I'm starting a band. And this is what we will look like.

Partially inspired by Lemon Peele's recent Ladies' Rock Camp experience, in which completely normal women with normal jobs and no performance experience formed perfectly normal bands and played a gig within 3 days, I have decided that what's-the-big-deal-about-people-of-like-minds-playing-music-together-I-mean-when's-it-ever-gonna-be-just-the-right-time-Virginia-because-the-only-way-to-start-it-is-to-start.

As you guys know, I've recorded one song so far.  But each of my songs calls for a different instrumental set-up and I'd like to get really imaginative, so, rather than producing and fleshing out my list of 30-some songs in the solitude of my password-protected eye-scan-for-entry vacuum-sealed downstairs lair, it's time to do this thing right. Like, with people.

Last night's decision made, I biked out to Coney Island and back today with my friend, Whirlwend, to get in the proper mindset for an artists' date this afternoon at Ozzie's. While she sketched some far more sophisticated pieces (she sells micro-watercolors, ladies and gents, and they're uncommonly good), I dreamed up a picture of the band: Spotsylvania's Marching Knights.

Here they (we) are! [CLICK TWICE FOR CLOSE-UPS.]

Though my preferences are expressed clearly in the sketch, I am flexible on gender, personal style, and facial hair (read: the trombonists don't all have to be bald). I have favorites already.

I'm looking to collaborate on songwriting, play gigs, and record. It's an ambitious ensemble, I know. That's why it's taken me a decade to approach it.

I just posted the ad on Craiglist. Interested parties inquire within.

Now I vomit.

Competitive Emoting & Vocal Gymnastics

Once again, there I was a captive audience. This time on a Jetblue [I LOVE YOU JETBLUE FOR YOUR SENSE OF HUMOR] flight from Ft. Meyers to JFK after a weekend in Naples with lizards, breezes, a pool, the beach, cocktails, Peanut-effing-M&Ms, orchid blossoms, tennis, bike-riding, and the sun. (Does anybody remember the sun?)

I ended up rather accidentally catching the Top 12 Men of American Idol show their stuff on Tuesday night, which worked out fairly well considering that my next blog post was to be about the show. To balance things out, tonight I forced myself to watch the Top 12 Women on the American Idol website. And I must admit that I went into this locked 'n' loaded, ready to post about how they all sound the same and all of the music is either R&B or Pop-Country. So I was actually relieved and somewhat disarmed to hear distinctive timbres in different contestants' voices, distinctive looks and personalities:  Casey Abrams' general bearded 19-going-on-38-sex-creepiness (but he's a bassist! a real bassist! yes, please), Naima Adedapo's straight-up jazz depth, Jacob Lusk's throwback gospel R&B (comes off as more of a 70's Baptist preacher than a rock star).

I've not followed the show (so correct me if I'm wrong, fans) but it seems to me the Idol producers have made a concerted effort to diversify the selection of contestants, both in terms of genre-preference as well as ethnic and stylistic backgrounds. Generally speaking, the men were more interesting than the women. Diva (yawn), ingenue (gag), angel of inspiration (feh), temptress (eyeroll) —what is this, a line of Old Navy jeans? There are many emotions that a woman can experience and express in her life. Let's try some new ones, eh ladies of America? Here's a chart to help you explore: http://www.ami-tx.com/Portals/3/EmotionsFlyer.pdf

All of that said, there's an answer for me in James Durbin.

Tourette's & Asperger's syndromes he has but he's also got the juice. I never thought I'd say this but J-Lo's totally right: he sings from the place where singing is supposed to originate. When he sings, everything else goes away. He is not aware of the fact that he's performing, that people are watching him, that he's supposed to be entertaining. He just goes to a place deep inside and turns inside out.

Says the 3-year-old, "I want to go to there."

Because otherwise, it's just competitive emoting, showcasing, and vocal gymnastics. I'm sick of watching people try to out-diva each other whether on American Idol, The GRAMMYs, or trash TV. It's all "I'm going to go out on that stage as sexed up as possible, throw my voice around 'til I sweat, and work myself up into a scream at the end with either my loudest/highest note or a seemingly unending riff on all the notes I have inside my body." OK, fine. But that doesn't make you a musician, it makes you some kind of super-specialized athlete. And that makes me tired.

So what's the point?

Glee Thinks All Space Is Star Wars / From the Phantom Zone

Due to the vicious plague I contracted somehow (licked a pole on the C train?), I recently found myself on an unprecedented TV bender that included a couple of episodes each of Glee and American Idol, and ended with the (53rd Annual) GRAMMY (Award)s (show).

Which brings me to the subject of today's blog.

Glee, you make me want to punch teenagers. First of all, nobody goes to a competition called "sectionals." Did any of the writers on the show even bother to learn the basic vocabulary of the choir world? A choir competes in All-County, All-District, and perhaps they can go to "Regionals" or "State" competitions. In the context of music, a "sectional" is when the different sub-sections of a larger ensemble break off to rehearse their specific part. Like, the alto section has a sectional rehearsal. [It took me four seconds to find this on Wikipedia.] A correct usage would be the teacher walking into the room and saying "OK, guys. Remember that today we're breaking into sectionals, so grab your folders and get going." They also never encounter written music of any kind (??), have a multimillion dollar budget (I had $400 a year + whatever we made selling candy bars), and an invisible choreographer, costume designer, arranger, producer, several mix engineers, and a music licensing agent. Whatever, whatever, fine, I get it, it's an episodic musical on TV.

