So with posting this, I'm kind of scooping myself.
I wrote this article for the McNally Smith Decibel, the student publication at my school, back in November, after a student poll showed roughly a third of the student body was planning to vote in the midterm elections. Due to one thing and another, it will finally be published in the edition coming out this month. However, after my recent trip to Madison, and the events that have occurred there in the last few days, I feel that this should be posted before my next few articles, for both edification and reference purposes.
Recently, this publication ran a poll asking whether or not individuals would be voting in the midterm election. The poll returned roughly thirty-three percent to each of the three possible responses, 'Yes', 'No', and 'What?'. These results show a rather negative trend; either a full third of those polled managed to avoid politics to the extreme that they were completely ignorant of the midterm election and a further third knew of it but did not intend to vote, or a large number of people decided that this poll was a joke and treated it as such. While neither is positive, here it is the former that shall be discussed.
There are many arguments and excuses from people who don't vote, especially in midterm elections such as these past ones, ranging from 'Politics doesn't affect me' to 'There are no honest politicians' to 'Midterm elections are pointless anyways'. Regardless of the argument or reason, the end result remains the same: one more individual who has waived their right as a citizen of this country to influence the direction of its' development and to voice their opinion of the direction it is currently taking in a way that politicians do understand, and above all, will react to.
Politics affects us all, regardless of where we are in this country, what it is we do, where we work, or whether we vote. Politics decide tax rates yes, which it seems is often the only thing we hear about, but it also controls infrastructure maintenance, nature conservation, the military, and so much more. All too often we think about the government as something which just takes, takes, takes, and we forget what it does.
As for the concept that there are no honest politicians, that is just untrue. It also suffers from the concept that politicians are supposed to be some sort of Nietzschean supermen, free from the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to and beyond any sort of basic animal instinct. The fact is that politicians are people, they aren't any different then the people you walk past on the street every day; they don't get special training, they don't have to get a degree. All that happens is they tell other regular people that they will represent them as best they can. That's it. Some are honest people. However, some are looking after personal interests. Still others are more focused on the interests of the few then the many. But there are good people out there in politics. Too often we don't hear about them, because we're too focused on the noisemakers, the extremists on both sides of the aisle. We see the ambitious men, the ones who are looking for power. What we don't see are the ones whose interests are focused on helping the people they were elected to represent. And they do exist. But don't just take their word for it. Find out things about them, examine their current and past positions. And if you get the chance, talk to them. Judge them for yourselves.
I have often heard that the political system in this country needs 'change' and 'shaking up'. Also often heard are complaints that individuals lack the tools to do this, unless it be with guns and violence. The tool for every citizen of this country to effect change is already there. It is insured by law, by Article VI of the Constitution itself, and its', 15th, 19th, 24th, and 26th amendments. Those articles provide the right to vote to every citizen over the age of 18, regardless of religion, race, or gender.
But does just one vote matter? That is another common saying. Well, the individual tools are present, but it took a great many tools working together to build the Panama Canal, or the Hoover Dam. One vote does matter, because all of those 'just one' votes add up quickly. Band together, talk to people, get the information, and vote. If you don't like the way things are going, and you know other people who think the same way, tell your representatives, vote for those who you think have your interests at heart, not their own. Convince enough people to vote with you, and who knows, maybe those 'just one' votes will change something for the better. Minnesota Senator Al Franken was elected in the 2008 election by a margin of 312 'just one' votes. That's roughly half the student body of McNally Smith. And the most interesting part is that all it would have taken to turn the election around would have been another 312 people voting the other way. Plus 'just one' more.
I leave you with a quote from the American writer Alexander Woollcott:
"I am tired of hearing it said that democracy doesn't work. Of course it doesn't work. We are supposed to work it."
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Madison WI, March 4-6, 2011
As this last weekend was the beginning of my spring break, I took a much needed break from things and went to visit friends and family in Madison, WI. I'm sure we're all aware of what has been going on in Madison of late, but here's a quick recap for those who aren't aware. To deal with an upcoming budget shortfall, newly elected Governor Scott Walker has put forth a bill which does a variety of things, among others giving him the right to sell off and privatize the state's power plants without having to take bids, and the much contended issue at the moment is the most infamous of all; with his bill in place, almost all government unions (excepting the police, firefighters, and state patrol) will lose their collective bargaining rights for everything except inflation based pay increases.
Because of this, and a few other things, something incredible has happened there, and let me be the first to tell you that you have no idea just how incredible it is until you've been there for yourself. I spent part of my weekend in Madison's Capitol Square, watching and walking with the protesters, and there is a vital force there that is all at once amazing and terrifying. Amazing because every day, even in the midwest still in the grip of winter, and today, almost four weeks after the protests began, there are more then a thousand people out there at any given moment during the day. Saturday morning when we were walking up to the Capitol so I could see, we passed a bus-full of protestors just arrived, and a man informed them that there was a place just across the street where they could grab some food before heading up. I went to have coffee with a few friends from highschool, and as I walked down State Street, I could watch as new protesters walked up one side towards the capitol, and others cycled out to warm up and put their signs down for a moment, grab a bite to eat, then cycle back in. While I was talking to my friends, I received a text from my sister informing me that Michael Moore, well known director and liberal voice, had just given a speech.
