teaching myself

Posted by on March 30, 2010 No comments

When there’s a clean slate in the studio the first thing I do is pick up the nearest instrument and make some sound. I’m never really sure where it will go, but it starts with a sound. Sometimes, like last night, a curious thought will occur and I’ll follow it for a while. See where the thread leads, if anywhere. My computer soaks it all in and I can sort it out later. I’ve probably learned more from myself by listening to these recordings than I could have from any number of teachers. When I’m alone, I behave in a unique way. I do what comes naturally and it points out my strengths and weaknesses. Most importantly, it’s what I do when I’m alone in the studio that is presented as my work. So this practice of recording brings me quite a bit of good information. From this exercise I have learned:

  • I love the six string guitar.
  • I prefer to play fingerstyle at all times (electric guitars included).
  • If there is no instrument at hand I will torture any recordings I have with piles of processing and ruthless edits.
  • The sound of open strings thrills me.
  • An out of tune instrument can be interesting but is annoying more often than not.
  • Patterns are fun in moderation.
  • Mistakes become beautiful with a change of context.
  • Practicing a part and getting it right kicks ass over editing every day of the week.
  • Improvisation is at the center of life.

I’m sure other people do this. I know they do. I’m not as certain that everyone analyzes things the way I do. Maybe some are pickier about it. Maybe folks don’t listen repeatedly after the fact. What I do know is that this is really useful:

  1. Capture it.
  2. Wait 6 or more hours.
  3. Listen to it.
  4. Think about it.
  5. Listen again.
  6. Repeat.

The procedural aspects of the process build habits. The repetition brings results. It’s a practice.

a place to resist

Posted by on March 29, 2010 No comments

Reading has been a fundamental part of my life for as long as I can remember. It’s something that has always been stressed as a noble and necessary activity for enlightenment and pleasure. My family of origin is loaded with readers and as such book are a good common ground. One of the side effects of this familial bond is an interest in how the sausage is made. I like reading books about writers but more than that the good interviews that one so seldom sees. That urge coupled with a weekly trip to the periodicals section of the only bookstore to which I have access put “The Paris Review” in my hands this past weekend. It’s been a brilliant read and brought to the front of my mind something that has been bubbling for a while now.

I’ve mentioned a million times how tough it is to be creative in this era. There are no more rules. There are moments of fashion that come and go with the twitter stream and because they are so ephemeral, it’s hard to imagine being out of sync with the world for two weeks is going to be the end of a career. In the absence of rules and standards and schools there is no room for rebellion because everything and nothing is a reaction to the atmosphere. That’s a hassle.

my notebook right now

In several places I have heard about a recent trend in literature toward eschewing the “confessional narrative.” My first brush with this change in the wind was on a poetry podcast. But then I saw it on a book blog. And now in “The Paris Review.” It must be true! Writers and critics are pushing against something! It makes me jealous.

The brief analysis I’ve done (which consists of reading a blog or two in my RSS feeds and hearing a podcast) leads me to believe that it will be short lived but not without some noise. Sounds more to my untrained ear like kicking the “I” of the world that resonates in blogs and bad poetry. It doesn’t matter. It is a reaction. Something has been found for authors to push against. Maybe it sounds silly to make such a big deal about it but I’ve been pushing this brick wall with my forehead for years now with no motion at all. Musically anyone can do anything. The “innovations” are mostly tricks of technology whose novelty, if there is any, is assimilated so quickly that we forget its origin as quickly as the taste of an onion in a pot of chili. You know, like that one YouTube video of that woman who has the loop pedal and plays all of the instruments? Wait. You mean the looping thing has already come and gone? Huh.

(NB: The music produced by KT Tunstall is wonderful. I don’t mean this disparagingly in the least.)

It may sound as though I want something to exist simply for me to tear down and that’s so true. How many pages of history are devoted to those who did something new by flying in the face of the known? Perhaps I could start a movement with the expressed intent of destroying it. But that would probably be labeled as a repeat of Dada-ism. Or worse, would be called “Dada Two-Point-Oh.”

Picking up this scent has put me into a mind of finding a similar something in music. With music criticism dead and relegated to the 1 to 5 star ratings on iTunes it won’t be easy. Sorting fashion from criticism with a longer view takes work and most of what I see bubbling here and there falls more into line with quick reactions to particular pieces or albums. But I have hope that there’s something out there.

patience

Posted by on March 26, 2010 No comments

I’m doing a lot of reading these days. I should say that I’m a pretty big reader but adding the nook to my life has pushing things over the edge. Where I was barely clearing a book every three weeks or so I’m now knocking out one a week while juggling three at a time. Got a toddler? Get a nook. Or any eReader. Seriously. It’s worth it. Anyway, the books that I’m reading are centered around creative people and the process of the world and the work. It’s been very inspiring and has put me in a good frame of mind for considering my next project. I can’t really be sure what it is I have up my sleeve but based on some of the comments I received about my last release, it’s safe to say that it’s going to have a more chilled out, amorphous feeling to it. I’m feeling the urge to get back to my computer music roots. Stay with me.

things in my bag

One of the greatest compliments I got with my so-called tape music was that it sounded very organic. It wasn’t minimalist and repetitive. There was a direction and a form even though the form wasn’t something that was self-referential. A couple of my fellow composers analyzed the structure of my work and compared it to a one way street. Everything flowed in a known direction but there was no looping back. It was always forward.

