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Museday Mumblings (Vol. 26): Timing and Motivation

Museday Mumblings (Vol. 26): Timing and Motivation

Bands are tough.

I’ve been in a ton of bands over the years, and none of them have been perfect. My current band is about as close as I’ve gotten.

There are varying measures of success when it comes to a band experience. Musical, performance, monetary, vibe, energy, following, critical appreciation, fame. Most people I know that play music are hobbyists with day jobs. I think many are people who “lived the dream” at least for a while, and then it became more important to be comfortable or to be there for the people who needed them than to continue chasing whatever musical dream they had.

I was never one of the people who could be comfortable “chasing the dream”. This is my fundamental obstacle to ever feeling like a “real artist”. I really did try to write good music and songs for a while, but it just got easier to be dad and play covers. That didn’t mean that I didn’t have expectations for the bands I played in.

Ignoring my occasional appearances at local bars in college, the first sort of “pro” band I played in was in Jacksonville in 1998 or so. A guy I knew from my day job at Convergys (yes, call center Hell…but it was steady and I needed steady at the time) had a band with a guy he knew that played guitar, and an assortment of other musicians, including a good keyboardist who was a doctor or something (I’m not sure I remember at this point), a tenor saxophonist, and some other assorted people. The idea with that band was to be a true party band, playing dance and funk songs, along with some poppy classic rock selections.

I had been playing bass sort of on the side of my guitar playing since about 1991-1992, really in earnest from about 1996 on, when I acquired my own bass (I call him “Juan Solo” because he is a black-and-white Mexican-made Fender Jazz Bass that sort of looks like Han Solo’s shirt/vest combo). I didn’t even own a proper bass amp. I used my Peavey PA system as my bass amp to be loud enough. It sounded pretty bad. I didn’t understand how to properly use the technology, and I really didn’t have the extra cash to spend on an amp at that point. The one gig I did play with that band, I borrowed my brother’s Fender M-80 combo, which was fine. But I was a mess as a member of that band. I didn’t really understand how to learn songs on the bass all that well, I couldn’t really read charts (though some were provided to me), and I was still sort of a hack bassist (though I definitely thought I was much better than I actually was – thanks, Dunning-Kruger effect). I did have a solid knowledge of what would work and what wouldn’t, though – I’ve always had good instincts about that. The whole process was kind of terrible, even though ultimately the people were quite nice. They were just very certain they knew things and I could clearly see, even at my intermediate beginner level at that point, that they didn’t have a clue what they didn’t understand about making a band work. At the time, I couldn’t bear to suffer fools or foolishness when it came to music, so I was vocal and probably made things less fun for a lot of people. I quit the band shortly after the first gig I played. I think at the time I just wanted to learn how to be a good, grooving bassist, and I figured the band would be a good way to learn. But I wasn’t ready, they were the wrong people, the material was kind of all over the place and wrong, and the opportunity just didn’t really present itself. So I left. The timing was wrong. Our motivations didn’t match.

Cut to the following year.

A co-worker of mine says he and his buddy want to start a band and they need a bassist and drummer. I didn’t know a drummer, but I was definitely into the concept of playing some bass. So they found a drummer through the Folio Weekly classifieds, we met at a bar, and we all got along so well that before even playing a note we decided we were a band. Thankfully, playing together we had immediate chemistry, so all was well. We picked songs and worked on repertoire from April through July, and all was going well until the singer (my friend from work) had to quit. His day job had gotten too busy and he wasn’t going to be available for gigs. So we found another singer, and thankfully once he knocked off some rust we were ready to go. We named the band, and started to play some shows. It was musically very fun because the drummer and were a machine – I learned so much playing with him. Plus we were playing a lot of songs that people liked that also happened to be songs I really wanted to play. I got to sing a few songs, and sing harmonies on a lot of other ones. We were truly all on the same page and moving it forward. And it was FUN. We’d have our ups and downs, and the singer would eventually leave because of some personal stuff and we’d get a new one who’s still one of my best friends. But it could have been better if everyone had been on the same page at the same time. That was always an issue with that band. Sadly it would end without my consent, though, and though that group definitely had its issues, we’d all do a reunion in 2015 and have a great time together one last time (as Trumpitis has apparently infected the brain and heart of one of the members and he doesn’t want to associate with me anymore because he doesn’t like my sassy liberal opinions).

About a month before that band was “taken” from me, I had auditioned for another band when their main vocalist/guitarist left, and it came down to me and one other guy, and though musically my rehearsal was awesome, great chemistry, they were worried about my involvement in that other band and how much time I’d have, and didn’t really believe in me image-wise compared to the other guy, so they went with him. Five months later half the band decided to leave. I’m not saying the two are related, but I think if they’d been satisfied musically and fed off my live performance energy, it might have been a different situation. The weirdest part, to me, was that when the guys were quitting (bass player and lead guitarist – the ones I auditioned with), I filled in on bass for them for a couple of shows before joining the band as a guitarist after that. So January wasn’t the time, but May was. Timing.

I have to be honest, it wasn’t the way I wanted things to be. The departing guitarist and bassist were two of my favorite local musicians. Sadly it was always a little tough finding ways to get along and properly communicate with the guy they picked in January as we shared guitar and vocal duties, and I know I made the experience suck a little for my dear friend (the drummer and bandleader), and I’ve apologized to him for it. Eventually that guy bailed on us and we had to find a replacement, and right as we figured out the new lineup, I moved to Austin. Timing. (Boo.)

During this period, I also hand-picked a band with my favorite local guys – the drummer who also had the band stolen away from him, and the bassist who had just left the last band I talked about. We found a very talented keyboardist and decided to hit a jam night. It was so much fun, we decided to try and turn it into a band. Instead of having a singular purpose or a set sound, we decided to try and be a “kitchen sink” sort of thing, and play as many different kinds of songs as we could find – stuff no other bands were really playing, but were familiar and popular. We picked individual wishlists of songs, and then tried to be democratic about it, and when it didn’t seem to be going the way of the bassist’s selections, he decided he wasn’t all that into it anymore and left. It broke my heart. I didn’t handle it very well, because I thought his ideas were rightfully being downplayed, as those choices didn’t really fit our abilities and were very medium-to-low energy and not friendly to bar crowds (our goal). We puttered along, got a new (and inferior) bassist, and we all kind of stopped giving a shit, so it just died. The motivation was gone.