But still, I watch that show and the words of Cletus Spuckler and his friend say it best: "You know, one hillbilly has his way with one fat guy in Deliverance, and suddenly, people think that's all hillbillies do. I suppose you think all space is Star Wars!"

Exactly.

But the fact is, after 20 minutes of any of the above shows, I yearn for the rough 'n' shoddy sounds of the Country Bear Jamboree. And the real reason isn't the complete lack of basic research done by the show's writers, it's the over-production. It's not just Glee, it's...just about everything that makes it to the radio or TV and ends up in my iPod's gym mix.

I can suspend reality and roll with the shallow characters and over-the-top story lines. Sure, it's kind of fun. But listening to the canned vocals, the flat compression [THE WORST], the autotune, the pitch correction, the time correction, the sterilization of all emotional nuance (leftover are only power, cutsie-ness, and cheese, but that's my next blog entry) in the sound — that's what really sets me off.

It sounds like everyone on the show (and on the radio) is singing to us from The Phantom Zone.
 


WHY?? Is it just because we have a lot of sliders, buttons, and effects that we have to crank them up to 11? Are quality and authenticity of sound not something addressed in audio schools?

Step Four: I Can Give You More - Part 2

Further to Step-Four-I-Can-Give-You-More's catalog of songs, here's a look at progress since October. 

Milestones
~Recorded and released first song for free download.
~Had my first press interview.
~Played a prog rock horn gig in Bay Ridge.
~Subbed for pianist/choir director at PSUMC. Also sang ballsy a cappella duet with Leila.
~Worked chest voice up to F4, comfortably. Heading toward C5.
~Writing two new songs.
 
Next Steps

~Arrange and record "Boats & Snow" for piano, horn, vocals.

~Keep vocalizing with my real voice and get rid of all that awful training.
~Buy big ukulele chord chart poster for music studio wall.
~Book voice lesson for March?
~Book horn lesson for April?
~Continue block-buzzing on horn mouthpiece and work range up to C5. (F4) Practice duets and etudes from July lesson.

Play Dates
~Regular meet-up with brass quartet at PSUMC.
~Learn something, anything on uke.

The Free-lancer's Life: Eating is sleeping is working is pants

New business venture: rolling. Sense of time/place: questionable.


This panel excerpted from The Oatmeal's "Why working at home is both awesome and horrible."

Step Four: I Can Give You More

By the way, did anyone else see NKOTB on New Year's Eve and freak out? All six of the ladies at our castle were reliving their tween years of fake making out with posters.

Also it is the middle of winter now and I want to die until it's summer.

So instead of doing that I'm wearing bright colors, dying my hair red, buying insane lipstick, layering, like, six different kinds of awesome tights, going to the gym a hellalot and making lists of songs that I'm going to record despite myself.

I've trolled some of the archives and decided on these. Of course, this is absolutely going to change but it gives me something useful to do.

songs in line for recording:

ask seek knock (1999)
boats and snow (2010)
one two/january ballet song (2010)
microbiology (2010)
laundry (2009)
la plus belle (2008)
when it rains (2002)
ft. lauderdale first date song (2003)
you're a rescue (2010)
my momma says (2009)
i am a projector (2010)
god only knows (2004)
naked/good man (2004)
regret robot/defense chicken (2010)
red leaf falls on old virginia (1998)

second string songs i don't think i'll do anything with:

pale blue horizon (2002)
raindance (2000)
birds (2008)
red sky (2001)
pluto (2000)
no reason to doubt (2000)
sinking (1994)
another round (2002)
shu-sha (2000)
rita's song (2005)
dandelion (1998)
blessed is the man (2005)
lay you down (1998)
feel the breeze (1998)
red sky (2002)
oh see thats fine (2001)
she flies (2002)
uncle Sam (2004)
crepe myrtle (2000)

Gary Gnu and the Good Gnews

No, I have misled you. Gary Gnu is not really making a guest appearance on my blog. But oh, how I wish. (If you're out there, Gary, please come see us sometime!)

 There will be other guests appearing soon. For now, we cut to the good gnews.

If you take a peek at my last blog entry where I made my first song release available for download that's right I said DOWNLOAD and that means you can have it for free to rip/burn/mp3/post-to-Ukrainian-piracy-sites, you might notice that there are two comments. The first was quite the jaw-dropping surprise to me: a request for a press interview from Fredericksburg Patch.

Now, press interviews I know aallll about. Like, what time of day Steve Reich, John Adams, Elliott Carter like to have them. Which phone numbers to use depending on where they are currently residing. What clips, photos, and autobiographies to send in advance, which questions aforementioned gentlemen are dog-tired of answering, and which topics will light them up.

But this press request was for me -- wha? Tread lightly, publicist! Hmm, boundaries. I'd certainly never feel it appropriate to pitch myself to any of my music contacts, but in the case where an editor and writer come across my blog and approach me? Well, that seems ethical. Aaaaaaaaaand completely unexpected.

Gee, gorsh. The result was a 20-minute phoner, conducted via cell phone from our 1999 Subaru as it traversed the great great horizontal length of Pennsylvania. The story appeared online just 6 days after the post -- oh, that every song would get its own story!

Many thanks to the writer, Michelle Habel, for a generous interview and a sweet piece. http://fredericksburg.patch.com/articles/a-song-12-years-in-the-making.

(Note to self: learn to speak in intelligible sound bytes. I mean, yee-haw.)