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Sunday, May 8, 2011

The solo—improvise or compose?


In the next session we’ll be recording a rumba blues version of Hound Dog that I’ve played for years. Whenever that swampy groove starts up, people smile. It’s a good-time break from all the heavy subject matter I tend to write!

Whenever I play it, I usually solo on slide for a few verses and just go nuts. These solos can descend into hilarious sloppiness or rise to profound levels of slide Nirvana—and it’s always a blast.

I am aware, however, that playing this live is one thing and having a permanent recording of fun-but-sloppy crap is another! I decided that instead of doing take after take and wearing the band out, I’d look for another way.

Some famous solos have been written in advance and are an integral part of the entire composition. Examples are, “When My Guitar Gently Weeps,” by the Beatles, solo by Eric Clapton; the finale of “Hotel California” by the Eagles, solo by Don Felder and Joe Walsh; “Something,” by the Beatles, solo by George Harrison; “Stairway to Heaven” by Led Zeppelin, solo by Jimmy Page. I will often do this if the song calls for it, but Hound Dog is different. It needs to be free—but with form.

As an experiment, I created a verse-long drums and bass loop and soloed over it for about an hour. As I played, a dynamic structure emerged that carried the solo cohesively from beginning to end. My playing became more inventive and some really interesting ideas started to pop up.

I intend to do this every day, and when the session arrives, I sense that the solo will have organically found shape in the midst of freedom.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Deeper listening


After a general listening of “Hard Task,” there was no obvious “best take,” because the performances were so consistent. So the next step was to listen with greater focus and attention to detail.

I started by printing out some customized blank charts. At the top of each column, I scribbled “INST’ for instrumental section, “CH” for chorus, “V” for verse, etc. The rows were used for assessing each line. In this song, each section had 4 lines, 2 bars each.

As I listened to a take, I would fill in the boxes with either small checks (“okay”) big checks (“great”), question marks (doubtful, requiring more scrutiny), or X’s (errors). I went through all six takes this way.

My initial instincts were correct, and the last three takes were still the best under closer assessment. I focused again on the last three and listened even more carefully. Some “question marks” were actually fine—perhaps different than what I expected, and some errors were either not bad, or unexpected improvements. There was one phrase where I did an upsweep with my index finger and struck the “wrong” string. At the time I mentally registered it as a mistake (slightly annoyed!) but in playback it adds a unique brightness that I think is interesting.

The next task was marking the times for each section on the chart, which allowed me to compare certain crucial lines by bouncing back and forth between the three takes. This way I could appreciate subtle differences in delivery.

I narrowed my selection to the last two takes and sent mp4s to Jesse and Adam. They are likely to hear elements of the bass, drums, and overall rhythm that I may not.

Jane and I listened to the two tracks on another system and shared our perspectives. Enough for one day!

Friday, May 6, 2011

Levels of listening


I’ve started listening to the rough mixes of “Hard Task.” There are 7 of them, and we were fairly sure that one of the last three was the “keeper.” I didn’t want to assume, however, and began listening to them all.

The first listen was non-critical, an opportunity to “feel” it. I wanted to let myself get a sense of the song and how it was coming across. In that pass, I was delighted at how consistent they all were. I could hear a bit of the shakiness I mentioned in the post, “Recording - Day 2,” but it wasn’t as problematic as I had imagined at the time.

As I kept listening through them all, it was true that in the last three I could sense a deep togetherness in myself and the band. I could feel it as much as hear it.

Jane and I are off to see Paul Simon ay Massey Hall in Toronto, a wonderful 107-year-old venue that seats only 3,500. And we’re on the floor only a few rows back! Tomorrow I’ll continue with the mixes and settle on the ones that feel the best. Then on to the next level of listening!

Space


Someone asked me why I didn’t do the entire recording in one multi-day group, instead of three two-day sessions, each spaced a month apart.

The answer: I could not have maintained my focus and the quality of the performance. I would have lost my objectivity.

