Author: Luke

on by

A big storm passed through LA yesterday. It kind of ravaged this desert city. I heard that an inch came down in a couple of hours. The streets became rivers, rushing downhill almost over the edges of sidewalks, and the drains to which all water rushed were big loud vortexes one would not want to slip into. Especially while unloading a guitar amp.

I witnessed all this as I was loading-in for a show at the Universal Bar in L.A. (It’s called the Universal Bar & Grill, but for some reason my pride allows me to play bars, but not bar & grills). The rain made the load-in more exciting than usual.

This venue was on the shore of the LA river in North Hollywood, which is not really as rustic sounding as it could be. At that point the river is a concrete slough and last night it was really raging, with no trees or grasses to slow it down. The rain was relentlessly dumping.

There was something kind of charged to the atmosphere outside and inside of the bar. Red light mixed with black lights and a cozy warmth. The smell of damp jackets and beer. Everybody had braved the elements a bit to make it out, and, as only some bars can do, it felt like THE place to be in case of emergency. So it was good. People were happy, the previous bands put on a great show and brought in a good draw and all was well.

We (as Midnight Door) played with abandon, as has been the case for all three of our shows thus far. Last night I felt even more the need to exorcise, and the feelings behind the songs felt pretty spot-on to me in my life. Being emotive wasn’t particularly difficult. More importantly though, the small crowd was TOTALLY into it , which is something that you can feel viscerally on stage. It is important and amazing when a crowd is wrapped up in every note… you can be exponentially more interesting and interested as a performer.

Then a rainy drive through Hollywood, which, at the risk of sounding like a farmboy, still impresses me greatly. I don’t know what Hollywood is or means, but it has a certain energy and excitement in its present that just being near is undeniable.

My brother came all the way up from Orange County and drove me to the gig and back which was amazingly cool. And my girlfriend as usual was present and super-into the whole thing, including carrying heavy equipment. Some good friends showed up for a meet up at the bar before and after, and my new partner in musical destruction Tripp played drums so excellently as only a pro can.

The night before, Saturday, we played in Echo Park at Pehrspace, which is this cool, funky venue that sits inside of a strip-mall type area. On both sides there are tiny hispanic churches whose buildings would be equally fitting for a laundromat or a travel agency.

Pehrspace is run by incredibly sweet and kind people whose real purpose seems truly to be allowing for art to happen. The opening band was a duo of drums and synth/beat/sounds and they brought a bunch of their super supportive crowd out. It was really great party jam music with thick beats mixed with urban psychadelia, and their drummer played live with a fury and a precision that is very difficult to pull off with electronic stuff.

There weren’t a whole ton of people there, but the ambience was supportive and great and wide open and so we just rocked it out. To tell the truth, circumstance made it such that we didn’t rehearse prior to the performance, but I had a feeling we could pull it off and we did. It was great. I was sweaty and sore after.

So now as is the usual though I just try and filter out what it means. To play great shows for a few people. To not actually have anything booked. It’s a mix of accomplishment and what now? It feels good and bad at once. I want to play more shows and reach more people and just, be able to do that. And that isn’t always easy to do. Ideally some clarity will come about, some natural career-ish evolution will become inevitable, and I will not have been spinning my wheels on a stationary device. Regardless, it was good great fun, and a solid workout to boot!

on by

I’ve always been the “passionate” cellist. Early on I probably leaned into the strings a bit heavily to overcome my lack of practice. I might have even used the “I am passionate” card as a justification for not practicing as much as I should have (I never practiced from age 13 until college, I would show up at the lesson and class and sight. I’m not proud).

I still am the passionate musician. My music requires it, and I’m more than happy to be that person. Um, you know, I’m still not the world’s most fantastic cellist in general, especially not technically, but I can hold my own. I have technique now, I get it, I work it. I practice!

But I BELIEVE in feeling and passion in music and I will until the day that I die. I can’t stand dry flat deliveries (hello most indie rock of the last several years).

