Every now and then, you get a nice little “upper” that makes you feel like you’re doing something worthwhile I’d mentioned before that “When They Die, I Put Them in the Cookies” was a hit with kids. I heard from one mom who said her 8-year-old is going to be in a talent show, and wants to perform “the cookie song.” Can he? Of course. I’m honored. I’ll record a non-vocal track so he can sing to it. Wish I could be there, but all this is going to take place somewhere in Texas. (His mom says she’s going to videotape it.)
Mike Simpson wants to record me and him playing the “Tillamook Railroad Blues” and maybe also the “Welcome to Hebo Waltz,” my two local-color songs. (He wants to put together an album of songs about Tillamook County, I think.) This will be an opportunity to see what Mike’s got in his studio, and how he uses it. I don’t know if we could incorporate the whole band in this project—I’m sure they’d be willing, but I don’t know what the limitations of Mike’s setup are.
The performance for the Monday Night Musical Club with Bill Briott (vocals), Joan Petty (piano), “Doc” Wagner (blues harp), and me (guitar) now has four songs—they’ve added “Sioux City Sue,” the Ray Freedman/Dick Thomas song which Willie Nelson and Leon Russell (and earlier, Bing Crosby) made famous. I downloaded the tablature (thank you, Internet); it’s pretty simple. Our 2-hour practice session is Tuesday afternoon, March 2. Show is the following Monday night, March 8.
That means next week I have the Bay City Arts Center’s Board meeting Monday night (to make sure about the Jim Nelson open mike Saturday), practice with the quartet Tuesday, music at the Garibaldi Pub Wednesday, rehearsal for “The Tempest” Thursday, music at City Hall on Friday, and at the Library Saturday afternoon (and the open mike Saturday night). There’s a “job fair” I should go to that Saturday morning, too. The following week, rehearsals for “The Tempest” begin in earnest.
That means I really need to have my voice back in order in the next few days (it left along with the cold I’m mostly over—happens every time). There are a few songs I can perform with a croak for a voice, and I did those Friday and Saturday, but my part in “The Tempest” requires me to shout my lines, and that’s not possible right now. One song I can croak that’s surprisingly popular is the Southern Pigfish talking blues, “The Strange Saga of Quoth, the Parrot”; it’s more musical than the average talking blues, because it’s really a two-step, but it doesn’t require any voice at all to perform it, since the lyrics are spoken. I expect people like the song because of its political message (understated, of course, in classic Southern Pigfish style)—there’s a lot of anti-government sentiment going around these days.
Thought I’d try my hand at a “Deathgrass” logo—something simple, with a skull, cowboy hat, and (of course) grass; I decided rather than Photoshopping it (which would be time-consuming), if I could find the right pieces, I could just stage a photograph. At the local Wheeler Dealer store, which was having a 90%-off sale, I got a miniature skull, and a rumpled-shirt ceramic body it’ll fit; I have grass outside (which I’ve had to mow twice this month). I may have a hat to fit the skull in my leftover stuff from Union (my entry in the Great Interplanetary Duck Race there wore a cowboy hat); if not, I know where I got the hat—the craft department at Wal-Mart. Once I’ve taken the photograph, I can add special effects easily. (I also got a cute stuffed skull with dreadlocks that might make a good logo on its own. Failing that, it’s a neat thing to hang from a microphone stand.)
Joe
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
BENEFIT CONCERT APRIL 24...
The benefit concert for Val Folkema is set for SATURDAY, 24 APRIL, 7 P.M. at The Landing in Bay City. Two bands, roughly 1-1/2 to 2 hours apiece; we’ll be first. I’d like to tap both “Doc” Wagner and Mike Simpson to play lead again (and may not know for a while if we can get them).
I presume since this is in a tavern, we’ll be wanting to do a lot of dance music. I don’t want to introduce a lot of new material (the more new material, the more practices we need—and everybody except me is busy), but I’d like us to have some new stuff, so we don’t sound the same every time we play. We have done five concerts now, and have a fair amount of material to pick from.
Some tunes from the Failed Economy Show that had people up and dancing:
Things Are Getting Better Now that Things Are Getting Worse (Gene Burnett)—fast two-step
For Their Own Ends (Southern Pigfish)—folk-rock
Un-Easy Street (Stan Good)—mod. two-step
Hey, Little Chicken—mod. slow quasi-blues
Our Own Little Stimulus Plan (Betty Holt)—Buddy Holly-style rockabilly
Final Payment (Gem Watson)—mod. two-step, with Gospel beat
Eatin’ Cornflakes from a Hubcap Blues—slow & sleazy quasi-blues
Dance a Little Longer (Woody Guthrie)—country-rock
We can add:
Tillamook Railroad Blues—deliberate blues (and local color)
Duct Tape—mod. fast country
Test Tube Baby—Elvis-style rock ‘n’ roll
Dead Things in the Shower—fast two-step (our usual opening song)
Bluebird on My Windshield—fast bluegrass
Ain’t Got No Home in This World Any More (Woody Guthrie)—mod. two-step
The Frog Next Door—deliberate blues
Valvoline—slow & sleazy [NEW]
Love Trails of the Zombie Snails (Southern Pigfish)—folk-rock [NEW]
A couple of waltzes that we’ve done before:
Welcome to Hebo Waltz—fast waltz (local color, again)
The Day the Earth Stood Still (Jeff Tanzer)—not-quite-as-fast, with Gospel beat
One more would make 20 songs—a solid 1-3/4 hours. Concentrating on danceability, I’d say it’s a choice between “Crosses By the Roadside,” “Armadillo on the Interstate” and “I’m Giving Mom a Dead Dog for Christmas.” Another possibility (though the band’s never played it) is the blues “She Ain’t Starvin’ Herself.” That gives us some two-steps of varying tempos, a couple waltzes, some blues, and some tunes the band is going to play as rock ‘n’ roll. It ought to be a fun show.
