Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand
This week has been one of the more technically challenging ones I’ve ever spent as a songwriter, but right now that doesn’t bother me because look what I’m holding in my hands…
Yes, that’s right, my first physical mass-produced CD release since 2001, and it’s totally DIY by Elise and I:
More news tomorrow, as I make my solo debut (and sudden guerrilla CD release party) at the Tin Angel – 10:30 pm, $8.
More news on buying/downloading the CD on Monday.
Here’s a brand new HD video of “Icy Cold” with beautiful hi-fi multi-track soundboard audio. It comes with a story.
Okay, story-time.
Ten years ago (less 24 days) I was a freshman in college, and I wrote a song called “Icy Cold.”
It was an odd one – very oblique lyrics in one of my more unusual alternate tunings (at the time) made it a challenge to sing and play. I left it off my 2000 demo CD Other Plans and, curiously, also did not consider it for my 2001 studio disc Relief. It remained bound to my apartment, where it factored in to a few of my favorite Trio recordings.
Around the same time I wrote “Icy Cold” – 86th in a rapidly-expanding list of songs – I decided that it was time for me to start playing shows.
Being rather ignorant as to what that entailed, I assumed that I would just phone up a local, mostly-acoustic venue where people I liked frequently played and explain that I wrote tons of awesome songs, and then they would invite me to play. (Later, after my initial flush of success, I could upgrade to playing the TLA or the Electric Factory).
The Tin Angel being the only local mostly-acoustic venue that I knew of at the time, I sussed out their booking information and rang them up.
That was the extent of my year-2000 booking experience at the Tin Angel. No follow-up. No booking. No flush of success.
To be fair, I would have been an utter disaster. I know some people so wonderful that their first ever show was at the Tin, but I was not that kind of wonderful in 2000. Sure, I had the awesome songs, but I could just barely sing, and I was playing a guitar that didn’t even especially stay in tune!
Over the course of the past ten years I’ve done a lot to rectify my singing and guitar-playing issues, and I’ve played in a lot of amazing Philly venues – including the Tin Angel, as part of a showcase with Arcati Crisis. Yet, I’ve never fulfilled that original goal of ten years ago – being featured solo on the bill at the Tin.
Well, that’s going to happen on Friday at 10:30 p.m., so when it came to choosing the first song to post in 2010 in this glorious new HD audio/video combo format it seemed natural to choose “Icy Cold” – especially given the slights it experienced in 2000 and 2001.
Plus, it’s really freaking cold out.
That’s my story.
PS: I owe the hugest possible shout-out to Tim Jahn for explaining Adobe Premiere Pro compression codecs to me via Twitter at the eleventh hour (literally) to make this beautiful video possible. Tim writes a blog of occasional, thought-provoking bulletins that I have been enjoying for months. You can also follow him on Twitter.
I don’t want to steal the thunder of the impending essay you’re due for this song in 10 days when I celebrate its tenth birthday. (Hello, this song has it’s own freaking CATEGORY on my blog.)
Suffice it to say that after you’ve been playing something for long enough you stop feeling the feeling that you originally felt and start just feeling the song, because the song embodies the original feeling, and that is beautiful state of affairs to be in as a performing songwriter.
I have been playing “Under My Skin” with Gina since shortly after its writing in January of 2000. Even with a backbone of a mere three chords it keeps getting better, even after we retire it for months or years at a time.
This is as fine a version as any, save for one flat chord and a pair of swapped words. Otherwise, divine.
(The pitter-pattering part of the outro refrain that crests around “just a kiss, and I don’t think that I miss you anymore” has always meant to invoke the Jackson 5 – even pre-dating my more recent obsession with the Jackson 5. I sometimes segue from that part straight into “Never Can Say Goodbye,” but could just as easily get to “I Want You Back” or “ABC.”)
Gina and I haven’t done a proper duo recording of “Under My Skin,” but she did overdub her newer bits of the arrangement onto a recording I love from NaBloPoMo 2006. You can download that here.
The best way to keep up with Arcati Crisis happenings is to become our fan on FaceBook, because I don’t always blog every little thing.
