Tag: rants

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I’ve been in this weird place in life right now where things are moving at light speed forward and days are busy and full, and also where, with my music, I am working countless hours and making seemingly no progress at all.

That happens. I wonder, I really do, if it is me procrastinating subconsciously on wrapping up new albums. It really is a scary thing… once you’re done it’s like… ok: does you likey? what should I work on now?

My thing is mixing. Mixing is when you put all the instruments together at a reasonable volume AND you somehow make it exciting AND you make it sound good on ALL stereos/headphones/cars. It’s not an easy feat and amazingly talented people make a living just doing that end of things. Paying a professional is a little pricey for me though, sadly. So sadly.

I would love nothing more than to take these tracks and send them off to someone to mix and master for me if for no other reason that tragically I get really really sick of these songs by the time I release an album. It’s not that they aren’t good songs, it’s that if they are I wouldn’t know.

Hearing them literally hundreds of times takes the excitement of what’s around the corner out of it. And I think that that is music’s big shazam, surprise, like comedy. Even if you’ve heard OK Computer 673 times, there’s a pretty good chance that you forgot how the tone of that guitar just makes sense for that solo, even though it shouldn’t. Something like that. Or is Caravan before or after Into The Mystic. Etc.

So today though it’s back to the grindstone. Honestly it would be a lot easier to mix my own material if I weren’t so addicted to bass. I listen to a lot of heavy low end music, not at all the more acoustic music I’m mixing. I cannot get enough bass. But too much bass drowns out the high end and it all sounds like mud.

I’ve been guilty of this bass addiction with pretty much every album I’ve ever released. This time I think I might try the recommended balance of things. That’s ok. It’s like following a recipe instead of (my preferred) throwing whatever you have in the kitchen together “artfully”. Recipe seems boring but could be the most amazing. Regardless it probably won’t be a disappointment. Intuitive kitchen-ing? Yeah. That can fail miserably.

I do not subscribe to this belief for songwriting though. No no no. The kitchen of songwriting (for me, don’t mind/care what others do) is not a place for cookbooks. Never ever. Maybe that’s why I’m so well known!

Yeah, I mean, the formula for big pop songs really works. But I just can’t help but feel that it is… not my thing to follow a song formula. And that’s a specific take on the process. The whole songwriter genre is a relatively new thing, but I do believe in it. That one person’s take on creating something is worth the tunneling required to follow/get there.

Well. There you have it.

So here’s the plan:

Finish mixing

Give you some pieces of the album along the way the next few months

Tour and see you and play

Repeat

Bye!

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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!

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It’s been a few months of polishing, taking the rough edges and wearing them down. The albums, my other life of work, my home, all of these things have been brutally grinded down and now their sheen is impressive.

I’ve known for a while that I needed to make a leap, and now I’m about to.

I’ll fill you in when it actually happens, so as not to keep it from happening by talking about it, but I think it will be good for my music life.

The main thing I wanted to “share” was that I’ve realized that indeed to get that sheen I needed the polish, the grind. I didn’t appreciate it at the time, but it’s true.

The albums are a perfect metaphor. Those were big chunky pieces of rock that required a chipping away, and then a sawing, and then a laborious smoothing.

That’s my life lately. Probably yours too?

OK and so now I’m mixing metaphors and oh well to that because, if you haven’t noticed, this blog is not a literary journal.

The leap: I’m taking it.

“Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.” – Kierkegaard

A month ago I went skydiving with my girlfriend. We did it randomly, literally deciding the afternoon before that it would be a random interesting thing to do.

As it approached I felt so much anxiety, and even felt distraught that I would put myself in such a position, especially since it wasn’t ‘necessary’. I could have had a normal Saturday, in other words.

And of course we flew up in the plane, which is when you really wonder “Why, exactly, am I in this plane?”

(BTW I know this metaphor is super cliche-y, but again, whatevs)

And of course preparing to jump out was insanely strange, but here’s the thing: the doing, the necessity of being present in that moment took away all anxiety. I went from being completely freaked out to being oddly calm. I didn’t want to miss a step, or make a mistake, and my brain knew to calm my body down.

