s in the morning. I just want enough notice of which day I’m performing so I can do a little promoting. I notice the coffee company doesn’t do any advertising of the music that I can see on their Website. If I go in early enough for the Burlesque Show, I can drop these guys off posters (if I know which date I’m playing) and a CD.
And we still don’t have a lead player for the “Rocktoberfest” gig. I did have a Wild Idea that I’d really like to try—but I’d like to experiment with it before using it in a gig situation. Dick Ackerman, our blues harp player, is at the other end of the country now—but he has his cell phone with him, and wife Carol has hers. Would it be possible to mount a cell phone on a tripod, in front of a microphone, have Dick play harmonica long distance into his cell phone, and broadcast it to the audience? We could transmit the concert to him (so he could hear the music) through Carol’s cell phone, by stationing someone in front of one of the speakers. (And Dick’s got one of those remote-plug-into-the-ear things, so he could hear easily.) I don’t think anybody’s ever done something like that before.
And if that worked, could we record that way? There are some songs for the album I would really like to have Dick’s blues harp on, but we didn’t manage to get them all recorded before he and Carol went away. Yes, the technology’s poor—the Japanese may have sophisticated cell phones, but us country folk don’t—but we do have a good sound engineer, and he’s got really good sound-management software on his computer. Could that make up for the primitive sound transmission over a cell phone? Or, alternatively, would the novelty of the blues harp player being able to do this from 2000-plus miles away be attractive enough to make up for the primitiveness of the sound? One may have to try it to know the answer.
“Rocktoberfest” wants the band to start an hour earlier (they said it was a screwup in the printing of the posters), but as a trade-off, we’d get an hour instead of just 40 minutes. I’m game if the rest of the band is. We already have an hour-long set mapped out from the Museum gig, so it’d be easy.
Joe
The good news on the job front is I got called for an interview at the Library. Not the most challenging of the jobs I’ve applied for, or the best-paying—but definitely Reinvention Central. It’d be fun. (Really, any job would be fun right now.) So next week has two interviews now—library on Tuesday, and Woodburn (for city recorder) on Wednesday. Then the following Sunday, I leave for southern Oregon again—music Sunday night, and the interview with state Fish & Wildlife Monday. (This job-hunting stuff is getting really busy. I need to get a job just so I can rest.)
Talked with the school district, too, about being assistant speech coach. That’s a job that doesn’t pay squat (it’s relatively few hours, too), but it would be fun working with the kids. I like to think I have a few things I could teach about performance. The school district, though, doesn’t want to hire me because of the Uncertainty—they want me to guarantee that I’ll be around, and until I have a local job, I can’t. (They were nice and apologetic about it. And so was I.)
Insomnia Coffee Co. in Hillsboro did contact me back, finally—they want me for either October 10 or October 24, both Saturdays. I can do either one. (Could I do both?) Oct. 10 is the day of the “Rocktoberfest,” but that’s in the morning. I just want enough notice of which day I’m performing so I can do a little promoting. I notice the coffee company doesn’t do any advertising of the music that I can see on their Website. If I go in early enough for the Burlesque Show, I can drop these guys off posters (if I know which date I’m playing) and a CD.
And we still don’t have a lead player for the “Rocktoberfest” gig. I did have a Wild Idea that I’d really like to try—but I’d like to experiment with it before using it in a gig situation. Dick Ackerman, our blues harp player, is at the other end of the country now—but he has his cell phone with him, and wife Carol has hers. Would it be possible to mount a cell phone on a tripod, in front of a microphone, have Dick play harmonica long distance into his cell phone, and broadcast it to the audience? We could transmit the concert to him (so he could hear the music) through Carol’s cell phone, by stationing someone in front of one of the speakers. (And Dick’s got one of those remote-plug-into-the-ear things, so he could hear easily.) I don’t think anybody’s ever done something like that before.
And if that worked, could we record that way? There are some songs for the album I would really like to have Dick’s blues harp on, but we didn’t manage to get them all recorded before he and Carol went away. Yes, the technology’s poor—the Japanese may have sophisticated cell phones, but us country folk don’t—but we do have a good sound engineer, and he’s got really good sound-management software on his computer. Could that make up for the primitive sound transmission over a cell phone? Or, alternatively, would the novelty of the blues harp player being able to do this from 2000-plus miles away be attractive enough to make up for the primitiveness of the sound? One may have to try it to know the answer.
“Rocktoberfest” wants the band to start an hour earlier (they said it was a screwup in the printing of the posters), but as a trade-off, we’d get an hour instead of just 40 minutes. I’m game if the rest of the band is. We already have an hour-long set mapped out from the Museum gig, so it’d be easy.
Joe
Sunday, September 20, 2009
A QUICK UPDATE...
The Burlesque Show will be okay, I think. Dress rehearsal today in Laurelhurst Park in Portland, and everybody seemed to know their lines, including me. We’ll do one more dress rehearsal, the afternoon before the show (Sept. 26), and that will be at the Hawthorne Theater itself.
Recording was good, too. I continue to be impressed with this band. The songs we were familiar with—i.e., that have been regular inclusions at our gigs—were note-perfect the first time. Even “Rotten Candy,” which I think we’ve only played once, and that back at Garibaldi Days in July, we only had to do twice.
Besides “Rotten Candy,” we’ve got “Free-Range Person” and Stan Good’s “Un-Easy Street” in the can. We also played, while we were setting the sound levels, “Armadillo on the Interstate” (which is on the album list and the setlist for the “Rocktoberfest”) and “For Their Own Ends” (which is on the “Rocktoberfest” list—being a rock song, and all).
What we did were “scratch tracks” of everything—a live recording against which John wants to re-record all the parts separately—rhythm guitar, bass, drums, vocal, and (when we find one) lead. However, it’s quite possible that the “scratch tracks” may be as good as anything we could do “layered.” It was tight; we knew what we were doing; and the band (and the recording) are good.
We still don’t have a lead player (my job to find one, I guess)—or a name. The suggestion was made that they could just (like the old song says) call us Irresponsible. Maybe they should. We are all adults, after all, and probably should know better.
The “Favorite Show” was good, too. Problems with the sound system (I’m not sure why that happens everywhere I go—do I make electronic equipment freak out?) made the show start late, so my “pre-rounds” (a square dance term for what happens before the Real Dance) was two songs instead of six. People liked what I did. The other performers in the “Favorite Show” were mostly standup comics (four of them), and two guys did comic videos (one of them also being one of the standup comics). Interesting stuff. I think standup is a really hard gig—what I do is easier, because I have a guitar to hide behind. However, my music is definitely a good fit with this stuff.
