Recording

"Sometimes there's nothing you can do about it if it's not happening - it's clearly just a bad night." - Peter Green, on performing

Isn't it odd how you'll remember a quote that perfectly captures the essence of a concept, and then when you look it up, the quote isn't so perfect after all? Well, I recently remembered this quote while noticing the difference in my playing ability from night to night (during my daily practice sessions). Every once in awhile I'll have a really good night, where my playing will be just spot on, and it even impresses myself. Other nights, are clearly just bad nights. For better or worse, most nights sit somewhere in between those extremes.

Tonight was pretty bad, which I think I can blame on yesterday being a particularly good night. I got a little carried away on the new licks I've learned for the song I'm working on (which sound fantastic, as does the entire song, which I am extremely excited about - it'll be a while before I learn the whole thing, though). And tonight my fingers are still feeling a bit rough, so I didn't have that delicate touch I need to nail every note. But, even as bad as my playing was tonight, I'm still pretty impressed overall with how it sounds, this being my first recorded practice (in years).

You see, I got a handheld digital recorder for Christmas. Which I asked for. Which will make recording (and sharing) my music (well, not *my* music, but the music I play) infinitely easier than it was with the analog tape technology I previously had. I wanted it primarily to record my live performances at Open Stage, but I think it will prove to be an invaluable aid to my daily practices as well, judging from what I'm currently listening to.

I think, despite the songs I'm playing not being mine, I would love to record a whole album of covers. Not complicated recording, but just a live/live in the studio sort of thing (depending on whether I use practices or Open Stages). With the technology I now have, it's easy enough to record every single one of my practices. All I need to do is dedicate a[nother...] hour or so daily to listening back to those recordings. I imagine most of the recordings will be so-so, but I don't have to keep them all (or even most of them). As long as I'm recording when the next good night comes up, I'm bound to have some great material. Or, if a particular song sounds good on a particular night, I can grab it. And then either use it, or replace it with a better version that comes up on a different day. This plan requires some time to get good results, but can you imagine what those results could be?

There are some complications, however. I set the recorder up right in front of my amp tonight, and it sounds great. Vocals are nonexistant, though. I'm thinking about redoing the whole setup. I'd like to have more practice playing at loud volumes, after all. When I go to Open Stage, I'm still too much out of my league, despite practicing amplified regularly. When I turn the volume up, then every little sound I make resonates throughout the room. Add to that the stress of playing in front of an audience, and it can be a mess. I do my best to get through, but I think I could stand to get more experience playing at loud volumes.

The only way that would really be feasible, for me, would be to practice through headphones. Then I could turn it up without bothering anyone, or starting to feel too self-conscious. To do that, I'd need to invest in a good pair of headphones (as I keep saying I'm meaning to do). I already have a microphone and a second amp I could pump the vocals through. I'd just need to somehow redirect the signal from both amps into the headphones. Then, I could find a way to simultaneously record from that signal as I listen to myself play. It sounds complicated, but I think it's doable. With the right splitters...

(Artist's Rendition)
There's even more I've been thinking about doing, but this is even less concrete at this stage. It's about filling out my sound. The songs I play would sound so much better with some backing. Ignoring for now the possibility of playing in a band, there are two options. 1) Employ a simple metronome. This would, at the very least, get me in practice for playing on time, and (hopefully) for being focused enough not to make mistakes in the middle of the song, since it would be harder to get back on track. This would be even moreso the case with option 2) which would be to record more substantial backings, specific to the songs I play, which I could then play through my looper/sampling pedal. Where I'd get those backings is a good question, though. I could try ripping some songs (the pedal itself has an option to record a song with the lead track off or something, I tried it once and it was neat, can't guarantee it'd work appropriately for every song, though). I could also try learning those parts (ambitious much?), which might mean having to learn [at least simple] drum and bass parts.

As I said, this part is all very much speculation. But at the very least, if I could get some good recordings of what I'm currently doing, that alone would be pretty damn cool.

Zharth's Music Log Revisited - Slow Blues 2

For those who didn't know or don't remember, I ran a "music log" from the summer of 2007 to the summer of 2008, for which I picked a theme each week and then posted a song every day of that week which related in some way to the theme, and added a few comments about that song. It was awesome. You can view the archives here, in case you're curious about what the themes were, or what songs I used.

