WELCOME...

This blog is the outgrowth of a songwriting workshop I conducted at the 2006 "Moograss" Bluegrass Festival in Tillamook, Oregon. It presumes that after 30-odd years of writing and playing music, I might have something to contribute that others might take advantage of. If not, it may be at least a record of an entertaining journey, and a list of mistakes others may be able to avoid repeating. This blog is intended to be updated weekly. In addition to discussions about WRITING, it will discuss PROMOTION--perhaps the biggest challenge for a writer today--as well as provide UPDATES on continuing PROJECTS, dates and venues for CONCERTS as they happen, how and where to get THE LATEST CD, the LINKS to sites where LATEST SONGS are posted, and a way to E-MAIL ME if you've a mind to. Not all these features will show up right away. Like songwriting itself, this is a work in progress. What isn't here now will be here eventually. Thank you for your interest and your support.

Monday, January 30, 2012

TWO GOOD SONGS?

So… two good songs this month, “Spend the End of the World with Me” and “One Gas Station,” the former an end-of-the-world love song and the latter just a snapshot of life in a one-horse town where the horse died. Both “keepers”; audiences like them. And I’m back as of this morning to wrestling with the Gospel song, “Is There Room Up in Heaven for a Sinner Like Me?” which I was working on before “One Gas Station” happened. Stan Good’s “The Next One” to record, too. Yes, this is all good—but before I get all excited about my productivity, I need to remind myself that this is only one month into the year and all sorts of things can happen.

Begs once again the question, ”Where does inspiration come from?” And once again, the answer is, “Almost anywhere.” The “Spend the End” song is of course prompted by the Mayan prophecy lots of folks have heard about, and everybody laughs about, and no one appears to be taking seriously—prompting the question, “Why not?” I don’t know if there are any end-of-the-world love songs, but if there are, it seemed like it couldn’t hurt to have one more. (And we have to wait until December 22 to find out whether the Mayans were right.)

And for “One Gas Station,” I have to thank the Manzanita parody rap group, “Dr. Iced-T and the Lemon Tarts”; the line in their Hoffman Center routine, “one gas station and an old folks’ home,” was one of those lines that just had to have a song to go with it, so it got one. (I e-mailed it to them. Hope they like it.) Note that I’d never have heard them if I hadn’t been at the Hoffman, and the lesson there is “Get out more.” I was asked today when I’d last done something new, and it was actually this past month—I‘m playing marimba, and I’m taking square dance caller classes. Both are “get out more” things, that put me in touch with completely different groups of people.

Getting out more also reinforces the Bill Shakespeare mantra: “Keep your eyes and ears open—the world is a very strange place, and people are very weird critters.” (No, Shakespeare didn’t say it exactly like that.) It is too easy to go through life with “eyes wide shut,” tuning out things because they’re familiar—but if you’re constantly exposing yourself to things that are new and different, you may look at the old, familiar things with fresh eyes. At least I hope so.

As far as where the songs come from (I always have to ask that)… I do detect a common, if not necessarily pleasant, thread. In one song, we’re envisioning the end of the world (and spending it in bed). In the other, we’ve got a snapshot of a community in decline. And in that unfinished Gospel song, we’re deciding belatedly we want to go to Heaven. Sounds like an expectation that things are going to get worse, doesn’t it?

One thing I can do with the recording of “Rubber Dolly” Daryl sent me is to add a couple extra tracks; I could add a lead guitar (the recording is pretty banjo-heavy—“Rubber Dolly” was a bluegrass standard as well as a rock ‘n’ roll one), and maybe a marimba. I think both (at least the former) would make it sound better. I need to get better on the marimba; I’m told I have a tendency to syncopate (a habit I picked up on the guitar, following other people and coming in a beat late when I figured out what they were doing), and on the marimba that doesn’t work well.

Kathryn was at the Rapture Room session Sunday night, and I got back the old digital camera—hopefully with footage for the video of “Blue Krishna.” Yes, another project hanging fire that now I can maybe finish. Caller class tomorrow; music Thursday and Sunday.

Joe

Saturday, January 28, 2012

"ONE GAS STATION" AND THIRSTY LION THOUGHTS...

“One Gas Station” is recorded and posted; link is http://www.soundclick.com/share?songid=11400173 Problems with Audacity (my first time trying to use it to record stuff rather than just modify it), so I used the Tascam. I think the Tascam’s buzz was coming from the “effects” unit, so I left that turned off (except when I wanted the guitar to “emulate” a bass) and used Audacity to boost the volume afterwards. The old unit may be usable yet.

For the video (I am trying to “think video” for every song), I’d like to shoot a bunch of photos of little Dodson, Oregon (pop. 50), birthplace of the Dodson Drifters. There is virtually nothing left of the town now, since the Forest Service bought most of it for the Columbia Gorge National Scenic Area after 1986—but the gas station, the 3-room schoolhouse, and Big Bob’s café are still standing (sort of—they’ve all been vacant for years), along with a few homes. We really did go play music every night at the café when the power went out (and if you’re playing every night, you will become good).

A “woot, woot!” I think. Denise Drake wants to come to the Thirsty Lion in Portland and play lead (on accordion) at the gig Feb. 14. This could be tons of fun. She is very good, and an accomplished performer; yes, I know performance, too, but I definitely sound better when someone else is playing with me.

This does change what I want to play. With accompaniment, I’m doing fewer songs, because they’re 20% longer when there’s lead breaks. Instead of seven songs, I’ll have six, or maybe five. I can do songs that I don’t usually perform solo, like “Armadillo on the Interstate,” because they have to have lead breaks because of the phrasing. And songs where it’s possible to have harmonies (“Armadillo” fits in that category, too)—so the setlist should be songs with choruses. It should be easier to make sure the setlist is songs the Thirsty Lion crowd hasn’t heard before, since all my performances there have been solo.

I still would like to stick to the “all love songs” theme; the performance is on Valentine’s Day, after all. I made a list (I like lists), and of the more than 80 songs I’ve written, 24 are classifiable as love songs (I could have more, if I defined “love” even more loosely). I should be able to extract five (six, if they’re short) from that.