The leap itself was the most incredible “zap!” single moment of my life. The first 0.5 seconds of my first jump was beyond reality, basically (but real!). An explosion of sensation. The flight itself almost too much for the brain to comprehend. It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve done.

And so I think that applies to other leaps in life. You’re going to wonder why. You’re going to feel anxious. But you’ll find your feet beneath you, you will take the appropriate actions. You have to believe that and trust yourself.

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And why should I?

It’s pretty much an inner circle clique gathering once a year to pat themselves on the back. The radio stations are owned by the same people putting out the albums, so where is the competition. We all know there is no innovation there.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Coldplay and a couple of other past Grammy nominees, and they are the nicest, coolest, warmest people you’ll ever meet. It’s nothing personal against the inner circle. But I’m just so sick of it.

What I’m sick of is, in a nutshell: you won’t watch the grammies and discover any music you haven’t already heard force fed to you millions of times before. The industry is collapsing under its own weight, and they go on toasting the same tired formulas.

Now that I write this though, I am not afraid to admit that I am terribly out of the loop. I’m also too old for the grammies, and have no expendable income to spend on money anymore. So I guess it’s not up to me! Which is fine.

My point is: let’s have a yearly awards ceremony that actually salutes the innovative music that has come about this year. Let’s take the airwaves back. Let’s push the real music that we care about out beyond the shadows of indie-land. The music industry is seriously in need of a breath of fresh air (which I think we will be seeing in the next couple of years… I can kind of sense it…).

That’s all. Not that it matters what I think. I wish I cared. I love music… I should care about the Grammies… right?

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Live Oct. 24 - GVCFA 

This has been one of those clusters of time where big things happen and there isn’t really even a way to gauge how much it impacted. To see Barack Obama elected was something I never thought I’d witness in my youthful days, and not for the reasons the media is obsessed with. I know it meant a lot to me to see this, as halfway through the minute after MSNBC announced he had won I was calling all my family quite emotional. That happened. It was beautiful.

Now here in the whirlpool or resilient aftermath, whatever it’s called. Things have been quaking a bit. I’m listening to old music and catching up on some long overdue chores, generally putting things into categories and then evaluating each and every one. Like: for instance: music. The album of songs I’ve been playing live is getting to the point of “ok, well, let’s put it out!”… though I’d like to have a sudden revelation and record another song or two with it. The other albums are floundering, and have taken far too long to put together. But it’s all organization at this point… a lot of the material is there… just waiting to be shaped up.

And then there is Aaron Ross’ new project, The Heirs Of Mystery. That album is almost done. A trio: Aaron singing playing guitar, Cody Feiler on electric guitar and backup vocals, me on cello and backup vocals. It’s a fun mix, it’s a good mix, it’s the kind of mix that doesn’t happen often, musically or personally… I really admire and respect those guys on all levels and I think that what we end up putting out, such as this last Sunday at the Crazy Horse Saloon in downtown Nevada City, while the sweaty pre-election crowd sat waitingwise under the redlights hearing for the first time… I think it is good. It is good music.

So tomorrow evening downtown Nevada City again, playing cello for an art opening at the Mekka… will be an interesting thing… fun I hope. And lately that’s what I mean, just a constant waterfall of these types of opportunities, crossing paths with really cool people. Nevada City has opened a bit, and yet…

now winter is upon us in it’s own way

and who knows… I just feel that of course, as always, as usual, it is not enough to be sitting here waiting for the next page to turn, waiting for the blind spot to become defogged, and perhaps even waiting for some approval to crop up out of the ether, because you know, we all want that. And, as it is shown, we are all getting there, older, and wiser, and closer to our fate, whatever it may be.

So, in short, things roll forward. I’m moving this more into journal form again by the way. I don’t really mind if it offends anyone that I shall tell of my days and nights and life in a truly vain manner on these pages. It’s what it is. I don’t need no excuses…

“The darkness has got the best of us… there’s a darkness in this town that’s got us too…
they can’t touch me now… you can’t touch me now… they aint goin’ to do to me what I watched them do to you… ” – Independence Day you should know perhaps who by

So yes, thanks in the air, the full fall leaves weighting down just enough. Enough passing by in a blur to become one with each exhale, the days. The sharpness of breath, the long-ness of the night. The books to read, the family to see, the projects to complete. The holy arena of reflection. It always happens, thank goodness.