Next steps: make sure we’ve got lead players (I’d really like to tap Doc and Mike again), figure out an order for the list (and make CDs for everybody), and see if our local pastor with the mobile recording equipment would be interested in recording a show that’s going to be in a tavern (if not, we’ll wait on the live recording till the Food Pantry benefit in June).
Joe
I presume since this is in a tavern, we’ll be wanting to do a lot of dance music. I don’t want to introduce a lot of new material (the more new material, the more practices we need—and everybody except me is busy), but I’d like us to have some new stuff, so we don’t sound the same every time we play. We have done five concerts now, and have a fair amount of material to pick from.
Some tunes from the Failed Economy Show that had people up and dancing:
Things Are Getting Better Now that Things Are Getting Worse (Gene Burnett)—fast two-step
For Their Own Ends (Southern Pigfish)—folk-rock
Un-Easy Street (Stan Good)—mod. two-step
Hey, Little Chicken—mod. slow quasi-blues
Our Own Little Stimulus Plan (Betty Holt)—Buddy Holly-style rockabilly
Final Payment (Gem Watson)—mod. two-step, with Gospel beat
Eatin’ Cornflakes from a Hubcap Blues—slow & sleazy quasi-blues
Dance a Little Longer (Woody Guthrie)—country-rock
We can add:
Tillamook Railroad Blues—deliberate blues (and local color)
Duct Tape—mod. fast country
Test Tube Baby—Elvis-style rock ‘n’ roll
Dead Things in the Shower—fast two-step (our usual opening song)
Bluebird on My Windshield—fast bluegrass
Ain’t Got No Home in This World Any More (Woody Guthrie)—mod. two-step
The Frog Next Door—deliberate blues
Valvoline—slow & sleazy [NEW]
Love Trails of the Zombie Snails (Southern Pigfish)—folk-rock [NEW]
A couple of waltzes that we’ve done before:
Welcome to Hebo Waltz—fast waltz (local color, again)
The Day the Earth Stood Still (Jeff Tanzer)—not-quite-as-fast, with Gospel beat
One more would make 20 songs—a solid 1-3/4 hours. Concentrating on danceability, I’d say it’s a choice between “Crosses By the Roadside,” “Armadillo on the Interstate” and “I’m Giving Mom a Dead Dog for Christmas.” Another possibility (though the band’s never played it) is the blues “She Ain’t Starvin’ Herself.” That gives us some two-steps of varying tempos, a couple waltzes, some blues, and some tunes the band is going to play as rock ‘n’ roll. It ought to be a fun show.
Next steps: make sure we’ve got lead players (I’d really like to tap Doc and Mike again), figure out an order for the list (and make CDs for everybody), and see if our local pastor with the mobile recording equipment would be interested in recording a show that’s going to be in a tavern (if not, we’ll wait on the live recording till the Food Pantry benefit in June).
Joe
Monday, February 22, 2010
THE NEW BUSINESS MODEL?
If I count both “Last Song of the Highwayman” and “Up in Heaven, the Angels Play Music” as “keepers”—and I think I will—I am still on schedule writing an average of one good song a month. The former song is not precisely a medieval ballad, nor is the latter precisely a polka; “not precisely” seems to apply to a lot of my songs. Not having anything else in the mental pipeline right now, I’ll devote my attention to musicating a couple of lyrics penned by other folks that have been hanging fire, “He’s a Man—This is a Bar” and “The Cat Goddess Creeps.” (The latter also needs to be a music video. I do have fresh batteries in the camera.)
I met Bill Briot, the vocalist I’ll be playing with (along with “Doc” Wagner and a piano teacher) at the Monday Night Musical March 8; he stopped in briefly at the Library Saturday (I expect in part to check out whether I really could play guitar well, which I think I was doing that day). Our performance has grown to three songs now; in addition to “All My Exes Live in Texas,” we’ll be doing “Release Me” and “Today I Started Loving You Again,” both of which Doc and I have played a lot before. We’ll get to practice just once before the performance, I think. This is a little like being invited into the second circle of Heaven; these guys are the real professionals, and I’ve never been invited to hang with them before.
Thoughts on the New Business Model for the music industry. I’m not sure there is one. Strip the big record companies out of the picture, and what’s left looks an awful lot like the music business did in the 1920s, only with *.mp3s on the Internet replacing 78-rpm records on little radio stations (and both the records and the radio were themselves new technologies in the 1920s). Now as then, a plethora of artists and small, independent labels—and “stations.” Probably even more today, since the requisite technology has become so cheap and available. If the situation is much the same, shouldn’t the marketing strategy be also?
What one wanted to do back in the 1920s is get one’s record played as often as possible on as many stations as possible. Not for money—one hoped to draw people to shows, or to buy records at the record store, the two cases where the artist made money. The writer made money when a record was pressed with the writer’s song on it—Federal law says so. If writer and artist were the same person, writer-artist made money both ways. I don’t think any of that has changed.
