ERiC PETERS

On Flight 1680 (A Poem)

2012-01-26T08:11:00.000-08:00

1/24/12

On flight 1680 to NewOrleans

Steward gives usual pitch

No one bothers listen

Evidenced by Wall StreetJournal’s twitch.

Intercom expounds on oxygen loss

Of flotation and emergencyescape.

Why only one “A” inflotation

Is a plague upon my brain.

No wonder so few listen,

If only out of respect

For even mild decorumrequires

A dose of introspect.

Hark! What if wings fall off

Or plane goes down in flames

Who shall manage exit rows

Or calm the panicked cage?

Rivers far below are mixing

Violent cobalt and roiling brown

The land a meandering patchwork

That knits an earthen crown.

I stand to answer nature’scall

Peer o’er headrests blue

Statue heads grey, coiffedor balding

Not one of us possessing clues.

In career of singing songs

I cannot help but relate

For in the face of sheerest apathy

I die a little this way.

When Last I Saw My Toenail (A Poem)

2012-01-23T06:31:00.000-08:00

All subjects are topical fodder.
1/23/12

When last I saw my toenail

Curled in cuticle bliss

It never occurred to this footlord

That life should come to this.

Smiling, bald and content

At the extremity of the piggy athome

Estranged from familial relations

An adolescent longing to roam.

Keratinremnant pale from shearing

Where isremorse for its pruning?

No grievingof reclusive lunar sliver

On La Quintaroom floor brooding.

Have mercy on dorsal adornment

In jagged, refused state

Abandoned and searching the tangent

Of significance in world’s trampledspace.

How we recoil at the spectre

Of bodily rejection in view

Disgusted by original origin

Pretending this is somehow new.

Some poems should never be written,

Thoughts desiring fields of light

But to the toenail I say

The grass is never greener on theother side.

Torn Asunder (or A Bizarre Dream)

2012-01-12T08:38:00.000-08:00

1/12/12
An actual dream

Act One: I am learning to drive a semi with dad in my neighborhood in east Nashville. Trying to navigate a sharp corner, I roll over a portion of a homeowner's lawn, then get into an argument with him over knot-tying. "I don't know any knots," I tell him. "How am I supposed to tie a knot if you won't teach me?" I plead. He remains stubborn, refusing to help. Furious, my dad and I leave the scene (abandoning the semi, I suppose), and I make my way to Ramer's Grocery (a mom & pop store I worked at in my native Baton Rouge, LA) where I purchase a Baby Ruth candy bar for my dad.

Act Two: I am watching the removal of a maple tree that has fallen across the street landing in our backyard. At that moment, I am munching on, and enjoying, dog food. It is organic Purina. "This stuff is actually really good."

Act Three: Our neighbor directly across the street - not to be confused with the knot-tying arguer - is a single dad with an infant child. I find myself hostage in this man's house. After asking, he informs me, "Yes, you are welcome to leave," either by being torn asunder -- therefore my head "leaving" in one direction, my legs in another, my arms in another (you get the idea) -- or by avoiding and being devoured by the life-size dragon living in his backyard. When the deranged dad takes his kid for a walk in the stroller, I manage to escape and retreat into my house directly across the street. I lay low, watching him from an upstairs window, hoping my skedaddling would not soon be discovered.

Curtain closes.

I believe the culprit was a spicy Thai dinner earlier that evening.

TAKiNG iNVENTORY of 2011

2012-01-02T20:44:00.000-08:00

It's a new year, and I've heard from quite a few folks for whom 2011 was rough. Shall we say "ha ha" to the old year together? I did this last year, very much enjoyed the exercise, so I thought I'd do it again. Here is my Things I'm Thankful For list of 2011.

1. Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors
2. Paints, blank canvases, #4 Filbert & #2 Bright brushes
3. Impressionism
4. Dave Trout and Under the Radar
5. The Under the Radar In Your House Tour (Fall 2011)
6. Extraordinary booking agentess, Laura Preston
7. Janie & Charlie Peters and Penny Ellis
8. House addition
9. New songs
10. A new album BiRDS OF RELOCATiON (coming soon)
11. Active, swirling creativity
12. Old pine wood siding
13. Kickstarter
14. Good Neighbor Lawncare
15. Common thieves who unwittingly awaken the very best in peopl
16. Al Andrews and Porter's Call
17. Jeff Eckert, PSYD
18. Danielle Ellis, Ellis Perrin and Monroe Carle

In the (Studio) Beginning

2011-11-30T07:44:00.001-08:00

Hello from Nashville!
To those of you who helped fund the Kickstarter campaign for Birds of Relocation, THANK YOU! I'm fairly sure it's a poor and misguided analogy, but since the old man Moses required the assistance of his fellow countrymen to hold up his weary arms throughout the miraculous sea-turned-dry-land crossing, the analogy does have elements appropriate to the setting of my new album. Change comes necessarily, if not always on a red carpet. At times, we see its approach and turn out the indoor lights hoping it will get the hint and go away. Even if it doesn't clue in, we at least trust it will have the common decency to wipe its feet on the welcome mat before entering. Whether or not we welcome it is of unimportance and non-negotiable; either way, it comes and we must respond. In better words, each of you has helped ease the very real and large financial burden by holding up my arms. Gush, gush.
I wanted to let you know that Ben (Shive, producer) and I have started work on the album. We've recorded acoustic guitars, drums (Will Chapman), bass (Brent Milligan), and some keys on seven songs thus far. A really good beginning to what I hope will be a mighty enjoyable record. Due to December schedules, he and I won't pick back up with recording until early 2012. In the meantime, I have songs to write/finish.

Some of you have asked - and many more are probably wondering - What does your title, "Birds of Relocation" mean?, and Why are they relocating? In a freak moment of actually rising to the occasion, I recently wrote about this very subject trying my best to explain my reasoning and the overall themes of BoRe here: The Meaning of a Title

Lastly, I thought you might like to see a few innocuous photos I've taken at Ben's studio (The Beehive) during these initial stages of our work together. Stay tuned for more updates, feeble Old Testament analogies, and philosophical meanderings. Thanks, guys! Hope your Thanksgiving was superb, and your Advent and/or Christmas season is nothing shy of a gift.
--
EP

Only seven days left to sponsor Eric Peters' new album!

2011-11-10T23:59:00.001-08:00

Hi folks. Bear hugs and heartfelt thanks to each of you who contributed to my new album, Birds of Relocation. However, there is still quite a bit of ground to cover in order to reach the $12,000 goal by Friday 11/18/11.

If you are not familiar with the Kickstarter platform (which I am using for this project), it observes the "all or nothing" tactic, i.e., if we don't reach the goal, then you get your money back, and I, the artist/patronee, receive $0 of what has been committed thus far to the project. Like I said, all or nothing.That's why it is key in these few remaining days to continue spreading the word via your favorite social media outlets, blogs, emails and megaphones. Any and all friendly and persuasive tactics are welcome. This is a team effort, and I welcome your continued support. Let's make this thing happen!

Lastly, my good friend and producer, Ben Shive, has generously offered his services to the Kickstarter campaign. At this newest tier, affectionately dubbed "The More Cowbell", Ben will produce, record and mix one song of yours at his studio, The Beehive, in Nashville, TN. Ben is good for the soul and good for your song.Thanks, guys!--Eric

sponsor Eric Peters' new album and get cool extras

2011-10-25T09:44:00.001-07:00

ERiC PETERS

BiRDS of ReLOCATION

The new album by Eric Peters (and you)!

Dear Friends,

Two years ago I made a record called Chrome in which I enlisted the financial support of fans. If you supported the making of that album, THANK YOU!

Here in the year of our Lord, 2011, I am embarking upon a brand new record with the immensely talented Ben Shive producing. Once again I am asking for your patronage, this time using the secure platform offered by Kickstarter.com

Kickstarter is powered by a unique all-or-nothing funding method where projects must be fully-funded or no money at all changes hands. This way, there is less risk for everyone. The catch, of course, is that I must raise my full budget by November 18, or else go empty-handed.

A delightful aspect of the Kickstarter platform is the ability to offer you rewards and incentives for your patronage, including early downloads, your name listed as a "patron" in the liner notes, and even a crawfish or crab boil at my home in Nashville, TN!
Please visit my Kickstarter page for futher details, and consider supporting the making of Birds of Relocation.

Thank you in advance for any support you are able & willing to offer. I am eager for you to hear the bright new songs. Until then, see you on hope's boughs.

--
Eric

Tell your friends!

The easiest way to help is to pass it on!

Forward this email to a friend >>

Under The Radar House Show Tour

2011-07-04T12:48:00.000-07:00

I am so thrilled to announce this! I'm teaming up with the super-kind folks at Under the Radar (with whom I have done two previous tours in the Chicago area) for a house show tour anywhere within the continental USA. Let me repeat: Anywhere.

You may be thinking to yourself, "Neat, sounds fun, but I bet it's expensive." Be at peace, grasshopper. UTR is subsidizing the entire trip. Cost to each host is a mere $150 American dollars. That's not a typo. UTR will fund the rest (travel, lodging, meals) of the tour expenses. You may also be thinking, "But, Eric, we're a church and we'd like to host you. Is that possible?" The offer is by no means closed to churches, schools, colleges, airstrips, other venues, etc...., but the price runs a little more than $150 (not by much).

Is there a deadline? Yes. All tour inquiries must be submitted before July 21, 2011.

Interested? For more tour details, booking inquiries or general information, please contact:

Dave Trout
dave@radarradio.net

Or click this link:
Eric Peters House Show Tour

New Goods/Store Pricing

2011-04-05T14:57:00.000-07:00

Times are tough. For everyone. It is no less so for a career in the creative arts as a father of two strapping young boys and as a husband to a furiously supportive wife of nearly 14 years. After much mulling, I have decided to permanently lower the prices on my entire discography (8 total) in the Goods/Store section. My solo albums (6 total) are now just $10.00 (take that, iTunes). In accordance, I have also lowered the price of the ever-popular Chrome + t-shirt Combo and the Superb Pack. (See new prices below)

Here's the newly restructured pricing:

Chrome ~~$13.00~~ now $10.00
Chrome + Beep Beep shirt ~~$25.00~~ now $20.00
Superb Pack (Chrome, Scarce, Ridgely, t-shirt) ~~$30.00~~ now $25.00
Bookmark ~~$10.00~~ now $5.00
Miracle of Forgetting ~~$13.00~~ now $10.00
Land of the Living ~~$13.00~~ now $10.00
Ridgely: The Only Thing ~~$10.00~~ now $5.00

So hop on it, folks. Purchase in the Goods Section. Shipping charges apply.
Thank you as always, and please continue to support the arts.

