Bringing Back the Mists of Time

After a year of work, The album, Winter, is finished.

The album has been something of a labor of love even though it took me 35 years to get it done. That, of course, is misleading: it took me 34 years to start.

Which isn't technically accurate either.

After PearceArrow, and Broken Hearts and the Fabulous Perch, I wrote two albums worth of music, which became Desperate Mothers, and Winter. Having worked with Brian Waters, who was a good friend, and who had produced PearceArrow, and Broken Hearts, I thought we would get together to record these songs, but it never happened.
Brian has his own projects and was trying to find work as a full time recording engineer; I was getting into my own DIY production and was more demanding of what I wanted, and the people I had played with before had other projects and bands as well, or had moved to more music-centric locations like LA, Austin, or Nashville. Denver wasn't thought of as a hopping hotbed of music, though there were many talented performers at that time, such as Jill Sobule and Bruce Odland.

When I wrote the songs, I had just started using my Tascam 244 4-track cassette recorder and Winter was the first time I put together a true demo, with drums and bass to go along with the guitars and vocals. But I didn't have decent outboard gear and used a Fender amp to record with as it had reverb. And it sounds exactly as you might imagine: good enough to play for others, but certainly not for release.
As I got better mics and gear, I went back and recorded the songs of Desperate Mothers and continued on with new music, such as Ice Flows, Life Without Chickens, and Apologia.
Winter got left behind, and remained, in some ways forgotten.

Part of the problem was that in the mid-80's, I didn't have the studio to record them as I heard them in my head. The Winter songs were more Jazz based and I wanted them to be more lush; more like Steely Dan records, which had inspired the songs at the time they were written. And as time passed, I focused on more of a lean sound for the new songs I was writing.

Winter, was just an old cassette of songs at the bottom of the box of old cassette demos I would every blue moon take out and play.

So what happened?

Last year, after I finished Whispers (From a Forgotten Memory), I thought it might be time to go back to the Winter songs. I had 24 tracks to work with and real drums and keyboards, and most importantly, I could do all the harmony and backing vocals I couldn't do with  the 4-track. It took a while with all the other projects and new music I was working on, but I kept at it and now have a recorded version of Winter that I think is very good and that I want to release.

That will be in June 2019.

In the meantime, I'll be featuring the songs each week at mrprimitivemusic.com.

©2019 David William Pearce

How do I play that again?

There's an assumption that you can remember everything you've ever done and can recall it on cue.

Sadly, I've found, this isn't true.

Case in point, there are songs I've written and recorded that I don't remember how to play. That doesn't mean I can't go back and figure out what I was doing, because I've had to do just that, but it's kind of depressing nonetheless.

I should be able to effortlessly pick up a guitar and just start playing whatever tune I want.

This sad state of affairs has coma about as I've begun to perform more and have this impish desire to play more of my back catalogue. There are certain restraints however. The most notable is most of the songs were not written or recording to be performed troubadour style, or perhaps more accurately, singer-songwriters style with just me and a guitar, although in truth, the delightful Nancy K often accompanies me.

As a result, I've hit upon the idea of recording backing tracks to play and sing along with. Think Karaoke except using my own songs. It also gives me an opportunity to show off my unique, to my mind, lead guitar techniques. For the most part, this has gone well, and with the new songs I've written over the last 4 or 5 years, I simply create a backing track after I record the song in its totality.

It's the older stuff that, on occasion, gives me fits.

Why?

Well... if I'm honest, and really, who wants that, that fact is I did a really poor job in writing down important things like chord progressions, track lists; actually, other than the lyrics, I didn't write anything down, and once the song was complete, I simply moved on to the next song. I blame Steely Dan-certainly in their 70's iteration when they gave up touring for the studio.

Consequently, I'm forced to play along and try to figure out what the hell I was doing all those years ago. It's embarrassing. I should know this stuff!

Sadly, as I've said, I don't.