I think that answers the question, “Should I have my music being played on internet ‘stations’?” The answer is yes. There is no money in it; there is only exposure—the same thing an artist got in the 1920s. “Butts in seats” (at concerts) and sales at the record store are still the only ways to make money. At least today, distribution is cheaper, because one doesn’t have to move as much physical product around. And thanks to the Internet’s distance-shortening capabilities, one needs fewer “stores.” I do need a Website.
I also need more—and more frequent—“product.” It’s not so much that people’s attention spans have gotten shorter, but rather that I’m dealing with a more limited market. Unlike the big record companies, I don’t have a million people I can sell a CD to; I might have a thousand. But I could probably sell ‘em a CD a year if I had a CD a year to sell them. I have enough material for a CD every year—I’ve been pretty consistent about that. I just need to have one produced. And I do know how to get a CD produced cheap—an important consideration if one is doing short runs.
Joe
I met Bill Briot, the vocalist I’ll be playing with (along with “Doc” Wagner and a piano teacher) at the Monday Night Musical March 8; he stopped in briefly at the Library Saturday (I expect in part to check out whether I really could play guitar well, which I think I was doing that day). Our performance has grown to three songs now; in addition to “All My Exes Live in Texas,” we’ll be doing “Release Me” and “Today I Started Loving You Again,” both of which Doc and I have played a lot before. We’ll get to practice just once before the performance, I think. This is a little like being invited into the second circle of Heaven; these guys are the real professionals, and I’ve never been invited to hang with them before.
Thoughts on the New Business Model for the music industry. I’m not sure there is one. Strip the big record companies out of the picture, and what’s left looks an awful lot like the music business did in the 1920s, only with *.mp3s on the Internet replacing 78-rpm records on little radio stations (and both the records and the radio were themselves new technologies in the 1920s). Now as then, a plethora of artists and small, independent labels—and “stations.” Probably even more today, since the requisite technology has become so cheap and available. If the situation is much the same, shouldn’t the marketing strategy be also?
What one wanted to do back in the 1920s is get one’s record played as often as possible on as many stations as possible. Not for money—one hoped to draw people to shows, or to buy records at the record store, the two cases where the artist made money. The writer made money when a record was pressed with the writer’s song on it—Federal law says so. If writer and artist were the same person, writer-artist made money both ways. I don’t think any of that has changed.
I think that answers the question, “Should I have my music being played on internet ‘stations’?” The answer is yes. There is no money in it; there is only exposure—the same thing an artist got in the 1920s. “Butts in seats” (at concerts) and sales at the record store are still the only ways to make money. At least today, distribution is cheaper, because one doesn’t have to move as much physical product around. And thanks to the Internet’s distance-shortening capabilities, one needs fewer “stores.” I do need a Website.
I also need more—and more frequent—“product.” It’s not so much that people’s attention spans have gotten shorter, but rather that I’m dealing with a more limited market. Unlike the big record companies, I don’t have a million people I can sell a CD to; I might have a thousand. But I could probably sell ‘em a CD a year if I had a CD a year to sell them. I have enough material for a CD every year—I’ve been pretty consistent about that. I just need to have one produced. And I do know how to get a CD produced cheap—an important consideration if one is doing short runs.
Joe
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
ASH WEDNESDAY...
HAPPY ASH WEDNESDAY… The new song, tentatively hight “Up in Heaven the Angels Play Music,” is in final form, I think, and recorded. Not really a religious song (except in the sense that “Can I Have Your Car When the Rapture Comes?” is a religious song). I will plan on performing it at the library next Saturday, and see what folks there call it—that’ll be its real title. (That’s if folks bother to request it again, of course; if they don’t, it won’t matter). Link is http://www.soundclick.com/share?songid=8772093.
The musicians at the library on Saturday and at City Hall on Friday were all trying to do love songs, in honor of Valentine’s Day, so I gave the library folks “When I Jump Off the Cliff I’ll Think of You,” “Rotten Candy” (which was actually written on Valentine’s Day) and the Southern Pigfish anthem, “Love Trails of the Zombie Snails”; the folks at City Hall got to hear “Armadillo on the Interstate” and “Always Pet the Dogs.” Sold a CD Friday night, too.
And on Saturday, I gave two CDs away. One went to Jane Scott, the video lady, who was filming Saturday morning’s visit by the local Congressman; Jane and I did the “Jeff Benson thing”—she apologized for never returning my phone calls, and I told her it was all right, and we both agreed we were both still interested in videotaping a “Deathgrass” concert to air on local cable TV (which covers two counties). She was excited about getting the CD, and with luck it will make her more interested in filming a concert. The other CD went to our local state representative, who had come to hear the Congressman (and apologized for not donating to the Food Pantry like she’d promised to); in her case, the CD may make her interested in coming to the next concert. Tentatively, we’ve got one concert around St. Leif’s Day (March 29), and one in June—another benefit for the Food Pantry.
Music this week Wednesday and Saturday; I have City Council meetings to cover for the paper Tuesday and Thursday nights, a high school debate tournament to help judge Friday, and rehearsals for “The Tempest” Sunday (and next Tuesday, too), but it still feels like I’m not doing enough. The following week, I have Thursday nght free, and I think I’ll essay a trip into Portland for one of those open mikes. (There’s an open mike in Portland Friday night, too, that I might be able to get to after the speech tournament.)
Open mikes may be the way to go to develop a bigger fan base, or a fan base in a new market (like Portland); I don’t have to generate an audience, because they’re already there. All I have to do is impress them. If I do it right, I may have people inviting me to do shows after a while, and people willing to attend them. I probably can devote one night a week long-term to this effort. I probably cannot afford to do more.
