Don't Draw Conclusions About A Person Simply From Reading A New York Times Article About Them. Read Something They Wrote Themselves.

This was an interesting article, shared without comment by a musician friend.

Defining and Demanding a Musician’s Fair Shake in the Internet Age

Now I am a songwriter and musician (please imagine Star Jones parody voice), but oddly enough my main initial reaction to David Lowery, the protagonist of this article, went something like this: Boo-freaking-hoo.

In 2012 he only made $440 in songwriter royalties from his 1985 debut album while back in 2002 he had made $1,147. To suggest that, thus, the system is broken, struck me as ridiculous. I was all set to blog about how writing a song has zero inherent monetary value. It's the promoters - the people who mesmerize journalists and other strangers into believing your song has value - who really earn the money. You made deals with multi-national corporations to record, release, and promote your music to the point where it gets a million plays on Pandora and now those corporations aren't giving you enough money? Again I thought, boo-freaking-hoo. You're actually impossibly lucky to have gotten as far as you have. Get some perspective. Get a real job.

The music business is the system by which the vast number of people who would not inherently care about music (hereafter referred to as Z for Zombies) are all but forced to care about music by people who forcefully shove that music down their throats (hereafter referred to as F for Feeders). The F can not create the product and thus require people who care deeply about music and create it themselves (hereafter referred to as B for Brains). Sometimes a young, naive, excited B, full of love for their craft (think 1962 Bob Dylan), makes a deal with a hardworking, highly skilled F (think Albert Grossman), to get their music to Z. Later B is sad to learn that F expected to receive money for getting B the attention of Z. "It's all because of my genius that Z loves me!" thinks B, deluded. B sues F, etc.

However!

Then I read David Lowery's original blog post and most of the indignant wind went out of my sails like Roseanne Roseannadanna.

My Song Got Played On Pandora 1 Million Times and All I Got Was $16.89, Less Than What I Make From a Single T-Shirt Sale!

Now I get it. Songwriters can't negotiate a rate with Pandora. The government sets that rate. That is unfair. Agreed. Nevermind.

Am I even going to post this? What would be the point? I guess the point would be don't draw conclusions about a person simply from reading a New York Times article about them. Read something they wrote themselves.

Which I knew already, having been myself the subject of 3 (three!) newspaper articles, all mildly or wildly inaccurate, over my twenty-four years in (actually mostly out) of the music business. Anyway, I woke up an hour early today with no hope of going back to sleep, thus blog post. Enjoy. Could have written a song, I guess, but what would be the point? I don't have an F and wish to avoid the attentions of Z.

Modern Things. Bah!

I recently watched this video.

It's fine, right? No problem. It does the job it's supposed to do, which is keep a baby's attention and teach them some signs. For me personally, though, after about as many seconds as I am years old, I started trying to figure out whether the sound of the waves synced up with the actual waves because it doesn't seem like that pristine audio could possibly have been recorded on a windy beach. The rigid, repetitive, perfect sameness of the whole thing started driving me nuts. See what I mean?

Now I'm no audio engineer, but I am pretty sure she's lip syncing. She's doing it really well, which made me think there was probably a click track playing over speakers with the vocal when they shot the video at the beach. So what a baby is actually watching is a person lip syncing to a click track, probably some keyboards, and the vocal, all pre-recorded. An impossible illusion.

Later on, in post-production, my guess is they took out the sounds of everything except the vocal. Then they added in some quiet background waves. Well, fine, we just want the best end product, right? Just using modern tools. Nothing wrong with that, right?

Except that everything new is like this now. Everything is this digitally enhanced illusion of perfection. Long before this particular video was even over, I started thinking what it would look like if it had been taped for Sesame Street in 1974.

Susan's hair would be blowing around, her pitch would be wavering. She might crack up a little bit. You would hear the actual waves as they broke. She would be singing loud to be heard over the wind and those waves. It would be a real, one-of-a-kind, human performance. Factors beyond the control of the producers would have an impact on the final product. Watching her, you would think it was something you could do yourself. You would be right.

But back to 2013 (sigh). Every professional piece of video and audio that young people watch and hear now has this layer of digital illusion built in. They grow up in an acid bath of impossible, inhuman, auto-tuned perfection. And anything that hasn't been perfected by auto-tune is ridiculed. You're Star Wars Kid. You're William Hung. Ha Ha!

I wonder what cumulative impact this has on younger, more impressionable people than myself. Might they think, "Oh, I could never sing like that."? Because if they did think that, they would be right. But what if they stop trying?

The Two Bruce Springsteens

In the early '70s there was this skinny guy who wrote these epic story songs about really fantastic characters. You never knew where the songs would go or which of his huge, wild band was going to play the next solo. They blasted out of your stereo speakers and played long, unpredictable jams in concert.

From 1979 until now there's been this guy who writes these wordy folk songs about people who seem all too real. They're mostly people struggling in hard economic times or broken relationships or both. Once in a while they are happy. They're just like you and me. There's a highly predictable verse, chorus, verse, chorus, solo or bridge, verse, chorus structure.