When I moved to Austin the following year, I struggled to find people to play with because I simply didn’t know how to go about meeting other musicians in a way that would make them want to play with me. There weren’t really jam nights like the ones that are all over the place in Austin now. So I took to the internet! And in about a month, I found a band that seemed interesting, so I met the guitarist, saw a show, saw how terrible their bassist was they were trying to replace, and had one rehearsal with the band, and apparently made a bad impression – the rest of the band were NOT on board, though the guitarist and I clicked (and are still great friends). So I met some other people who were also interested in replacing their bassist, played with them a few times, but decided that the drive to practice was too far (about an hour each way without traffic) and the karma of getting someone kicked out of the band was too much for me. I did meet one of my favorite people in this band, so that was nice. I stayed friendly with them, though, and would support them at shows.

I finally found a band to join, and it just didn’t really work for me. The vibe was weird at first, because the drummer they had kind of sucked, which frustrated the guitarist to the point of rage at times, and the musical repertoire just wasn’t really up my alley, though it was a refreshing change, at least for a little while, and especially once they lured their drummer back with my presence. And of course, he comes back, and I ended up quitting (we’re still buds to this day, actually…more on him later). My motivation was gone.

I felt really bad to bail, but I really just wasn’t loving the situation in any way – we played in smoky, sort of trashy bars, with low pay that kept it from really being worth the time invested – so when the first (and far inferior, musically) Austin band came back to me to fill in for some shows, and we had more rehearsals and the two who didn’t like me finally “got it”, I was on to the next thing. In June it wasn’t right, but in September, it was good. Timing.

When the drummer quit that band, I had my buddy from the other band (the one who had come back because I was in the band) fill in for the new band. It went pretty well, we had a great hang after, but ultimately we found a different person to play with us more suited to our modern rock-pop-punk sort of style. As that style evolved over the years, we had many drummer changes, and it eventually became a trio, and finally my buddy came in and killed it. We finally were playing together and the band was doing well. At least for a while. Then the crowds sort of thinned, the motivation started to fade, and ultimately, we let the band go. But those guys are still my best friends here in town. I love them and miss them and will give them manly hugs next time I see them when it’s safe.

I have so many more timing and motivation stories, but I think I’ve made my point.

Bands are tough.

Sometimes the timing is right, sometimes not. Sometimes the motivation is there, sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes you luck out and everyone’s available and on the same page and you have a unified mission. That’s been the story for my current band for pretty much the entire time leading up to the pandemic. And thankfully, it seems like we’re all getting back on the same page again, but without an idea of when gigs are coming, it’s hard to maintain momentum and hard to keep that motivation. We did our awesome cover, we’ve done a few little livestream things (and a livestream concert that was less than awesome), and we’ve done a lot of talking without doing a lot of actual things for the past few months. I don’t believe anyone wants it to slip away, but that’s always a danger when you don’t keep at it, so we did a rehearsal the other night, and basically wrote our version of a new song to add, and brought back a classic and one we’d only really done in practice. We’re on our way, once again.

If only we can get this country to stay home if they can (or at the very least physically distance with masks) and stop going around infecting each other and putting people in the hospital, we can get back to adoring crowds singing their lungs out with us at our favorite venues.

But sadly, now is not the time…

(see what I did there?)

Black lives matter. Trump lost. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Physically distance. Respect facts. Respect expertise. Realize you don’t actually know shit. Be humble, avoid hubris. And love people, for fuck’s sake, instead of always looking for things to hate.

Also: Call your mom and dad and family and friends and do video chats and tell them you love them. They need you, and you need them more than you know.

That’s enough for now. Thank you for your time, and peace be the journey!

TMS

Museday Mumblings (Vol. 24): “Firing on all cylinders”

Museday Mumblings (Vol. 24): “Firing on all cylinders”

Ah, timing.

It’s one of the most challenging aspects of music to master if you aren’t blessed with naturally good meter, and working with groups/teams, it’s also one of the most challenging aspects of keeping everyone on the same page and moving at the same rate.

Right now, we’re having a bit of a timing issue with one of my teams. The majority of us are motivated to keep moving forward, and one of us just isn’t. Our tempos aren’t matching. Our engine has a cylinder with a misfire, and it’s really affecting the efficiency and power of our vehicle. It’s not a malice thing – this teammate still seems to love at least the idea of what we’ve been doing. They’ve just kind of checked out. Part of it is a change in their lifestyle and part of it is not being able to do the main thing our team does, which is the unifying and motivating factor for basically all of us.

This isn’t exclusive to this team member. I’ve been in the same position in the not-too-distant past. I just couldn’t muster the energy or motivation to complete needed tasks and it held everyone back. Part of my problem is that the tasks I needed to complete were similar to tasks required by my day job, and I think at the time the last thing I wanted to do after spending all day at the computer was to spend MORE time there working on things that basically were a purposeful distraction from our usual endeavors, since those were not available to us due to the pandemic.

Now, motivating someone and getting their butt in gear is a tricky proposition, especially since just about everything we’re doing right now doesn’t necessarily support our main activity, so it all seems kind of pointless. But there are team members who want to create endlessly, and those of us who want to support but don’t always have the energy and motivation, and others who are down for whatever but not leading the charge on anything.

I wouldn’t call our situation a crisis, because once we’re doing our thing together again, all will return to what it was, but for right now, it’s really difficult.

I have a friend whose heart isn’t in what he’s doing right now musically, but like me he doesn’t want to disappoint anyone. He’s worried about their needs, but sort of torturing himself as a result because he’s just not having fun. Music isn’t really supposed to feel like work. I’ve found that even in the most “corporate” environments, I can find ways to make it very enjoyable to make music for people – even if we’re just the wallpaper. Music can be like solving problems – finding that perfect spot to put the chord stab or bass accent that propels the groove of that song you’ve played a thousand times. Living in those little moments can act as that spark plug to keep your cylinder firing. Finding ways to have everyone enjoy those little moments when the crowd is giving you nothing is the way to be an amazing band, because once you are getting that positive feedback, you’re just even better. You find those little magical moments, and get people singing and dancing, and then your whole outfit will be firing on all cylinders – a motor that propels everyone through their night. Powerful and fun, and a hell of a ride. I watched some footage from this friend’s current endeavors, and there’s something missing. That fire, the magic that happens when everyone is on the same page, driving toward the same goal, was missing. They were not bad, just missing that magic. Almost too measured, too self-aware at times, and a little too up their own butts (not my friend, mind you…the band as a whole).

