Where's My Album?

I hear this all the time from CMAS students (and others):  "Why should I buy a full album from an artist, when I can easily just download only the tracks I want?  Plus, it seems like most albums, even by my favorite artists are made up of a few tracks I like and the rest is all just filler."

It's a complex issue.  On one level, there is the notion that while there is so much out there, a lot of it is junk.  It's easy to get lost in the din.  On another level, there is the notion that it was not always that way and the market has allowed this kind of disposable quality to music (perhaps to all the arts?) that fosters this frequent "not so great but good enough" approach.  Another level to consider is that the entire purpose of an album has been lost, just generally, as an art form.  And there are others.  Many others.  

But my point here is not so much those concepts but something more fundamental: are we doing a disservice to the art of creating music by even allowing the option of a single song download from a wouldbe larger scale project?

The artistic purest in me says, immediately and without a moment's hesitation, YES!  The pragmatist in me, however, is not so sure. 

Here is the dilemma:  if art is a reflection of society, and society is moving in a more, albeit artistically stifling direction, does art that works to offset or even to change that movement actually reflect society accurately?

This is not just semantics. You cannot have it both ways.  Nor can you claim everything is done as a protest.  It's certainly a conceivable possibility but it's not likely to actually happen in reality.  Frankly, it's far too easy to make a bigger name for yourself and more money if you don't protest and if you get along. 

And that does't even address the factors that revolve around the rather, I think, sad fact that the manufacturers of much of todays music production tools have found that if they make things that allow pretty much anyone to just, at the push of a button, sound "real," they can make even more money, regardless of where we wanna call the results art or just exercises in technology as a crutch.  But that is another rant for another time.  Anyway...

Sure you might get very lucky and be at the nexus of a great redefining of music, but most of us will never be there, regardless of our intentions, skills or anything else that might be a factor.  And, sure, you can go your own road all you want in the name of artistic truth, but what if no one is there to hear you?  Even if you are right?  Even if your music is legitimately brilliant; but because you are all alone no one hears it?  Really, what if no one hears?  And yet another rant...

It's a confusing and multi layered problem.  One that does not just have a silver bullet solution.  

As I begin to reexamine my own musical priorities as I prepare to start recording some of the vast multitude of songs I been writing in the past many months  I wonder where I will end up on this issue.  Or if it even matters.

Maybe that's the real point of art.  Not to be a statement of anything other than of itself.  hmmmmmm…

Serve The Song

I'm a huge techno-buff.  Particularly when it comes to music.  I find it all so fascinating.  The idea that there are these tools to help refocus my creativity and my overall creative process is just so cool a concept.

On the other hand, technology as a crutch drives me crazy.  Balancing these two used to be a considerable challenge for me.  But over time I have found that if I start with that basic idea, "serve the song," and actually follow that as a kinda of unbreakable rule - ironic in that I also firmly believe there should be no rules to creativity, *sigh* - I can pretty much move into any area that catches my creative fancy.

Let me give you a more concrete example.  I am also a big fan of Dave Grohl.  (Aren't we all?)  The guy is truly an inspiration for so many reasons.  Recently he made this incredible film called "Sound City," and I really encourage you all to see it.  Repeatedly.  It is quite astonishing, and has so much on so many levels that I found myself having to watch it a couple of times recently to ensure I felt I had gotten all that I could from the experience.  Anyway...

The film is part history lesson about a particular studio (Sound City), part recording industry rant, part technology rant...you get the idea.  On the surface there is this sense of a "technology has killed music" notion floated by a lot of the artists in the film - and there are a LOT of them in the film.  So many heroes of mine that I kinda lost count.  There are all these example stories of technology killing the musical process in favor a the quick and easy route to "success."  Dave went so far as to by the Neve console from the studio for his own studio and he's since produced several amazing LPs with it.

I've heard lots of musicians respond to this film - and similar- by saying that they are going back to analog.  No more computers.  No more artificial elements. It's all gotta be "real."  Ok, but the notion of "real" is not so clear these days.  As if the analog tape machine is any less of a technology than digital.  Different certainly, but technology all the same.  It's as though they skipped the scenes in the film with Trent Reznor.  Folks, it's not the technology.  It's you.

"No, man.  You don't get it.  Dave, he went all 'old school.'  All analog.  No computers.  It's all real."  Come on.  Really?  You gotta see past that.  What Dave did is nothing short of brilliant.  But, to me at least, it has nothing to do with pro-analog or anti-computers/anti-Pro Tools.  It's about how you get musically inspired.

Think about it.  Stripping things down and removing the computer really was just a way to facilitate a different approach to music making.  Opening up previously unexplored creative paths.  But the analog versus digital element is just a superficial bit on the surface.  Go deeper and they are both irrelevant.

All that matters is the song.  That's it.  Are you letting the music make the decisions or are you forcing yourself onto it?  Your song doesn't suck because you used computers.  And it's not brilliant because you went analog.  It sucks because you got in the way.  It sucks because you let your ego get to the point of arrogance and the music took a back seat in some way.  Maybe it was 'cuz you rushed something.  Or didn't practice the line enough to make it really shine.  Or didn't let things be gloriously out of sync and/or tune.  If your song sucks, it's not the music.  It's because you did not let the music rule the decisions.  Your song sucks because you did not get out of the music's way.  

And your song is not amazing because you went analog, and threw off the "shackles of technology." It's amazing because you got out of the music's way.  Maybe going analog gave you the needed perspective to let the music take control, preventing your ego from turning to arrogance and letting the music flow.  But that is about you, not technology.  And if that's what it takes to allow you to serve the song, then do it.  Go analog.  But don't for a moment  think that it's the technology that is making the music "happen, " or not.  That's all you.  It's why all the over processed crap might at first seem really cool, but then over time all fades away.  In the same way, though, if the computer inspires you in some way to harness the magic of the music, why turn away from it?  That's just as bad as using it as a crutch.  Maybe even worse.  How can you possibly justify turning your back on the music right in front of you just because you wanna throw those shackles off I mentioned earlier?  That's not musical.  That's just, forgive me, stupid.

Serve the song.  Serve the song.  SERVE THE SONG!  How you serve it is not the point, so long as you do.

This all has absolutely NOTHING to do with technology, by the way.  It's something far more pure. Technology is only a tool.  Or a crutch.  Your choice.  Serve the song and you will always know what to do.  Ok.  End of rant.  For now...

Too Much Technology?

A couple of years ago I started a blog.  On one level it was to feed my ego that I would be able to post all my "important" observations to legions of fans all over the world who were in various states of eagerness awaiting my every word or all things musical and related topics.  Ha!  On another level it was to see if I could not create a kind of journal.  This is more the truth.  I like the idea of my kids, and grand kids, etc. having something of an insight into who I was - at least musically - years from now.  Perhaps even when I'm gone.

