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