I got word of somebody starting an open mike in Manzanita (20 miles or so north of here), and I offered myself; I think they really want bands, though—essentially auditioning talent they can hire to play weekends come summer—and I don’t think I can commit the band to an audition. I did tell the Manzanita folks the band was probably available come summer, but absent something they can listen to (CD) or watch (DVD), that may not matter much. I did see someone advertising on Portland Craigslist to record (for a fee, of course) live concerts—and it occurs to me I know somebody in this area who says he can do that, too: a local minister with some good recording equipment. I wonder if he’d be interested in recording the St. Leif’s concert?
Joe
The musicians at the library on Saturday and at City Hall on Friday were all trying to do love songs, in honor of Valentine’s Day, so I gave the library folks “When I Jump Off the Cliff I’ll Think of You,” “Rotten Candy” (which was actually written on Valentine’s Day) and the Southern Pigfish anthem, “Love Trails of the Zombie Snails”; the folks at City Hall got to hear “Armadillo on the Interstate” and “Always Pet the Dogs.” Sold a CD Friday night, too.
And on Saturday, I gave two CDs away. One went to Jane Scott, the video lady, who was filming Saturday morning’s visit by the local Congressman; Jane and I did the “Jeff Benson thing”—she apologized for never returning my phone calls, and I told her it was all right, and we both agreed we were both still interested in videotaping a “Deathgrass” concert to air on local cable TV (which covers two counties). She was excited about getting the CD, and with luck it will make her more interested in filming a concert. The other CD went to our local state representative, who had come to hear the Congressman (and apologized for not donating to the Food Pantry like she’d promised to); in her case, the CD may make her interested in coming to the next concert. Tentatively, we’ve got one concert around St. Leif’s Day (March 29), and one in June—another benefit for the Food Pantry.
Music this week Wednesday and Saturday; I have City Council meetings to cover for the paper Tuesday and Thursday nights, a high school debate tournament to help judge Friday, and rehearsals for “The Tempest” Sunday (and next Tuesday, too), but it still feels like I’m not doing enough. The following week, I have Thursday nght free, and I think I’ll essay a trip into Portland for one of those open mikes. (There’s an open mike in Portland Friday night, too, that I might be able to get to after the speech tournament.)
Open mikes may be the way to go to develop a bigger fan base, or a fan base in a new market (like Portland); I don’t have to generate an audience, because they’re already there. All I have to do is impress them. If I do it right, I may have people inviting me to do shows after a while, and people willing to attend them. I probably can devote one night a week long-term to this effort. I probably cannot afford to do more.
I got word of somebody starting an open mike in Manzanita (20 miles or so north of here), and I offered myself; I think they really want bands, though—essentially auditioning talent they can hire to play weekends come summer—and I don’t think I can commit the band to an audition. I did tell the Manzanita folks the band was probably available come summer, but absent something they can listen to (CD) or watch (DVD), that may not matter much. I did see someone advertising on Portland Craigslist to record (for a fee, of course) live concerts—and it occurs to me I know somebody in this area who says he can do that, too: a local minister with some good recording equipment. I wonder if he’d be interested in recording the St. Leif’s concert?
Joe
Friday, February 12, 2010
AND ON FRIDAY, THE ASTORIA BAND BREAKS UP...
First Wednesday afternoon at the Garibaldi Pub was good. Ultimately, there were six of us—four guitars, one vocalist, and one fiddle. Appreciative audience, too (someone even left a tip). We’ll do it again next Wednesday. It could become a regular thing. We did the Circle Thing—each person leads a song, and everybody else follows. I was trying to limit what I did to covers, assuming everybody knew those—the one Leon Payne song I can sing, the one Hank Williams song I can sing, one of a couple Woody Guthrie songs I can sing, and so on—but somebody requested one of mine, and I not only had two people playing lead, I had people singing along on the chorus. I think I may have become an institution.
Good to hear musician gossip, too. I heard that one duo that had been getting a number of gigs in this area had got caught up in the “we only pay for pay” routine, and abandoned most of their non-paying gigs, which are looking for replacements; they’ve also since lost a few of their paying gigs, and those need replacements, too. It’d be good to not have to do that solo; not only do I think I’m a better musician when I’m playing with somebody else, I think I’m a better salesman when I’m soliciting for somebody besides me, too.
Feb. 11 came, without a demo finished of “Un-Easy Street”; I therefore sent “Duct Tape” to the MerleFest’s Chris Austin Songwriting Contest (deadline is Feb. 18). I used the commercially-done recording from the “Santa’s Fallen” album. I should be looking for another contest to enter; with the first “filter” of MerleFest entries being done by a pool of Nashville professionals, I may not stand much of a chance. I like contests I think I can win, and I’m not sure any more that I can win this one, even though I’ve entered.
The band in Astoria is breaking up—has broken up, I guess; the lead player (who was very good) doesn’t want to do it any more, I think because it’s too far a drive for him (I understand—it’s a 2-hour drive for me). It allows me to feel regretful—I still haven’t played that Strat in public—but I’d been wondering myself if I was a good enough rock rhythm player to hang with these guys. I can do okay with country music, even playing lead, with occasional forays into bluegrass and blues, where I can kind of hold my own. At the risk of being typecast, maybe that’s what I should stick to.