How about (not in order yet, of course):

Spend the End of the World with Me—ragtime (and short)
Armadillo on the Interstate—slow & sleazy
Rotten Candy—fast Gospel (and also kinda short)
Dead Things in the Shower—fast two-step
In the Shadows, I’ll Be Watching You—slow two-step

The above list has death, lost love, betrayal, and dead animals. Still need religion to have the complete list. What do I have that’s relatively slow, religious, and still a love song? And ideally not serious: this is a bar, and bar crowds don’t need more depressing music—they already get enough. And they’ll remember (sort of) things that were funny.

The retired Nashville guy and his wife came (finally) to the Friday Night Group. Impressive, he was. I was sitting next to him, and since he was raising the bar pretty high for performers, I didn’t try to do the new “One Gas Station” song; instead, I gave ‘em the old Gospel song “Turn Your Radio On” (with Carol Ackerman’s harmonies), “Lost Highway” (which everybody there knows) and my previous new song, “Spend the End of the World with Me” (which I can do pretty good and which for some reason nobody has trouble following). Distributed flyers for the Feb. 4 open mike at the Arts Center, too.

Joe

Thursday, January 26, 2012

SQUARE DANCE CALLING, A SONG--AND A MOVIE?

Following our square dance meeting tonight (which included a short practice dance with me as caller) and caller class last night, I was told I’m ready to perform at a real square dance, Friday Feb. 17. Guess I better be prepared.

I did get from instructor Daryl music for my preferred singing call, Woody Guthrie’s classic “Rubber Dolly.” Apparently, nobody’s ever used it in a square dance before, so there is no ”stock” choreography—I’ll have to invent my own. (I did get some suggestions.) I expect as I accumulate material, I’ll be concentrating on old bluegrass and country tunes—the same sort of stuff I perform (and write). And I still want to adapt—or write—and record some of my own, too.

Square dance callers’ equipment tends to fall into two types. There are the people who still use 45-rpm records, and there are those that use iPods. The 45s are still in use not because those guys are old (at least three of my caller classmates are way younger’n I am), but because that old equipment is both extremely expensive and extremely durable, and keeps getting passed on as callers die or retire.

My caller setup is different. Its “engine” is “Lazarus” the laptop computer, and it’s built out of audio stuff I mostly already had. I’m proud (as usual) that I managed to put it together for very little money. I do need to make sure I can plug “Lazarus” into other callers’ PA systems, for the times when I go to other clubs’ dances and get summoned up on stage as a “guest” caller; I believe Daryl’s got both types of setups (iPod and 45-rpm record player) in his basement practice room, and I’ll take Lazz to my next class to check.

For music, I can download stuff (there’s both a square dance callers’ record company and a bunch of firms that sell karaoke music), and I can convert to *.mp3 files stuff from old 45-rpm records that I absolutely have to have. I’m not there yet. Like Daryl said, I need to get real good at just a couple things first.

There is reportedly a filmmaker who is interested in one of my songs, “Dead Things in the Shower,” co-written with Bobbie Gallup (she’s the one who knows the filmmaker). Don’t know what to think about this—it’s never happened before, and I have no idea what the results might be. We’ll see what happens.

I might have the last verse done for the “one gas station” song. (It needs four verses in part because “Dr. Iced-T and the Lemon Tarts” is a 4-piece troupe, so I wanted one verse for each of ‘em.) To wrap up (and end on a positive note), the last verse talks about the acoustic music at the coffee shop every night when the power goes out. That was in fact how the Dodson Drifters got started, years ago: playing music down at the local restaurant, because the power went out every night in the winter. I can send the song to the Coventry songwriters group, since it mentions strings—and they wanted songs about strings this month.

That’ll be my experiment recording on the laptop, too, since the Tascam is having noise problems. To try it out on a live audience, I’ve got four opportunities: Thursday night (Wheeler), Friday night (Garibaldi), Sunday night (the Rapture Room), and the following Saturday (open mike at the Arts Center). I’m primarily satisfied that I’ve got it out of my head, and can go do something else.

Joe

Monday, January 23, 2012

HOFFMAN POST-MORTEM--AND ANOTHER NEW SONG...

Packed house (again) at the Hoffman Center Talent Show; all the acts were real good, and this time none were on stage so long they became boring. Jane and I did “The Abomination Two-Step,” and she was right: it was a big hit. There is probably a market here for the “12 Reasons Why Joe Is Going to Hell” album (especially since host Lori mentioned it when introducing us).

There’s also a potential market for the Joe Songbook (people were asking about lyrics). That one, though, is harder to pull off. The 2009 Joe Songbook, in Acrobat (for distribution) and original PageMaker files (so I could keep adding to it), was on Alice’s old hard drive—I checked my “file” CDs, and I never did archive it, because it was a “work in progress.” Re-creating it from scratch is a lot of work—there are over 80 songs—and I’ve shied away from it. The photos especially are irreplaceable: they included a lot of photos from my week-long trip to Nashville in 2007 for the Pineyfest songwriters’ conference. Alternatively, I can have a ‘puter expert try to extract those files off the old hard drive; that will cost money, though—without any idea whether it will work.

I do have some songbook work to do anyway. The Joe Songbook was published in 2009; I have written at least an album’s worth of songs since then, and those need to be organized, too. And while I can’t use any of the “Alice” photo library for illustrations, I have taken a bunch of new photos—with my “videographer” and “news reporter” personae in mind, I make sure to take the new camera with me everywhere I go.

We (Jane and myself) were asked if we’d be playing at the Manzanita Farmer’s Market this summer (the Market is arranging their summer lineup), and we had to tell them if so, it wouldn’t be in the same form as last year, because 45 Degrees North broke up. Still, we probably could arrange something. Three hours worth of music—but they do pay, and it would be fun. I believe the little PA system would work for that, too.

“Dr. Iced-T and the Lemon Tarts,” a local vaudeville-type parody rap group that’s played the Hoffman Talent Show twice now, mentioned “Pole Dancing for Jesus” in their routine (and the audience noticed it, too); and for me, one line in their rap, “one gas station and an old folks’ home,” turned out to be one of those lines that needed (or at least will get) a song to go with it. I guess I’ll be returning the favor.