I had a situation similar to his a few years back, but I wasn’t as invested personally with my bandmates, so it was much easier for me to quit. But it still was hard because I never want to let people down. In my situation, I was the only one who seemed to want to drive anything forward. The main guy was basically completely burned out. The one guy was going through the motions, doing the bare minimum. The third guy couldn’t even be bothered to remember how the songs went. And there I was, in the “new guy” musical arsehole role, trying to motivate people who were too selfish, too lazy, or too stupid to reach any sort of level above utter mediocrity. The more it dragged on, the less I wanted to do the work, until finally I was just done. It wasn’t worth it monetarily, spiritually, emotionally, or musically. Time to leave. And I did. And it was a very smart move. But it did lead to the end of that band. Which was probably a good thing, since they were long past done. I mean, when you join a band and immediately know their material better than they do? And it’s because they can’t find the motivation to recall it or work it up again? Junk that engine. It’s toast.

I realize my comparisons of teams and bands to actual engines is kind of silly, but people do like the saying “firing on all cylinders”, so I was having a bit of fun. The point is, getting a situation where you’re all comparably motivated, and wanting to move forward together at the same speed is rare and wonderful. And everyone who gets to experience it needs to savor it while it’s happening, because timing does have a way of screwing things up. It can make a band sound weak and uninspired, and it can make a groove fall apart, leaving you sitting at a dive bar watching four old crusty men attempting to be funky on Mustang Sally, playing it too fast and sounding whiter than the sheets they probably wear in secret, laying down a disjointed groove that only the drunkest townie will dance to.

I’m looking forward to giving my team’s engine a tune-up so we’re back firing on all cylinders again soon.

Peace be the journey. Black lives matter! Stay home, stay safe, wash your hands, wear your fucking mask, and physically distance. People are dying because people are getting lazy. We’re not done with this shit, and it’s not done with us, even if that loser some refer to as a President wants to act like it’s over.

TMS

Museday Mumblings (Vol. 21): A bit about my other great love…

Museday Mumblings (Vol. 21): A bit about my other great love…

Now, y’all know me as your faithful Musical Schizo, but if you zoomed back to when I was 15 years old, and things went slightly different, I might have ended up the Comedy Schizo. I’m sure in the multiverse there’s an alternate 2020 where I am a professional (or at least semi-professional) comedian or comedic actor.

I am a comedy NUT.

And the seeds of that were planted by my parents and their families. Funny always was HUGE in our house. I remember watching the variety shows of the 1970s. Trying to convince my dad to let me stay up to watch funny people on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson, or if I was REALLY lucky, to stay up on Saturday Night to catch my favorite show, Saturday Night Live. I can remember sitting on the stairs out of sight (if you are familiar with a split-level layout, with the stairs going up and coming down, you can see how that’s possible), listening to what they were watching, trying to be invisible, and almost always getting busted when I or one of my little brothers laughed at something.

So my earliest memories of laughing at things are Carol Burnett, Johnny Carson, SNL, Looney Tunes cartoons, Tom & Jerry, The Honeymooners, and various re-run sitcoms. This plus the fact that my family was always looking for the next funny thing really made me value what being funny brought to my tribe. Every chance I could I’d find funny things, because I loved laughing and I loved making people laugh. I’d try funny voices and mimic people. One of my earliest obsessions was a (very corny) Rich Little special from HBO in the mid-80s – Night of 42 Stars. I learned how to do the voices of all 42 stars. And I loved it. But there was a lot that really appealed to me in comedy, and I think a lot of it relates to a major thing I love in music. Surprises.

The key to a good joke is surprise. Whether it be a clever and not-obvious way of saying something, or tricking people to expect one resolution and hit them with another, the biggest laughs come from people hearing something completely unexpected. And for me, when I listen to music, there’s nothing that brings me greater joy than some interesting melodic, harmonic, or rhythmic turn, or an accent or timbre that I didn’t expect. Part of the reason I have such a broad appreciation for music is that those surprises abound. Even if you know the fundamentals and you think things are just obvious and pat, inspiring music will take those expected turns and then throw you something cool in that context. It’s done in all genres. And I love it.

There are many factors that easily could have turned me into The Comedy Schizo, but for some reason I never developed the confidence to actually go there. I’ll delve into the psychology of that later. But first, the background.

A big piece of The Comedy Schizo puzzle was film. Or really, movies. Since these weren’t exactly “fancy” and people don’t respect great comedy they do other sorts of films. Growing up in the renaissance of comedy movies from the mid 70s through the late 80s or so, the films of that era really formed a foundation for what I find funny. Trading Places, Caddyshack, Animal House, Ghostbusters, 48 Hours, Beverly Hills Cop, Police Academy (not so much its sequels), Airplane, The Bad News Bears, Slap Shot, all the John Hughes movies, all the Mel Brooks movies, Hollywood Shuffle, I’m Gonna Git You Sucka, Coming To America…it was all huge for me. Later it was Bill & Ted and Wayne’s World, which brought three things important to me together – friendship, music, and comedy. So there was a lot, and I’m just scratching the surface, because I even loved a lot of the crap that came from the 80s movie industry (yes, stuff like Short Circuit, Mannequin, etc.). And most of it holds up for me even still.

TV was massive, too. I also was obsessed with Saturday Night Live, especially when I got to be about 12 or 13 and got to stay up late on Saturday nights regularly. Those people were my heroes. I would catch the earlier versions of the show here and there, so I was very familiar with all the casts from about 1981-1984, with Eddie Murphy, Joe Piscopo, and those people, through that weird and awesome season in 1984-1985 when Christopher Guest, Martin Short, and Billy Crystal were on the show, but I think I watched it every week starting in about 1986. That’s where I was introduced to the brilliance of all the multi-talented people on the show – people who can do amazing characters, impersonations, and sometimes even sing! And I loved watching sitcoms. But more than film or any TV stuff, there was one type of comedy that has always been my favorite.

