A Year of Open Mics

I got out there and performed a lot of songs this year. Open mics, one of which I host, group concerts, benefits, and just for fun with fellow songwriters and friends.

Which was something of a departure for me. It's not that I didn't perform; I did, just not very often.

This year, however, I thought I should do more and with the pleasant prodding from Joy Taeko, I ended up going out every week at least once or twice, which, over a year's time is a lot for a shut-in like me.

The result, is that I, as you would assume, got better at performing: more comfortable, more emotive, which is very important, and a better player. All of which works to one's benefit.

The other thing, and I mentioned this before, is how much talent and variety is out there, and what a joy and pleasure it is to be a part of it. If streaming and the popular media is the only place you hear new music (or the same old stuff), then you're missing out on many wonderful experiences. Sure, open mics aren't going to have the same caliber of performance as professionals, but that's beside the point. The joy is in being a physical part of it, of being close and personal because the songs are always personal and a means for people to explore and explain how they see life and how it affects them.

And don't downplay the part community plays in all of this. We need each other and thrive off one another, music especially.

Here's to another fun year.

©2019 David William Pearce

Official End of the Year Summation or Something Like That...

All in all, it wasn't a bad year!

For someone who does very little advertising, and I'll get to that in a minute, as the above attests, people are listening, which is what all artists want, right? While it's not mind blowing, it's not too bad considering I'm an old guy putting out original music without the benefit of a label or a big PR machine or the youthful pout that is part and parcel-still to this day-of the popular music scene.

I got over that. Plus it's not a good look for someone my age.

The above doesn't include the many plays on other platforms such as Apple Music and Shazam and any downloads from CD Baby, of which there have been a few. I've also sold a few CDs, so that revenue stream hasn't completely dried up. And I've made a few bucks performing. More, I should say, from everything else, but that true of everyone in music, including the big stars. Sad, but that's life these days.

Recording-wise, it been a productive year as well. I've released 2 albums, Desperate Mothers, in January, and Winter, in July.                                                                   

Desperate Mothers, from 1984, was another of the legacy albums I made in the 89's, but 3 of the songs had to be redone because the originals weren't as good as the rest of the songs on the album. It's therefore an album of old and new.

Winter, which was actually written just after Desperate Mothers in late '83, but never properly recorded-there were only demos of the songs-turned into something like a passion work in that the more I got into it, the more I felt I had to complete it, which put all the new music I was working on on the back burner. I'm working on those songs now.

The surprising thing when you go back and revisit songs and find they need a better recorded version is how little little the arrangements needed to be changed, which is code for I liked them they way they were. Winter was in some ways an actualization of the music I had heard in my head whenever I would listen to the demos, which wasn't very often mainly because they weren't what I wanted them to be. Being able, finally, to record them the way I wanted was an almost transcendent experience.

As to the advertising, I am, at this point in my life, fairly sanguine about whether there's any value in trying to get people to listen to what I've recorded. I am too old to fully take advantage of these new platforms, though I am grateful that I now have a reasonably inexpensive way to disseminate my music. People in their formative years, musically speaking, aren't going to be interested in old guy tunes, and the people who would be are older and therefore have already formed their music preferences.

I'm ok with that. After all, I still write, record, and perform. And that, essentially, is all I need.

©2019 David William Pearce

Billie Eilish Doesn't Love Van Halen?

I am depressed. And I'm apparently not the only one. Billie Eilish isn't hip to Van Halen, Huey Lewis and the News, and God know how many bands I know well. And just who is this Billie Eilish anyway?

Well...

She and her brother, as they are technically an act like the Carpenters (Remember them?), are the hip new thing at this very moment. And as any intrepid sort, I went to Spotify and checked them out. And? It's good stuff. Of course, her music isn't meant for an old dude like me, but I still recognize good music when I hear it.

So what the diff?

Partly it's the idea that the young, steeped in the weight of rock-pop that has now lasted nearly 70's years, should somehow be conversant with all of its periods and ages. Those of us who grew up in the heyday of rock have been spoiled by its resilience and the deference given the music from our period of rock-pop, so we assume everyone knows it or has been living in a cave.

So... yeah!

To which I say: to the whiners from my day, given that Van Halen first came to prominence in 1978, more than 40 years ago, how many of you can name the top bands from 40 years before that? We're talking the late 30's and early 40's. But of course you're all hip to Glenn Miller, Bing Crosby, and the like. But probably not, because only grandpa listened to that stuff and we were, if  anything, deeply dismissive of the past.

We were it, baby!

Yet we are now grandpa even if we still hear Van Halen played all over the place. or at least where we listen to stuff. If nothing else, we should revel in the fact that "our" music continues to live on and inspire, even if the exact sources aren't universally known.

It might be dead, as the song laments, but long-lived.

©2019 David William Pearce

Totally Bummed...

I am depressed. Turns out I was not voted guitarist of the decade. Gloom and despair shall haunt me for the rest of my days! When, oh, when, will my talents be understood and appreciated?

Woe is me.

Too much?

Like anyone who plays an instrument, there are those who leave me in awe. From Charlie Christian, through Django Reinhardt, to Hendrix, Van Halen, Satriani, and Eric Johnson to name just a few. Listening and watching them, I've been influenced and discouraged all at the same time. My talents, it turns out, only go so far and sadly not to their level.

And probably never will.

But I still work at being able to play what I need to be able to play in the service of the songs that I write. And that is what is most important. If you play, either to perform or record or both and you don't want someone else to play the parts, then you have to rise as far as you need to.

I started as a strummer because it was the easiest way to play and because at the time it did the trick. But as I heard the songs in my head, I knew I'd have to learn other styles, most importantly, fingerpicking and lead, neither of which I was any good at. After a while I got better at them and became confident enough to do those parts myself.

Occasionally, people will compliment me on my playing, which is nice and which I'm reticent to accept because I don't consider myself to be particularly good, but that comes from comparisons with famous guitarists, which are not fair because there are only so many truly gifted guitarists out there. There are plenty of local guitarists who can play me under the table let alone Clapton, or Beck, or Tommy Emmanuel.