En route home from the Rapture Room (flood waters had receded temporarily so we could get there—Nehalem had been under two feet of water earlier in the day), I ended up with a chorus and a verse for the song, in complete enough form so I felt comfortable writing them down. It needs at least a couple more verses, I think (I think it got one more while I was writing this). Taken together, they’ll be a snapshot, of sorts, of life in a one-horse town where the horse died. (I don’t know if I’ll use that line in the song—but yes, there should be a dead animal or animals somewhere. How else would people know who wrote it? So there are dead chickens in the first verse.)

The music is a variation on the old traditional fiddle tune “Pig Ankle Rag,” but quite a bit slower, so I can get all the words in—and with extra beats, of course. The melody, if you can call it that, is almost a monotone (which would be perfect for the Lemon Tarts, if they ever wanted to perform it). It’s even got a tentative title—“The Pig Ankle Rap.”

Caller class Tuesday night, square dance meeting Wednesday night, music Thursday, Friday and Sunday nights. Still haven’t heard anything about the job, and I might not.

Joe

Friday, January 20, 2012

A "MAKING OF THE ALBUM" VIDEO?

Friend Eileen is planning a documentary on the making of the Sedona Fire album. Neat idea. I’d like to do one of those myself—of my next album. There are only two major time constraints: YouTube has a 15-minute limit, and anything on public television has a 28-minute limit. I’d want to break mine into smaller increments anyway—though I’d want to have a final product that would be coherent in 28-minute blocks, just in case. You never know where these things might go.

There are other people I could do the documentary on besides me—I know of one band that’s been slowly struggling for months toward production of an album—but I always prefer to experiment on myself first; when I do something for someone else, I like to know what I’m doing. I’d love to enlist a videographer to help, but I may well be doing the filming and production on my own. I do have the tools, and thanks to last year’s video class, the education as well.

I have seen “making of the album” videos by some other people. Mine will be different. I’m not going to be spending a lot of time in the studio recording (and therefore there won’t be much film of that); studio time costs money, and I have learned how to minimize the outlay of money. What I’d spend time (and film) on is what happens before and after.

The first step in making an album is picking the material. I said for the next album I wanted the fans’ input on what they’d want to hear, so I’ll send them a list, with links to the “draft” recordings of the songs, and see what they pick. I want roughly 12 songs on the CD (45-60 minutes of music), but I could go as high as 16 songs (80 minutes) if it were necessary.

Arrangements come next: what order the songs should be in, and what instruments I want playing on each song. I’m not limited to just the five pieces in the band; I can pull in other folks (and I know people who play a lot of different instruments). As long as I don’t go overboard, the cost will not be appreciably higher.

Next, picking a studio. I’d use Mike Simpson’s studio in a heartbeat, but I’m not sure it’s going to be available; if not, I’ll have to hunt—again. I’d want to visit several people, covering a range of options, and talk about the pros and cons of each one. I might want to include a visit to one of the Big Boys in Portland, just for comparison purposes. In all cases, I’d have the operators talk about how they do what they do (and with what equipment).

One thing I’d ask them about is recording the album “Patsy Cline style”—all the band together playing live. Some studios (and some operators) can do this, and some cannot. It is one of the biggest cost savings when you’re using a commercial studio, because you’re not spending time layering individual tracks. Alternatively, you can record an album yourself, and I’d talk about the costs and benefits of doing that as well. I’d compare prices—and timelines.

Practice. Patsy Cline’s band was able to do nearly everything note-perfect live and in one take because they’d practiced outside the studio (which cost nothing). This is the other big savings in recording. We pull into the practices any “outside” instrumentalists, too, if possible. And film it, of course.

Not much footage of the musicians recording in the studio; ideally, we’re not there long. However, I‘ll be talking to the sound engineer afterwards, as they mix and master, about how and why they do what they do. And play some of the results.

Post-production stuff: Designing the album jacket and label; finding a manufacturer (or manufacturing your own); “short run” production for the New Business Model. Figuring out how to sell the thing, and organizing the CD Release Party.

One reason to do all this—and to spread it out in several increments—is it builds attention for the album (and hopefully sales), when the album does come out. People who have been watching (and we hope there are a lot of them) know what’s on the album, and why, and how it got there; they have a greater sense of ownership, perhaps, because they have a greater understanding. And how many people know what goes into an album, big or small?

Joe

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

AND SOME WRITING THOUGHTS...

Ran across another of those “songwriting rules” articles, this one from one of the big song-contest outfits. I am bothered by hard-and-fast rules. Not only do I not work the way the article said to, I’m pretty sure a lot of famous writers don’t, either—their stuff comes out completely different than it would have if they’d followed those rules. I guess I won’t be entering their contest—not if they’re insisting the winning songs have to fit those rules. Mine won’t.

Unlike the song-contest folks, I am not going to claim the way I do it is The Right Way. There may be no Right Way. You have to do what works for you—keeping in mind that the bottom line is whether an audience is going to appreciate what you’ve done.

I hear music—I don’t write it. One of the legacies of growing up in the ‘60s is I hear music in my head 24 hours a day. I think of it as “the Soundtrack from God.” Most of that music doesn’t have words. That’s where I come in.

Pieces of that soundtrack will start to grow words, and I’ll try to freeze that piece of the soundtrack in place, and make it play over and over again. Sometimes, the subject matter will be deliberate; more often, it’ll be triggered by some event, or maybe a question I’ve asked myself. Yes, the lyrics will usually reflect something that’s going on in my life, but oftentimes I’ll be asking for days afterwards what it was.

I don’t try to pick out the melody on a keyboard; instead, I’m trying to sing what I hear. I’ll figure out what exactly the notes are later. I have a narrow voice range, so I’ll make adjustments to fit what I can do. In the process of singing it over and over again, I’ll be tweaking the words, making them fit better, making them not be redundant, making them easier to remember and to sing. Sometimes, I’ll have a structure in mind; I’ll know how many verses I want and have an idea what I want to get across in each verse. I will keep in mind a few rules of my own: (1) the result must express a complete thought, with no loose ends, (2) it needs to do that in 3-1/2 to 5 minutes, with and without a lead break, and (3) it has to be either saying something new, or saying something old in a new way.