I guess I'm at an age where I have begun to look both forward and back in equal measure (ooooohhh....that's a good lyric...I need to use that...anyway....) and I realize that I don't have nearly as much of that kind of thing from my own parents or theirs.  Not even musical elements, as they were not particularly musically inclined - but more of a sense of who they were. Perhaps this is a topic for another rant.  In any case....

As I pursued the blog, I also got more into other social media.  Facebook.  Twitter.  etc. and it began to evolve that my "blog as a journal" idea got usurped by a Facebook/Twitter journal of sorts.

The trouble is that while these are more convenient in many ways, their potentially dramatically smaller amount of content makes them less comprehensive, and to me, in many ways, inherently less intimate (the irony of my publishing this blog publicly not withstanding - I wanna be the humble, non-attention seeking guy - really, I do  - it just never seems to work out.  yikes!) Perhaps that's more an indication of my inability to be adequately succinct, but then again, perhaps that's just an accurate reflection of me, so why fight it?

We live in an age where there are actually so many ways to communicate that it all kinda washes over us. There is so much that in many ways we get nothing. (hmmmm...another good lyric there...)

I know I am not the first to encounter this.  Or the last.  And my rant here is very much proof of that.  But for some reason I feel that if I rant here, I may get lucky enough to get to a point where I can more consistently posting into this journal for my kids.  And my legions of fans? ugh!  ;)

It's an adventure.  Like writing a song a week I suppose.  You never know quite where it's gong to lead, but that's not the point.  The point is to keep moving, and that's what I intend to do.  Wish me luck!

Rebooting My Creativity - A Song A Week

Sometime in 2011 it dawned on me that I had not really produced anything of my own for a number of years. Somewhere between the arrival of Gray and Tanner and the desire to evolve CMAS, my own creativity got - unintentionally, I would like to think - lost in it all.

I suppose that characterizing the matter as "my creativity" may not be entirely accurate, as certainly I created CMAS and that was not exactly a non-creative endeavor.  Far from it.  And to be fair, I did write and record several tracks for a bit after Gray was born.  Even did a good bit of shows for a time.  But overall things had gotten, like much in life can, stagnant.

So maybe it was just timing.  Maybe some kind of preemptive midlife crisis of some sort. Whatever.  The point is that, whatever the reason, I was not writing much music for quite an extended period of time, and that began to weigh on me more dramatically the more I began to consider it a fact.

And so I began a kind of experiment with this new year of 2012.  I resolved that  I would write at least one complete song every week.   No excuses.  Every week.  No matter what else was going on.  At least one song.

As I am now approaching the midway point I can honestly say it has been quite a journey.  One I'm so glad I have embarked on.  In fact as it has progressed my only regret it that I did not start it years earlier.

For decades now I have felt that music was a kind of spiritual event for me.  It has always been,  in a very real sense, my religion.  My connection to the universe.  My direct tie to the Divine.  I was not always able to express that accurately - perhaps not even now - but none the less, it has proven true for me over and over again, and these past months have pretty much solidified what was already a very deep connection for me.  That alone has made it worth it.

And this creative reboot has provided so much more.  And not just, as I write this, 26 songs in 23 weeks - though that's pretty cool too.  It has made my writing process so much stronger.  I feel a musical confidence that I have been lacking for some time.  In fact on occasion I like to look back over the charts for these new songs and am constantly struck at how much I enjoy them.

Of course there is that matter of what to do with them all.  One of the things that became quite clear to me early on was that for it to work I could only approach the week's song as a writer.  If I got too in to the role of Performer, or Technical Engineer, or certainly Producer, I would be sunk.  In fact that has been one of the other benefits - a significant strengthening of my ability to partition certain skills as needed.  Or put better - my ability to focus on serving the song.  At the end of the day I can confidently say that is exactly what I am doing.  That is exactly what the priority is: serve the song.

It's pleasantly allowed me to move towards decimating my arrogance - something I sadly still struggle with - while reinforcing my ego.  The distinction is vital to creative pursuits in my mind.  The former is always ultimately self-destructive and terribly "unmusical," while the latter is essential to actually motivate the creative process.

Anyway, I am close to starting to record these songs.  Very close.  In fact all this creative activity has sparked another, interesting "diversion" as I am now ever closer to unlocking what I would call a great music performance mystery:  how to use technology in such a way to maintain the singer-songwriter paradigm, but far bigger in musical scope and sound, while still keeping the song as the priority, not the technology.  Again, serve the song.  More on this in another post.  Soon, I hope.  It's pretty cool though, I gotta tell you.  More soon...

Anyway, 26 songs is a lot over 23 weeks.  (Oh, for those wondering about the math, I had a week were I got 3 and other where I got 2 so that's how that all adds up to 23 in 26.)  And though I feel it quite possible am I actually writing the same song over and over again, one thing I am very pleased with is that none of them are "comical" or throw-aways.  I feel all are legitimate.  None of them have been less than significant as far as I can tell -though some weeks have been tougher than others to have the song fully complete by midnight on Sunday.  But in a very real way that has been the point.  As the weeks go on I find my writing not only improving, but it's gotten more efficient.  I can "find" song faster now.  Or perhaps it finds me faster as I am learning how ti get out of my own way.

Speaking of which, though perhaps imperfectly, this reboot has also allowed me to channel a lot of unfocused energy.  I find that lately ideas may slow for a time, but the suddenly there will be a flow of ideas that can happen so rapidly that I know I have lost several great ones along the way.  Even with my iPhone constantly with me, I lose them all the time.  A disappointment for sure, but on the other hand I still have been able to capture so much in it's raw state that I do not foresee a time when meeting the goal of a song a week will be unattainable.  Sure it's still somewhat daunting as I think of it, but clearly it's working.  Besides the real work is starting to take the shape of getting them all recorded.  And that looks to be like a whole other fantastic musical reboot that I'm soon to embark on.

CMAS and the Search for Ensmble

Tonight was the first ever CMAS stadium show, and it was just beyond wonderful.  I am so proud of the entire program, that I really do not know where to begin.  There is so much to cover that I think it likely that I will do a series of articles to get it all out over time in the, I hope, not too distant future.

That said, there is one element that stands out to me that I had been suspecting for a while now, but tonight showed me that my instincts were, in fact, very gratefully, correct: there is a true sense of large ensemble within the program.

ensemble (noun):

1. all the parts of a thing taken together, so that each part is considered only in relation to the whole.