Interesting, too, that all but one of the standup comics tended to define themselves in terms of what they do for a living. I don’t—of course, it’s not like I’m doing anything for a living right now—but I never have, really. Part of that is a deliberate attempt on my part to keep music separate from work, and part of it is deliberately trying to escape what I once heard called an East Coast tendency to define one’s self by one’s job (and I’m from the East Coast, after all). That’s a tendency to be avoided, I think; if the sociologists are correct, and in the Modern Era a person will change careers a good seven times before retirement, wouldn’t defining one’s self in terms of one’s job give one an awful case of multiple-personality disorder?
The Urban Grind East is a beautiful place—a big industrial warehouse space with a lot of seating and intimate as well as public spaces. I’d like to perform there. Everybody kept waiting for the owner to show up (he reportedly normally comes to the “Favorite Show” nights), but he never did. I left a CD with the baristo. (I also presented one of my “Another Thong from Joe” thongs to host Whitney.)
UPCOMING: Job interviews Monday (in Eugene, 200 miles away), Tuesday (in Manzanita, 25 miles away—a lot better), and Friday (in Salem—90 miles and a 2-hour drive over bad roads). Tuesday afternoon, I’ve been asked to sit in on speech practice at the high school (where I’ve applied to be assistant speech coach). Music just Friday this week—but we may have the chance to do some more recording a couple of evenings. Burlesque Show Saturday. Time to send out the invites.
Joe
Recording was good, too. I continue to be impressed with this band. The songs we were familiar with—i.e., that have been regular inclusions at our gigs—were note-perfect the first time. Even “Rotten Candy,” which I think we’ve only played once, and that back at Garibaldi Days in July, we only had to do twice.
Besides “Rotten Candy,” we’ve got “Free-Range Person” and Stan Good’s “Un-Easy Street” in the can. We also played, while we were setting the sound levels, “Armadillo on the Interstate” (which is on the album list and the setlist for the “Rocktoberfest”) and “For Their Own Ends” (which is on the “Rocktoberfest” list—being a rock song, and all).
What we did were “scratch tracks” of everything—a live recording against which John wants to re-record all the parts separately—rhythm guitar, bass, drums, vocal, and (when we find one) lead. However, it’s quite possible that the “scratch tracks” may be as good as anything we could do “layered.” It was tight; we knew what we were doing; and the band (and the recording) are good.
We still don’t have a lead player (my job to find one, I guess)—or a name. The suggestion was made that they could just (like the old song says) call us Irresponsible. Maybe they should. We are all adults, after all, and probably should know better.
The “Favorite Show” was good, too. Problems with the sound system (I’m not sure why that happens everywhere I go—do I make electronic equipment freak out?) made the show start late, so my “pre-rounds” (a square dance term for what happens before the Real Dance) was two songs instead of six. People liked what I did. The other performers in the “Favorite Show” were mostly standup comics (four of them), and two guys did comic videos (one of them also being one of the standup comics). Interesting stuff. I think standup is a really hard gig—what I do is easier, because I have a guitar to hide behind. However, my music is definitely a good fit with this stuff.
Interesting, too, that all but one of the standup comics tended to define themselves in terms of what they do for a living. I don’t—of course, it’s not like I’m doing anything for a living right now—but I never have, really. Part of that is a deliberate attempt on my part to keep music separate from work, and part of it is deliberately trying to escape what I once heard called an East Coast tendency to define one’s self by one’s job (and I’m from the East Coast, after all). That’s a tendency to be avoided, I think; if the sociologists are correct, and in the Modern Era a person will change careers a good seven times before retirement, wouldn’t defining one’s self in terms of one’s job give one an awful case of multiple-personality disorder?
The Urban Grind East is a beautiful place—a big industrial warehouse space with a lot of seating and intimate as well as public spaces. I’d like to perform there. Everybody kept waiting for the owner to show up (he reportedly normally comes to the “Favorite Show” nights), but he never did. I left a CD with the baristo. (I also presented one of my “Another Thong from Joe” thongs to host Whitney.)
UPCOMING: Job interviews Monday (in Eugene, 200 miles away), Tuesday (in Manzanita, 25 miles away—a lot better), and Friday (in Salem—90 miles and a 2-hour drive over bad roads). Tuesday afternoon, I’ve been asked to sit in on speech practice at the high school (where I’ve applied to be assistant speech coach). Music just Friday this week—but we may have the chance to do some more recording a couple of evenings. Burlesque Show Saturday. Time to send out the invites.
Joe
Friday, September 18, 2009
FOUR BUSY DAYS AHEAD...
OMusic Friday; Burlesque Show rehearsals Saturday and Sunday; the Urban Grind show Saturday night; band recording Sunday morning; job interviews Monday and Tuesday. I feel like a four-day hole is being ripped out of my generally empty life.
That means today and part of tomorrow is the only time I’ve got left to do Empty Life things in. I have the rest of the recording equipment to move out into the garage studio (which is clean, now), the thongs to print, more jobs to apply for, two of April’s songs to record, a Derek Hines song to musicate and record, and the e.e. cummings poem (at least my part of it) to memorize for the Burlesque Show. Considering Mary Travers (of Peter, Paul and Mary) just passed on, it’d probably be good to mention in the Burlesque Show how much sleaziness Mary was able to inject into a children’s song: “Take me… for a ride… in your… car-car.”
The studio is an impressively funky little space now, quite comfortable to spend time in. I’ll have to video it. There are (surprisingly) places for everything, including the music computer I’m going to assemble out of the three used hulks I got at the college’s garage sale. Come winter, though, it will be hard to heat—it is uninsulated. And the spate of 90-degree weather we’re scheduled to get through the end of September won’t last. It is going to get cold.
Whipped up (it really doesn’t take much time) a draft certificate of appreciation for the local library to give to the businesses who donated to the Summer Reading Program. (And of course it looks good. I used to do this stuff for a living, and made money at it.) I’m doing it for the library for free, asking them to provide only the fancy paper; since these are going out to local businesses (rather a lot of them), I’d like it to bring in some business from them.
I offered to do the album covers and liner notes for Sara Charlton’s CD for free, too, for the same reason. (She plans on having it out in the spring.) One breaks in (or back in) to the graphic-design field the same way one does music—you do favors for people, and eventually it comes back. And you hope you don’t starve first.
The Portland Songwriters Assn. has become something of a mystery. I tried to join (I consider the $18 a major commitment, considering my lack of income), but my letter with the dues got returned—apparently their P.O. box is closed. No one has answered my e-mail, and I notice the last posts on their message board were back in January. (And of course, the open mike I went to last Sunday night wasn’t happening, either—the bartender at the Spare Room said it had stopped a couple months ago. But it’s still listed on the Portland Songwriters Assn. Website.) I wonder what happened to them? It’s like they’ve disappeared—victims of alien abduction, or something. I do have (from their Website) the edresses of a couple of folks who apparently used to be active in the group, and I’ll see if I get any response from them.
