I may have touched on this before in previous entries...I'm not really sure. I know I talked about it quite a while ago in an entry on my old MySpace blog where I spoke about the Kings of Leon album Because of the Times. I was really thrilled with that album, or thrilled BY that album when it came out, simply because it made me feel some things about a record that I simply had not felt in quite some time (save all your comments about how you liked their first two records better than their new stuff...I quite simply don't care). Listening to that record at that time took me back to a time when music could still surprise me in ways that it doesn't so much anymore, at least not regularly. A time when the thrill of discovering something new, whether it was an album, a band, whatever, was a key experience of life itself. I can't say that's the case these days...Mind you, there are other amazing things in my life that surprise me consistently in really beautiful ways (my wife, God, etc.), but I so miss the innocence of that time in my life (starting somewhere in junior high, probably, and lasting through most of college).
I find these days that one of the biggest things that gets in the way of having these experiences is TIME, or lack thereof. I read a post from Wil Wheaton's blog today where he references a particular phenomenon that writers experience, being that they spend a lot of time doing what appears to be "nothing", when in fact, they are simply making themselves available for inspiration, ideas, etc. to occur. I don't think this phenomenon only applies to writers...I think it applies to most artists/creative people. I think, in order for our art to truly thrive, not only to we have to cultivate those spaces of "nothing", but we also have to actively engage art/music/whatever on an experiential level. Listening is as much a part of my life as a musician as composing or performing is, and I have tried very hard lately to make it a part of the rubric again. Facts are that there simply aren't enough hours in the day to do all of it the way that I would like (O to compose, practice, and listen every day, while also managing to accomplish something that might actually produce some income). The "nothing" time is kind of like the "listening" time, whether it be to music, or our own thoughts, the aether, whatever.
I think that cultivating time also cultivates the opportunity for these magical experiences with art, music, whatever to start to happen again...the time factor is really the only thing that's different for me, most days, from the way I felt when I was 20. I mean, God help me, most days I still don't feel a day over 25, and those who know me know that I'm getting really close to sounding ridiculous making statements like that. I try not to act much older than 25, at least in the way that I approach things enthusiasm-wise. As I sit here, listening to Phish pump through the headphones, I hope and pray that I live long...I still have a lot of living to do. I feel as though life has just begun for me in many respects, and that as I mature in this world, it will not look much like how most people do it. I'm fine with that...it's all YOU PEOPLE out there who are going to have to adjust. Yes, I'm still going to be listening to Phish, Frank Zappa, The Clash and Sonic Youth when I'm 60. Sorry to disappoint. I'm not going to "chill out" and start listening to Sting and Coldplay because it's "respectable old people rock music". As we get older we should start hungering for more and more powerful and visceral experiences, not ones that are less so.
I start to feel an inkling, as I'm typing this, that the experiences I so long for are coming back, maybe just a little. That element is working itself back into my life, in a good way. I have very much come to a place where going after what I want and what is important to me is no longer negotiable. That, coupled with a sense of humility and the knowledge that I'm not really in charge, is the most freeing thing in the world. If I head towards the things that I want and find to be precious, I'll end up where I'm supposed to be anyway.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Ugh. Suck Round-Up.
So, I really can’t believe the gall of some people. I mean, I suppose it’s par for the course…the world that brought us Britney Spears, Nickelback AND Insane Clown Posse would somehow, someway eventually see a New Kids On the Block reunion. The inevitability doesn’t make it hurt any less. Kind of like the inevitability of DEATH doesn’t make it hurt any less. Not only are the New Kids insulting us with their very presence, but they’ve had the nerve to blame their poor ticket sales on THE RECESSION. Could it be that in this time of hardship, people want SOMETHING MORE out of their art/music/etc. than just dimestore, teeny-bopper swill?? Isn’t it possible that the time for the disgustingly bad music foisted on us by this band of pretty boy slags has passed? That the public at large has wised up? I mean, Dear God Almighty.