2. in music: the united performance of an entire group

Over the years, as the CMAS program has evolved, we've pretty much been able to prove any educational or musical criticism of the program to be wrong. Very wrong.  The only one that I have ever felt might have had some validity was a comment that for all the benefits of CMAS, the one thing the students cannot get in program is a true sense of ensemble.  Specifically, large ensemble.  

To be fair, part of me had to agree.  After all, though we have a vast number of smaller groups (most of the bands are 3-5 members) that larger sense did seem a bit absent.  On the other hand, there was always this feeling in my gut that we just had not crossed the threshold yet on this subject and there was every bit a large ensemble aspect to CMAS as much as any music program of any kind anywhere.  It just had not been presented properly.

Well tonight, it turns out, among all the other accomplishments, was the very tangible proof that the CMAS paradigm evolves this aspect of traditional music programs too.  Significantly.  I have had the honor and pleasure of leading any number of large "traditional" music ensembles over the years, in a vast array of concerts and events.  What I can now tell you is that in CMAS that exact same feeling of large ensemble exists.  Very, very prominently.  At the end of the stadium show tonight the entire program clearly felt exactly the way a large band or orchestra feels after a great performance.  There was absolutely no difference.  The benefits from the experience, at heart were even identical.  The group has to find a way to take all of the best aspects of everyone's efforts and create a collective result that all involved can feel not only proud of, but that they were in fact a key and integral part of the performance's success.  That they as a part, allowed the sum total to be far greater than the individual.  

CMAS more than proved that to be the case tonight.  In fact, in some ways they eclipsed the "traditional" ensembles in this because it's not what you might expect from the CMAS experience.  It's not necessarily the obvious result or benefit of the CMAS experience.  But it is there, and significantly.  And now that we know it for certain, CMAS, I can promise, will be taking it farther than could every be expected from any other musical experience - just like they do everything else.

As you can tell I am beyond over the moon over this.  I am just so proud to be a part of this musical journey called CMAS.  It is such a thrill and an honor.

More soon, including some more picts and video from tonight.  Amazing stuff.  I am so proud of the entire program.  Just wonderful! 

Lift: An exercise in "does/should this matter to anyone other than me?"

"Lift" will be (is?), in some ways, a departure, and in others, a kind of musical reunion. For a while I felt I needed to move away from my more Art/Prog-Rock tendencies. I was having a very difficult time aligning my sense of being a singer/songwriter and those more "artful" musical interests. That's not to say I am particularly artful - though I'd like to think so - but I certainly have a great affinity for many of the Prog-Rock genre.

I am huge fan of musicians like Asia, Genesis, Yes, Peter Gabriel and so many others. For the longest time I have always wanted to be able to create that kind of musical atmosphere, but always felt I was coming up short. Actually, I should also mention that I am a big fan of the intricate orchestrations of bands like Iron Maiden. The orchestral nature of their music has always been very inspiring to me. There are of course countless other bands and artists (The Beatles, Queen, Toto, Flecktones, The Who, etc.) that are significant to me; but it would take me pages to get through them all.

In any case, with "Lift" I have decided not to worry at all, on any level, how the material might or might not translate to a live performance. Not only has this been very liberating from a creative standpoint, but it has also allowed me to somewhat rethink my entire creative process. "Lift," like much of my work, has its share of love songs and ballads - can't get away from who I am in that regard (and don't really want to) - but there is also a fair share of other subject matter as well.

The project is still a work-in-progress, so to some extent everything I write here is really just speculation as I am still waiting to hear what the final result really will be; but what I am confident in is that "Lift" is strong on all levels. Very strong. Only time will tell if others agree or not. Either way, as long as people are listening, it's all good.

Remix, rethink, remaster... REDEUX!: How going back can help to move forward

Over the past several years since I have released any new music, several significant things have happened. Beyond the more important ones like lots of Gray-and-daddy time and Tanner arriving, I have also made some very serious changes in my entire approach to to producing music and general audio engineering. A lot of those changes have coincided with the formal adoption of the Contemporary Music And Sound (CMAS) program, and a lot have evolved out of what I feel is just a very natural progression towards such things. The other major factor has likely been my development of a very strong sense that the real beauty of being an independent musician, is just that: the independence to do what you feel is best. Certainly there are endless drawbacks, but if there is one true benefit it is the complete artist freedom I am afforded.

The fact is that I have never been truly pleased with the end result of many of my past recordings. Much of that dissatisfaction can easily be attributed to my, admittedly not always helpful, refusal to ever be satisfied that anything I do is "perfect." (I have a pretty hard time "letting go," but that is another topic) but much of if is also rooted in aural reality. Songs are good, songs are bad, but the production has tended to get in the way and not, in my view consistently, allowed the music to stand on its own - good or bad.

So as I began to finalize the writing of my next project of original material (working title is "Lift) I started to take a look at the older stuff as well to see how I wanted to apply my new production techniques to the new recordings. While doing that I found that it would not take too much effort to go back and "redo" (Redeux?) the production and get many of those old tracks into the aural shape they deserved to be in. It's kind of a going-back-in-order-to-go-forward kind of thing, but it has already proven very useful.  "Redeux" is not really about re-recording or re-tracking, it's more about re-thinking the production.  Certainly this may cause arrangements, and some other aspects, to change but I think on balance it will all be for the better.

The "Redeux" project will actually be a series of releases. I am not entirely certain how "Lift" will fit into the overall time line, but it'll be along soon as well, and if nothing else, will certainly be worth the wait. I feel the material on "Lift" is the strongest I've ever written, but in truth, as I said above, I am not convinced that I was ever able to give the earlier material its proper due to allow it to stand on its own. Again, the Redeux project is now making that possible.

The first release of Redeux will be from the more recent material that appeared on "Ties" and "Pulse" and a few others. The second will be the entire "Fade" CD from back in 2004 that featured Michele on vocals. For many reason I cannot wait for you to hear those tracks "redone" (Redeuxed?) For a very long time I thought that all the "Fade" sessions were lost forever do to a failed hard drive but just recently I was able to restore the session data and so am really excited to hear what comes of it - Michele's vocals alone are gonna just blow everyone away. There is a possibility of a third release as part of "Redeux," which would be going all the way back and examine the sessions for a "bootleg" from many many years ago that actually still sells well for me called "093003." If we get lucky, as we did with "Fade," to find a way to restore the sessions from the old hard drive, then we can make that third release happen as well. I am cautiously optimistic.

As ever, things all seem to be happening at once, but it's all good. Very good. And now it's back to work...

Pandora's Box: How the greatest CMAS concert (so far) might also be its worst

Two weeks ago tonight CMAS held its final concert of the 2009-2010 season.  It was, in a word, amazing. I don't say that lightly at all.  It was a culmination of so many factors into a single, successful evening of music that I am still a bit dumbfounded over the entire thing.