So let this be a lesson to all your wippersnappers out there: document what you're doing or suffer my fate.

Which reminds me, I should write some of the new stuff down...

©2019 David William Pearce

Photo by Stas Knop from Pexels

How to be a Great Lyricist in 3 Easy Steps

Over the course of many years, I have written and recorded more than a hundred songs and until I came across an article in Writers Digest on how to write lyrics, I can't say that I ever actually gave the process any thought.

So I thought about it.

My basic process is I come up with some music and it, at some point depending on whether there's any deadline, which there generally isn't, inspires a theme, which I write the lyrics to. The lyrical structure, how many verses, choruses, and bridges, in dependant on the musical structure. I have a thing with threes, and there's usually a chorus, and maybe a bridge depending on whether the song is more jazz oriented than pop or rock.

I then break the theme into a few sections, come up with something I think is appropriately inspiring or moving or pithy and call it good. Which is more or less what the article advances.

My questions arise when I think about whether it's good or bad to to block out-by block I mean as in building blocks-lyrics? The blocks are just stand-ins for what and where they are in the song, be it verse, chorus, etc. The author maintains this allows structure for creating witty or deep or whatever type of lyric you're writing. I tend to think it leads to a sameness across your lyrics and songs, especially if the lyrics come first, the songs must be structured to fit the lyrics, and if they don't, but you depend on lyrical structure, then your songs will all structurally be the same.

Which is apparently saying the same thing.

Ironically, if you're writing, or trying to write, modern pop songs, the lyrics, more and more, are being reduced to mere hooks repeated ad nauseum throughout the song, so other than to keep people from hopping from song to song, the lyrics aren't that important.

Therefore this really only applies if you're writing to be listened to on a deeper level.

Having done my own thing all these years, I'll continue to stick with it, but, like with the musical composition itself, it's nice to know there are templates out there to get you organized.

©2019 David William Pearce

Crap! When You Realize That All That Work Has to be Redone

There is the joy of anticipation and the joy of having finished a song.

Mostly.

There are, thankfully rare, those times when upon completion, or more often, well into the project, when you realize that something is not right in the state of Denver and no amount of fiddling and re-recording of parts will make it better, and as you're on all fours, pounding the floor, you ask yourself:

Well? How did I get here?

And the answer is that you weren't paying attention because if you were, you'd have noticed that the meter was all over the place. And there's no way to fix that (There may be with those who intimately know how to slice and dice digital files, but I ain't that guy!).

That means... delete, and start over.  Rats! Although I didn't use that word.

While drinking heavily and whining that you don't want to re-record all the parts you just finished recording, there is the silver-lining, in my case, that I haven't just wasted a lot of money and time in someone's studio. No, in my case with my own studio, I merely wasted a lot of my time. One would hope that in a studio where you're paying, the engineer would politely tell you you're all over the place, or advise you to fire the drummer.

In my case, it's hard to fire yourself.

On the plus side, because there's no other good way to look at this, you wonder if maybe you should try it a different way, and if you're lucky, something wonderful comes up. Sometimes.

Sometimes you simply sigh heavily and re-record.

And yes, I'm telling you this because it just happened to me and I feel the need to share.
On the plus side, the re-record is not all over the place. I just wish I had the previous 8 hours back.

©2019 David William Pearce

I'm Available For Super Bowl Whatever Next Year's Is

Apparently, and I base this on the various and sundry reviews of the event, the halftime show at Super Bowl LIII was less than stellar. This is very disappointing. Most of this has been laid at the feet of Maroon 5 and its lead singer, Adam Levine. One would think, given his stature on The Voice that he would not need the publicity, after all the performers aren't paid; it's the biggest stage for the scam known generally as "the exposure is more important than actual income".

Most of the criticism centers on the fact that the show was bland and inoffensive and, given that the game was in Atlanta, did not take advantage or showcase the Hip-Hop/Rap talent the city is well known for, but is the NFL really brave enough to expose older white America to that? I think not. It would be akin to having Hendrix do the national anthem at the game 50 years ago. Raving would certainly ensue, and not the good kind although the kids would really dig it, man!