But in the service of the songs I write, my playing is pretty good and I think that's what they're complimenting. Which is nice and that's what I appreciate.

©2019 David William Pearce

All the Answers in the World are on My iPod

I've been listening to music my entire life, which now spans 60 years, a fact I will admit annoys me. I can't stop it or reverse time-that presents its own perverse problems-but the icy hand of death is certainly closer than it was, say, 40 years ago.

But this isn't about that. Because I've been tethered to music for all of my eternity, to be without it would be the same as being without oxygen. Fortunately, I'm not alone in this regard.

It is, though, about the magic that music grants me in the mundane tasks of existence that burden me on a daily basis. As it is Fall and as I have a fairly large treed lot, leaves and the detritus of the season are there for me to endure. Raking is its own heaven or hell depending how you look at it, but aside from the manual labor, raking, given that I will be spending close to 24 hours combined over the Fall cleaning up, will give me long periods of uninterrupted time to listen to music.

This year I decided to go back to that decade that is so much like the one we're in, with some minor exceptions, the 70's. It's not exhaustive, only 378 songs, but representative of all the stuff I listened to during that time be it from radio, records, or live from the performer's mouth or instrument. I won't bore you with who's on the list: we all have our own, assuming you have an interest in the first place, but I consider it fairly representative of the decade.

Along with it giving something to preoccupy me; yardwork, after all, isn't particular exciting on its own, the music does so many wonderful things: First, it grooves, whether rock, jazz, country, instrumental, fast, slow, sweet, or sad. And yes, even disco! Second, as is common with all things memorial, it evokes the past, certainly for me as I happened to be alive at the time. Third, being music of the recorded kind, I keep my ear tuned for what is being played, on what, and how it is produced.

In some ways this is the most fun, because none of the tunes is new to me in any way, I end up listening to sounds, phrasing, placement, arrangements; fun stuff like that. It is an endless cavalcade of ideas and inspiration.

I highly recommend it if you have any aspirations to record.

Or if you have a yard full of leaves calling your name.

©2019 David William Pearce

More Popular than Jesus?

A few further thoughts on 50 Years Ago Today...

Apparently, the Beatles are still well known and income generators for their label. I'm shocked! Well, not really. Despite the fact that both John and George have died and Paul and Ringo are well into their 70s, Beatles music remains popular even among kids. This continues to strike me as odd. Shouldn't they be obsessed with their music, the music of right now?

We were.

But then, having thought about it, a few other thoughts came into my head about what exactly I was listening to when I was young. Like today's kids-they probably hate that term as much as we did-most of what I heard was on the radio. If something really got me going, I went out and bought the record. I assume today if you hear something you like while streaming, you can add it to your personal playlist. I don't know if the kids then listen obsessively to it like I did, but I assume they do because I don't think they're that much different from us.

Of course as I got older my interests expanded. I still like and listen to Jazz regularly and have a soft spot for the music from the late 40's through early 60's, and yes that includes everything from the somnambulistic languid stuff to the crazy bebop that is Jazz's version of speed metal. I also got more into Americana and Classical.

Good music is good music no matter its age.

And while streaming has its critics, as all mediums do, it does afford listeners the ability to stream whole catalogs, which was impossible back when I was young. Much as I wanted to hear the bands and musicians I read about, hearing all of them would have been very expensive and time consuming as not every record store had the albums and radio certaining didn't play entire catalogs or even albums back to back.

The bigger question is how imprinted the music is to those who stream if they're hearing lots of different bands and musicians but not hearing the songs over and over as we did in the past. It's possible the reason music from 40 or 50 years ago is so impressed into kids minds is that we, their parents, played it all the time when they were young and whether they like it or not, the do remember it.

So whether today's music is as well known as the old stuff, I guess we'll see, but I think it will be just maybe prompted differently because it was absorbed differently.

©2019 David William Pearce

Damn Little Fingers!

Totally bummed!

Occasionally, I get it in my head to learn a new tune, one that's not my own, or a part of a song that I think is just too fun. The beginning of Led Zeppelin's Achilles Last Stand is one example. It's basically going back and forth between a F#m(add) and Em9. Simple right?

Except when you can't get your fingers where they're supposed to go.

Now there are cheats which require a certain level of dexterity and speed since you're not setting your fingers in the structure of the chord and simply picking the strings in the order set out on the page. I don't have long elegant fingers and I'm no longer young and supple in my movements-that matters. It's why there are no old prodigies.

It also explains why some can effortlessly play like Stevie Ray and the rest of us can't even as we studiously try our best to master sweep strumming and picking. Just watch the videos and watch their hands and fingers as they move along the fretboard. Yes, some of it is the result of lots of practice and playing-wood-shedding if you like. But they also possess the physical talents the rest of us lack. Just like premier athletes, premier musicians have the skill and dexterity the rest of us don't. That's the way it is. Only so many people can play Rachmaninoff properly and effortlessly-at least as those of us in the audience perceive it-they too work very hard at that appearance of effortlessness.

It's also the reason why when we listen to people trying to play some of this stuff it doesn't sound quite right or like the original. All of us can play a passable version of Freebird or Stairway to Heaven, but they're not that tough unless you want to nail it and not everyone can. But again, it's not like trying to nail a Joe Satriani solo (or entire song) or the twin solos played by Joe Walsh and Don Felder on Hotel California. 

At this point you maybe asking: "What are you getting at, Dave?"

Well, you can give up-for me that means 32nd note solos that are for the most part flash and bang-or you can work through it and inevitably discover something you didn't know before, so you gain from that.

That, and a better appreciation for the talents of those who can play what you can't.

©2019 David William Pearce

What Happened to our Music Scene?

In a short blast, a KUOW reporter asked what happened to the Seattle music scene. You know, the one that produced Pearl Jam, Nirvana, and Soundgarden among others. The answer was that Seattle's too expense, so people are leaving.

I'm not so sure.

Yes, Seattle and its surrounding suburban environs are not cheap places to live, but neither is LA, New York, and Nashville and people still flock to those cities with wide-eyed dreams, mostly because they have the business infrastructure that supports musicians and songwriter/creators. That doesn't mean you'll make it anymore than being here in Seattle.