The evening consisted of over 120 minutes of all original. all student produced and performed music; and the show itself (also, all student produced) was about as over the top as anything I have ever seen anywhere.  I suppose the most notable addition was a 25 foot high, 40 foot wide, video projection system behind the performer - thanks once again to Harkins Theatres for all the continued support (Dan Harkins is, as always, beyond kind - Kirk Griffin, their chief engineer, as well - more on them another time).  It was stunning.  Just stunning to see it all come together.  And it was an absolute triumph for all involved, and an certainly a  huge honor for me to be part of it.

But here's the thing - and I have been justifiably accused of destroying some professional relationships over this kind of thing - to me, as high as the bar has now been set, we can still do it far better.  I'll save the specifics of how for another time, but it's the general concept that got me writing here: the potential Pandora's box of expextaitons.

While the show on 5/20/10 was beautiful, it was also the first time we had put in so many of the elements that I know we can do all of them far better if we simply are willing to not only look objectively, but also take the needed, and in many cases, fairly simple steps to significantly build upon what we have already done.  And this is the part that has been a death-knell for some of my professional relationships: perfection is a great goal, but it is not actually attainable. Being satisfied is akin to promoting the status quo, and I simply do not believe in status quo.  Things are either getting better, or getting worse.  Those are the only two options.  No exceptions.  Staying the same is akin to getting worse as far as I am concerned.

Yes, acknowledge the accomplishments and revel in the successes as they happen; but I firmly believe that every time you take another step closer to "perfect," the bar of that perfection moves that much further up as well.  At the point at which the bar stops moving, or worse, you are satisfied, it is time to stop.  Needless to say, many of my professional acquaintances over the years have not been able to hold a similar view.  My "arrogance" on this topic makes me feel only bad for them.  To be fair though, the relationships that suffered the most over this kind of thing were with people who I would describe as very "unmusical;" very non-creative - though, and again, I freely admit the arrogance of this statement, they think they are musical and creative, but clearly are not.  That said, I am not sure I am actually a "pure" personality of music and creativity either - even though I'd like to be.  But, as usual, I digress.

Back to the Pandora's box:  The further we push these shows, the greater the expectation is from our audience.  That is not a bad thing - not at all.  But as we start the 2010-2011 season in a few short months I wonder if the audience will allow for the learning curve that is needed over the course of the total season on the part of the students. The audience, perhaps ironically, and perhaps without realizing it, is actually in line with my view of perfection.  The question is will they allow the trials and time needed to get us to take those next steps.  If they do, the truth is that despite this amazing last show, they have not seen anything yet - I can safely say that there are at least four more major evolutions to the show coming in the not too distant future - not that I will give any details away here and/or now - to saw nothing of the studio progressions that will soon eclipse the shows.

If the audience does not, well there's the Pandora's box for you.  The only way to ensure we make it happen and give the audience what they not only want, but deserve, is to consciously keep moving forward.  Can't allow ego or arrogance to get in the way.  Call it like it is and move forward.  Keep pushing.  Always.  It's not about besmirching the efforts or reputations of anyone - like I said, revel in the well deserved successes as they come along - but if you stay there too long (and I define "too long" as the moment a single element is found to be vialbe for specific improvement) then you are back to status quo.  And then, really, what's the point?

I am so proud that the bulk of the CMAS program's students resist status quo - whether they know it or not.  They resist taking the striving for improvement as arrogance.  They seem to see it for what it is: the continuing search for bettering the end result.  Maybe the lesson really is that the Pandora's box is really just that: a box.  Keep yourself "outside the box" and the box really cannot have any impact.

Dio - A Legend Passes, But A Conflict Lives On

I never got the chance to meet Ronnie James Dio, but I was still very struck by his passing earlier this week.  To some extent, my heart has reached out to the family of anyone who succumbed to cancer after my mom passed from a brain tumor in 1997.  Personally, I cannot claim to be the biggest Dio fan - I think I might have a few singles in my collection but that is about it.  What struck me most these past few days was, in retrospect, his sense of self.   In interview after interview he seemed so in tune (no pun) with the realities of his life and career.  How he was aware of his importance in the world of Metal, but never really got too caught up in it. He had this mighty voice and incredible stage presence and seemed pretty down to Earth, generally.

Now, who knows.  Maybe that was all a facade, but as I thought about his passing, I started to think about how so many musicians of more aggressive musical styles get dumped into these categorizations that portray them as bad people.  Evil.  It just seems like too easy of a target to me.

Sure, there are plenty of examples of "Metal Gods" doing very bad things; but that seems more to be a potential trapping of the industry than a result of musical genre.  Want proof?  Go check out some of John Denver's moments off stage.  Nothing against John either, but, seriously, blaming music for anything seems like taking the easy way out and not really meeting the issue head-on.

There are far too many examples to name, proving just how ridiculous the the entire thing is.  I have been lucky enough to have spent a small bit of time with Alice Cooper - the Godfather of shock rock - and I can tell you he's about as well grounded as anyone.  He, much as I suspect Dio was, is just a really good guy.

And for those who would claim that aggressive music creates more opportunities for Sex, Drugs, and Rock 'n' Roll abuses than other occupations, simply has not been paying attention to the news.  Nothing against The Church specifically, but, uh, there's a real concern.  Sorry, but a musical genre just is not going to be worse than that.

Yes, there are bad people, who deserve the negative reputation they get; but they wouldbe bad people if they were accountants too.  Don't make music the scape goat.  I have yet to see a musical playback devise of any kind that did not include an "off" button of some kind.  If you don't like it, turn it off.  if you don't wan your kids to hear it, turn it off. But that's it.  That's all you get.

Look, I'm hardly the biggest Metal fan.  I pretty much don't get into too much of the real hardcore stuff - I need more melody.  That does not mean it's bad. Actually, I can really appreciate the energy - it's just not my thing.  But if it makes you feel good to listen, who am I to tell you not too because of some stupid story that the guys in the band once made a pact with the devil, rooted in a promise to only eat butter and never margarine (stupid butter1)  Come on!  People who buy into that crap also likely fall for every marketing trick in the book and buy tons of stuff they don't need but see in ads on TV.  They likely also thought John Lennon was blasphemous when he pointed out the obvious that the Beatles had become more popular with the youth of the day than Jesus (he did not say that was a good thing, by the way, he was more commenting on the industry's control of culture).  At the very least they have a serious cholesterol problem from all the margarine they are consuming to avoid their own devil-butter pact.

So God bless Ronnie James Dio.  Rest in peace.  You brought a lot of joy to a lot of people.  The rest of us should be so lucky to be able to make such a claim.

...you know all this talk of classic Metal reminds me that Iron Maiden is coming to town soon.  I wonder if I can score some tickets...