When I went past Sunday I listened to part of a speech from the head of the National Letter Carrier's Union, while my sister grabbed a slice of pizza from the dozen or so that somebody was handing out (Ian's Pizza, I'm sure among others, has been receiving orders from all over the US for pizzas to go to the protestors, and the rest of the world as well, as far away as Egypt and Germany). I saw protestors high-fiving police officers as they left the square, which is an image that I'm sure will stay with me for a very long time.
At the same time, it's terrifying, although Governor Walker apparently does not agree with me, as he had announced both publicly (and what he thought was privately) that he will not deal, and that this bill will pass regardless. But when I stood there, listening to the roar of the thousand plus people in the square, I did feel afraid. I will admit, partially because groups of people like that are more susceptible to all kinds of influences, although this is easily the most peaceful yet forceful protest I've ever seen (while I was there, I was told stories of a tea-partier who attempted to start a fist-fight; after he threw the first punch, he was collectively hugged into submission) But mostly I found fear in the fact that we had somehow made it to the place where this could occur.
My sister told me of friends of hers who, although quite liberal, voted for Gov. Walker in the November mid-term election. Why? Not because they agreed with his policies, but because they were angry with what the Obama administration had failed to do thus far. Well I hate to break it to these people, but making his job *harder* isn't helping any. And now they're surprised that Walker is delivering on his campaign promises. Their 'protest votes' are biting them in the ass, threatening them with loss of income and bargaining rights.
There is a quote from American writer Alexander Woollcott which I feel is entirely apropos to this situation:
"I am tired of hearing it said that democracy doesn't work. Of course it doesn't work. We are supposed to work it."
What I saw this weekend was people working democracy. People out showing their colours, taking part in the process. But they're out there now because people allowed their anger and apathy to get the better of them, and rather then working democracy, they sat back and expected it to do what they thought it should. Democracy can't read your mind. It can only respond to your actions and your words, your words to the officials you elect to represent you. And the action you take when, every two years, you go to your local polling station and vote. As citizens of the United States of America, our right to take this part in our democracy is given by Article VI of the Constitution, and by the 15th, 19th, 24th, and 26th amendments. Of course, if this right is applied inadvisably, being used to voice discontent regardless of possible repercussions, the result is, well, look for yourself. Read about what is happening in Wisconsin, Ohio, and Indiana. And remember.
Because of this, and a few other things, something incredible has happened there, and let me be the first to tell you that you have no idea just how incredible it is until you've been there for yourself. I spent part of my weekend in Madison's Capitol Square, watching and walking with the protesters, and there is a vital force there that is all at once amazing and terrifying. Amazing because every day, even in the midwest still in the grip of winter, and today, almost four weeks after the protests began, there are more then a thousand people out there at any given moment during the day. Saturday morning when we were walking up to the Capitol so I could see, we passed a bus-full of protestors just arrived, and a man informed them that there was a place just across the street where they could grab some food before heading up. I went to have coffee with a few friends from highschool, and as I walked down State Street, I could watch as new protesters walked up one side towards the capitol, and others cycled out to warm up and put their signs down for a moment, grab a bite to eat, then cycle back in. While I was talking to my friends, I received a text from my sister informing me that Michael Moore, well known director and liberal voice, had just given a speech.
When I went past Sunday I listened to part of a speech from the head of the National Letter Carrier's Union, while my sister grabbed a slice of pizza from the dozen or so that somebody was handing out (Ian's Pizza, I'm sure among others, has been receiving orders from all over the US for pizzas to go to the protestors, and the rest of the world as well, as far away as Egypt and Germany). I saw protestors high-fiving police officers as they left the square, which is an image that I'm sure will stay with me for a very long time.
At the same time, it's terrifying, although Governor Walker apparently does not agree with me, as he had announced both publicly (and what he thought was privately) that he will not deal, and that this bill will pass regardless. But when I stood there, listening to the roar of the thousand plus people in the square, I did feel afraid. I will admit, partially because groups of people like that are more susceptible to all kinds of influences, although this is easily the most peaceful yet forceful protest I've ever seen (while I was there, I was told stories of a tea-partier who attempted to start a fist-fight; after he threw the first punch, he was collectively hugged into submission) But mostly I found fear in the fact that we had somehow made it to the place where this could occur.
My sister told me of friends of hers who, although quite liberal, voted for Gov. Walker in the November mid-term election. Why? Not because they agreed with his policies, but because they were angry with what the Obama administration had failed to do thus far. Well I hate to break it to these people, but making his job *harder* isn't helping any. And now they're surprised that Walker is delivering on his campaign promises. Their 'protest votes' are biting them in the ass, threatening them with loss of income and bargaining rights.
There is a quote from American writer Alexander Woollcott which I feel is entirely apropos to this situation:
"I am tired of hearing it said that democracy doesn't work. Of course it doesn't work. We are supposed to work it."
What I saw this weekend was people working democracy. People out showing their colours, taking part in the process. But they're out there now because people allowed their anger and apathy to get the better of them, and rather then working democracy, they sat back and expected it to do what they thought it should. Democracy can't read your mind. It can only respond to your actions and your words, your words to the officials you elect to represent you. And the action you take when, every two years, you go to your local polling station and vote. As citizens of the United States of America, our right to take this part in our democracy is given by Article VI of the Constitution, and by the 15th, 19th, 24th, and 26th amendments. Of course, if this right is applied inadvisably, being used to voice discontent regardless of possible repercussions, the result is, well, look for yourself. Read about what is happening in Wisconsin, Ohio, and Indiana. And remember.