And yet! And yet… I have noticed this thing that is important, and I have noticed it especially when I know I will have to get on stage and perform, and it is this: a little less feeling, a little less bombasticity (now a word), a deeper breath or two, and yes, a few more thoughts given to the angle of the bow and the curvature of the fingers really really helps. It makes the passion come through in a more sophisticated way.

via CELLO. LESSONS! – Once more, this time with less feeling..

on by

Played a show in Echo Park yesterday and the little room at the little cafe was nice and close and intimate and good and the daylight shone through the window which is not all that common for a music gig. Improvised set means you don’t have any basis for judging the performance. Actually, you never do.

I have two gigs coming up this weekend. Didn’t mean for that to happen, that’s usually a no-no, even in a big city, because you you know, use up all your pulling people in power. To be honest I don’t have a ton of that at the moment so every show played out is a chance to reach people. I’m… well… I hate to admit this but I’m desperate to play more. And so if someone says “will you play?” I say “Yes!”, no exceptions (almost).

So I’ll be revisiting Tomorrow Was, which is good. Playing through those songs, which are still full of a meaning I don’t even know that I understand yet. I’m happy to stick around with them a bit, though I’m always anxious to write and create more. Perhaps now that I’ve split my persona in two (Midnight Door and Luke Janela) I can write under one and continue on with the other.

Spring is really here. LA is so ridiculously lovely weather-wise, to the point that it creeps me out at times. I loved the big and rare storm that roared across the basin and blew down my wind chimes. It is essential that break, that chaos.

Anyways, the point is that I will be practicing this week. And that will be good.

on by

Today I hope I can inspire myself to put on a few sweaters and brave my little studio. I actually really need to, I’ve got a show tomorrow and two the following weekend. And in the midst of that I’ve got some other “real world” responsibilities that are pretty pressing, needing my every bit of extra attention.

I will be working on this ambient set that I’ve been performing for a long while now. Beats + Cello + Effects.

The Process?

I write the beats first thing. I’ve always been a fan of big beats and while I can’t say I am any kind of expert, I enjoy the act of creating beats. I don’t use canned beats (Canned beats are free-to-use beats that somebody already wrote and recorded a sample of, for anyone to use).

Most of the “songs”are quite free-form, and I enjoy that freedom. It’s like electronica/jazz, that openness. But a lot of times I will, no wait, I always decide on a key initially, whether it be b minor or C Major or what-have-you. Sometimes if I can think that far in advance I’ll go modal, though really if anything I play in Dorian and tend, sadly, to not explore the other modes too much. Some of these “songs” over the years have in fact developed their own melodies or themes, and so, in that sense they are not completely improvised. But after those things are out of the way (beats + key + theme) I just see what happens.

The most difficult thing about that in a live context is self editing. It doesn’t take much at all for one of these songs to turn into 30 minute self-aggrandizing tombs. It’s extremely important to try and think quickly and move forward quickly, in my opinion. I’ve seen far too many musicians wanking over how awesome they are for too long and I don’t want to be that guy. A helpful thing for me to keep in mind is that less IS indeed more. In fact that is sort of a mantra I repeat over and over as I perform (less is more… less is more…). I think Miles Davis is the master of that and everything else, and I can’t count how many times his face has popped into my head while playing as a way to remind me to let things breathe. It’s a startling vision that snaps me back sometimes.

That’s the process. As technology has changed the process has changed, the performance has changed. My first attempts at doing things this way was in Portland playing some random loft parties. I had my trusty Korg Electribe ER-1 and a delay pedal. I played loud and feedback was rampant. It was great!

Music device fiends: My favorite favorite thing about the Electribe is its “audio in” feature, which is hard to describe in words, but allows you to create a rhythmic pattern for your external input to actually be outputted… So that the notes I play on my cello beep through with the beats in a set pattern. It is a nice sci-fi sound that makes it sound like more than one instrument is playing. I am bummed that so far the electribe is the only device I’ve found that does this. Even software like Ableton doesn’t have this feature. You can hear that effect in “Everybody Is Dreaming“, it’s the synth sounding rhythmic noise going on throughout, especially audible for the verses.

