"LET'S PUT ON A SHOW!"

Here’s another idea.

I have a co-worker with a very sick daughter, who’s going to have to have major surgery very soon (not here, but 300 miles away in Portland) for her not-very-rare-but-very-nasty-condition. City’s insurance will cover things about as good as insurance does these days, which is far from completely—and the operations the girl is facing are expensive. (Heck, it’s been expensive already.)

Some of us have talked about putting on a fund-raising dinner—next month, say, after the kid gets out of the hospital. My idea: why not have it be a fund-raising dinner AND DANCE?

I would like to help, and this is about the only talent I’ve got I can throw into the mix. Do I know enough people to put together an impromptu dance band? Maybe. There is, for starters, the Southern Oregon Songwriters Association, whose members include people proficient on bass, congas, keyboard, flute, harmonica, and guitars in a variety of styles. Some of them have even been playing together, something I’ve tried hard to encourage.

What’s in it for them? EXPOSURE. Some of them have regular gigs, some not, but those that do probably aren’t making much money at it. They can show off their skills (collectively, please), and also their material.

Only thing I’d want is for all of it (or just about all of it) to be DANCEABLE. Lots of good country, rock, and blues, with some slow dances and listening music thrown in (‘cause you can’t keep people dancing all the time). Maybe three hours’ worth. Is that doable?

Any of my tunes worth dancing to? A few; the ones I’d throw into a dance with a band are:

Eatin’ Cornflakes from a Hubcap Blues (medium slow swing)
One: I Love You (fast two-step)
Dirty Deeds We Done to Sheep (rockabilly)
Armadillo on the Interstate (another slow swing)
Rotten Candy (very fast two-step)
The Six-Legged Polka (which is—what else?--a polka)
Test Tube Baby (classic rock ‘n’ roll)
Hey, Little Chicken (medium fast blues)
Duct Tape (fast two-step)

But I wouldn’t want it to be just me. I doubt I’m even a good drawing card—not enough people know me in town yet. I’d want to be religious about even exposure for everybody—with us (or some of us) collectively being the band for each of us, maybe doing the Circle Thing with each person doing a song in rotation (which would prevent most everybody from leaving the stage).

SOSA has the sound system, too (though I could throw in a little amp, mike, and some cords). Venue? The Phoenix Grange, which has a big kitchen, dance floor, and STAGE.

Date for the event is going to be determined by (1) when we think we can draw the biggest and best crowd and (2) when the hall is available. And that will close some of the musicians out, because nearly everybody’s got day jobs of one sort or another, and/or other commitments. (Pulling off a big success, though, will net a bigger crew of musicians the next time.) I’d want to get into the hall a week early—daytime or night time doesn’t matter—to practice, just once.

Prior to that, we’d have the setlist—who’s going to perform what songs, and in what order—and everybody would have recordings of the songs and lyric sheets to work from. (I refuse to leave anything to chance.) Armed with that information, I could emcee—but so could some others, who are every bit as good front men as I am. Maybe we could trade off?

And of course, I could do the advertising. It’d be fun.

Shades of the old Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland “Let’s put on a show!” movies. Mickey and Judy aren’t bad role models for this stuff—charging into adversity with big smiles, lots of energy and misplaced confidence, and plenty of singing and dancing.

Lot of fun in a good cause—and potentially some good side effects, too. Want to get some of these good musicians playing together? This does that. Want to get them and their material exposed to people who wouldn’t ordinarily hear them? This does that, too. And it has the sideline benefit of bringing the community together for SOMETHING—and that’s something that hasn’t happened yet, and needs to. Maybe it’s an idea whose time has come.

Joe

PRACTICE WITH THE BAND...

The band is getting tight; Wednesday night we were able to do a couple of songs we’d never played together before (but that one person knew the words to), and have them come out note-perfect the first time (lead included), right down to ending on the same note. Audience included a couple of girls who were on their way to another club, and never made it there; they stayed all the way through our practice instead. I’m sure they’ll tell their friends.

I think of Screaming Gulch as “crossover” music. It’s not really country, though a lot of the repertoire is old bluegrass and blues numbers; it’s more like punk rock with a hillbilly patina. Very high-energy stuff. It’s good the band has two lead players—I couldn’t keep up on my own.