Part two of the Suck Round-Up this week simply MUST be devoted to the fact that Sting (the biggest turncoat in the history of music…member of a pivotal, significant, and fundamentally AWESOME band goes solo and becomes a purveyor of adult contemporary, lite-pop, trendy world music-influenced tripe that sounds not only like it’s destined for the muzak channel at the grocery store, but that it was created with said channel IN MIND) has decided to make another record, and that this record he’s making shows no indication that last year’s Police reunion had any sort of “wake-up call” effect on him at all. Here is Rolling Stone’s description of his upcoming record:
“The October 27th album, inspired by what Sting calls his favorite season, will feature two original compositions along with carols, lullabies and traditional songs from the British Isles.”
SERIOUSLY?? This has the potential to be the most boring record EVER. The man who I thought had already perfected the art of being an overly innocuous, adult contemporary snore might actually top himself in that department. Ultimately, I just don’t get it I suppose. The Police made some of the most compelling records in the entire rock & roll canon, and I can’t understand why someone would abandon all the elements that made that music so great and go in such a profoundly uninteresting direction. Mind you, I have nothing against traditional music (much of it, including the British kind, is compelling in its own right), but I guarantee you that Sting will somehow manage to completely strip it of any feeling and energy whatsoever (see the “Kenny G Style Production With Vocals” approach that made the song “Fields of Gold” such a big hit, meanwhile possibly completely obliterating what is probably a pretty decent song).
Ugh. Thank God there’s a new Wilco album coming out, as well as a new Phish album and a Beastie Boys record. The Beatles reissues are coming up quick, too…These things, quite simply must restore balance to the universe, jedi-style.
Part two of the Suck Round-Up this week simply MUST be devoted to the fact that Sting (the biggest turncoat in the history of music…member of a pivotal, significant, and fundamentally AWESOME band goes solo and becomes a purveyor of adult contemporary, lite-pop, trendy world music-influenced tripe that sounds not only like it’s destined for the muzak channel at the grocery store, but that it was created with said channel IN MIND) has decided to make another record, and that this record he’s making shows no indication that last year’s Police reunion had any sort of “wake-up call” effect on him at all. Here is Rolling Stone’s description of his upcoming record:
“The October 27th album, inspired by what Sting calls his favorite season, will feature two original compositions along with carols, lullabies and traditional songs from the British Isles.”
SERIOUSLY?? This has the potential to be the most boring record EVER. The man who I thought had already perfected the art of being an overly innocuous, adult contemporary snore might actually top himself in that department. Ultimately, I just don’t get it I suppose. The Police made some of the most compelling records in the entire rock & roll canon, and I can’t understand why someone would abandon all the elements that made that music so great and go in such a profoundly uninteresting direction. Mind you, I have nothing against traditional music (much of it, including the British kind, is compelling in its own right), but I guarantee you that Sting will somehow manage to completely strip it of any feeling and energy whatsoever (see the “Kenny G Style Production With Vocals” approach that made the song “Fields of Gold” such a big hit, meanwhile possibly completely obliterating what is probably a pretty decent song).
Ugh. Thank God there’s a new Wilco album coming out, as well as a new Phish album and a Beastie Boys record. The Beatles reissues are coming up quick, too…These things, quite simply must restore balance to the universe, jedi-style.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Compartmentalizing the Morass
So, K.C. & I returned from the Kerrville Folk Festival almost a week ago, after having spent about 12 days there (Kerrville is an 18-day festival). We’ve been in years previous, but only for the first weekend (the festival always starts Memorial Day weekend). It’s a totally different experience when you allow yourself to be immersed in it…almost in the same way that music is a MUCH different experience for those who choose to make it a significant part of their lives (or perhaps it chooses you…”Almost Famous” always creeping in the background) than it is for those who only allow it to stay out on the periphery somewhere. Yes, you who listen to the “lite rock” station and claim to love “all types of music” have NO REAL IDEA what a true experience of music is. You simply have not allowed yourself to dig in as much, or allowed the music to dig into you. Okay, I’m totally getting sidetracked.
