Bay City Arts Center’s auction/dinner is over. 61 people for the dinner—biggest crowd ever, I understand—and 80 came for the documentary movie (ditto). A number of people who came said they did so because of my front-page article in the paper (nice to know the paper did that). I spent most of my time designing the graphics for everything, and fighting with the printer. (I finally figured out the problem wasn’t the printer: it was because my Sotheby’s-style auction brochure was so huge—the Arts Center’s 1999-vintage PC did not have enough RAM to handle it. I think I can get the extra RAM locally.)
And for me? One of my apparent fans got the Deathgrass CD for $5.00 and another one won the Joe Concert for $25.00. Both were happy. (I told them they should be. They got a real good deal.)
I decided I might as well immortalize this Christmas’ search for a dreidel (the Jewish Hanukkah top) in song. The search was unsuccessful—and long—but I did get to go some different places and meet different people in the process. Ultimately I was told by a Presumably Knowledgeable Person that there appeared to be a Dreidel Shortage and I should dust off my woodworking skills and make my own, because that was the only way I was going to get one. (They are pretty simple to make, though I haven’t tried it. At this point, I have a whole ‘nother year before I may need one again.)
Yes, there is probably a song in it (one without any dead things, even). It already has a chorus, thanks to Wednesday night’s long and harrowing trip back from Portland. I had wanted to write a Jewish folk tune, anyway, because it is fascinating music—happy dance music in a minor key?—and the unsuccessful search for a dreidel by a Gentile boy is probably an appropriate subject for a Jewish folk song. At this point, though, my chorus is traditional bluegrass music (I haven’t steeped myself enough yet in the folk melodies), and in fact the melody my chorus has is one I’ve already used in another song. That will have to change. Every song must be different.
I suppose that’s a niche market—but I’m not after a market in this instance so much as I’m trying an experiment. When I wrote “Last Song of the Highwayman” last year, I was deliberately trying to master the medieval ballad. I’m after a similar result in this case. I want to master the Jewish folk song. In one take, of course.
And for next Christmas… I learned this year (in the course of collecting Christmas trivia for the Netarts show) that the 19th-century Christmas carol “Silent Night” was originally written as a JIG. That’s pretty fast-moving music, there—that song would rock. Reportedly when it was first played in public, the younger church-goers really liked it, and the old folks hated it, and this may have been why. These days, of course, it’s done as a very slow waltz—no doubt to pacify those old folks, who are the majority of church-goers.
Envision a music video, with “Silent Night” played the way it’s supposed to be played. We’d set it in one of those Live Nativity Scenes, with the Happy Couple, the Famous Baby, some animals (we will need sheep), and a couple of shepherds. The shepherds pull out instruments—a banjo and trumpet—and another hauls in a standup bass, and they play one verse of “Silent Night” the slow, waltzy way. And then the bass player launches into the jig. First lead by the trumpet (I do know a trumpet player). The Wise Man drift in with electric instruments (guitar, fiddle and keyboard) and a drum set appears (hey, it’s Christmas—magical things happen); second lead is by the keyboard player, or maybe the fiddle, or both. By the end, we’ve got Mary and Joseph dancing a jig with each other and with shepherds and angels, the sheep doing backup vocals (sheep baa in A, I found), and Baby Jesus’ halo flashing in time to the music. It’d be tons of fun to do.
Joe
Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, December 29, 2011
TONIC LOUNGE POST-MORTEM (&C.)...
Tonic Lounge show was really good. The place was packed (not because of me, but it’s nice to play to a packed house) and the audience was very appreciative. The other comics were good, too—a couple of them really good. I got paid, and sold a CD—neither of which I expected. For once, one of my gig trips to Portland actually paid for itself (or would have if I hadn’t had to drive 50 miles and 1-1/2 hours out of my way because the highway home was closed b an accident). Got to throw my “Another Thong from Joe” thongs out to the audience, too—yes, I’m a thong-writer—and found they didn’t throw very far (next time I’ll put little weights in them).
The audience appeared to like “The Abomination Two-Step” best, followed by “Dead Things in the Shower.” But really, all the songs were good.
I tried to listen to the winning songs in the contests I entered in 2011 (one should know what other people think is good), but most of those aren’t available yet (and when they are, one will probably have to pay to listen to them). The exception was the one that won the Angler’s Mail contest in England, “We’re Going Fishing.” Yes, it’s a happy, upbeat song—quite listenable, in fact—and the sentiments are nicely positive, unlike “Dead Fishes,” the one I’d sent them. Mine was upbeat, all right, but hardly happy.
Two points that hit home—one important, the other less so. “We’re Going Fishing” had a video. No, Angler’s Mail hadn’t asked for a video, but they got one from these folks, and that video went right to YouTube. Of course YouTube is free but it’s additional great exposure for both the song and the magazine. I can see why Angler’s Mail would pick a song that had a video over one that didn’t. (The video is quite well done, too: a nice, seamless mix of still shots, video, and computer-generated graphics. I want to try some of those tricks myself.) DJ Len Amsterdam’s mantra, again: “Video is the new audio.”
The other thing the writers did that I’m sure gave them a leg up is they mentioned Angler’s Mail in the song. (The video showed the Angler’s Mail logo a few times, too.) If I were the folks at Angler’s Mail picking the winning song, that sure would have got my attention. I couldn’t be that blatant myself, but there is an important lesson there: know your market. The people who wrote “We’re Going Fishing” definitely did.
Would this affect what I write? I don’t think so. I’m not exactly pandering to a commercial market; I’m simply expressing ideas, and hoping they’re understood and appreciated. Yes, I’d like the commercial market to appreciate them, too. The latter consideration might affect what I submit to contests in the future, though. I will do a better job of knowing my market—and if I don’t think I can supply what it wants, I won’t waste my time. The former consideration just reinforces my desire to get everything on video.
“Base” tracks are recorded for “Spend the End of the World with Me” (and the song is only a little over three minutes even with a lead break—this is definitely a shortie). “Lazarus” the laptop got Audacity in the process (along with the occasionally hard to find *.mp3 converter) because the Tascam still has Volume Issues. Next: Jane’s fiddle lead—I’m not sure the song is going to need anything else—and then the video.
Joe
The audience appeared to like “The Abomination Two-Step” best, followed by “Dead Things in the Shower.” But really, all the songs were good.
I tried to listen to the winning songs in the contests I entered in 2011 (one should know what other people think is good), but most of those aren’t available yet (and when they are, one will probably have to pay to listen to them). The exception was the one that won the Angler’s Mail contest in England, “We’re Going Fishing.” Yes, it’s a happy, upbeat song—quite listenable, in fact—and the sentiments are nicely positive, unlike “Dead Fishes,” the one I’d sent them. Mine was upbeat, all right, but hardly happy.
Two points that hit home—one important, the other less so. “We’re Going Fishing” had a video. No, Angler’s Mail hadn’t asked for a video, but they got one from these folks, and that video went right to YouTube. Of course YouTube is free but it’s additional great exposure for both the song and the magazine. I can see why Angler’s Mail would pick a song that had a video over one that didn’t. (The video is quite well done, too: a nice, seamless mix of still shots, video, and computer-generated graphics. I want to try some of those tricks myself.) DJ Len Amsterdam’s mantra, again: “Video is the new audio.”
The other thing the writers did that I’m sure gave them a leg up is they mentioned Angler’s Mail in the song. (The video showed the Angler’s Mail logo a few times, too.) If I were the folks at Angler’s Mail picking the winning song, that sure would have got my attention. I couldn’t be that blatant myself, but there is an important lesson there: know your market. The people who wrote “We’re Going Fishing” definitely did.
Would this affect what I write? I don’t think so. I’m not exactly pandering to a commercial market; I’m simply expressing ideas, and hoping they’re understood and appreciated. Yes, I’d like the commercial market to appreciate them, too. The latter consideration might affect what I submit to contests in the future, though. I will do a better job of knowing my market—and if I don’t think I can supply what it wants, I won’t waste my time. The former consideration just reinforces my desire to get everything on video.
“Base” tracks are recorded for “Spend the End of the World with Me” (and the song is only a little over three minutes even with a lead break—this is definitely a shortie). “Lazarus” the laptop got Audacity in the process (along with the occasionally hard to find *.mp3 converter) because the Tascam still has Volume Issues. Next: Jane’s fiddle lead—I’m not sure the song is going to need anything else—and then the video.
Joe
Monday, December 26, 2011
CHRISTMAS LAST?
On Christmas Day, one should talk about Christmas, right? Nah. Everybody else is doing that. Here are some random music-related thoughts instead.
It was exciting to have “Spend the End of the World with Me” written in just a couple of days—made me feel I hadn’t lost my touch. It’s been performed, too, before a live audience, and they liked it. I’m accordingly hot to get it recorded and videoed, so I’ll feel comfortable about going on to something else.
Recording will be done on the Tascam; I can’t afford to professionally record everything, especially the stuff I’m pretty sure isn’t going anywhere. The “base” tracks I’ll do as usual, with me playing rhythm and a simple lead, and singing, then mixing that down and re-posting it as two tracks on the Tascam—leaving me two tracks for recording the other people (if they’re willing) doing the fancy stuff. I believe I have the ability now to record two instruments simultaneously, using the mixer for the inputs (I have a splitter I can use to rig up two sets of headphones); that’d be fun to try.
I could record the video for the song all in one location, I think, if I could get all the props together. I had assembled a list of desired props to hunt for—and then realized I either have or can find substitutes for all of them. I don’t even have to do “location” shooting of the band: I can use still shots of them, too. It would be nice to have somebody else to run the camera, though, for some of the shots—like the one where I toss a thrift-store globe through a basketball hoop and let it smash on the ground. (Still do need the thrift-store globe, and to borrow the use of someone’s basketball hoop for the occasion—but I have a work-around for that, too, if it doesn’t happen.)
Two more performances coming up. Wednesday, Dec. 28, I’ll be part of Whitney Streed’s “Weekly Recurring Humor Night” at the Tonic Lounge in Portland, and Saturday, Jan. 21, the Hoffman Center in Manzanita is having another talent show. Jane and I will do “The Abomination Two-Step” at the Hoffman, I think—some folks have actually requested it. Whitney’s people in Portland will get “Can I Have Your Car When the Rapture Comes?” plus “Dead Things in the Shower,” “The Abomination Two-Step,” and “Pole Dancing for Jesus.” Having “Dead Things” on the list will allow me to promote the Deathgrass album.
Spent Christmas Eve doing an application for a city-manager job I’m sure I’m not going to get. I got fed up enough with the headhunting outfit recruiting for the job to use my cover letter as an opportunity to lecture them, and the city that hired them, about what they’re doing. It’s too bad there are two days before I can put the stuff in the mail, because I keep having second thoughts about it. Am I burning bridges if I do this? Then again, the city in question has made it clear they don’t want to hire me anyway, and the headhunter outfit hasn’t called me for an interview in 18 years—ever, in fact. I’m not sure any bridges exist, even if I did want to burn them.