You see, I love stand-up comedy more than anyone I’ve ever met. I grew up during the stand-up comedy boom of the 80s, which coincided with the rise of cable, so stand-up on TV was everywhere, especially on basic cable. Of course I used to love seeing stand-ups on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. I loved all the older comedians like Don Rickles, Jonathan Winters, John Byner, and the aforementioned Rich Little. Their little bits always made me amazed that a guy could just stand up there and make people laugh. I probably liked that they were the center of attention, too.

My dad had a George Carlin album, FM & AM, that was in with all the records I stole from him when his turntable broke (it was me or one of my three brothers who did it – I can’t remember). I got a really awesome Magnavox stereo with a turntable, two tape decks, and a CD player for my birthday/Christmas in 1988 or so. Anyway – about the Carlin album. I’d seen George on the Tonight Show, and thought he was funny. My parents always talked about his “a place for my stuff” bit, and some of his older things they’d mention here and there. I found this record and was hooked. I listened to it over and over. Memorized it. I can still recite “The Hair Piece” to this day. I shared it with all my friends. A few of them got it. Most didn’t. But that was okay. It was MINE. And Carlin became an obsession. Especially after the release of his 1990 special “Doin’ It Again”, and for me, his greatest special ever, 1992’s “Jammin’ In New York”. Here we had a guy who grew up in an Irish-American Roman Catholic family in New York. He would talk in all the voices of my childhood, doing characters and weaving them into hilarious stories. The more I learned about him, the more I heard his comedy, the more the world made sense to the way I already felt about it. It desperately made me want to do the same sort of thing.

And with all the stand-up I watched, more and more comedians with different viewpoints made a huge impression on me. I always felt like my brain worked a little different from most people, and the more comedians I saw “behind the scenes” talking about comedy, the more I realized that my brain was more like the dark, sensitive brains of my favorite comedians. There’s a fundamental ability to completely step back from the emotions and humanity of a situation and see that situation in the most raw and real way to find the root of our interactions and, in many ways, the fundamental bullshit of basically everything we do. Our motivations, our manipulations, our posturing. Having what I call “comedy brain” is a tough way to see the world, but it is a wonderful level of “seeing the Matrix” if you care about living honestly. And the best comedians value that authenticity and honesty and it comes through their comedy. I felt that way. Strip away the bullshit. So finding stand-up really made me feel like I wasn’t such a weirdo for thinking about things the way I do.

So what happened? How did I not end up becoming “The Comedy Schizo” or whatever? Well, I’m probably not that funny, actually. I never felt like I was as funny as other people in my family. But even without that, I’m too much of a chicken to actually let go of the posturing and manipulation that is inherent in people like me who desperately need people to like them. I don’t really have a desire to offend people. I always want people to leave an interaction with me happier than when they arrived. I want those personal five-star reviews! Comedy doesn’t really work with that sort of mindset.

A lot of comedians end up doing stand-up because they desperately want attention – and perhaps adulation. But more often they just NEED to say what they’re going to say, and it has to be in front of strangers. If the audience loves it, great, bonus! But that’s not the point, really, for a lot of them. I don’t think my desire to be the center of attention ever trumped my desire to hide. I’m a weird person in that I feel like I’m inherently an introvert, in that being social and being around other people drains me, but I’m actually very good at pretending to be an extrovert. I attribute that to being the new kid so many times that I learned those coping strategies and techniques to gain people’s favor.

Another big reason I think it never happened is that I put comedy on a pedestal. I love it TOO much. I don’t want to get up there and do it terribly because I respect the craft and the art form. I used to be convinced this was the main reason why I wouldn’t do it. But I’ve come to the realization that this was just a rationalization and a defense mechanism. I know it takes about 10 years of solid stage time to actually get good at it, so I know not to expect anything when you start. I’m just scared.

An important thing to also know about me is that I don’t really have stage fright. At all. In fact, I feel very comfortable on a stage. Especially when standing there holding an instrument. So my fear isn’t even some kind of stage fright.

I think it all comes down to this: I got good at music, and more of my friends were music people, so I did music more. If I had gotten into improv or there was an open mic night in my little college town that was heavy on the comedy, life might have turned out differently.

I’m pretty happy that music ended up being number one for me. It definitely is more lucrative than stand-up if you’re not making stand-up your primary focus.

But I will always love comedy. And someday I’ll get my butt up on a stage and tell some jokes or some stories. Or do some voices. Or all of it. Maybe I’ll even sing some funny songs and put the two together.

Probably not the “guitar comedy”, though. That’s kind of hacky.

Thanks for taking this comedy journey with me. I hope you’re all safe, happy, and healthy, and even if things are rough you find ways to laugh. It truly is the best way to deal with the darkness of human existence.

TMS

P.S. Black lives matter, wash your hands, wear your mask, physically distance, and for fuck’s sake, vote for sanity if you’re American and eligible.

Museday Mumblings (Vol. 19): Creativity Doesn’t Care About Your Tools

Museday Mumblings (Vol. 19): Creativity Doesn’t Care About Your Tools

I spend a decent amount of time on message boards and in Facebook groups watching conversations between gear whores desperate to find the “next awesome piece of kit” that will finally let them express themselves as an instrumentalist, and get those ideas out. Of course, it’s utter bullshit.

Creativity has nothing to do with the tools you possess. It’s a bitter mistress. I’ve been over this many times on this blog. I get new gear, and I get NOTHING new out of it. I have all my same shit, and I write/create new stuff. There’s no consistency. And sadly, more often, nothing happens.

Right now, I have a pretty nice little setup in my studio. I have a stable of guitars and basses that I find enjoyable to play and that bring out different facets of my personality as an instrumentalist. I have a nice little Alesis electronic drum kit that allows me to pretend I can play drums. It has a USB port that allows me to record the MIDI from the drums so I can change the sounds and fix my mediocre playing. I have a couple of keyboards (one Korg, one Yamaha) with some great sounds that allow me to pretend I can play keyboards. I am an avid and long-time user of modeling gear, which recreates real guitar and bass rigs and all kinds of studio gear so I don’t have to own piles of vintage amps and speaker cabinets. I have a mixer that allows me to record its individual channels as separate tracks so I have complete control of my sound and can record multiple things at once. I have a new computer with great specifications that allows me to run the most modern and amazing Digital Audio Workstations (DAWs) and plug-ins (which are computer versions of those modeling things I was talking about earlier. All of these things are here, plugged in and ready to go. I could be recording music constantly.