Which does beg the question, “What happened to the country music in this area?” This is (or was) the country; it’s only within the last few years the Medford area became a Little L.A. with the influx of wealthy Angeleno retirees, the doctors and hospitals (&c.) that cater to them, and the sky-high housing prices. But isn’t that a patina, too? Barely 25 miles from here, little Rogue River’s country dance (where I’ve been playing lead guitar) draws a consistent crowd, every Tuesday night, just like it has for 20 years.

I suggested to one fellow today the plethora of rock, folk, &c., music might be the result of the college kids (there’s both a junior college and a full-scale university here), and he allowed as I might be right. That’s the music the kids listen too, all right; at the Wild Goose’s open mike on Sunday nights, I’m usually the only one who plays any country music. (The kids listen just as raptly to that, however—but it might be because of the words. I am getting a bit of a reputation as a writer.)

But wait a minute—the kids aren’t the ones with any money. The adults have the money. So who’s playing music for the adults? I get the impression very few people are. Could be a big untapped market out there—and I sure would like to tap it. But how?

UPDATES: The recording of “Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire” with Dan Doshier on fiddle and harmonica is a hit. Next step—tomorrow: “Hey, Little
Chicken,” again with blues harp (and whatever else Dan wants to pull out of his music store). Did music for a Bill Robinson song, “Writing Country Songs”—he wanted a Jerry Reed imitation, and I gave him my best. Did it as a very fast talking blues, playing lead way up on the neck of the Strat (where the notes are closer together and I can hit ‘em faster). No indication yet whether he likes it. And I got to play lead on another of those Soundclick blues collaborations, and even got complimented, of all things, by people who play way better’n I do. They want me to write words to the next one, which I probably can do—words, not guitarmanship, is my strength. Wonder if it’s time for “Dead Squirrel Necklace”?

Joe

THREE WEEKS IN TOWN...

Here in Phoenix for the three weeks just before Christmas. So what do we do?

Well, there’s the country dance in Rogue River on Tuesday nights; musician crowd’s been a little sparse (which means my lead playing gets noticed more). Sunday nights at the Wild Goose. And practice on Wednesday nights with Screaming Gulch.

I think they’ve finally accepted me as a member of the band. It’s not just me, though, that makes them sound good: there’s a National Steel/dobro player hight Wayne who can really play that’s been sitting in with us, and he’s accepted as a band member, too. The two of us take care of the absence of a lead player. All the band needs to concentrate on is sounding tight—and they mostly do. There’s even an audience starting to show up on Wednesday nights to hear us. (Shades of the Dodson Drifters.)

It does help to play lead guitar at the dance on Tuesday night before practicing with Screaming Gulch on Wednesday night. Keeps me in practice. There aren’t many opportunities to play country lead around here.

“Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire” is recorded now, with Dan Doshier on fiddle and harmonica, rhythm guitar by me. Next week, we’ll try “Hey, Little
Chicken.” I did meet a cello player at Dan’s music store, so there may yet be a recording of the “Welcome to Hebo Waltz” with the cello part in it.

And I got invited to play lead on another Soundclick blues collaboration. I am nowhere near as good as the other guys, but it’s nice to be included.
Joe

GOALS FOR 2008...

A fellow songwriter suggested December isn’t a bad time to work up one’s New Year’s Resolutions—means you can start work promptly in January. He’s right. Here—maybe—is the start of the 2008 List of Music Resolutions.

First, what did I accomplish in 2007? Well, not nearly all (or enough) of the goals I set. I did manage to write an average song a month (more than that, in fact), and got 5 of the collaborations professionally recorded in Nashville at the Pineyfest Demo Derby. Entered four song contests (I’d planned on two), and took first place in one and got honorable mention in another. Beyond that, I’m no closer to having a new CD recorded, or a CD of the collaborations produced, and I haven’t got anything published. Good starters for the 2008 List, I guess.

Not in any order, as usual:

(1) Record the New CD. Still want a band, but maybe the way to do it is the same as last time—assemble an impromptu band of competent musicians, practice a couple of times, and walk into the studio and do it live. I have most of the resources—they just don’t all know each other.