I finally did get something from the Neskowin Valley School—not an e-mail, or even a response to my attempts to contact them about the harvest Festival, but just a form-letter thingie announcing that the Harvest Festival is going to be Saturday, 10 October, the same day as the “Rocktoberfest.” That means I can’t do it—but it doesn’t seem like whoever’s in charge of the thing is particularly interested in having me perform there, anyway. The best I can assume is they haven’t contacted me because they’re too disorganized (I noticed they were disorganized last year)—but that assumes a perfection on my part that may not be justified. They may really just not want me back. And I’ll probably never know.
Joe
That means today and part of tomorrow is the only time I’ve got left to do Empty Life things in. I have the rest of the recording equipment to move out into the garage studio (which is clean, now), the thongs to print, more jobs to apply for, two of April’s songs to record, a Derek Hines song to musicate and record, and the e.e. cummings poem (at least my part of it) to memorize for the Burlesque Show. Considering Mary Travers (of Peter, Paul and Mary) just passed on, it’d probably be good to mention in the Burlesque Show how much sleaziness Mary was able to inject into a children’s song: “Take me… for a ride… in your… car-car.”
The studio is an impressively funky little space now, quite comfortable to spend time in. I’ll have to video it. There are (surprisingly) places for everything, including the music computer I’m going to assemble out of the three used hulks I got at the college’s garage sale. Come winter, though, it will be hard to heat—it is uninsulated. And the spate of 90-degree weather we’re scheduled to get through the end of September won’t last. It is going to get cold.
Whipped up (it really doesn’t take much time) a draft certificate of appreciation for the local library to give to the businesses who donated to the Summer Reading Program. (And of course it looks good. I used to do this stuff for a living, and made money at it.) I’m doing it for the library for free, asking them to provide only the fancy paper; since these are going out to local businesses (rather a lot of them), I’d like it to bring in some business from them.
I offered to do the album covers and liner notes for Sara Charlton’s CD for free, too, for the same reason. (She plans on having it out in the spring.) One breaks in (or back in) to the graphic-design field the same way one does music—you do favors for people, and eventually it comes back. And you hope you don’t starve first.
The Portland Songwriters Assn. has become something of a mystery. I tried to join (I consider the $18 a major commitment, considering my lack of income), but my letter with the dues got returned—apparently their P.O. box is closed. No one has answered my e-mail, and I notice the last posts on their message board were back in January. (And of course, the open mike I went to last Sunday night wasn’t happening, either—the bartender at the Spare Room said it had stopped a couple months ago. But it’s still listed on the Portland Songwriters Assn. Website.) I wonder what happened to them? It’s like they’ve disappeared—victims of alien abduction, or something. I do have (from their Website) the edresses of a couple of folks who apparently used to be active in the group, and I’ll see if I get any response from them.
I finally did get something from the Neskowin Valley School—not an e-mail, or even a response to my attempts to contact them about the harvest Festival, but just a form-letter thingie announcing that the Harvest Festival is going to be Saturday, 10 October, the same day as the “Rocktoberfest.” That means I can’t do it—but it doesn’t seem like whoever’s in charge of the thing is particularly interested in having me perform there, anyway. The best I can assume is they haven’t contacted me because they’re too disorganized (I noticed they were disorganized last year)—but that assumes a perfection on my part that may not be justified. They may really just not want me back. And I’ll probably never know.
Joe
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
NIGHTMARE (AND JOB INTERVIEWS)...
I had a nightmare last night. I dreamed the band was going on stage for the “Rocktoberfest,” and I hadn’t done a setlist—and hadn’t the faintest idea what we were going to play (and the band didn’t, either). I decided to take care of that as soon as I woke up. We’ve got 40 minutes, which is 8 songs. I think we’ll do:
Dead Things in the Shower (fast two-step)
Armadillo on the Interstate (slow & sleazy)
Bluebird on My Windshield (fast bluegrass)
For Their Own Ends (folk-rock)
Duct Tape (mod. fast two-step)
Eatin’ Cornflakes from a Hubcap Blues (mod. slow quasi-blues)
Free-Range Person (fast bluegrass)
Un-Easy Street (mod. two-step)
We have, I notice, started every show we’ve done with “Dead Things.” It’s not what I’d have considered an opening number, but the band likes it, and drops into it real comfortably. And we do “rock it up” good. “For Their Own Ends” is going to make us famous if it doesn’t make Southern Pigfish famous; it is at this point our only rock-‘n’-roll song, and it invariably gets people up dancing. I had asked why people liked it—the lyrics are very obscure, and you can see people looking puzzled even while they’re dancing—and it was suggested it was because I obviously have so much fun singing it. I guess I do.
The setlist is mostly high-energy stuff (which the band are good at); starts off with dead animals, and closes on a more serious note. Probably doesn’t offend anybody, though—no bestiality, no pokes at religion, no live-animal sex (well, except for the armadillos—and that’s pointedly Shakespearean, and therefore educational). I assume we’re playing to a generally family crowd. Let the kids who come after us be sleazy. We’ll be adults. I still need to find us a lead player.
Last of the Fool’s parts is fleshed out for the Burlesque Show (nothing like waking up from a no-setlist nightmare to get you taking care of business first thing in the morning). The Fool is definitely going to come across as Larry the Cable Guy meets the Oracle at Delphi. (Yes, it’s type-casting—but it’ll be easy to pull off.) Got my three songs picked out; now, I need to practice reciting an e.e. cummings poem about driving a car while I’m playing some halfway sleazy music on the guitar. I’ll need to have the cummings piece memorized, even though I’ll be pretending to read it on stage.
FOUR calls for job interviews this morning; hey, this is getting good. Monday 9/21, I get interviewed by State DHS to be an office manager in Eugene (200 miles away); Tuesday 9/22, it’s Nehalem Bay Fire & Rescue, the new fire district here on the Coast, to be their administrative assistant person; and Wednesday, 9/30, I’ll have an all-day round of interviews about being City Recorder in Woodburn, south of Portland. Monday, 10/6, I have a job interview at the fish hatchery in Trail, in southern Oregon, to be their (I think) one-person office. I’ll go down a day ahead of time for that one, and leave the morning after, and play music while I’m in the area.
Eugene… I hadn’t expected that one—and with my luck, that’s the one that’ll happen, because I hadn’t thought of it. Second-biggest city in Oregon; a college town (two colleges, in fact), with the second-biggest bookstore in Oregon, a songwriters association (one of only 4 in Oregon), and some nice, funky neighborhoods to live in (that are probably way too expensive on the salary I’ll be getting). I would have to live there, ‘cause it’s much too far from the Coast (200 miles) to commute. And I know a fiddle player who lives there.
All the attention feels good (and I have needed that)—but I can’t forget the mantra of Chuck Cushman, head of the National Inholders Assn. (and my boss when I was a lobbyist): “Never confuse Motion with Progress.” Nice to have the activity, but I haven’t accomplished anything yet.
