Friday, June 24, 2011

the latest and greatest

As someone who works with music technology for a living, I’m continually running into the issue of obsolescence as it relates to my own equipment.  Invariably, as soon as I have my studio up to “standard,” something else comes out onto the market that changes the game.  If it’s a new operating system, immediately my version of Pro Tools is incompatible.  Once the new version of Pro Tools comes out, then all of my Waves plug-ins have to be upgraded.  And so on and so on and so on...ad infinitum.  This phenomenon becomes an endless, frustrating dance over time, not to mention financially draining.

I had an interesting conversation relating to this topic earlier this morning with my mother, a self-admitted luddite who still refuses to carry a cell phone or get an email address.  Normally, we tend to have differences of opinion when it comes to technology, but I found that ultimately we share the same personal philosophy: it’s not about the tools you have, but about how you work with those said tools.  My mom’s illustration of the ubiquity of smart phones is a good example.  Just because one can send text messages or facebook updates like a fiend at all hours of the day and night does not ensure fruitful communication or lasting relationships.  So true.

As a musician who works with technology, there are interesting parallels, accessibility for one.  I can go into the studio, day or night, and record almost anything (well, with the exception of screaming guitar leads…let’s be honest!).  I don’t need to wait for a performer to read the notes on paper to hear what I’ve composed; that was always the great frustration of traditional “classical” composing, in my mind at least.  I’d work for months on a single piece, then everything would be over after the premiere…and I’d end up in an anti-climactic sort of depression every time.  (What was the point of all of that work for five damn minutes of hearing one’s own music?)  However, at the same time, accessibility can be a mixed blessing.  In terms of quality, I would say my “output” is proportionately slanted toward crap about 90% of the time.  Another parallel comes back to my initial paragraph, in terms of this idea of manufactured obsolescence.  Companies want to make money, and so they have to keep consumers locked into buying their products.  Thank goodness for all of the advances that have been made in Pro Tools software since version 5 (when I first started working with this).  But really, now with Pro Tools 9, do I really absolutely need to spend the hundreds of dollars in upgrade fees just so that I can have up to 256 internal busses?  Really?

As an instructor, I used to encounter some students who had sunk in serious cash into their studio setups…and then couldn’t make head or tail of a major triad.  These aspiring “producers,” “arrangers,” and “engineers” really didn’t have the musical background to make MUSIC per se.  But they had all of the tools at their disposal, and continually kept those tools “current.”  Over the years, I’ve been very careful about how much money to invest in studio gear, and also very selective about what equipment ultimately to purchase.  I’ve invested in both software and hardware products.  On the hardware side, I’m an analog synth enthusiast…partially because I will never have to upgrade an operating system on that particular instrument.  So I don’t have the latest and greatest “whatever” is on the market.  Who cares, if the end product is of quality?

Recently, with working on my music theatre piece, I became incredibly obsessed with the production quality of the backing tracks that may end up being used for the workshop next week.  I seriously did not see the light of day for several weeks, spending hours upon hours in the studio mixing, remixing, rearranging, adding another layer of string pads here and there, and generally obsessing.  I printed up the charts a few days ago, and the final copies came back from the printer’s yesterday.  And you know what I did?  I sat down at the piano and just played through everything.  Talk about liberating!  It’s so easy to get caught up in production that you can forget about the music…I’m happy to say that – at least in my humble opinion – the songs stand on their own.  Whether with a simple piano or guitar accompaniment, or a full progressive metal band, the songs can translate.

Lesson learned.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

jumping off the cliff


Finishing a long-term project is a bag of mixed emotions.  I’ve been walking around for the past eight years with tunes in my head, ideas for arrangements, brainstorming…all related to the same project, a musical titled “Serena in X-tremis.” 

The past eight years have gone something like this, in fits and starts:

Standing in the shower, an idea hits me.  Usually a melody.

Go to the piano.  Improvise for a few minutes.

Pencil in hand, pencil on paper.  Chart it.

Go into the studio.  Record temp tracks. 

Send said temp tracks to my collaborator (Ted Shank) for his feedback, lyrical revisions, and the like.

Revise. Re-record. Re-arrange.  Re-mix.  Over and over and over.

After eight years, I’ve accumulated over 80GB of sound files related to the same project, along with countless reams of staff paper. 

And then suddenly, I’m done.  Right before the deadline, a week-long workshop at the Hungarian Theatre of Cluj in Romania.  But really, now that the composing part of the project is finished, is it over?  Not exactly. 

That’s the beauty of music and of theatre.  Writing (in my case, composing) is just the beginning.  A project continually evolves, and slowly takes on a life of its own.  Unlike in other art forms, where the creator has control over the creative output from start to finish, music and theatre are dependent on other participants to make the creation come to life.  This is where the fun begins.  What will happen next?  Who will be cast?  What will his or her interpretation be of a particular character’s tone?  Did I do my job right, by successfully communicating what I wanted to convey?

It’s a scary cliff to jump off.

Let the adventure begin.  More to follow from Romania!

Sunday, May 22, 2011

oops...my bad...

Were you really waiting around for the skies to open on May 21, and judgment to rain down from the heavens?  Hmmm.