All this to say that Kerrville was a revelation on many, many levels. Here we are, we’re camping on a ranch with God knows how many other people, a large majority of whom are songwriters. The place is wall to wall tents, trailers, campers and large canopies under which various camps have created their “campfires” (“campfire” in this scenario does not involve any actual fire…it is the standard term for the spots in which somewhat organized song circles ensue. What’s a song circle? It’s when people sit in a circle and play songs, dumbass). Toilets have no plumbing attached…they are semi-permanent port-a-johns. There are showers, but be prepared to look at a bunch of naked people of your gender while taking one. Formal performances happen primarily in the evening, either at the Kennedy Theater (the larger, outdoor theater commonly referred to by the Kerrville-initiated as “mainstage”) or the Threadgill Theater. Mainstage on weekends, Threadgill during the week.
All this music is acoustically based, hence the Kerrville FOLK Festival. Yes, Dylan went electric in 1965, and occasionally there are full bands involved with some electric guitars, etc. But the songwriting element is key—the song is king, and it had better be up to snuff. It can be boring-ass, I-IV-V all day long as long as you’re saying something, and saying it in a way that has some poetry and cleverness to it. To experience so much of this music sitting in a song circle/campfire is remarkable…so many songs, just one person and his/her guitar, laying it out there in the most raw, pure form possible. It’s an extremely pure way to experience music. I felt that way so many times during those 12 days…like I was experiencing something really pure. That being said, it kicked my ass in ways I wasn’t expecting...you can really get bogged down in insecurity at Kerrville if you’re a songwriter. Or a guitar player. I was over the insecurity thing within a few days, but the insecurity turned into a very clear recognition of one thing: as a “rock” songwriter, lyrically I can’t hold a candle to these people, not even (especially not even) my own wife. These songwriters are craftsmen of the highest order, and have to be—the standard in their genre is really high. I mean, it’s WAY higher than it is in rock. I think about the lyrics to a song like, say, “Do You Realize???” by the Flaming Lips (recently declared the official state rock song of Oklahoma) and I think about how great I think the lyrics are to that song, but they don’t even approach the standard set by some of these songwriters. I am not saying that “Do You Realize???” is a bad song. It’s a great freakin’ song. The fact that it’s a “rock” song, though, allows it a certain set of parameters in terms of its content. Take a song like “Blue Tattoo” by Joe Crookston, though, and pour that down your throat (I’d also like to cite the song Chris O’Brien wrote on the ranch while we were there, but unfortunately there is no spot in which to listen to it online yet). This song is amazing in its storytelling capacity, it’s poetic capacity, etc. It operates in a different universe than the Flaming Lips. It makes a rock songwriter feel out of his element to have songs like this cropping up all the time. Out of my element is fine…I understand that what I do is different, and not necessarily bad.
As a guitar player, however, it was a different story. I basically decided some time right around the middle of our 12 days that I was going to come home and become a MUCH better acoustic guitarist. Most of the crap I do on an acoustic guitar is just the same crap I do on electric transferred over. This is not the right approach, especially when it comes to folk. I am, very much, someone who operates as a “guitarist” in the folk world, so I’ve got work to do. I’ve got to fingerpick better, I’ve got to be able to play solos that are more appropriate to the acoustic instrument. I get compliments on my playing but they’re mostly from dudes who can hear in their heads what I’d sound like on electric. So, the woodshedding begins. I haven’t put in any significant practice on my instrument in a number of years, so it really is about time. I am very much looking forward to it, and that is key. I do music full-time, so practice should be a part of what I do, period.