Pure Musical Joy: Why Nils Lofgren is one of the greatest musicans around and I am not

Thursday was an amazing day.  Nils (http://www.nilslofgren.com) came by and spent several hours playing and talking to CMAS.  It was beyond incredible.  Aside from his obvious talent, he is also one of the most grounded, kind, and generous people I have ever met.

I found myself way too star struck with him.  You'd think being so close to "Uncle George" as Gray calls him that I would act like less of a boob around someone like Nils; but no, I was kinda "Captain Wonderputz."  I hope he doesn't think me too dim after all is said and done.  I don't even wanna think about it.

Ok, now past all that, there were several things that really struck me in the time he was with CMAS.  The most significant was his humility.  Not just the obvious and almost cliche kind of thing that you'd expect from someone who has "made it" and done so much - in truth, he's probably best known for playing in the E Street Band with Springsteen; but even if you take that all away, his resume is staggering - but more about how he kept emphasizing his love of the song as his driving motivation.

With Nils you get the real sense that he loves playing with Bruce and all the work he's also done with Neil Young and so many others; and he's clearly grateful and appreciative for all he's been able to do in music; but he talks of smaller gigs in small clubs with the same kind of affection.  He has a kind of musical Joy about him that I don't see very often. It reminded me of Robert Billups (see an earlier blog about that true genius).  Even in the CMAS main hall, which is pretty cool for a school facility but not really a big deal in the pantheon of places Nils has played, he was just clearly in love with the music.

And I don't mean in an arrogant sort of way 'cuz it was his songs.  I mean he just loves music.  You can see it, palpably, in his face.  The Joy of it seems to take on his entire body and informs all the energy about him - he literally radiates it.  I learned more from Nils in those few hours yesterday than I could possible recount here, but his joyous playing and sense of self within the musical lines was just indescribable.

Full disclosure, I feel I did him a disservice in the sound I provided him - not that he complained.  I'm hoping passing along George's contact info to him, as well as  the mixes I'll create of his performances for the show that was being taped, will at least make up a bit for that and all the rest of my gaffs.

Ok, time to go and find some of my own musical joy.  So this is Captain Wonderputz, signing off...for now...

Back inside the sound: why I sometimes almost miss my old teaching gig and why "traditional" ensembles matter

This past week I was asked once again to be a clinician for the Arizona Band and Orchestra folks. In short, it was beyond terrific; and to work, even if just briefly, with these amazing young orchestras, was great fun for me.

With all the studio work and training I do; and the songwriting, etc, etc. that makes up the CMAS program, I sometimes forget how much I still love being "inside" that kind of sound.  It is a very different world, and in some ways I miss it.  Not enough to go back, but...that sound...no matter what else I ever do, I still love it.  Frankly, it's been creeping back into my own music in some ways lately, so maybe it's a kind of musical synergy coming to fruition. Who knows.  Anyway...

Lately when I am lucky enough to be a part of these kind of things, inevitably the conversation comes around to CMAS.  Many times I cannot tell for certain at first if I am being investigated or envied.  The truth is liekly somewhere in between.

While it's my job to promote the paradigm shift that CMAS represents to music education, people usually seem so surprised to learn that I have a very real and strong affinity for traditional ensembles.  It just seems odd to me.  Music is about something more than the specifics of the ensemble.  More than a tale of who is playing what instrument.  It's about getting inside yourself and life and the world and God and whatever else you wanna connect it to.  The organic, pure nature of music is not limited to any specific parameters.  I find it odd that this strikes so many as a "new" concept.  Many will feign agreement only to privately scorn the music CMAS now fosters in people who would otherwise have no interest in its exploration.

It seems very simple to me and was really reinforced for me while at this recent festival with all these grand orchestras: either all music is viable or none of it is.  Sure, you cannot do it all, and everyone will have their strengths and weaknesses in execution; but at it's heart music - of all genres - reaches beyond.

Does it really matter which path you take to get there?  Traditional ensembles are hugely important.  Truly.  But, in the end, it's music that is the important entity.  Get it however you can and encourage others to do the same, no?  Band, Choir, Orchestra, Jazz, Rock, Country, Rap - that's all just superfluous details.  Music is what matters.  All music.  Sometime I really wonder if CMAS is really that big of a change.  I swear, fundamentally, I am only able to approach music one way - I know of no other - regardless of the specific ensembles or genres.

I may not be a "traditionalist" but I am certainly a "purist."  And I am very, very lucky to have a life that is 100% family and music.  It's just that simple.  Really.

The real deal

Earlier this week, we were lucky enough to host Ryan Star (www.rstar.net). What an amazing talent this guy is. Among other things, if you know the show "Lie to Me," he wrote and performs the theme song. I cannot say enough good things about him. He was incredibly gracious to both me and my students and it was just a wonderful afternoon.

As an educator I was really glad to have someone of his caliber talk with my students about his experiences in the music industry. It was also very cool to see many of my students step up and ask some really great questions - not only of Ryan, but also of Ken Lane (Senior VP with Atlantic) who was also there.

Ryan was very good about pulling no punches with the students. After performing for a bit, he took lots of questions and was very open about how hard he has had to work and about how much focus his journey has required. It was very inspiring, but also very good for the students to hear about the realities of the industry. Neither Ryan or Ken were overtly negative, they were just very honest and it made for a great educational afternoon. Plus the music was awesome.

On a personal level, I learned a ton. It was very cool to hang for a bit and make a new musical friend - someone in my own age demographic. In fact, Ryan, was really kind in his comments about the program and me. He kept telling me how much he wished he'd had program like this when he was in school. Funny thing is, as I told him, that was the very point of creating it - I had had the same thought years ago.

Ryan is clearly very grounded and, like I said, I cannot say enough good things about his music. More than that though, he struck me a very decent person. The kind of guy you'd wanna be friends with regardless of his occupation or success.  I'm really glad to be able to call him a friend.

The perfect piece of gear

So as things have started to calm down just a bit from the arrival of Tanner into our family, I find myself drifting back into my musical mindset. I suppose I am the type who never really leaves it, for better of worse, but in any case, Tanner's birth (he and the whole family are doing quite well, by the way) has gotten me thinking about the idea of "new beginnings."

This has carried over even into my teaching as I have been reworking the student recording labs these past days to make them more functional and efficient for their use. Kind of a lab reset or new beginning of its own.

In any case, as we've been setting up gear and such, students have been asking me questions about the individual pieces and such and how I designed the labs and all manner of related questions. One of the topics has been "what do we still need?" It's an interesting area to me, and one that I have decided to broach more directly with them over the coming weeks.