The article is quite short and pivots quickly from people leaving because housing, studios, and rehearsal space is expense to how to convince the next generation to stay by providing 5G technology etc, as if that's all it takes. And as if those of us already here and making music are a lost cause and dead weight.

Like most of these kinds of quick go nowhere comments, it avoids the elephant in the room, which is how hard it is to be paid period for providing something unique and interesting. Some may argue that point, but having been part of it for a long time and having heard the wide range of talent in this town, young and old, it's apparent that the problem, as stated above, is being able to make a living making music.

Everything else is, in essence, dross. Unless the city is interested in funding and supporting artists to a point where they're earning enough to support themselves or see that support as having a social value, then in the end it won't fix the problem or stem the exodus.

Some of this is self-perpetuating in that any artist life in the societies we've created is predicated on a value often independent of that effort, meaning most artists never make back what they put into it. So it can't be a surprise if after a while, artists will either give up, move on, or move where the possibilities are better.

If you want a vibrant local music scene, you have to support it and in a capitalist society that means paying for it.

It's that simple.

©2019 David William Pearce

It Just Keeps Getting Better...

As frequent readers of this blog will note, I find the whole vinyl craze fascinating, to say the least. Now, I found out, I'll soon be able to manufacture my own vinyl records right in the privacy of my own home! If there's one thing I need, it's a bunch of substandard records cluttering up the house. After all I already have 600 albums that I bought mostly in the 70's and 80's, and I probably have another 600-700 CD's. I think that's a lot, and it doesn't include downloads, but compared to some collections, it's fairly puny.

Who knows how much all this will cost. There's not only the machine itself, a couple of grand-I'm going to assume it also has a play feature-as well as the cost of the vinyl blanks and whatever system it's plugged into. That in itself has costs, but I've gone into that many times before.

Still, it's vinyl, man!

As this article in Fair Observer notes, how we hear sounds matters, that there is a quantifiable difference between headphones and speakers and actually being at a concert where real instruments and voices are not only heard but felt. That in a nutshell is why performance will never die out and may in fact proliferate as AI and other artificialities pervade all of our personal spaces. I whined about this last week.

I realize that there is an esthetic to records, that they require a certain level of activity and care that CD's and MP3's don't. They're bigger, they should be cleaned each time they're played; the cover art and lyrics, if included- not that many artists provided lyric in yon olden days- are easier to see, and they took up a lot more space. But that was a point of pride to collectors, that wall of albums no one else had.

There's also the inherent limitations of the medium and therefore limitations on how much you can shove onto it.

Recording and mastering engineers will undoubtedly be shaking their head at the idea that what I stick on my records through a USB connection-which means digital to analog-will be any good, that instead will produce any number of sonic and space problems, especially where highly compressed LOUD recordings are transferred to vinyl. That assumes that the people making these records are deeply discerning audiophiles.

I'm thinking no. It's a novelty.

Maybe that's the allure of the home make-your-own-record machine. Yes, that wall there is a collection of my records of other people's songs, although there may be my own stuff too. More likely, it'll be akin to all those mixtapes we made before iPods and their ilk made it much easier to put all your music on one convenient device. And mixtapes, like old records, have a special place for those who grew up with them. They also weren't known for their high fidelity, but that wasn't the point. The point was to have the songs you like in the order you liked and not what some radio DJ kept playing which sucked.

Just saying...

As a final thought... I've yet to read of anyone advocating for the multi-stack record players of my youth where the records would be stacked on top of one another and then flop down after the previous record played. While convenient, it was also scratch inducing, which all audiophiles of the time abhorred. I assume they still do. Of course, most of those people who had multi-stack record players didn't save their records anyway.

Just saying...

©2019 David William Pearce

Fake It to Make It...

AI musicians are already here!

Hmmm. At the risk of being redumbdant, I'll say again how fascinating this is. Think about it: people are already following, in good sized numbers, AI created musicians and entertainers. I italicized musicians for the very real reason that they're not! An avatar, hologram, program with a visual interface, won't be dazzling you with their technique while you stand 5 feet away because they don't physically exist...

But that's beside the point.

What is the point is that we humans are so predictable in what we respond to positively and negatively. AI listens to what we listen to, tracks us, and replicates it, time and time again until it knows exactly what we want to hear. And given the power of computing these days, it can be tailored individually.

Huh, huh, huh!

Let's see Taylor or Katy or Lorde do that!

They will, of course, dispute that, saying they're doing their own thing, even though their management, representatives, label use the same algorithms to study their fans in order to keep them buying, buying, buying as the AI created popstars, like Lil Miquela. Now they just have to figure out how to keep from aging out, something their AI competitors don't have to worry about. Lil Miquela may not stay popular, but she'll never be 40 or 50 doing nostalgia shows at a casino. Or like Poppy, they can pretend to be cyborgs.

Am I being harsh, mean?

Sorta, but pop itself is based on fads and stereotypes and the music is hardly nuanced and thoughtful-mostly it's hooks sung over and over until your head explodes. It's aural candy. Like its confectionary equivalent, it can be fun and dancey and mindless. It's not philosophy, but it has no real value, nutritional or otherwise.

So if you're a serious musician or singer or songwriter, all of the above means that your art is what you make of it and the realm of pop probably isn't going to be the land of milk and honey if it ever was.

But it certainly tests the limits, assuming there are any anymore, of where popular music is going.

©2019 David William Pearce

It Was 50 Years Ago Today...

50 years ago, the Beatles Abbey Road was released. Much has been written about the last Beatles album, and for those of us holding on to our old vinyl copies-see above-the obvious opportunity to vouchsafe our good taste and prescient abilities to know well in advance what good music is.

As well as use words like vouchsafe and prescient. Right?

Anyway, I feel quite confident that the "50 years ago today" theme will continue unabated till a good many of us are dead. Why? Because 50 years ago was, and this is considered by many, the beginning of the great age of rock music as it morphed from rock and roll-though many still called it that-into the colossus that we now refer to as ROCK!

And this looking back is most striking from the UK, given that the British invasion was at its zenith during this period.

The question I have is how far into the weeds, so to speak, do you go?