When The Waters Rise

2011-04-04T09:14:00.000-07:00

Last week I posted "Don't Hold Your Breath," the music video directed and filmed by Patrick Gines. Patrick and the Florida State University film department were kind enough to grant access to the online screener of his thesis project, When The Waters Rise, the film for which I wrote "Don't Hold Your Breath." Mr. Gines is currently writing the script for a full-length feature of When The Waters Rise.

When the Waters Rise from Patrick Gines on Vimeo.

"Don't Hold Your Breath" (A Music Video)

2011-03-31T13:40:00.001-07:00

A Florida State University film student, Patrick Gines, approached me early in 2010 about writing a commissioned song for his film thesis project, When The Waters Rise. Randomly, I was scheduled to play a concert at his home church in Tallahassee just a few days after his initial email. ("Random" never seems quite an accurate enough word for these sorts of moments.)

Patrick (director) and I met at the show where he handed me a draft of the script. With another couple of Florida concerts that weekend, I read the script and, in a Sarasota hotel room, wrote "Don't Hold Your Breath." Returning to Florida a few months later, with only a brief window of time to shoot, Patrick and I (mostly Patrick) made a music video - my first ever - in which a homeless man named "David" unequivocally steals the show.

DHYB will be on my new album, hopefully releasing in 2011. Until then, I hope you enjoy.

[Song recorded & produced by Andrew Osenga]

"Don't Hold Your Breath" by Eric Peters from Patrick Gines on Vimeo.

Scarce on NoiseTrade

2011-03-04T13:44:00.001-08:00

Relocation

2011-02-22T11:11:00.000-08:00

Mid-February morning, silent house, a steaming cup of fresh brewed coffee and a rare quiet moment to myself in the stillness of the early hours. I need this moment. Peering through the blurry condensation on the kitchen window overlooking my lumpy and weed-riddled Nashville backyard, it is evident that my labor yesterday pruning low-hanging walnut, hackberry and poplar branches successfully opened the understory, offering a newer, wider and brighter perspective on the whole. It is my hope that in doing so, adequate sunlight will at long last bathe the threadbare ground, offering what little grass is there the fighting chance to thicken, spread, even thrive.

As a result of the low trimming, we were obliged to relocate bird feeders along with a tin-roof birdhouse of kitschy Elvis motif to alternate locales. Wanting to keep them as close in view as would be comfortable for the birds, if only for the gift of being able to casually witness their avian pecking, flitting, chirping and occasional disagreements. These tiny, alert and nimble reminders of living abound amid shared black-oil sunflower seed and suet offerings. Repositioning one feeder near its original hackberry perch just outside the back room window, we hung the tin-roof dwelling and a moldy suet feeder along the northwestern corner of our home within the forked boughs of a leafless crepe myrtle towering above a sleeping bed of perennials. The final feeder, mere feet from the westward-facing kitchen window, we hung in a young redbud on a branch admittedly far too flimsy, too near the ground, and much too easily accessible to pillaging squirrels and preying cats. My observation point this morning, a child’s wooden chair -- short but sturdy, a veritable Lilliputian throne – accompanies the matching two-foot-tall multi-purpose table where my children eat, drink, spill, play Star Wars, color, sort beans, and carve Play-Doh. A giant in this seat, my knees uncomfortable at near chin level, I hunker down and peck away at vowels and consonants in an attempt to summon words out of the world.

A herd of Carolina chickadees, tufted titmice, white-throats, cardinals and the occasional lollygagging mockingbird, each in their naturally miraculous custom, have quickly ascertained this new location and source of food. This particular feeder, of cylindrical shape plucked from earlier retirement, has not been in use since we first moved into the house four years ago. It, like so much of natural creation, has been reclusive in hibernation, avoidance and generalized hunkering down. How wildlife adjusts with such brisk seamlessness to the blunt, enigmatic realities of winter, to unrequested change, to honing in on new and plentiful sources of sustenance with such talent and determination remains a source of great wonder to me.

Parula blue skies overhead – a psychological balm during winter’s morose lordship - the sun’s dawning light bounds and multiplies off the neighbor’s already golden yellow exterior paint causing me to wince at unexpected brightness. Squinting my eyes, the crow’s feet gather at my temples. Winter’s slow but resistant recession has begun, and every part of me approves of the transformation. Robins know, too. They sing differently in this air. With more intent, their warbles cascade with less timidity, more gallantly, with greater vigor, more musically sweeping. They know. I listen.

I myself become blurred, an unreasonable facsimile of myself beneath winter’s monochromatic gravity: graying eyes, dimming mind, exiled frustration, pent-up cabin fever, hands aching to labor, to feel soil within the creases of my palms, on fingertips and beneath nails once again; all tell-tale signs of my desire to undertake the creative act, to relocate wish and aspiration from the boughs of mere hope to that of deliverance. This longing to act, to construct, to build, to be in motion -- even to fail miserably in the attempt -- wells up in me, and the innate desire to work, to create, to bow before natural miracle, somehow resurrected and rekindled in a new locale among newfound sustenance, is a bounding source of bright illumination. I welcome the opportunity to wince at its presence, to relocate entombed ambitions and goals, to awaken from the slow pulse of hibernation, to exhume myself from the isolation of hunkering down, and at long last to listen, and summon the world out of words.

Gus

2011-02-03T14:50:00.000-08:00

Gus, a yellow gosling, celebrated few waddling days on the Mississippi red-dirt farm of my mother’s upbringing. Of the few sights the creature saw during its abbreviated life, the final was the inside of a German shepherd’s toothy mouth. As with King Charles I, heads rolled. The bird’s premature death caused great anguish among the Fortenberry children whose loyal affection to it was reciprocated by the bird.

Wilton and Lucille, father and mother to two girls and a boy, quietly and loyally resided over their 80-acre domain with much resolve and relentless hard work. Wilton, a denim overall-wearing, quiet, gentle man, was the rare soul willing to shake anyone’s hand. An equally reserved woman, Lucille spent many waking hours in the kitchen making chicken-and-dumplings from scratch, and simmering garden-grown vegetables in bacon grease the way only a southerner knows how. Homemade pound cake, temptingly kept beneath a clear glass dome, was nearly always available for consumption in her modest, yet insufferably hot kitchen. The day Wilton departed earth, nine years after Lucille, his head of Absalom hair was just as dark and full as the day he entered it.

The Fortenberry residence, a drab brown, unassuming dwelling rested atop concrete cinder blocks and clung to Rural Route 2, today Oral Church Road, barely a blacktop pavement east of Tylertown, county seat to Walthall County. With a rural Baptist church at one end of the road’s length, five homes, all belonging to Wilton and his four brothers, along its unpainted two lanes, a fire watchtower keeping sentinel above the canopy, a parcel of small ponds, and enough hollows and mixed pine and hardwood stands to adequately separate neighbors, the Fortenberrys – of whom there are many in southern Mississippi – eked out a nearly impoverished life amid agriculture fields, longleaf pines, dairy cows, white-tailed deer, thieving raccoons, burrowing possums, the usual assortment of farm cats, a lineage of mutts each named Rusty, and the one pet goose.

A lifelong farmer, Wilton regularly harbored geese on the property to aid in weed abatement. Released into blossoming cotton fields, the geese furiously consumed juvenile weeds and sprouting grass between furrowed rows, avoiding altogether the money crop. Once the cotton was harvested, the geese, of course, by then fully grown and fattened, found themselves on the losing end of an altogether different consumption. Such is a bird’s life: for the sake of others, disappear.

Wholeheartedly adopted early in life by the Fortenberry brood – as only children are able - Gus had but short time to make a lasting impression on my mother, who to this day can still recall its gruesome death and subsequent burial site. On the day of its funeral, Gus’s mangled head and body were sacredly reunited, laid side-by-side, inside a Diamond matchbox makeshift coffin. Little Paul, Sally and Janie were so stricken with Gus’s violent end that they would, with alarming regularity thereafter, exhume its remains, cry again over the murdered creature, and rebury the decaying carcass which was slowly attempting its natural return to dust only to be periodically coerced out of life’s circle in this innocent, yet morose exercise. Little wonder children should give praise and homage to a small, forgotten miracle; the animal did after all recognize the sound of the approaching school bus, eagerly anticipating their return each afternoon, and followed their every step up the three-pronged gravel driveway to the house. Such loyalty is hard to come by; it ought to receive praise.

Convenience rarely holds loyalty’s hand; one bears suffering amid struggle, the other flees at first sight of adversity. Intimately wiser, may we leave the world a fuller place than when we entered it. May loyalty and perseverance adorn our necks as peculiar plumage, ruffling at apathy, cackling at the monstrosity of fear. May it sustain us the way old-growth pines stand together, entwining roots, collectively bearing the brunt of wind, drought, fire, storm and one another’s burdens. May we acclaim and recognize those who God places in our lives just as innocently, filially and eagerly as the approaching sound of that familiar and welcome delivery vehicle of grace to our path. May we expectantly await its return, attending its every step to and from daily and momentary deliverance along the triple-pronged Path pointing the way within us: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Under The Radar Interview & Premiere of "Don't Hold Your Breath"

2011-01-27T12:50:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow/Friday 1/28/11, my latest studio interview with Under The Radar airs -- including a live studio performance of "These Three Remain" (Miracle of Forgetting, 2003) and the radio world premiere of "Don't Hold Your Breath," a song I recently wrote for the short film, When The Waters Rise.

Please help spread the word and share these links with friends, cohorts and flash-mob acquaintances. UTR is now airing on over 150 radio outlets, thru iTunes podcast, and on RadarRadio.net. You can read a transcript of a small portion of the conversation I had with show host, Dave Trout, here.

Lastly, stay tuned for the premiere of my first-ever music video of the song, "Don't Hold Your Breath." STAY TUNED!

Fury of a Cat

2011-01-19T15:25:00.000-08:00

No cat has ever been accused of berating a man. But there Phil stood, unsure whether to be embarrassed or humiliated that his 12-year-old mancoon, Gertrude, on the occasion of finding nothing to drink in its water bowl had risen in response, meowing down an upper Egypt’s worth of curses, insults and complaints upon its utterly shocked human guardian. It’s not that Phil had never heard Gertrude speak; the cat had spoken on many occasions on many varying topics. The animal was a natural-born conversationalist, after all. The two would sit together for hours on Sunday afternoons watching football and sundry sporting events, alternately ridiculing and mocking the many varied elements and hubris of the athletic world. No, the issue was that Gertie had never lashed out at poor Phil for anything, much less an empty bowl. Even on the rare occasion when Phil was delayed in getting home from work, Gertrude was patient and empathetic in her hungry waiting. Phil wondered dishearteningly at the foul environment he had created. “I had no idea cats felt so strongly.”