On the plus side, the band breakup has theoretically generated some free time (well, all my time is free, really—when one is unemployed, time has no value). I had committed myself to traveling out of town one night a week to practice with these guys. I could continue going out of town one night (or day) a week, just going somewhere else. (I even did that this past week, going into Portland to play at the Thirsty Lion.) Thursday nights are good for this (after next week); there’s Whitney Streed’s comedy open mike at the Mt. Tabor, and also a “writer’s night” at a place called Macadam’s, both in Portland. Cost to me is a tank of gas and a couple of overpriced soft drinks. There isn’t a time cost because (as noted above) my time has no value. I have harped on the need for exposure, and that one cannot get the exposure without performing out. If and as opportunities present themselves to perform more locally, I can substitute those for the trips out of town.
And the new song? More like the New Song In Progress, but it’s progressing—the first verse finally fell into place this morning, so I now have first, third, and fifth verses, I think. Since there’s no chorus, just a refrain (yes, another one of those), it probably needs to have six or seven verses to hit the “magic length” of 3-1/2 minutes. It’s bluegrass music (though I put the death in the first verse, rather than the last, just to be perverse), so it’ll move pretty fast. Just a “there ain’t gonna be no good music in Heaven ‘cause there’s nothing to write about” song. I could hear Polly Hager’s band doing it, but they may not be interested: it’s definitely not rock ‘n’ roll. I don’t expect it’ll be finished and practiced enough to perform it at City Hall tonight; tomorrow at the library? Maybe.
Joe
Good to hear musician gossip, too. I heard that one duo that had been getting a number of gigs in this area had got caught up in the “we only pay for pay” routine, and abandoned most of their non-paying gigs, which are looking for replacements; they’ve also since lost a few of their paying gigs, and those need replacements, too. It’d be good to not have to do that solo; not only do I think I’m a better musician when I’m playing with somebody else, I think I’m a better salesman when I’m soliciting for somebody besides me, too.
Feb. 11 came, without a demo finished of “Un-Easy Street”; I therefore sent “Duct Tape” to the MerleFest’s Chris Austin Songwriting Contest (deadline is Feb. 18). I used the commercially-done recording from the “Santa’s Fallen” album. I should be looking for another contest to enter; with the first “filter” of MerleFest entries being done by a pool of Nashville professionals, I may not stand much of a chance. I like contests I think I can win, and I’m not sure any more that I can win this one, even though I’ve entered.
The band in Astoria is breaking up—has broken up, I guess; the lead player (who was very good) doesn’t want to do it any more, I think because it’s too far a drive for him (I understand—it’s a 2-hour drive for me). It allows me to feel regretful—I still haven’t played that Strat in public—but I’d been wondering myself if I was a good enough rock rhythm player to hang with these guys. I can do okay with country music, even playing lead, with occasional forays into bluegrass and blues, where I can kind of hold my own. At the risk of being typecast, maybe that’s what I should stick to.
On the plus side, the band breakup has theoretically generated some free time (well, all my time is free, really—when one is unemployed, time has no value). I had committed myself to traveling out of town one night a week to practice with these guys. I could continue going out of town one night (or day) a week, just going somewhere else. (I even did that this past week, going into Portland to play at the Thirsty Lion.) Thursday nights are good for this (after next week); there’s Whitney Streed’s comedy open mike at the Mt. Tabor, and also a “writer’s night” at a place called Macadam’s, both in Portland. Cost to me is a tank of gas and a couple of overpriced soft drinks. There isn’t a time cost because (as noted above) my time has no value. I have harped on the need for exposure, and that one cannot get the exposure without performing out. If and as opportunities present themselves to perform more locally, I can substitute those for the trips out of town.
And the new song? More like the New Song In Progress, but it’s progressing—the first verse finally fell into place this morning, so I now have first, third, and fifth verses, I think. Since there’s no chorus, just a refrain (yes, another one of those), it probably needs to have six or seven verses to hit the “magic length” of 3-1/2 minutes. It’s bluegrass music (though I put the death in the first verse, rather than the last, just to be perverse), so it’ll move pretty fast. Just a “there ain’t gonna be no good music in Heaven ‘cause there’s nothing to write about” song. I could hear Polly Hager’s band doing it, but they may not be interested: it’s definitely not rock ‘n’ roll. I don’t expect it’ll be finished and practiced enough to perform it at City Hall tonight; tomorrow at the library? Maybe.
Joe
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
THIRSTY LION POST-MORTEM...
The Thirsty Lion gig wasn’t a disappointment, because I didn’t intend it to be. No, no money, no CD sales, and no additions to the “joelist,” but the audience was pretty appreciative (if pretty small), and I got to play what I wanted, and it was fun. Host Eric John Kaiser did remember me (I thought he might). They got six songs:
Take-Out Food (Stan Good)
When I Jump Off the Cliff I’ll Think of You
Hey, Little Chicken
The Abomination Two-Step
Armadillo on the interstate
Crosses by the Roadside
In order: death, lost love, betrayal, religion, and dead animals, plus one serious song. Alternating fast and slow songs as usual, so things don’t sound alike—but I think I perform the two-steps better. The audience liked “The Abomination Two-Step” a lot (most outrageous song on the list), and “Crosses by the Roadside” the best—but by the time we got to that one, I had their attention, so it was to be expected. The other musicians (well, two out of three) paid attention, too, and both approached me afterwards to tell me how much they liked what Eric John Kaiser called the “stories.”