Think about all the significant bands from that period, from '69 to '75, just from England: the Stones, Moody Blues, Pink Floyd, Yes, Emerson, Lake, and Palmer, King Crimson, Genesis, Led Zeppelin... Then, of course, you have Jeff Beck, Clapton, Elton John, Lennon, McCartney, Harrison, Starr, and all the ones I can't think of at the moment but will the minute I finish this post. The next 5 to 10 years can be one album after another after another...

(Please feel free to add your own favorites.)

And then you can argue about punk!

Individually, I'm not adverse to a reasonably amount of looking back; Abbey Road was the final album from the seminal band of 60's and very much a precursor to their solo work. And much from that period, like Exile on Main Street, from the Stones, is considered the apex of their creative output.

For me, these retrospectives should be about how the albums impacted the musicians after them, and the musicians they borrowed from-with examples! As this is the great Boomer look back at our time musically, it ought to be more than a continuation of "ooh, look at us".

©2019 David William Pearce

The Record as Icon

As someone of a particular age- read old -I am less inclined to the recent fascination and elevation of vinyl, or as us oldsters used to say, records. I'm not against them, in fact, as the photo above can attest, I still have my phonograph, record player, which I still use from time to time.

Mostly while watching sports because the play-by-play and commentary has, of late, become just a lot of background noise. Why not listen to something more interesting? With 4K hi-def, I won't be missing anything visually.

But this isn't about that.

No, this is about the elementary nature of playing records, which I imagine is part of the renewed interest in buying and spinning platters. Hipsters, anyone?

Naturally, in order to play records, one needs a record player, also referred to as turntables and phonographs. A quick review on Amazon finds many available from the portable, which were popular when you wanted to play anywhere, to $1000 Japanese imports. And for those with lots of extra dollars, there are the high end models that cost as much as a car.

Then there's the fun of getting up to flip the record (don't forget to clean it).

None of this is new to someone like me, who lived through the great age of vinyl in the 60's (probably the 50's as well, but that predates me) through the 80's, when CD's made their play. The irony with the whole record thing is that the quality of sound, which is what the Dad's are swinging, man, because records are king, is predicated on the entire signal chain, meaning that everything from the phonograph to the amp (preamp)/receiver to the speakers, including the wires, plays into how "good" your record sounds. This is minus the inherent limitations of vinyl to begin with, but that's old hat.

That means if you buy a $50 tabletop phonograph with built-in speakers, it probably won't sound any better than the MP3 does through tinny earbuds. For those more discernible listeners, there's the thrill of component matching and how long you'll be paying for it.

As a case study, I have a JVC QL-Y55F turntable, a Yamaha R-S300 receiver, which replaced a preamp/amp combo many years ago, feeding AR28 bookshelf speakers. The turntable and speakers I've had for 30 plus years. I spent real money on this stuff and as I've had them for that long speaks well of them. I have had to replace the cartridge on the turntable and both speakers have been reconed, but other than that, they still sound great... to my ears.

The point of this, as it has always been with audio, is what you hear is what you buy and what you buy, outside of budget, is subjective because, hopefully, you listened before you bought. And that is true of any media you listen to music through. I don't play heavy bass driven stuff through the AR28's because it beats the hell out of them; they're not built to move that much, but anything out of the classic period mentioned above sound great... to me.

And that's the whole point.

©2019 David William Pearce

The Masked SInger Asks a Serious Question

For anyone serious about their music, and isn't that thick with portend, shows like The Masked Singer ask the disturbing question: Should music be serious at all? In this instance, the answer is no, but few, if any, self-respecting musical people will be caught dead on this show.

But, their music might be. Is that bad, good; does it even matter? As noted in this review, it's doubtful Pete Townshend envisioned his song Who Are You? being used in so unserious a show as this. Then again, it's quite possible that most of the audience won't know who Pete Townshend is, and it gives Pete one more revenue stream that pays far more than streaming itself.

Who are you the show asks? Probably a B-list celebrity looking for a bump in "Oh yeah, I remember you, maybe", or a possible product endorsement future or the shocking denouement that there are B-list celebrities who can sing.

I assume.

I tried to watch, truly I did, for research obviously, but I confess I flamed out because I thought it was idiotic. I humbly apologize to those who found it better than that. And I freely admit to a certain snobbery when it comes to the performances I'll watch, but enough about me...

Well, a little more.

The question, assuming you're not Pete Townshend, is would you be up for having your song sung on TV by a B-list celebrity in some bizarre costume, for the purposes of possibly expanding your fan base. This assumes that there maybe songs sung that are not instantly recognizable, which is unlikely, which puts most of us less than well-known purveyors of music on the outside looking in.

It also assumes assumes the audience would be so taken by your song, assuming it was picked- though we all know if they do include a "new" song, it would be by someone a big label is pushing- that they would take the time and effort, think Shazam, to find out who wrote that song.

It's possible, just not probable, which makes my snobbery so much more potent!

I think...

©2019 David William Pearce

Photo by Magda Ehlers from Pexels

Strike Up the Band!

Photo by Vladislav Vasnetsov from Pexels

I got into music years ago, as a kid when I joined the band. Specifically, the school band. I played the trombone all throughout my school years, playing in every band they had: concert band, jazz band, pep band, the orchestra, and the marching band, to which I dedicated three years and many early mornings and sacred summer days-like the football team, we had to be ready when the season started.

As such, I am a fierce advocate for school bands and marching bands. To the point that I think they should the act during Superbowl halftime shows versus the overblown pap we're often subjected to. This is also true of your average college or pro game foisted upon the public on just about every day of the week: more bands at halftime; less talking heads pontificating on what we already know or don't care about.

This would do wonders for the bands themselves and music as a part of sports.

I thought of this recently, as I was watching the Harvest Festival parade in my hometown of Arvada, Colorado. It's exactly what it sounds like: a local parade filled with local people, including the schools in the area. All the high schools had marching bands and it was both fun and, at time, wistful, to see them.

They're not nearly as large as they once were. But, I suppose, that's to be expected. Less is put into the arts these days, which is a shame. Those of us from the 70's were incredibly fortunate, so much of that was supported and offered.