The music for the chorus does not have to be different from the music for the verses. The operative question, according to some writers of “congregational” (i.e., church) music, is, “Is the congregation going to be singing along?” If they are, then the chorus should begin differently, so you can have a transitional measure or two at the end of the verse to signal the congregation that the chorus is about to start. Note they said “begin.” The music for the chorus should parallel that of the verses as much as possible, so that the congregation knows what notes to sing (because they heard them in the verses). Sometimes, my verses and chorus will have the same melody because (1) I’m not expecting the audience to sing along, or (2) I couldn’t find an easy way to start the chorus differently. And sometimes the chorus is completely different from the verses, because that’s the way it sings. Bridges? In my opinion, you want a bridge to cross a body of water you can’t ford, or dodge, or chevy. A lot of lyricists whose work I “musicate” put bridges in songs. I almost never do.

Then I’ll pick up the guitar. My voice range usually dictates what key the song is going to be in. I know enough music theory to know what notes make up what chords, what chords follow each other in logical progressions, and what notes transition from one chord to another. So I will figure out the chords. If I’m in doubt about a particular note, I have a cheap electronic tuner that picks up ambient noise, and I can sing at it, and it’ll tell me what note I’m singing. While I’m thinking (and singing) notes, I’m playing chords, because I will be performing this either solo or as rhythm guitarist in the band.

Next, a little housekeeping: Should the lead break follow the verse progression? Chorus? Something completely different? What will the intro be like? It is important that each song sound different. (In part, that helps me not get confused.)

And finally, I’ll test it out on a live audience. If they like it, it’s good. The only opinion that counts is that of the audience. If they request it again, it’s a “keeper,” and if they request it a lot, it may go on the next album.

And that’s what I do. It’s not what the “how-to” article from the song contest people said. It is closer, maybe, to what the hit writers do. Is it right? Who knows? I’d feel more confident about it if I were making money at it.

Joe

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

I BAILED ON THE PORTLAND GIG...

Bailed on tonight’s caller class and Thirsty Lion gig; hated to, but the roads to Portland are bad and near as I can tell will be getting worse—and county emergency management says a “real” storm is on the way. Eric has re-scheduled me for Tuesday, Feb. 14—Valentine’s Day. Told him I’d play all love songs. I have plenty.

Some video thoughts. Some of my songs are easier to script out than others. Some potentially easy ones are:

SPEND THE END OF THE WORLD WITH ME: I’d like to try filming just a clock, with a prominent second hand, ticking toward midnight; overlay the lyrics. I actually have several clocks like that. Could I use them all? Audio: I would re-record the music, mostly because I’d like a higher-quality recording. Just guitar and fiddle (again) might be enough. This one needs to go to market because everybody who’s heard it likes it.

THE STRANGE SAGA OF QUOTH, THE PARROT: I’d film this partly on the beach at Rockaway (where I found some big piles of driftwood), partly in front of the Ghost Hole tavern in Garibaldi. Audio: I’d give this one the Full Band Treatment—bass, drums, lead guitar, and blues harp. I think this election year, this one’s marketable.

THE DEAD SWEETHEARTS POLKA: I’d film this entirely on or near the banks of the Nehalem River (which is wide and deep, and therefore perfect for the song). Another one where I could overlay lyrics. Audio: When I re-record the music, I want an accordion for the “whiny” lead, to emphasize the “polka” aspect.

THE DOG’S SONG: I need about five minutes’ worth of footage of a hyperactive kitten doing hyperactive kitten things. (All the kittens I knew grew up too fast, including Aslan and Hansolo here at home.) For the dog, still shots of Amy, our late giant Doberman, unless I can find a large old dog willing to be filmed. Audio: Music for this one is done—it’s the Deathgrass cut, off the album.

POLE DANCING FOR JESUS: I need a pole (or poles), and dancers. A little outside footage in front of a tavern (I’ll hide the name); for the chorus, I would like a churchlike congregation—and in the final chorus, the dancers would ideally join the congregation. Audio: A full band would make this sound really sleazy (which would be ideal); one needs that heavy bass to give it a Gospel feel. This is the other real popular one, and should go to market for the same reason.

I can do all these myself (or with minimal help, of the “actor” or “hold the camera” variety). Accordingly, when I talk to videographers (I know a couple who are quite good, and there may be more), I should focus their attention on other songs, asking “What can you do with these?” The Arts Center videotapes performances, too—we’ll be videoing the next Open Mike, first Saturday in February—and that’s a good time to get footage of any songs where just a solo performance would be sufficient.

I’ve noticed that’s all that some of those grand-prize-is-a-music-video companies do—they simply film you playing. That’s okay—one simply needs to be aware that’s what one is going to get. It might be professional-quality, but it’s nothing particularly special. I’d like to get more.

Despite not being able (or willing) to travel very far in the Winter Storm, I have two verses (the second and third, I think) and the chorus to the Gospel song (tentative title “Is There Room Up in Heaven for a Sinner Like Me?”). I still need a first verse, to set things up, and a fourth one, to wrap things up. The redemption sentiments notwithstanding, it’s still got some tongue-in-cheekiness. I bet it can’t be performed in church.

Joe

Monday, January 16, 2012

SNOW! (&C.)...

Ah, snow… It is snowing furiously outside as I write this (I am inside); if it keeps up, I’ll go for a walk and take pictures. Snow was not fun when I was a kid in upstate New York; unless you liked skiing (I didn’t), 6-10 feet of snow on the ground for six months at a time got old really fast. It was a source of income for a kid—we didn’t make our money mowing lawns in the summer, we made it shoveling out walks in the winter, over and over again.

Since moving to Oregon in 1972, I find I enjoy snow; here, it doesn’t happen much, even in the eastern part of the state (where it’s cold, but also dry), and doesn’t stick around long when it does. On the balmy Oregon Coast, it almost never happens at all, so this is a nice novelty. I learned how to drive in the snow, but it is nonetheless nice to not have to go anywhere. Tomorrow, I have to go somewhere—caller class the far side of Portland, and the Thirsty Lion gig downtown—and I hope things will be quieted down enough so that’s possible.