And those two guys were pretty good themselves. The black guy who spoke French (Haitian, maybe?) definitely had command of his instrument, and had really catchy rhythms and melodies; nothing really new in the subject matter, which was mostly love songs, but all that means is that nobody famous is going to be cutting his stuff. Definitely worth listening to. The other one, whom I thought of as “the kid” (he was obviously over 21—this was a bar), had singing and guitar playing reminiscent of Robbie Robertson of The Band, and had written some very good material. Probably as close to country music as one is going to get in Portland. (The third guy, who played what he called “acoustic pop rock,” probably doesn’t warrant mention; he may have been full of himself, but he wasn’t very good. I hope I don’t come across like him on stage.)
I signed the usual release form allowing Portland Concert Coop to air a video of my performance (they never did air the last one, but Eric promised it’d air this time); Eric did the videotaping, and it streamed live on justintv. I assume there’s video footage archived somewhere, and I would like to see it. I would like to see how I come across in public.
And I got—maybe—the beginnings of a new song on the way home. I do need to get out more. That’s where the inspiration is.
The benefit concert for Val will be late March or early April, I’m told—close enough to give it a St. leif’s Day theme. (That probably means the band needs to learn “The Six-Legged Polka.”) We’ve got John (bass), Chris (drums) and me (rhythm guitar); we can’t have Doc—he’ll be out of town—but maybe we can enlist Mike to play lead guitar. The organizers were thinking about having two bands, and I recommended they have each band do an hour-and-a-half show—that’d allow folks to make an evening of it, and it wouldn’t be hard on the musicians.
And I’ve been tapped (thanks to wife Sandee) to play guitar at a Tillamook Monday Night Musical performance. Just one song—Bill Brio’s singing “All My Exes Live in Texas,” accompanied by a music teacher who plays piano, Doc Wagner on the blues harp—and me. Just a fun thing—but this group are seriously professional (and classical) musicians. It’d be good to hook up with them.
Joe
Take-Out Food (Stan Good)
When I Jump Off the Cliff I’ll Think of You
Hey, Little Chicken
The Abomination Two-Step
Armadillo on the interstate
Crosses by the Roadside
In order: death, lost love, betrayal, religion, and dead animals, plus one serious song. Alternating fast and slow songs as usual, so things don’t sound alike—but I think I perform the two-steps better. The audience liked “The Abomination Two-Step” a lot (most outrageous song on the list), and “Crosses by the Roadside” the best—but by the time we got to that one, I had their attention, so it was to be expected. The other musicians (well, two out of three) paid attention, too, and both approached me afterwards to tell me how much they liked what Eric John Kaiser called the “stories.”
And those two guys were pretty good themselves. The black guy who spoke French (Haitian, maybe?) definitely had command of his instrument, and had really catchy rhythms and melodies; nothing really new in the subject matter, which was mostly love songs, but all that means is that nobody famous is going to be cutting his stuff. Definitely worth listening to. The other one, whom I thought of as “the kid” (he was obviously over 21—this was a bar), had singing and guitar playing reminiscent of Robbie Robertson of The Band, and had written some very good material. Probably as close to country music as one is going to get in Portland. (The third guy, who played what he called “acoustic pop rock,” probably doesn’t warrant mention; he may have been full of himself, but he wasn’t very good. I hope I don’t come across like him on stage.)
I signed the usual release form allowing Portland Concert Coop to air a video of my performance (they never did air the last one, but Eric promised it’d air this time); Eric did the videotaping, and it streamed live on justintv. I assume there’s video footage archived somewhere, and I would like to see it. I would like to see how I come across in public.
And I got—maybe—the beginnings of a new song on the way home. I do need to get out more. That’s where the inspiration is.
The benefit concert for Val will be late March or early April, I’m told—close enough to give it a St. leif’s Day theme. (That probably means the band needs to learn “The Six-Legged Polka.”) We’ve got John (bass), Chris (drums) and me (rhythm guitar); we can’t have Doc—he’ll be out of town—but maybe we can enlist Mike to play lead guitar. The organizers were thinking about having two bands, and I recommended they have each band do an hour-and-a-half show—that’d allow folks to make an evening of it, and it wouldn’t be hard on the musicians.
And I’ve been tapped (thanks to wife Sandee) to play guitar at a Tillamook Monday Night Musical performance. Just one song—Bill Brio’s singing “All My Exes Live in Texas,” accompanied by a music teacher who plays piano, Doc Wagner on the blues harp—and me. Just a fun thing—but this group are seriously professional (and classical) musicians. It’d be good to hook up with them.
Joe
Sunday, February 7, 2010
RADIO (&C.)...
So a writer in Florida posts on a Website out of Indiana that a radio station DJ in Manchester, England is looking for country music for his show, and the DJ gets submissions from folks in Oregon (me), California, Tennessee, Florida, Texas, and Nova Scotia (it’s in Canada, but it’s close). Is this a new thing? Not really; 30-plus years ago, myself and another guy would go on the road with a Dodson Drifters single for several weeks, hitting every rural radio station that played country music, and talk to the DJs and give them the record. If they liked it, they’d play it, and if people liked it, they’d request it. This isn’t any different.
It feels different because it doesn’t happen very often. There are few radio stations with live DJs in control of their own playlists any more; where there are, you can still get airplay for good stuff. There’s the Internet now, too; it shortens distance—and that’s a good thing; that radio station is in England, and I couldn’t drive there. I don’t have to. I also know a few people in England (thanks again to the Internet), and if the DJ does agree to play my stuff, I’ll let those folks know, and maybe the DJ will get some calls from “fans.” That kind of deck-stacking wasn’t possible 30 years ago, either.