The Electribe is still with me, even though I don’t really need it. I’ve found a way to integrate it via midi into my current setup. My setup is not all that different now, I just use my laptop with Ableton Live + Electribe + Effects Pedal + Keyboard Synth + Launchpad.

Using a laptop live does have its drawbacks… 1. software glitches and computer malfunctions (they happen, I can attest) 2. It’s your laptop, which, in my case, is the most valuable thing I own second to my cello, so that’s not ideal to have on a stage at a club, but in the end it takes a solo act to levels probably impossible otherwise.

So yeah, time to stop writing and go practice! Maybe I’ll record some snippets and post. Maybe!

on by

Seth Godin is a universal delight. This is a topic I’ve been kind of obsessing over, whether it matters to please everyone (you know the answer).

Invisible is an option, of course. You can lay low, not speak up and make no difference to anyone.Thats sort of like dividing by zero, though. Youll get no criticism, but no delight either.

via Seths Blog: The mathematical impossibility of universal delight.

on by

There is no set career path.

You can blow up big and be gone from the scene in less than a year. You can trudge away for years and years and that does not by any means guarantee or even increase the odds of a “promotion”. You can start off playing punk clubs and end up at the county fair. You can become a huge hit only playing people’s living rooms. What that does to the psyche is simply that there is no career guidance that fits for every musician. There are very few things you can share with each other as musicians that sort of point to the “proper” way to go about being a musician.

The paradox of taste.

Most of the bands that I adore also have people who adore them, but were I to lift the needle off of “Baby Baby” and drop it on a song I will eternally love, say,  “Drunken Butterfly” I would likely be pummeled with scorn. Faces would contort. So that can be an odd feeling, knowing that some people love in a real way the music you make, where as others actually, sincerly, hate it. I imagine that is even more weird but probably less concerting the more popular you become.

The Endless Crescendo

Career wise and/or skills wise, there is never a point where you put up your feet and say “I am finally a ‘good enough’ violin player”. Inevitably there will be another goal to push through. You might play your dream show with your favorite bands and most likely that will inspire you to think “this is only the beginning”.

More of these to come. If you are a musician let me know yours.

on by

Well, oh well.

This blog was once a place where I would sit and write about life, because life and music were intertwined. I think I felt like I needed to become more distant, more cool, in order to be a successful musician, because that is how most bands that come to mind present themselves. Also I just wasn’t sure it was appropriate to be personal here of all places.

But with tumblr and facebook and my “official” site, there are plenty of places where I can act like I’m cool. Here I am reclaiming as a place to just write. If you don’t like it, I’m not sorry to say I really don’t care.

Smiley face.

There’s a lot of catching up to do… I moved to Los Angeles after all! The short story is L.A. is not a bad place. The long story to be written at some point may indeed be that I don’t know where I fit.

I’ll stick with right now, to bolster my sense that writing like this is right.

Right now I spent the day cleaning up this blog. I played some old songs on guitar. I’m really lying. I updated my resume. Music is wonderful. But in reality I can’t feed myself with it yet. Not even close. And so I’m at another crossroads in my life.

I won’t go into details, because one thing I will not do with this blog is pump up the jams at my pity party.

Right now it is almost Spring. I LOVE Spring. Every year I act like January and February do not terrify me, because of the depths of introspection I tend to go into… and every year I come out of those months unable to believe that I couldn’t protect myself from waves and waves of Winter’s big… feeling. Big feeling. The Big Feel. That is what January and February are to me.

So: here is a toast to re-invigorating this blog. Which, if you look at the archives, has always been remarkably honest.

In the next few posts I’ll catch up on what has all been going on in the past two or three years.

In the meantime, welcome back, I’m really glad to have you here.

on by

It’s been a while since I have practiced Bach. It kept getting put aside because I had my own music to prepare and also because well, you know, I fell off the wagon.

Today I jumped on the wagon as it bounced and barely rolled along on misshapen wheels.