It's astounding how much press a ridiculous prediction, made by Harold Camping of Family Radio, was able to get.  Well, I guess anytime someone has millions of dollars - and supposedly nothing to lose - that person can rent thousands of billboards worldwide to literally "scare the hell" out of people.  Productive?  That remains for debate.  Offensive to other Christians worldwide (including myself)?  Many said yes.  Inspiring to an artist?  Definitely.

My latest song, complete with lo-fi video slideshow, is below.  "Oops...my bad!"  Thanks, Family Radio.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

delusions of grandeur

Last night, I wrapped up ten years of teaching in the California community college system. The thing I have loved the most over my tenure as a community college teacher is the engagement with my students. At times, I think I learn more from them than they do from me.

Case in point – my students threw me a little “going away” shindig last night, involving a meet-up at a local gelato place and then a show at a local bar. The gelato was fabulous, the company was great, but the local bands featured at the show left a bit to be desired. This didn’t bother me in the least, having played in my fair share of dive bars over the years with support from various bands of dubious musical ability, and so I “tuned out” the noise and focused instead on conversation. However, not all of my students in tow had the same reaction. This morning, I received an email from one of these students asking, “Why do these guys spend all this time rehearsing material only to sound so crappy live?...it really galls me that music is being presented so poorly.” Wow. Now there was some food for thought.

The question posed here – to me – is one hell of a big can of worms. To sum up, why are there so many musicians out there that just don’t realize…that they’re terrible? This is my take, based on ten years of teaching, and many, many years of experience as a professional musician...

In life, and in general, many people make themselves out to be more important and more talented than they really are. It's kind of hard to stomach the fact that there are six (plus) billion people in the world, and that frankly, in terms of one person/one life, we don't really matter all THAT much in the grand scheme of things. We, however, innately want to feel important; we want to have something "special" to contribute to the world to make our mark. There’s nothing wrong with this – it’s only a natural human desire. But there are people who take this to an extreme and consequently become completely delusional about how important they are, or how talented they may be.

It's not exactly the easiest thing in the world to realize: “Well, hell, I might not be THAT good at whatever it is that I'm doing...” It becomes much easier, then, to blame someone else for something that goes awry in order to avoid this very self-realization. In the case of musicians, this blame tends to get placed on things like a crappy PA system (which may or may not actually be crappy), a sound guy not mixing things right, someone in the audience causing a distraction, having a bad cold so the performer can’t sing up to par, and so on. The classic example of this phenomenon is one I’ve experienced in teaching voice students. I always require my vocal students to bring some kind of recording device to a class, coaching or a lesson. The frequent reaction students have, upon hearing their voices for the first time, is: “That can’t be me. I really put my heart into that! Must be a bad microphone.” To which I invariably respond, “That IS you. That is what YOU sound like. Has nothing to do with the microphone.” Harsh, yes, but this is reality. Simply having a passion for singing does not make one automatically a talented vocalist, let alone be able to match pitch.

I have been teaching lessons (piano, voice, along with composition) since I was about 15 years old. It's amazing what you see as an instructor. People really, really think a lot of times that they have this innate talent, simply because they love music, especially when it comes to singing (how else can one explain those horrific American Idol audition episodes?). Years ago, I had a student who was completely tone deaf enroll in one of my choirs. It was an advanced chamber choir and I had to let the poor guy go, because he was SO off with his singing – both pitch-wise and in terms of rhythm – that he threw the rest of the men's section off. It was completely distracting, and there's absolutely no sugar-coating how bad it was. I felt terrible for the student, and tried to break the news to him in a gentle way. I called him into my office privately and said something like "I think you need to take some basic ear training before you'll be totally prepared for this class…I’d love to have you re-enroll in the future once you have the basic skills down.” Although I was gentle, I was direct – what was I supposed to do? And unfortunately, the news wasn’t received well. I was told that I was “prejudiced” and that the only reason he had pitch problems was because of the “pus in his sinuses.” Really?

I have so many stories like this. It all comes down to: it's just hard to admit when one has a shortcoming. Eating a slice of humble-pie is one of the hardest things I think to do.

And so that explains a lot of terrible bands that continue to go out there and attempt to gig – there are indeed people who really THINK they are contributing something to the world while they are completely delusional about their abilities, or lack thereof. And when their "talent" is challenged by someone who is trained or educated, they tend to blame some sort of external entity.

So what does one do in a case like this? I think the most we can do is approach life - and other aspiring musicians - in a humble, non-judgmental manner...best thing to do in this case is to have compassion for people like that, because the "wake-up call" is going to hurt bad enough on its own. Believe me, as a teacher, this has been one of my toughest challenges. I've had some people in classes that are dead-set on becoming musicians...that have absolutely NO innate ability whatsoever and that continue to not be able to keep up with the class despite paying attention and taking notes and meeting with tutors, etc. It’s heart breaking to see this kind of thing. What do you say to a person like that, as an instructor? It's hard. People have to learn their own lessons...the hard way...because most of the time, they're not going to believe you...

And in the meantime, pick which shows you attend wisely!

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

sromusik podcast episode 1

Just uploaded my first podcast episode!  This episode features music from and information about my current projects, including the music theatre work "Serena in X-tremis."  Listen, enjoy...and consider subscribing.  I'll be featuring information on music, experimental noise and theatre, and music production tools in future episodes.