It would be fun to put together an album of end-of-the-world songs; I’d be real curious what other writer’s “take” is on Armageddon. (We’d need to have it out to market early, just in case.) The End of Everything has been predicted before—a lot, in fact—and it hasn’t happened yet, and it might not happen this December 21, either. But one of these times, the predictors are going to be right. Given those circumstances, what kind of advice would writers be giving people? What kind of advice should we give?
Joe
It was exciting to have “Spend the End of the World with Me” written in just a couple of days—made me feel I hadn’t lost my touch. It’s been performed, too, before a live audience, and they liked it. I’m accordingly hot to get it recorded and videoed, so I’ll feel comfortable about going on to something else.
Recording will be done on the Tascam; I can’t afford to professionally record everything, especially the stuff I’m pretty sure isn’t going anywhere. The “base” tracks I’ll do as usual, with me playing rhythm and a simple lead, and singing, then mixing that down and re-posting it as two tracks on the Tascam—leaving me two tracks for recording the other people (if they’re willing) doing the fancy stuff. I believe I have the ability now to record two instruments simultaneously, using the mixer for the inputs (I have a splitter I can use to rig up two sets of headphones); that’d be fun to try.
I could record the video for the song all in one location, I think, if I could get all the props together. I had assembled a list of desired props to hunt for—and then realized I either have or can find substitutes for all of them. I don’t even have to do “location” shooting of the band: I can use still shots of them, too. It would be nice to have somebody else to run the camera, though, for some of the shots—like the one where I toss a thrift-store globe through a basketball hoop and let it smash on the ground. (Still do need the thrift-store globe, and to borrow the use of someone’s basketball hoop for the occasion—but I have a work-around for that, too, if it doesn’t happen.)
Two more performances coming up. Wednesday, Dec. 28, I’ll be part of Whitney Streed’s “Weekly Recurring Humor Night” at the Tonic Lounge in Portland, and Saturday, Jan. 21, the Hoffman Center in Manzanita is having another talent show. Jane and I will do “The Abomination Two-Step” at the Hoffman, I think—some folks have actually requested it. Whitney’s people in Portland will get “Can I Have Your Car When the Rapture Comes?” plus “Dead Things in the Shower,” “The Abomination Two-Step,” and “Pole Dancing for Jesus.” Having “Dead Things” on the list will allow me to promote the Deathgrass album.
Spent Christmas Eve doing an application for a city-manager job I’m sure I’m not going to get. I got fed up enough with the headhunting outfit recruiting for the job to use my cover letter as an opportunity to lecture them, and the city that hired them, about what they’re doing. It’s too bad there are two days before I can put the stuff in the mail, because I keep having second thoughts about it. Am I burning bridges if I do this? Then again, the city in question has made it clear they don’t want to hire me anyway, and the headhunter outfit hasn’t called me for an interview in 18 years—ever, in fact. I’m not sure any bridges exist, even if I did want to burn them.
It would be fun to put together an album of end-of-the-world songs; I’d be real curious what other writer’s “take” is on Armageddon. (We’d need to have it out to market early, just in case.) The End of Everything has been predicted before—a lot, in fact—and it hasn’t happened yet, and it might not happen this December 21, either. But one of these times, the predictors are going to be right. Given those circumstances, what kind of advice would writers be giving people? What kind of advice should we give?
Joe
Friday, December 23, 2011
"SPEND THE END OF THE WORLD WITH ME"...
Christmas shopping done, I think—and the “Spend the End of the World with Me” song is done, too. It’s undergoing peer review, and then I’ll essay recording it. Played it at Garibaldi City Hall, and the audience did like it so I guess it’s a “keeper.” Ragtime, definitely; I couldn’t make it come out jazz with me playing guitar but ragtime is kinda close.
It’s only got one verse and a chorus; it’d be nice to have more, but those two things really do sum it up, and saying anything else would be superfluous. And I refuse to be superfluous. Wrabek’s Rule One is make it a complete thought—someone should be able to say, “Well, I guess that’s all that needs to be said about that.” And I think I have a complete thought here, even though it’s simple and primal (of the “Hey, the world’s ending, honey—let’s go to bed” variety).
What do I think makes people like it? (I rarely ask directly.) I think because it’s a happy, bouncy song about a dark and serious issue—the world ending next December. Not that it’s happy about that happening per se but that it finds an aspect of it to be light-hearted about. I do enjoy playing against type.
I need to ask—I think I’ll ask it of all songs from now on—“How would I turn this into video?” I want apocalyptic imagery, I think—but I don’t have the technology or the money to create it on my own. I can think of two possible ways to go. I could do still shots of end-of-the-world paintings by Brueghel (et al.) mixed with news articles announcing the Dec. 21 apocalypse, and maybe live footage of me and other musicians playing; that’d be easiest. Alternatively, I could mimic what Bob Dylan did in his early video of “Subterranean Homesick Blues” (and two British guys did in “I Saw It in the Daily Mail”), and film me (or someone) displaying, and then tossing away, those images while the soundtrack plays. That’d take help—but I’m supposed to be asking for help.
For the soundtrack, I would ideally want a manic fiddle for the “whiny” lead and a honky-tonk piano for the “non-whiny” lead. I do know people who can do those. I’ll record a “base” track first so I can shop it around. (And of course, it may not turn out that way. Like Mick Jagger said, “You can’t always get what you want…”)
I have results from all three of the concerts I entered in 2011. Only the Songwriters Association of Washington sent me an e-mail telling me judging was over, and I wasn’t the one who won—I had to go to the other outfits’ Websites to find the results. No, I didn’t win any of the contests. Goodnight Kiss Music said “No Good Songs About the War” was “close” to being in the Top Ten, which is nice (however, the Top Three are the ones who get the good stuff), and Angler’s Mail magazine over in England said they hadn’t picked their #2 and #3 songs yet, just the #1 (which wasn’t me). I guess that means “Dead Fishes” is still in the running, but I won’t hold my breath.
Played Electric Banjo at the Tsunami; hadn’t intended to play it as much as I did, but there were way too many guitarists there, and all of them better’n me. I did have to amplify the thing in order to be heard at all. Got to experiment with some of the effects on the little guitar amp, too. Since the banjo as a species does not have a lot of sustain, I have to play it faster, so I’m fitting more notes into the dead spaces; I do more hammering-on and pulling-off as well (lazy way to get more extra notes). And what I do on the banjo is transferable to the guitar, and vice versa.
With the Christmas holiday upon us, the next time I actually get to play music is The Gig, next Wednesday at the Tonic Lounge in Portland. Lots to do before then.
Joe
It’s only got one verse and a chorus; it’d be nice to have more, but those two things really do sum it up, and saying anything else would be superfluous. And I refuse to be superfluous. Wrabek’s Rule One is make it a complete thought—someone should be able to say, “Well, I guess that’s all that needs to be said about that.” And I think I have a complete thought here, even though it’s simple and primal (of the “Hey, the world’s ending, honey—let’s go to bed” variety).
What do I think makes people like it? (I rarely ask directly.) I think because it’s a happy, bouncy song about a dark and serious issue—the world ending next December. Not that it’s happy about that happening per se but that it finds an aspect of it to be light-hearted about. I do enjoy playing against type.
I need to ask—I think I’ll ask it of all songs from now on—“How would I turn this into video?” I want apocalyptic imagery, I think—but I don’t have the technology or the money to create it on my own. I can think of two possible ways to go. I could do still shots of end-of-the-world paintings by Brueghel (et al.) mixed with news articles announcing the Dec. 21 apocalypse, and maybe live footage of me and other musicians playing; that’d be easiest. Alternatively, I could mimic what Bob Dylan did in his early video of “Subterranean Homesick Blues” (and two British guys did in “I Saw It in the Daily Mail”), and film me (or someone) displaying, and then tossing away, those images while the soundtrack plays. That’d take help—but I’m supposed to be asking for help.
For the soundtrack, I would ideally want a manic fiddle for the “whiny” lead and a honky-tonk piano for the “non-whiny” lead. I do know people who can do those. I’ll record a “base” track first so I can shop it around. (And of course, it may not turn out that way. Like Mick Jagger said, “You can’t always get what you want…”)
I have results from all three of the concerts I entered in 2011. Only the Songwriters Association of Washington sent me an e-mail telling me judging was over, and I wasn’t the one who won—I had to go to the other outfits’ Websites to find the results. No, I didn’t win any of the contests. Goodnight Kiss Music said “No Good Songs About the War” was “close” to being in the Top Ten, which is nice (however, the Top Three are the ones who get the good stuff), and Angler’s Mail magazine over in England said they hadn’t picked their #2 and #3 songs yet, just the #1 (which wasn’t me). I guess that means “Dead Fishes” is still in the running, but I won’t hold my breath.
Played Electric Banjo at the Tsunami; hadn’t intended to play it as much as I did, but there were way too many guitarists there, and all of them better’n me. I did have to amplify the thing in order to be heard at all. Got to experiment with some of the effects on the little guitar amp, too. Since the banjo as a species does not have a lot of sustain, I have to play it faster, so I’m fitting more notes into the dead spaces; I do more hammering-on and pulling-off as well (lazy way to get more extra notes). And what I do on the banjo is transferable to the guitar, and vice versa.
With the Christmas holiday upon us, the next time I actually get to play music is The Gig, next Wednesday at the Tonic Lounge in Portland. Lots to do before then.
Joe
Thursday, December 22, 2011
RECORDING/VIDEOINGT "QUOTH, THE PARROT"...
2012 is an election year. A big one. We’ll either re-elect or depose a President, and if the latter, replace him with someone who may or may not be crazy. We’ll be deciding whether to re-elect or depose most of Congress, too. And state legislatures. And city councils all over the country. And people aren’t all that happy with the government they’ve been getting. Might be an opportunity to get attention for a political song.
Specifically, “The Strange Saga of Quoth, the Parrot.” Written just a couple of days before the November 2008 election, it never had the chance to get any attention. But there’s plenty of time for that now. And all of the problems that existed then are still around, and the parrot’s “screw them all” message perhaps even more relevant than it was four years ago.
The rendition I’ve got was done on the Tascam, with me playing all parts, and is far from perfect. (Link is http://www.soundclick.com/share?songid=7021485.) It’s cute (I’ve shared it repeatedly on Facebook), but is far from “radio-ready.” If I wanted to explore the song’s commercial potential, I’d want to re-record it commercially with a real band. I’ve noted previously this would be an easy song to convert to video.
I’ve got other songs, too, particularly with an economic cast. After two years of doing Failed Economy Shows, Deathgrass has quite a repertoire. We could easily do an entire album of Failed Economy songs.
But “Quoth” is the really political one. It’d be nice to have that one out on the market, being played by radio stations and going viral on YouTube, before too many primaries take place.
How to do that? Well, I have a few options for the recording. Mike Simpson’s Calden West Studios, if he’s got his stuff set up in his new space; the home studio Sara and Wayne (Ocean Bottom Blues Band) have been building; Sedona and Michael’s setup in the Rapture Room (though I want to hear their CD first); or we could set things up at the Bay City Arts Center (where they’ve got a 15-channel mixing board) and I could try to do it there, with help from some people who “have ears.” Nice thing about Mike’s is he’s a known quantity, and very, very good. Nice thing about the Arts Center is we could easily video the song being played at the same time we were recording. I do want to do video.