Monday, November 1, 2010
'If this is work, you're doing it wrong'.
I recently heard someone at my school make a statement to this effect:
'I don't really listen to music. I have maybe 10GB of music, and probably half of that is stuff I worked on, different versions of mixes and whatnot. I don't really acquire music; I work on music all day, and for me getting music is like working in an office all day and stopping by Staples on the way home to browse office supplies.'
Let's start out with the fact that this statement is a logical fallacy - in fact it is several. We're assuming that the cause of stopping by Staples on the way home to browse office supplies is the unstated reason that we work with office supplies all day. What if, for example, your home printer was out of paper?
Stepping back from the logic of the statement, let us look at it's implications for those who are preparing themselves to work in the music industry, even as engineers and producers. I personally find the statement rather horrifying. First of all, as an engineer and producer, I believe it to be one's duty to familiarize oneself with as much music as possible, in order that one might better do one's job, regardless of the band or situation one is presented with. If one is dependent on reference material when working on something, then one forgoes the possibility of bringing anything new to the process. Perhaps that is what is desired, but then what exactly *are* you bringing to the process? The knowledge of what this compressor does, or what that plug-in will do? If the sound is pre-determined like that, then you're really just the trained monkey, pushing buttons to make things happen.
(For you non engineers out there, reference material refers to, say, mixing a country singer who says 'I want this to sound like the new Taylor Swift album' so you listen to the new Taylor Swift album (you poor bastard) to get the sound in your head, to analyze it and make what you're working on sound as much like it as possible.)
I once heard someone say 'If music is work, you're doing it wrong'. While I do not feel quite that strongly about it, I agree with the sentiment. There is always a certain level of work involved. Maybe you have to play some music you're not that fond of, but it pays the bills so you can play the stuff you like. Maybe you write musicals because that's what you enjoy, but you have to write commercial jingles because it's what pays the bills. The point is that you should still enjoy the music. If the music isn't the endgoal, then what is? Some pretty sounding audio that you made sound cool with the newest gear? If I, as a musician, was working with a producer and I asked him what the endgoal was of the process, and his response was 'making some kickass audio' I would probably (contract allowing) pack up my stuff and walk out then and there. I'm glad you want to make some kickass audio. But if you're just thinking of the music as audio to be manipulated, then you're missing something. Let me elaborate.
One of my favorite albums of all time is Jackson Browne's 'Solo Acoustic, Vol. 1'. When I got it, I was already a fan of Browne's music, and greatly enjoyed it. But when I listened to this album, all of which consists only of Browne and a piano or guitar, I suddenly realized how beautiful so much of his music was, how well written the lyrics were and how much feeling was in so much of it. Even albums such as 'Lawyers in Love', which I previously had regarded with a sort of vague disregard as 'well, it was the eighties, y'know?' suddenly warranted a second hearing, and I have discovered new and great things about them. But as great as these well produced albums are, with all the work that went into making them sound incredible, the one that grabs me as the great one every time is the one which lacks almost any production at all. The guitar has that slightly bright unreal quality that acoustic guitar pickups so often do, the piano is rough and at times, feels distant, and his voice is clearly being recorded through something like an SM58, with minimal warmth or breadth to it. But it's the music that brings me back every time.
On the other hand, I know that a hell of a lot of production went into Missy Higgins' second album, 'On A Clear Night'. The whole thing is incredibly well produced, and sounds quite nice. All too much of the music on the album, however, is fluff. Do not get me wrong, there are a few good songs on there, but I find that overall the album feels like a lot of repetitive fluff wrapped up in a bunch of, well, pretty audio. And I wish that a lot more time had gone into making the music good then into making it sound good. I'd rather go listen to the rough tones of Jackson Browne playing an acoustic live show, with all its' feeling and power, then to the pretty but too often boring tones of Missy's second album.
I have no illusions about making massive quantities of money in this industry. I have no plans to strike it rich. I'm in this for the music, because the music is what lets me keep moving every day. If you don't really care about the music, then why work with it all the time? And don't say 'I care about the music, I just don't want to listen to it all the time and think music all the time. I'll work with it, but it stays in the office'. That's not care, or love, or craft. That's a hobby. That's a job, and that's not how you get successful. I walk past the Securian Center in the cities every day, and I see the young financial guys going in and out. And the ones who're successful, who're wearing the three piece suits and carrying the nice briefcases, are the ones who go home and think about their work.
I'm not saying I spend all of my waking moments blasting music out of my computer and iPod. But I listen to music. Occasionally I'll even sit down, make myself some tea, and just listen to an album be it Missy Higgins, Jackson Browne, Pink Floyd, Dessa, Jethro Tull, The Eagles, The Killers, Poets of the Fall, Queen, Nirvana, Deadsoul Tribe, Allen/Lande. The music is why I'm doing this. And the day it starts being work that I leave at the office, or just the way I pay the bills, is the day I say 'Time to move on'.