Today, 12 days after the last session, I have listened to some of the rough mixes for the first time. Only now can I hear them with a reasonably objective ear. Only now can I hear them like a new listener might. 

It has been a touching experience listening to these mixes in a completely different state of mind. While recording the last takes the adrenaline and exhaustion in my system made me hypersensitive—and hypercritical. Listening today with a relaxed system and a balanced objectivity born of space, the issues that felt large sounded very minor, very human, and actually very interesting.

I’m glad I gave myself the luxury of space.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Am I good enough?


Besides being a musician, I am also a professional deep-feeling therapist. Individuals who facilitate this kind of exploration must go through their own feeling process. If you want to guide people through a forest, you need have been through it yourself.

In spite of this experience, I find that there are still some emotional issues that take time to completely erode, and one of them is feeling good enough. Children with parents who accept them as they are without judgment and encourage them to grow and explore at their own pace grow up to be people who feel good enough as they are. This is the essence of true confidence. It’s not a question of achieving a certain skill level, but the sense that whatever skill level you’re at is where you’re at—and that’s okay—in fact it’s ridiculously obvious and true. It is what it is.

Most of us didn’t have the good fortune to be brought up in an atmosphere of such acceptance. We were told what we should do, feel, and think, and made to feel bad if we didn’t match up to someone else’s judgmental yardstick. Such attitudes suck the natural confidence out of children, and mould us into adults who doubt ourselves—and look to others for approval.

Am I good enough?

It has been a challenge to crawl out from under these judgments and follow my natural drive to play music. And every step forward is chance to exist in genuine freedom and confidence. The latest and most daunting challenge for me has been my challenge to record live.

Am I good enough?

One day I’d listen to myself and feel “on.” Another day, I’d feel “off.” I would engage my feelings and let them come and go. As the first sessions approached, the tension of judgment lessened and I began to get excited about playing music with my friends. It was simple, really.

We played and it felt natural and good. I listened back and rather than paying attention to tiny details, I was feeling and listening to the whole wave of the band. It worked. It was real. We enjoyed it. I enjoyed it.

I am good enough. I always have been.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

The Blues: oppression and expression


Progressive politics and culture in Canada is going into a four-year-long dark night. The modern conservative movement is about authoritarian leadership and non-questioning obedience. Our challenge is to stick to our principles, stand up, express ourselves, and take action.

I draw a great deal of inspiration from the blues and the freedom songs of gospel music. These expressions poured out of the horrific conditions of the African-American people—conditions unimaginably worse than what Canadian culture will soon be exposed to.

They did not give up, and nor will we. It’s time to be vigilant, expressive, and active. Here are the lyrics from a blues that we recorded April 23, 2011.

Ain’t Gonna 
© January 2005 Sam Turton

Ain’t gonna
Ain’t gonna

Ain’t gonna hide anymore
Ain’t gonna hide anymore
I’m gonna stand up tall
I’m gonna say it all
Ain’t gonna hide anymore

Ain’t gonna
Ain’t gonna

Ain’t gonna pretend anymore
Ain’t gonna pretend anymore
I’m gonna lose this mask
I’m gonna jump off the track
Ain’t gonna pretend anymore

Ain’t gonna
Ain’t gonna

Ain’t gonna deny anymore
Ain’t gonna deny anymore
Let it all hang out
I’m gonna scream and shout
Ain’t gonna deny anymore

Ain’t gonna
Ain’t gonna

Ain’t gonna take it anymore
Ain’t gonna take it anymore
Ain’t gonna be your pawn
Ain’t gonna work this job
Ain’t gonna take it anymore

Ain’t gonna take it
Ain’t gonna take it
Ain’t gonna take it

Ain’t gonna




Monday, May 2, 2011

VOTE! Our music depends on it.


Modern conservatives worldwide believe that things are better run by private business, and that the arts should take care of themselves without support from our Canadian community at large. For that reason, conservative governments always move to drain funds from the arts.

Mr. Harper, a modern conservative, will do the same. Please vote wisely.