And the video? I scripted that out a while ago. We start on the beach, probably at Rockaway (where we’re likely to find a pile of driftwood); some beach footage of me, lip-synching, and some footage just of the beach, without me. The lead break—after the second verse—is where we do the credits, and where I’ll want closeups of the band members as well as footage of the band as a whole, playing. Verse three, where me and the parrot go bar-hopping, can be shot entirely in front of the Ghost Hole tavern in Garibaldi. It’d be fun to get some inside footage too, but not essential. (Many things are not essential, just fun.) In the fourth and final verse we’re back to the beach—with maybe some footage in a cemetery, too (I’d scout the cemeteries in Tillamook, Hebo and Bayside Gardens for a “scenic” location). Yes, I’d want assistance with all this. And one of the 2012 Worklist items is to involve other people as much as possible.
A parrot? I’d love to feature a parrot in the video. “The Strange Saga of Quoth, the Parrot” is about a parrot, after all. (Having a parrot in the film is not essential, however—but it’d be a lot of fun.) Since baby sister moved out of Beaverton, some years back, I haven’t known anyone with a parrot that flies around the house, perching randomly on things and people. I’d like to meet one (and film one). If anyone within earshot (or eyeshot) has one or knows one, let me know. I could make the bird a star of the 2012 election…
Joe
Specifically, “The Strange Saga of Quoth, the Parrot.” Written just a couple of days before the November 2008 election, it never had the chance to get any attention. But there’s plenty of time for that now. And all of the problems that existed then are still around, and the parrot’s “screw them all” message perhaps even more relevant than it was four years ago.
The rendition I’ve got was done on the Tascam, with me playing all parts, and is far from perfect. (Link is http://www.soundclick.com/share?songid=7021485.) It’s cute (I’ve shared it repeatedly on Facebook), but is far from “radio-ready.” If I wanted to explore the song’s commercial potential, I’d want to re-record it commercially with a real band. I’ve noted previously this would be an easy song to convert to video.
I’ve got other songs, too, particularly with an economic cast. After two years of doing Failed Economy Shows, Deathgrass has quite a repertoire. We could easily do an entire album of Failed Economy songs.
But “Quoth” is the really political one. It’d be nice to have that one out on the market, being played by radio stations and going viral on YouTube, before too many primaries take place.
How to do that? Well, I have a few options for the recording. Mike Simpson’s Calden West Studios, if he’s got his stuff set up in his new space; the home studio Sara and Wayne (Ocean Bottom Blues Band) have been building; Sedona and Michael’s setup in the Rapture Room (though I want to hear their CD first); or we could set things up at the Bay City Arts Center (where they’ve got a 15-channel mixing board) and I could try to do it there, with help from some people who “have ears.” Nice thing about Mike’s is he’s a known quantity, and very, very good. Nice thing about the Arts Center is we could easily video the song being played at the same time we were recording. I do want to do video.
And the video? I scripted that out a while ago. We start on the beach, probably at Rockaway (where we’re likely to find a pile of driftwood); some beach footage of me, lip-synching, and some footage just of the beach, without me. The lead break—after the second verse—is where we do the credits, and where I’ll want closeups of the band members as well as footage of the band as a whole, playing. Verse three, where me and the parrot go bar-hopping, can be shot entirely in front of the Ghost Hole tavern in Garibaldi. It’d be fun to get some inside footage too, but not essential. (Many things are not essential, just fun.) In the fourth and final verse we’re back to the beach—with maybe some footage in a cemetery, too (I’d scout the cemeteries in Tillamook, Hebo and Bayside Gardens for a “scenic” location). Yes, I’d want assistance with all this. And one of the 2012 Worklist items is to involve other people as much as possible.
A parrot? I’d love to feature a parrot in the video. “The Strange Saga of Quoth, the Parrot” is about a parrot, after all. (Having a parrot in the film is not essential, however—but it’d be a lot of fun.) Since baby sister moved out of Beaverton, some years back, I haven’t known anyone with a parrot that flies around the house, perching randomly on things and people. I’d like to meet one (and film one). If anyone within earshot (or eyeshot) has one or knows one, let me know. I could make the bird a star of the 2012 election…
Joe
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
THE 2012 WORKLIST...
I think it’s time to try a different tack with this Music Biz thing. 2011 was supposed to be the Year of Promotion, and looking back, I don’t see a lot of progress as a result. Continuing to do the Same Old Thing while expecting different results is the classic definition of insanity; I would rather do something different and hope (more sanely) for different results.
Some advice I gave Michael and Sedona when they were doing the first Sedona Fire album (just released, by the way, and I want a copy—it’ll be the first new record I’ve bought since 2008) was do short runs. Sell what you’ve got, and then do another record. If you’re dealing with a small fan base, supply it, and supply it frequently. I believe I will take my own advice.
So how does that affect the 2012 Worklist?
ALBUM, first. It means I put out another album in 2012. I have a big backlog of material; I have come out with an album’s worth of album-able stuff nearly every year since 2006. While the shortage of money is definitely an issue, I do have production costs down to a minimum level. It won’t cost that much. And I can ask the Fan Base which songs I should put on the album. Yes, I’ll keep working on the all-videos Southern Pigfish album, too. It’s got a ways to go.
GIGS. About half with the band, half solo, just as in 2011. The “closer in” focus doesn’t change what I do, here; it does get me playing out more. Every place I’ve played I should play again, and I will add as many new venues as I have old ones. What doors can people in the Fan Base get me in?
VIDEO. I learned a lot in 2011; in 2012, I can apply what I know and learn more. Every song I have should be turned into music video, and every video should be different. Do videos of some co-writes, too. Again, enlist people—as actors, as filmers, and as musicians. A live concert video of some of the performances at the 2012 Relay for Life, too.
PRODUCE SOMEBODY ELSE. That’s a new one. I know how to do it, and I can do a lot of the pieces myself and where I can’t, I know where to get them done at minimal cost. I’ve done it for myself; the next step is to do it for somebody (or somebodies) else. Who? Somebody who has a following and wants a bigger one, I think—and I do know a few of those; since I don’t have the marketing connections (yet), I have to consider any CD I produce primarily useful for promotional purposes—their promotional purposes, in this case.
INFRASTRUCTURE. I’m getting there—I might have a little PA system now, and I’ve got a computer that can burn DVDs and a good video camera. In 2012, I’ll do the Website (finally), get Skype on the home computer, learn how to do podcasts and streaming video.
THE WORLD TOUR. Still a ways away, but I’ll keep working on it. If I had the money—which I don’t, right now—I’d be on the horn (whatever form “the horn” takes) to the people I know in England, Sweden, et al., saying, “I’m coming—what can we set up?” I want to perform in Mongolia because no one I know has ever done so, and I’d like to meet those 61-plus people in Latvia who are reading the blog.
What’s left from 2011? Marketing? Household word? Staying in touch? Let’s put all that together and call it LINKS. All the people I know, and all the things I do and can do, are connected (and connectable) and can feed off each other. Couple that with the BIG FISH, SMALL POND mantra. Supply the Fan Base, rather than trying to expand it. Let it grow on its own.
And WRITING, of course. The previous standards still apply: I want on average one good song a month, and one good co-write a month; I’ll keep trying new genres (I need to try jazz this year), and expand the writing itself into other forms. What can I do besides plays? Is it time for that country-music opera?
Happy upcoming 2012, everybody. It’s supposed to be a short year, with the world scheduled to end on December 21. I’m sure there’s a song in it…
Joe
Some advice I gave Michael and Sedona when they were doing the first Sedona Fire album (just released, by the way, and I want a copy—it’ll be the first new record I’ve bought since 2008) was do short runs. Sell what you’ve got, and then do another record. If you’re dealing with a small fan base, supply it, and supply it frequently. I believe I will take my own advice.
So how does that affect the 2012 Worklist?
ALBUM, first. It means I put out another album in 2012. I have a big backlog of material; I have come out with an album’s worth of album-able stuff nearly every year since 2006. While the shortage of money is definitely an issue, I do have production costs down to a minimum level. It won’t cost that much. And I can ask the Fan Base which songs I should put on the album. Yes, I’ll keep working on the all-videos Southern Pigfish album, too. It’s got a ways to go.
GIGS. About half with the band, half solo, just as in 2011. The “closer in” focus doesn’t change what I do, here; it does get me playing out more. Every place I’ve played I should play again, and I will add as many new venues as I have old ones. What doors can people in the Fan Base get me in?
VIDEO. I learned a lot in 2011; in 2012, I can apply what I know and learn more. Every song I have should be turned into music video, and every video should be different. Do videos of some co-writes, too. Again, enlist people—as actors, as filmers, and as musicians. A live concert video of some of the performances at the 2012 Relay for Life, too.
PRODUCE SOMEBODY ELSE. That’s a new one. I know how to do it, and I can do a lot of the pieces myself and where I can’t, I know where to get them done at minimal cost. I’ve done it for myself; the next step is to do it for somebody (or somebodies) else. Who? Somebody who has a following and wants a bigger one, I think—and I do know a few of those; since I don’t have the marketing connections (yet), I have to consider any CD I produce primarily useful for promotional purposes—their promotional purposes, in this case.
INFRASTRUCTURE. I’m getting there—I might have a little PA system now, and I’ve got a computer that can burn DVDs and a good video camera. In 2012, I’ll do the Website (finally), get Skype on the home computer, learn how to do podcasts and streaming video.
THE WORLD TOUR. Still a ways away, but I’ll keep working on it. If I had the money—which I don’t, right now—I’d be on the horn (whatever form “the horn” takes) to the people I know in England, Sweden, et al., saying, “I’m coming—what can we set up?” I want to perform in Mongolia because no one I know has ever done so, and I’d like to meet those 61-plus people in Latvia who are reading the blog.
What’s left from 2011? Marketing? Household word? Staying in touch? Let’s put all that together and call it LINKS. All the people I know, and all the things I do and can do, are connected (and connectable) and can feed off each other. Couple that with the BIG FISH, SMALL POND mantra. Supply the Fan Base, rather than trying to expand it. Let it grow on its own.
And WRITING, of course. The previous standards still apply: I want on average one good song a month, and one good co-write a month; I’ll keep trying new genres (I need to try jazz this year), and expand the writing itself into other forms. What can I do besides plays? Is it time for that country-music opera?
Happy upcoming 2012, everybody. It’s supposed to be a short year, with the world scheduled to end on December 21. I’m sure there’s a song in it…
Joe
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
NETARTS POST-MORTEM...
Netarts Christmas show was good. Audience appeared to enjoy the stuff; there were a few people there who knew me, and a couple who’d heard me play before, but most of the crowd were new. The Netarts Community Club is a small place but it was full. And I got paid! I hadn’t expected that. Tips, too. It was actually the best-paid gig I’ve had this year (which isn’t saying much for this year, I know).