I bring it up now for a specific reason. And to revive (or rather, produce a sequel to) one of my favorite themes - slow blues. After all, the term "slow blues" describes what is probably my top favorite style of music. Well, it just so happens that there was one song I really wanted to use for the original theme, but had to leave out because I didn't have the song at the time. And - you guessed it - I have that song now. So, I now present you with Slow Blues 2 - seven songs in the slow blues theme, all at once, and available for listening for a limited time only:

The Allman Brothers Band - Stormy Monday (Live) [At Fillmore East, 1971]
Comments: We'll start the "week" with a song that could have easily made the first iteration of this theme. What probably happened was either that I was saving the song for a different theme (like, perhaps, a day of the week theme, or a weather theme) and ended up never using it, or perhaps more likely, I didn't want to overrepresent Duane Allman, who appeared on another track (Boz Scaggs' rendition of Loan Me A Dime), that I absolutely had to have for that theme. Well, here it is now, and here he is again, accompanied by dueling partner Dickey Betts in a slow and stormy live performance of, as Gregg Allman (I presume) introduces it, an old T-Bone Walker song. This is one of my long-time slow blues favorites.

Stevie Ray Vaughan - Tin Pan Alley (aka Roughest Place In Town) [Couldn't Stand The Weather, 1984]
Comments: This is the song I wanted the first time around, that I didn't have. It's a long, slow, despairing blues that perfectly suits the theme, and that I have been fond of since first listen. As a bluesman who attained popularity in the eighties, Stevie Ray Vaughan was following in the footsteps of some truly legendary players, including among some of his most visible influences the likes of Jimi Hendrix and Albert King. But Stevie was no imitator - he was true blue - and able to weave together surprisingly well the threads of pop rock and traditional blues. His tragic death in a helicopter crash in 1990 was an enormous loss for the music world.

ZZ Top - Blue Jean Blues [Fandango!, 1975]
Comments: Texas trio ZZ Top are somewhat of a strange breed, melding chops with style, soul with pop - but there's no question that they have the talent for playing good, crunchy, no-nonsense rock n roll. Guitarist Billy Gibbons deserves all the respect he gets (perhaps more), and on this track, he shines - in a sort of unassuming, but highly effective, way. Blue Jean Blues sounds like it could be a parody of the blues, but it's sung and played with an unwavering poker face, and though relatively short for a slow song, is very, very sweet.

Lynyrd Skynyrd - I Need You [Second Helping, 1974]
Comments: Lynyrd Skynyrd, well-known for their triple guitar attack, are kings of Southern swagger, but this track proves that they aren't incapable of tapping into the blues. From their sophomore album, Second Helping, I find that this track goes a long way in making up for the kick-off Sweet Home Alabama - undoubtedly a song of world-class popularity, but quite played-out in my opinion. I Need You slows it down and pulls out the requisite soul that is inherent in the blues.

Neil Young - On The Beach [On The Beach, 1974]
Comments: I'll bet you didn't expect to find a Neil Young song on this list, but though it may not be a strictly traditional blues, this is a very bluesy song with its heart in the right place. The album it's named after (or quite possibly the other way around) is among the infamous "ditch trilogy" which also includes Time Fades Away and Tonight's The Night, which Neil recorded in the early-to-mid seventies in a dark period following the drug-related deaths of two musician friends. On The Beach actually contains three different songs named as Blues, but this is the track that stands out for me.

Robin Trower - I Can't Wait Much Longer (Live) [Live, 1976]
Comments: Known (though not especially well, unfortunately) for the Bridge of Sighs album (and title track, especially), ace guitarist Robin Trower has much more to offer potential fans than what the mainstream has given him credit for. Including this anxious, moody track, originally recorded for his first album, Twice Removed From Yesterday (every bit as good as Bridge of Sighs, which I could also say of For Earth Below). And while the studio version is good, I couldn't resist this live version, from the excellent live album from 1976, featuring Trower's band truly at the top of their game (with, as Trower announces at the very end of the track, James Dewar on vocals).

Steamhammer - Twenty-Four Hours [Steamhammer, 1969]
Comments: Steamhammer is probably my top favorite entirely obscure band. I learned of them by way of guitarist Martin Pugh, who also played in the one-off band Armageddon, which featured vocalist/blues harpist Keith Relf shortly before his untimely death (while trying to play electric guitar in a bathtub, as the rumors go), who was the leader of the top guitar supergroup of the sixties, The Yardbirds - which featured the likes of Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, and Jimmy Page throughout its days (we're talkin' true rock royalty here). Steamhammer is a modest act, but they've got a killer sound that I really dig. Get a taste of it with this mellow rendition of a blues more popularly sung by the legendary Muddy Waters.