But of course, I don’t.

Because I have been in a real creative drought. It started out with some self-editing, and then it just became a pattern of telling myself nothing is good enough. I’ve been trying really hard to allow myself to create without having any opinion about it as I go – instead judging it once I’ve gotten it out. This does work to some extent. But the problem I have now is that so much of what I’ve already done is kind of stuck, wallowing in its mediocrity. I don’t know how to make it better, and since I haven’t been creating new stuff, I have nothing to replace it with.

So to stoke the fires of creativity, I started writing on this blog on a regular basis. I talked about doing more videos like my “Bathroom Schizo” series, but couldn’t work out the details on that. Now that I have some new recording gear, that is DEFINITELY happening soon. I’ll probably start with a new one of those each week, likely starting the first week of October (I’m going to do a big pile of them and release them weekly). I’m trying to do my traditional daily “noodling” and I might start recording little videos of those noodles for Instagram. I feel like if I get in the mode of creating it will finally justify my outlay for all my wonderful equipment over the years. And it will assuage any guilt for doing nothing with the cool things I have to create stuff that someone with a ton of ideas could use to make great things.

In actually-creative news, my closest inspiration as a creator, my buddy and Chandler and The Bings bandmate Patrick Soler has taken the vocal stems from our “It’s Gonna Be Me” single and created his own version in a sort of synthwave-meets-trap remix. It’s rad, and it comes out on Friday. I will post the link on my Facebook page when it’s released. He also made an awesome video for it. Look out for that.

And please stay tuned for some more performances of covers and originals by your faithful Schizo. Definitely going to happen a lot coming up. Hopefully it will kick me back in to creator mode so I feel like I can express things and maybe write something good.

Plus, just posting this video because I thought it was awesome. I’m a big fan of Rick Beato, and his video from today was excellent, so here you go:

He has an amazing ear-training course available that I’m going to get once I have some extra cash. I feel like working on my relative pitch in this way, tied to the theory, is the key to a lot of other musical concepts for me. But we’ll see.

Thanks for reading. Stay safe and happy. Wash your hands, wear your mask, physically distance (not socially – we need each other, so get on the phone, video chat, whatever). And in case you didn’t remember – Black Lives Matter.

Peace be the journey!

TMS

Museday Mumblings (Vol. 16): Living Colour’s “Time’s Up” is 30

Museday Mumblings (Vol. 16): Living Colour’s “Time’s Up” is 30

Living Colour’s album “Time’s Up” is one of my favorite albums of all time. It’s the album that fully convinced me it was okay to play whatever the hell you wanted (likely creating “The Musical Schizo”). And it taught a little privileged white kid in Bakersfield, California (me) countless lessons about the experience of being black in America. It came out August 28, 1990. It is a classic, and features diverse and wonderful songwriting, virtuoso playing, and timeless production. Sadly most of the themes it covers have barely been dealt with in 30 years, but it set me on my path to be anti-racist and opened my eyes to a wider world both in thought and spirit and in musical groove and harmony, and I’m a better person and a better musician because of it. Thanks, fellas, and happy anniversary! (more below)

Corey Glover – vocals
Vernon Reid – guitar
Will Calhoun – drums
Muzz Skillings – bass
Ed Stasium – producer
Paul Hamingson – engineer

Notes on each track:

  1. Time’s Up – full-on NYC hardcore, Living Colour-style. Like Bad Brains went to jazz school. RIPPING bass playing on this one.
  2. History Lesson – more of an ambient piece with samples, but definitely included a lot of little bits of history I never knew.
  3. Pride – Will Calhoun with THE POCKET on this one. He wrote it, and it’s a direct message to white America in how they relate to black people and about how history is whitewashed to make things look less terrible for the white conquerors of “primitive” societies.
  4. Love Rears Its Ugly Head – One of the best “love” songs ever. Featuring one of the coolest guitar riffs ever and the biggest dynamic shift from clean and funky verses to “big rock” anthemic choruses. Also one of the jazziest guitar solos I’ve ever heard in a pop song.
  5. New Jack Theme – Crack ravaged urban communities in the late 80s. This tells that story. In the context of a manic rock song with some really great riffs and clever production.
  6. Someone Like You – Direct lessons of the urban black struggle in this country. Doesn’t pull any punches against anyone who hasn’t helped change things. And the second verse always made me profoundly sad. Moreso now since we’re still dealing with the same bullshit and people STILL refuse to accept the reality of structural racism against black people in this country. Black Lives Matter.
  7. Elvis Is Dead – seems like a silly concept on its face, but directly addresses the sad reality of the whitewashing of music – about how black music was only palatable to certain white people when it was delivered by a white face. And how even though black people are the reason for so much of Elvis’ great music (and he personally always acknowledged his influences, mind you – so this wasn’t really Elvis’ fault), the white racists who loved him still refuse to accept that reality or black faces in general. Featuring a great cameo from Little Richard and an amazing sax solo from Maceo Parker.
  8. Type – First single, probably the song you might know from the record (along with Love Rears Its Ugly Head). Slamming guitar riff with really cool harmonics (I like to think that Billy Corgan got the idea for the harmonics in the “Zero” riff because of this song…but who knows), and that perfect Living Colour blend of funk and hard rock, with an atmospheric, melodic, almost poppy-sounding chorus. “We are the children of concrete and steel…this is the place where the truth is concealed…this is the time when the lie is revealed…everything is possible, but nothing is real.”
  9. Information Overload – Could have easily been written in the age of the internet, but instead was amazingly prescient. With one of the most discordant, ridiculous, noisy intros on a “normal” rock song EVER. (Oh, that Vernon…always painting abstract art with sound…)
  10. Under Cover Of Darkness – Jazzy and sexy and nothing like anything else on this record. Amazing groove, amazing guitar solo, and a really great guest feature from Queen Latifah.
  11. Ology – a crazy bit of bass exploration from Muzz Skillings. Incredible use of different bass tones (including overdrive) and techniques to support the groove and the melody. A nice and inspiring (to bassists) little piece of music.
  12. Fight The Fight – Another song that sadly tells the same story that hasn’t really changed much since 1990, touching on the structural privilege of being white, and of being from means. It’s a lot easier to buy a ticket to the party of the “American Dream” when someone can front you some of the cash. Money begets money in our society, and those of us who started with none of it will most likely struggle to even get by.
  13. Tag Team Partners – A little quickie beat box/vocal improv groove featuring Doug E. Fresh.
  14. Solace of You – A beautiful, African-inspired song that is inspiring and hopeful and, to me, reminds you to dig deep into your essence when the outside world is pulling you away from who you know you are. Featuring one of my favorite guitar chord riffs EVER. And the first time I ever heard someone slide a natural harmonic. (Bass nerds will think that’s pretty cool – it’s a great little trick that only works really well on a fretless bass.)
  15. This Is The Life – Super atmospheric intro kicks into a heavy verse with another killer Vernon riff, segueing into a melodic chorus. Corey adapts his vocal to fit the vibe of the different parts of the song perfectly. Admonishes you to appreciate the life you have and work to make it the best it can be instead of living in a fantasy or being upset about what your life is not.