No CD sales from the Netarts show, and no new names for the “joelist”—but there were the tips. Got fed a nice dinner, too. I did encourage the Community Club folks to have me back; whether they do so will indicate whether they really liked the show, or whether they were just being polite. I told them what they were going to get wasn’t exactly normal, and it wasn’t.
The songs that went over best were “Santa’s Fallen and He Can’t Get Up” and the “Welcome to Hebo Waltz.” I think they appreciated “Santa, Baby” less than most of the audiences I’ve played it for—and conversely, they liked “Even Roadkill Gets the Blues” more than most of the audiences I’ve played it for. (I don’t think they knew exactly how to take “Roadkill”—and I’m no help: I don’t know exactly how to take it either.) They sang along with “White Christmas” (of course) and “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” (surprise).
Thursday at the Tsunami in Wheeler and Friday at Garibaldi City Hall will be the last performances of the Christmas songs for another year. I am about ready to do other things. Next Wednesday’s appearance at the Tonic Lounge in Portland, as part of Whitney Streed’s Weekly Recurring Humor Night, will be all non-Christmas songs. ‘Tis the Season Season will be over.
Elsewhere… Got wind of a fellow city manager’s resignation and immediately contacted his mayor about an interim job; I don’t know if I’ll get it, but it was nice to be able to be timely. Two (of four) articles for the paper and my column done timely too. The documentary is done, I understand; I still haven’t seen it but was told instructor Wil Duncan did the soundtrack, and I’m sure it’s good. I’m relieved, on the one hand, that I don’t have to rush composition of a soundtrack just days before the World Premiere of the documentary; on the other, I’m hot to start what they’re calling “Part Two,” because I do want to do a soundtrack and have some ideas for it (and also have some footage that didn’t make it into Part One).
Got given a set of rubber ducks to practice my square dance calls with, and I have a square’s worth (eight) of real dancers willing to let me practice on them, too. Found some “loudspeaker” speakers at a thrift store; they’re small (though maybe that doesn’t matter so much these days), but they will match up to the Radio Shack PA, unlike the ones I’d borrowed. I haven’t tested them yet. If they work I have my PA system, for a total cost of less than $50. I like that. Of course some of the components are more than 50 years old—but so am I.
Joe
No CD sales from the Netarts show, and no new names for the “joelist”—but there were the tips. Got fed a nice dinner, too. I did encourage the Community Club folks to have me back; whether they do so will indicate whether they really liked the show, or whether they were just being polite. I told them what they were going to get wasn’t exactly normal, and it wasn’t.
The songs that went over best were “Santa’s Fallen and He Can’t Get Up” and the “Welcome to Hebo Waltz.” I think they appreciated “Santa, Baby” less than most of the audiences I’ve played it for—and conversely, they liked “Even Roadkill Gets the Blues” more than most of the audiences I’ve played it for. (I don’t think they knew exactly how to take “Roadkill”—and I’m no help: I don’t know exactly how to take it either.) They sang along with “White Christmas” (of course) and “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” (surprise).
Thursday at the Tsunami in Wheeler and Friday at Garibaldi City Hall will be the last performances of the Christmas songs for another year. I am about ready to do other things. Next Wednesday’s appearance at the Tonic Lounge in Portland, as part of Whitney Streed’s Weekly Recurring Humor Night, will be all non-Christmas songs. ‘Tis the Season Season will be over.
Elsewhere… Got wind of a fellow city manager’s resignation and immediately contacted his mayor about an interim job; I don’t know if I’ll get it, but it was nice to be able to be timely. Two (of four) articles for the paper and my column done timely too. The documentary is done, I understand; I still haven’t seen it but was told instructor Wil Duncan did the soundtrack, and I’m sure it’s good. I’m relieved, on the one hand, that I don’t have to rush composition of a soundtrack just days before the World Premiere of the documentary; on the other, I’m hot to start what they’re calling “Part Two,” because I do want to do a soundtrack and have some ideas for it (and also have some footage that didn’t make it into Part One).
Got given a set of rubber ducks to practice my square dance calls with, and I have a square’s worth (eight) of real dancers willing to let me practice on them, too. Found some “loudspeaker” speakers at a thrift store; they’re small (though maybe that doesn’t matter so much these days), but they will match up to the Radio Shack PA, unlike the ones I’d borrowed. I haven’t tested them yet. If they work I have my PA system, for a total cost of less than $50. I like that. Of course some of the components are more than 50 years old—but so am I.
Joe
Friday, December 16, 2011
NETARTS CHRISTMAS SHOW SETLIST...
Finished the setlist for the Netarts Christmas show Dec. 20 (Netarts Community Club, 7 p.m.). They wanted all Christmas songs. They’re going to get:
Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer (Elmo & Patsy Shropshire)—fast pop
White Christmas (Irving Berlin)—slow two-step
Santa’s Fallen and He Can’t Get Up—fast bluegrass
Blue Christmas (Hayes & Johnson)—slow, bluesy two-step
Welcome to Hebo Waltz—fast waltz
Even Roadkill Gets the Blues—slow two-step
Another Crappy Christmas (Don Varnell)—fast pop
Santa, Baby (Javits & Springer)—sleazy jazz
I Want a Man for Christmas—rock ‘n’ roll
I’m Giving Mom a Dead Dog for Christmas—slow & sleazy
Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire—slow jazz (and short)
Five of mine, two co-writes (one with daughter), and four covers (only one of which could be characterized as “normal”). And only one new song I had to learn. The 11 songs should cover 45 minutes—five of them are short since everything will be done without lead breaks (and two of the songs are real short). Let’s say it’s a bit different Christmas show. Hope they like it. There will be at least a few people there that I know.
A few of the songs on the setlist need more practice—and about the only chance I have is at the various jam sessions. Last two I went to I played “I Want a Man for Christmas,” and I’ve done the Don Varnell song twice, too. I went to the Friday night jam in Garibaldi (they got “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” and it came out all right), and I’ll go to the Sunday night one at the Rapture Room.
I also have The Cold, the one everybody else has (so I can’t blame anybody specific for giving it to me), so I have to get my voice in order for Tuesday. At this point, I have a voice perfect for blues but not much else.
Rap is done; poster is done. I’ll take the Ugly Orange Bucket for tips, and CDs to sell. I’ll also make the pitch (in the Rap) for people to bid on the “win Joe for a concert” entry in the Arts Center’s fundraising auction. Like Gene Burnett said in one of his songs, “Gonna find out what you’re worth.” I’d like to find out I’m worth a lot, so I’m trying to stack the deck to help.
Other things to do: I have the basic footage for my “railroad” section of the documentary; need to combine pieces of that with my collection of historic and modern-day photos and a narration I still need to write. I have the soundtrack to write for the documentary. (I’ve heard rumors—unconfirmed—that I’m expected to script and iterate the narration for the documentary, too.) Articles to finish for the paper—one on the upcoming documentary. (Still have one more interview to do for that.) And practice the marimba, and practice my square dance caller routines so I have something to show off at class next Wednesday.
For the home-built PA system, I appear to have the requisite cable to connect the laptop to either the 2-channel amp or the 6-channel mixer. The mixer and amp are also connected, and the speakers appear to be plenty for what I need. I do not have a way to hook the speakers up to the amp—they have different terminals (bare wire clips on the amp, and RCA plugs on the speaker wires). I’ll modify the amp to work, since it’s mine and the speakers are borrowed—but I’m going to need some advice to make sure I do it right.
And one more December show—Wed. Dec. 28, at the Tonic Lounge in Portland. I’ll be part of Whitney Streed’s “Weekly Recurring Humor Night.”
Joe
Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer (Elmo & Patsy Shropshire)—fast pop
White Christmas (Irving Berlin)—slow two-step
Santa’s Fallen and He Can’t Get Up—fast bluegrass
Blue Christmas (Hayes & Johnson)—slow, bluesy two-step
Welcome to Hebo Waltz—fast waltz
Even Roadkill Gets the Blues—slow two-step
Another Crappy Christmas (Don Varnell)—fast pop
Santa, Baby (Javits & Springer)—sleazy jazz
I Want a Man for Christmas—rock ‘n’ roll
I’m Giving Mom a Dead Dog for Christmas—slow & sleazy
Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire—slow jazz (and short)
Five of mine, two co-writes (one with daughter), and four covers (only one of which could be characterized as “normal”). And only one new song I had to learn. The 11 songs should cover 45 minutes—five of them are short since everything will be done without lead breaks (and two of the songs are real short). Let’s say it’s a bit different Christmas show. Hope they like it. There will be at least a few people there that I know.
A few of the songs on the setlist need more practice—and about the only chance I have is at the various jam sessions. Last two I went to I played “I Want a Man for Christmas,” and I’ve done the Don Varnell song twice, too. I went to the Friday night jam in Garibaldi (they got “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” and it came out all right), and I’ll go to the Sunday night one at the Rapture Room.
I also have The Cold, the one everybody else has (so I can’t blame anybody specific for giving it to me), so I have to get my voice in order for Tuesday. At this point, I have a voice perfect for blues but not much else.
Rap is done; poster is done. I’ll take the Ugly Orange Bucket for tips, and CDs to sell. I’ll also make the pitch (in the Rap) for people to bid on the “win Joe for a concert” entry in the Arts Center’s fundraising auction. Like Gene Burnett said in one of his songs, “Gonna find out what you’re worth.” I’d like to find out I’m worth a lot, so I’m trying to stack the deck to help.
Other things to do: I have the basic footage for my “railroad” section of the documentary; need to combine pieces of that with my collection of historic and modern-day photos and a narration I still need to write. I have the soundtrack to write for the documentary. (I’ve heard rumors—unconfirmed—that I’m expected to script and iterate the narration for the documentary, too.) Articles to finish for the paper—one on the upcoming documentary. (Still have one more interview to do for that.) And practice the marimba, and practice my square dance caller routines so I have something to show off at class next Wednesday.
For the home-built PA system, I appear to have the requisite cable to connect the laptop to either the 2-channel amp or the 6-channel mixer. The mixer and amp are also connected, and the speakers appear to be plenty for what I need. I do not have a way to hook the speakers up to the amp—they have different terminals (bare wire clips on the amp, and RCA plugs on the speaker wires). I’ll modify the amp to work, since it’s mine and the speakers are borrowed—but I’m going to need some advice to make sure I do it right.
And one more December show—Wed. Dec. 28, at the Tonic Lounge in Portland. I’ll be part of Whitney Streed’s “Weekly Recurring Humor Night.”
Joe
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
SOUL SEARCHING...
Soul searching (where did I leave that dang thing?)… It appears precisely none of the city-manager jobs I put in for are going to pan out, and I’m told by the experts that shouldn’t surprise me; I’ve been out of the business too long, and the “market” assumes I have forgotten everything I know. I haven’t—but as in songwriting, the market is always right and I have nothing to say about it. I will have to do something else for a living—provided someone is willing to hire me to do something else; I haven’t proven that yet.