Season's Greetings

Here's wishing you and yours a merry XXXmas, and a happy nude year!

Monster

Every day I wake up around the time that the local rock station, which wakes me up, plays what is called a "deep cut", by request. It's basically a classic song that doesn't get much radio play - either because it was never popular as a single, or because its popularity has waned over the years. Needless to say, the deep cuts are far more interesting than the other 99% of the material the corporate radio stations (this one the same as all the others) play.

Some days I'm awake enough to consciously register what song is played, other days I'm not. Today I was, and the song played was Steppenwolf's epic three-part Monster/Suicide/America. It's a great song, one that I've put on a Collection in the past, though I don't hear it often. It also runs on for a good nine minutes or so - it doesn't feel overlong, but that's surely a good enough reason not to give it regular radio play.

So I listened closely (more than usual anyway) to the lyrics as the song played today, and I couldn't help remarking at how poignant they are. And you hear this about old media from time to time, but it's really true that the song is every bit as relevant today as it was back when it was written, right around the turn of the seventies. I think it just might be one of the best political songs I know of. It certainly paints a fantastic portrait of America. I remember Quinn in the Morning used to use the chorus from the third part of the song to open his radio show every day, years ago, but the song has much more value than just that novelty, I assure you.

Burning Photos

I know it's old news by now (over a year old), but every once in awhile I think about the photos I lost at Burning Man when my camera disappeared in the throng of people circling the smoldering ruins of the Man, after I had stripped off everything to join the festivities. As amazing an experience as Burning Man was, losing that camera is an unfortunate scar on the event. Not that I blame Burning Man for it, though. It was just a sad twist of fate.

But the photos I took there were once in a lifetime (unless I ever have the opportunity to go back). Not only was it Burning Man, which is a completely unique event, but it was also in the middle of the desert. When am I gonna find myself in the middle of the desert again? What a location. And furthermore, it was one of the few places I know of where you can roam naked through crowds of people, without hardly attracting a second glance, taking pictures as you go.

Speaking of which. I remember taking a few pictures out in front of Center Camp. I set up my camera beside my bike (you should have seen the contraption I built by combining my sun umbrella with the bike, and my attempt to anchor it enough to prevent the whole damn thing from blowing away in the wind), then went and stood center frame, with the camp behind me not too far in the distance, and the regular passage of people to either side of the path I was on. I remember some guy biking between me and the camera during one of my attempts, and I'm pretty sure he ruined the shot. Not his fault, I know, just a funny and somewhat frustrating coincidence.

I also took some great shots in the middle of a dust-storm, with me just far enough away from the camera to be partially though not wholly obscured by the dust. The dust in those storms was like a granular fog. I also remember getting some cool pictures of a dust devil that roamed through the city - I was at a perfect vantage point to get the perspective of it against the city, from just inside the border of the central circle of the playa.

Other shots I'll miss are the ones I took out on the deep playa, both during the day and during the night. During day, I took some great 'walking on the moon' type shots, including one with me in a despairing pose, which I already had a title planned for. I don't remember specifically what it was going to be, but it involved a cynical reference to friends/companions/guidance from others, that sort of thing. The idea being that some people say that everybody has somebody, when in truth there are some who are truly alone.

At night, I took some amazing shots. I don't know that they'd turn out that great, given the perspectives involved, but they'd be an awe-inducing reminder of the view from the trash fence deep playa at night. The city glowing and pulsing almost beyond the limit of hearing, spread out flat along the horizon at a wide angle, but squished vertically onto the surface of the earth, with an immense stretch of darkness above and below. Or, I might have tried to take shots of the stars, which were absolutely gorgeous from all the way out there. I don't know if that camera I had then was up to the task, but the stars were gorgeous regardless. You could see the Milky Way clearly. Too damn romantic a place to scope out without a date, but then again, it really makes you feel small and alone in the universe.

Even if I couldn't get the camera, or more importantly, the photos back, I still can't help being curious as to what happened to it. Was it tossed into the fire? Did it otherwise find its way into the fire (e.g., kicked unintentionally)? Was it picked up by someone? And if so, what was done with it? Was it tossed out? Was it 'refurbished'? Were my photos just deleted, just like that? Or are they still out there, somewhere, waiting to be rediscovered by historical anthropologists thousands of years from now? And what was with that one guy who emailed me after the festival, in response to my Lost & Found inquiry, who claimed to have my camera, but never responded to me after that? I never did get my camera back... What was it all for?