Listened—finally—to the Sedona Fire album, The Spark, and it is extremely well done. A nice mix of original and traditional tunes, some of which we’ve played at the Rapture Room sessions, and some that we haven’t (and should). Their rendition of the old traditional “Wild Mountain Thyme” is, I think, the best I’ve ever heard. The last CD I actually bought was over three years ago (Delonde Bell’s Phoenix Door, also a great album), and I’m glad I got this one.

I believe the whole album was recorded in the Rapture Room, with Michael and Sedona’s equipment, and the result is extremely professional. Accordingly, I’m really interested in how they did it, and (of course) whether any of that professionalism could be applied to any of my stuff. I’m going to have to try recording on the computer—I’ve resisted it for a long time, but the Tascam is finally wearing out, I think: it’s got a persistent buzz I can’t get rid of, even when I record at deliberately low volume and then boost the amplification in Audacity. And the Tascam, like a lot of my equipment, is irreplaceable; it’s not made any more--hasn’t been made in years, in fact (yes, TEAC, the manufacturer, does have new versions, but they’re less portable and don’t do as much).

One thing one can do in Audacity (and in its more sophisticated, more professional competitors) is layer tracks, and it would be fun to do more of that. I can hear parts occasionally by odd instruments (“Ooo, I could put a trumpet there,” and such), and I know people who play those things, and even know where they hang out sometimes.

I know people who play accordion (regular and “Cajun squeezebox”), autoharp, cello, dulcimer, fiddle, flute, harmonica, marimba, mandolin, melodion, saxophone, electric and standup bass, trumpet, exotic and regular drums, and a variety of odd wind instruments, and they’re all very good at what they do.

And lest I get too consumed by my producer role, it’s important to remember that sometimes, minimal is better. When I did the Santa’s Fallen album, I was excited to have some of my songs done by a full band—but Dick Ackerman told me he liked the me-and-solo-guitar renditions of some of those songs (done on a 2003 album I gave away as Christmas presents) better. On the next album, I probably want to have one or two songs that have minimal instrumentation. (Another album? Yes. I’m going to be insistent about having an album out every year, taking my own advice: if you have a small fan base, supply it frequently.)

Which songs? Don’t know. I really don’t know which songs ought to go on the next album; I was going to ask the fans that—and then maybe ask them as well, “Okay, what instrumentation do you think would be good with that?” And see what kind of advice I get.

Caller class and Thirsty Lion Tuesday night; audition with Jane for the Hoffman Center talent show Wednesday night; music Thursday, Friday, Saturday (the Hoffman talent show), and Sunday. I suppose I should dredge up “Love Trails of the Zombie Snails”; it’s my only snow song (it’s about Antarctica).

Joe

Friday, January 13, 2012

ANOTHER THIRSTY LION PERFORMANCE?

I got invited back to the Thirsty Lion next Tuesday (Jan. 17)—short notice, but I can do it. I’m in Portland Tuesday nights for the caller class. The only thing that’d get in the way would be a job interview, if I do get called for one. This will be my eighth time there, I think. What to play? I like to do different stuff each time. How about:

Eatin’ Cornflakes from a Hubcap Blues—slow & sleazy quasi-blues
Spend the End of the World with Me—ragtime
Hank’s Song—deliberate two-step (starts slow)
50 Ways to Cure the Depression—folk-rock
Crosses by the Roadside—slow two-step
Meet Me at the Stairs—fast bluegrass

One song off the Deathgrass album (“Crosses”); that and “Meet Me at the Stairs” will give me the opportunity to push the CD. With these, I think I’ve covered all the standard bases—death, lost love, betrayal, religion, and dead animals. As usual, we start out with something slow and sleazy, because this is a tavern, and I seem better able to get tavern-goers’ attention with something slow and sleazy—and then we alternate fast-moving and slow-moving songs.

Got one new song on the list (“Spend the End,” which has been popular). I don’t know how many—if any—of the rest I’ve played at the Lion before; all but one of my previous Thirsty Lion setlists were on old Alice’s hard drive, and are now lost. It may not matter; except for host Eric, the audience may be different (or may not remember—it is a tavern, after all). Without breaks—and all of these songs work okay solo—those six should total the 25 minutes I’m allotted.

Poster and Rap are done; next, notices. Notices, like the poster, are set pieces—all I need to do is change the date.

An idea for the “Spend the End of the World with Me” video. We are told regularly that the Doomsday Clock is inching (or whatever clocks do) closer to midnight. Could we just film a clock for three minutes? I’d need one with an obvious second hand—maybe the Minnie Mouse clock?—and I’d want to film it close to midnight, of course (or adjust the time so it looked closer to midnight): maybe four minutes to midnight, so folks would be in suspense when the song ends. And then I’d just overlay the lyrics. Would that be interesting enough for the video? The only way to find out is to try it.

Good group of musicians at City Hall Friday; with music at the library on Saturday “on hiatus” for the forseeable future, a lot of the folks who were getting their music “fix” there are coming back to Garibaldi. From me, they got “Turn Your Radio On,” my favorite Gospel song (I love doing it when Carol Ackerman is around to harmonize), “Spend the End of the world with Me,” and “Pole Dancing for Jesus.”

There was one elderly fellow in the audience who said he was a retired rockabilly guitarist, and promised to come next Friday with his guitar (which I understand is a J-200 “jumbo,” like mine); I gather he was famous, once—which begs the question whether he still knows anybody in The Industry. Perhaps it doesn’t matter. I may have given up on becoming famous anywhere except locally, like I’ve given up on other things. I won’t stop doing what I’m doing, and what happens, happens. But I no longer expect miracles. In the same vein, I’ll not obsess any longer about that interim city manager job I put in for. If they call, they call—but I won’t wait on them.

Joe

Thursday, January 12, 2012

A JOB? AND "RUBBER DOLLY"...

Well. Got asked today what salary I’d accept for that interim city administrator job. Something might actually happen there. I’m trying not to be too hopeful about my prospects, but I have rehearsed how I’d go about the job if I got it. It is a performance, after all (that’s why I refer to these jobs as gigs); Ronald Reagan once called the Presidency “my greatest role” for the same reason.