In the midst of all this, of course (I say “of course” because this is starting to become routine for me…any large-scale immersion in the folk world usually results in the following line of thinking), I start to doubt the future of Dr. Pants. I start to wonder if I really have the desire or unction to stay in a rock band long-term. Acoustic music is so damned EFFICIENT. You and your instrument go up there, you plug it in (not even that if you’re campfirin’) and you go. There are no amplifiers, there is no loud drummer (at least for a lot of us...some mainstage performers played with large ensembles that included drum kit), just you and the damned song. I envy this proposition. It is part of what’s behind the decision to constantly tour the crap out of K.C. Clifford and leave Dr. Pants as an afterthought (the commercial viability of K.C. Clifford, and all the obvious financial constraints of acoustic duo vs. 4-piece rock band are quite key as well). I came home not really sure what to do next, other than practice my acoustic guitar. Luckily, fate stepped in, we did a rad podcast taping for the Elmocast at the Oklahoma City CoCo, and the next morning “Donuts” was used on CBS Sunday Morning. Voila. Dr. Pants continues unabated. I mean, I am really excited about all of this. I am also really excited about getting back on the road in July and playing some kick-ass Midwestern house concerts with K.C.
So, where is the music in all this? Who kicked ass at Kerrville? Who were some of my “favorites”? Before I go any further, I will say (with less bias than you think) that K.C.’s mainstage set was fantastic. The aforementioned Joe Crookston definitely qualifies. We listened to his record on the way home, and it’s great, too (although it lacks a certain visceral, present quality that is part of what makes listening to him in person so special. Sorry, Joe, if you’re reading this I hope that doesn’t hurt your pride). Our friend Chris O’Brien (Mr. Boston Hot Sauce himself) continues to impress as well. Louise Mosrie, one of the winners of the Kerrville New Folk competition (the songwriting competition that takes place on the first weekend of the festival…K.C. was a finalist in this competition in 2006 and 2007, but was not chosen as one of the 6 winners either time), just blew me away. Lucy Wainwright Roche was a favorite also. Find her song “Snare Drum”. Sarah Sample was fantastic, and her records (also experienced on our drive home) matched our live impressions completely. Who else was awesome? The list goes on and on…John Wort Hannam, Susan Gibson, Butch Morgan, Joe Jencks, Jaime Michaels, Steven Bacon, Bettysoo, Hans York, Devon Sproule, R.J. Cowdery, Drew Nelson, Karen Mal, Brian Kalinec, George Ensle, Larry Murante, Erik Balkey…I could go on. It is interesting to me, though, that what I said about Joe’s record could apply to a number of the folks I mentioned above. The standard operating procedure of “folk record making” could use an overhaul, in my opinion. It’s just my opinion, you can take it or leave it. The instrumentation needs to be shaken up, the production needs to become more adventurous. Rock music learned a long time ago that ANYTHING REALLY DOES GO a lot of the time. Folk artists need to become more comfortable with the idea of taking chances (at least on record…most of these songs survive “as is” in a live context just fine. It all goes back to the lyrical devices I spoke of earlier).
Now that I’ve totally ripped the folk community a new one in regards to their records…let me remind you that I’m accepting submissions for music reviews! Ha-HA! Oh, the irony. No, seriously, I really do want to review your record, and I will, if you are brave enough to send it my way. If you want me to just review one mp3, I’ll do that, too. Contact me at doctorpants@doctorpants.com to get mailing address info, or just email me an mp3. I’ll review pretty much anything, although if it’s something I hate so much that I don’t even want to make the effort, I probably won’t.
The title of this entry, “Compartmentalizing the Morass”, might seem a bit cryptic at this point, since I have yet to allude to it on any explicit level. In closing, I’ll attempt to illustrate. I suppose it refers to several things:
1) I had a lot of thoughts and feelings about Kerrville, very few of which I have really managed to express properly here. Compartmentalization inevitably leads to reduction in overall content.
2) I am currently struggling with the purpose and supposed boundaries of this blog. This is a blog about music, and my interactions with it, but ultimately I’m playing more music than I’m listening to as of late, and so many things in regards to Dr. Pants and K.C. Clifford (not to mention Weird Files, etc.) can and are becoming fodder for blog entries. I don’t anticipate this changing, but is this blog becoming an “official” blog for Dr. Pants?? That brings up a whole other mess of questions. “Am I changing the name” is one. I like “The Mixtape Jones Report”. I don’t want that to go away. Compartmentalizing the morass of music-related information continues to prove challenging.
Peace out, y’all. More soon, I hope.