'I don't really listen to music. I have maybe 10GB of music, and probably half of that is stuff I worked on, different versions of mixes and whatnot. I don't really acquire music; I work on music all day, and for me getting music is like working in an office all day and stopping by Staples on the way home to browse office supplies.'
Let's start out with the fact that this statement is a logical fallacy - in fact it is several. We're assuming that the cause of stopping by Staples on the way home to browse office supplies is the unstated reason that we work with office supplies all day. What if, for example, your home printer was out of paper?
Stepping back from the logic of the statement, let us look at it's implications for those who are preparing themselves to work in the music industry, even as engineers and producers. I personally find the statement rather horrifying. First of all, as an engineer and producer, I believe it to be one's duty to familiarize oneself with as much music as possible, in order that one might better do one's job, regardless of the band or situation one is presented with. If one is dependent on reference material when working on something, then one forgoes the possibility of bringing anything new to the process. Perhaps that is what is desired, but then what exactly *are* you bringing to the process? The knowledge of what this compressor does, or what that plug-in will do? If the sound is pre-determined like that, then you're really just the trained monkey, pushing buttons to make things happen.
(For you non engineers out there, reference material refers to, say, mixing a country singer who says 'I want this to sound like the new Taylor Swift album' so you listen to the new Taylor Swift album (you poor bastard) to get the sound in your head, to analyze it and make what you're working on sound as much like it as possible.)
I once heard someone say 'If music is work, you're doing it wrong'. While I do not feel quite that strongly about it, I agree with the sentiment. There is always a certain level of work involved. Maybe you have to play some music you're not that fond of, but it pays the bills so you can play the stuff you like. Maybe you write musicals because that's what you enjoy, but you have to write commercial jingles because it's what pays the bills. The point is that you should still enjoy the music. If the music isn't the endgoal, then what is? Some pretty sounding audio that you made sound cool with the newest gear? If I, as a musician, was working with a producer and I asked him what the endgoal was of the process, and his response was 'making some kickass audio' I would probably (contract allowing) pack up my stuff and walk out then and there. I'm glad you want to make some kickass audio. But if you're just thinking of the music as audio to be manipulated, then you're missing something. Let me elaborate.
One of my favorite albums of all time is Jackson Browne's 'Solo Acoustic, Vol. 1'. When I got it, I was already a fan of Browne's music, and greatly enjoyed it. But when I listened to this album, all of which consists only of Browne and a piano or guitar, I suddenly realized how beautiful so much of his music was, how well written the lyrics were and how much feeling was in so much of it. Even albums such as 'Lawyers in Love', which I previously had regarded with a sort of vague disregard as 'well, it was the eighties, y'know?' suddenly warranted a second hearing, and I have discovered new and great things about them. But as great as these well produced albums are, with all the work that went into making them sound incredible, the one that grabs me as the great one every time is the one which lacks almost any production at all. The guitar has that slightly bright unreal quality that acoustic guitar pickups so often do, the piano is rough and at times, feels distant, and his voice is clearly being recorded through something like an SM58, with minimal warmth or breadth to it. But it's the music that brings me back every time.
On the other hand, I know that a hell of a lot of production went into Missy Higgins' second album, 'On A Clear Night'. The whole thing is incredibly well produced, and sounds quite nice. All too much of the music on the album, however, is fluff. Do not get me wrong, there are a few good songs on there, but I find that overall the album feels like a lot of repetitive fluff wrapped up in a bunch of, well, pretty audio. And I wish that a lot more time had gone into making the music good then into making it sound good. I'd rather go listen to the rough tones of Jackson Browne playing an acoustic live show, with all its' feeling and power, then to the pretty but too often boring tones of Missy's second album.
I have no illusions about making massive quantities of money in this industry. I have no plans to strike it rich. I'm in this for the music, because the music is what lets me keep moving every day. If you don't really care about the music, then why work with it all the time? And don't say 'I care about the music, I just don't want to listen to it all the time and think music all the time. I'll work with it, but it stays in the office'. That's not care, or love, or craft. That's a hobby. That's a job, and that's not how you get successful. I walk past the Securian Center in the cities every day, and I see the young financial guys going in and out. And the ones who're successful, who're wearing the three piece suits and carrying the nice briefcases, are the ones who go home and think about their work.
I'm not saying I spend all of my waking moments blasting music out of my computer and iPod. But I listen to music. Occasionally I'll even sit down, make myself some tea, and just listen to an album be it Missy Higgins, Jackson Browne, Pink Floyd, Dessa, Jethro Tull, The Eagles, The Killers, Poets of the Fall, Queen, Nirvana, Deadsoul Tribe, Allen/Lande. The music is why I'm doing this. And the day it starts being work that I leave at the office, or just the way I pay the bills, is the day I say 'Time to move on'.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
My Two Cents - So why do you want to be a music major?
One of the most common questions to receive as a music student is always 'Why?', both from people you meet, and, on those long nights of working on music theory, part writing and other such niceties of the field, other music students. The answers that are given are fascinating in the extremist. Here's a few of them, and my thoughts, opinions, and a few other people's as well mixed in for good measure. (Please note that none of this is aimed at anybody in specific)
Q: Music, really? Why?
A: For the money
Q: Hahahaha... no, seriously, why?