This week, though, I’ll try not to worry about it. This is Video Week, time to finish off the “Remembering Tillamook County” documentary. The World Premiere is December 29. Writing and recording the soundtrack is my responsibility. Doable? Of course—but I need to see the whole film first, and that hasn’t happened yet. I have seen pieces of it… What I envision myself doing is recording a base track, basically playing appropriate-sounding chord progressions over the entire length of the film, and then muting the sound when other audio (like interviews or narration) has to take precedence—which will be most of the time. I would like to rope in other musicians to help at strategic points—but that means I have to have my part done early.
Since I like using familiar tools, I anticipate doing all the recording on the Tascam and where I’m dealing with more than four channels, doing the mixing in Audacity. The Arts Center’s Macintoshes have more sophisticated audio software, but I really don’t have time to deal with a learning curve.
There are three “pre-recorded” pieces I want to fit in the film, too. Parts of Deathgrass’ rendition of “Tillamook Railroad Blues” for the opening and closing credits (with train footage and historical train photos for the backdrop). Part of a Kid Siegal song about hunting and fishing, that Charlie recorded at the Wheeler Summerfest. And Native American dance music for the about-the-Indians section (a large part of the funding for the documentary came from a Native American foundation).
Along with the premiere of the documentary, the Arts Center’s having an auction, and of course there’s a Deathgrass CD in among the goodies to be auctioned off. Some folks have offered services, too, from fishing trips to vacation rentals, and I’ve added me to that list, too. “Win me” in the auction and Joe will come perform an hour-long solo concert at your home or business or other place of your choice (I drew the line at “outside in the rain,” though). I wonder whether anyone would be interested in something like that? Every now and then, I get impressions I might have at least some people out there who think having me perform somewhere might draw people in instead of drive them away—and I pointedly do not discourage them. Might be a plus to do this; it’s not like I’m getting many paying gigs places—heck, I’m not getting unpaid ones, either. It could stimulate the market to do more of this.
Late-breaking news: I got tapped to do a Cristmas show at the Netarts Community Club next Tuesday (Dec. 20). They want all Christmas songs—and that means I’ll need to learn some more; besides my six (not all of which are good inclusions for a Christmas show), I can do good renditions of “Blue Christmas,” “White Christmas,” and (of course) “Santa, Baby.” They’d probably like some more traditional stuff. With the deliberate intent of doing some covers (including those mentioned), I am avoiding getting paid; yes, the Ugly Orange Bucket, with its “Tipping Is Not a City in China” label, will accompany me—but I insist on being a stickler for copyrights even if no one else I know is. If this were a paying gig, I would not do any covers—but I don’t have enough Christmas songs of my own to fill an hour’s show.
Joe
This week, though, I’ll try not to worry about it. This is Video Week, time to finish off the “Remembering Tillamook County” documentary. The World Premiere is December 29. Writing and recording the soundtrack is my responsibility. Doable? Of course—but I need to see the whole film first, and that hasn’t happened yet. I have seen pieces of it… What I envision myself doing is recording a base track, basically playing appropriate-sounding chord progressions over the entire length of the film, and then muting the sound when other audio (like interviews or narration) has to take precedence—which will be most of the time. I would like to rope in other musicians to help at strategic points—but that means I have to have my part done early.
Since I like using familiar tools, I anticipate doing all the recording on the Tascam and where I’m dealing with more than four channels, doing the mixing in Audacity. The Arts Center’s Macintoshes have more sophisticated audio software, but I really don’t have time to deal with a learning curve.
There are three “pre-recorded” pieces I want to fit in the film, too. Parts of Deathgrass’ rendition of “Tillamook Railroad Blues” for the opening and closing credits (with train footage and historical train photos for the backdrop). Part of a Kid Siegal song about hunting and fishing, that Charlie recorded at the Wheeler Summerfest. And Native American dance music for the about-the-Indians section (a large part of the funding for the documentary came from a Native American foundation).
Along with the premiere of the documentary, the Arts Center’s having an auction, and of course there’s a Deathgrass CD in among the goodies to be auctioned off. Some folks have offered services, too, from fishing trips to vacation rentals, and I’ve added me to that list, too. “Win me” in the auction and Joe will come perform an hour-long solo concert at your home or business or other place of your choice (I drew the line at “outside in the rain,” though). I wonder whether anyone would be interested in something like that? Every now and then, I get impressions I might have at least some people out there who think having me perform somewhere might draw people in instead of drive them away—and I pointedly do not discourage them. Might be a plus to do this; it’s not like I’m getting many paying gigs places—heck, I’m not getting unpaid ones, either. It could stimulate the market to do more of this.
Late-breaking news: I got tapped to do a Cristmas show at the Netarts Community Club next Tuesday (Dec. 20). They want all Christmas songs—and that means I’ll need to learn some more; besides my six (not all of which are good inclusions for a Christmas show), I can do good renditions of “Blue Christmas,” “White Christmas,” and (of course) “Santa, Baby.” They’d probably like some more traditional stuff. With the deliberate intent of doing some covers (including those mentioned), I am avoiding getting paid; yes, the Ugly Orange Bucket, with its “Tipping Is Not a City in China” label, will accompany me—but I insist on being a stickler for copyrights even if no one else I know is. If this were a paying gig, I would not do any covers—but I don’t have enough Christmas songs of my own to fill an hour’s show.
Joe
Friday, December 9, 2011
ABOUT WRITING CHRISTMAS SONGS...
Watched an instructional video on “How to Write Christmas Songs.” (It was free. Wouldn’t have watched it otherwise.) It was annoying in part because of the mechanical approach—it assumed all you had to do is write down a bunch of words and phrases with the right imagery, string them together, and voila! Instant Christmas song!
I realize a lot of people do sit down to write deliberately (and I’ve always been impressed by their ability to do that). There are numerous organized exercises for that: the FAWM (February is Album Writing Month), the 50-songs-in-90-days challenge, the November Novel… The premise behind all of those is practice writing—if you produce enough volume, something’s likely to be good—and you will get better at what you do. I don’t argue with the approach. I just don’t work that way myself. I insist on waiting for inspiration to bite (and ideally, draw blood). And I’m more interested in achieving perfection consistently (and don’t mind taking time with it) rather than cluttering my brain with a lot of disposable material. But that’s just me. I am not about to force my peccadilloes on anybody else.
What I found frustrating about the instructional video, though, was that it ignored Wrabek’s Rule Four: Be different—either be saying something new or be saying something old in a new way. Christmas songs are a big challenge, because you have to work with a very limited standard imagery set. If you’re not asking, “How can I do this differently?” what you end up with is more of the Same Old Stuff That’s Already Been Done. And you’re not likely to get attention if you’re just replicating what somebody else (in all likelihood, somebody more established and more famous than you) already did (and probably did better than you).
A couple of cases in point: a pair of Christmas songs by a pair of ex-Beatles, Paul McCartney and John Lennon. McCartney’s “Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime” says precisely nothing at all, and says it pretty conventionally to boot. Yes, sappiness obviously sells—but you folks who are just stringing conventional images together into Christmas songs, there’s your competition. Why would people purchase your song over Sir Paul’s? Lennon’s “Happy Christmas (War Is Over),” on the other hand, shouts “I’m different!” If what you’ve got is different, you have given people a reason to purchase your song, irrespective of how established or famous you are.
My Christmas songs are all un-normal. We have dead animals (though “Dead Dog” is about giving, and “Even Roadkill Gets the Blues” about wishes that don’t come true), we torpedo icons (“Santa’s Fallen and He Can’t Get Up”), we have an unconventional Christmas—in jail (Don Varnell’s “Another Crappy Christmas,” which I musicated), we address the problem of getting kids to bed Christmas Eve (“Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire”) and what an adult might write Santa for (“I Want a Man for Christmas”). I don’t know as I could say any of them were written deliberately—though I had reasons to do all of them, and to have them done in time for their respective Christmases. Different? I always find it useful to ask, “Can I say that with dead animals?”—even though the song in question may not come out that way.
And they do get attention. “I’m Giving Mom a Dead Dog for Christmas” has been sung by Christmas carolers (scary, true, but it does have a very singable chorus); “Santa’s Fallen” ended up on a Philippine album of Christmas songs (it’s the only song of mine ever published by an outside publisher); and “Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire” was played on the radio yesterday. A stringing-together of conventional images might not have any of those things happen.
Because that’s the other default one has to contend with in Christmas songs. The good ones have staying power. Some of them have been around for years (some for hundreds of years), which isn’t true of much other popular music. You hear them over and over again every Christmas. When famous singers put out Christmas albums (they all do, sooner or later), they don’t cover new songs—they do the “classics.” It’s a big database, and a hard one to make it into. One of the most recent songs that did get added to that database was “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.” It was different, that one. One should be different.
Joe
I realize a lot of people do sit down to write deliberately (and I’ve always been impressed by their ability to do that). There are numerous organized exercises for that: the FAWM (February is Album Writing Month), the 50-songs-in-90-days challenge, the November Novel… The premise behind all of those is practice writing—if you produce enough volume, something’s likely to be good—and you will get better at what you do. I don’t argue with the approach. I just don’t work that way myself. I insist on waiting for inspiration to bite (and ideally, draw blood). And I’m more interested in achieving perfection consistently (and don’t mind taking time with it) rather than cluttering my brain with a lot of disposable material. But that’s just me. I am not about to force my peccadilloes on anybody else.
What I found frustrating about the instructional video, though, was that it ignored Wrabek’s Rule Four: Be different—either be saying something new or be saying something old in a new way. Christmas songs are a big challenge, because you have to work with a very limited standard imagery set. If you’re not asking, “How can I do this differently?” what you end up with is more of the Same Old Stuff That’s Already Been Done. And you’re not likely to get attention if you’re just replicating what somebody else (in all likelihood, somebody more established and more famous than you) already did (and probably did better than you).
A couple of cases in point: a pair of Christmas songs by a pair of ex-Beatles, Paul McCartney and John Lennon. McCartney’s “Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime” says precisely nothing at all, and says it pretty conventionally to boot. Yes, sappiness obviously sells—but you folks who are just stringing conventional images together into Christmas songs, there’s your competition. Why would people purchase your song over Sir Paul’s? Lennon’s “Happy Christmas (War Is Over),” on the other hand, shouts “I’m different!” If what you’ve got is different, you have given people a reason to purchase your song, irrespective of how established or famous you are.
My Christmas songs are all un-normal. We have dead animals (though “Dead Dog” is about giving, and “Even Roadkill Gets the Blues” about wishes that don’t come true), we torpedo icons (“Santa’s Fallen and He Can’t Get Up”), we have an unconventional Christmas—in jail (Don Varnell’s “Another Crappy Christmas,” which I musicated), we address the problem of getting kids to bed Christmas Eve (“Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire”) and what an adult might write Santa for (“I Want a Man for Christmas”). I don’t know as I could say any of them were written deliberately—though I had reasons to do all of them, and to have them done in time for their respective Christmases. Different? I always find it useful to ask, “Can I say that with dead animals?”—even though the song in question may not come out that way.
And they do get attention. “I’m Giving Mom a Dead Dog for Christmas” has been sung by Christmas carolers (scary, true, but it does have a very singable chorus); “Santa’s Fallen” ended up on a Philippine album of Christmas songs (it’s the only song of mine ever published by an outside publisher); and “Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire” was played on the radio yesterday. A stringing-together of conventional images might not have any of those things happen.