All this to say that Kerrville was a revelation on many, many levels. Here we are, we’re camping on a ranch with God knows how many other people, a large majority of whom are songwriters. The place is wall to wall tents, trailers, campers and large canopies under which various camps have created their “campfires” (“campfire” in this scenario does not involve any actual fire…it is the standard term for the spots in which somewhat organized song circles ensue. What’s a song circle? It’s when people sit in a circle and play songs, dumbass). Toilets have no plumbing attached…they are semi-permanent port-a-johns. There are showers, but be prepared to look at a bunch of naked people of your gender while taking one. Formal performances happen primarily in the evening, either at the Kennedy Theater (the larger, outdoor theater commonly referred to by the Kerrville-initiated as “mainstage”) or the Threadgill Theater. Mainstage on weekends, Threadgill during the week.
All this music is acoustically based, hence the Kerrville FOLK Festival. Yes, Dylan went electric in 1965, and occasionally there are full bands involved with some electric guitars, etc. But the songwriting element is key—the song is king, and it had better be up to snuff. It can be boring-ass, I-IV-V all day long as long as you’re saying something, and saying it in a way that has some poetry and cleverness to it. To experience so much of this music sitting in a song circle/campfire is remarkable…so many songs, just one person and his/her guitar, laying it out there in the most raw, pure form possible. It’s an extremely pure way to experience music. I felt that way so many times during those 12 days…like I was experiencing something really pure. That being said, it kicked my ass in ways I wasn’t expecting...you can really get bogged down in insecurity at Kerrville if you’re a songwriter. Or a guitar player. I was over the insecurity thing within a few days, but the insecurity turned into a very clear recognition of one thing: as a “rock” songwriter, lyrically I can’t hold a candle to these people, not even (especially not even) my own wife. These songwriters are craftsmen of the highest order, and have to be—the standard in their genre is really high. I mean, it’s WAY higher than it is in rock. I think about the lyrics to a song like, say, “Do You Realize???” by the Flaming Lips (recently declared the official state rock song of Oklahoma) and I think about how great I think the lyrics are to that song, but they don’t even approach the standard set by some of these songwriters. I am not saying that “Do You Realize???” is a bad song. It’s a great freakin’ song. The fact that it’s a “rock” song, though, allows it a certain set of parameters in terms of its content. Take a song like “Blue Tattoo” by Joe Crookston, though, and pour that down your throat (I’d also like to cite the song Chris O’Brien wrote on the ranch while we were there, but unfortunately there is no spot in which to listen to it online yet). This song is amazing in its storytelling capacity, it’s poetic capacity, etc. It operates in a different universe than the Flaming Lips. It makes a rock songwriter feel out of his element to have songs like this cropping up all the time. Out of my element is fine…I understand that what I do is different, and not necessarily bad.
As a guitar player, however, it was a different story. I basically decided some time right around the middle of our 12 days that I was going to come home and become a MUCH better acoustic guitarist. Most of the crap I do on an acoustic guitar is just the same crap I do on electric transferred over. This is not the right approach, especially when it comes to folk. I am, very much, someone who operates as a “guitarist” in the folk world, so I’ve got work to do. I’ve got to fingerpick better, I’ve got to be able to play solos that are more appropriate to the acoustic instrument. I get compliments on my playing but they’re mostly from dudes who can hear in their heads what I’d sound like on electric. So, the woodshedding begins. I haven’t put in any significant practice on my instrument in a number of years, so it really is about time. I am very much looking forward to it, and that is key. I do music full-time, so practice should be a part of what I do, period.