(2) Publish. Bobbie Gallup is willing to use her Nashville publishing company for “Dead Things in the Shower,” which we wrote together, but hasn’t said about the other songs for the album. Start my own if she can’t (or won’t). Need at least a “shell” to make songs eligible for radio airplay; that’s how the game appears to be played.

(3) Work with a performing band. That’s “Screaming Gulch,” I think; their main limitation is they only want to do the fast ones, but I can live with that. I want to be able to deliver my material to the public both solo and with a band, and this’ll do it.

(4) Perform at the “Moograss” Bluegrass Festival. For that, we need a band that can travel—and that’s not “Screaming Gulch,” because they’re kinda tied to a local tavern. Maybe the folks from (1), above, or some of them.

(5) In the same vein, perform at the Wheeler County Bluegrass Festival and the Neskowin Harvest Festival. Follow-ups, in other words, on everywhere I’ve played before. Grassroots, too? Or should I try instead for a ”featured performer” gig at the NE Oregon Folklore Society—maybe with the Old Band?

(6) Attend Pineyfest 2008. More demos. Arrange (if possible) for a performance at the Bluebird Café.

(7) Enter at least two more song contests—concentrating, again, on ones I can win. Did good in 2007: won one, got honorable mention in another. Maybe in 2008, we should do the Jackson County Fair Talent Show and (if money permits) enter “Hank’s Song” in the Hank Williams Festival (I’d have to travel to that one on my own nickel).

(8) This ties into (1) above. A CD release party. At Johnny B’s, probably—and it’d be fun to do enough publicity to pack the joint.

UPDATES: I finally did connect with the Old Time Fiddlers Assn. (show in Medford), after six months of phone tag, and did join; they do run their shows like the Blue Mtn. Old Time Fiddlers, but BMOTFA did a better job. Still, did get to play with ‘em, and maybe next time I’ll try to sing something.

And I have one young guy (only one, thus far) who’s been coming to my performances and requesting “no One Writes Good Songs About the War.” One is good, I guess. A fan base has to start somewhere.

Joe

DIRTY DEEDS WE DONE TO SHEEP...

It’s done—great lead, bass and drum work by the Gemster. Good model for how it can be made to sound with a band. I have performed it in public a couple of times, but the rhythm guitar part is really sparse (despite being difficult for me to play)—it really does sound better with a band.

Second sit-down with Screaming Gulch Wednesday night. I think they’re ready to accept me as a lead guitarist. They’ll play some of my songs, but they’re really interested in the fast ones: “Bluebird on My Windshield,” “Naked Space Hamsters in Love,” and of course “Dirty Deeds We Done to Sheep.” They’ve a very high-energy band. Haven’t tried “Test Tube Baby” out on ‘em yet. Of course, I think they do a really good job on the slow songs, too, and a good third of the songs for the New CD are slowies.

Worked out the music (finally) for “Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire.” I finally just gave up on trying to do Mel Torme-style jazz guitar, and decided I might as well face the fact it was going to turn out country. At that point, the music got a lot simpler—and the song became performable. Did it for the crowd at the Wild Goose, and they liked it. I’d like to record it—but it really needs a clarinet or similar woodwind doing the lead. (I do know a flute player. I’ll ask her.)

I’ve got a job for another of the Southern Oregon Songwriters, too. Now that the cold is over, and I’ve got my voice back, I’d like to re-record “Hey, Little Chicken” with a blues harp doing the lead (and again, I know a blues harp player). With the new pickup in the guitar (which has better volume), I can probably keep the rhythm guitar to one track and have a track available for a lead guitar, too. If I can produce a good product with these folks’ help, it might stimulate ‘em to do more working together.

UPDATES: No trip to Nashville in January; they won’t do another Demo Derby session until next summer’s Pineyfest. A chance, maybe, to save my pennies.

Joe

PROTEST SONG...

The question was posed on line recently, “How come there’s no good songs about the war?” The quick answer is “Because no one’s been writing any.” There are rules for writing protest songs, and they’ve been mostly ignored. I decided instead of lecturing, I should just go write one, to show how it’s done. And while driving to see my fambly this weekend, I did that.