This makes sense as that’s how I compose. I start at the beginning and work my way to the end. That’s not to say that things aren’t revised to meet where it turns out I’m going, but for the most part it’s a very linear process. This has its ups and downs, but in the end the work has, if I am successful, a flow that seems inevitable. Not predictable, but inevitable.

I have been digging through my old recordings for sources and have come across some things that are exciting. I plan to start beating them up so I can have a goodly pile of stuff to work with. If I had to decide right now I would say that I’m looking at a piece in three movements. That’s pretty decisive for someone like me.

With any luck I’ll keep up with the blogging for as long as the muse allows. Expect some tunes and fragments next week. There are some sketches brewing in the back of my mind. In the mean time, I have a set of guitar sides that need some attention. I’d like to be able to carve some tone bars this weekend and maybe glue some kerfing. Bold goals indeed!

pause

Posted by on March 25, 2010 No comments

I took a timeout last night. This week seems to be full of slowing down and catching my breath. My next project isn’t particularly clear and as a result, I’m meandering a little bit. Or a lot. Masquerading as Kratos and tearing the wings off of some harpies has done me some good in terms of focus. I guess I needed some recreation and a little time unplugged from the things that I think about all of the time. It’s like solving a problem that you’ve been staring at all day on the drive home from work. Disengaging from the item at hand sometimes leads to inspiration and insight.

I second guess the idea of a break often. Is this just resistance creeping in? Or is this some bit of wisdom that I have acquired that lets me know when it’s time to back off for a minute.

things on my desk right now

It’s far more comforting to think that I know something without it being a conscious decision. I fall back on that because I have a physical reaction that’s similar. If I have been working too hard or too stressed out for a prolonged period, my body will take a Saturday or Sunday off. That is to say, I’ll be sidelined by a headache or some other sickness that can only be cured by sleep. Everything shuts down for repairs. Now this is nowhere near working until I collapse or anything extreme like that. I’m not my Granddad. I don’t work in a coal mine and on the railroad on the same day. Give me a break! No, this is the kind of soft shutdown that happens well before something awful could come into play. I’d like to think I’m smart because I listen to it. I rest. I recover. And then everything is OK.

Does that work for everyone? Probably not. We’re crazy in this culture. We prize obsession. And I mean that in the “unwanted thought” way. We admire workaholics and those who simply can’t stop doing what they do. We don’t recognize the sickness of being unable to step back or sit still. That’s sad. And it’s not my way. I’m quite happy with being able to put things on hold for a bit. It provides space and perspective. It also saves good work from overwork.

Looking around at all of the pressure to produce and the 24/7/36(5|6) world we have developed makes me wonder how much better what is being produced would be if we forced ourselves to step away for a period of time. Maybe that’s the best part of having a day job: the forced separation from the work. Maybe that’s seeing the glass as half full. It doesn’t matter as long as I see the limitation as a benefit.

So I’m taking a bit of a timeout. That means plenty of time for instrument building and a little housekeeping.

writing

Posted by on March 24, 2010 No comments

So I was wrong yesterday. I didn’t recording anything. I left the computer alone and did some writing. With a pen a paper, that is. When I was a student I often wrote things out before I picked up an instrument. In fact, I had a very strict rule when composing for the guitar that I would never have the instrument in my hand when writing for it because I didn’t want my fingers pushing me around. There are some shapes that are too comfortable and some great sounds to be had when (my) technique is pushed. When I moved back to the steel string guitar, I left some of that discipline behind because my approach is more improvisational with that instrument. It’s funny that I’d never thought about it that way until last night.

Life needs balance and as such I decided to try it the old way. I’m rusty, but it felt pretty good to force myself into it. The old muscles are there, if a little weak from lack of use. I’ll see how it sounds in my next session. Maybe it will provide the spark that I need right now.

something shiny

Casting about for a new project makes for a moody guy in my case. It’s easy when there’s a plan. But what do you do when inspiration hasn’t dropped in lately? Pressfield and dozens of others tell us to show up. And they’re right. You never know when it will strike and you definitely want to be in the room when it does. I’m also making headway by tying my work to a place. Being sure that I’m physically in my studio ensures that even if I’m not making obvious progress, I’m putting in the time. There’s an association between the work and the place. I don’t think people realize how powerful that can be. We know it when it comes to jobs. When you’re at work you’re “at work.” Why should that be different for other things? It isn’t.

I’m still honoring my commitment to write down five things that I have done each day. Going into my studio always generates a point for that list. Sometimes more than one. This is great for general motivation. My current lack of direction could easily have led to a week off and I have to be honest and credit my wife’s TV show being on last night for putting me into the physical space. That simple pressure (I hate the theme music on her show…and yes, I’ve long accepted the fact that I’m a freak) coupled with my need to have five things for my notebook put me into the room physically. But once I was in there, good things happened despite the absence of a plan.

As it turns out, getting results is pretty easy when you show up. The hard part is finding the mechanisms that ensure you do.