Is there a lesson here? Maybe; it’s not about the value of the Internet as a marketing tool, though, but rather about the value of “networking,” as it’s called in the Modern Era—people staying in touch with each other, and helping each other out. The Internet, I think, simply allows one to be in touch with a larger number of people over a wider area. From my end, I need to find ways to become more efficient about it, else it will become way too time-consuming. I have not managed that yet.
The Ballad—tentatively titled “Last Song of the Highwayman”—is finished, I think. Of course it’s not hit material; there hasn’t been a market for medieval folk ballads for decades, and even when there was, nobody wanted original ones—they wanted renditions of traditional ones out of the Child and suchlike catalogs. “Last Song of the Highwayman” is just an application of the “write in different genres” item on the 2010 Worklist. (And it’s not the only new genre I plan to write in.) I really don’t know what sort of venue (if any) it might be performable in.
I ran into Jeff Benson in Tillamook; we hadn’t talked since he bailed out suddenly from the First Failed Economy Show, leaving us without a lead guitarist. We sorta made up, I think; he sort of apologized, and I sort of let him know there were no hard feelings. I reminded him there’s been no live music at the Ghost Hole in Garibaldi since he moved, and he and I stopped performing there, and maybe we’ll do it again. Good singing voice, decent lead guitarist, and he’s written a few tunes that are pretty good, and ought to get played more (one of the things I think playing with me did was encourage him to perform his own original material).
The band “Deathgrass” is tentatively being tapped to play a benefit concert in March for our local Port Commission president, who just had a cancer operation; I’m game, and so is drummer Chris, but I don’t know about the rest. Blues harpist “Doc”’s availability gets a bit limited in March. In addition, Terry Kandle, our local fiddle player, wants to assemble a small group of acoustic musicians to jam at the Garibaldi Pub (next door to the Ghost Hole) Wednesday afternoons. Wednesday afternoons I can do—not being employed and all.
Thirsty Lion gig Tuesday night, the jam Wednesday, practice with the band in Astoria on Friday, and music at the library on Saturday, plus a couple of city council meetings to cover for the paper and my column to write. Are we busy yet?
Joe
It feels different because it doesn’t happen very often. There are few radio stations with live DJs in control of their own playlists any more; where there are, you can still get airplay for good stuff. There’s the Internet now, too; it shortens distance—and that’s a good thing; that radio station is in England, and I couldn’t drive there. I don’t have to. I also know a few people in England (thanks again to the Internet), and if the DJ does agree to play my stuff, I’ll let those folks know, and maybe the DJ will get some calls from “fans.” That kind of deck-stacking wasn’t possible 30 years ago, either.
Is there a lesson here? Maybe; it’s not about the value of the Internet as a marketing tool, though, but rather about the value of “networking,” as it’s called in the Modern Era—people staying in touch with each other, and helping each other out. The Internet, I think, simply allows one to be in touch with a larger number of people over a wider area. From my end, I need to find ways to become more efficient about it, else it will become way too time-consuming. I have not managed that yet.
The Ballad—tentatively titled “Last Song of the Highwayman”—is finished, I think. Of course it’s not hit material; there hasn’t been a market for medieval folk ballads for decades, and even when there was, nobody wanted original ones—they wanted renditions of traditional ones out of the Child and suchlike catalogs. “Last Song of the Highwayman” is just an application of the “write in different genres” item on the 2010 Worklist. (And it’s not the only new genre I plan to write in.) I really don’t know what sort of venue (if any) it might be performable in.
I ran into Jeff Benson in Tillamook; we hadn’t talked since he bailed out suddenly from the First Failed Economy Show, leaving us without a lead guitarist. We sorta made up, I think; he sort of apologized, and I sort of let him know there were no hard feelings. I reminded him there’s been no live music at the Ghost Hole in Garibaldi since he moved, and he and I stopped performing there, and maybe we’ll do it again. Good singing voice, decent lead guitarist, and he’s written a few tunes that are pretty good, and ought to get played more (one of the things I think playing with me did was encourage him to perform his own original material).
The band “Deathgrass” is tentatively being tapped to play a benefit concert in March for our local Port Commission president, who just had a cancer operation; I’m game, and so is drummer Chris, but I don’t know about the rest. Blues harpist “Doc”’s availability gets a bit limited in March. In addition, Terry Kandle, our local fiddle player, wants to assemble a small group of acoustic musicians to jam at the Garibaldi Pub (next door to the Ghost Hole) Wednesday afternoons. Wednesday afternoons I can do—not being employed and all.
Thirsty Lion gig Tuesday night, the jam Wednesday, practice with the band in Astoria on Friday, and music at the library on Saturday, plus a couple of city council meetings to cover for the paper and my column to write. Are we busy yet?
Joe
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
"THE TEMPEST," ET AL...
Yes, I will be the bo’sun in TAPA’s production of Shakespeare’s “The Tempest.” Crusty, crotchety old fellow with relatively few lines (mostly chewing out the Idjit Noblemen who keep getting in the way while the ship is sinking). Yes, I can do that. It’s almost type-casting.
It would be possible—and I suggested it—to do “The Tempest” as Rock Opera, rather than using the conventional Elizabethan-music soundtrack; so many classic rock songs would be appropriate for this play (the authors of the songs may in fact have stolen some of their lines from ol’ Bill, who was dead and didn’t care)—in the chase scene, for instance, with the conjured-up wolves, why couldn’t one play “Who Let the Dogs Out?” as the evildoers flounder about on (and eventually off) stage?