Wear your mask, wash your hands, don’t support fascists, Black Lives Matter, and be GOOD to each other.

Thanks so much for checking it out, and peace be the journey!

TMS

You Can’t Always Get What You Want…

You Can’t Always Get What You Want…

I have a serious issue now. I desperately want a $2100 bass. You see, Ernie Ball/Music Man came out with their new Stingray Special series, with roasted maple necks that have stainless steel frets and updated bodies that are lighter, and updated electronics that are punchier and quieter. Of course, it’s not happening. I don’t have that kind of cash.

Cut to a few weeks ago, where I was doing my normal Craigslist perusal, and I came across a guy up in Cedar Park selling my $2100 bass for a mere $1295! I literally did not have the funds to scrape together to get this incredibly-cheap offering of EXACTLY THE BASS I WANT – Black. Maple fingerboard. One pickup. Just like the Sterling Sub series that I’m playing now as my #1 bass, but lighter and more pro in every single way.

So I’ve been anguished about it for a couple of weeks now. And the ad has finally timed out on Craiglist, so no more drooling over that which I can not possess. I did send the guy an email basically begging him to keep in touch if he still happened to have the bass next month (since I plan on scraping together money and selling things). I’ve heard nothing back. I’m sad.

So what does this tell me? Well, I snoozed and most likely lost. And I simply cannot justify spending almost $1300 on a bass, even if it is the $2100 bass I so desperately wish to own.

But if on the odd chance I do hear back from Allen from Cedar Park…well, I guess we’ll see how my willpower handles it.

I don’t NEED this bass…but damn if it wouldn’t be a hoot to have it!

In other news: Things with The Bings are going as wonderfully as before, better, actually, because my voice has been solid. We’ve been killing our Thursday shows at Stereotype, with people showing up basically just to see us and then clearing out once we’re done (except on the Saturday gig – they hung out – we wish they’d hang out on the Thursdays, too, but it’s nice that they’re there for us specifically). Not sure what the future holds with that. 2019 might be something different there. We’ll have to see. I do look forward to seeing some of my “buddy bands” there, though (like HighRoad, Zoodust, and especially Hit & Run). They’re all being booked when we can’t make the shows.

I’ve been cleaning things up in my studio and getting things all wired up for proper use in preparation for work beginning in earnest on some recordings. I know if you look at the 10 years or so I’ve been writing this blog that that seems like more of the same promised bullshit, but this time I really have all the pieces together and am feeling some creativity, so it might not be any of the songs I’ve already written – it might be writing new ones from all the progressions, melodies, and riffs I’ve been recording on my iPhone for the past six or seven years. I’ve got good software and plugins and I’m raring to go. Now it’s just finding the moments of quiet necessary for getting things down. I think I can manage it. 🙂

I’m probably heading out to a jam night tomorrow to see some friends and maybe rock out a few tunes I haven’t played in a while. I might even see if they’ll let me play drums on something. I haven’t done that in front of an audience since a Slaphappy gig in Georgia about 15 years ago.

On the “gear I actually own” front, the HX Stomp has been PERFECTION for my gigs with The Bings. And I got a new set of quad-driver in-ears for cheap on Amazon that have been perfection as well. It’s crazy – I haven’t even been running a speaker or amp. Just BIG FAT TONE from a teeny tiny pedal.

Thanks for reading my update, and have a wonderful Christmas and New Year – if that’s your thing.

Peace, love, and good happiness stuff…

TMS

Thoughts on “Artistry”

Thoughts on “Artistry”

(note – Just some thoughts. I wrote this piece back in March, but am finally publishing it now. Not sure why I never hit publish.)

As someone who has spent the majority of his musical life as background music for people getting drunk, it’s hard for me to relate to what it must be like to actually create music as art. Sure, I’ve written my fair share of songs, and I have pretty strong opinions on what I like and don’t like about things I and others have created, but I’ve never seen myself as an artist, or my work as artistry.

I wonder sometimes if that’s just me avoiding actually putting myself out there for judgment or if it’s putting art on a pedestal, or a mix of both. I definitely am proud of some of the stuff I’ve created, and I’m definitely proud of some of the ways I’ve put my stamp on other people’s work through my experience in cover bands of various types.

I’m inherently not a precious person when it comes to creating musical things, which is to my detriment, I think. I do believe I’d have something to offer as an artist. I just carry this inbuilt suspicion and animosity toward the very act of being precious, with the notable exception that I’m all in if it’s an artist I love – they can be as precious as they feel they need to be and I’m still eating it up. But I wonder if it really does come down to fear that nothing I could ever do would measure up to the things that I like.