I know, it’s hard to believe.
Tomorrow we will play you our new cover, which will lead either to head-explosions or mocking, but probably not both.
This is post 5 of 30 featuring live, single-take demos of each of the 30 songs I’m considering for my upcoming studio album. Each potential album tune is accompanied by a B-Side, to make each post a virtual 45 single (remember those?).
These are certainly not two songs I expected to wind up with this early in the month. Hopefully the weekend will bring more surprises (along with some time to rehearse).
Song #236: Saving Grace (live demo)
Never previously recordedThere are a lot of interesting things in the subways in Paris – mariachi bands, marionettes, and women genuflecting with silent poise. I wrote the chorus on Champs Elysees, sang it on every Metro line we took, and then wrote the first verse and the bridge on the back of my Eurostar ticket en route to London. When we got back home I walked directly to piano and played it without so much as a chord chart. Afterward I simply had to make all of the internal rhymes match, learn it on guitar, forget it on guitar, and reconstitute it in CADGCC just to make things difficult for myself.
Song #58: Novel (live demo)
Last recorded for Trio in October of 2000Directly between writing the two 1999 songs that have stayed with me for the past decade – Bridge and Other Plans – I wrote this one. I discovered that once you leave yourself open to writing songs sometimes your feelings come out through them, and suddenly you have a song about something you weren’t planning on ever telling anyone about. Aside from its single Trio appearance I think the only person I’ve ever played it for is Lindsay.
If you dig one (or both) of these songs, please leave a comment – your feedback will have a big effect on the songs I ultimately choose for the album.
I’ve been the rotating host of the LP Wednesday night open mic since October, and it’s just recently reached self-sustaining status where we don’t have to plead and beg to get people to attend.
A regular weekly crowd means a slew of musicians who I’m getting know a little better, week by week. One is Trent AKA Stupa Thought. You wouldn’t peg him as someone I’d dig. He plays flat out modern rock with a tinge of hip hop rhythms – stuff that would be easily radio-ready with a fierce band behind him.
I like Trent because he takes music seriously. He’s quick to make light of a blown chord or when I forget to give him an extra round of applause, but when it comes to playing he’s as professional as anyone at the open mic. His arrangements are tight. His vocals are solid. His songs have distinct structure, and he wields a pedal board with looping to add texture.
I try to find a moment to get to know everyone in the room (be on the lookout for my open mic how-to post, coming soon), and I always wind up deep in conversation with Trent. Last week he said an interesting thing to me: “I don’t think any of your songs ever get angry enough. You go right up to the brink, but you always pull back.”
It’s a perceptive comment. I used to be the master of the kiss-off song, but I’ve long since abandoned it as my primary genre. You could argue that I’m mellower now that I’m married. I think it’s more that I comment on myself more now – even in songs about other people – a trend that started with “So Hard.” I think it’s important to root your song’s accusation in something common, and when you are writing something scathing that’s partially about yourself it’s hard not to add a slightly redemptive angle … even if it’s just a vocal that resolves major.
Trent challenged me to come back this week with as nasty a set as I could summon. After some consulting with Elise, I came up with: Splinter (legendarily nasty break-up tune), Bridge (unapologetically fierce alt-tuning rocker from high school), Real You (utter dissection of a false friend), and my “single” Shake It Off – a takedown of passive aggressiveness that was already deemed not mean enough due to the hopeful bent of the chorus.
The set felt awesome. I’m sure my hour of vocal warmups helped, but it was more that I’m not used to seething for four songs anymore. Now that I’m not in that awful place 24/7 I can appreciate a little focused rage. It makes me happy that I wrote the songs – now they’re like pressure valves I can use to blast out a little antipathy at a moment’s notice.
Trent’s assessment? That I certainly picked my nastiest guitar work, but he still feels like I let my vocals redeem the subjects of my wrath.
Can you think of a popular song that’s mean not necessarily because of it’s music, or even its lyrics, but because of a fierce vocal performance that doesn’t scream, growl, or otherwise contort itself? “You’re So Vain” comes to mind.
Comment if you can think of one.