Because that’s the other default one has to contend with in Christmas songs. The good ones have staying power. Some of them have been around for years (some for hundreds of years), which isn’t true of much other popular music. You hear them over and over again every Christmas. When famous singers put out Christmas albums (they all do, sooner or later), they don’t cover new songs—they do the “classics.” It’s a big database, and a hard one to make it into. One of the most recent songs that did get added to that database was “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.” It was different, that one. One should be different.
Joe
TONIC LOUNGE SETLIST (&C.)...
For the Tonic Lounge Dec. 28, I’ve got a maximum of 12 minutes. That’s four songs if (1) I’m playing solo (no lead breaks), and (2) the songs are short and (3) people don’t clap too much. (I can ask them to limit their applause. I’m sure that’ll go over well.) How about:
Can I Have Your Car When the Rapture Comes?—slow & sleazy
Dead Things in the Shower—fast two-step
The Abomination Two-Step—fast bluegrass
Pole Dancing for Jesus—slow, sleazy Gospel
Three of the four are “religious” songs. I really did manage to incorporate the old mantra I gave the Songstuff people, years ago—my songs are about death, lost love, betrayal, religion and dead animals—in just four songs, but it’s not obvious; I’ll have to point it out. I wanted to lead off with “Rapture,” because it needs no introduction (and at 12 minutes, I will be pressed for time). The four are mostly short songs for that reason. Having “Dead Things” on the list (the longest song, at just over 4 minutes) allows me to promote the album, which would be good. No Christmas songs ‘cause ‘Tis The Season Season will be over.
This coming week, most of my spare energy will go into the soundtrack for the “Remembering Tillamook County” video production. I want to use part of Deathgrass’ cut of “Tillamook Railroad Blues” for the sound behind the opening credits (and I will need some train images and footage), and maybe for the closing credits as well. Charlie caught on film about two-thirds of a Kid Seagal song at the Wheeler Summerfest that we’d like to use, too. (Kid’s had two strokes since then.) For the rest of the film, I think it’s mostly my puppy; I’ll need to watch the entire production to figure out what music would go best, record a base track, and then enlist other musicians to help. All in one week. Premiere of the film is December 29.
I now have a lot of homework for the square dance caller class. A lot of moves to learn, and “modules” of moves (the modules are zero-sum things—sequences of moves that end up returning your dancers to the same place they started, whereupon you can do it again). Instructor Daryl is recommending I start practicing on live dancers right away. (He also said it wouldn’t really be necessary to hire a caller to teach square dance classes—I could do it. I appreciate the confidence.) He’s sent me some music, too.
I’d also like to assemble a square (that’s 8) miniature square dance “dolls” I could move around on a board like chess pieces, to see what my calls make dancers do. (In fact, chess pieces would work for this—but what would be more fun would be rubber ducks. I bet I know where I could get some.) Still to do: test out the sound system and make sure those speakers work. And get a cable—if I don’t already have one—to connect the laptop to the amp/amp-and-mixer.
I heard it was the acoustic-folksinger guy who won the “contest” at the Thirsty Lion Tuesday night. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised; he was the only one actually from Portland (both I and Heavy Metal Guy had come from out of town) and winning is based on votes—i.e., how big a bunch of fans you can get to turn out and vote for you. There might be a song in it, though—I heard the beginnings of it last night as I was driving home—a dark, very hora-like dance chock-full of minor chords (a lot like that guy’s music, in fact, though with a more conventional chord progression) about someone with an angelic voice who has nothing to say. I have no idea if it’ll be any good—or if I can prevent that Israeli beat from morphing into country music—but it at least will get the frustration out of my system.
And he’s not the only one who could use some good material. There was a girl singing at the Tsunami last night who had a voice that could put Patsy Cline to shame (and that’s hard to do)—and I think she’s got some ambition to do something with it, because she’s teaching herself to play guitar. I’ve met others too. There are a couple of my songs that would work well for this girl—I’d love to hear what she could do with “Rotten Candy”—but I’m not the only writer out there with songs going begging. I know enough people now to be able to put independent, unknown talent together with unknown, independent writers—I could even produce their records. What I can’t do is get them to market. I do not know how to achieve that.
Joe
Can I Have Your Car When the Rapture Comes?—slow & sleazy
Dead Things in the Shower—fast two-step
The Abomination Two-Step—fast bluegrass
Pole Dancing for Jesus—slow, sleazy Gospel
Three of the four are “religious” songs. I really did manage to incorporate the old mantra I gave the Songstuff people, years ago—my songs are about death, lost love, betrayal, religion and dead animals—in just four songs, but it’s not obvious; I’ll have to point it out. I wanted to lead off with “Rapture,” because it needs no introduction (and at 12 minutes, I will be pressed for time). The four are mostly short songs for that reason. Having “Dead Things” on the list (the longest song, at just over 4 minutes) allows me to promote the album, which would be good. No Christmas songs ‘cause ‘Tis The Season Season will be over.
This coming week, most of my spare energy will go into the soundtrack for the “Remembering Tillamook County” video production. I want to use part of Deathgrass’ cut of “Tillamook Railroad Blues” for the sound behind the opening credits (and I will need some train images and footage), and maybe for the closing credits as well. Charlie caught on film about two-thirds of a Kid Seagal song at the Wheeler Summerfest that we’d like to use, too. (Kid’s had two strokes since then.) For the rest of the film, I think it’s mostly my puppy; I’ll need to watch the entire production to figure out what music would go best, record a base track, and then enlist other musicians to help. All in one week. Premiere of the film is December 29.
I now have a lot of homework for the square dance caller class. A lot of moves to learn, and “modules” of moves (the modules are zero-sum things—sequences of moves that end up returning your dancers to the same place they started, whereupon you can do it again). Instructor Daryl is recommending I start practicing on live dancers right away. (He also said it wouldn’t really be necessary to hire a caller to teach square dance classes—I could do it. I appreciate the confidence.) He’s sent me some music, too.
I’d also like to assemble a square (that’s 8) miniature square dance “dolls” I could move around on a board like chess pieces, to see what my calls make dancers do. (In fact, chess pieces would work for this—but what would be more fun would be rubber ducks. I bet I know where I could get some.) Still to do: test out the sound system and make sure those speakers work. And get a cable—if I don’t already have one—to connect the laptop to the amp/amp-and-mixer.
I heard it was the acoustic-folksinger guy who won the “contest” at the Thirsty Lion Tuesday night. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised; he was the only one actually from Portland (both I and Heavy Metal Guy had come from out of town) and winning is based on votes—i.e., how big a bunch of fans you can get to turn out and vote for you. There might be a song in it, though—I heard the beginnings of it last night as I was driving home—a dark, very hora-like dance chock-full of minor chords (a lot like that guy’s music, in fact, though with a more conventional chord progression) about someone with an angelic voice who has nothing to say. I have no idea if it’ll be any good—or if I can prevent that Israeli beat from morphing into country music—but it at least will get the frustration out of my system.
And he’s not the only one who could use some good material. There was a girl singing at the Tsunami last night who had a voice that could put Patsy Cline to shame (and that’s hard to do)—and I think she’s got some ambition to do something with it, because she’s teaching herself to play guitar. I’ve met others too. There are a couple of my songs that would work well for this girl—I’d love to hear what she could do with “Rotten Candy”—but I’m not the only writer out there with songs going begging. I know enough people now to be able to put independent, unknown talent together with unknown, independent writers—I could even produce their records. What I can’t do is get them to market. I do not know how to achieve that.
Joe
Monday, December 5, 2011
A FEW THINGS...
A few things… I’m procrastinating—it is cold outside—but procrastinating really is one of those things that by rights should be done later.
Got speakers from next door neighbor Bob that may work for the square dance caller setup. They’re not super-large but they’re as large as the ones our instructor uses—and he’s able to fill a grange hall with sound. I have Dick Ackerman’s old Radio Shack amp (that we used as the basic engine for 45 Degrees North’s amplification), and my ancient 6-channel mixer (ditto); I think both have a “line in” port. Since the amp is a 2-channel, the mixer might be unnecessary. I will need to get or make a cable that will run from the laptop to whatever the “line in” port is (I think they’re RCA jacks—all this equipment is old).
And because I insist on everything being able to do at least double duty, if the speakers work for square dance calling, they make the amp/amp-and-mixer setup usable for small gigs, too. It all can be upgraded piecemeal later on to newer equipment—and I will do that, once (or if) I get a real job.
Played (which amounted to practicing) “I Want a Man for Christmas” and Don Varnell’s “Another Crappy Christmas” at Jane’s housewarming party. Both were pretty well-received. Got an update, too, on the “Blue Krishna” video project. Film is still being collected. (Good to know I haven’t been forgotten about.) Piecing the final product together will be lots of fun.
And I did figure out the melody to “Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire.” I knew it had to be simple country music if I’d done it, and it was. Mel Torme’s original may be chock full of fruity jazz chords, but I didn’t use anything more complicated than a couple of sevenths. And that signature riff? It’s just a simple bass run. And I can sing and play it at the same time. I think that means I’m read for the Christmas show at the Thirsty Lion.
I’ve been wrestling with Lorelei Loveridge’s suggestion on how to better stay in touch with a growing fan base. She recommended a “Golden Rule” approach: what do I as a fan want out of the people whose music I buy? The “fan generated” video of “Blue Krishna” is part of it, I think. “My people” (if I dare call them that) want to be part of whatever creative enterprise I’m up to; they are not just listeners, in other words. Now, the “Blue Krishna” project doesn’t involve a whole lot of people. The next one should involve more. I’d like to do a video of “I’m Giving Mom a Dead Dog for Christmas” with a whole bunch of singers—that one’s chorus tends to encourage singing along. (And the singers could dress up in their Christmas finery for the production.)
I’ve run across one artist who did regular progress videos from the studio while she was putting her album together; I couldn’t do that precisely—Deathgrass actually spent only a few hours in the studio because the Dead Things in the Shower album was recorded mostly live and in one take—but some film about the process might be educational (and worthwhile). How does one pick a studio? A sound engineer? (I know how I did it, and I could talk about that.) Some talk with the sound engineer about what stuff he has, and how he uses it, perhaps, and some footage of a song being recorded—not much, because the way we do it, it doesn’t take long.
Two trips to Portland this week—Thirsty Lion on Tuesday, square dance calling class on Wednesday. On the radio for the Arts Center Thursday morning, and music at the Tsunami in Wheeler Thursday night. Good thing I have Friday to rest, ‘cause Saturday gets real busy—a Relay for Life retreat in the morning, music at the Library in the afternoon, followed by a reception that wants me to bring cookies. I think the next week is even busier. ‘Tis the season…
Joe
Got speakers from next door neighbor Bob that may work for the square dance caller setup. They’re not super-large but they’re as large as the ones our instructor uses—and he’s able to fill a grange hall with sound. I have Dick Ackerman’s old Radio Shack amp (that we used as the basic engine for 45 Degrees North’s amplification), and my ancient 6-channel mixer (ditto); I think both have a “line in” port. Since the amp is a 2-channel, the mixer might be unnecessary. I will need to get or make a cable that will run from the laptop to whatever the “line in” port is (I think they’re RCA jacks—all this equipment is old).