Joe
Dead Things in the Shower (fast two-step)
Armadillo on the Interstate (slow & sleazy)
Bluebird on My Windshield (fast bluegrass)
For Their Own Ends (folk-rock)
Duct Tape (mod. fast two-step)
Eatin’ Cornflakes from a Hubcap Blues (mod. slow quasi-blues)
Free-Range Person (fast bluegrass)
Un-Easy Street (mod. two-step)
We have, I notice, started every show we’ve done with “Dead Things.” It’s not what I’d have considered an opening number, but the band likes it, and drops into it real comfortably. And we do “rock it up” good. “For Their Own Ends” is going to make us famous if it doesn’t make Southern Pigfish famous; it is at this point our only rock-‘n’-roll song, and it invariably gets people up dancing. I had asked why people liked it—the lyrics are very obscure, and you can see people looking puzzled even while they’re dancing—and it was suggested it was because I obviously have so much fun singing it. I guess I do.
The setlist is mostly high-energy stuff (which the band are good at); starts off with dead animals, and closes on a more serious note. Probably doesn’t offend anybody, though—no bestiality, no pokes at religion, no live-animal sex (well, except for the armadillos—and that’s pointedly Shakespearean, and therefore educational). I assume we’re playing to a generally family crowd. Let the kids who come after us be sleazy. We’ll be adults. I still need to find us a lead player.
Last of the Fool’s parts is fleshed out for the Burlesque Show (nothing like waking up from a no-setlist nightmare to get you taking care of business first thing in the morning). The Fool is definitely going to come across as Larry the Cable Guy meets the Oracle at Delphi. (Yes, it’s type-casting—but it’ll be easy to pull off.) Got my three songs picked out; now, I need to practice reciting an e.e. cummings poem about driving a car while I’m playing some halfway sleazy music on the guitar. I’ll need to have the cummings piece memorized, even though I’ll be pretending to read it on stage.
FOUR calls for job interviews this morning; hey, this is getting good. Monday 9/21, I get interviewed by State DHS to be an office manager in Eugene (200 miles away); Tuesday 9/22, it’s Nehalem Bay Fire & Rescue, the new fire district here on the Coast, to be their administrative assistant person; and Wednesday, 9/30, I’ll have an all-day round of interviews about being City Recorder in Woodburn, south of Portland. Monday, 10/6, I have a job interview at the fish hatchery in Trail, in southern Oregon, to be their (I think) one-person office. I’ll go down a day ahead of time for that one, and leave the morning after, and play music while I’m in the area.
Eugene… I hadn’t expected that one—and with my luck, that’s the one that’ll happen, because I hadn’t thought of it. Second-biggest city in Oregon; a college town (two colleges, in fact), with the second-biggest bookstore in Oregon, a songwriters association (one of only 4 in Oregon), and some nice, funky neighborhoods to live in (that are probably way too expensive on the salary I’ll be getting). I would have to live there, ‘cause it’s much too far from the Coast (200 miles) to commute. And I know a fiddle player who lives there.
All the attention feels good (and I have needed that)—but I can’t forget the mantra of Chuck Cushman, head of the National Inholders Assn. (and my boss when I was a lobbyist): “Never confuse Motion with Progress.” Nice to have the activity, but I haven’t accomplished anything yet.
Joe
Monday, September 14, 2009
WEEKEND UPDATE...
I have a script (finally) for the Burlesque Show—and it’s pretty good. I’ve scripted out one of the Fool’s scenes, and have one more to do. The show will include three of my songs: “Electronic Love,” “The Termite Song” (both in response to Ann Landers-type advice questions), and “Can I Have Your Car When the Rapture Comes” (after a presentation by the Snake-oil Salesman). Rehearsals Saturday and Sunday next weekend; I’ll miss the music session at the Tillamook Library Saturday, but would like to make sure the Sunday rehearsal doesn’t interfere with the band’s recording.
Had a couple twin sisters (retirement age) show up at the Friday Night Group; they knew some old bluegrass songs, and were obviously used to performing (they said their dad had had a band). It was nice. They said they’d heard about it in the paper—and as far as I know, the only mention of the Friday Night Group in the paper was in my column. Could people actually be reading it?
Tentatively, John, Chris and I will record again Sunday, 9/20. We’ll try to do “base” tracks for 3 or 4 songs—the ones I’d like Jeannette to play fiddle on before she stops visiting the Coast for the winter. I think those should be “Dead Things in the Shower,” “Armadillo on the Interstate,” Un-Easy Street,” and maybe “Rotten Candy.” That last could get by with just a guitar lead if we have to. I can do a decent guitar lead myself on “Un-Easy Street,” and could fake the others—but it’d be nice to have a lead by somebody who was good at it.
The jobs I’ve applied for this week are all local, again—but the two interviews I had this week were for jobs in Salem. And I got a letter from State Fish & Wildlife asking if I was still interested in their office-manager job in Trail, in southern Oregon—and I am. Early October, I think, is when they want to do interviews. I may have an excuse to visit folks down there again.
Fish & Wildlife’s letter did prompt the question of which I’d rather have, a job in town or one far away, and I really don’t think I have any “druthers.” I would druther simply have a job, period, and whoever gets me first, gets me. (I’ve been saying that since I first became unemployed.) And I won’t regret the decision, whatever it is. I have fantasized about going to live and work in all sorts of weird places over the last year, and—being obsessive about having scripts and following them—know pretty much how I’d approach it, no matter where I went. I also know what I’d do here on the Coast. There are advantages to both (disadvantages, too), but I can’t do both.
I have thongs (found two more while I was cleaning out the garage studio.) These things are SMALL—I might be able to get six labels out of a single sheet of T-shirt transfer material. It’d be nice if I could make just the letters print—no background color, in other words; I seem to remember producing a sweatshirt that way (and being surprised at how it came out), but I don’t remember what I did. One of the problems with being a “Renaissance man,” and being able to do a little of everything, is I don’t remember how to do anything very well. I won’t have a chance to work on the thongs until Monday. Monday, too, will be my opportunity to work on April’s songs.
Sunday, after Burlesque Show cast meeting, I went to one of the open mikes advertised on the Portland Songwriters Assn.’s Website—at a big bar hight The Spare Room, in northeast Portland—and it wasn’t happening. The bartender told me the open mike had stopped a couple of months ago, because they weren’t getting many musicians. (Too bad—the place has a large, beautiful dance floor.) And they reportedly tried having a DJ, but that apparently just produced police problems. So I left them a CD, and told them I was interested in being their Sunday night music. (Never stop selling.) Next week, I’ll try a different open mike—there’s still two more on the PSA list. I should call first, though.