In light of that, I here forthwith make it known that I, Mr Primitive, will happily headline the halftime show at next year's Super Bowl, whether it is a dud like this year's or not.

Some of you may ask, why Dave?

Well, to begin with, I too can be bland and inoffensive, and because I'm not so overexposed in the rotation of pablum that sometimes passes for exciting hip new music, people will sort of listen while waiting for the next interesting or provocative commercial (I mean really, why do most people watch the game to begin with? Their teams aren't playing!) rather than sit back comfortably knowing they've heard this song a thousand times whether on the radio or on a Spotify list playing music they know and are comfortable with.

Secondly, because I'm not particularly well known, someone with top notch choreography talent can devise a heart stopping visual extravaganza to go along with my haunting introspective songs of love and loss. It's a sure winner and it'll give the audience something to look at rather than my unknown face, although after the firestorm the NFL will surely endure after once again bypassing fresh young talent for a middle-aged white guy who wasn't even famous in the 60's, 70's, 80's, or 90's, it should be fairly recognizable at that point.

That leads to...

Thirdly, the exposure thing would actually work in my case. Although they probably wouldn't give out the raw statistics, I'd be curious to know what kind of bump Maroon 5 actually got from their appearance headlining the halftime show. It's probably, one would hope, bigger than the one I'm going to get following this column.

All in all, a winner all around.

Of course, they could go back to a traditional halftime show featuring marching bands and the team's cheerleaders, but that might make people long for a time when the American game was simpler, more pure, more...

Nah.

©2019 David William Pearce

Whither Now, Zeppelin?

Led Zeppelin's history, like much of the past, is now fodder for re-examination by those filled with unease because they love the music but are offended by the behavior of the time. The irony is that the music itself, the reason the band is even known certainly more so that any shenanigans they got into or boorish behavior they engaged in, is almost never discussed.

Stereo Williams, in his DailyBeast article, notes the stories that are part of Zeppelin's lore concerning bacchanalia, groupies, and their noted nicking of other people's music. None of this is new. Nor I suppose is the righteous indignation that is heaped upon those of us who were actually alive at that time by those who were not.

Sorry, but if I'm supposed to feel bad, it's not working..

I won't argue that during the 60's and 70's a certain attitude prevailed within the rock 'n roll community concerning sex and drugs. Nor would I dismiss accusations that it was male dominated and that misogyny played a role in the attitudes that some had towards women. Should they have had sex with 14 year olds? No. And I won't dignify the argument that the boys in the band thought the girls looked older or that booze and drugs addled their judgement; they knew what they were doing. And believe it or not, so did most of the groupies. As the woman in the article admitted, she didn't think she was abused, though she thinks, in hindsight, that it probably wasn't a smart thing to do.

And it wasn't as if what was going on wasn't known about, it was. I know people now hate to hear this, but it was cool back then and a lot of people wanted in on it.

That doesn't make it right, of course, but it's always easy to judge at a distance...

As far as Page and Zeppelin using other people's music without accreditation, unless sued, I won't try to justify that either. Whether it was cultural appropriation depends on how you view legacies and the sharing of music, but to me, the problem, and I get it, is that a good number of people will think Zeppelin created their songs whole and won't have any inkling of the song's history or who originally performed them and more often than not, it was by black performers, who have largely gone unsung, though the British rock stars most noted for it, from Clapton to Richards and Page, have acknowledged their love of American blues, R&B, etc.

The difference, of course, is that Zeppelin and the others made a fortune with the music whereas the black performers did not. I'd be put out too. If someone makes a fortune off your song, then you should get a piece of the pie. Hence the need to sue. Page, for his part has been more than willing to obfuscate the obvious, almost to absurdity. It's ok to own up, dude.