Since summer 2011 I have had a CD player in my car. What I've been doing is putting one CD in and leaving it for weeks, really listening to the music. It's been great and I highly recommend it. Bob Dylan's John Wesley Harding, They Might Be Giants' John Henry (just a coincidence - didn't see that 'til just now), R.E.M.'s Reveal, and the Minnesota Orchestra's Beethoven Symphonies 1-8 (not ready for 9 yet) have been the heretofore neglected pieces of music I've really enjoyed getting to know in more depth. Recently I've been listening to Bruce Springsteen's Lucky Town.

Turns out there are also two of me. Here's how one part of me hears Lucky Town.

- Ugh. Why is every single melody 3-3-3-3-2-1-2-1-1-1-1-(down to)-6-5-5? (These are scale degrees. If you don't know what I'm talking about listen to my very sincere tribute to Bruce Springsteen.)
-These chord changes are the same in every song just in a different key.
-The drummer must have gotten really sick of playing that same medium rock beat on 7 out of the 10 tracks. I wonder how he got up the energy and enthusiasm. Maybe the huge amount of dollars per thump?
-The quiet songs are inaudible and if I turn up for them the next loud song blasts me away. Ah, early CD mastering. Still preferable to current CD mastering though.
-He might should have kept the E Street Band on hand for this one.
-Why is he trying so hard to become Bruce Cockburn? He was BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN!?!?!?!
-Boring, boring, boring. I can't take another repetition of this whole album.

Here's how another part of me hears Lucky Town.

(Weeping) "Yes, Bruce, I too treasure the beauty, mystery, terror, and joy that comes with being an adult and being in a loving marriage and raising a family! Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh-ha-ha-ha!" (Further laughing and crying)

I don't know how that works, but there it is.

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Check it out yourself for a penny plus shipping at amazon. It's super cheap used because it was one of those "artist does something slightly different after a huge hit album so the public buys it right away then sells it when it doesn't sustain popularity because the public doesn't really care about music as music only about music as a cultural signifier for part of their fickle, shallow, hollow, insubstantial identity" albums. (See also: R.E.M.'s Monster, which, if they were really super environmentally friendly, they would just take out of print since there are four or five copies in every single used record store and they could save the petroleum used to manufacture new copies.)

In Which I Find More Really Great New Music

You know me, always looking for good music I am not aware of. So today I'm at art class and the teacher is playing something that I think is really great.

After class I'm like, "What was that CD you were playing?"
She looked at me for a second and said, "Adele? 21?"
I was like, "Ohhh, yeah. Wow that was really good! I haven't heard that before."
"Yeah, I try to find good music that will help the students be sort of mellow and do their art."
"Yeah, that was perfect for that."
We talked a little bit more. I felt like sort of a dope. I hope she didn't think I was making some hipster joke or something. I knew ABOUT that album, but I'd never heard that album. So, hey, in case I wasn't the last person on Earth to hear it and you actually are:

There's this really good album you should check out called "21" by this singer from England named Adele.

What's weird about it is that during the class I discreetly texted myself some of the lyrics in order to look them up later on the internet (which I don't have or want on my phone because it's a PHONE) but then I thought, "No. That's so isolationist/information age/sitting at home on the computer instead of getting to know the people in your community!" So yes, I made contact with another human being and, yes, I'm sure she belived I had just crawled out from under a rock.

I Found Some Genuine Good New Music

You know how I'm always like, "What good new music is there?" I mean, I love listening to new stuff from my long time favorite artists and the nth iteration of something with which I'm already familiar. People are like, "Yo La Tengo" or they're like "Arcade Fire" and I'm like, yeah, okay, I can see why people like that. But I'm not like BUWHAAAAH!

But now I am. Somehow I can't remember I came across this:

album: Alopecia
artist: Why?

Hennepin County Library

Amazon.com

I do not know how to link to iTunes.

That is some really, really creative new music that is not really quite like anything I've ever heard before. I really connected with that. And it's from here!

I Forgot How Good It Was

Recently something possessed me to pull out Tracy Chapman's eponymous 1988 debut album. I used to play some of those songs in one of my bands in college and I remembered liking the album throughout high school and college. I listened to it this week and it was absolutely amazing. Why?

-Unlike some 95 percent of albums recorded in the 1980s it hasn't aged a day. The instrumentation, the production, the lyrics, the style - all of it could have been done at any time in the last forty years. It sounds great.

-The words are clear and have not become trite or meaningless. If anything, the words are even more relevant and meaningful now than when they were written in Reagan's '80s. The very first time we listened to it the kids were asking questions about what the singer was saying and we had some good conversations about it. (Child: "Why did he say it would do no good to call the police?" Yes, I remember not being sure if the singer was a man or a woman the first time I heard Fast Car on the radio. So right there it's expanding their consciousness and possibilities by introducing a woman who doesn't look or sound like a Disney princess. And we learn that different people have different experiences with government services.)

-Like the other contemporary Elektra label albums by Billy Bragg (Worker's Playtime) and They Might Be Giants (Flood) I hear and notice new things revealed every time I listen to it. (Good gracious, was Elektra on a super hot streak from 1988-1990 or what?)