And without band, none of the music I make today or did for some many years would be possible. So much is infused subconsciously, so much absorbed and not noticed until years later. Yet it's there. 

I hear it so much more clearly now.

©2019 David William Pearce

Robot Pop and the End of Era of Pop Superstars

Photo by Alex Knight from Pexels

Recently, I've been reading Yuval Noah Harari's book, 21 Lessons for the Twenty-First Century.  

As pertains to this blog, music and the like, he points to the use of AI and algorithms to track and produce just the right kind of pop music-and perhaps any genre of music-that appeals to you and only you. It goes on to further the paradigm by noting that these computer programs will also create the entire dynamic of pop superstardom without any actual human superstars!

Lest you think that's bunk, spend a day listening to what pop music is today and note how much of it is the same derivative pap. Save the occasional producer who adds a "new" sound, the devolution of popular music is continuing at a steady pace. As such, how bad can AI produced pop music be compared to what's playing now?

In fact, because it can fine tune to your particular likes and dislikes, you personally will find what it plays for you to your liking. If this sound manipulative; it is, but no differently than what's being fed to you now.

For music producers, this will be a Godsend. For those who front the music, the performers, it may be the end of a long run for such entertainers. Sure, there will be some who make their mark, but if AI becomes so sophisticated that superstar avatars go along with the AI algorithm music, why would producers deal with petulant humans? Then there's the cost reduction: avatars aren't going to cost that much after they are produced and they won't age and won't have to be compensated throughout their holographic existence.

For the rest of us, who knows.

Mere humans will always sing and make music. Whether it has any monetary value... again, who knows? Recorded music is slowly being devalued; anyone gluming over their streaming payouts can attest to that.

But that capitalism; always has been, always will be. For the rest of us, the joy will still come from getting together and playing for one another.

See you there.

©2019 David William Pearce

How Much is Too Much?

I recently took the tour of the Taylor Guitar factory in San Diego. Naturally, being a musician and all, I had to play a number of the guitars they had in the store. It's like the candy store: you can't get enough until you're sick... or broke. Despite finding guitars that were very playable and had a great sound, I left empty handed. Some of this was my wife shaking her head at the thought of me blowing 4 grand on a guitar and some of it was "Don't you have enough guitars already?"

This question is often posed by the unbelievers or those with more sense.

In fact, I have 14 guitars, but I always note that they are all different and do different things rather than being a collection of say Gibson Les Pauls. That is, of course, disingenuous, but it's mine and I'm sticking with it.

But it is an interesting question: can you have too much? Which in this case means guitars. (We'll leave, for the moment, all the other musical and recording ephemera one can waste money on whether needed or not.)

The rational answer is yes, you can have too much.

Though 14 guitars is not actually that many and I wouldn't mind having many others, practically speaking, it would be impractical.

Why?

Because inevitably, you end up playing 1 or 2 guitars while the other collect dust. Even when recording and utilizing the different sounds each guitar provides, that doesn't mean it's played very often. I think of my 12-strings, which I rarely play and which I chide myself for not playing more! And, adding to that, what happens, as with my recent purchase of a jazz guitar (I know, right?), is that the guitar I had been playing the most, a Mexican Martin, is now doing time in a DADDAD tuning, which, oddly, has its perks: forcing me to write in that tuning, but I don't don't play it much of late.

And yes, having just bought a jazz guitar, which I didn't previously have, does it make sense to spend money on another acoustic, of which I have many?

According to my wife, the answer is "No!"

Not that I'm pinning this on her...

©2019 David William Pearce

For The Masses...

On the 8th of August, my merry band and I entertained the good folks at the Snohomish Farmers Market. It was a lot of fun.

Mostly, and for some this is distressing, we're background music, something to listen to while checking out the different stands at the market. Of course, people do look over as they pass by and many do stop for a moment or two to check out who exactly is making the music they're hearing.

Unlike a number of the other performers that play at the market throughout the year, we were playing all originals, no covers, and as we were obligated to play for 3 hours, that's mucho original. Not many artists have that much original material unless they've been writing and playing for many years. I have a lot of songs and it was fun to play a couple of long sets.

Because it was 3 hours, and because I've been meeting and playing with some fine local songwriters, I asked a couple to join the Fabulous Nancy K and me. Benny Lee and his daughter, Alexis, and Joy Taeko each played a set and we all mixed it up on a number of songs.

And I think the people at the market enjoyed the variety the 5 of us provided. The kids especially. There's something simply joyous in having a child stop in their tracks and watch, almost mesmerized by the players before them. That's why you go out and sing, why you put up with the loud cars passing by and the guy who thinks the best place to yack at his buddy is right in front of the performers.

Meh.

Other than that though, a great time, great atmosphere; worth every moment.

©2019 David William Pearce

Image and Brand

In order to be anybody, one must have an image and a brand, and everybody wants to be somebody.

This is especially important in those creative fields in which I dwell (in addition to music, I'm also an author of mysteries). I know this because it is reiterated in every article I read on how to be a success in the music biz, and we all want to be successful.

The only problem is I'm old, certainly by music standards, and I don't have a brash PR machine to get the word out. I've whined about the age thing so there's no use in going over that (jerks), but, as we all do, I still feel the need to play along.

We'll start with image, which obviously is how you project yourself to the world at large. Here are a few choices:

The first one obscures the fact that I'm no up and coming young dude. The second accepts that I'm a tad over the hill, but the fake hair makes me appear eternally youthful. Before you laugh at that, note that MANY rock gods from the 60's, 70's, and 80's all seem to have long luxurious hair even though we all know they don't, so no dismissing the wig. The third one, my favorite, is me when I was, in fact, young and good-looking. The only problem is that, like a dating app rendezvous, those who encounter me in real life will be disappointed.

Next.

The brand thing, for me, is fairly simple, here's my music, which I describe as beautiful sad songs that embrace pop, rock, and jazz traditions. Catchy, right?

Since everything depends on it, I've got to nail it.... Yeah, I thought the same thing.

Why is this important? Well, I have a new album coming out on July 26th, Winter:

Obviously, I'd like the world to hear it and love it and praise me and all the rest of that kind of thing and, as the articles advise, I've got to get it all together, man!