And I just had the simple revelation while playing that pretty much EVERY TIME I have sat down in my life to play a Bach Cello Suite thingy I have begun with the statement in my own head: “This is really difficult”.

I mean, it is difficult. But why state the obvious? Why make that the thing that begins every measure? I’m not saying that instead I should say “This is really easy”. If only. If only that were the magical cure to everything. I could get used to that.

I’m just saying maybe it’s time to acknowledge the intricacy, but instead of fixating on it, to keep in mind “let’s do this” instead. It’s a different mind set.

It’s more fun. And I played better. So. Time to try applying this in other areas of life I think.

One last thought… the other idea I noticed has lodged itself like a weed deeply rooted in my mind while playing is “other cellists can do this better”. Again. Duh. Yup. No argument there. So WHY fixate through every note on that thought?

The answer? No idea. But maybe just fixate on every note as much as possible. Not the idea that someone else can play it more rad-like.

Here’s the piece I play (and is standard repertoire) and this is most definitely not me, just one of the better youtube versions I’ve found:

 

on by

The other day I had a freak out over my posture with the cello. Was my cello at the right angle? Was my posture producing the best sound? Was it what I was supposed to be doing?

Posture is… well… it’s the basic of basics with playing cello. You generate power in your bow arm, you encourage your fingers to dance rather than trudge, you can play for a long time without fatigue, you don’t develop tendonitis as easily, it’s the basic of the basics.

So how could I, after all these years of playing, be questioning the basics of the basics yet again? How could I not have this figured out yet?

At the time I chalked it up to being a bit frustrated with my playing as of late, not feeling confident with the music I was working on.

But I think now, a couple days later, that it’s because it’s ok to question the very basic elements of our endeavors, of our lives even.

How do you walk? What does your gait say about you? Is it good for your back? What does your smile project? How do you say your name when introducing yourself? How often do you tell those you love that you love them? Do you look into people’s eyes when talking to them?

These are the basics. And I think it’s important to return to them as much as is necessary. We are always re-learning the basics.

on by

There is something so very critical about repetition to the brain. Repetition is my only rock-solid method to realistically and successfully take on big challenges. I also value repetition as a way to get the little but important things done.

I’ll get to how repetition applies to the cello in a few paragraphs but since I must not have read my last post (“get back to it“) and have been traveling recently and meeting lots of new people, I have a non-cello example that shows how valuable repetition is, it involves introductions and names.

I hate to admit it but I am terrible with names. It is such an awkward and lame trait to have. I think it is probably more common than is let on so I try not too feel too guilty about it. I try to cope or be honest. I have learned to say “I’m sorry, what was your name again?” within the early stages of meeting someone as opposed to having that mortifying moment of uncertainty upon meeting them a few months down the road.

It’s not an ideal way though. At this family wedding I recently attended I was swamped with dozens of new names to learn. A new friend was talking about how to remember names effectively and it works so well! You guessed it, repetition.

“When you meet someone, say their name out loud as many times as is natural in the course of conversation, try to say it at least three times. You won’t forget their name from there on out.” It’s like magic for me!

I should have known this. With cello and with life, repetition is the only way to tackle a large piece of music, to inspire a new piece to come about, to get past technique and into feeling.

I will post about my tried and true method: “How To Practice” in the near future, but, spoiler alert, the basic building block is repetition.

Take a new piece. Play the first several notes. Stop. Repeat. Move on to the next batch of notes (measures), repeat. Now go back to the beginning, repeat the first few notes again. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. It sounds tedious. But it isn’t. Repetition of small tasks is like having a 50 shelf organizing system in your closet instead of just a hanger and a hamper. It’s efficient.

So, if you are facing a monumental task: a speech, starting an exercise routine, learning a new piece, beginning an instrument, starting a diet, studying… I suggest breaking the big task down into tiny little pieces and running through them and repeating.

I know this is not the revelation of the century, in fact it’s really just common sense. But you wouldn’t believe how useful it has been for me to become aware of the value of repetition.

on by

I’m starting a blog series called “Cello Lessons”. The idea is to take the lessons I’m learning by playing cello everyday and relating them to other aspects of life.