It was a mild, winter Sunday afternoon when the two exchanged a witty back-and-forth over the results of the weekend’s U.S. 4 x 400 team relay trials. The truth came out much the way it always does: with illumined authority. Feline spittle flying and collecting on her whiskers, Gertie looked Phil straight in the eye – I refer to it in the singular because, as a young boy, Phil had lost his right eye during a visit to his grandfather’s nutria farm in the upper reaches of Louisiana’s lower delta; a tragedy not to be recalled here – and dared him say that again. Phil, thinking the cat only half-joking about his flippant remark regarding spandex and feline baldness, went ahead and repeated the condescension. He said the one thing that no cat has, or will ever tolerate. Initially visibly hesitant, Gertie eventually stormed away, tail aloft, mentally snapping once it reached the empty water bowl. That was the final straw, so to speak, procuring from her a long and violent litany of anti-human rhetoric at the expense of poor, single-eyed Phil. No eye hath seen, no ear containeth the fury of an irate, obese cat. After finally regaining composure, Phil did the only thing he thought appropriate given the tense circumstances; he quietly brushed his teeth, swallowed his daily supplemental vitamin, and slipped beneath the flannel bed sheets, foregoing his nightly routine of leisurely bedtime reading. Complete and utter silence seemed the wisest course of action. Perhaps the morning light would bring renewed peace, forgiveness, the settling of dust and dander. At the very least, daybreak would bring rest and perspective, qualities far more advantageous than fear, qualities necessary for extracting light from shadow.

Silver Tongue : Golden Voice

2011-01-12T10:01:00.000-08:00

Soon after Chrome's release, I had what most business executives would classify as a bizarre and terrible idea for an interview. Producer Ben Shive humored me, and together we (mostly Ben) pieced together this self-indulgent mollusk of aural awkwardness. Enjoy this, the premiere, and perhaps final, episode of Silver Tongue : Golden Voice. Features a guest appearance by legendary tire salesman, Wayne Toosun.

Silver Tongue : Golden Voice

Deconstructing Reality (Or Why I Wrote "Louisiana In The Dark")

2011-01-05T18:55:00.000-08:00

PREFACE: Chrome has been in the public eye for over a year, and though I am grateful for the positive feedback, I get the distinct impression that not a few songs on the album are difficult to decipher. Though the following may, too, be abstract, it is my hope to offer clarity and insight into one (or more?) of the songs. Not that anyone specifically asked or cares. What follows are my reflections in the immediate aftermath of Hurricane Gustav, Labor Day, 2008. The resultant song is "Louisiana in the Dark."

(9/1/08, Baton Rouge, LA)

Driving south from Tennessee to Louisiana in the pitch of night, several thoughts appeared over my mind’s horizon as the darkness opened its tree-lined jowls and welcomed me into the gut of impending reality. These are no ordinary days, no ordinary circumstances, and it was far from being a casual or relaxing drive into the oncoming path of a history-making hurricane brooding immediately off Louisiana's shores. As would prove to be the case, I was also driving to a funeral.

Pulling into my parents’ Baton Rouge driveway two hours before sunrise, Hurricane Gustav broached the shores of the state by 10am, and for the next 36 hours the wind blew trees older than World War II at 45-degree angles, toppling some, maiming many others, and deconstructing a capital city. My parents went without electricity for six days. Idling generators could be heard up and down streets. We cooked baked beans out on the propane grill as the oppressive September heat offered little comfort during the daylight, and much, much less at night. The rain fell in opaque sheets filling gullies, rivers and swallowing entire street blocks. The tempest quickly turned earth to mud, and so much of which eventually dried out remains forever buried, turning gain to loss.

My father-in-law, for so many years hampered by a litany of failing health, succumbed to the most treacherous of them all early that Labor Day morning at 3:35am, a mere cruel minutes before we managed to arrive in time to stand at his hospital bedside one final time to kiss his shriveled, bony face, and to wish him a final peace and Good Hope away, away from the shrunken fuselage of body and captor Earth. The spirit is always willing.

Vehement winds, days of constant rain, the capitulation of otherwise sound, elderly trees, and the deconstruction of life; few tragic-comedies could have been scripted with more accuracy. Tragic in that the gulf-laden skies stumbled across the region with a steamroller effect, comic in terms of the utter preposterousness of kicking someone already down. In the year 2008, my wife’s family suffered the loss of three family members in the span of five dubious months. We exhale something between utter consternation and a wry chuckle when reality persistently kicks at the battered realm.

There is no ordinary day, no ordinary darkness, and we are no ordinary creatures who inhabit their space. From dust we came, to dust we return, and though we open our hope-lined hearts to its jowls, reality does its best to deconstruct every ounce of hope in our possession. But we yearn for the light that shines with far more eminence than the thickest darkness could ever swallow, and we hope that the pain of loss and grief will eventually be bearable, habitable, even an altar unto life itself. Like the wandering Israelites finally crossing the River Jordan into the long-awaited Promised Land, stack stones upon your altar; proclaim both the blessing and the ache. Remember life as the fragile construction it is, cherishing the ones still present in your life. These are no ordinary days.

Louisiana In The Dark

Sleep in peace tonight
After a long, slow fight
We lost more than sleep
More ache than a soul can weep

When the daylight shows
That all you love is gone
And the only thing that’s left
Is the tempest’s aftermath

In my father’s house
The last and lonely sound
Is a breaking heart
Louisiana in the dark

We laid your soul to rest
With the earth still wet
Some days don’t feel like grace
When there’s a hole in a once-filled space

In my father’s house
The last and lonely sound
Is a breaking heart

In my father’s eyes
Must we say goodbye
To a breaking heart
Louisiana in the dark
No more breaking hearts
Louisiana in the dark

Taking Account: 2010

2010-12-23T11:24:00.001-08:00

Plenty to be thankful for:
- Danielle
- Danielle’s cooking
- bountiful workload; great year of shows
- playing Ellis’ version of Cars on the couch with him; hearing him refer to me as “Papa”
- Monroe’s laugh; looking into his brilliant, bright eyes
- our 1925 Craftsman home
- Al Andrews and Brooke Byers @ Porter’s Call
- Young Life’s Sharp Top Cove camp
- clean bill of health
- books and eyesight to read them with
- Psalm 13
- the writings of Frederick Buechner
- history (preferably not repeating it)
- Jeremy Brett’s portrayal of Sherlock Holmes
- The Simpsons (for reasons of mirth and levity)
- homemade soup (preferably beef burgundy, shrimp & corn, or onion)
- selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors
- all 311,000 miles (and counting) on my 1996 minivan
- Louisiana seafood
- perennials
- Southwest Airlines
- golf
- chickadees
- flannel sheets
- Love that saves us fools

Umbrella T-shirt - CLEARANCE SALE

2010-12-20T13:55:00.000-08:00

There are, at last count, ten Chrome-inspired Umbrella t-shirts remaining in the Goods vault (i.e., a cardboard box). The only remaining size is adult XL, but I’m selling them for $6.00 each until they’re gone. If you’re looking for an inexpensive, comfy cotton shirt for sleeping, repairing indoor plumbing, or for meat curating, now’s the time to jump on it. Offer ends when the last shirt sells. Or when the Saints go marching in (again).

$6.00 Eric Peters T-shirt offer

Annual CD Sale

2010-11-24T13:38:00.000-08:00

It’s time for the 2010 episode of my annual CD sale. This year’s offering is my newest album, Chrome. From now through Sunday 12/19/10, get Chrome for $3.00 each when you order in bundles of five or more. I’m no mathematician, but I think it works out to be 75% off the normal price.

I WANT CHROME

And while you’re shopping you should also check out the many other fine linen albums (seven in all) I’ve recorded over the years. Lastly, no member of your family would be completely dressed without their own cottony brand new “Beep Beep” t-shirt, now available in adult and youth sizes. Visit the Goods Store to order.

New Green Beep Beep T-shirts

2010-10-25T12:22:00.000-07:00

Green -- the color on the spectrum, not the movement -- is the new version of the "Beep Beep" t-shirt. Me, I love listening to and watching birds, not shooting them; therefore that makes me mildly "green." Or so the logic implies. The hue of this 100% cotton t-shirt is that of a healthy summer lawn. The official color title is "Irish Green." Just like the Emerald City in The Wiz, the design remains the same, but the colors evolve. Who knows what color scheme might be next. Can't you feel a brand new day? Ease on down the road. Don't nobody bring me no bad news.

Sarcasm aside, I am happy to reintroduce a favorite of mine within the vast Eric Peters outer garment collection: the "Beep Beep" t-shirt in its all-new color choreography. Now available in adult (S-XL) AND youth sizes (S-L).

Click here to purchase.

Under The Radar (Episode 86)

2010-07-05T10:21:00.000-07:00

Recently, I staged a coup d’etat and successfully ousted democratic Under The Radar show host, Dave Trout. He never saw it coming, poor guy. When will people ever learn that democracy simply does not work. In the current Under The Radar episode (#86), I take over the reins and pick the entire show’s playlist and discuss why I like the songs and/or that artist, many of whom you might recognize.

Also, hear me perform a live version of my new, unrecorded song titled “The Old Year (of Denial)”. Under The Radar Exclusives.

Lastly, if you hurry your bones, there’s a chance to win an autographed copy of Chrome and an autographed, limited edition Eric Peters t-shirt.

Listen now.

An Old Song In A New Commercial

2010-04-06T07:02:00.000-07:00

A song I wrote a few years ago, "Epic", was recently used in the New Orleans Entrepreneur Week ad campaign. If you'd like to watch the commercial, you should click here.

Or here to read a bit more.

Under The Radar Tour Video

2010-02-13T19:24:00.001-08:00

Here's a look at what my recently completed Under the Radar tour looked like from the perspective of a handheld, pedestrian autobot video camera. You'll need a HD Blu-Ray player, 101.1xf digital Dolby surround, 3 MPGs of DOS-RAM, and a pair of Barbie 3-D glasses to see it. Mostly consisting of non-performance activities, you will quickly notice that Dave Trout and I spent a lot of time eating food of the edible and tasty variety, something we Louisianians and Chicagoans have in common. Enjoy.

Under The Radar Non-Concert Tour Video

Video clip of a new song: "The Old Year"

2010-02-07T19:55:00.000-08:00

Here's a live video clip of a new song I wrote a couple of weeks ago, the first song I've written in over a year. This clip is from a show I played in Lockport, IL on 1/23/10. Cheers to the new year, goodbye to the old one. Bring on the songs.

The Old Year (of Denial)

New Swag!