This is actually an answer I still hear; possibly because I go to a contemporary music school, but still, not a good sign. While it is possible to make your fortune in music, the odds are stacked rather heavily against you. Very heavily. Veeeeeerrry heavily. The people who make money in music aren't the musicians. It's the business people. And even the business people are having more trouble doing that these days. If you're going into music for the money, then let me tell you now; leave music school, and go get an MBA. You'll probably end up paying just as much, making more money, and I won't have to listen to you bitch about how much you hate doing theory homework.
Q: Music? Seriously?
A: It's what I'm good at.
I'll accept that. It's really as good a reason as any, although a little enthusiasm is probably wise. I suppose there are worse things you could be studying. Like... art history (not to hate on what I'm sure is a noble and important academic field. But that's really all it is; an academic field.) Hopefully you enjoy what you're good at, that's all I'm saying.
Q: You're actually a music major?
A: Yes. I love listening to music, and I've written a few songs.
(I'm not kidding. I've heard this one.)
I've heard this one. And I've heard the outcome from the guys who love listening to music, and they've written a few songs, so why not go to music school. And most of them either change majors reallly fast, or they suffer through it and find something else to do, or worse, they suffer through it, then try to function as a musician while trying to ignore the fact that they learned it all. Unless you're really a music geek, fewer things kill the enjoyment of music for many people faster then actually studying it. I feel pretty safe in saying that music theory is the #1 cause of music school dropouts. Either people can't quite get their heads around it, or they're finding out that learning how it works takes the magic away. Personally, I feel that finding out how things work adds to the magic, but unfortunately, my sense of wonder is a little twisted around from most people's, and music theory is all about how music works.
Q: So. Music, huh?
A: It's what I do.
Many people don't see the difference between this and 'it's what I'm good at'. Let me explain; the former is a declaration that 'I have some proficiency in it, so I might as well do it'. This one, however, is a declaration that 'It's what I'm good at, it's all I'm good at, and I am, indeed, very good at it, to the point where I've focused on it above all others'. This one's usually a good reason, although buyer beware, as it can lead to the dreaded ego enlargement, although that's not always bad, so long as you do keep in mind what you do and what you don't do.
Q: You really decided on music?
A: OMG yes it's like my life!
Okay. You have enthusiasm. This is good. You have focus. This is also good. I do recommend having at least one non-musical hobby or activity, though, for both your sanity and others.
Well, that's my two cents on the most common ones I hear. If y'all have suggestions of more reasons that you've heard that you want me to talk about, toss me an e-mail or leave a comment, and if I get enough, or if I get a good one, I'll post it.
Q: Music, really? Why?
A: For the money
Q: Hahahaha... no, seriously, why?
This is actually an answer I still hear; possibly because I go to a contemporary music school, but still, not a good sign. While it is possible to make your fortune in music, the odds are stacked rather heavily against you. Very heavily. Veeeeeerrry heavily. The people who make money in music aren't the musicians. It's the business people. And even the business people are having more trouble doing that these days. If you're going into music for the money, then let me tell you now; leave music school, and go get an MBA. You'll probably end up paying just as much, making more money, and I won't have to listen to you bitch about how much you hate doing theory homework.
Q: Music? Seriously?
A: It's what I'm good at.
I'll accept that. It's really as good a reason as any, although a little enthusiasm is probably wise. I suppose there are worse things you could be studying. Like... art history (not to hate on what I'm sure is a noble and important academic field. But that's really all it is; an academic field.) Hopefully you enjoy what you're good at, that's all I'm saying.
Q: You're actually a music major?
A: Yes. I love listening to music, and I've written a few songs.
(I'm not kidding. I've heard this one.)
I've heard this one. And I've heard the outcome from the guys who love listening to music, and they've written a few songs, so why not go to music school. And most of them either change majors reallly fast, or they suffer through it and find something else to do, or worse, they suffer through it, then try to function as a musician while trying to ignore the fact that they learned it all. Unless you're really a music geek, fewer things kill the enjoyment of music for many people faster then actually studying it. I feel pretty safe in saying that music theory is the #1 cause of music school dropouts. Either people can't quite get their heads around it, or they're finding out that learning how it works takes the magic away. Personally, I feel that finding out how things work adds to the magic, but unfortunately, my sense of wonder is a little twisted around from most people's, and music theory is all about how music works.
Q: So. Music, huh?
A: It's what I do.
Many people don't see the difference between this and 'it's what I'm good at'. Let me explain; the former is a declaration that 'I have some proficiency in it, so I might as well do it'. This one, however, is a declaration that 'It's what I'm good at, it's all I'm good at, and I am, indeed, very good at it, to the point where I've focused on it above all others'. This one's usually a good reason, although buyer beware, as it can lead to the dreaded ego enlargement, although that's not always bad, so long as you do keep in mind what you do and what you don't do.
Q: You really decided on music?
A: OMG yes it's like my life!
Okay. You have enthusiasm. This is good. You have focus. This is also good. I do recommend having at least one non-musical hobby or activity, though, for both your sanity and others.
Well, that's my two cents on the most common ones I hear. If y'all have suggestions of more reasons that you've heard that you want me to talk about, toss me an e-mail or leave a comment, and if I get enough, or if I get a good one, I'll post it.