Having discipline is good, maintaining discipline is even better. I’ve gotten to a point where taking a day off of practicing cello feels like a vacation, especially if I am busy, or as is even more often the culprit I just don’t “feel like it”.

It’s fine to take a break from routine. I’m of the mind that if I need a break I need a break. I’ve had a lot of sessions that were just bad before I even started, and continued until any gains in technique and finesse were mitigated by frustration and impatience (more on this in another “Cello Lesson”, I also happen to believe there is a time to push through).

The problem happens when that day off turns into two, and then there is a big holiday or life just happens (as it tends to do) and now you’re into a stretch of non-action.

Getting back to it is the thing though. Today I’m getting back to it, truly kind of worn out from a long weekend and a hot long day. It’s the re-establishment of routine that matters. The question is, how to convince my wily mind to actually do it?

I tend to feel like I’m collecting feathers on a windy day, after a week or two of solid practice I’ll have a good collection and then a big wind and whoosh I’m back to where I started. There are probably other better metaphors*, building a sand castle right at the edge of the waves, painting clouds… whatever.

Really though there IS a gradual growth that happens, one that a strong wind can’t blow away.

I happen to believe that a day or two, or even a week off (if it comes to that), can be a good thing. I think the brain needs to process things. A great episode (from a fantastic show, Radiolab.org) on sleep kind of re-affirmed this for me: http://www.radiolab.org/2007/may/24/sleep-deprivation/

What I took away from the episode is that there have been studies that imply that musicians in particular can benefit greatly by letting the music rest overnight and returning to it the next day.

I notice that when I return to playing after a week off there can actually be a fluency to the techniques I’d been working on. I actually can’t preach that this is due to my brain processing technique in the time off as much as that I am simply not as self-critical upon returning. I’m usually amazed that I can still play halfway gracefully. I’m not constantly questioning whether my elbow is moving in an elliptical shape or not. It happens on its own it seems.

So, get back to it. The pain of having to work your way back up to where you left off will not be as bad as you think. You might even be delightfully surprised that you’ve improved in your time off.

*(oh yeah, Sisyphus, there’s the better metaphor! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sisyphus)

on by

It’s suddenly spring in LA, at night the jasmine smells waft over the city, people are taking off their sweaters that were in use for 2 weeks, and everything is growing in a lush way.

I’m loving spring and the feeling of rebirth that comes with it. Honestly you get so deep into the things you are working on and sometimes you just reach a sort of wall. I was starting to feel that way with the new album, and so strangely so, because I really really love the thing. But for whatever reason I’m feeling rejuvenated and the album is too.

Some of it may be outside inspiration… I was playing cello for my friend and fellow musician Molly Allis in Boston, and we had to figure out how to get the cello parts I recorded transcribed and performed with violin, cello and upright bass, as opposed to three imaginary Lukes. It was a really fun process and reminded me of the lovely depth that strings bring to chords. Since then I’ve been looking at the album and finding moments that could be more lush and composing little ditties for that. I actually wrote a cello quartet that I’m really happy with the other day. It’ll be an interlude.

Some of it is the weather. More hours of the day. I don’t know about you but I can’t really be bothered to start playing the cello at 9am. For whatever reason my creative work just doesn’t happen until the afternoon. And in the wintertimes that means it’s just dark suddenly when I emerge from the cave of my recording studio.

Oh and I think some of this newfound push is getting over hesitations… also again tell me what you think but for me the closer I am to putting something out in the world, the further faults I find with it. Nitpicking I suppose you’d call it. I’m real keen on that one too as honestly if there were one thing I would change in my music career it would be to not have released several early albums in such blatantly tawdry states.

Lastly perhaps, or at least just for now… I want to get the thing done! I’m ready to move along and create more music and play these songs live.

So if you are having a hard time getting out of winter perhaps this’ll help. Spring is around the corner. Let’s go!