2010-02-05T18:37:00.000-08:00

Do you want Chrome for your upper torso? The latest, greatest EP t-shirt is now available. Umbrella design on cardinal red, 100% cotton shirt. Purchase yours in the Eric Peters Goods Webstore.

Chicago in January

2010-01-23T08:09:00.000-08:00

I'm in greater Chicago for ten days playing a run of eight shows. After the final Chicago show tonight (Saturday), I drive to Michigan for three more shows before returning to Nashville to, at last, see my family, and bask in a slightly warmer, sunnier clime. *I will not complain about being away from home; after all, I did sign up for this.*

Gray skies are a fixture here during the winter months, and, from my limited observation, it sure permeates just about everything and everyone around. Even a slice of deep dish pizza, or a Portillo's chili cheese dog holds less enthusiastic sway over me. Slightly less. After seven days of mostly overcast weather, I find myself short tempered at mostly frivolous things; like putting gas in the car, trying to access the internet, making a U-turn, or trying to write lyrics to a new song that I still don't know what I'm getting at. Mundane, meaningless things that draw out some latent angst. Yet I cannot tell you why any of this is. My best guess is that the mind and body are telling me I miss home, wife, family. And, yes, a clear blue sky wouldn't hurt the old attitude, either.

Harlem Avenue has become a familiar layout. I can tell you where the nearest McDonald's, Target, sushi restaurant, RedBox movie rental outlet, and cheapest gas are located. A hotel room bed, as nice as this place is, is a far cry from my 3" memory foam bed. And then there's the boundless energy of those two young boys, who probably have no idea, or care, that I've been gone. But I know I'm gone, and am quite eager to see them again, to lay eyes on familiar people, things, streets, trees. Home is familiarity drenched with need. It's a place I could use some of right now.

Merry Christmas

2009-12-24T14:11:00.000-08:00

My very best wishes to each of you this Christmas.

May we receive no lumps of coal, only the diamonds within. May our identity be found in the True Identity. And may our brand new wall calendar fill with possibilities.

Cheers to a bright and hope-filled New Year.

The Countdown to 300,000, FINALE!

2009-12-10T08:11:00.000-08:00

300,000 miles is now official and complete. Taken at 12:14pm CST. Nashville, TN.

In my neighborhood on the way to an auto parts store - appropriately enough - to buy a replacement bulb for the passenger-side headlight.

Is 400,000 in the cards?

The Countdown to 300,000, Pt. V

2009-12-10T08:05:00.000-08:00

299,298.

I can cut the tension in the air with a knife.

The Countdown to 300,000, Pt. IV

2009-12-07T10:29:00.000-08:00

299,900.

Another dumb photographic travel-log moment. Taken late Sunday night, westbound on I-40 between Oak Ridge and Nashville, TN. I am tremendously weary by the end of this trip owing to the fact that I've gotten very little sleep over the previous 48 hours. Thanks to the keep-awake power of mandible motion, symbolically represented by a styrofoam coffee cup full of chewed, used sunflower shells, I arrive at my Christmas light-lit house, eyes red and burning, mouth dry from salt intake. Alas, there weren't quite enough miles on this final leg to flip the Big Six-Digit Switch. That will have to wait until my next cliffhanger episode.

I sense the event will occur sometime in the next couple of days, especially since I have to sub early the next morning, and that's easily another 40-45 miles.

The Countdown to 300,000, Pt. III

2009-12-07T08:48:00.000-08:00

299,500.

Despite foul weather in southern West Virginia southbound on I-77. I agree, there is no logical or safe reason on earth I should ever have taken this picture, especially considering the driving conditions, but extra-ordinary milestones demand prompt attention. Notice: "Maintenance Required"fading green to yellow.

The Countdown to 300,000, Pt. II

2009-12-07T07:40:00.000-08:00

299,000.

In a gas station parking lot somewhere in east Tennessee on my way to Beckley, WV. 1000 miles to go. Good chance I'll spin all six dials on this trip. If not, 2009 certainly looks to be the year.

The Countdown to 300,000

2009-12-03T12:46:00.000-08:00

298,929. That's what my odometer reads. For the next few weeks I will entertain you by cataloging the final countdown to what some consider a fairly major milestone in in the automotive industry: 300,000 miles on an original engine.

I bought a baby blue 1996 Honda minivan in the spring of 2000. Mind you, this was six years BEFORE I became a father, if that tells you how interesting I am. It had a mere 45,000 miles at the time I signed the papers (and paid too much, I might add). I distinctly remember turning 100,000 miles somewhere underneath an interstate overpass in south Mississippi. The car sat idle at exactly 200,000 miles in a friend's driveway in Houston, TX, the very same trip that my wife and I bought that little red 1965 VW Karmann Ghia coupe. That particular milestone was six years ago.

There's a healthy chance Oddy and I will clock another 1,000 miles, turning 300K "together" somewhere on yet another trip to who-knows-where in the coming days. If I'm not on slippery, wintry terrain, and it's safe for me to pull over, I plan on taking a photo for posterity sake, and to send to the manufacturer. I wonder if Honda will care. They should. I don't know how many vehicles today reach that level of distance endurance, but surely it can't be a high percentage, though they aspire to it.

"What's your secret, Eric?" Since you didn't ask, I will now bore you with a few details: very regular oil & filter changes (there's something manly about getting your hands that filthy), two timing belt replacements (read, expensive), one major oil leak repair (doubly expensive), and enough washes, waxes and interior cleanings to make a professional maid service proud. The car, for what it's worth, still looks like a million bucks, minus a few bucks, of course. I'm slightly compulsive about aesthetics, just ask my wife. By no means am I a handyman or a mechanic, but at the very least I can change the oil in my car and mower, landscape a lawn, wipe soiled baby bottoms, vacuum, and take out the trash. All in a single leap.

Holiday Sale

2009-12-01T11:31:00.001-08:00

This holiday season, take advantage of some special deals at www.ericpeters.net

Chrome (2009) or Scarce (2006) -- $6.99 per copy (regular price $13.00)
Chrome + Revenge of the Birds combo -- $13.99 (regular price $17.00)
Holiday Pack: Chrome + Scarce + Revenge of the Birds + The Only Thing -- $24.99 (regular price $38.00)

Don't forget about the nifty Volkswagen "Beep Beep" t-shirts (sizes S, M, L or XL) or the EP Box Set (6 full-length CDs)

Prices good through 12/31/09. Available in limited quantities.

Brad Pitt's Butt

2009-11-20T10:52:00.000-08:00

We're watching the movie Troy in the Ancient World History classes. I'm, effectively, watching it three times in a row. I am humored by the director's decision to show Brad Pitt's (aka, Achilles) buttocks several times throughout the movie. Humorous and crafty of them. I can hear them now: "A single cheek of that man's butt will sell more tickets than Orlando Bloom's peachfuzz mustache could ever hope to do." No mustache will ever have a prayer against a rear-end.

Names Unanswered

2009-11-11T05:46:00.000-08:00

Happy Veterans Day to everyone.

If you are, ever were, or ever plan on being, in our nation's accomplished military, please accept my humble civilian thanks for your service to this civilization, to this nation, to my family. If you are currently serving overseas, or are putting yourself in harm's way, may your name return answered with every roll call. Blessings and utmost safety to you.

We are grateful for every single one of you.

Band Fest

2009-11-10T09:52:00.000-08:00

The school where I have been substitute teaching this fall offers a Rock Band class as part of its curriculum. When I first learned of it I immediately thought of Jack Black and his fantastic antics in the movie, School of Rock. Yesterday afternoon, here at school as part of an annual tradition, the Rock Band classes (two high school bands, one middle school) each played a set of songs they'd learned this semester. A production company was hired, they assembled a stage along with an above-average sound system. There, underneath the sun's full scale lighting (sorry, no blue gels here), I got a glimpse into what makes some of these students really tick, what makes them bloom. I loved every second of that privilege.

It was a wonder to witness students, a few of whom I have slowly become acquainted with during my three months here, reflect the interior passions which rarely, if ever, get uncorked in the more rigid academic setting where many of them struggle mightily. For once, it was nice to exit "my" world, and enter theirs.

I especially appreciated the accurate version of "Sweet Child o' Mine". Yes, that's Guns-n-Roses, ye fans of old.

Umbrella Pointers

2009-11-04T07:30:00.000-08:00

I'm covering the Inca, Maya, and Aztec civilizations this week in Ancient World History. On a tiny Rand McNally wall map of South/Central America, in the absence of an adequate implement, I have been using an umbrella for a pointer. Bing Crosby, perhaps, would be proud. Didn't he dance with an umbrella? Or was that Danny Kaye?

Either way, I'm certainly not doing any physical dancing, tap or otherwise, but more like I'm dancing around the obscure fact that I know/knew next to nothing about these civilizations prior to taking this job. I'm barely a step ahead of the students. Is that normal for teachers? Is that wrong? Machu Picchu, here I come.

Out and About in the World

2009-10-31T09:46:00.000-07:00

I played my first shows in well over a month this past weekend, and, as expected, I was as rusty as sheet metal set adrift in the Amazon River basin. It was so good to play live, in front of actual, real live people again.

I tried playing as much new stuff from Chrome as I could fit in. After all, I have yet to tour with the new record, and at some point I have to summon the courage to start playing these songs in front of people. Sunday morning's event was small and casual in Birmingham, AL for a kind group of folks who allowed me the dignity to publicly fumble my way through a smorgasbord of the new material. They clapped, nonetheless, and requested an encore. Or at least one man did, anyhow. A pleasant surprise.

That night I played in Huntsville, AL for a large group of high school students in a building that more closely resembled a hunting lodge what with the stuffed heads of sundry wild animals decorating the walls. A comfy and snug venue. On stage with me was a frumpy, red upright piano which reminded me of the piano in Ben Shive's beautiful song "Out of Tune", along with a rusted 5-foot-tall metal rooster which looked like it had been constructed out of my great grandfather's backyard chicken coop. I sang to a group of adults and mostly high school students, many of whom had their faces buried in the glow of their cellphone screens texting away the evening. LOL. JK. :)

Monday morning bright and early, I was back at my day job, temporary though it may be, posing as a high school History and Ethics teacher. I had been dreading the student-led parent-teacher conferences looming at the end of the week, and, though the event was intimidating, I felt a natural ease in speaking positive words into each student's life. It is my regretful belief that we (all of us) fail to speak into one another's lives the things - the Good things - we see in people, loved ones, family, friends, even strangers. These things should and must be spoken, and most days we need to be reminded that we are worth so very much to someone, that we are needed, and that we matter. Some of these students, I fear, fail to receive such affirmation at home, the blinding focus being on letter grades. I may be one crummy teacher and class facilitator, but I recognize a natural desire in me to build people up. For me in high school - and really any other time in life - encouraging words and observations about my character, about the traits that make me who I am, have been a balm if for no other reason than to make me walk a little taller knowing that an adult saw something good in me.

