"TASTE OF TILLAMOOK" (AND OTHER STORIES)

The "Taste of Tillamook" is this weekend. It's basically a food festival–this area is known for its seafood and cheese–but since its first year, they've also featured live music, the idea being that attendees (who are expected to be mostly tourists) should "taste" local talent, too. This year, there will be ONLY ONE LOCAL BAND. They're a 50s rock band (the band members are in their 50s), and they are very good–but ONLY ONE? And this showcase is being put on by our own tax-supported County Economic Development. It does seem that some re-education is in order.

There are two main reasons why a local outfit like this doesn't book local talent. Either (1) they don't know it exists, or (2) they don't think it's any good. Both are soluble problems; solving them does take some involvement and promotion. (Do I have to look in the mirror AGAIN?)

Since the people organizing the "Taste" this year are all new, it's quite possible they don't know. You make sure they're confronted with the information constantly, and from all sorts of directions. They should get free tickets to the "Moograss" Bluegrass Festival, the "Birding and Blues" Festival, the summer "Bluegrass on the Beach," with "you gotta see" emphasis on the local talent. They should get flyers from every band and every artist that's playing a local venue, and flyers from the venues, too. The local recording studio guy should notify ‘em regularly who he's recording–and the people being recorded should make sure County Economic Development gets copies of their CDs.

It's also possible that the "Taste-makers" don't think local talent is any good. That's the "Nazareth Syndrome," so called after the folks in Jesus' hometown who didn't think he was important–how could he be? He was the carpenter's kid. Changing that attitude is harder, because those people have to convince themselves they're wrong (with your help, of course). They need to see (and hear about) local musicians packing venues, and venue owners saying how good it is for business, and audience people gushing about how good these guys (and girls) are. Over time–and sometimes it takes a long time–the attitude can change.

And yes, if I help with it, I'll get noticed, too. Like the late John F. Kennedy once said, "A rising tide lifts all boats." (Well, at least the ones that don't have holes in them.)

UPDATES: Another e-mail call from that California music publisher, this time for songs inspired by art. It's a reach (and she admitted it was a reach, but will listen), but I've sent her "Twenty-Four Seven" (inspired by literature–specifically, cliches), "When I Jump Off the Cliff I'll Think of You" (inspired by a local sculpture with no head, no arms, and no legs), and will send "Dead Porcupine Rag" (inspired by the locally-popular "art" that consists of dead-animal heads hanging on the wall). What I can't do very well is produce "radio-ready" recordings out of the Garage Studio–the facilities and equipment are too primitive, and I'm not good enough at running them.

I did find on the computer an arrangement of the "Cliff" song that had been done some time ago by a performing musician I "met" online (he calls himself "The Lone Arranger"), which I'd forgotten about, and which is quite good. He'd sent me two mixes, one with lead guitar and one without; all I need to add is my vocal (or vocal and lead guitar), and I'll do that and send it to the publisher, too–making sure he gets credit for the work.

"Oil in the Cornfield" may have a reference track to work with by as early as Sunday; I'm still working on "Tugga Paw," the Swedish lyrics I'm setting to country music; Swedish pronunciation is hard, and my lyric sheet is now peppered with cryptic phonetic notes like "the hair in my bra" and "Barbie desperate." NO WORD from "Prairie Home Companion," and I'm not really surprised–I got the same response (or lack thereof) when I tried to pitch the "Duct Tape" song to PBS' "Red Green Show." The Big Boys in the entertainment business are just too insulted from any outside input (they woulod probably be inundated with it otherwise), and I'm not big enough or important enough to make enough noise to get their attention.

SO WHERE'S THE WRITING IN ALL THIS?

All the above has been devoted to RECORDING and MARKETING. Where does WRITING enter into all this? Well, it has been a dead spot, and one of the things I do to cure dead spots is Do Something Different. I spent a couple of days on line, entered a parody contest with a tight deadline and found a "Write a St. Patrick's Day Song" competition that prompted a sleazy blues number that I may never be able to perform in public but is fun to write anyway. I'll go to the regional city managers' conference end of the month, and at least one city manager I know is bringing his guitar; I'll be gone three days. It's only a 160-mile trip, but I'll be sure to leave the radio off in the car.