Questions of a thousand dreams...

In Memory of Elizabeth Reed

Or 'Liz Reed', for short, has always been one of my favorite Allman Brothers songs (along with the more rocking Whipping Post, and others), ever since my first listen to At Fillmore East. What I like about Liz Reed, beside the fact that it's an instrumental both beautiful and powerful, is that the song is very well organized, with solo sections set out for the various band members, in true jam band fashion. The song opens up with some beautiful melodies (accompanied by the band's trademark harmonies), before diving into a set of solos. Guitarist Dickey Betts, who penned the song, takes the first solo, followed by Gregg Allman on the organ, which leads into Duane Allman's furious solo, followed by a short drum break, and then the song concludes with a reprise of the main melody. As expected, the song often stretches out in live format to truly epic proportions. But even in its relatively concise form as recorded in the studio, clocking in at around just seven minutes, it's still a compelling track.

Thanks to a video link via Stickman, I've taught myself the main portions of the song. I'm gonna look into trying to learn one or both of the guitar solos (a man can dream), but even without them, it's still immensely fun to play. Now, about the rest of my band...

I Want To Believe

Because the phantom reader whom you, unknown reader, never hear from isn't satisfied in letting me rest...


The X-Files: I Want To Believe

Now, if you told me that it's been a decade since I stopped watching The X-Files, I'd actually be inclined to believe you (whether I want to or not). Come to think of it, the first X-Files movie was released (according to IMDb) in 1998. WAIT, IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE? I was a high school freshman in 1998. O_O

Anyway.

I wanted to see this, the second X-Files movie when it came out a summer or two ago, but it spent like a week in theaters (curse you, theaters), so no go. But I just watched it. And it was pretty good. Whatever you might say about the premise, I wasn't expecting it to be classic X-Files, just on account of the time lapse alone. But, I thought it was a successful homage to classic X-Files. As a movie, it didn't have the kick and the epicness (nor the aliens) of the first X-Files movie, but I enjoyed it. And it felt like a good finale to the franchise (regardless of whether or not it will be).

Mulder and Scully have moved on - together, but on. Neither of them work at the FBI any longer. Scully has pursued her dream of being a doctor - a real doctor - and Mulder has secluded himself like a hermit in a remote house in snowy...West Virginia? Or somewhere. His work room is pasted with news clippings and actually looks pretty much like his office at the FBI looked (complete with the iconic poster). Also, he's apparently wanted by the FBI for his crackpot theories. Or something.

Well, just when you thought you were out, the FBI has a way of pulling you back in. And yes, certain themes in this movie, while they may or may not have been overtly meant as such, they did have a vague Milleniumistic flavor. It seems that in this movie, Mulder and Scully, who have finally gotten together (and I do mean together), face many of the problems Frank Black and his wife faced - the dilemma of "retirement", in Mulder's case, and whether he can truly ever escape the demons that led him into the field, and whether or not the two of them can keep the darkness that their previous lives repeatedly confronted them with at bay. Et cetera.

So, the FBI wants Mulder back (and they can only get to him through Scully) for help in one specific case, where they have a psychic (who also happens to be a priest and a convicted child molester - on top of whether or not to believe his abilities, there is the question of *should* we believe his visions, considering his character, and where are the visions coming from - the attic, or the basement, so to speak?) helping them track down a fellow FBI agent gone missing. Eventually, it all leads to a black market organ trade/stem cell research group operating incognito on abducted (and thus quite unwilling) human subjects.

So there's a lot going on, and there's a lot of interpersonal dynamics between Mulder and Scully, and though they may not have the pizzazz of their younger selves in the same roles, they are actually quite interesting to see, in a sort of "ten years later" capacity. You don't get to see that with all of your favorite characters. And there are enough nods to classic X-Files fans, also. Mulder's introductory speech is classic Fox Mulder, and though he shaves later, I think, while different, the beard look actually suited him. And his sister does come up briefly as a topic of concern. Scully is still battling with her religious devotion, and its conflict with her skepticism. And another classic character makes a triumphant (if brief) return (and no, I'm sorry, but it's not Krycek...).

I don't think there's a whole lot of point in continuing to ramble on, so I'll stop there. I'll still need to watch the rest of the TV series at some point, as it is the best [English] television show I've ever watched; though I kind of lost interest around that point that Mulder dropped off the cast list. But I had other things going on in my life at that time as well. At any rate, this movie was a satisfactory coda to the series.