It would be fun. (It’s also unlikely to happen.) They may, however, take my suggestion of having the cast take their final bows to the strains of The Monkees’ “I’m a Believer”; it has that classic line (perfect for this play), “I thought love was only true in fairy tales…”
Another call from the music publisher in California to her mailing list, this time for a “funny, funny” song; that one sounded like it was directed at me—most of my material is humorous. She only wanted one submission, though, and it was hard to choose, even given the parameters (radio-ready master available, and not published elsewhere)—9 of the 11 songs on the “Santa’s Fallen” CD would work, for instance, and I have more besides that. I ended up sending the classic: “I’m Giving Mom a Dead Dog for Christmas,” with Anna Snook on fiddle, Matt Snook on dobro, and Sharon Porter on standup bass. I expect (as usual) no miracles—but I do expect the publisher to know who I am.
I talked to the Bay City Arts Center about being their executive director; their executive director is moving, but I also saw their financials—they don’t have the money to hire a replacement. They appear to be doing okay (thus far) without an executive director; it takes a lot of volunteer labor, but they’re managing, so I didn’t want to press too hard for a job that isn’t going to pay anything (because they no longer have any money). The BCAC did get a fair amount of grant money last year, and probably most of that is renewable if they want to press for it, and they may not need me to do that. I did point out to ‘em that the “Joe Wrabek concert” the band and I did for them last year generated enough money to warrant its own line item on their balance sheet. It would be fun to do that again.
Jim Nelson, who has run the Arts Center’s infrequent open mikes, wants to do one every month now, but wants to clone himself—training other people to be hosts, like “Little Thom” did at the Wild Goose in Ashland. I volunteered to be one of Jim’s clone-trainees; I’ll learn how to run a sound system, and also a video camera (they’re going to videotape the open mikes, too). They’ll have a film class later in the spring which I’d like to take if it’s not too expensive.
Sent “Take-Out Food” off to the MerleFest’s Chris Austin Songwriting Contest; I’ll send them “Un-Easy Street” if John can get the professional recording finished in time, but if not, I’ll send one that has been professionally recorded—either “Duct Tape” or “Bluebird on My Windshield,” I think. Both are off the last album, recorded at Listen Studios in La Grande. Like most songwriting contests, this one has rules that say any kind of recording is okay, but their first “filter” is a bunch of industry professionals in Nashville, and I expect they’ll pan anything that’s not professionally done. No matter what the rules say, presentation counts for a lot.
Joe
It would be possible—and I suggested it—to do “The Tempest” as Rock Opera, rather than using the conventional Elizabethan-music soundtrack; so many classic rock songs would be appropriate for this play (the authors of the songs may in fact have stolen some of their lines from ol’ Bill, who was dead and didn’t care)—in the chase scene, for instance, with the conjured-up wolves, why couldn’t one play “Who Let the Dogs Out?” as the evildoers flounder about on (and eventually off) stage?
It would be fun. (It’s also unlikely to happen.) They may, however, take my suggestion of having the cast take their final bows to the strains of The Monkees’ “I’m a Believer”; it has that classic line (perfect for this play), “I thought love was only true in fairy tales…”
Another call from the music publisher in California to her mailing list, this time for a “funny, funny” song; that one sounded like it was directed at me—most of my material is humorous. She only wanted one submission, though, and it was hard to choose, even given the parameters (radio-ready master available, and not published elsewhere)—9 of the 11 songs on the “Santa’s Fallen” CD would work, for instance, and I have more besides that. I ended up sending the classic: “I’m Giving Mom a Dead Dog for Christmas,” with Anna Snook on fiddle, Matt Snook on dobro, and Sharon Porter on standup bass. I expect (as usual) no miracles—but I do expect the publisher to know who I am.
I talked to the Bay City Arts Center about being their executive director; their executive director is moving, but I also saw their financials—they don’t have the money to hire a replacement. They appear to be doing okay (thus far) without an executive director; it takes a lot of volunteer labor, but they’re managing, so I didn’t want to press too hard for a job that isn’t going to pay anything (because they no longer have any money). The BCAC did get a fair amount of grant money last year, and probably most of that is renewable if they want to press for it, and they may not need me to do that. I did point out to ‘em that the “Joe Wrabek concert” the band and I did for them last year generated enough money to warrant its own line item on their balance sheet. It would be fun to do that again.
Jim Nelson, who has run the Arts Center’s infrequent open mikes, wants to do one every month now, but wants to clone himself—training other people to be hosts, like “Little Thom” did at the Wild Goose in Ashland. I volunteered to be one of Jim’s clone-trainees; I’ll learn how to run a sound system, and also a video camera (they’re going to videotape the open mikes, too). They’ll have a film class later in the spring which I’d like to take if it’s not too expensive.
Sent “Take-Out Food” off to the MerleFest’s Chris Austin Songwriting Contest; I’ll send them “Un-Easy Street” if John can get the professional recording finished in time, but if not, I’ll send one that has been professionally recorded—either “Duct Tape” or “Bluebird on My Windshield,” I think. Both are off the last album, recorded at Listen Studios in La Grande. Like most songwriting contests, this one has rules that say any kind of recording is okay, but their first “filter” is a bunch of industry professionals in Nashville, and I expect they’ll pan anything that’s not professionally done. No matter what the rules say, presentation counts for a lot.
Joe
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