Joe
Had a couple twin sisters (retirement age) show up at the Friday Night Group; they knew some old bluegrass songs, and were obviously used to performing (they said their dad had had a band). It was nice. They said they’d heard about it in the paper—and as far as I know, the only mention of the Friday Night Group in the paper was in my column. Could people actually be reading it?
Tentatively, John, Chris and I will record again Sunday, 9/20. We’ll try to do “base” tracks for 3 or 4 songs—the ones I’d like Jeannette to play fiddle on before she stops visiting the Coast for the winter. I think those should be “Dead Things in the Shower,” “Armadillo on the Interstate,” Un-Easy Street,” and maybe “Rotten Candy.” That last could get by with just a guitar lead if we have to. I can do a decent guitar lead myself on “Un-Easy Street,” and could fake the others—but it’d be nice to have a lead by somebody who was good at it.
The jobs I’ve applied for this week are all local, again—but the two interviews I had this week were for jobs in Salem. And I got a letter from State Fish & Wildlife asking if I was still interested in their office-manager job in Trail, in southern Oregon—and I am. Early October, I think, is when they want to do interviews. I may have an excuse to visit folks down there again.
Fish & Wildlife’s letter did prompt the question of which I’d rather have, a job in town or one far away, and I really don’t think I have any “druthers.” I would druther simply have a job, period, and whoever gets me first, gets me. (I’ve been saying that since I first became unemployed.) And I won’t regret the decision, whatever it is. I have fantasized about going to live and work in all sorts of weird places over the last year, and—being obsessive about having scripts and following them—know pretty much how I’d approach it, no matter where I went. I also know what I’d do here on the Coast. There are advantages to both (disadvantages, too), but I can’t do both.
I have thongs (found two more while I was cleaning out the garage studio.) These things are SMALL—I might be able to get six labels out of a single sheet of T-shirt transfer material. It’d be nice if I could make just the letters print—no background color, in other words; I seem to remember producing a sweatshirt that way (and being surprised at how it came out), but I don’t remember what I did. One of the problems with being a “Renaissance man,” and being able to do a little of everything, is I don’t remember how to do anything very well. I won’t have a chance to work on the thongs until Monday. Monday, too, will be my opportunity to work on April’s songs.
Sunday, after Burlesque Show cast meeting, I went to one of the open mikes advertised on the Portland Songwriters Assn.’s Website—at a big bar hight The Spare Room, in northeast Portland—and it wasn’t happening. The bartender told me the open mike had stopped a couple of months ago, because they weren’t getting many musicians. (Too bad—the place has a large, beautiful dance floor.) And they reportedly tried having a DJ, but that apparently just produced police problems. So I left them a CD, and told them I was interested in being their Sunday night music. (Never stop selling.) Next week, I’ll try a different open mike—there’s still two more on the PSA list. I should call first, though.
Joe
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
ATTACKING PORTLAND...
Here’s the details on the Sept. 19 gig. I’ll be part of something called the “Favorite Show”—a monthly (I think) showcase hosted by Whitney Hampson, one of the ringleaders in and for Life’s SubtleTease, the burlesque troupe. It’s at Urban Grind East, a coffeehouse at 2214 NE Oregon (just north of Sandy Blvd.) in Portland.
Saturday, 19 September, when the doors open at 8 p.m., I’ll be playing. When the Official Show starts at 8:30, I’ll be the first act on. It’ll be just a couple of songs; there are, I understand, multiple acts, and it all moves pretty fast. I’ll have a new stack of CDs to sell (I finally broke down and got more made), but they’re the same old CDs. The new one won’t come out until this winter.
This is my latest attempt to break into the Portland market—something I’d really like to do, but haven’t had much success at yet. I expect it’s because I haven’t tried hard enough. Here’s a thought: I’m traveling to Portland at least once a week, this month, for Burlesque Show cast meetings every Sunday. There are at least three open mikes in Portland on Sunday nights (and that’s just on the Portland Songwriters Assn.’s calendar—I’m sure there are others). I’ll take the guitar (and CDs, of course). I’m in town, right? It’s an opportunity, too, to promote the Burlesque Show and anything else I’ve got scheduled.
Portland is a lot like Nashville, in that there’s an active live-music scene, but a lot of people are chasing very few dollars. (At least, it doesn’t appear to be as much of a closed club as Nashville.) To fully exploit it, one really ought to be living there—but I don’t want to live there. I had my fill of the big city when I was a kid growing up in Syracuse, N.Y. The Operative Question (as Richard Nixon used to call it) is what kind of impact I can have attacking the Portland scene from the outside.
It’ll take a while, but I don’t dare begrudge the time. Thing is, it costs a tank of gas to make a trip to Portland. I just need to make sure to play music when I’m already making the gas investment in something else.
UPCOMING: Job interview Thursday 9/10, to be a planner for state emergency management (that’s the place that e-mailed me instructions how to get past the guards and locked gates—sounds like an interesting place to work already). While I’m in Salem, I’ll pick up thongs, and stop by the giant bookstore (where I have over $50 worth of credit). Music just Friday this week, at City Hall. They won’t be having music again at the Tillamook Library until Saturday the 19th—the day of my Urban Grind gig. I didn’t get to film Rufus on Labor Day; that’s going to have to wait until Sunday the 13th. Sunday the 13th we should be having another sit-down of the Burlesque Troupe, too.
I wrote up (as requested) a “character map” of my stage persona, The Fool (we all adopted Tarot cards as trademarks); I think the purpose is to give the other actors clues as to what you’d do, or how you’d act, in various situations. It’s probably important for a group that operates as much in ad-lib territory as this one does. I envisioned The Fool as a zelig—the Woody Allen character who shows up in all the famous photographs but nobody can figure out why. He’s the guy everybody recognizes, but no one actually knows—he’s always somebody else’s friend. Like me, in other words. If I’m being myself on stage, I at least know how to behave.
One of the things I told them was I was obsessive about scripts: Must have a script, and must follow the script. At this point, with the show less than three weeks away, I still haven’t seen a script. And with my fixation on being thoroughly rehearsed, I have to know how I fit in. I’m not even sure what songs to play yet.
I get to try musicating a couple of “Nashville April” Johns songs this weekend, too. I’ll give her a just-music track she can record her own (very good) voice to One of them, “Family Portrait,” is one of those heart-rending lost-love songs, but expressed in a slightly unexpected way. It could go somewhere. I’ll see if I can’t give her a vehicle to run with.
Joe
Saturday, 19 September, when the doors open at 8 p.m., I’ll be playing. When the Official Show starts at 8:30, I’ll be the first act on. It’ll be just a couple of songs; there are, I understand, multiple acts, and it all moves pretty fast. I’ll have a new stack of CDs to sell (I finally broke down and got more made), but they’re the same old CDs. The new one won’t come out until this winter.