The truth is, the technology of audio is always evolving and changing. No sooner does a piece of gear get released does it seem like another one comes along that is an "improvement." The fact is that there is always more gear to buy. Always a new tool that can improve the end result.

I am not saying that is a bad thing. But over time I have started to wonder where the line really is between the gear we need and the gear we want. Case-in point: preamps.

For the last many years I have been, like so many others, on a quest for the perfect preamp for my studio. The ultimate absurdity of the notion is not lost on me, but I still find myself wondering what might work best for my varied needs. I have been lucky enough to have a lot of friends who have great expertise in such things-certainly more than me-and have been even luckier to be able to borrow any number of pieces to work with and get a sense of their sound in application.

I have no doubt that my assessment may change or evolve over time, but as I write this I have, as of late, had a recurring thought that has grown ever more persistent over time: there is no perfect preamp. This idea of the best combination of mic/preamp/converter is actually becoming funny to me. I think it must have something to do with the fact that, atthe end of the day, I seem always drawn to the song over the production.

I know, I know, seems a bit off given all the time I spend either in production for myself or others, or the fact that I teach so many students about the skills required for excellent production; but none-the-less, there it is. Even if I stipulate that I am not very good at it, I always view myself first as a writer. I tend to want the music to inform the production, not the other way around. I suspect that is one of the principle reasons that my music tends to be so acoustic based. For all the technology I like to use, I tend to want it transparent to a large extent.

To be fair, I am still trying to get my head fully around the implications of this as it relates to the current CD I am attempting to complete, but my gut tells my that the heart of this is accurate, so I feel compelled to go with it.

The gear does matter. There is some truth in notion of "garbage in garbage out" but in the end I feel that rather than search for the perfect piece of gear, it's far better to be searching for the perfect song.

Wolves and Sheep (update)

Somewhere in the chaos I had the idea that at least part of this blog would be to document the creation of my next album, "Wolves and Sheep," so taking a bit of a break from my music education observations, here's the current scoop:

So right now there are about 15 songs in various states of completion - in other words, the basic framework is complete, though there may be some minor re-writing to do on either the music, lyrics, or both.  Of those, 5 or so are fully composed, though I suppose once I get to tracking them in the studio, a whole 'nother set of options will likely open up.  There are also a literally countless group of riffs and ideas that may or may not turn into fully formed pieces.  Also, in general, nothing is for sure till the song is fully realized in production, so certainly those numbers are gonna change.

In any case, the seemingly endless stops and starts on this for the past year or so seem to be finally aligning themselves into a workable plan and the project is beginning to take a form of sorts.  The basic idea is to create a two part CD.  The first half will be the music presented in "normal" mixes for standard audio systems like home stereos, cars, etc.  The second half will be the same material presented in crossfed mixes specifically intended for headphone listening, which, thanks to the massive popularity of mp3 players, has become an equally typical listening environment.

Of course with the limitation of only 80 minutes available on a CD, this really means only 40 minutes of unique material.  Interestingly, this is having the unintended effect making me be perceived by some as a kind of recording arts purist as that is pretty much the limit that was experienced during the years when vinyl records were the standard format for distribution.  To be fair, I probably am a bit of a purest in general, but it was only recently that I found it evidenced in such a way.

Ok, so enough the trivial, the real essence of this project seems to be that the sound itself has evolved significantly over the past year or so.  As an example, the rhythm tracks are all being dominated by really cool world percussion grooves that I have to say have been a blast to compose, play and record.  There are still drum kits within the textures, but there is a different kind of life to these tunes largely due to the timbre shift.  Another element taking hold is the use of choirs.  Full on, massive choirs, in some cases, not just the expected, if not typical, vocal harmonies and overdubbing.  Certainly this is adding a significant load to the production end of things; but, man, it's also really pushing me musically, which, all the rest of it aside, I find just fantastic.

The last part of all of it may be the more "ambient" material that has been emerging lately.  It seems to be an offshoot of a lot of the looping I seem to be fond of when performing live, but that is not always a true representation of the original recording of the song.   Hard to tell at this point where that is gonna lead, but I guess that's the beauty of all this.  As it evolves, I can continue to update.

Joy versus fun

The list of former teachers of mine who were far kinder and patient with me than I deserved is surely staggering.  One of the more significant (to be fair, there are certainly many) is Robert Billups.  Actually, Dr. Robert Billups, but I recall he had an aversion to such monikers - yet another important lesson he taught me.  I knew Bob while at the University of Arizona in the mid-1990s.  He was one of my conducting professors (the other was Gregg Hanson - whom along with Bob, rank as tow of the most musically pure people I have ever known.)

Anyway, Bob was the director of the U of A orchestras, briefly, till he had to take an eventually permanent leave of absence due to some medical issues.  I was lucky enough to be one of his TAs for a bit of time, and he really opened up a whole  new perspective of music to me.  But of all the lessons I learned with him the one I still hold dearest is also the one that was the most subtle.  In fact, I don't ever remember actually talking about it with him in any of our countless conversations.  And yet, as I look back, I cannot help but always come to it. The lesson was simply this:  Joy. 

Bob always struck me as pretty scholarly.  Like Gregg, he always seemed very musically wise and always, always a least one step ahead of me - usually several.  But over time I have come to have a far different image in my head when I think of Bob: the joyous, beaming smile.  Particularly when conducting.

It took me years of growing up to feel like I had even a cursory understanding of it, and even now I am not certain that I am there yet.  Bob literally radiated joy when he was on the podium.  It was simply undeniable, and, I now realize, strikingly infectious.  No matter the quality of the sound created, it seemed impossible to leave one of Bob's rehearsals feeling bad.  You just could not do it.  The joy was too palpable.

On the other hand, I recall several times, after running a rehearsal myself, symphony members coming up to me and asking if I could not do more of the conducting as they felt Bob's was at times so hard to follow.  I'm embarrassed to admit that at the time I was very flattered by this, and it served to boost my ego in ways I certainly did not and still do not deserve.  But more to the point, a while ago I realized that the problem was really not Bob's conducting, it was that the symphony members who would speak to me were looking for the wrong things from him, and worse, they actually missed a priceless opportunity.

But we seem to be overwhelmed with the need to have fun.  It is not remotely the same thing.  If there is only one thing I would like my students to learn it is that joy and fun are not the same thing.  As I have said, music is about joy.

"Joy" – noun: the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying; keen pleasure; elation.

"Fun" – noun: something that provides mirth or amusement.