The rules, by the way, are simple. You don’t rant. You don’t even express an opinion if you can avoid it. You grab a good, poignant image and you beat people over the head with it and let ‘em come to their own conclusions. (People like jumping to conclusions anyway. It’s one of their favorite exercises.) And if you’re non-specific enough, you can avoid being rendered irrelevant by the evening news.

So here’s the song. It proves, by the way, that you do not have to have convictions in order to be able to express them. Remember, politicians do it all the time.

Oh, and I did answer the question, “How come there’s no good songs about the war?”

[4/4, mod. two-step]

NO ONE WRITES GOOD SONGS ABOUT THE WAR
--J. Wrabek

1.
When Johnny joined the Army, all the hometown folks wasd proud;
They hung his picture at the grocery store;
Now the picture’s edged in black, ‘cause he isn’t coming backAnd no one writes good songs about the war.

CHORUS:
About the war…. About the war….
Does anyone recall what it was for?
Send the kids off overseas, and they come home to rest in peace
And no one writes good songs about the war.

2.
Everyone remembers Katy as the girl who fixed their car;
She was gonna run the station when Dad got old;
Dad works the place alone since they sent Katy’s body home
And no one writes good songs about thw war.

CHORUS

3.
In the park, they’ve built a stone for all the kids that can’t come home;
It says we’re proud of them forever more;
They wrote the names real small, so they’d have room to list them all
And no one writes good songs about the war.

CHORUS

REPEAT FIRST LINE OF FIRST VERSE TO END

©2007 J. Wrabek dba Outside Services Ltd. All the usual rights reserved just in case.

I did perform the song at the Wild Goose Sunday night, and wasn’t sure anyone liked it. Did hear Tuesday night, when I went to a new open mike in Ashland, from one young fellow who said he did. And did hear there a would-be Dylan (complete with the harmonica and Afro), doing protest songs that weren’t any good—because they were rants. Might be some point to the song after all.

ABOUT PROMOTION...

I was going to talk about writing (I’m working on a “here’s how it’s done” protest song), but let’s talk promotion instead. I don’t know much about promotion—just learning as I go along.

I’ve done two solo gigs in this area thus far; both went well, and the venue owner wants me back (good), but I’d like to increase the size of the crowd. That’s kind of my responsibility. The venue owner, bless him, doesn’t know marketing. An ad in the paper (and it probably wasn’t a big one) probably doesn’t cut it.

And he’s not alone. There are a bunch of venues in this area that are attempting to improve their bottom lines by scheduling live music. It’s a good idea, and obviously the independent musicians (like but not limited to me) are interested. But the crowd’s gotta show up or it’s going to be perceived as not working.

So how does one reach them?

Well, start with the fans. I do have some fans; never added ‘em up to see how many there are, and I’ve never stuck their names all in one place so I could tell ‘em about upcoming gigs (for instance). Maybe the first step is to do that. Next gig, send ‘em all an e-mail saying “C’mon down and bring your friends.”

Posters. I can design posters (did one for the last gig), but one’s gotta do something with them. It’s not enough for the venue to have one in the window. In some towns, you’ll see concert posters up on every downtown light pole and wall (and my poster should join them), but in other towns, you don’t see any—maybe city ordinance, maybe just local culture. In those latter towns, maybe the route to go is hit up the music stores, give them a poster (and maybe also a CD to play).

It may not be enough, though. I appeal to a niche market (can you say “original” and “country music” in the same sentence?). I don’t see them, but I’m sure they’re there—Medford may have 100,000 or so people, but there are still square dance clubs, and an old-time fiddlers association, and the biggest concert act to come to town this year was a country-music band. Most of the musicians I know are frustrated folkies or would-be rockers, but I may just be hanging with the wrong crowd.

So that’s the next challenge. How to identify the people who ought to want your music, so you can tell them that it (and you) exist.

UPDATES: The practice with “Screaming Gulch” actually went well, and I think they want me back. New venue—a coffeehouse in Central Point, 10 miles north of here; Southern Oregon Songwriters did a “showcase” there, and it drew a big crowd. Owner said he didn’t like country music, but ended up complimenting me on one of my songs. Had a band to play with (lead guitar and mandolin). This week, there will be music Sunday night, Monday night, and maybe practice Wednesday night. It’s really time to go into the studio, but I don’t think I have a band ready yet.

Joe