Monday, February 22, 2010
My Two Cents - Recording Engineers and Music Theory
This is a subject which has been annoying the hell out of me over the last six months, because in the recording technology program at the school I currently attend, McNally Smith College of Music, all recording technology students have to take at least one level of music theory, which at this particular college, because of the school's input, goes roughly from 'This is a staff' to 'That's what a dominant seventh chord is'. Now I realize a lot of people have trouble with music theory. But I'm continuously hearing Recording Tech students bitching about how they don't see why they should have to study any music theory; in one extreme case, the individual pointed out that he had computer programs which can tell him all the information that he'll learn to recognize in Theory I, and do all the stuff he'll learn in Ear Training.
*sigh*
Alright, here's my two cents on this subject, for posterity.
Let's assume for a second that you're studying recording technology in order to, say, record music. Now, in order to do this, you're going to have to interact with musicians, and it helps to have at least a little bit of a common vocabulary, and it is immensely time saving. For the musician, it's rather disconcerting when they try to talk to you and you have to reorient half the stuff they say into layman's terms. Being able to tell if someone is in tune with the rest of the music is important, and if they're in tune with themselves. If it's the sound they're going for, then that's good. But what start out as small issues during a recording session start getting bigger and bigger as the process continues, and don't forget that while the artist is the one whose face ends up on the cover, you are still credited somewhere, and if those problems end up with a major flaw on the record, then people within the industry are just as likely to give a stern look at the engineer as the artist (depending on how wildly successful the artist is, possibly moreso)
And just to reiterate a major point, musician's like to be able to talk about what they're doing with the engineer without having to repeat themselves a half dozen times, and may even ask you for your opinion on something, and it makes a good impression if you can just answer without having to dumb the whole thing down.
And I'm glad that there are computer programs out there that help people figure this stuff out, but do they tell you what it means? Let's say a piece is in the key of F major. Alright, your computer program spits that out at you, and what do you do with it? Without a knowledge of music theory, it's just useless data. Moreover, audio recognition software is getting better, but it is still far from infallible, and if it spits out a wrong piece of information, then you could end up getting completely screwed.
And don't forget, there are two phrases that the client/artist never likes to hear during a session. The first one is 'I can't do that'; while not always avoidable, it should be avoided as much as possible. And the second, more applicable one here, is 'I don't understand/know what you're talking about.'
And finally, let's not forget that the people who say that you should know this stuff have been doing this for a hell of a lot longer then you have, and they probably have a better idea of what'll help you be successful in the industry then you do at this point. What appears to be busywork does in fact have a purpose, especially when it comes to the application of music theory.
For those of you who still think I'm crazy, check out this interview with Craig Alvin; he's a Nashville based recording engineer, and he talks a bit about what it takes to be an in-demand recording engineer (in other words, a gainfully employed one.
And that is all I will say on the subject. Hopefully my next post will be about something of more interest to everyone.
*sigh*
Alright, here's my two cents on this subject, for posterity.
Let's assume for a second that you're studying recording technology in order to, say, record music. Now, in order to do this, you're going to have to interact with musicians, and it helps to have at least a little bit of a common vocabulary, and it is immensely time saving. For the musician, it's rather disconcerting when they try to talk to you and you have to reorient half the stuff they say into layman's terms. Being able to tell if someone is in tune with the rest of the music is important, and if they're in tune with themselves. If it's the sound they're going for, then that's good. But what start out as small issues during a recording session start getting bigger and bigger as the process continues, and don't forget that while the artist is the one whose face ends up on the cover, you are still credited somewhere, and if those problems end up with a major flaw on the record, then people within the industry are just as likely to give a stern look at the engineer as the artist (depending on how wildly successful the artist is, possibly moreso)
And just to reiterate a major point, musician's like to be able to talk about what they're doing with the engineer without having to repeat themselves a half dozen times, and may even ask you for your opinion on something, and it makes a good impression if you can just answer without having to dumb the whole thing down.
And I'm glad that there are computer programs out there that help people figure this stuff out, but do they tell you what it means? Let's say a piece is in the key of F major. Alright, your computer program spits that out at you, and what do you do with it? Without a knowledge of music theory, it's just useless data. Moreover, audio recognition software is getting better, but it is still far from infallible, and if it spits out a wrong piece of information, then you could end up getting completely screwed.
And don't forget, there are two phrases that the client/artist never likes to hear during a session. The first one is 'I can't do that'; while not always avoidable, it should be avoided as much as possible. And the second, more applicable one here, is 'I don't understand/know what you're talking about.'
And finally, let's not forget that the people who say that you should know this stuff have been doing this for a hell of a lot longer then you have, and they probably have a better idea of what'll help you be successful in the industry then you do at this point. What appears to be busywork does in fact have a purpose, especially when it comes to the application of music theory.
For those of you who still think I'm crazy, check out this interview with Craig Alvin; he's a Nashville based recording engineer, and he talks a bit about what it takes to be an in-demand recording engineer (in other words, a gainfully employed one.
And that is all I will say on the subject. Hopefully my next post will be about something of more interest to everyone.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Beepity Beep And Other Foolish Things - Chiptunes!
I have for some reason had in my life an attraction to chiptunes, those devilish things, and to 8-bit music in general; unfortunately for you, whomsoever you may be, you will probably hear about this attraction every once in a while.