I am fond of saying “I know people,” but as fellow songwriter and publisher Bobbie Gallup points out, “it’s not whom you know—it’s who knows you.” Had to find a wireless mike and a podium for Sen. Merkley’s appearance tomorrow at the Arts Center, and with some people’s help, I managed to locate and borrow both. The Garibaldi Lions Club has a podium, and Carol Ackerman had the wireless mikes (two of them) and transmitter. And I’ve baked cookies; I don’t know what the Senator is used to in his other public appearances, but if you’re doing a show at the Arts Center, there will be cookies (made by me), there will be coffee (made by somebody), and we will videotape the event, whatever it is. It is How We Roll.

Nine in the square dance caller class, enough for a square of dancers (to practice on) with one student left over to be caller, on a rotating basis. Instructor Daryl also does a very intense 5-day “caller camp” in the summer, and it’d be fun to go to that, but I expect to be up against the traditional time-vs.-money problem. If I have the time, I will not have the money, and if I have the money, it means I have a job again and won’t have the time. Instead, I’ll get as much as I can out of the weekly sessions—they cost me only ten bucks, a meal, and five hours’ round trip in the truck to way-the-far-side-of-Portland.

Daryl said we should all have a couple of “singing calls” practiced, for the times when we’re at other groups’ dances and we’re summoned up on stage to “do a tip” (I have seen that happen a lot). Singing calls, where you’re singing part of a (theoretically) popular song, and partly calling out moves along with the music, have 64 beats repeated seven times—most country music songs are, or can be, like that. The seven times gives you an “opener,” two “movements” by the “head” pair of couples, a break, two movements by the other (“side”) couples, and a closing. The opener, break, and closing are where the caller gets to sing part of the song—because the dancers are doing a move that will take time to complete.

So you need songs where you can skip more than half the words and it’ll still make sense. (There are quite a few modern country music songs like that.) One I know and can sing that’d be fun to do—not least because it’d be unexpected—is an old song, “Rubber Dolly,” by Woody Guthrie, which became something of a rock ‘n’ roll cult classic in the 1950s. It’s got a great beat, and very, very simple and repetitive lyrics—I think this was one of the songs Woody wrote for his daughter when she was young (he had quite a few of those). I’d probably have to record it myself; I doubt it’s in the square dance callers’ database (and I don’t really want to buy any of their stuff anyway—those things cost seven bucks a song), and I doubt there are any karaoke versions of it available, either. But hey, I have the ability to record stuff, don’t I?

Music Thursday night in Wheeler, Friday night in Garibaldi, and Sunday night at the Rapture Room in Nehalem. Next week: caller class Tuesday, audition for the Hoffman Center Talent Show Wednesday. And will I have to fit an out-of-town job interview into all this, too? I may finish that Gospel song yet…

Joe

Monday, January 9, 2012

STATISTICS (&C.)...

Blog statistics, again. (Gotta check occasionally.) Of the slightly over 5,000 people that have read the blog on blogspot (five thousand?), less than half are from the United States. The second-largest number of readers is from Russia (534). 73 are from Latvia, 69 from Malaysia, and 61 from China. I do hope those folks are not intending to learn English by reading my stuff. One person—I’m not sure from where—apparently ran across the blog while looking for a photo of a naked hamster (T.A.N.A.F.T., I guess—There Ain’t No Accounting For Taste).

Sorry, no naked hamsters here. Even the hamster in the promotional photo for the “Naked Space Hamsters in Love” song was fully clothed (he had a fur coat). The name does come from the song, of course; the late Sharma Kay gave me a domain name for my birthday the year I wrote the song (nakedspacehamsters.com), and while I never did use it (I still haven’t built that Website I keep talking about needing), I ended up using the name for the blog. Of such things is history made.

(The other two places I post the blog—songstuff and Facebook—do not keep statistics that I can tell. I know some people read it—some people who speak English, in fact—but I don’t know how many.)

With all the traveling (Portland once a week, and north to Wheeler/Nehalem twice a week), I have had opportunity for another song to develop; this one is turning out to be classic Gospel music, of the kind that really could be played in church. I suppose it could be an outgrowth of all the end-of-the-world thinking—if things really do come to a halt this coming December, would a lot of people suddenly find religion at the last minute? And would I be one of them? Maybe. The song might shock both the religious and the non-religious types that know me, but I wasn’t about to suppress the sentiments, whatever they were (and no matter how out of character they are); whatever happens, happens. At this point, I have one verse and a chorus, and probably need at least two more verses.

“Spend the End of the World with Me” is done, I think; link is http://soundclick.com/share.cfm?id=11351111. Jane Dunkin on fiddle, and me on guitar and “Miller bass” (the thing that sounds like a sick dobro). Everything, including the fiddle, was recorded in one take. The song seems to be popular everywhere; I was going to say I didn’t know why, but here’s a thought: People need, in these Troubled Times, to feel good about something, and there isn’t much around that one can feel good about. If, especially, one can show a “feel good” aspect to something bad, people may jump on it. The melody is happy—ragtime music is determinedly bouncy—and it’s difficult to get out of one’s head.

One complaint I heard about “Spend the End” was “But the chorus sounds the same as the verses.” Yes, it does. In my opinion, that’s okay. While the Nashville Rules do say choruses have to have different chord progressions than verses, thyere are an awful lot of popular songs, old and new, that don’t—it is, as Shakespeare said, a rule “more honored in th’ breach than in th’ observance.” I pay more attention to a suggestion I saw in some rules for writing congregational (i.e., to be sung in church) music: You want a chorus to sound different at the beginning IF you want the congregation to sing along. They also said you want your chorus as much as possible like the verses, so your congregation doesn’t have any trouble singing along. Now that makes sense. And I do try to do both those things. I didn’t figure most folks would be singing along with “Spend the End,” and thus far I’ve been right. That Gospel song, though? I think I should plan on congregations singing that one.

A “frabjous” moment: there is apparently one city I’ve applied to that is seriously checking me out. (First time in a long time.) I may know in a couple of days what (if anything) they want to do. In the meantime, I’ve got plenty to do to keep busy.

Joe

Saturday, January 7, 2012

THE NEW PA WORKS!