And because I insist on everything being able to do at least double duty, if the speakers work for square dance calling, they make the amp/amp-and-mixer setup usable for small gigs, too. It all can be upgraded piecemeal later on to newer equipment—and I will do that, once (or if) I get a real job.
Played (which amounted to practicing) “I Want a Man for Christmas” and Don Varnell’s “Another Crappy Christmas” at Jane’s housewarming party. Both were pretty well-received. Got an update, too, on the “Blue Krishna” video project. Film is still being collected. (Good to know I haven’t been forgotten about.) Piecing the final product together will be lots of fun.
And I did figure out the melody to “Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire.” I knew it had to be simple country music if I’d done it, and it was. Mel Torme’s original may be chock full of fruity jazz chords, but I didn’t use anything more complicated than a couple of sevenths. And that signature riff? It’s just a simple bass run. And I can sing and play it at the same time. I think that means I’m read for the Christmas show at the Thirsty Lion.
I’ve been wrestling with Lorelei Loveridge’s suggestion on how to better stay in touch with a growing fan base. She recommended a “Golden Rule” approach: what do I as a fan want out of the people whose music I buy? The “fan generated” video of “Blue Krishna” is part of it, I think. “My people” (if I dare call them that) want to be part of whatever creative enterprise I’m up to; they are not just listeners, in other words. Now, the “Blue Krishna” project doesn’t involve a whole lot of people. The next one should involve more. I’d like to do a video of “I’m Giving Mom a Dead Dog for Christmas” with a whole bunch of singers—that one’s chorus tends to encourage singing along. (And the singers could dress up in their Christmas finery for the production.)
I’ve run across one artist who did regular progress videos from the studio while she was putting her album together; I couldn’t do that precisely—Deathgrass actually spent only a few hours in the studio because the Dead Things in the Shower album was recorded mostly live and in one take—but some film about the process might be educational (and worthwhile). How does one pick a studio? A sound engineer? (I know how I did it, and I could talk about that.) Some talk with the sound engineer about what stuff he has, and how he uses it, perhaps, and some footage of a song being recorded—not much, because the way we do it, it doesn’t take long.
Two trips to Portland this week—Thirsty Lion on Tuesday, square dance calling class on Wednesday. On the radio for the Arts Center Thursday morning, and music at the Tsunami in Wheeler Thursday night. Good thing I have Friday to rest, ‘cause Saturday gets real busy—a Relay for Life retreat in the morning, music at the Library in the afternoon, followed by a reception that wants me to bring cookies. I think the next week is even busier. ‘Tis the season…
Joe
Sunday, December 4, 2011
REVIEWING THE 2011 WORKLIST...
I was patting myself on the back for accomplishing most of the things I wanted to do today. I was able to do so, though, because it was a short list. I have of late assigned myself way too much to do and not managed to do it. I got the new sweatshirt design done (and it was pretty good), and wore it around in public some (where it got mostly appreciative comments), tried to retrieve Wayne the songwriter’s CD from the library (which couldn’t find it), welded “Luke” the ‘puter’s hard drive rack in place (he may finally be operational tomorrow), baked cookies for Jane’s housewarming party tomorrow in Nehalem, and went to a retirement party for the Rockaway librarian.
So, while we’re talking about accomplishing things… What did I accomplish on the Worklist this year?
WRITING: I count only five new songs in 2011—“Pole Dancing for Jesus” (March), “Selling Off My Body Parts” (April), “Earwigs in the Eggplant” (June), “Blue Krishna” (August), and “The Occupation Song” (October, I guess, though it’s still not recorded yet). That’s well below the one-a-month-on-average I decided I’d be happy with. Theme songs for the “Sleeping Piggy,” “Cinderpiggy” and “Jedi Pigs of Oz” puppet shows, but I don’t want to count those as real songs—at one verse/one chorus they’re too short. No co-writes in 2011 (bad).
ALBUMS: Got the Deathgrass album out; that actually worked out just about perfectly. Still plenty of copies to sell. No progress on either the Southern Pigfish all-videos album (though I talked about it a lot) or the “12 Reasons Why Joe Is Going to Hell” album (though “Pole Dancing for Jesus” is a definite inclusion).
MARKETING: The Deathgrass album is for sale on CDBaby both as “hard copy” and as download. I haven’t received any checks from them so I assume there haven’t been any sales. Got some decent concert footage of Deathgrass [below]. Replaced the computers—the conniptions involved in that have been a constant fixture of the blog in recent months—and in the process ended up with a laptop that can burn DVDs (not the one I expected, though). Never did get around to having any CD release parties; the CD is just out there. Sent or delivered copies to a number of radio stations, and I hope they’re playing it—I have no way to tell.
VIDEO: It was a good year for video. Two videos uploaded that I’m relatively happy with, “Can I Have Your Car When the Rapture Comes?” (January) and “50 Ways to Cure the Depression” (March). The video of “Twenty-Four Seven” wasn’t bad (October). All three tried experimental techniques that I believe I’ve mastered now. Concert footage on YouTube of two songs, too—“She Ain’t Starvin’ Herself” and “Dead Things in the Shower”—both performed by Deathgrass at the Wheeler Summerfest. Still in progress: a fan-generated video of “Blue Krishna” to which I’ve committed the old digital camera.
MORE GIGS: I did have more—just not a lot more. Finally got to play the Willamette Writers, though it was for tips, and Whitney Streed’s comedy night at the Tonic, both solo and in Portland; the Summerfest was new for Deathgrass, and I lined up a few new gigs for 2012. Briefly had a second band, 45 Degrees North, which got some gigs (a couple of them paying gigs) before they broke up before the end of the summer.
STAYING IN TOUCH: Ideas more than anything—I didn’t put any work into it. I did make it to southern Oregon for the SOSA Summer Concert Series, but that was the only serious traveling I did. Skype? Website? Maybe now that Computer Hell has settled down.
AND THE WORLD TOUR: I said a man’s reach should exceed his grasp. That one definitely exceeded mine in 2011.
NOT ON THE LIST BUT I SHOULD MENTION ANYWAY: Wrote three plays for the “Pig Wars” sock-puppet troupe—two of them performed (and the video of one came out pretty good), one still to be scheduled. Theme songs for all three puppet shows, too. Joined a just-starting marimba band. Started classes to become a square dance caller.
Next: the 2012 Worklist. 2012 is supposed to be a slightly shorter year, with the world scheduled to end Dec. 21. There is probably a song in it.
Joe
So, while we’re talking about accomplishing things… What did I accomplish on the Worklist this year?
WRITING: I count only five new songs in 2011—“Pole Dancing for Jesus” (March), “Selling Off My Body Parts” (April), “Earwigs in the Eggplant” (June), “Blue Krishna” (August), and “The Occupation Song” (October, I guess, though it’s still not recorded yet). That’s well below the one-a-month-on-average I decided I’d be happy with. Theme songs for the “Sleeping Piggy,” “Cinderpiggy” and “Jedi Pigs of Oz” puppet shows, but I don’t want to count those as real songs—at one verse/one chorus they’re too short. No co-writes in 2011 (bad).
ALBUMS: Got the Deathgrass album out; that actually worked out just about perfectly. Still plenty of copies to sell. No progress on either the Southern Pigfish all-videos album (though I talked about it a lot) or the “12 Reasons Why Joe Is Going to Hell” album (though “Pole Dancing for Jesus” is a definite inclusion).
MARKETING: The Deathgrass album is for sale on CDBaby both as “hard copy” and as download. I haven’t received any checks from them so I assume there haven’t been any sales. Got some decent concert footage of Deathgrass [below]. Replaced the computers—the conniptions involved in that have been a constant fixture of the blog in recent months—and in the process ended up with a laptop that can burn DVDs (not the one I expected, though). Never did get around to having any CD release parties; the CD is just out there. Sent or delivered copies to a number of radio stations, and I hope they’re playing it—I have no way to tell.
VIDEO: It was a good year for video. Two videos uploaded that I’m relatively happy with, “Can I Have Your Car When the Rapture Comes?” (January) and “50 Ways to Cure the Depression” (March). The video of “Twenty-Four Seven” wasn’t bad (October). All three tried experimental techniques that I believe I’ve mastered now. Concert footage on YouTube of two songs, too—“She Ain’t Starvin’ Herself” and “Dead Things in the Shower”—both performed by Deathgrass at the Wheeler Summerfest. Still in progress: a fan-generated video of “Blue Krishna” to which I’ve committed the old digital camera.
MORE GIGS: I did have more—just not a lot more. Finally got to play the Willamette Writers, though it was for tips, and Whitney Streed’s comedy night at the Tonic, both solo and in Portland; the Summerfest was new for Deathgrass, and I lined up a few new gigs for 2012. Briefly had a second band, 45 Degrees North, which got some gigs (a couple of them paying gigs) before they broke up before the end of the summer.
STAYING IN TOUCH: Ideas more than anything—I didn’t put any work into it. I did make it to southern Oregon for the SOSA Summer Concert Series, but that was the only serious traveling I did. Skype? Website? Maybe now that Computer Hell has settled down.
AND THE WORLD TOUR: I said a man’s reach should exceed his grasp. That one definitely exceeded mine in 2011.
NOT ON THE LIST BUT I SHOULD MENTION ANYWAY: Wrote three plays for the “Pig Wars” sock-puppet troupe—two of them performed (and the video of one came out pretty good), one still to be scheduled. Theme songs for all three puppet shows, too. Joined a just-starting marimba band. Started classes to become a square dance caller.
Next: the 2012 Worklist. 2012 is supposed to be a slightly shorter year, with the world scheduled to end Dec. 21. There is probably a song in it.
Joe
Friday, December 2, 2011
AN ASIDE: SHOULD I RUN FOR COUNTY COMMISSIONER?
Well, I could. Run for county commissioner, that is. There are two seats (out of three) open and one of the incumbents is running unopposed, even. I don’t have to decide until March—that’s when I’d have to have papers in. Election’s in May.
Why would I want to do something like that? Well, county commissioner here is a paid job, and (as I’ve noted before) I could really use a paying job. It is also work I can do and have done (though not for a county before). The operative question is whether I could have enough name familiarity by election time to be successful. I would not be entering the race to lose. I don’t like losing.
For one of the commissioner seats, there’s presently a five-way race, and I know personally three of the candidates and have talked to a fourth, and would be hard pressed to tell any voter why they should pick me over any of them. I might not vote for me myself under those conditions. All the other candidates announced some time ago—one can start as early as September, here, and some of them did. But the other seat (and these are “at-large” positions—county commissioners are elected county-wide) has an incumbent who’s running for re-election unopposed. Oh, it’s tempting.
I have nothing against the guy; he’s an ex-state bureaucrat, a little conservative (I am a lot conservative), gets around a lot, and appears to know what he’s doing. I’d probably vote for the guy even though I don’t know him well. I do hate to see anybody unopposed, though; you never get a discussion of issues because there’s no one to debate them with.
