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.

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.

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.

McCartney got it right

The story goes that after being repeatedly criticized by many music critics, and John Lennon for that matter as well, for writing too many "light weight" songs, Paul McCartney wrote "Silly Love Songs" as kind of not so subtle response.  As much as I am a huge fan of John's - really, all the Beatles (yes, even Ringo- Ringo is a true visionary as far as I am concerned) - I have always found this particular story very informing as a writer.

On many levels the message to me is, "stick to your guns," to say nothing of the notion of what's wrong with writing about love, anyway?  In point of fact Lennon wrote countless classic love songs himself, and the reality is that there are far more hit love songs than anything else.  Love works.  On so many levels, it just works.

There is even a compelling argument to be made that all music is about love - and I genuinely believe that to be the case. Even protest songs can easily be viewed, without losing even the slightest bit of their potency, as love songs: in simplest terms, love of humanity.  In point of fact, my strong feeling is that there is a very real and direct connection through music - all music - to a, forgive the cliche, higher power.  At the risk of being too melodramatic, that really is the heart of all of it for me, and I suppose it manifests itself in all I do. Everything.  Or at least I hope it does. Music is love.  It's Godly.  Pure.  I make this point seriously, despite its obvious self-righteous tone.  But in the end, what else could possibly be the point of music?

As I have been writing more and more, for what seems to be a never to be completed CD at this rate, I keep coming back to this notion of music, and love songs and all of it.  In fact, it reminds me of a former associate of mine who used to take what seemed to be great joy in endlessly mocking me over the fact I write so many love songs.  He liked to present himself as very erudite - regarding music and pretty much everything else - I lost track of the number of times he would lecture me about how I should be living my life and such - likely a strong reason why that association eventually unraveled; but I digress.

The point is that in the end, I felt only sorry for him.  Imagine someone so very smart but so very myopic as to be unable to appreciate something as simple as the sentiment of a love song.  I don't just mean my songs - one could certainly claim they are at best mediocre.  I mean the concept itself seemed less than worthy to him.  And as I look back at his behavior with other people, even his own family, everything seemed so trivialized all the time.  So impure.

Now I realize the hypocrisy of judging him in one breath while complaining of his judging of me in the other, but the difference to me is intent.  To not see the point in love songs.  To not feel they had anything new or viable to say, as he would tell me, seems, well, sad.  I am grateful to know what real love is.  I hope my former associate finds it within himself to someday seek it out and reciprocate it.

As I said at the start, McCartney got it right, and I, for one, intend to follow his lead.  So in the interest of full disclosure I thought I would include one of my favorite photos - one that I find inspiring beyond words:

 

If you cannot see the true essence of love and why it matters in that image, well, I don't even know what to say.  And OK, while that photo of my parents is truly inspiring to me, so is this one, even if it is more predicable that I would post it in this context (yes, I am ridiculously lucky):