Wish me luck.

©2019 David William Pearce

It's Not Personal, It's Business...

The business of music reared its ugly head recently, when Taylor Swift decried the sale of her back catalog, over which she has no control.

Much has been made of her anger at Scooter Braun, who bought Swift's former label, and with whom she's feuded... and how the young and innocent are taken advantage of in their zeal to be famous and successful.

Note how I put that: famous and... (then) successful.

Famous means people know who you are; successful means you actually make a living at it long enough that it becomes a career. It is in this distinction that many fall by the wayside.

Any number of up and coming acts, both those promoted by the industry (labels) and those on their own (social media) become famous. Whether they achieve success is rarely brought up and only after the fact of becoming well-known and generally in the context of "Whatever happened to?" The music business, certainly for performers, is the graveyard of dreams. Far more are famous than successful. I know that sounds harsh, and to some, defeatist, to which I say: good for you.

I'm comfortably in the "I'm doing it my way" group, and am not terribly concerned whether I become famous or not. That also means I've accepted that I will not be successful based on my own criteria. Again, I'm okay with that.

Because...

If there is one thing that can be counted on it's that those who seek to be famous, and hopefully successful, must start early. Beyond your mid-twenties, you're toast. Yes, there are those very rare performers like Susan Boyle, but she was something of an anomaly and while we're on the subject, name the many middle-aged successes in the biz since?

Take your time...

This is the only business; okay, maybe acting, with so strong an age bias because we've universally accepted that all of our musical canon is developed when young and after a certain age we do not form new musical patterns of listening. This is both right and wrong. It's right because in our youth we have the time to seek out and listen, and wrong because as the business of music is predicated on creating new acts for the young and recycling the "classics" for older generations, new music made by anyone older than 25 isn't played. In fact, even many very well-known musicians continually produce new music that never makes the new music rounds and is almost never played in concert.

Example A: Paul McCartney rarely plays ANYTHING he's recorded after the mid-80's, and yet he's continued to write and record. Can you name a single song from his last album? (Hint, the album was Kisses on the Bottom.) And that's not a knock on Paul; it's the way it is.

As for Taylor Swift and her anger at who now controls her back catalog; that too is a common music biz complaint. It is the source of success! Whether she was taken advantage of; she was 15 when she signed her first contract, is something I'll let you, dear reader, determine for yourselves, but the biz was like that long before Taylor, and will continue to be long after her.

On the plus side, Ms. Swift is both famous and successful.

©2019 David William Pearce

The Making of an Album...

If you read enough trade magazines and online articles concerning how albums come together, two basic patterns emerge: either the songs are fleshed out and ready, or there are a lot of ideas, or riffs, or hooks, but no complete songs so the band gets together and sees what come of it.
Then there’s the process. Is the album a creation made over time, or cobbled together over a short period, say a few days or weeks?

I bring this up because every week; I read that the album is dead or hold on a minute; the album is not dead.

No, the album isn’t dead, because artists continue to release them. There is the “Pop” culture trend that stresses that artists drib-drab of series of singles or EP’s-an ironic term since it is tied to records, which just about no one other than vinyl affectionados listens to-in order to maintain the attention of a generally inattentive public.

The rest of us marshal on.

Albums, or LP’s (long playing), have generally fallen into 2 categories, themed or concept-think Pink Floyd’s The Wall, or a collection of songs like Taylor Swift’s Reputation. 

What interests me is how albums come into being. For the most part, the artists and bands I like have put a premium of song creation. Artists like Steely Dan and Peter Gabriel tended to work on songs until they were finished and enough were done to construct an album. This only really works if the songwriter is running the show and isn’t under any kind of time restraints, and generally few people write the songs versus a committee.
Band albums, where the members of the band bring in ideas, riffs, tend to be hit or miss, meaning some albums are great and others are maybe one standout song and what was euphemistically called “filler”. Prime examples are Bad Company’s first album, Bad Company, where everything worked, and their album, Burning Sky... not so much. Some of this is a product of expectations, a lack of time to really work out ideas, and that most infamous of band distractions, burnout. Believe it or not, not all bands love each other. And sometimes that shows in the rancor that follows the album. Take the Police’s last album, Synchronicity, which was a struggle to finish and yet was their best seller!

Fortunately, as I am not particularly famous, I can work on songs at my own pace and construct the album over that time. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. I’ve had songs fall like rain and then go through long dry periods where nothing gets finished, but then I wasn’t on any timetable, so....

On the plus side, the albums I started I finished.

Too Much of a Good Thing?

On July 26th, I'll be releasing Winter, a new album of songs I wrote in 1983/84, but didn't finish-they were demos, and at the time I thought it would make a good band album, but that never materialized. So they sat.

That story is here.

Winter is the 9th album release since November of 2015, when I released Apologia. That's 85 songs in 3 and a half years. That's a lot.

And no, that's not necessarily so I can pat myself on the back; it's so they can be out there. For if they are not out there, then they don't exist, and neither do I. That may sound rather dark or flippant, but in truth, if what you create goes no further than your couch or an open mic or two, who's going to know? Who's going to care? And if at some indeterminate point in the future someone wants to hear or read it, where do they go?

Part of the modern conundrum with digitization, and the sea of material out there, is you're going to drown, be lost, or as some would game it, be no more important than a grain of sand. But even a grain of sand is something tangible, is something that can be held and examined and possibly explained.

For me, there is no reason not to release this music. The industry, the labels, are not dependent or interested me; I am of no consequence to them: they can't sell me, I am too old. I see no point in the trail of breadcrumbs approach that is the vogue these days, a tease to keep people tuned in and turned on. I am not the next big thing, nor restless in capturing the ever roving eye of an amorphous public.

As a songwriter, as a recording artist, this is my art, my statement if you will, so as songs and albums are completed, I foist them onto an unsuspecting public.

Now, given all the pitches I've received, I'm well aware that I'm not doing it the right way, not building my email list, or engaging my fans by doing this, which I don't agree with, but I haven't been following industry norms since the beginning simply because it hasn't been that important to me-the music is what I care about and if it is available then it can be found by those who want to hear it.

