Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

arcati crisis

voiced concerns

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Last night at about 9:10pm I lost my voice. I have yet to locate it this morning.

I’ve learned that discretion is the better part of valor when it comes to rehearsing while under the weather. It happens to everyone, and it can feel good to make some music when you feel run down, but better to have your voice for a performance than blow it showing off at rehearsal.

Except, we were rehearsing “Better.” It’s nowhere near the highest or most-difficult vocal I’ve written for myself, but it has an obscene degree of difficulty for me when fronting the whole band. Lots of words. Lots of quick melodic jumps. And then there are the Bs – I have to hit three of them dead on during each chorus to support our new three part harmony – 12 in total. Due to where that note falls in my range, I tend to both be flat and push too hard. (Contradictory, I know).

Anyhow, last night by 9:10pm I had maybe noticed some chinks in my voice when I had no falsetto to switch to in “Dumbest Thing I Could Do,” but on the whole I thought I had been relatively cautious. Then came the final “Better” of the night. Verse one went fine, but in the chorus the Bs were murder. Verse two was raspy and kindof hot sounding, but the second chorus pushed my voice to the brink. I was barely getting on top of the Bs, and it was a Herculean effort to sustain them and keep them nice and sharp.

Afterwards, in the bridge, my voice was barely there, even with my face pressed right up against the microphone, absorbing tiny electric shocks. By the time we reached the third one I was kindof just emceeing the song. “Cause we were so!” I would bark, and then Gina and Jake would chime in harmoniously, “high!” Then, I would call “and I?” and they would respond like an elite military corps, “tried!”

By the time we crossed the finish line, my voice had completely disappeared. These things have been known to correct themselves overnight, but I awoke this morning with not even the barest squeak in my throat – and it even hurt to do that.

No talking for me today, or really over the weekend as a whole. Hopefully I get some semblance of it back by Tuesday for our spotlight at Studio Luloo.

Even if I do, I think I might stay away from “Better.”

Make It Special

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Every time we have an Arcati Crisis show I want to make it special.

I can’t help myself. When you play in the same city to largely the same crowd over and over again you have to keep it interesting. Spice things up a little.

Well, tomorrow night at the Tin Angel (7:30p, $10, you should come) is going to be spicy enough – it’s our first show with both Zina on drums and Jake on bass. It’s also my birthday show. It’s also our nearly annual Fall Extravaganza.

I decided that wasn’t enough special for one show, so it’s also going to be a CD release party…

Thanks to brand new mixing software and a few quick car trips and a week off from work, Arcati Crisis is ready to release our fifth totally DIY album at tomorrow night’s show – and it sounds really, really, really good. I’m in a bit of disbelief that we played it or that I mixed it. It’s a 10-song, 18-track LP of one of our first shows with Zina on drums at Philly venue The Fire, and it’s only available as a fan appreciation reward from the band.

What that means exactly I’m not sure. I’m going to figure it out while I’m asleep.

Of course, even with a week off I’m going to be up until the wee hours of the morning before a show burning these suckers, but that’s the price I pay for instant gratification.

all points of the compass

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Yesterday I took one of those personality type assessments that you frequently take at work, and for once I thought it told me something useful.

The assessment suggested our personalities are divided between four predominant focuses – clearing obstacles in the present, having a vision of the future state, caring about people and their skills, and collecting and analyzing data.

Some people were clearly one thing. I was sitting next to a warrior, who only cared about crossing things off his list, and across from a nurturer, who only cared about the people around her.

Unsurprisingly, I do not have a singular focus.

However, I was the only person in a room of two dozen who was primarily focused on the next steps. I’m a planner. I want to know how present actions will be reflected in the future.

I wasn’t only that. Right behind it was my path-clearing tendency – I consider what we can do now to get to those next steps, as well as my analysis-OCD –  gathering information and data to get to those next steps.

You’ll notice a missing element: people. It turns out, in this particular rubric I’m supposedly not too concerned with others.

If there was any doubt in my mind about the validity of that assessment, you don’t have to look much farther than Arcati Crisis rehearsal. I’m always pushing to learn more songs so we can play longer sets, record video to add to our web content, add more harmony to make our songs more complex, or any number of other things that will transform us. I am fixated on the future state.

I want to get those things done, and I have my data to support why we’re doing them (in the form of song binders, spreadsheets, rehearsal videos, etc).

What I don’t do is ask, “Are you having fun?” It just doesn’t come into the equation for me. I’m having fun if the song sounded good. When the songs don’t sound good I’m not having fun. If that happened all the time I wouldn’t show up. I assume that about everyone else.  And – whether they share my dogmatic future-focus or not – it’s true.