Chiptunes are music that has been created in the vain of classic video game music, often using hardware to create this effect, rather then software. They vary greatly from individual from individual; one of the best repositories I have found of chiptunes is the rather magnificent 8bitpeoples, and it is also a great example of how they vary. My first experience with the genre was while playing the rather graphically magnificent and conceptually stimulating game 'Darwinia', which takes place entirely inside a graphic representation of a computer network gone themepark; for the soundtrack, Introversion grabbed a few tunes from the rather magnificent electronic musician Tim Lamb, stage names trash80 and tresk. Now as one quickly discovers, his tunes are not usually hardcore chiptune, but rather an amalgamation of electronica and chiptunes, but they're easily a gateway to the harder stuff, such as the just as if not more magnificent Anamanaguchi (and now, seriously, if you haven't clicked on a single link yet, that one is the one that you should) and Bit Shifter (again, worth checking out).
I have had many debates with people about this genre of music; the classical musicians, especially, tend to argue that chiptunes lack expressiveness or feeling, to which I say you have obviously never heard True Fidelity by Twilight Electric; within it there is an expressiveness of a sort that I have never heard elsewhere. Chiptunes have a sort of purity about them; they harken back to a more innocent age when video games didn't have to have majestic scores behind them, sounding all too much like Pirates of the Caribbean (for those of you not in the know, I'm talking about the score to Oblivion- during the title screen I've literally had people wandering into the room going 'PIRATES! OOooo... oh... nevermind...') Instead, you had a simple 8-bit soundtrack coming through a tiny speaker, which still evoked emotions of joy, and when the inevitable speeding hi-hat combo came along to signify a boss, dread.
Chiptunes have a strange sort of power over a certain selection of us; they transcend analog, and are a thing of the purely digital realm, for they are nigh impossible to recreate with analog. Oh, you can play them on a guitar or a keyboard, but they then aren't truly chiptunes. Here is one of the few bastions in the musical world where the digital vs. analog argument has no footholds, because it is a thing of such purity and clarity, and yes, because it is only digital. I'm not saying that analog has no business anywhere, and some people even combine the two (such as Anamanaguchi) but for some of us, the realm of the purely digital is a nice place to vacation every once in a while.
Chiptunes are music that has been created in the vain of classic video game music, often using hardware to create this effect, rather then software. They vary greatly from individual from individual; one of the best repositories I have found of chiptunes is the rather magnificent 8bitpeoples, and it is also a great example of how they vary. My first experience with the genre was while playing the rather graphically magnificent and conceptually stimulating game 'Darwinia', which takes place entirely inside a graphic representation of a computer network gone themepark; for the soundtrack, Introversion grabbed a few tunes from the rather magnificent electronic musician Tim Lamb, stage names trash80 and tresk. Now as one quickly discovers, his tunes are not usually hardcore chiptune, but rather an amalgamation of electronica and chiptunes, but they're easily a gateway to the harder stuff, such as the just as if not more magnificent Anamanaguchi (and now, seriously, if you haven't clicked on a single link yet, that one is the one that you should) and Bit Shifter (again, worth checking out).
I have had many debates with people about this genre of music; the classical musicians, especially, tend to argue that chiptunes lack expressiveness or feeling, to which I say you have obviously never heard True Fidelity by Twilight Electric; within it there is an expressiveness of a sort that I have never heard elsewhere. Chiptunes have a sort of purity about them; they harken back to a more innocent age when video games didn't have to have majestic scores behind them, sounding all too much like Pirates of the Caribbean (for those of you not in the know, I'm talking about the score to Oblivion- during the title screen I've literally had people wandering into the room going 'PIRATES! OOooo... oh... nevermind...') Instead, you had a simple 8-bit soundtrack coming through a tiny speaker, which still evoked emotions of joy, and when the inevitable speeding hi-hat combo came along to signify a boss, dread.
Chiptunes have a strange sort of power over a certain selection of us; they transcend analog, and are a thing of the purely digital realm, for they are nigh impossible to recreate with analog. Oh, you can play them on a guitar or a keyboard, but they then aren't truly chiptunes. Here is one of the few bastions in the musical world where the digital vs. analog argument has no footholds, because it is a thing of such purity and clarity, and yes, because it is only digital. I'm not saying that analog has no business anywhere, and some people even combine the two (such as Anamanaguchi) but for some of us, the realm of the purely digital is a nice place to vacation every once in a while.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Process Planning? - LyricsLyricsLyricsLyrics
After last weekend spent working/socializing with the better half of the band, we now have shape for the entirety of what is hoped to be the upcoming album. I say shape, because what we have is the basis for a lot of the songs. The musical basis. The lyrical basis exists for several of them, and is... 'in potentia', shall we say, for the rest. I've spent a certain amount of time talking to people and generally thinking about this lack of product on my part (I am the lyricist/writer of the pairing).
The other night I attended a concert/Q&A session with one of the songwriting/composition Prof's at McNally Smith College of Music, and was amused when he refused to share his songwriting 'method', citing it as rather private; that I completely understand; the process of writing a song can be extremely personal, and privacy is a nice thing to have, both in the moment and in the general sense. The piece he did feel capable of sharing was that it starts with doing everything possible to do other then write a song.