At least once during the conference I noticed a mother's face and outward demeanor visibly change as I (along with the other teachers) told their daughter or son how glad I was that they were in that particular class, how much they offer and bring to the table, possibly in spite of their low self-esteem, learning challenges, or what not. The pinnacle of the two days of meetings came late on Friday when a mother whose son obviously struggled on a particular history project, seemed prepared to pinch my head off as a result of a "D" on said assignment. I understand her deep frustration, but I left that meeting hollow and in a daze while recalling that I never had the chance, as I had with the other students, to tell this boy how much I appreciate his presence in 4th period, how much I am grateful for his offering me his respect, even as I am a temporary part of his school year. All this sophomore heard in that hour-long meeting was negativity from his mother, and for that I left deeply distressed. I hope I can bring these experiences to mind as I myself am the parent at one of these conferences, perhaps frustrated by my son's academic record, but able to remember that the sentences of the heart matter far more than any letter grade.

"Mister Peters"

2009-10-21T19:46:00.000-07:00

This fall I am temping as a substitute teacher, filling in for my neighbor, who is on maternity leave. I teach - I use that word in the loosest sense - high school sophomores and seniors the subjects of Ancient World History and Ethics. I am happy to report that my collection of Mr. Rogers sweater jackets are the perfect accoutrement to my new role. Now, if only I could smoke my Dunhill in class.

The students respectfully refer to me as "Mr. Peters", and I think, Oh God, I've gone to the other side. Daily, I am reminded that I am more grown up now than I ever wanted to be, especially when I recall that I used to be the student goofing off, counting ceiling tiles during class thinking, Lady, who made you boss, and why the hell should I care about the Pythagorean theorem?

So Monday through Friday go I, a mere mortal, cravat tied around my neck, cup of coffee in hand, and curiosity in my heart -- Will this be the day I finally break through to the kids and they fall hopelessly in love with history? Hold onto that dream, pal.

So, yeah, I grade homework assignments, projects, tests, class participation, the whole nine yards. I even fill out tardy slips and hold students accountable for missed homework assignments. I'm mostly an easy teacher, the kind you could (and probably would) have walked all over due to my semi-spineless facade. I am and always have been an easy target, in that way. The kids are mostly enjoyable, respectful, can be moody as the day is long, but are good, genuine kids, and most days I enjoy their company. I only wish I weren't inheriting someone else's curriculum, instead able to devise and construct my own. Maybe next time.

Chrome on iTunes

2009-10-15T09:31:00.001-07:00

Chrome is now available on iTunes, that Apple technological monstrosity. If you haven't yet, but would be willing to leave some positive feedback/reviews there, I would greatly appreciate it. With all due respect, please avoid such wordings as "Eric Peters is the best musician ever." No one will ever believe you, especially me.
Thanks, guys.

Chrome podcast

2009-09-30T18:27:00.001-07:00

I'm pleased to announce that I've written a tutorial for all 11 songs on Chrome. In the form of a podcast, it details the specifics of why I wrote each song, my thought process(es) behind them, and sheds some light on my enigmatic, ofttimes abstract way of writing. I hope it will help you decipher some meanings and shed a ray of light from my cloudy brain to yours. Go here: Rabbit Room Chrome podcast

The Blue Indian interview

2009-09-15T17:12:00.000-07:00

Read The Blue Indian interview

Ad in Sept./Oct. '09 Relevant Magazine

2009-08-26T20:08:00.000-07:00

Check out the massive ad for Chrome in the upcoming issue (with Jeff Tweedy/Wilco on the cover) of Relevant Magazine. Really amazing.

Many hatfuls of thanks to Larry of Hoboken, NJ for making this happen. Dude buys me primo ad space in a major magazine - full color no less - then treats me to dinner and a beer while he was in town on release day. I, in turn, hand him a $2 copy of Chrome in return. Seems like a weak trade to me. Grace is hard to accept, especially when you know you can't afford an equal or adequate gift in return.

One Week

2009-08-18T05:09:00.000-07:00

Dear you:
Chrome officially releases in one week on 8/25/09. After that, I have no idea what to do with this blog. Since I'm obviously such a prolific writer, constantly twittering, full of ceaseless, rapid-fire information regarding all manner of things, I wondered if you might have, and offer, any suggestions as to what I should do with Middle Of The Storm? Continue in some, non-album update form? Turn it into a Here's-what-I-did-with-Ellis-today blog? Pictures of my home projects before and after? Lawncare with Eric Peters? Or should I let it die and cancel the whole thing altogether?

Any suggestions?

Thanks for following the making of Chrome. For you Patron Saints, your CDs are in the mail; you should receive them any second now. For everyone who pre-ordered, your CDs will go out later this week/early next week. Many thanks!

Chrome Release Day & Pre-Orders!

2009-07-11T09:16:00.000-07:00

8/25/09

.:: Chrome ::.

At last. Please mark your calendars, Tivos, TV trays, refrigerators, forearms, iPhones, and/or bicycles for August 25, 2009, official release day of Chrome.

Pre-order your copy today in the Goods Section.

From now until 8/25/09, you can get Chrome for $10.00 each, two copies for $15.00, or, if you order in increments of five or more, for just $8.00 each. Also, in my ongoing campaign to occupy the recently vacated Alaskan governorship, we're offering Chrome + Revenge of the Birds (1 CD + 1 book) together for $15.00. Your kids will be mesmerized by the mini-epic tale of Geolly Chester and his wily band of outer space bird-battling adventurers, and you, in turn, will have 11 new songs to dive into, surely a win-win situation.

If you are one of my Patron Saints -- by the way, it's still not too late to join the party -- you will receive your two signed copies, complete with your name in the liner notes, by/on August 11, 2009. Thank you!!

Side note: For those who prefer to purchase their music via download (as opposed to buying the physical copy), please allow me to make an artist's sales pitch: Chrome artwork/graphic design is going to be more than a little swell, thanks to the diligent, insightful and skilled artisanship of David Van Buskirk. Early on, I cast the overall album concept to David, and he ran to great lengths developing it, turning corners I didn't expect. The environmentally friendly (a.k.a, "digi pack") CD packaging further develops and illuminates the narrative of the songs themselves, precisely to which art and humanity should aspire -- tell stories to illuminate the greater Story. I'm eager for you to discover the themes in both the music and the accompanying art design, as they are complements to one another. This, I propose, is why you should purchase the physical representation of this album, not a mere download. Instantaneous digital downloads, though I purchase them myself from time to time, are cold, sterile, lifeless X's and O's, lacking a certain heart, gravitas, and are deficient in spirit. Merely my opinion. Either way, I do not yet know when the album will be available on iTunes or at other online distributors. Eventually it will make its way to these venues, but not right away.

Mixing 101

2009-07-08T13:59:00.000-07:00

This week began with the very detailed process known as mixing. This stage is slow, deliberate, and, for me at least, involves hours of sitting quietly and twiddling my thumbs while Ben (mixer) dials in a hi-hat, or a floor tom, or an electric guitar in terms of equalization (high, mid, low frequencies) and volume as each track courses through the song. Sometimes we want to hear a magnificent pedal steel part to shimmer and stand out at certain moments, so Ben automates the digital software to do so. Sometimes individual words need a little extra volume to cut through the music so it can be heard and understood. Mixing does that. On and on goes the list, and includes each and every instrument on each and every song. Generally speaking, it is customary for a song mix to take up all eight hours of a work day. The process is slow, laborious, and can be mind-numbingly boring if you have no idea what's actually taking place or if you've been listening to the recycled sound of a soloed kick drum for consecutive minutes at a time.

But this is also the phase where the body of a song ultimately takes on its final, curvaceous shape. The challenge for Ben, as I see it, is that he is already so wrapped up in the project that it might be difficult to approach the tracks with a new perspective. Having never heard the song or any of its recorded tracks before, a separate mixing engineer has the advantage of coming at the songs with fresh, unbiased ears. Clarity is a gift. That's not to say anything negative of Ben, or my doubting of his abilities in this department. If the money were in the budget, we would both prefer to hire someone to mix the album. But that is not in the cards, and I believe Ben will, in the end, knock it out of the park. Pray for Ben's clarity in this process, and for patience with his oft-crashing software. We've got a mastering (the final step, the icing on the cake) date on the books: 23 July 2009.

More on an official release date SOON! Cross my heart.

Please Believe Me

2009-06-27T19:36:00.000-07:00

I know you may not believe me, but we are oh so close to mixing the album. We worked hard last week, re-recorded a couple of vocals (see previous post), added some really fun instrumentation (ukulele, hammer dulcimer, keys, new BGVs), got a good hold on most of the songs on the whole, and ate sushi on back to back days. Thank heaven for California rolls, Unami and soy sauce. Next week's rumors I'm hearing are of harmonica and acoustic guitar overlays.

Well over 365 days into this laborious process, I cross-my-heart promise you I am, indeed, making a record of eleven songs. Please believe me. If I can ever figure out how to add a music/audio player to www.ericpeters.net or to this Middle of the Storm blog, I will do it. Not that you require proof...

I Had To Tell You... That I'm Sleepy

2009-06-22T13:33:00.000-07:00

I'm dragging today, and am fighting my daily bout with the post-1pm lethargy (a good reason my friends call me "Pappy") as Ben and I are up at the studio adding touches to "I Had To Tell You". The A/C is on today, and we give thanks. I'm struggling to stay focused and to engage myself in the process of listening closely and contributing ideas. I've avoided the computer until now so as to force myself to actively participate. It's not that I'm disinterested, but that these hot summer afternoons absolutely zap what little energy I already possess. Must. Keep. Eyes. Open.

Ben added a keys pad (i.e., a layering, bedrock, sonic glue) to the first verse of this song. Something resonant and binding has been missing here and we're trying to uncover what it is by experimenting with sounds. Also, he and I have both realized that my lead vocal on this song is not very good. It is too dark, it tries way too hard (who me?), and is not at all that convincing. I will re-sing it. The more times I've listened to it today, the grumpier I've grown. Must re-do. Take that, communism. The pads Ben is adding is helping set the tone of the song a lot more than my stunningly smooth 12-string guitar playing could ever do.