In the midst of all this, of course (I say “of course” because this is starting to become routine for me…any large-scale immersion in the folk world usually results in the following line of thinking), I start to doubt the future of Dr. Pants. I start to wonder if I really have the desire or unction to stay in a rock band long-term. Acoustic music is so damned EFFICIENT. You and your instrument go up there, you plug it in (not even that if you’re campfirin’) and you go. There are no amplifiers, there is no loud drummer (at least for a lot of us...some mainstage performers played with large ensembles that included drum kit), just you and the damned song. I envy this proposition. It is part of what’s behind the decision to constantly tour the crap out of K.C. Clifford and leave Dr. Pants as an afterthought (the commercial viability of K.C. Clifford, and all the obvious financial constraints of acoustic duo vs. 4-piece rock band are quite key as well). I came home not really sure what to do next, other than practice my acoustic guitar. Luckily, fate stepped in, we did a rad podcast taping for the Elmocast at the Oklahoma City CoCo, and the next morning “Donuts” was used on CBS Sunday Morning. Voila. Dr. Pants continues unabated. I mean, I am really excited about all of this. I am also really excited about getting back on the road in July and playing some kick-ass Midwestern house concerts with K.C.
So, where is the music in all this? Who kicked ass at Kerrville? Who were some of my “favorites”? Before I go any further, I will say (with less bias than you think) that K.C.’s mainstage set was fantastic. The aforementioned Joe Crookston definitely qualifies. We listened to his record on the way home, and it’s great, too (although it lacks a certain visceral, present quality that is part of what makes listening to him in person so special. Sorry, Joe, if you’re reading this I hope that doesn’t hurt your pride). Our friend Chris O’Brien (Mr. Boston Hot Sauce himself) continues to impress as well. Louise Mosrie, one of the winners of the Kerrville New Folk competition (the songwriting competition that takes place on the first weekend of the festival…K.C. was a finalist in this competition in 2006 and 2007, but was not chosen as one of the 6 winners either time), just blew me away. Lucy Wainwright Roche was a favorite also. Find her song “Snare Drum”. Sarah Sample was fantastic, and her records (also experienced on our drive home) matched our live impressions completely. Who else was awesome? The list goes on and on…John Wort Hannam, Susan Gibson, Butch Morgan, Joe Jencks, Jaime Michaels, Steven Bacon, Bettysoo, Hans York, Devon Sproule, R.J. Cowdery, Drew Nelson, Karen Mal, Brian Kalinec, George Ensle, Larry Murante, Erik Balkey…I could go on. It is interesting to me, though, that what I said about Joe’s record could apply to a number of the folks I mentioned above. The standard operating procedure of “folk record making” could use an overhaul, in my opinion. It’s just my opinion, you can take it or leave it. The instrumentation needs to be shaken up, the production needs to become more adventurous. Rock music learned a long time ago that ANYTHING REALLY DOES GO a lot of the time. Folk artists need to become more comfortable with the idea of taking chances (at least on record…most of these songs survive “as is” in a live context just fine. It all goes back to the lyrical devices I spoke of earlier).
Now that I’ve totally ripped the folk community a new one in regards to their records…let me remind you that I’m accepting submissions for music reviews! Ha-HA! Oh, the irony. No, seriously, I really do want to review your record, and I will, if you are brave enough to send it my way. If you want me to just review one mp3, I’ll do that, too. Contact me at doctorpants@doctorpants.com to get mailing address info, or just email me an mp3. I’ll review pretty much anything, although if it’s something I hate so much that I don’t even want to make the effort, I probably won’t.
The title of this entry, “Compartmentalizing the Morass”, might seem a bit cryptic at this point, since I have yet to allude to it on any explicit level. In closing, I’ll attempt to illustrate. I suppose it refers to several things:
1) I had a lot of thoughts and feelings about Kerrville, very few of which I have really managed to express properly here. Compartmentalization inevitably leads to reduction in overall content.
2) I am currently struggling with the purpose and supposed boundaries of this blog. This is a blog about music, and my interactions with it, but ultimately I’m playing more music than I’m listening to as of late, and so many things in regards to Dr. Pants and K.C. Clifford (not to mention Weird Files, etc.) can and are becoming fodder for blog entries. I don’t anticipate this changing, but is this blog becoming an “official” blog for Dr. Pants?? That brings up a whole other mess of questions. “Am I changing the name” is one. I like “The Mixtape Jones Report”. I don’t want that to go away. Compartmentalizing the morass of music-related information continues to prove challenging.
Peace out, y’all. More soon, I hope.
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