The little PA works! Ran a music clip from “Lazarus” the laptop into the “CD/AUX” ports on the little amp and it broadcast quite well. These are nice, powerful little speakers. I was able to do a voice-over with the mike, too, which is precisely what I need for square dance calling.

The whole thing—amp, speakers and (for when I need it) laptop—measures less than a foot deep, less than 18 inches high and less than 18 inches wide—very compact. There are cables—around 50 feet of speaker cable, power cable, and the odd cable that connects the laptop to the amp. The equipment, cords and all, fits in a suitcase I’ve got (a modern one, with wheels) and looks quite professional.

The 6-channel mixer (5 of the channels work) has its own cable from its “Line Out” port to the same “CD/AUX” port on the amp, plus its Japanese-to-U.S.power adapter. It does not fit in the suitcase; it does have a case of its own but the case doesn’t have any room for the cable and adapter. (I have a laptop bag that might work, though.) And of course I have cables for the microphone, which has its own case.

The speakers should have mounts; it’s easy to rig up hang-on-a-hook mounts, and those would work in a lot of situations, but I am going to need stand-alone floor mounts too. Mike stands with real heavy (and therefore stable) bases will work. (Made one—had the parts in the garage.) I suppose I could buy another—but I’d rather find a broken one I could get for free. I’ve been determined all along to put this setup together for as little money as possible. My only immediate investment has been the $10 for the speakers; I already had everything else.

Next step is to try it out. For the “concert” test, my best bet is to take the setup to the Arts Center and play through it, both with and without the mixer, and see what it sounds like; it would be nice to videotape myself doing it, to see (literally) how well the system fills a hall. If I could film myself playing a song for which I’d want footage to incorporate into a video later, so much the better. For the “caller” test, I’ll want to take the setup to a square dance session—I have a group of dancers that have offered to let me practice my moves on them, and instructor Daryl says I should be practicing with amplification to get the hang of it.

Square dance callers have this neat attachment on their mike cables that incorporates both an on/off switch and a volume control. Neat tool—but they cost over $100 from the only company that sells them. (Square dance callers are a limited market.) Could I make one? I have an adapter that has a volume control in it, and I can get the part I need to mate it up to my microphone (which already has an on/off switch) for under $10. Then again, I don’t really need it; I can control my volume the way I usually do on stage—by moving closer to or further away from the mike.

Music Thursday and Friday was good. I was told “Spend the End of the World with Me” is a “keeper” (nice when other people say that): audiences like it, and musicians seem able to follow it easily even though it’s ragtime. Fiddle part should get recorded Sunday. Then I can send it off to England, and then do the video.

I’d like the “Spend the End” video to incorporate some of the tricks I saw in the Angler’s Mail video, which was a nicely-done mix of still shots and film footage. Would be good to get some footage of both me playing guitar and Jane playing fiddle for that. The library may have Armageddon paintings I can photograph.

Joe

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

QUICK TO-DO LIST...

Quick to-do list:

FOR THE ARTS CENTER: This week: thank-you certificates for all the folks who donated items to the Big Fund-raising Auction. Include a fill-in-the-value-blank receipt for taxes, too. Get some 9x12 envelopes—we’ll need about 40, I think. I can hand-deliver the certificates on my “rounds.” On the radio with Tommy Boye Thursday morning. Next Monday, John Ramer’s new shop will be open in Tillamook; try to get more RAM for the Arts Center’s 1999-vintage PC. Write minutes from the Board meeting Jan. 2, too.

FOR THE NEWSPAPER: Wednesday, see Jim at the music store about the Jan. 21 concert in Beaver (no, I’m not playing there—I’ll be at the Talent Show in Manzanita); see if I can get photos of the place Friday or Saturday. See if the paper ever printed my Oasis Deli article. Thursday, interview and photograph the high school “speechie” who’s going to the U.N. Garibaldi Days meeting next Monday may be the focus of my column next week.

VIDEO: This week, check the Arts Center’s videotapes, and review footage from the last couple of Open Mikes; extract the footage of me if it’s any good. Extract from the PBS DVD a couple of duet tracks of me and Darrin. Add the Deathgrass cuts from the Wheeler Summerfest. Add titles and a Webcam introduction, and we have the “Here’s Joe” DVD. (Sounds very “voila!” but it will take a while because the computer is very slow processing this stuff.)

MUSIC: This week, Tsunami Grill in Wheeler Thursday night, Garibaldi City Hall Friday night, Tillamook Library Saturday afternoon (I think), and the Rapture Room in Nehalem Sunday night. All jam sessions, no gigs. Marimba practice Sunday afternoon, too.

RECORDING: Sunday, I’ll record Jane’s fiddle part for “Spend the End of the World with Me”; I also have a new Stan Good song to musicate and record, “The Next One” (yes, another apocalyptic number). “End” can get e-mailed to England as soon as the fiddle part is mixed in. The Coventry Songwriters meet Jan. 19, and it’d be nice to have something for them—I haven’t in a long time.

SQUARE DANCING: Caller class Wednesday night in Portland; poster for the March dance lessons to help design; meeting minutes to do.

INFRASTRUCTURE: New speakers are hooked up to the PA (finally); run the Dell laptop through the amp—if it works, it’ll travel easier than the Hewlett-Packard. So the Dell will be the Caller Machine. If the speakers work with the amp and mixer, that’s the “solo” PA. The little H-P laptop has been reconfigured so it’s no longer accursed with Windows Vista—but it has parts that don’t work: it has to operate with a remote mouse and remote keyboard, and with all that, it might as well get plugged into a standard monitor and stay in the computer room.

JOBS. I haven’t forgotten the need for a paying job. Waiting on responses from six applications, three of them city manager jobs and three not, but realistically what I’m expecting are rejection letters. I need to do something else—but what? That’s the other task for this week: figure out what.

Joe

Monday, January 2, 2012

SOLICITING GIGS...

There is a by-now-well publicized Craigslist ad from a restaurant soliciting free live music on a “Hey, you can promote your stuff” basis. It prompted an equally well-publicized response from a musician inviting the restauranteur to come to his house and cook dinner for free for himself and his friends, on a “Hey, you can promote your stuff” basis. On the one hand, I agree. On the other, as one 19th-century humorist said, not so fast.