Ben is overdubbing more hammer dulcimer over a piano part he played a few moments ago. We're going for a Raggedy-Andy sort of sad to prop up the lyrics that include these lines:

I've had chains wrapped around me for the last seven years
I crowned myself Messiah since Messiah was not near
I shook my fist at heaven, I told God to go to hell
There was so much that I had to say, but had kept it to myself

These are potentially expensive words. I see how they could easily be misinterpreted or taken out of context without knowing the story's backdrop. Hence, they may be expensive in that customers might want their money back after purchasing a "christian" album expressing such sentiments. I have no idea how the song will be received, as it is hopefully as honest in its narration as the true story on which it is based. The reality of humanity is that we owe to grace as great debtors. In our worst moments, we curse the blessing of our own skin, our own breathing in and out, the universe and Maker alike. In our best moments, we remain desperately in need of that which is beyond our frailty or capacity to bring anything good to the Mercy Table. I struggled for weeks, in the process of writing it, to allow the main character the red-blooded freedom to tell God, "I hated you that day." That is not the sort of cheap, plastic, pre-fab line that floats easily upon the waters of this industry. I am trying to be as honest as I can, since I so personally and closely related to the story of my friend's losing and losing, while in the midst of such tremendous anger, hostility towards God, loss of income and business, found himself spewing those very words with all the venom and bile his hard, tired heart could muster. And in the process, God still showed up with all the mercy and hope He ever possessed. And redemption occurs like fire through the open windows of a dry and brittle house. So it is with beggars and new beginnings. The story of any one of us is, in some measure, the story of us all.

These are the stories I hope to tell you.

Hammer Dulcimer In An 85-degree Studio

2009-06-19T13:41:00.000-07:00

Ben is currently playing hammer dulcimer on "I Had To Tell You". The overhead ceiling fan is spinning, usually a no-no while recording with such sensitive microphones, but since it is a brisk 85 -degrees indoors, we had to act responsibly. Be merciful, oh air movement across cardioid patterns. We tried turning off the central air and fan for the first few takes of this summer afternoon session, but our misery and sweat got the best of us, and, henceforth, we've thrown recording caution to the wind by allowing these invisible cooling breaths to traipse across microphonic brow. So be it.

Earlier, Ben overlayed hammer dulcimer over an Andrew Osengan electric guitar part on "You Don't Have The Strength". Feels like a Crowded House tune. I definitely like this.

More journalistic endeavours next week. This is EP with the latest Chrome scoop, over and out.

Lawn Care with Eric Peters

2009-06-09T08:09:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I mowed and weedeated (weedate?) Ben Shive's lawn. His yard is fairly gigantic, and it made me sweat. Afterwards, I met him - by then, 3pm - for Mexican lunch. Mental note: never again eat cheese dip immediately after three hours of yard work. An unpleasant afternoon ensued.

That is all.

French horn & Prep-mixing

2009-06-06T07:01:00.000-07:00

A mostly slow week for me on the album front, but we did manage to lure Aaron Sands over to The Beehive Friday afternoon to play French horn on three songs. Though I've heard Aaron's name mentioned here and there over the years, I've never actually met him. As it turns out, we're neighbors.

Sidebar: I have been wanting to find a place for French horn on one of my albums ever since I first heard Vigilantes of Love's eclectic, and great, 1993 album, Killing Floor, on which it is a featured part on the song, "Eleanor." My hopes for such a moment were never realized until yesterday, thanks to Ben and Aaron, who allowed me the opportunity to see if what my ear has been hearing - or wanting to hear - for months might actually transpire on tape. I hope so.

Ben has been working on prep-mixing the songs, a somewhat tedious process in which he tunes vocals, both lead and background, the various instrumentation in need of it, cleans up all the "punches" (where two or more recorded takes run awkwardly together), and gets a general mix going. This step allows the person mixing the album - in our case, Ben himself - to have a clean, prepped slate to work with to start making all the pieces work together. Mixing will involve weeding out parts, decluttering sections in a song so as not to be overly busy or crowded, and creating the sonic atmosphere in which the essentials of the song itself will rest.

We are estimating a mastering date - the final process before going to the duplication plant - sometime in mid-late June. I'm going to try and figure out a real, live, actual release date in the coming days. Targeting late July or early August. Here's to good vibes, smooth mixing and a soon-to-be Chrome release date!

Percussion Rhymes with ?

2009-05-29T10:35:00.000-07:00

Today was full-on yard work, so I've not had a chance yet to post about yesterday's proceedings, which were good.

After spending two early morning hours at the Apple Store trying to get my iBook G4 (yes, it's old) back up and running (but not before first believing with such hope that I had managed to spare all my iCal (booking), address book and *possibly* iTunes library in the hard drive cleanout of '09). It was not the case, and all is gone. I went from euphoria to a sick stomach in the time it takes to click a button. Still ill from losing the information all-too pertinent to my business, I managed to meet Ben at The Beehive by 10:30am where Steve Hindalong - of The Choir fame - was to hold court with his oodles of percussive instruments and the great faces he makes while playing them. I was honored Steve was willing to do it since he had no idea who or what I was. A very nice man who is very skilled at what he does. Steve *listens* to the songs. Not many players actually tune in to lyrics while they're recording, but he does and proceeds to pick out the percussive instruments according to the lyrical image being painted at the time, in an effort to further color the scene. Brilliant. Steve is also a wearer of bright green socks; that, I appreciate immensely. I originally thought we'd get Steve for a couple of hours, on two, maybe three songs, but he was quite generous, working for several hours and playing on nearly the entire record. He played on 9 of the 11 songs. How great of him.

After Steve departed, I added a few background vocal parts we had forgotten to record on "In the Movies", and then called it a day. The Shives and Peters later ate fried chicken tenders together that night. 4 adults, 6 kids -- you get the idea. It was a good day, not an especially productive week on the album front.

I hear rumors that we will begin mixing next week. This is a good thing. That means all/most of the actual recording is finished. But then again, I think I've said that before, so you probably shouldn't pay me much attention. *Insert chuckle*

Nearly Complete!

2009-05-22T19:32:00.000-07:00

Ben and I returned to work this week after a couple of weeks off (I had shows in Louisiana). It was good to be away from the album for a bit. Those last few days prior to our break were exhausting and punishing in their humbling.

We picked back up on Monday and Tuesday with more background vocals. My old compatriot, Andrew Peterson, was kind enough to drop by and sing harmony on "Run Down". We ate (yet more) Mexican food, this time with AP, Ben, and Mr. Paul Eckberg, who played drums on half the album.

Wednesday was Hammond B-3 day at Ben's friend's place. It is still hard for me to dislike B-3, try though I might. Ben worked hard for three hours recording keys, whereupon we disconnected his portable system and reconvened, Subway sandwiches in hand, back at The Beehive. After lunch, I sang more BGVs, and we convinced Andrew Peterson to come back up to the studio to help us sing a "gang" vocal (sort of like a choir, sans church robes) to a counter-melody part I had written/imagined early on for "Come Back A Fool". Though I wish we would have had another three or four folks in attendance, it seemed to work well enough. The more voices, the more variety, the better.

Thursday was another day of overdubs with Gabe Scott. We all met at 11am, and he played pedal steel on "Louisiana in the Dark" and "I Had to Tell You", and lastly played lap steel on "Reality Came Crashing Down". Good, very good stuff. Ben played accordion on "Louisiana", also. This was a good day. Doing overdubs (the ear candy) is extremely gratifying because you have the chance and the privilege to witness your songs come alive in the hands of talented musicians. When it comes to recording an album, this is easily the fun stuff.

After Gabe left, I sang a few more final BGVs, and came up with a spur-of-the-moment counter-melody to the outro of "You Don't Have the Strength". So very glad that moment happened when it did.

Today, Friday, was brief, but good in its progress. I met Ben at David Henry's studio at 1pm, where David played cello and violin on three songs: "Sad to Watch You Wave", "Come Back a Fool", "Traveling Onion". David and Ben seem to be similar spirits, both talented and musically astute fellows. I've spoken of my deficiency in this before, but these guys easily engage in that musical language that I know little to nothing about. I tried not to beat myself up too much, and simply to listen for ideas. They were kind enough to accept my suggestions, something I am still terrified to offer up in the presence of obviously skilled musicians and producers. David knocked it out of the park. He was kind enough to brew me a pot of coffee, too. Brilliant.

Folks - or whomever, if anyone, is reading this - I can't wait for you to hear this album. It's shaping up nicely, thanks in very large part to producer Ben Shive. I'm glad I get to call him "friend." As soon as I figure out a release date, I will start taking pre-orders for Chrome. More work, including french horn overdubs, hopefully, next week. Stay tuned, please.

Lastly, happy birthday, Danielle!

Background Vocal Mania

2009-04-29T19:18:00.000-07:00

This week in the studio has consisted of a steady diet of inexpensive Mexican food, expensive Straybucks coffee, snappy one-liners, new commercial jingles, and, of course, lots of background vocals ("BGVs", as they are often called). With headphones stirrupped atop my noggin, "Ben, I need more reverb." became a common phrase ushering forth from my mouth as I wailed and whispered my way across six of the eleven songs. Ben has monster ears for the task - this is a compliment - and has no fear of layering vocal pads (the long, sometimes subtle "ooohs" and "aaahs") so rich and thick that they might as well be glue holding the entire thing together. I like this.

Like recording the main vocals, I am equally worn out from the creative aspect of the ornate and sometimes delicate process of singing background vocals. We are making a lot of the parts up as we go along, and it is, like singing the main melody, intense in its acute focus and concentration. Part of my problem is that I don't like to work, but part of it is that my overall energy level is already running near empty what with a two-month, and a two-year old at home. I'm lame for passing the buck, I know. I'm not sure that I possess the mental capacity of late to take a step back to see my life, my everyday life, for the mystery, the fathomless chasm, that it is. Lately, I'm all too eager to crawl into bed by day's end.

If ever I thought I was a great singer, recording background vocals is a firm reminder that I am most certainly not. Walking away from our Wednesday session - our last one for a couple of weeks - I was humbled by my lack of talent in this department. There are notes of a chord that Ben hears that I simply cannot hear, and cannot get my voice to manufacture without much help and guidance, without much ado, and without much consternation and frustration on my part. I departed the scene on Wednesday feeling pretty beat up, not by Ben, but by my own mean, perfectionist self. Hello, acedia. Nice to see you again.

So goes the process of making this, my first album, as a full-fledged parent (Scarce [2006] was recorded and released before our oldest boy, Ellis, was born). For this reason, Chrome carries a grittier weight to it that I have never known in the making of any of the previous albums. Now more than ever, I sense a focused desire for the album to "succeed" (both monetarily and artistically), with a gut feeling that if the thing should fail, then so too goeth my career of holding on, and holding on, and hoping. The economy is a joke, and I'm certainly guilty of paranoia and melodrama - this is only music, after all - but I can only hope that the kind, believing and generous folks who have held up my arms in this process, who have patroned this project with their hard-earned cash, will be proud of me, and will be glad they invested the money they did (we reached the halfway point = $7700!) once it is all said and done. Here's hoping for a June release...