This got me thinking about my own drive for writing songs, and especially my specific area for the moment, lyrics. I have only, to my memory, managed to actually sit down and completely write a song in one sitting twice (not including revisions). Normally a song is a fairly pained affair for me, with lots of scribbling on pads of engineering paper (an affectation left over from my days as an engineering student), a great many cups of earl grey consumed, and lots of cursing of out of tune guitars, my personally poor piano skills, my lack of inspiration, my sudden lack of pencil lead, batteries for my tuner, and especially cursing of that greatest of drains of productivity: The Internet (with video games coming in a close second). Also involved tends to be lots of digging around in old notebooks from highschool, and in my 'random writings' folder in which lie many sheets of bad poetry and random metaphors and similes which occured to me in the middle of the night (or in the middle of a calculus class). I tend to write things, then start working on a song, and when I run out of inspiration I start flipping through the folder; the lyrics for at least one of the songs we're finishing up is pulled together almost entirely from about six different sets of poetry, random lyrics for songs that never happened, and in one case, a rather bad short story involving some random and rather tasteless linguistic play; (un?)fortunately, the linguistic play wasn't what made it into the song.
When I get really beaten down and can't find any inspiration, I flip on the playlist on my computer made up of all the stuff I've listened to over the years which has suddenly inspired me to write stuff; Leonard Cohen, Missy Higgins, David Bowie, and Mostly Autumn all turn up and I sit down and just write.
When even that fails, there's still one option left: Go to a concert.
Now, that seems rather contrary to many people; normally one goes to a concert to listen, not to write. But for some reason, certain concerts cause me to just become inspired. George Maurer, Storyhill, Cliff Eberhardt and Lucy Kaplansky just to name a few, have all been concerts which have made me suddenly dig around for scraps of paper and pencil. The most recent, a sadly rather less well attended concert by fledgling but already extraordinary singer-songwriter Allye Gaietto was single-handedly responsible for completing sets of lyrics on two songs (one of which, unfortunately, is not slated to go on the album, due to complete narrative discord). Still, these sudden spurts of productivity are incredibly useful. Now if I could only isolate a real cause for them, and somehow utilize that elsewhere.
In any case, progress is slooooooooooooow but steady. This whole writing music via e-mail thing is working, though. And sooner then I probably think, King Arthur and the Bearded Lady shall ride forth and shall (metaphorically) give birth to what shall likely not quite be a magnum opus, but should hopefully be an interesting and somewhat philosophical good time, if not for anyone else, then at least for us.
The other night I attended a concert/Q&A session with one of the songwriting/composition Prof's at McNally Smith College of Music, and was amused when he refused to share his songwriting 'method', citing it as rather private; that I completely understand; the process of writing a song can be extremely personal, and privacy is a nice thing to have, both in the moment and in the general sense. The piece he did feel capable of sharing was that it starts with doing everything possible to do other then write a song.
This got me thinking about my own drive for writing songs, and especially my specific area for the moment, lyrics. I have only, to my memory, managed to actually sit down and completely write a song in one sitting twice (not including revisions). Normally a song is a fairly pained affair for me, with lots of scribbling on pads of engineering paper (an affectation left over from my days as an engineering student), a great many cups of earl grey consumed, and lots of cursing of out of tune guitars, my personally poor piano skills, my lack of inspiration, my sudden lack of pencil lead, batteries for my tuner, and especially cursing of that greatest of drains of productivity: The Internet (with video games coming in a close second). Also involved tends to be lots of digging around in old notebooks from highschool, and in my 'random writings' folder in which lie many sheets of bad poetry and random metaphors and similes which occured to me in the middle of the night (or in the middle of a calculus class). I tend to write things, then start working on a song, and when I run out of inspiration I start flipping through the folder; the lyrics for at least one of the songs we're finishing up is pulled together almost entirely from about six different sets of poetry, random lyrics for songs that never happened, and in one case, a rather bad short story involving some random and rather tasteless linguistic play; (un?)fortunately, the linguistic play wasn't what made it into the song.
When I get really beaten down and can't find any inspiration, I flip on the playlist on my computer made up of all the stuff I've listened to over the years which has suddenly inspired me to write stuff; Leonard Cohen, Missy Higgins, David Bowie, and Mostly Autumn all turn up and I sit down and just write.
When even that fails, there's still one option left: Go to a concert.
Now, that seems rather contrary to many people; normally one goes to a concert to listen, not to write. But for some reason, certain concerts cause me to just become inspired. George Maurer, Storyhill, Cliff Eberhardt and Lucy Kaplansky just to name a few, have all been concerts which have made me suddenly dig around for scraps of paper and pencil. The most recent, a sadly rather less well attended concert by fledgling but already extraordinary singer-songwriter Allye Gaietto was single-handedly responsible for completing sets of lyrics on two songs (one of which, unfortunately, is not slated to go on the album, due to complete narrative discord). Still, these sudden spurts of productivity are incredibly useful. Now if I could only isolate a real cause for them, and somehow utilize that elsewhere.
In any case, progress is slooooooooooooow but steady. This whole writing music via e-mail thing is working, though. And sooner then I probably think, King Arthur and the Bearded Lady shall ride forth and shall (metaphorically) give birth to what shall likely not quite be a magnum opus, but should hopefully be an interesting and somewhat philosophical good time, if not for anyone else, then at least for us.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