Stepping away from music for a bit – when I was first creating audio productions, long before I worked in radio production, I was very particular about things being “just so”. I really crafted the things I created with a lot of care. When I started making commercials, I would do the same, and take tons of time just trying to get them perfect. Once I worked in radio production full time, I learned that I simply did not have enough time to spend hours on one 30-second commercial. I really had to speed it up to get things done. Then I became a production director all by myself, and had no time to be precious about it – I just had to get things done.

One might think I’d be able to carry over that “get it done” attitude to music, but the lack of hard deadlines in music has kept me from really feeling like I’ve ever accomplished anything. People flog the “art is never finished, only abandoned” cliche, but it is a real trap if you think you can keep working on something forever. That’s what I’ve been doing with a lot of my own music. Nothing feels good enough for me, and almost every time I’ve shared something, it’s mostly met with indifference, which reinforces the idea that I’m simply not doing anything interesting. Which is largely true, if I’m being brutally honest with myself. I have my retread pop punk-style songs, and my retread power pop songs and my retread sort of singer-songwritery songs. Nothing is all that “me”.

I grapple with the whole “me” thing as a writer. It reminds me of a time in high school. I was doing my normal thing of talking in every voice but my own (doing accents and characters and basically being a teenage Dana Carvey wannabe) and my best friend Brandon had grown tired of my antics, grabbed me, and said, “What do YOU sound like?” It’s funny how much that resonated. It went far beyond just doing a surfer dude voice followed by a fey German accent. It sticks in my head to this day, but it’s morphed into something even bigger. Perhaps even something menacing for me as a creator. What do I sound like? Honestly, I’ve been avoiding that for years, mostly because every time I create something, I really hate what I sound like when I’m not basically doing a style impression of some other artist I admire. Who am I kidding? I hate that, too, because it’s not original!

Which brings me to the whole point of this spiel: Artistry. How does one define it? I struggle with it all the time, because I feel like 25 years playing in cover bands has basically robbed me of any artistry of my own. I am a pretty complete musician, because I’ve played many different genres of music and can slide into most musical situations quite comfortably, but I never feel like an artist or feel like anything I do is truly artistic. I’ve gotten close to it from time to time, especially during improvisational performances at jam nights, and coming up with parts to complement the crazy ways we redo things in Chandler and The Bings, but with the music I’ve composed, I don’t know that I’ve ever gotten there, to a place where I’d consider it art. I’ve definitely tried.

Thanks for reading!
TMS

Musings from my new machine

Musings from my new machine

My 44th birthday is next Saturday. I officially am starting to feel old. My lovely fiancee decided that she wanted to do something super nice for me for the occasion, so she purchased a really nice 2-in-1 laptop for me, which is the “new machine” mentioned in the title of this post. Even better, she decided to let me have it early! I am so excited because this allows me to take any sort of productions I’d like to do portable. It’s got more than enough power to do everything I need, recording-wise, and it plays nice with all my recording software. I will be able to use it to write and blog more, and be more creative in general.

I really had committed to doing more creative work earlier this year, but I somehow let life get in the way again. I’m still not doing what I really want to do in that respect, though I did come up with a good song idea for Chandler And The Bings that we should be adding to our show soon. It’s just going to take some vocal work and “Bingsification” to really make it special, but it’s got GREAT potential. I’ll have to be satisfied with that for now.

As for my Bings, we’re kicking every type of ass. We just did a benefit last night for hurricane victims where we raised a small pile of money, and it was a really fun show. Listening to my live recording of the show, it’s not as musically “there” as a lot of other bands I’ve done, but it is more energetic and fun, and the crowd is loving every minute.

The one thing that’s truly been nagging at me musically is not playing any shows where I’m doing most of the singing. I really didn’t think I’d miss it as much as I do. I like being bass guy, harmony guy, and once-in-a-while lead vocalist for the Bings, but it’s kind of weird how much of a hole the lack of lead singing leaves just mostly being an instrumentalist.

Anyway, that’s the update from here. Peace be the journey and #leadwithlove!
TMS

Further Musings on The Bings (and Chandler Bing)

Further Musings on The Bings (and Chandler Bing)

Chandler Bing was by far my favorite character on the sitcom “Friends”. I had already been a huge fan of Matthew Perry from some of his earlier shows, and he’s the reason that I even decided to watch “Friends” when it hit the airwaves in 1994. Well, not the only reason, because I had seen Courteney Cox in a few other things at that point and was a little obsessed with her. But together they were for sure a win for me – funny quippery from a familiar face and an absurdly beautiful woman I could watch? Sign me up. It premiered when I was in college. September of 1994 – so it was my second year living up in the dorms. Friends became an event back in these pre-widespread-internet days. Groups of coeds would gather in the TV lounges every Thursday night for this bit of “Must-See TV”. At this point in my life, most of my friends were young women, so of course I was going to be roped in for the Thursday night festivities even if I hadn’t been a Matt Perry and Courteney Cox fan. I thought the show was a little ridiculous, but I really loved their wisecracking ways, and aside from Ross, who was a whiny bitch, and Rachel, who embodied pretty much everything that could go wrong with a woman to me, I really enjoyed the show. It was so thoroughly white-person-90s that it seemed targeted directly to the Gen-X temporary denizens of my very small, very white college town. And every time you hear someone say, “I was SO not happy” or something to that effect (the emphasized negative), you have “Friends”, specifically Matthew Perry as Chandler Bing, to thank for that.

So how does it all relate to music or me being the Musical Schizo? Well, there was another character on the show, Phoebe Buffay, who was an aspiring singer-songwriter and would play her hilariously bad songs at “Central Perk”, the coffee house where all the Friends hung out (and one of them worked). Around that time, perhaps a year later, a coffee house opened up in my very small, very white college town called the Java Hut. There were plenty of Phoebe Buffays that played that place. One of them was actually not terribly bad, and he was the roommate of a friend of mine. This singer-songwriter would enlist my help because I was the only person he knew who owned a PA system. I’d cart my rig (Peavey XR600B and two 10″-12″-horn column speakers) down to the Java Hut and get it all set up so he could play his music for the caffeinated clientele. He wrote songs about all kinds of things – life, love, Star Wars – he just wrote endlessly. His notebook of songs was ENORMOUS. At this point, I think I had written about 20 songs, and they were all pretty terrible blues songs or things forced into some neat riff or chord progression that I had come up with that didn’t really have a story or any sort of decent melody. After meeting this person, I was inspired to write more – and better – and to figure out what it was that I really wanted to say. I went through a five- or six-year period where I wrote a lot of songs, most of them still terrible, but more and more they started to represent things on my mind, or stories about characters in my life or characters in my head. Then I got married, had children, got full-time work, and life started to distract and intervene.