A Milestone

2009-04-24T20:42:00.000-07:00

I can't believe how famous this blog has been.

Today we reached (rather, punched) a milestone: I finished singing vocals on the record (The final song was "The Traveling Onion"), and we managed to finish comping it before both our brains exploded. Or melted. Into delirium I nearly caved. It is a mighty good feeling to be done with this major step in the process. Next week we begin background vocals (far more enjoyable), which I'm hoping to enlist the help of my friends, and then to finish the instrumentation. After that, we mix the album. Then, mastering. Then, off to the duplication plant. Like crossing the sea and finally sighting land. The end is near.

One More Day of Singing (Hallelujah)

2009-04-23T21:30:00.000-07:00

Sorry (to the pair of you following this blog) I've missed a couple of days in the journaling of Chrome. Since I last wrote, it's only been more of the same: singing the songs eight or nine times through, then going through line by line, even word by word, weeding out the chaff from the cream of the crop (to marry idioms). The good news, which I am thrilled to report, is that there is one final song to sing ("The Traveling Onion"), then it's off to BGV (background vocal) land, and, from there, more sweet luscious overdubs. Ben and I have plans for: strings, percussion, pedal steel, keys, accordion and french horn. For these, I can't wait. Tomorrow is Friday, as fine a day as any to wrap up vocals.

I sang "Reality Came Crashing Down" this afternoon, and I gave myself a very hard time with its execution. I suppose I expect too much of myself, what with all my grand delusions. But this song, to me, feels like a rare moment at the crux of something sad and bright waiting to walk through the door. Reality doesn't always follow the course of my dreams, as was the case with my voice this afternoon. We'll listen back to today's work first thing tomorrow morning to determine if I was being hyper-critical or if there was any truth to the mental-flogging I gave myself while singing the song. We'll see....

On Being Eric Petered

2009-04-13T12:09:00.000-07:00

Yet more singing and vocal comping yesterday and today. Today's song was "Run Down", yesterday's was "I Had To Tell You". As of this moment, we are over halfway done with getting final vocals, and for that I'm very glad.

Andrew Peterson dropped by and helped me and Ben polish off a couple of key lines in the second verse of "I Had To Tell You", which I was thankful for, though hesitant to accept. The reason I say I hesitated is because I am proud, too proud of my individualism, preferring to proclaim that I was the one who started and finished a song in its entirety with no help from another living soul. But I believe their attentive contributions to the overall project will offer stabilization rather than weakness.

In other news, I woke up with the ticklish beginnings of something highly unwelcome this morning, and tonight feels as though it's a full-on cold. Having gulped a dose of Ny-Quil no more than 30 minutes ago, my head is now a floating miasma of brick and misery. There is no air flow through my left nostril. Perfect timing to get sick. We didn't work on the album for two solid months during the peak of winter, and during that time I was as healthy as a goose on Thanksgiving eve. Now that it's time to sing for posterity's sake, I catch a cold. I've been Eric Petered. I have this thing about my name; you see, it can be used as a verb. When something goes wrong at the most inopportune time, you can say you've been "Eric Petered". Tonight, I sleep like an unburdened, inanimate sack of bones.

More Singing

2009-04-09T12:05:00.000-07:00

Yesterday and today were two more days of singing and comping vocals. Nothing fancy here, just the repetitive, mentally wearing work of picking out the best lines and words from each take, and magically melding them together (comping) into one final vocal track. That, after singing and re-singing a song multiple times (eight passes, on average). This is nothing like digging ditches (a job I've held before), but it will leave you mentally fried.

It was a brief day at the studio, but we're trying to take advantage of every free moment Ben has to spare in order to get this thing closer to wrapped up. Today we comped the vocals for "I Will Go With You". Yesterday I sang and we comped the vocals for "You Don't Have the Strength". Next week, we should have three straight, uninterrupted days of singing, which makes me tired to even think about, but hopefully I won't get sick between now and then (PLEASE no!), so we can knock out another healthy chunk of the vocals, which would put us on the path to the final light. Singing vocals is the scariest part for me. Sucky vocals equals a sucky album, no matter how cool the artwork, no matter how original the music, no matter how masterful the songwriting. I cringe whenever I listen to some of my early solo stuff because the vocals weren't given the attention to detail that they so desperately needed. Some of my earlier recorded material could have been so much better had I known to not settle. Live and learn.

Lastly, I hate forwarded emails, but my mom sent me this and I thought it was funny, even if it is fabricated.

Singing! At Long Last

2009-04-07T13:08:00.000-07:00

I officially began singing keeper vocals this abnormally cold April morning at The Bee Hive. With Ben dialing in the vocal sound and giving me that sweet, tonic reverb inside my headphones, I sang through "Chrome" (or "Krome" as Ben likes to spell it with his direct sort of whimsy) six or seven times. I could feel my voice warming and settling down with each new pass, and by the final take, felt that we had much goodness to work with.

We then comped the vocal, a process by which the engineer/producer goes through each and every line (sometimes isolating individual words) with a fine-toothed comb (i.e., ears) and picks out the best, most pleasing versions. It might be a certain whisper or the way a vowel is uttered, or it might be the plaintive delivery confirming a sad mood. The producer/engineer then cuts and pastes each of these selected takes into one mothership of a vocal. Purists might argue that this process is fraudulent stating that it's not an actual take, but an amalgamation of several takes. I figure, it's still my voice singing, not someone else's (reference Milli Vanilli), and I'm a fraud already. Nobody's perfect.

I really, really like this song. The more I listen to the roughs Ben sent me, the more the song resonates with me, especially in these dark days of uncertainty and fear. I can't help but feel this song is at the center of what I'm trying to state with this album.

Chrome for my heart
Chrome for my skin
Chrome becomes a part of me like God inside of men
I want chrome

"Chrome" and the New Recession

2009-03-25T07:09:00.000-07:00

Residing in newborn-baby land for the past month, shy of any alertness or creativity, I am indeed still alive, though my communication has been equivalent to nil. This winter/spring calendar has hands-down been the bleakest I have ever known as far as getting and securing work/shows/income. In some ways for us, it's not much different than any other month of any other year. We live in a recession each and every month, never really knowing where the next paycheck is going to come from. But church budgets are way down, and since that is where I play the vast majority of my shows, we have noticed a definite slowdown in our little cottage economy. Sweating bullets. But the flipside to all this is that I've been home a LOT to help (as much as a male possibly can) my wife in the transition from one to two kids. As a breadwinning male, I have found myself in the middle of a workweek playing with Ellis in the backyard sandbox or fixing peanut butter sandwiches fighting not only the noonday demon of acedia, but the very distinct and cruel head voice saying to me, "Here you are, you lazy sack. You can't even provide for your family, you worthless loser of a phony artist." Such are my days of late. Low self-esteem is a plague riddled with guilt.

Ben has been wrapping up a couple of other projects before we make the final push to finish my ghost of an album. I've officially titled the project, "Chrome", which I will explain in a later post. The release date, obviously, won't be anytime in March, and April is looking mighty doubtful. I'm still hopeful for a May release, but this train is, and has been, a slow one, so by now I should know better than to make any promises when it comes to these sort of things. What I can give you is a sneak peek at the album cover (or something close)....

This Just In: A Pause in the Recording

2009-02-15T14:23:00.000-08:00

Only good news here.

Danielle gave birth to our second child, a fine boy, on this the day of our Lord, Sunday 15 February 2009. Weighing in at a moderate and healthy 8 lbs., 2 oz., Monroe Carle Peters stirred vigorously towards the light, swallowing the atmosphere with a vengeance at 13:30 hours. He seems to possess a calm and dignified demeanor, which agreeably suits his parents. Mother and child are resting and doing quite well. We are grateful for this good, good day.

Sputnik, electric guitars & scrumptious burgers

2009-01-22T10:05:00.000-08:00

My morning familial duties came first: pour cup of coffee, eat Kix, practice juggling handkerchiefs with Ellis (I think he's ready for clown school), empty cat litter box, take out trash and recyclables. Step outdoors to vibrant sunshine and warmer weather; ah, such welcome guests upon my skin. I cast my ballot on the way to Sputnik Studio. Upon arriving, though I was 30 minutes late in true Peters fashion, I discovered Andrew Osenga and Ben hard at work recording electric guitars on "I Will Go With You". Andy then added mando-guitar for a chorus idea I was hearing in my head. There was much rejoicing, at least in my head. Andy then played baritone and electric guitars on "Louisiana In the Dark", electric guitar on "The Traveling Onion", "Come Back a Fool", and, finally, "Sad to Watch You Wave".

Andy, during our original guitar session way back in early November, had rendered a slap-your-mother-in-the-face, George Harrison-cool electric guitar solo during the chorus modulation of "StWYW", but now, after listening back to it, neither I nor Ben are sure if it's the sort of solo that fits on an EP record. That's not to say that I'm cooler than the guitar solo, rather the solo is MUCH cooler than me. But, not to prematurely cast out presumed demons from pigs, the jury's still out on the part, so we'll see. I need to live with it (along with the rest of the songs) for awhile longer before setting things in cement. This paragraph is rife with an odd assortment of phrases, yes?

For lunch we were all invited to taste test a soon-to-open hamburger joint in town, in the shadow of the minor league baseball team's stadium. One could probably catch homerun balls in the Gabby's Diner parking lot during the dog days of summer (how wonderful that sounds right about now). Doug, the friendly proprietor and chef, cooked fresh hand-patted burgers & homecut fries, both the Idaho and sweet potato varieties, for our party of 10. My wife and I both greatly appreciate freshly ground, hand-patted burgers, and Gabby's is this sort of genuine place. No pre-packaged frozen meat here. Doug treated us all, only requesting that we give him our honest and critical feedback. I eagerly await the diner's opening, and hope that he thoroughly succeeds in the venture. I'm definitely going back to try the BBQ bacon burger.

Another good day is in the books. In case you're wondering, we're getting really close, folks. A few accents to yet add, then it's on to singing final vocals along with background vocals (BGVs). That should happen in the coming weeks. The artwork is being designed as I write this. Mix, master, duplicate (I'll explain these in more detail later) -- voila! CD for sale. I'm hoping to have a firm CD release date soon enough, but it's looking like March, maybe April. That, of course, will depend on how things go and whether there's money in the bank account to actually pay for these procedures (see Album Patronage). But I will keep the 3 of you informed as to when that when that might actually be. Hopefully, hope.