This is my latest attempt to break into the Portland market—something I’d really like to do, but haven’t had much success at yet. I expect it’s because I haven’t tried hard enough. Here’s a thought: I’m traveling to Portland at least once a week, this month, for Burlesque Show cast meetings every Sunday. There are at least three open mikes in Portland on Sunday nights (and that’s just on the Portland Songwriters Assn.’s calendar—I’m sure there are others). I’ll take the guitar (and CDs, of course). I’m in town, right? It’s an opportunity, too, to promote the Burlesque Show and anything else I’ve got scheduled.
Portland is a lot like Nashville, in that there’s an active live-music scene, but a lot of people are chasing very few dollars. (At least, it doesn’t appear to be as much of a closed club as Nashville.) To fully exploit it, one really ought to be living there—but I don’t want to live there. I had my fill of the big city when I was a kid growing up in Syracuse, N.Y. The Operative Question (as Richard Nixon used to call it) is what kind of impact I can have attacking the Portland scene from the outside.
It’ll take a while, but I don’t dare begrudge the time. Thing is, it costs a tank of gas to make a trip to Portland. I just need to make sure to play music when I’m already making the gas investment in something else.
UPCOMING: Job interview Thursday 9/10, to be a planner for state emergency management (that’s the place that e-mailed me instructions how to get past the guards and locked gates—sounds like an interesting place to work already). While I’m in Salem, I’ll pick up thongs, and stop by the giant bookstore (where I have over $50 worth of credit). Music just Friday this week, at City Hall. They won’t be having music again at the Tillamook Library until Saturday the 19th—the day of my Urban Grind gig. I didn’t get to film Rufus on Labor Day; that’s going to have to wait until Sunday the 13th. Sunday the 13th we should be having another sit-down of the Burlesque Troupe, too.
I wrote up (as requested) a “character map” of my stage persona, The Fool (we all adopted Tarot cards as trademarks); I think the purpose is to give the other actors clues as to what you’d do, or how you’d act, in various situations. It’s probably important for a group that operates as much in ad-lib territory as this one does. I envisioned The Fool as a zelig—the Woody Allen character who shows up in all the famous photographs but nobody can figure out why. He’s the guy everybody recognizes, but no one actually knows—he’s always somebody else’s friend. Like me, in other words. If I’m being myself on stage, I at least know how to behave.
One of the things I told them was I was obsessive about scripts: Must have a script, and must follow the script. At this point, with the show less than three weeks away, I still haven’t seen a script. And with my fixation on being thoroughly rehearsed, I have to know how I fit in. I’m not even sure what songs to play yet.
I get to try musicating a couple of “Nashville April” Johns songs this weekend, too. I’ll give her a just-music track she can record her own (very good) voice to One of them, “Family Portrait,” is one of those heart-rending lost-love songs, but expressed in a slightly unexpected way. It could go somewhere. I’ll see if I can’t give her a vehicle to run with.
Joe
Monday, September 7, 2009
THE BOTTOM LINE: BUTTS IN CHAIRS
I bought a book at a yard sale Saturday. I thought I’d add it to my Music Business Library (it’d be Book #3), but now I’m not so sure.
Hight “The Mansion on the Hill,” it purports to be a history of how rock ‘n’ roll lost its soul to the record companies. What I’ve read of it is a history of the marketing guys who seized on rock music as a potentially salable commodity, and proceeded to sell it. I’m not sure “soul” had anything to do with it. It is true that the music business has since passed out of the hands of people who were passionate about music and into the hands of people passionate just about selling—but that is the way of sales organizations, after all.
It has passed, too, from an “I can sell this” attitude to an “I can sell anything, so the product doesn’t matter” one. It’s a hubris similar to that which brought down the Big Three automakers (who not many years ago were the Big Four)—at some point, people will figure out a way to buy what they want rather than what you’re selling. That’s happening—that’s why sales of commercial CDs are plummeting. But I don’t think “soul” has anything to do with it. We’re seeing simply the failure of a hubris-based business plan.
Myself, I am inclined to ignore the record industry and its problems. They’re concerned about the sale of CDs, because that’s how they make their money. I don’t. What money I make off music is directly related to performance. I’ve sold CDs—sometimes it feels like I’ve sold a lot of them—but every one has been sold at or as a result of a performance. If I want to make money in music, I need to perform.
(Of course, I’m not really a performer. I’m a writer. I have simply learned how to be a performer because until I get way more famous, nobody’s going to be performing my material but me. It’s a means to an end, in other words. Can’t forget that.)
But I’m not making much off performing. The key there, I think, is I have to get known by more people—enlarge the fan base, in other words. Performing more helps; folks who have heard me once do tend to come back. All the networking stuff helps, too, but it’s got to be tied into performance, I think. I’ll use the Internet as a publicity tool—I don’t see any way I can make money off it, and I don’t think I’ll try. “Butts in chairs,” as one accountant put it, “is the bottom line.” (And that accountant might even have been me. I don’t remember.)
I hear a lot of talk these days about a New Business Model, or at least the need for one; what I just described is actually a very old business model. I think it’s still valid.
How does that translate into a work program? Well, I wanted to take some classes this fall; one of them ought to be in Website design. The local community college is offering one, and like a lot of classes these days, it’s on line. I haven’t had much luck creating a Joe Website on my own, but I need one—a central location that can link to everything else: the blogs, the music, the videos, the “joelist,” &c.
And we go after some gigs—solo and with the band. The band is scheduled to play at the “Rocktoberfest” 10 October (still need a lead player), and I’ve messaged the Neskowin Valley School about their Harvest Festival benefit; I’m trying to get a solo gig at Border’s in Beaverton (and I have the Urban Grind gig Sept. 19 and the Burlesque Show Sept. 26). All (or any) of those will cross-promote each other, and the more I have, the more I can promote.
Did I mention jobs? All of the recent job applications have been local—two at the Library (one full-time, one part-time), one at the school district (to be part-time assistant speech coach)—and I’ve got one more to turn in, to be secretary for the new Fire District. I might really get to be a homeboy. (I get to keep my soul, too.) That would be cool.
Joe
Hight “The Mansion on the Hill,” it purports to be a history of how rock ‘n’ roll lost its soul to the record companies. What I’ve read of it is a history of the marketing guys who seized on rock music as a potentially salable commodity, and proceeded to sell it. I’m not sure “soul” had anything to do with it. It is true that the music business has since passed out of the hands of people who were passionate about music and into the hands of people passionate just about selling—but that is the way of sales organizations, after all.
It has passed, too, from an “I can sell this” attitude to an “I can sell anything, so the product doesn’t matter” one. It’s a hubris similar to that which brought down the Big Three automakers (who not many years ago were the Big Four)—at some point, people will figure out a way to buy what they want rather than what you’re selling. That’s happening—that’s why sales of commercial CDs are plummeting. But I don’t think “soul” has anything to do with it. We’re seeing simply the failure of a hubris-based business plan.