This week, the songs sounded great. I think we were all pretty happy.

It’s not that I don’t care about others. It’s that I assume that being on a team indicates interest, and the best thing I can do to keep you interested is to always be moving towards the next step in our evolution – which means doing great work in the present.

For being a band-leader, I think my personality fits me to a tee.

Arcati Crisis @ All Fired Up

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Part of the fun of being in a small-time, mostly-acoustic, folk-tinged, dance-rock band is the unusual places we get to play.

I think Saturday’s gig at All Fired Up might be our new current title-holder. We were set up in the middle of a pottery shop, surrounded by shelves of plates, mugs, and the visages of Disney characters. On every side were arts and crafts tables filled with eager painters customizing their pieces.

All Fired Up is a paint-it-yourself pottery shop at 602 Haddon Ave in Collingswood, NJ 08108.

I can’t even think of a runner-up, really (Dorian’s Parlor doesn’t count, since we’d probably have been there anyway even if we weren’t playing).

This was our first outing with Jake on bass, as well as our first time using the new PA system for a show, and our first time playing our new cover, Erasure’s “Respect.”

Oh, and our first time playing a three hour gig in over a year.

Plenty for us to fuck up.

Except, Arcati Crisis has recently entered into a period of ineffable grace… or, at least, unfuck-upable zen. We played all three hours down to the minute, and we played them well.

See that table in the foreground? Imagine that replaced by a hurricane force amount of acoustic rock.

Out of the gate, our “Dumbest Thing I Could Do” finally felt like a real acoustic dance song with Jake’s creeping arpeggiated scale bass line. We reinvented “Real End” yet again, debuting its new upbeat pop take engineered by our drummer Zina. We debuted our Rock Band 3 style “Space Oddity” with each of us singing a different part of the story, and ended on a rather triumphant duo take on “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” Afterwards we gave an impromptu encore supporting Jake when he medleyed into Weezer’s “Say It Ain’t So” from The Wood Brothers’ “Luckiest Man.”

The part I liked the best was our audience. Actually, the lack thereof. Unlike a bar or coffee shop, people don’t come to All Fired Up to spectate – they come to create! At no point were we playing to an attentive audience, because everyone was spread around the shop, busy decorating their various works of pottery.

I actually prefer a busy, captive audience to any other kind. It’s easier to convert strangers who are doing something they enjoy than to pit your sound against jaded ears at an open mic or who are waiting for the next band.

While I love getting our full-scale rock on at a big venue in Philly, I’ll be disappointed if our songs ever grow to the point that we can’t bring them to these unusual spaces.

i love it, it’s perfect, now change

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As I gave Gina and Jake my third “we only have to change this one thing” note on a song last night, I wondered if they were starting to hate me.

I’m always the one giving the most notes in rehearsal, whether it be with AC or Filmstar, so wondering if people hate me isn’t unique just to rehearsing with AC.

Why do I do it? It’s not that I have the best ears – Gina and E are much better than I am. It’s also not that I’m the one not making mistakes – I make plenty, sometimes the most! And, I love getting notes – I’d be happy to get some.

So why am I the one Simon Cowelling at the end of every song?

Mostly, because someone has to do it. That’s not to say that every song requires a critique, but they at least all require a moment of consideration before moving on or else rehearsal turns into going through the motions. If you hear things to tweak while rehearsing and don’t tweak them then you might hear the same thing against next time.

Tweaks aren’t always bad things. Jake plays a lot of high, melodic bass lines in counterpoint to my rhythm guitar work and my backing vocals. Last night I realized this was my “problem” on “Real End” – our parts totally matched, but after years of playing with Gina I wasn’t used to the new harmony they created. The fix is simply us both playing our parts with confidence so they’re distinct from each other.

However, I think the real reason for my litany of notes is that my musical super power doesn’t lie in melody or blend, but in being a fan. I make music that I love to hear. Just like you would know if someone singing your favorite song at karaoke sang the wrong melody, I notice when a song doesn’t sound like itself.

I might not be able to articulate what’s wrong (though I certainly do so better than Randy “Pitchy” Jackson), but that’s why I have bandmates to help me! I simply know when something’s up.

I’m pretty sure that Gina and Jake didn’t leave my house hating me last night, just like I know we managed to make improvements on almost every songs in our repertoire.

How many of those improvements came from my notes? Possibly none, but would we have improved without the notes?

I don’t know.