Simple as that.

And yes, I'm that guy.

©2019 David William Pearce

Review: Sting My Songs

I don't often do reviews, but there are interestings questions being asked by Sting's latest album release, and as an artist whose purpose in life, maybe, is to leave behind a recorded history of my songs, I think those questions are relevant.

Simply, Sting My Songs, is an album of his well-known songs redone... but not re-imagined in the sense that he approaches them differently; there are no heavy metal versions or classical versions. The songs sound remarkably familiar with much of the same orchestration. The differences lay chiefly in the tone, occasionally beat--he seems forever trying to find the right groove for If You Love Somebody Set Them Free--and most notably, production.

The song list is made up of his most popular, stretching from the Police to the present. All in all, it's a nice set of songs Sting fans know and love, fine tuned but not too much, so the opportunity for disgruntlement is low.

The first question is why do this?

As is pointed out here, mostly to appeal to a younger audience more attuned to streaming and that hip pop sound that is too loud and overcompressed. That leads to the question of why bother since anyone, regardless of age, if interested, will want to hear the original rather than a rehash. And imagine the sonic landscape if every artist decided to reimagine and re-record the popular songs from their catalogue.

THE big change in the songs is in their production. The arrangements stick, for the most part, to the original, but add more "modern" sounds that weren't available when the songs were first recorded. I don't have a problem with that: do what you like. But the production values are what are most jarring when listening and having the originals bouncing around in your head. Personally, I don't care for the mixes and the compression. One of the things that Sting is known for is leaving room in his recordings so all the instruments are heard, and there are moments of quiet, which I think is important to songs like Fragile and Shape of My Heart.

There is also, I suppose, the notion that some songs, I'm thinking Police songs, were recorded in ways that rankled Sting, and now he can have a version more in line with what he wanted. Fair enough, but again, if you're interested in the Police, wouldn't you want to hear them as they did them. They were a band after all.

As for me, turning inward, would I re-record some of my old stuff? I have, but that was due to an inferior recording. The only problem with re-recording what was originally recorded on the 244 Portastudio is it would merely be a latter day reproduction and I don't know that I could add anything emotionally that isn't already there. And since they're good recording, given their inherent limitations, I see no reason to redo them.

Plus, unlike with Sting, there's no market for them.

On the whole, it's a good album-how can it not be with these songs-and once you attune your ear to the production changes, quite enjoyable. I won't replace the original copies I have-I'm quirky that way-but that's just me.

©2019 David William Pearce

Time and Tide-Chicago

There are, for all of us, iconic bands or groups that, for whatever reason, stick with us for the rest of our lives. For me Chicago is one of those bands.
Why?
Because they had a trombone player. Because, at the time, I was learning to play the trombone, silly as that sounds. Here was a band playing socially conscious rock with a swing/jazz feel to it.
It's been 50 years since the first Chicago album came out, as yes, I know that dates me, but we all grow old.
I started thinking about all of this after watching their biopic on Netflix. There was the usual about the road travelled, the changes in personnel, from the death of Terry Kath, to Peter Cetera leaving, and the subsequent squabbles, which to me seemed childish, but I wasn't there, etc.
And, most importantly, there's all that music. If nothing else, the band Chicago was prolific. This isn't old dudes reminiscing about the 5 albums they did in the 60's and 70's. And while I don't mind the ballad period of the mid-70's, or the 80's for that matter, I am a child of their early records, Chicago Transit Authority, and Chicago II and III. That is the period that I like the most because it was the most inventive and the most expansive.
They were riding the first wave of their popularity, when they could do what they wanted because other bands were and the records were selling. I don't think any other band put out their first 3 albums as double-albums. The albums had straight ahead rock, jazz rock, pop, classical, and some stuff that was just there, like Terry Kath burning up 7 minutes in Free Form Guitar; a compendium of distortion, fuzz, and whammy bar channeled through an amp. Weirdly, it's not terrible.
Most of all, there was the horn section, including the trombone, which was not an afterthought, or a little background filler. They played and played and man, I dug it.
Perhaps, more interestingly, it still sounds tight, hip, and fun. Sure, some of it wears it age like love beads and those leather vests with fringe and embroidery, but musically it has retained its authenticity as music even if it didn't change the world.
But then, nobody does...
©2019 David William Pearce

How to be a Hitmaker in Three Easy Steps... Maybe...

When Seeking advice at confabs like the ASCAP Expo which concluded recently, the conversations inevitably cover seemingly straight forward advice such as "be yourself", "don't write to the market", "have your own sound", etc. And the articles generated, usually covering those who have made it in the biz, expound on what it takes to write a hit, and the hard work, and the hope that perseverance will win out the day, at some point, and you'll be all the wiser, and so on...

And while there is interesting stuff here, some of it celebrity based, and some of it industry related. what is almost never stated out loud is how important it is to have a big-assed label pushing your song, which means being heard above all the other voices out there.

That's a big deal, if you're dreaming of being, or writing for, the star.

Often, some of this is happenstance- you meet the right person, talent, at the right time, and you have the time to develop a relationship that will get you in the door, on the lips of the people looking for talent, and doing enough work to be heard by enough of the right, i.e. connected people to give you a chance to be successful, which can mean anything from that's my song on the radio, streaming platform, to I'm on so-and-so's writing team.

Assuming so-and-so is known and has the power of a big label to get the word out, to grab the ears of the managers programing the playlists, and on and on.

Yes, you've made it!

But then... you have to be productive. One song ain't going to do it. The machine needs more and more and you have to produce.

Now you may assume that I'm rather jaded when it comes to these things, but that's not true. I would never tell someone not to try, or go for it, or anything like that, but everyone who's made it or hasn't, knows this song and dance. It's how the business works. There's no easy way in, and yes, I'm including the people who explode out of YouTube, or some social media outlet. Instant fame can also instantly flame out. Finding yourself on TMZ doesn't mean you'll be anything tomorrow.

Here's all the advice you'll ever need:
Keep your eyes and ears open, make as many connections as you can, and never sign anything before you consult an attorney who knows the music business!