Fun is far too fleeting.  Plus, eventually, no matter how "gifted" you are, the fun is going to stop and you're going to have to do some real work to musically evolve. I firmly believe this is the point were so many people stop playing music.  I hear it all the time.  "Well, ya' know, I just kinda lost interest." Give me a break!  No you didn't.  I simply don't believe that.  What I think happened is that you lost your sense of  the pure joy music can give you.  Remember the feeling you got from music when you were the age of my two year old son, Gray? That's the pure joy of music.  I hope Gray is able to retain it.  In any case, I also believe it's because it's just so much simpler to focus on having fun; but again, once it feels like work - and if there is no joy to counter that - well, of course you lose interest.  Who wouldn't?

I know it sounds harsh - which is not my intent - but I am so convinced of this theory of "Musical Joy," that I feel it self-evidently universal.  Historically, so many of us view Beethoven as an ultimate musical genius - a label he certainly deserves; but we also know he struggled - he worked, hard - to write his music at times.  (By the way, I know the easy path here would be to simply point out the subtext of his 9th symphony - the "Ode to Joy" - but I am not going to take the easy path on this one.)  Even if one wanted to blame that struggle on his going deaf, the fact is it required a nearly inhuman work-ethic to accomplish all he did.  We know from his own letters and journals that he struggled.  Constantly battling his own diminishing sense of self as his illness (check out a fantastic book called "Beethoven's Hair" for the details) took more and more control.  Certainly not fun.

No. I personally believe what really kept him going was that he managed to retain that pure sense of musical joy that first captured him when he started his musical journey as a young child.  I for one have never bought into the accounts that claimed Beethoven to be arrogant.  I  believe is was simply certain.  Not of himself, of his music.  Somewhere inside he always retained the joy.  My proof?  Listen to his music.  Or better yet, play it yourself.  Either way the joy is there.  Even when the context is dark, as it often was with Beethoven, there is still joy.

And so I come back to the seemingly simple lesson I got from Robert Billups about joy and fun.  It has nothing to do with musical style or genre.  In fact, it is not exclusive to music.  It applies to anything we do in life.  What Bob was able to do, I am certain I could work for the rest of my life every day, and still not quite have it right.  He was joyous on the podium.  Always.  Every time.  Sure his technique was imperfect. So what?  I now know real music has little if anything to do with technique.  Real music is about joy. Perfect, pure joy.  It was miraculous to watch him.  Joyous.

Greetings from the road

Ok, so I don’t tour very much these days, but I am sitting in with a friend’s band tonight for a pre-Halloween party, and am writing this while on a short break in the set. (posting likely after the gig.)

I don’t play out nearly as much as I used to for any number of reasons, and in so many ways I miss it. On the other hand, the club scene is such a hassle, and I am sure I it is a sign of my age that I have far less patience for it than I used to. Plus I seem to grow weary of playing cover songs after a while - am forever more interested in creating something new of my own. Obviously audience opinions vary on this, but I digress.

On the other hand there is something truly joyful about playing with a group of people just for the sake of playing, for an audience that is just there to enjoy the moment with you. And that makes me think of a lesson I wish I was able to impart on my students easier: Joy and fun are not he same thing and joy is so much more satisfying in the long run.

Music is a show of joy to me. No matter the style or sound, even in the darkest of context, there is still an intrinsic element of joy. I know I need to fully explain this, but for now it’s back to the show. Anyone seen a roadie or two to carry my gear to my car later?....

The State of Music Education (part 3)

What information, at age 15-20 or so, could have made a difference for me in my musical growth?  That's pretty much the defining element of this little experiment called the Contemporary Music and Sound program.  It's actually a simple concept in retrospect, and there is something to be said for the notion that the most significant educational philosophies are generally the most obvious; but more importantly it's intuitive. 

It's interesting to me that for all the attention CMAS has gotten, all the great comments received over the comprehensive and educationally valid curriculum it employs, it was really all developed with that "what would have helped me?" concept in mind.

That is not to say that I do not have a huge amount of respect for my former music teachers - in fact I do.  Truth is, over the years, it was my analysis of them as it related to my own teaching skills that, in no small part, convinced me that I needed to find a new direction.  It was clear that I was not up to a high enough standard.

So again I come back to luck.  The CMAS concept, educationally, has been to find a way to repackage the music fundamentals of theory and technique with more modern sensibilities.  I often talk to my students about what it really means to write "pop" music.  Ultimately that conversation always leads us to the same place: people like Mozart, Beethoven and all the others, were writing Pop songs for their times.  You cannot fault them for not using electric guitars and synths since they were not around, any more than you can fault current musicians for making use of the newer tools available to them.  It seems a bit naive to think that Tchaikovsky would not have used a DAW (Digital Audio Workstation) if it had been around when he was creating his music.

And that might vey well be why the more traditional minded of my collegues are are having so much trouble.  It's not that the music is old.  Frankly I find that a ridiculous if not irrelevant descriptor.  It's the idea that it is more valid than what is happening now. 

I know how harsh that sounds, but, at least to me, and this is what I demand my students to come to terms with, either all music is valid or none of it is.  This is not and should not be an area of debate.  That is not to say it is all good.  "Valid" and "good" are about as related as "joy" and "fun." But as usual, that is a topic for another posting.
(end part 3)

The State of Music Education (part 2)

The irony of the whole thing is that, if I am to be totally honest, a great deal of my motivation for creating the Contemporary Music and Sound program (CMAS) at the school was purely selfish.  After a decade of teaching I found myself longing for a better way to musically connect.  For a number of years it had almost felt hypocritical to be pushing students in musical directions that I myself no longer felt were valid.

And I got very, VERY lucky. When I started at the school I was brought on just to be the "band guy."  A position that I enjoyed but it was never part of my true musical DNA, as it is with most excellent band directors.  I was always more captivated by the possibilities of full symphonies - something I would eventually bring to the school - at one point as many as two full ensembles, actually.

In any case, shortly after I arrived I was asked to take over the guitar program - a popular if not complete waste of time for the kids as there was no defined curriculum of any kind.  That took a bit of time to correct, but regardless, from there it all kinda moved along logically (except for the eventual over-stretched part of things for me as I began to take on way too much.)  Kids in the guitar classes started to want to know if I might be able to teach them how to write songs since I was always playing mine for them.  That lead to a songwriting class, which became hugely popular, in no small part due to the live events we started to put on that soon balloned into a kind of massive production by high school standards.  (We are now a fully student produced event with a 25K watt PA, 8 moving lights, hazers, full 16 channel sound and 3 camera recording, etc. - very "Spinal Tap" at this point.)

From there it transformed again as students began to ask me if I might be able to also teach them recording production techniques to go along with what they were already doing with live sound.  Keep in mind I was still running the band and orchestra programs at the same time - badly, I would think, to be fair.

The real problem now though was that in order to teach that kind of thing we would need quite a bit of additional resources.  I have since learned that a CMAS program is far less expensive to run per student than a band or orchestra in the long run,  but the initial investment is a bit much.  So here's the really lucky part:  I decided to write a complete, detailed, four year curriculum outlining every conceivable facet of CMAS.