Ambition is the answer to the vanity that tears me apart. I know I want to do more, and I believe that it will come about, the restless dreams of each and every night meaning something, meaning that indeed there is meaning. Simple tasks like homework pull me into two halves, the perfectly numb and the perfectly distraught. That’s where I’m at… You?

No, I haven’t been drinking. I just get this from the crisp air, from being on the cusp of change. From being a part of this second that said: write.

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The Basement in Nevada City is one of the best places I’ve ever played, and I’ve played a LOT of random places, from small clubs to big outdoors thingys.

Here’s why:

It is an integral part of a music scene that only happens once in a generation.

It is cozy yet big enough to pack people in.

It is comfortable to go alone or with friends.

The sound is amazing.

The audience feels really warm and friendly, but it is not as disarming as playing for your friends.

It is an organic response to an evolving culture, in other words, it is a place that was created out of pure necessity, without pretense, and that, like a healthy plant, is thriving without the need of marketing, alcohol, food, or ‘coolness’.

What I am trying to say is that it is the quintessential underground music scene place. And I thank Ryan for making that be.

We had a great show on Saturday, the night was warm and friendly. Cody was splendid. The Actionists really blew me away, they had a great sound going on, they reminded me a bit of Karate, but they took it beyond that mellow ness. It was like, very intelligent, very … good. It was good music. I was impressed. Aaron Ross came up and you know, that guy can sort of have a quiet presence but halfway through his first song he really really commands a room. His lyrics wind, unwind like a river, and though they are very sort of big, epic, profound lyrics, he never makes it feel as though he is preaching… it is just amazing to watch him.

A lot of my friends came out to the show and man they have to know that they are the best. And a few people came not knowing what the scene would be like and I have to thank them especially. It was a fun night.

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Dear Nevada City,

Last night I was out in your wilds and down at the old Chief Crazy Horse bar. Casual Fog was playing and the room was full of young people, and old people, the bartenders were frantically busy. It was an electric night.

It reminded me so much of the first night I spent here, New Year’s Eve a couple years back, when we stumbled accidentally into Cooper’s to watch the Rolling Stones cover band. That night was so invigorating. Kate and I were so new to everything, the world, apartments, a town, a home, all seemed so far away but necessary. In Cooper’s that night the scene was crowded with people, so young and together and excited about music that it felt like it could have been a scene from any big city in the United States, not some little tiny town up in the Sierra Foothills. It swayed us to move here, we were within throwing distance of San Francisco, Sacramento was there if we needed it. We could continue our road trip somehow with a stop along the way, in the last destination our road trip had taken us: Nevada City.

We stopped in Nevada City in the first place because it was on the way to Auburn, where Kate would settle for a couple of weeks at her parent’s house in time for Thanksgiving. Most campsites had long since closed for the season, and we just saw on the map National Forest campsites along the North Fork of the Yuba River, which meant: open to camp. We spent one night there on the Yuba, and then drove down into Nevada City. I remember reading about the town as we had always done on the trip from our guidebook. It said a lot about how many bookstores there were. How charming the town was. How it was a haven for bohemian artists and poets from the 60’s.

We found it to be pleasant in November. It felt like an island in the trees. I could sense the rest of California around it, which made me happy. We had coffee from the Mekka, walked around the little streets. We got some groceries and went to spend our last night of the trip camping on the shores of the reservoir up Hwy. 20.

That was a sad night. All the moves we knew so well, gathering wood, preparing dinner out in the chilly open air on the campstove. Snuggling up in the back of the truck, getting up to the crisp morning.

We moved here to Nevada City because of that New Year’s Eve. We had been looking for a place to live for a month, unable to pull the trigger on going anywhere it seemed… San Francisco was too expensive and too big. Portland too familiar. Mendocino we had done, and it was the smallness of that place that made us leave in the first place.

Luck made us find a charming little apartment on Deer Creek. Bohemian and old, dirty and cold, but charming all the same. It would be our art studio/recording studio. We would have all kinds of friends our age, they would stop by to visit us since we were right in town. We would find jobs and walk across the bridge to them.