They say major life events like getting married or divorced and having children can really inspire creativity, but weirdly my most creative periods have come when I’ve had nothing going on. When life is really boring and I have nothing else to do. Periods where I’ve gotten over the initial grief or joy of some big life event and psychologically feel “okay”. My most recent big tough life event was probably my divorce in 2013, and to date I’ve gotten basically zero songs out of it. I did meet a wonderful woman and she’s inspired a song or two, but my writing output has been utter shit for the past 10 years. When I have the time I don’t have the energy, when I have the energy I don’t have the time. I’m sure many creative people have the same issues. It doesn’t help that I generally assemble my song demos in the same digital audio workstation software I use for my day job. When I come home from staring at that for eight hours, I’m not exactly inspired to stare at it any longer just to get song ideas down. I’ve thought about using other media to write stuff, and every time I have something vaguely inspiring I make a note of it on my phone’s built-in recorder. Thus far, that’s resulted in one new song. The song inspired by my fiancee but not directly about her necessarily. It’s been through a couple of demos and I’m not fully satisfied with it just yet, but it is quite a stylistic departure for me:

But moving on, I have in my head that I really want to be more creative. I feel like I want to write new and better songs again. I have a studio space where this is possible. But it’s not happening because I can’t decide exactly how I want to focus my creative musical energy. I don’t know if I want to write new songs or improve myself as a musician in general, by working on my relative pitch and understanding of theory, so that when I do write, I can connect things more easily. So my life with music has been one of pleasant distractions for the past few years, since my songwriting output went down the tubes. I’m not sure if the pleasant distractions are WHY my songwriting output is in the toilet, but they have been very pleasant – my long and satisfying (if up and down) run with Roman Holiday, my abbreviated tenure with Nudge, my many fill-in gigs with Texas Players and Mark Chandler, my even-more-abbreviated time with Flext, my false start that was The Dangerfields, and all of my wonderful solo gig experiences. Which brings us back to my current pleasant distraction, Chandler and The Bings.

I detailed in my last post that they have managed to soften the hard candy shell that represents my “musical perfectionish” tendencies (not “-ist” because that’s unrealistic). We come up with clever reworked versions of songs and that’s pretty inspiring – to hold on to the essence of the song and make it relatable but put a new spin on it that better fits our personality as an ensemble. It’s the same bit that I found endlessly inspiring working things out with Roman Holiday, creating rock band versions of 80s synth-pop tunes. Our wonderful shows with engaged and happy audiences have made me understand more and more that if you just have fun, they’ll have fun with you. I want to carry that fun back into my creative endeavors, so I think my next plan is a fundamental lifestyle shift. Taking a little bit of time every day to just create something, good or bad. Just to remind myself that it’s fun and that I love creating things. Because I DO! So, much like realizing that I need to have some physical exercise every day, and committing to that, I’m going to make the commitment to have a little creativity exercise every day, too. This blog post is the first example of that. Musing about life in the mid-90s, my love for “Friends” and how inspiring it can be to just love creating music, art, whatever. I AM A CREATIVE. It’s time to start behaving like one again. A creative that doesn’t create is nothing. I’m tired of being nothing.

Related unrelated comment: I once wrote an episode of Friends in college with my wonderful roommate Mary because we had a TV Writing and Criticism class together. It was great. Well, we thought it was great. But it was certainly great fun to create!

Expect new stuff from me soon, because I’m going to document my creations here on the blog.

Thank you for reading, and peace be the journey!
TMS

P.S. Come see a Chandler and The Bings show – it may not be perfect, but it sure is FUN!

The Dangerfields, Solo shows, keyboard, fitness, etc.

The Dangerfields, Solo shows, keyboard, fitness, etc.

Updates:

The Dangerfields are still in progress, and we’ve played one more show since my last post. Okay, that’s not really accurate, because it’s not The Dangerfields, really if Lee isn’t playing drums. But it was a nice try, although an overally unpleasant experience for a variety of reasons. (Kudos to Ernie for filling in and doing a good job) We’ve had a couple of rehearsals since then and the last one was very inspiring – we’re starting to sound like a BAND – which is really good. Finding time to schedule shows around our lives and Lee’s other band is the next trick, but we’ll get to that. So life is good in the world of no respect. 🙂

I booked a few more solo shows at Scoreboard, and I’m very excited to be back there. I’m going to try and make my PA and light rig even more simple for easier setup-teardown, which is a delightful challenge.

I bought a Korg X50 synth at a pawn shop, and it’s already inspiring me with its sounds. I’m excited to become a better keyboardist, and I might even learn some songs on it for the solo gigs. Wouldn’t that be weird?

Finally, I’m back at the gym on a regular basis. Time to get in shape and stay in shape. It’s already making my joints feel better, and once I’ve worked out a way to eat better with my weird sensory food issues on top of the regular gym activity, I’ll get lighter and will be able to start exercising a little harder.

I have been inspired to improve my overall musicianship, but I also really want to tap into whatever emotions are flowing through me now. I’m very happy with my life in general – my work is pleasant, my home situation is awesome, and I feel very loved. And that sort of peace usually keeps me from being all that expressive with music – I just don’t write all that much. I have had some serious moments of worry and pain, though, with family far away, first from Hurricane Matthew (everyone is okay, but it was scary), and then through a friend’s loss this past weekend.

One of my best friends in the world, both musically and non-musically, just lost his brother. I can’t really imagine the emotions he’s feeling, but it’s made me very, very sad, because his brother was always such an encouraging spirit, supporting our musical endeavors and really just showing us “the love”. If I ever had to do a crying scene in a movie, I’d think about losing one of my brothers – the very idea is that level of pain for me, and I wish there was something I could do to help my friend through this horrible time.

I wish there was a way to express it as well as I think Neil Peart and Rush did on this song:

The world will miss you, Darin.

Peace be the journey, all!
TMS