And it is a very tough curriculum.  CMAS is not an "easy grade."  Not even close.  I have been told many people who have since reviewed it that it is almost overwhelming the amount of expertise that is required of the students.  Almost, they say, but do not change it.  There is still a significant amount of "standard" elements: music theory, instrumental techniques, etc.  But it is the repackaging of that material into something contemporary and immediate that seems to have caught the attention of the students.

Did I mention the lucky part? I had been getting a lot of encouragement from my administration and some fellow teachers that there were some options for funding.  Specifically that the Career and Technical Education folks for both the district and the state were looking for ways to better incorporate fine arts.  They loved my concept and curriculum.  What I thought was a somewhat lark of an idea quickly became the model for everyone.  It has been an amazing ride so far.  We have a huge and growing recording lab of 16 ProTools stations and tons of outboard gear and on and on.  More importantly, the student interest is massive.  So much so that I cannot teach them all, even on an extended contract.  Don't get me wrong, it's a great problem to have, but I know full well it is not me.  It is the program.  The standards I wrote have also been adopted by the state, which added a huge amount of educational credibility, and we are soon to be offering college credit for the 3rd and 4th years of the program as well.  Another huge credibility factor.  CMAS has changed the music education paradigm. For the better.  I feel very lucky to be part of it.
(end part 2)

The State of Music Education (part 1)

After 12 years as a public school music educator I would hardly call myself an expert in the field.  That said, I have not only noticed some trends, but I have been lucky enough to move with them and in the process, perhaps, been able to, at lease in some way, change the paradigm.  At least a little.

I suppose this is really about MY state of music education; but anyway, after completing a Masters in Conducting from the U of A in Tucson - something I am still very proud of - I began a journey as a music educator that has proven to be far more life changing than I ever could have anticipated.  In the most obvious aspects, I met my wife, also a teacher, along the way, which has now blossomed into our son Gray and soon Tanner, so that part of the "life change" is pretty easy to see.

But the more subtle changes have occurred over the past years as I have both struggled and, I think now in many ways, succeeded in finding a viable balance between my true musical self and my desire to help students further develop their own creative process.  It sounds horribly cliche, but, perhaps sadly, I truly believe in it.  Regardless of where or who, regardless of if I am actually any good at it or not, my real job is to help others find and develop their creative instincts.  Whatever they go on to do later in life, the pursuit of further refined creative instincts is at the top of the list of my priorities.

So I no longer direct orchestras as often as I would like, and though I miss it, if I am being truly honest, I am not certain I was ever very good at it from a technical standpoint.  Which is not to say that I did not afford my students educationally beneficial opportunities - I am certain I did. But I am acutely aware that, even with the best of intentions, I may not have always been the best at it.

And after many years of growth for both them and me, it became obvious that a change was needed.  I clearly hit a wall a few years ago. I no longer felt I could musically connect with the students as effortlessly as before, and as I look back I realize that I was solely responsibly for that growing lack of connection - not the students. Perhaps I hit that wall that so many educators hit after about 5 years, I do not know.  If so, at least I was in year 11 when it happened, so I can claim I beat the odds a bit, no?

In the years prior to that I had been somewhat split between the "traditional" classes of band and orchestra - which I truly loved, and the more "contemporary" classes of Songwriting and Analysis, which I also loved and found to be more internally driving.  And then, a kind of miracle that is rare in education happened: I found myself in a situation to develop and pioneer a new type of music program.  And out of that came what we now call "Contemporary Music and Sound."

To call CMAS successful would be a great understatement.  To call me the reason for its success, would be laughable.  In so many ways I am now like a guy how is handing out free money - it's not me they love, it's the money.  I can take credit for the concept and the curriculum, but CMAS works on its own, and that may actually be the most significant part of my accomplishment in creating it:  it does not need me to work.
(end part 1)

Crossfeed the what?

So for some time now I have been toying with the seemingly simple concept of being able to do accurate audio mixing with headphones as opposed to standard monitors, the usual term is called "Crossfeeding" and over time I have become a huge fan of it.  It started out as just a kind of frivolity - I just thought it might be fun to see what was possible.

But in more recent times it started to become a more significant and legitimate goal.  The driving force was really the birth of my first son Gray.  My wife Michele has always been pretty tolerant of the studio work I do at home - in fact, she is pretty accomplished on ProTools herself - but when Gray was born a bit over two years ago, it became obvious that a change was needed if I was ever going to be able to get any work done consistently.  To be fair, "Dude, "as we sometimes call him, has a pretty good sense of what works in a mix himself; but let's face it, he's still just a two year old, and daddy's work only keeps him interested for so long.  Plus, I'm used to working late at night, and that train pretty much left the station once Gray was in the picture, just from a purely practical standpoint.

My other motivation was to create a viable tool for my students to do their work. (I created a Contemporary Music program a few years ago for a public high school that has proven incredibly successful - I got very lucky; more on that in another post very soon)  Anyway, there is a practical matter for them both in the recording labs at the school, and also, like me, if they choose to do work at home. So between my own curiosity and needs, and those of my students, it - accurate headphone mixing - became a more pressing priority recently.

Fortunately, the concept has been around for quite some time, originally gaining some prominence, at least in theory, in the early 1970s, so there was a lot of data to cull and develop the methodology I am currently employing.   I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge a very serious piece of work from John Conover dealing with the spacial distortion research of Siegfried Linkwitz.  This pretty much is what allowed me to create the final, successful utility for ProTools.

There are a lot of products these days, particularly higher end headphone amps, and even headphones themselves, making use of various algorithms to create the same effect I have generated, but I find myself now somewhat addicted to the tweaking process and it has been fun to work to fully refine my own method.

So as my new Crossfeeding obsession grows - not insignificant towards my motivation is the success I am having at accurately being able to to mix with a good set f headphones - I began to formulate a way to perhaps rethink my entire creative process as well, not just the way I mix.  And thus I came upon "Crossfeed the Mix."  A kind of band mentality, even though it's pretty much just me for now.  I have no idea where it will take me, but it has been very freeing already not to think of my creative output as me, but as "Crossfeed..." Perhaps it is just my imagination, but as I tell my students, the ability to be able to push your creative process is a powerful and wonderful thing if you handle it the right way.

As I begin work on a new CD, I plan to document my progress in these posts as well as the progress of my other creative ventures, including the music education program I mentioned above and my production company too.  Certainly, some family items will make appearances as well, and to that end I figure if nothing else, years from now, should I proved disciplined to keep this up, these posts will help serve as a way for my kids (and grand kids someday) to learn more about me.  Not a bad motivator that one either.