It was so hard though. I spent four months unemployed. How I survived I don’t know. It was depressing. And then I did get a crummy job waiting tables at a mediocre restaurant in town. I couldn’t even eat the greasy food, the tips weren’t that great. There was nothing glamorous about it. Not fine dining, not historical, just a place.

And I didn’t really meet people. We made a few good friends, but there was no getting in with the kids in this town. If you were a stranger here, you were just an outsider. You were mistaken to be here or you were somehow taking advantage of it by existing here. We’d go to a couple parties when Cody would invite us, but all we ever got asked is how we came to be here. From there it didn’t really matter. We weren’t from here.

I finished my album. I met another couple of really good friends, and got a new job at the extremely shoddy local paper. Things could have gone so well. I was ready to make podcasts and write stories and do great design. But any new voices couldn’t be heard at that paper. The “entertainment editor” was severely out of touch with reality, extremely uninspired, and closed off to the real music scene that was happening here. Such a sad waste of talent that place. Kate found a job at the cool hip gallery in town, but it quickly dissolved because of some very strange lack of communication. I hadn’t heard from the guy I had framed photographs for for months… out of the blue he just didn’t call. I still haven’t heard from him. All the promise of this town would go up the roller coaster, and then swoop down terribly.

I coped by taking long drives into the mountains. I missed Mendocino (and still do) terribly. We may not have had many friends, but at least they weren’t even there, anywhere to be found. In Nevada City there were so many people we could know, but the roller coaster always swooped back down.

Things rolled here and there. I recorded with some of the amazing musicians in this town. Truly there is real artistry coming out of this place, be it an after effect of the previous generation, the bonding of small town shared stories, the air, the river, the trees, I don’t know, but it is unique, thoughtful, intelligent, anti cool, refreshing. I know that it is because I play an instrument that is in demand, but that’s fine, I loved the opportunity to create with people.

Aaron Ross and Cody Coyote are so amazingly dear to me. Aaron is the most talented songwriter I have known personally, Cody is sweet, cool, and has such an amazing voice. Alela was kind and courteous for her recording session, Mariee a sweetheart and so modest. Joanna Newsom dancing to the Moore Brothers on a random Saturday night at Cooper’s. Dana kept calling me for recording sessions, hopefully he still will! Dan Elkin, so driven, talented, and passionate. David Torch a humble, incredible person. Jonathan Hischke, truly gifted, Neil Morgan, a person who I felt great affinity for in only 30 minutes of conversation. In other words… such an incredible group of people!

I was able to finish my album here. And when I did, Eric Dickerson helped me really cull it down, and inspired me in the process. I wanted to play. And I have, a little. I got a new job. Things feel better now.

And yet, last night, I just wanted you to know that I am so enamored with you, but feel that I will never truly know you Nevada City. Casual Fog encompasses everything I love about the town, a band of not just really talented people, but a group of some of the nicest people you’ll meet. I want it all to shine, I want something magical to come of this place, but dammit I want to be a part of it somehow. I want to FEEL like I belong.

There are so many blessings, I got to meet, thanks to Laura Brown, Gary Snyder! A life long dream. Just to meet him. And one day I’m up at his table in the house he built while he pours me coffee he brewed. Amazing.

There just is no permanence here. I don’t know what I’m missing. But I either want it all to come together in a hurry or I’ve got to get out. I feel like I’ve been courting you, Nevada City, for two years. And I’m waiting for something to happen, a sign. A glimmer.

I have a good job, I love it in fact. And yet it is not music. I have so many wonderful blessings all around me. I just wanted to write this. A sort of plea for connection. For things to make sense somehow. I want to in writing this snap out of the hazy in between that you’ve held me in. I feel like I’m inside a washing machine, being cleansed, abused, and spun around all at once. I want to either love you or hate you, either way, to take more chances, feel more alive.

So that’s that. I don’t know why exactly I wrote this. I just felt like I needed to. Thank you for everything, thank you for last night, and how beautiful it was. I almost don’t feel like a spectator sometimes in moments like that. People are coming together. They are hopeful and alive. They are creating amazing things. And that’s how it is.