-It has never been remastered for modern radio so it is not horribly compressed. There are truly quiet and loud parts, but not to the extent that you have to keep turning it up and down.

-The songs are catchy and I literally dreamed about them last night. Chapman is a brilliant writer of words and music and the production focuses perfectly on the hooks and the meanings and the melodies. It's basically just one of those rare, perfect albums like Ziggy Stardust or Abbey Road where everyone involved got everything just right.

Seeing as how it sold six million in the US alone, several used copies of it are available at amazon for under a dollar. What's stopping you? Be inspired.

Reconstructing Country Proud

So there was this cassette we had when I was a kid. I didn't know there were thousands upon thousands of albums and artists and K-Tel made budget priced compilations and so on. I just knew there was the Beatles and Jesus Christ Superstar on records and there was this tape that we played incessantly in the car on family road trips and I liked it most of the time.

It is available at amazon in its original cassette form, but only used, and only from people who are interested in gouging you for your memories. Minimum price for a 26 year old cassette is currently $24.95. Yeah, ouch. Plus it only has 12 songs where ours had 16. Mysterious.

So anyway, I thought I would reconstruct it from iTunes. As you can see, this plan only really fell at the final hurdle.

Country Proud at the iTunes store:

Gary Morris: Wind Beneath My Wings (Rhino Hi-Five)
Crystal Gayle: The Sound of Goodbye (Crystal Gayle: The Hits)
Alabama: Lady Down On Love (several options)
John Conlee: Common Man (only a live version is available)
Deborah Allen: I've Been Wrong Before (several options)
Lee Greenwood: I.O.U. (several options)

Janie Fricke: It Ain't Easy Bein' Easy (several options)
Gary Morris & Lynn Anderson: You're Welcome To Tonight (Greatest Hits, Vol. 2)
Willie Nelson: Angel Flyin' Too Close To The Ground (live?) (several options)
Ricky Skaggs: Heartbroke (several options)

Sylvia: I Never Quite Got Back (From Loving You) (RCA Country Legends: Sylvia)
Ronnie Milsap: Show Her (The Essential...)
George Strait: You Look So Good In Love (several options)
Don Williams: Stay Young (several options)
Earl Thomas Conley: Don't Make It Easy For Me (several options)
Jim Glaser: If I Could Only Dance With You (not available. Rats!)

Good thing we still have the original tape plus a copy of the tape from when it stopped working quite right. I hope it works.

Oh, and by the way I don't recommend searching for the phrase Country Proud. The contrast between what that meant in 1983 and what it seems to mean in 2010 is disappointing. Naidr find: An album called God & Guns by a ripoff band that has appropriated the once proud name of Lynyrd Skynyrd.

What is Your Favorite Ten Years of Music?

If you could ONLY listen to music from ten continuous years, which ten continuous years would they be and why? Also, who would you miss most that was not recording during those years? It does not have to be a strict decade like 1990-1999 and mine is not. It does have to be ten continuous years. I've thought about it a lot and my answer will be posted in a while. If you think you know me well, guess mine. That could be fun.

Hey, also this: I'm looking for a book of illustrated, accurate, intelligent bible stories for preschoolers. I'm scanning amazon and my library but if anyone has a really great one they know and love let me know.

What Am I Going To Do? This.

Here is the plan. There are these two or three or nine songs eating my brain constantly. Tonight, possibly late tonight, I will create drum machine tracks for them and possibly bass, electric guitar and (very quiet) guide vocals. (The kids will be asleep upstairs after all.) I am hopeful that my recording computer will not have problems, yet I am dreading that it will, which will be all I need after a day of near constant WPP. (White People's Problems - e.g. they wouldn't give me a free permanent locker at the health club even though the guy who signed us up for the platinum membership told us we would get them. Dammit! See what I mean?)

Anyway, I'll do that, hold me to it. If I don't do it the songs will continue to eat at my brain, causing unhappiness and dissatisfaction.

Now for the bigger plan! In November, I will not use the internet. Let me say that again. (Ha, ha. See how I'm like Joe Biden? And just parroting whatever the candidates say with someone who looks like them? That's funny, right? No SNL, no it isn't.) In November, I will not use the internet.

Okay, I'll use it for a few, few essentials. But blogging? Not essential. E-mail? Probably not, no. YouTube? Wikipedia? Ha. Right. I just don't have time for you anymore, internet. Monday nights are now yoga class, not public library. That day at Grandma and Grandpa's (who have high speed wireless at home, unlike me) are probably better spent interacting with the two generations on either side of mine. I'll find out, anyway. I've got to finish "The Shapely Bottles" too. Shoot, Bride wrote an entire novel last November. Why can't I wrap up a few things that have been plaguing me?

I just drank a 20 oz. coffee so I'm full of ideas. And jittery. And inspired.

(Okay, I just spell checked for "plaguing" and found that the internet spellchecker feels that the word "internet" should always be capitalized. Kind of self-important and out of touch, internet based spellchecker.)