Myself, I am inclined to ignore the record industry and its problems. They’re concerned about the sale of CDs, because that’s how they make their money. I don’t. What money I make off music is directly related to performance. I’ve sold CDs—sometimes it feels like I’ve sold a lot of them—but every one has been sold at or as a result of a performance. If I want to make money in music, I need to perform.
(Of course, I’m not really a performer. I’m a writer. I have simply learned how to be a performer because until I get way more famous, nobody’s going to be performing my material but me. It’s a means to an end, in other words. Can’t forget that.)
But I’m not making much off performing. The key there, I think, is I have to get known by more people—enlarge the fan base, in other words. Performing more helps; folks who have heard me once do tend to come back. All the networking stuff helps, too, but it’s got to be tied into performance, I think. I’ll use the Internet as a publicity tool—I don’t see any way I can make money off it, and I don’t think I’ll try. “Butts in chairs,” as one accountant put it, “is the bottom line.” (And that accountant might even have been me. I don’t remember.)
I hear a lot of talk these days about a New Business Model, or at least the need for one; what I just described is actually a very old business model. I think it’s still valid.
How does that translate into a work program? Well, I wanted to take some classes this fall; one of them ought to be in Website design. The local community college is offering one, and like a lot of classes these days, it’s on line. I haven’t had much luck creating a Joe Website on my own, but I need one—a central location that can link to everything else: the blogs, the music, the videos, the “joelist,” &c.
And we go after some gigs—solo and with the band. The band is scheduled to play at the “Rocktoberfest” 10 October (still need a lead player), and I’ve messaged the Neskowin Valley School about their Harvest Festival benefit; I’m trying to get a solo gig at Border’s in Beaverton (and I have the Urban Grind gig Sept. 19 and the Burlesque Show Sept. 26). All (or any) of those will cross-promote each other, and the more I have, the more I can promote.
Did I mention jobs? All of the recent job applications have been local—two at the Library (one full-time, one part-time), one at the school district (to be part-time assistant speech coach)—and I’ve got one more to turn in, to be secretary for the new Fire District. I might really get to be a homeboy. (I get to keep my soul, too.) That would be cool.
Joe
Saturday, September 5, 2009
A SUDDEN DEATH--AND PLANS...
I got word today that Sharma Kay—dear friend, fellow writer, inveterate encourager, and bass player in our brief Portland band—died, with her dad, in a car accident in California. She was, like, 37. Right now, her Website, www.musesk.com, is being maintained by friends—which she has a lot of. I’m sure it’ll take a little time to sink in; right now, it just feels weird, realizing that no matter what happens, she won’t be around any more.
Labor Day weekend is here, but for the unemployed, it’s nothing special; every day’s a non-working day. Music at City Hall with the Friday Night Group went well—nice crowd, with a bunch of out-of-town folks—and there’ll be music Sunday at the Tillamook Forestry Center. Monday afternoon I’ve arranged to video Rufus the dog doing Dog Things for Episode 4 of the “Joe Show”—I want to do “Me and Rufus, and Burnin’ Down the House” for the song. The discussion will—one more time, I think—be about inspiration. It would be nice if I could film something appropriate for background for the discussion, too.
The 19 September gig at Urban Grind East will be a short one, so there should be time to attend Mason’s bluegrass thing the same day. I still don’t know if I’m just listening, or if he’d like me to play. I did get an invite to play a Hillsboro coffeehouse, the Insomnia Coffee Co., Saturday night 5 September (their scheduled act apparently bailed on them), but I decided to pass—this time; I would like to do it, but one day is really short notice. I’d like to have enough warning so I can do some serious marketing.
And I hope I did the right thing. They haven’t responded to any of my e-mails since I told them “no,” and it’s possible that was my only shot at a gig there
Jeannette, our retired concert violinist who’s been playing with the Friday Night Group, said she’ll still be coming out from Portland to visit until the weather turns bad, so I hit her up to play fiddle on a couple of songs on the New Album—and she’s willing and interested. (We did one of the songs tonight at City Hall—“Hey, Little Chicken.”) I have a couple more Friday Night Group musicians I want to tap, too—Wayne on lead guitar, and “Chippewa Bob” on the musical saw. I’ll give them all CDs with “their” songs on ‘em, and then we’ll be on John’s schedule.
I want to record a “base” track that’s just rhythm guitar and drums, I think (we’ll include a “scratch” vocal and bass, too, that John can replace later), and then we can layer the lead instruments one by one as the opportunities present themselves. I am assuming that in most cases we’ll be able to record the lead in one or two takes; we’ve been able to do that thus far. Everybody is really good at what they do. I want a “whiny” lead (fiddle, harmonica, or saw) and a “non-whiny” lead (me or Wayne on lead guitar, or Denise on Jews’ harp) on every song this time around, I think.
I’ve got the studio to clear out and turn into a computer-repair facility, a computer to build from the parts I got at the college’s yard sale, a DVD drive and extra hard drive to install in “Alice,” house to clean, and classes to register for. And I’ve done none of it. I still need to re-do the Episode 3 video, too, which I’ve been putting off—I like things to be perfect the first time.
Still need, too, a lead player—and it pretty much doesn’t matter what instrument—for the “Rocktoberfest” concert on 10 October. I guess that one devolves on me, too, as part of the job of being front man for the band. I am supposed to know people. I wonder if I do…
Joe
Labor Day weekend is here, but for the unemployed, it’s nothing special; every day’s a non-working day. Music at City Hall with the Friday Night Group went well—nice crowd, with a bunch of out-of-town folks—and there’ll be music Sunday at the Tillamook Forestry Center. Monday afternoon I’ve arranged to video Rufus the dog doing Dog Things for Episode 4 of the “Joe Show”—I want to do “Me and Rufus, and Burnin’ Down the House” for the song. The discussion will—one more time, I think—be about inspiration. It would be nice if I could film something appropriate for background for the discussion, too.
The 19 September gig at Urban Grind East will be a short one, so there should be time to attend Mason’s bluegrass thing the same day. I still don’t know if I’m just listening, or if he’d like me to play. I did get an invite to play a Hillsboro coffeehouse, the Insomnia Coffee Co., Saturday night 5 September (their scheduled act apparently bailed on them), but I decided to pass—this time; I would like to do it, but one day is really short notice. I’d like to have enough warning so I can do some serious marketing.
And I hope I did the right thing. They haven’t responded to any of my e-mails since I told them “no,” and it’s possible that was my only shot at a gig there
Jeannette, our retired concert violinist who’s been playing with the Friday Night Group, said she’ll still be coming out from Portland to visit until the weather turns bad, so I hit her up to play fiddle on a couple of songs on the New Album—and she’s willing and interested. (We did one of the songs tonight at City Hall—“Hey, Little Chicken.”) I have a couple more Friday Night Group musicians I want to tap, too—Wayne on lead guitar, and “Chippewa Bob” on the musical saw. I’ll give them all CDs with “their” songs on ‘em, and then we’ll be on John’s schedule.