That's all it takes.
©2019 David William Pearce

To Swear or not to Swear

It's impossible to listen to new music, certain rap/hip-hop, but also pop, without hearing what was once referred to as foul or vulgar language. Certainly with Rap, it seems to be a part of the landscape, and obviously, that's a bit of a generalization, but most of what I hear has its fair share of F-bombs and the like.

I assume, this has been a means to shock, give it its own identity, and to separate it from other more tame genres. F-bomb love songs, anyone?

Still...

One of the reasons profanity was little tolerated in yonder olden days was the idea that it coarsened social norms and was bad manners which an enlightened type did not engage in. Like tattoos.

But like tattoos, profanity is, for the most part, accepted as a norm in general conversation, and like tattoos, is no longer particularly shocking. That doesn't mean it doesn't coarsen the general mood; I think it does, and perversely, without the ability of profanity to shock, what then is its purpose?

As far as music goes, I'm a less is better type. If you want to genuinely use the words to amplify the anger, because that's what they were created to do, then do so with care and within limits (I f**king love you just doesn't sound as loving with the F-bomb, does it?). That and it kicks you into the whole "explicit" category when it comes to marketing and I like to think the few people who listen to me do so for reasons having nothing to do with a propensity for profanity.

Which is a fancy way of saying I don't care for it.

Which is saying something coming from a former sailor who could spew quite a blue streak, but time and place.

Same with lyrics.

©2019 David William Pearce

What's Next... With What's New...

I'm patting myself on the back for finishing Winter, the album I've been working on for the last year or so.
That's all well and good, but you can't just sit back and rest on your laurels, right? There's doings a transpiring!
It's what those doings are that might, or might not, keep one up at night.

However, in my case, what's keeping me up at night is the irrational fear of the "new", even though the "new" is simply an upgrade of what I already have.

I probably need to explain that.

This is where my recording life began. This is the Tascam 244 Portastudio, a 4-track cassette recorder.

It was pretty basic and fairly easy to use once you got it figured out. Unlike today's Portastudios (I'd say modern, but it's only been 30 years, which dates me, but hopefully, not that much), the 244 had no built-in effects and all the inherent limitations of cassette tape. It did have Dolby noise reduction. Consequently, I had to buy my own outboard gear for things like reverb, chorus, flange; stuff like that.
And I made a lot of recordings, 8 albums worth. But like all things analog and tape derived, it ran out of gas. As this coincided with my running out of musical ideas and the presence of children, I put it away and took a break.

The break lasted 25 years. So when I got back into recording, I got what was the latest iteration of the Portastudio, the 2488neo.

This what I've been using for the past 5 years, though I've had it 10, but That's another story.

It's worked really well, but with all things computerish that contain mechanical devices, which in this case includes the hard-drives and the CD player/recorder, 10 years is a long time and ominous signs like noise and noticeable heat coming off the machine are not good indicators of many more productive years. Consequently, I decided to buy a new one: the DP-32sd Portastudio

Now a fair number of you may be wondering why I didn't just go all computer, with Pro Tools, or something similar?
Excellent question!
2 reasons: I'm cheap and I'm lazy.
I'll explain.
If I went to a straight up computer system, I'd need the computer, the software, the monitor, the interfaces, and probably, because I'm a tactile kind of guy-musically speaking-a mixer. That a lot of money, a couple grand easy. And, you have the learning curve that goes with migrating to the new system.
At least with the Portastudio, I know what I'm getting into, and, hopefully, learning what they've changed in 10 years won't be too bad. Plus, at $600, and given everything it does, that's a steal, a total bargain.

Now I just have to get off my dead butt and get to it.

Maybe tomorrow.
©2019 David William Pearce

What About Michael Jackson?

Like just about everyone my age, I knew of and listened to Michael Jackson, both as a member of the Jackson 5 and as a solo performer. I grew up with him as we were about the same age. I learned and became good at falsetto by trying to sing along with him on the radio. I liked his songs, for the most part, and had a minor fascination with how mega-fame basically destroyed him. Not actually knowing him makes that last statement a matter of conjecture.

With the latest allegations swirling around him, as they had with Bill Cosby, Louie CK, and the excesses of rock throughout its history, but mostly the 60's through the 90's, the question-and the demand from some-is whether to stop listening to his creative output.

Some of this is how twisted and tight a knot you wish to put yourself in. The other is that while there are those who will disavow and those who will demand total renunciation of him, there are those who will not-and most of this will be played out for our entertainment/schadenfreude by the people who did know and worked with Michael Jackson.

Whether I continue to listen to Thriller or Off The Wall, the only albums of his I own, is up to me.

I don't know that the value of the songs or the albums is necessarily harmed by the allegations. I say that for two reasons, one they weren't meant, as far as I know, to be a part of Jackson's alleged actions with children, and two, the man is dead. This matters far more than most are willing to concede.

For his family and his legacy, it's a very big deal, perhaps to the point of his having nothing left beyond the allegations, but for the rest of us, especially those of us who grew up with the music, I think it's more nuanced. The music is what I was drawn to, as it was with all the people I've listened to over the years, and with a few exceptions, I don't personally know any of them. So whatever behavior they're acclaimed or criticised for, has always come to me through the filter of the media and all the entities that inform it. If Jackson's attraction to boys is there in the music, I don't hear it.

I won't deny that I thought his transformations after Thriller were odd, but again, I wasn't privy to any of it other than what I saw and heard through the media. I thought the subsequent albums and songs were good, but I didn't think they were any better than Thriller and Off The Wall.

The bigger question is whether it makes me a bad person or complicite is his actions simply because I liked a couple of his albums, and for the record, I thought Off The Wall was better than Thriller over all. I don't see how it could. I already own the albums, and even if I replaced them, Jackson himself would not personally profit. Nor do I see how that denotes anything other than I liked his music. Too often we internalize that which we actually have no control over. If Jackson was indeed a pedophile, the onus of that falls on him and the people who knew rather than the casual fan or even the fanatical who other than through his music or merchandize had nothing to do with him.

Whether I still listen to Billie Jean isn't and won't be a tacit acceptance by me of Jackson's personal behavior; it just means I like the song.

©2019 David William Pearce