My biggest problem with a lot of these "how shocking" pieces is that it's easy to bad-mouth people you don't know and times you didn't live through (though I think a great many, in their heart of hearts, would love to see what it was really like, though they'd be loathe to admit it). This assumes that these terrible things no longer take place, to which I would say BS. It's human nature. Given the opportunity, sad to say, people will drink and drug and f**k themselves to death. The opioid crisis is the latest iteration of our self-destructive tendencies. The other assumption is that because we're now aware or woke, we can easily condemn those who were not. The real work, however, is making the world better, in real tangible terms, not just an awareness that it should be. Talk and self-congratulation is just that.

Inevitably, this always circles back to the art; in the case of Zeppelin, to the music. The art endures, and that's the problem for some. It's also easy to bad-mouth the dead, because they can't call you on it from the grave. If you abhor their behavior in life, then don't follow their example. In 20 years, it's probable that there will be no living members of Zeppelin left. All that will survive is their music. At that point and beyond, it's whether it says something to you, and if you base your opinion on the artist's life and behavior, then you do, but most people won't take a lot of time exploring the past. If the art moves them, whatever the artists flaws, then the art endures. History is replete with artists, in all realms; music, literature, painting, whose behavior I wouldn't condone, but if the art endures, it is because it speaks to something that moves us, that moves beyond the actions of who created it.

©2019 David William Pearce

Art For Art's Sake

There are, at times, bizarre arguments about the merits of art, in whatever endeavor, that revolve around what constitutes legitimacy. In music it's making it, which can mean almost anything, although mostly it consists of getting a record deal and making money. That pursuit doesn't always pan out, in fact in most cases it does not, but for those of us who were either disinterested in that pursuit or appalled by how artists are often treated, never mind the artist's own lack of awareness of how the biz works, it held no great sway.

Closer to home is the question of whether you're serious or merely playing music as an extracurricular activity, akin to, let's say, quilting.

Leave aside the insult to quilters,who are artists in their own right, and ask what is decisive in authenticating an artistic vocation versus just being labelled a hobbyist. Often this is promoted by the frustrated. The biz is tough and it's more interested in marketability than artistic expression. And this inevitably rears its head for those whose talents gets them very close, but not quite, to the cusp of "Making it." Then it's what are you willing to change or sacrifice to really make it? But most never get close.

Is making the art, in this case songs, more or less important than being able to sell and make money from them? If you're a singer-songwriter, which is more important: Being a singer or writing songs? Those who write to, and for, the biz and those who want to be a part of it, always state that the songs have to come first. If you're a songwriter, you've got to have songs, good songs, interesting songs, even gimmicky songs to get a foot in the door. That takes time, that takes energy and desire, and is often the hardest thing to do, but when you've finished it and are ready to lay on the people, then what?

That takes a lot of work too.

It also means that at some point you're going to have to be real about how far you can go with it. If you write and play songs, you're an artist, whether at an open mic, for friends, at house concerts, bars, or the promised land of music venues. Some see more authenticity in playing bars and coffee houses, whether the audience is paying attention or not, than at open mics or songwriter get-togethers, but this misses the point.

Art is inevitably a personal journey, a personal expression whatever the medium. The tried and true dictum that making what you think will be popular with others, but not yourself, will leave you unfulfilled is accurate. Creating on spec isn't the same. It may utilize the same talents, and for a rare few, John Williams, the composer as an example, they may be one and the same, but that does not mean that Mr. Williams may not have any affinity for a particular soundtrack composed beyond that it met the needs of the filmmakers. 

Obviously, most artists would love to make a living through their craft. So would I, but whether or not I can monetize my art to produce a living wage does not in and of itself determine whether the art has any value or is worth the effort of its creation. If I'm content to go no further than a few open mics to share my music to the world, that ought to be enough. Whatever another artist wishes to do is up to them, but it doesn't ipso facto relegate those who don't to the status of hobbyist.

©2019 David William Pearce