I want to record a “base” track that’s just rhythm guitar and drums, I think (we’ll include a “scratch” vocal and bass, too, that John can replace later), and then we can layer the lead instruments one by one as the opportunities present themselves. I am assuming that in most cases we’ll be able to record the lead in one or two takes; we’ve been able to do that thus far. Everybody is really good at what they do. I want a “whiny” lead (fiddle, harmonica, or saw) and a “non-whiny” lead (me or Wayne on lead guitar, or Denise on Jews’ harp) on every song this time around, I think.
I’ve got the studio to clear out and turn into a computer-repair facility, a computer to build from the parts I got at the college’s yard sale, a DVD drive and extra hard drive to install in “Alice,” house to clean, and classes to register for. And I’ve done none of it. I still need to re-do the Episode 3 video, too, which I’ve been putting off—I like things to be perfect the first time.
Still need, too, a lead player—and it pretty much doesn’t matter what instrument—for the “Rocktoberfest” concert on 10 October. I guess that one devolves on me, too, as part of the job of being front man for the band. I am supposed to know people. I wonder if I do…
Joe
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
'NO' FROM GOLD HILL...
A firm “no” from Gold Hill—they do not want me as their city manager. I had figured after the interview (which was a short one) they’d already made their minds up, and it wasn’t me, and I was right. (Sometimes I hate being right.) It’s disappointing in part because so many friends in southern Oregon were hoping I would get the job, and be moving back. Oh, well… I’ll send Gold Hill The Letter (haven’t sent it to anyone else thus far), thanking them for interviewing me and wishing them luck with the path they’ve chosen.
There’s still one state job in southern Oregon I understand I’m on the short list to be interviewed for, but that’s about it. If I don’t get that—and I’m not feeling awfully hopeful right now—a southern Oregon job is probably just not in the cards. I’ll just have to visit when I get the chances.
Continuing to be a city manager is probably not in the cards, either—I’ve been away from it for over a year, and that’s probably too long. I still have a few city-manager applications in the pipeline, but I am getting interviewed for other things now, and expect I will just be re-inventing myself all over again. It was a nice 15-year ride; it financed most of my daughter’s growing up, and even allowed us to be the quintessential Donna Reed Family through most of that period. I can’t complain.
I think the way things are going to go is I’ll be here, living on the Coast, in the house I’m still paying for, and I’ll have either a collection of part-time jobs locally, or else one of those state gigs within commuting distance, and I’ll be spending my spare time (and income) in school, getting that degree I’ve wanted for over ten years. And playing music. Got a good band (need a lead player for the next several months, though, while Dick is out of town), and I can supplement that with solo performances—I just need to do a whole lot more marketing to make those gigs (especially the ones in Portland) pay for themselves. And there’s an album to put out, too (I gave bass player/sound engineer John the list of songs today). I want that out by Christmas, and that is easier to accomplish if I’m living here.
I got an invite to do a show in Portland Sat. 19 September, at a coffeehouse hight Urban Grind East; no more information yet—the gig is being arranged by Whitney, one of the ringleaders of the Burlesque Show. I’ll milk it for all the publicity I can, telling all the folks I’ve solicited gigs from and also the couple of newspapers that cover Portland entertainment news. Mandolinist Mason Smith is putting on a bluegrass show at a Portland church the same day, and maybe I can attend that, too. (Mason hasn’t said yet if he wants me to play, or just come listen.)
The Burlesque Show is the following Saturday, 26 September, at the Hawthorne Theater in Portland. And just two weeks later is the “Rocktoberfest” being organized by music teacher Mike Simpson—at which he wants our band to play. (Did I mention we need a lead player?)
I don’t have a date yet for the Harvest Festival, the Neskowin Valley School’s big annual fundraiser; that’s usually in late September or early October, and I told them last year I wanted to help them with publicity this time around (they didn’t do a very good job of it last year). I don’t know yet whether the band will be interested in performing there or whether it’ll be just me. The Harvest Festival benefit concert was usually the close of my summer Concert Season, back when I had a job and worried about being able to travel in bad weather. I don’t have to worry about that now.
Joe
There’s still one state job in southern Oregon I understand I’m on the short list to be interviewed for, but that’s about it. If I don’t get that—and I’m not feeling awfully hopeful right now—a southern Oregon job is probably just not in the cards. I’ll just have to visit when I get the chances.
Continuing to be a city manager is probably not in the cards, either—I’ve been away from it for over a year, and that’s probably too long. I still have a few city-manager applications in the pipeline, but I am getting interviewed for other things now, and expect I will just be re-inventing myself all over again. It was a nice 15-year ride; it financed most of my daughter’s growing up, and even allowed us to be the quintessential Donna Reed Family through most of that period. I can’t complain.
I think the way things are going to go is I’ll be here, living on the Coast, in the house I’m still paying for, and I’ll have either a collection of part-time jobs locally, or else one of those state gigs within commuting distance, and I’ll be spending my spare time (and income) in school, getting that degree I’ve wanted for over ten years. And playing music. Got a good band (need a lead player for the next several months, though, while Dick is out of town), and I can supplement that with solo performances—I just need to do a whole lot more marketing to make those gigs (especially the ones in Portland) pay for themselves. And there’s an album to put out, too (I gave bass player/sound engineer John the list of songs today). I want that out by Christmas, and that is easier to accomplish if I’m living here.
I got an invite to do a show in Portland Sat. 19 September, at a coffeehouse hight Urban Grind East; no more information yet—the gig is being arranged by Whitney, one of the ringleaders of the Burlesque Show. I’ll milk it for all the publicity I can, telling all the folks I’ve solicited gigs from and also the couple of newspapers that cover Portland entertainment news. Mandolinist Mason Smith is putting on a bluegrass show at a Portland church the same day, and maybe I can attend that, too. (Mason hasn’t said yet if he wants me to play, or just come listen.)
The Burlesque Show is the following Saturday, 26 September, at the Hawthorne Theater in Portland. And just two weeks later is the “Rocktoberfest” being organized by music teacher Mike Simpson—at which he wants our band to play. (Did I mention we need a lead player?)
I don’t have a date yet for the Harvest Festival, the Neskowin Valley School’s big annual fundraiser; that’s usually in late September or early October, and I told them last year I wanted to help them with publicity this time around (they didn’t do a very good job of it last year). I don’t know yet whether the band will be interested in performing there or whether it’ll be just me. The Harvest Festival benefit concert was usually the close of my summer Concert Season, back when I had a job and worried about being able to travel in bad weather. I don’t have to worry about that now.
Joe
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