Could I do a better job than him? Maybe; that’d be the main reason people would want to vote for me, after all. I am one of the tightest people I know with a dollar, and the county is running short on money—the county treasurer has been complaining about that for years. No, I don’t have many specific ideas for saving money—I’d just keep my eyes open and grab every opportunity I could. I have the budgeting experience, the personnel management experience, and I know the laws and regulations the county has to operate under. From being a small-town mayor, a lobbyist, and a city manager, I know a lot of useful people in state and Federal government—probably the incumbent fellow knows a lot of the same folks. And I’m accessible (yes, I think the other guy probably is, too). I consider that important.
There are a few “issue” things we could talk about. I’d like to re-structure county government, replacing the three full-time paid commissioners with a volunteer board elected by district and a county manager; big change (only one rural county in Oregon has done it), but it does save money, as well as getting government closer to the voters. (I would be eliminating my own job in the process—but I’ve done that before.) I’d like to force one or more of the population centers in South County to incorporate as cities—controversial, to be sure, and it would cost those folks some bucks, but it’d save the county money. And I could give ‘em reasons why it’s a good idea. I like the idea of a sales tax on tourists to bring in extra money (and that one’s guaranteed to be controversial, with so many jobs in the county dependent on tourist traffic). I can talk passionately about all these things and not be heartbroken if I don’t get my way. That’s how politics works.
Name familiarity is a key to getting elected to anything (there’s the “household word” problem again, just like in the music business). With no money for advertising, and not much for promotional materials (though I can design those myself), I’d be doing most of my campaigning by talking to people—following the old Biblical dictum: “Whenever two or three of you are gathered together, there am I.” In a rural area like this, one reaches people through the organizations they belong to (and there are a lot of them). On the plus side, I obviously have the time. On the minus side, I am really not sure I know enough people to be able to pull it off.
So think of this as an Exploratory Question. Is there support out there for me to run for county commissioner and not waste my time? I won’t decide for a while, but I’d like to hear from people.
Joe
Why would I want to do something like that? Well, county commissioner here is a paid job, and (as I’ve noted before) I could really use a paying job. It is also work I can do and have done (though not for a county before). The operative question is whether I could have enough name familiarity by election time to be successful. I would not be entering the race to lose. I don’t like losing.
For one of the commissioner seats, there’s presently a five-way race, and I know personally three of the candidates and have talked to a fourth, and would be hard pressed to tell any voter why they should pick me over any of them. I might not vote for me myself under those conditions. All the other candidates announced some time ago—one can start as early as September, here, and some of them did. But the other seat (and these are “at-large” positions—county commissioners are elected county-wide) has an incumbent who’s running for re-election unopposed. Oh, it’s tempting.
I have nothing against the guy; he’s an ex-state bureaucrat, a little conservative (I am a lot conservative), gets around a lot, and appears to know what he’s doing. I’d probably vote for the guy even though I don’t know him well. I do hate to see anybody unopposed, though; you never get a discussion of issues because there’s no one to debate them with.
Could I do a better job than him? Maybe; that’d be the main reason people would want to vote for me, after all. I am one of the tightest people I know with a dollar, and the county is running short on money—the county treasurer has been complaining about that for years. No, I don’t have many specific ideas for saving money—I’d just keep my eyes open and grab every opportunity I could. I have the budgeting experience, the personnel management experience, and I know the laws and regulations the county has to operate under. From being a small-town mayor, a lobbyist, and a city manager, I know a lot of useful people in state and Federal government—probably the incumbent fellow knows a lot of the same folks. And I’m accessible (yes, I think the other guy probably is, too). I consider that important.
There are a few “issue” things we could talk about. I’d like to re-structure county government, replacing the three full-time paid commissioners with a volunteer board elected by district and a county manager; big change (only one rural county in Oregon has done it), but it does save money, as well as getting government closer to the voters. (I would be eliminating my own job in the process—but I’ve done that before.) I’d like to force one or more of the population centers in South County to incorporate as cities—controversial, to be sure, and it would cost those folks some bucks, but it’d save the county money. And I could give ‘em reasons why it’s a good idea. I like the idea of a sales tax on tourists to bring in extra money (and that one’s guaranteed to be controversial, with so many jobs in the county dependent on tourist traffic). I can talk passionately about all these things and not be heartbroken if I don’t get my way. That’s how politics works.
Name familiarity is a key to getting elected to anything (there’s the “household word” problem again, just like in the music business). With no money for advertising, and not much for promotional materials (though I can design those myself), I’d be doing most of my campaigning by talking to people—following the old Biblical dictum: “Whenever two or three of you are gathered together, there am I.” In a rural area like this, one reaches people through the organizations they belong to (and there are a lot of them). On the plus side, I obviously have the time. On the minus side, I am really not sure I know enough people to be able to pull it off.
So think of this as an Exploratory Question. Is there support out there for me to run for county commissioner and not waste my time? I won’t decide for a while, but I’d like to hear from people.
Joe
Thursday, December 1, 2011
THE TRIP TO PORTLAND...
The New Family Marimba is home; it’s got short legs, which I might want to change—but maybe not. (Squatting on the floor to play is supposed to be good for you.) I did get advice from the vendor on electrifying the thing; he’s unaware of anyone ever having done so, but he did have instructions from someone who electrified a different African percussion instrument using a fleet of little piezo mikes, connected in series. I don’t know if that would work with the marimba; one would have to mount a piezo on each “key” (and the “keys” are big resonant wooden blocks, each tuned to a particular note) and connect them to each other with wires—and I worry whether having the wires attached might destroy the resonance of the “keys,” which are suspended on cables and kept separate from each other.
My own amplification idea—also never tried before that I know of—is to suspend a long block of wood beneath the “keys” in place of the standard resonator made of plastic pipe (which makes the marimba sound louder, but also very tinny)—and mount on that block one or more of those “tabletop” mikes that are designed to pick up vibrations from a wooden surface. Those tabletop mikes are a little spendy, but one might need only one—and one could detach the sounding board when it wasn’t needed.
The Dell shop isolated the problem with “Justin”—it’s his CPU, alas. It has given up the ghost, alas. I won’t be replacing that any time soon; those critters are expensive. The Dell techies argued against it, too, advising that new models of this machine are only $400 now and I should just get a new one. (I won’t be doing that, either.) Since the shop refunded my money from the earlier repair job, all I’m really out is the $60 I originally paid for “Justin,” assuming he was a working computer. That’s not too bad. I’ll see if some of Justin’s parts can be cannibalized for use elsewhere. (It’d be nice if the RAM chips fit “Luke” the short-on-brains Compaq, for instance.)
Square dance caller class is fascinating. A lot of information to absorb but the basic concepts already make a lot of sense. I need to memorize calls like I do songs, which means writing them down to fix them in memory; when I’m on stage, I won’t have any props—just like when I’m performing. The instructor is very traditionalist; he doesn’t use a computer to choreograph his (or rather the dancers’) moves—instead, he keeps it all in his head. And he’s encouraging me to do the same. For equipment, I do have a laptop, and a mixer and amplifier (the same ones used for 45 Degrees North); what I do not have is speakers. Instructor Daryl suggested it might be easier and cheaper to build my own, and he may be right.
One suggestion of Daryl’s I would like to implement—assembling a small group of live square dancers (takes 8) who would let me practice my moves on them on a regular (weekly?) basis. It’d be visible evidence for me of what happens when I call specific moves, and how many beats it takes dancers to execute them; it’d also be practice performing this stuff in front of (on, actually) a live (and friendly) audience. Much like performing new songs at an open mike.
I’d planned on using the 6-hour drive back and forth to Portland to practice singing the Christmas songs for the Thirsty Lion gig—and I did; but because I tend to write on long trips, I also managed to come home with a ditty—nothing special, just a little self-promotional commercial saying how excited I’d be to get a half-time job shelving books in the library. (Like “The Occupation Song” says, “I want to occupy the library…”) Ought to pass it on to the county and see if it’d convince them to hire me. True, I’m not exactly qualified for book-shelving—but like the ditty says, “I remember my numbers from when I was a kid, and I can prob’ly figure out the alphabet.” Times may be hard but one should have fun with them anyway. The Hindu deity Ganesha used to recommend dancing: “If it doesn’t make the situation better, at least it makes you feel better.”
Joe
My own amplification idea—also never tried before that I know of—is to suspend a long block of wood beneath the “keys” in place of the standard resonator made of plastic pipe (which makes the marimba sound louder, but also very tinny)—and mount on that block one or more of those “tabletop” mikes that are designed to pick up vibrations from a wooden surface. Those tabletop mikes are a little spendy, but one might need only one—and one could detach the sounding board when it wasn’t needed.
The Dell shop isolated the problem with “Justin”—it’s his CPU, alas. It has given up the ghost, alas. I won’t be replacing that any time soon; those critters are expensive. The Dell techies argued against it, too, advising that new models of this machine are only $400 now and I should just get a new one. (I won’t be doing that, either.) Since the shop refunded my money from the earlier repair job, all I’m really out is the $60 I originally paid for “Justin,” assuming he was a working computer. That’s not too bad. I’ll see if some of Justin’s parts can be cannibalized for use elsewhere. (It’d be nice if the RAM chips fit “Luke” the short-on-brains Compaq, for instance.)
Square dance caller class is fascinating. A lot of information to absorb but the basic concepts already make a lot of sense. I need to memorize calls like I do songs, which means writing them down to fix them in memory; when I’m on stage, I won’t have any props—just like when I’m performing. The instructor is very traditionalist; he doesn’t use a computer to choreograph his (or rather the dancers’) moves—instead, he keeps it all in his head. And he’s encouraging me to do the same. For equipment, I do have a laptop, and a mixer and amplifier (the same ones used for 45 Degrees North); what I do not have is speakers. Instructor Daryl suggested it might be easier and cheaper to build my own, and he may be right.
One suggestion of Daryl’s I would like to implement—assembling a small group of live square dancers (takes 8) who would let me practice my moves on them on a regular (weekly?) basis. It’d be visible evidence for me of what happens when I call specific moves, and how many beats it takes dancers to execute them; it’d also be practice performing this stuff in front of (on, actually) a live (and friendly) audience. Much like performing new songs at an open mike.
I’d planned on using the 6-hour drive back and forth to Portland to practice singing the Christmas songs for the Thirsty Lion gig—and I did; but because I tend to write on long trips, I also managed to come home with a ditty—nothing special, just a little self-promotional commercial saying how excited I’d be to get a half-time job shelving books in the library. (Like “The Occupation Song” says, “I want to occupy the library…”) Ought to pass it on to the county and see if it’d convince them to hire me. True, I’m not exactly qualified for book-shelving—but like the ditty says, “I remember my numbers from when I was a kid, and I can prob’ly figure out the alphabet.” Times may be hard but one should have fun with them anyway. The Hindu deity Ganesha used to recommend dancing: “If it doesn’t make the situation better, at least it makes you feel better.”
Joe
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