I figure about half the places I perform I’m going to be playing for free. I subscribe wholeheartedly to the Biblical mantra, “The laborer is worth his hire”; a lot of time and effort got put into this “product” I’m going to display on your stage (and I hope it shows), and I do intend for there to be a payoff. On the other hand, were I the venue owner, I’d be telling me, “Look, you’re an unknown quantity, and I didn’t get this far in business by taking stupid risks. Prove you’re good for my business.” So I’ll play almost anyplace for free—the first time. If you want me back because I’m good for business, we should be discussing how much I’m getting paid.

I have run into a couple of “scam” venues, a restaurant/bar in Portland and a coffeehouse in Hillsboro, that were using the “we’re auditioning for paying gigs” trick to get themselves a constant supply of free live music; to my knowledge, neither of them ever hired any of the performers who ever played there. (The Portland outfit had the nerve to ask me to audition again, saying they had a new manager. My answer was still no.)

But it’s hard to answer the “Is this kid good for business?” question without just breaking down and playing there. Yes, I’ll promote the event as much as I can (though I have a “following” that doesn’t follow me around very well), and I’ll push CDs and the “joelist” when I’m there—and I’ll expect the venue to do its part, too, to encourage customers to come in because I’m performing. (I can help, of course. I know venues don’t have the expertise in promotion, and I do. I can provide posters, for instance. Just don’t hide them and not put them up like that place in Hillsboro did.)

One Bag-of-Tricks item that might make the “hire Joe” process a little easier is the DVD. There are now a couple of films in the Arts Center’s archives of Joe playing solo before a live (and generally appreciative) audience, and I can generate more—there’ll be another Open Mike at the Arts Center the first Saturday in February, and I’ll either play or host and play. I’ve got some duet footage with Darrin Wayne from our PBS TV appearance two years ago (I wish I had some of me and Jane), and I’ve got a couple of whole-song clips of Deathgrass from our Wheeler Summerfest performance last June. A “this is what you can get if you hire Joe” DVD is definitely doable—and I have a computer now that can copy DVDs.

So I’ll make some and try it out. One outfit I definitely want to hit up is the Willamette Writers Group; I played for free for one of their fund-raisers last summer, hoping (as noted above) that it might turn into a paying gig this year—but I bet their memories could use a little jogging. Ditto for the Neskowin Harvest Festival, the big annual fund-raiser for that little private school in South County; I’ve played there before but the people who used to hire me are gone now. And there are a bunch of small clubs up north that seem to book live music on a regular basis; I know a number of the musicians they book, but I myself don’t have a reputation like they do. Maybe the DVD will help.

An entire press kit, including a couple of promotional posters, a professional-looking publicity photo, and that “Joe Is Great!” brochure I’ve talked about before, that I could leave with venues wouldn’t be a bad idea. That’s another of Wrabek’s Rules: If you act like you know what you’re doing, people will assume you do. Not in the rulebook—but it should be—is: Follow your own advice.

Joe

MARIMBA PRACTICE (&C.)...

Happy 2012. It’s supposed to be a short year, ending December 21; we’ll see if the pundits are right. I’d like to put out an end-of-the-world album, but should do so early (just in case, y’know). I’m sure some of the writers I know will be coming up with good end-of-the-world songs, and I expect I’ll have a few more of my own as the year progresses. (I hope this is one of those years that progresses. I’m tired of going backwards.)

Practice with the whole marimba band this afternoon; ultimately, we’ll have two “soprano” marimbas (marimbae?), two “tenors,” orchestra bells (that thingie looks like a very classy xylophone), and percussion; bandleader Larry has a plank of some exotic wood he’d like to turn into a bass marimba, too. The music is starting to make sense. I probably know more music theory than most of the band—the result of having to learn the guitar “grid” because I couldn’t hear well enough to play by ear—and I think it’s going to help. To work on: making the hand movements on the marimba as automatic as they are on the guitar. (I want to get press-on letters to mark the marimba keys so I don’t have to keep puzzling it out.)

We’ve been practicing “On Top of Old Smokey,” which is a very simple 3-chord waltz; however, everything is easily transferable with minimal learning curve. Change it to 4/4 time, and the same progression becomes “Sweet Little Sixteen” or “Surfin’ USA” or “The Midnight Special,” depending on your age (and the marimba becomes a rock ‘n’ roll instrument); shift the progression 90 degrees (so it’s starting on the C instead of the F) and that 4/4 progression becomes the old bluegrass turkey “Wreck of the Old 97.” Change that back to a waltz, and it’s one of mine, “Twenty-Four Seven.” (Yes, I am hoping we will be able to do some of my songs down the road.)

The marimba is potentially a neat lead instrument, and I think I am knowledgeable enough now to be able to do a marimba track on a song. (I do not know if I am proficient enough. The only way to find out is to try it.) Recording one may not be possible—yet: my Famous Singing Mike will only pick up sound right next to the mike, and with a very narrow “cone,” and the marimba is a good five feet wide. My idea (not implemented yet) is to suspend a board under the marimba, where the resonator unit usually hangs, and affix one of those “tabletop” mikes that picks up vibration from a hard surface (in this case the board). At that point, the marimba would essentially be amplified—which would be good for concert purposes, too. Those tabletop mikes are a little spendy, and I’d like to wait to purchase one—until I have a job, maybe. I may still have a broken one in my Bag of Tricks and it may yet be reparable.

My other sideline project—becoming a square dance caller—is working, too; our class (of three—one of them a musician like myself) has been handed a lot of theory and it, too, is starting to make sense. I have a couple of “singing calls” to learn but I haven’t tried them yet; I want to master “patter” and theory first. Singing is not my forte, and I’ll be limited in what I can sing because of my narrow voice range—but one “artist” whose material I can sing is me (and again, I’d like to incorporate some of my stuff in my “routine”). I understand any song with a specified number of measures (and I don’t know what that number is but I can figure it out) will work for a singing call, and I just need to figure out which of mine would fit.

Two news stories—maybe three—to do for the paper this week, plus the column; caller class Wednesday night and music, I think, on Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Fiddle part to record for “Spend the End of the World with Me” and the Hoffman Center Talent Show to practice for. 2012 is starting out to feel almost normal.

Joe