Banjo, Lap Steel, Fangs of Dang oh my!

2009-01-21T10:36:00.000-08:00

This morning I met Gabe Scott at his place situated high on a crest overlooking the cold but clear Nashville urban horizon. We loaded his vehicle with a couple of instruments and an amp, hurriedly switched on the fancy seat warmers and made the 20-minute trek to The Beehive. En route, we stopped at his buddy's house to pick up a few other pertinent instruments. There, he & Gabe played me a sample of a song they'd just recorded together, which sounded incredible. Few know of Gabe's songwriting skills. I practically begged for a shot at writing some lyrics and melody for it, but I doubt I'll get the job.

At the studio, Gabe first recorded banjo on "Sad to Watch You Wave", more vibey tonic for this song's landscape. We met Andrew Peterson at Las Palmas mexican restaurant, where we ate too much cheesy, beany food, and then reconvened on the hill post-Speedy Gonzalez's. Ben had to leave and run a couple of errands, so Gabe and I took to arranging the lap steel parts for "You Don't Have the Strength". While listening to this song I had very nearly forgotten that I wrote it on the 5-year anniversary of 9/11 and is, in a sense, a memorial song. Andrew was gracious enough to take a break from working on his forthcoming new book, North! Or Be Eaten, to play the part of engineer and Pro Tools operator ("The check's in the mail, sir.") so I could attempt to communicate to Gabe what melody I was hearing in my head. Once again, I'm not fluent in the artful language of musicianship, so I had to hum the parts rather than explain them in more technical terms. But, like only a parent could understand his child's early attempts at speech, Gabe understood my babbling and did a mighty fine job of things. I love the gritty, haunting sound of lap steel.

We're now in the part of album-making that I enjoy most. Overdubs, for me, are like the icing on a cake; you get to mix the batter however you like, cut the cake in as many pieces as you want, and add as much or little candy sprinkles to the top as you can handle. This is the really fun part. We ran out of time to get Gabe on another song (or two), but that will have to wait until next week, perhaps. After all, there's still pedal steel to be captured. Tomorrow is electric guitar day with Andrew Osenga at Sputnik Studio. Yes, and good.

Gauging the Field

2009-01-20T08:06:00.000-08:00

Ben and I met at The Beehive late yesterday morning where we spent the remainder of the day listening through all 11 songs. The goal, and overall point, was to gauge the progress thus far (since it has, after all, been 2 months since our last work on the album) and to get an idea of where things stood, and more importantly, where we want them to go from this point. We listened in with ears for instrumentation ideas, counter-melodies, and/or parts that might pleasantly fill in some of the spaces that need filling. I'm eager to hear where things go from here, especially as this may be the first EP album to have French horn and banjo on it.

Frankly, I'd forgotten most of what we'd already done, so it was good to hear the songs again. "Chrome" (the story of the abandoned Washington D.C. bicycle) stood out in my mind.

Thursday and Friday are overdub (adding the various instrumentation) days with Gabe Scott and Andrew Osenga (Part II). More to come.

Eric According to Ben, Part I

2008-12-17T15:51:00.000-08:00

Since I obviously haven't had anything to post lately -- to be fair, there's been nothing to report -- I've asked Ben Shive (producer) if he would be willing to utter a few thoughts from his perspective at the head of this proverbial classroom, the dean of the college, the captain at the helm of the ship, the CEO, the navigator, his excellency...

This, to my understanding, is merely Part One of a series that he has up his sleeves. I can only hope Ben wears deodorant.

Part One: Pre-production

Eric and I have been friends since we toured together with Andrew Peterson back in ’02. I love his soul and I love his music. I thought Scarce was an especially strong record, and I’ve been begging Eric for a follow-up for some time now. So I’m thrilled that he’s finally back in the swing of things. And I’m doubly thrilled to be producing the album. And I’m triply thrilled that you have the good taste to be as excited about our mutual friend’s music as I am. So I thought I’d drop by this lovely little blog and put in my two cents for anyone who cares to read. I think I’m going to give it to you in a few installments, since I tend to go on and on about this kind of thing. Today, I’ll cover the pre-production phase of the recording.

Pre-pre-production
(not pee-pee production, which is the job of the kidneys)

The making of this record began with Eric inviting me over one afternoon to hear some songs. We hadn’t talked about working together yet. He just wanted to run his latest stuff by me and maybe get some feedback. I really liked what I heard and I told him so. I’m sure I made a suggestion or two, but I was really there to be a cheerleader. I’m realizing, incidentally, that that’s half my job. You can never go wrong telling your friends how great they are.

Pre-production

The Songs:

By summer I had about thirteen, maybe fourteen, song demos in my possession. These were just rough guitar/vocal recordings Eric had done in Garage Band. Some of the songs were finished. Others were fragments. Now that I knew I was producing, I started listening more critically.

When I listen to a song I’m mostly trying to gauge what it’s attempting to communicate and whether it communicates that thing well. If I had to name the quality I’m looking for, I’d call it “focus.” Is the song littered with throwaway lines? Is the lyric overly poetic or overly plain? Is there an economy of well-developed ideas and metaphors? Or are words and images thrown around carelessly? Is the listener going to feel the emotion or understand the idea at the core of this song?

Focus is also a quality I look for in the music. Are there moments that distract from the lyric, seem out of character, stagnate, or belabor some musical theme? Or does the music support the lyric well, propel it forward, give it a comfortable place to sit?

In our pre-production meetings, we worked through the songs with this in mind. If you had been there with us you would have seen us staring off into space a lot, muttering to ourselves. One song that really came into focus during pre-pro is called “I Had To Tell You.” Eric wrote it about a friend of his who had a very frank and angry bout with God on the heels of some awful circumstances in his life.

It can be difficult to find an apt chorus for a story song. You look and look for the one idea that can bring meaning or clarity to the story without cheapening the telling of it. This idea has to be appropriate at every point in the story because you’re going to sing it at the beginning, in the middle, and at the end. Eric had written what I thought was a strong chorus around the lyric, “I had to tell you.” As in, “These things were eating me up inside, so I had to tell you how I felt.” It was well put-together I thought people would resonate with it.

But there was another idea vying for focus in the song. Eric was ending each verse with the line, “I was always living for myself.” In fact, the working title of the song was “Living For Myself.” Though the idea was part of this friend’s story, I felt that it was putting the song out of focus. It seemed to give the verses too much closure of their own and leave the choruses feeling random, like a needless change of subject. As a listener, I wondered whether the cornerstone of this song was the protagonist’s recognition of selfishness, or his finding of a new intimacy with God through brutal honesty?

I suggested to Eric that instead of resolving, the verses should build to the chorus, so as to really deliver that moment to people’s doors. I suggested that the last line be changed to something like “so much rage within me, I couldn’t keep it to myself,” which would lead right into, “So I had to tell you.” It’s very possible that “Living for myself” was the line that started Eric writing the song, but as Annie Dillard says, sometimes you have to knock out a load-bearing wall, watch most of the building cave in, and then get back to work.

And we did create more work for ourselves. Every verse had to be revised. Some verses didn’t seem to work at all anymore and had to be rewritten. Some of this we did together, and some of it Eric did on his own. But now with the chorus in the center, the verses started to orient themselves around it and the whole composition began coming into focus. To me, this is the real joy of writing. I hope Eric felt the same way after all the hassle I put him through!

Other Pre-pro concerns

During our initial meetings, we also had to talk about budget, process and players. I won’t get into details on the budget, except to say that it dictates a lot about the process. I’m learning it’s much cheaper to record one thing at a time, and since this is a bit of a shoestring operation, we’re going that route. There are arguably some drawbacks to doing it this way, but there’s something I love about it. Namely, it helps keep songs in focus. There’s that word again. You start from the thing that most defines a song, whether that’s a guitar part, a piano part, or something else, and you build on that. So things are less likely to get out of hand. You add a drum kit to the song because it needs one, not just because he’s in the room and on the clock.

Which brings me to players. Eric told me that this time around he wanted to hire his friends. Thankfully, his friends are my friends. So we hired Paul Eckberg and Ken Lewis to play drums. We hired Brent Milligan (who produced Land of the Living and Scarce) and Tony Lucido to play bass. Andy Osenga is playing guitars. I’m playing keys. I’m sure we’ll have some special guests on BGVs and utility instrumentation.

Feeling confident about the songs, and with a process and players in place, we were ready to get rid of the “pre” and get into just plain old production. More on that later.

Tracking Day Photos

2008-11-14T15:34:00.000-08:00

Since there, unfortunately, won't be much in the way of activity or studio progress around here through the end of this calendar year, I thought it might be mildly enjoyable to post some action photos from our tracking days.

Oh, Ben, what are you thinking about as you stare at the computer screen?

The ever-talented Brent Milligan playing bass at The Attic Studio.

Ken Lewis hitting a cymbal on his legs at his place, The Attic Studio. Nice chapeau, sir.

Ben (Shive) and Ken (Lewis) in the backseat of my 1965 Volkswagen Karmann Ghia on our way to lunch at The Daily Dish. Big boys in a tiny car do not mix well.

Ben Shive rubbing his head at The Metropolitan Museum of Modern Paul (Paul Eckberg's studio).

Paul Eckberg (l), Ben Shive (center), Tony Lucido (r) charting out one of my many spectacular songs at MMoMP. Why Ben has a candy wrapper on his right eye is beyond me.

Finally, me staring out the sky window in Ken Lewis's place, The Attic Studio. Photo by Brent Milligan.

Let There Be Electronic Guitars

2008-11-03T14:45:00.000-08:00

Today was an electric guitar session with Andrew Osenga. We set up shop late morning at Andy's room in Sputnik Studio where he proceeded to lend us his talents on this eve of the national election. Once again, he and Ben delved into a musical language that, in my ignorance, I simply am unable to speak. This town is fluent in the good language. I wish I had grown up hearing such discourse so that I might be more useful during these brief moments inside the sequestered world of musicians.

Andy did some really great stuff throughout the day. Five guitar-layered songs today with another day of electrics tomorrow, including some jangly 12-string electrics which will no doubt make Eric a pleased witness. Andy played several of his electric guitars throughout the day, but I didn't think to take notice of any of the specifics of guitar models (shame on me, the non-guitar geek). His pedal board, burnished in fancy, cold metal gadgetry, resembled something that might go aboard a NASA space shuttle mission: glowing red lights, buttons and gaffer tape everywhere. He and Ben work mighty well together, and I was glad that A) I got to be there, and B) that they're not jerks, nor do they seem to possess any sense of self-superiority in their work. I'm glad to know them, and also glad I ate some decent Pad Thai for lunch with Ben, Andy, Stephen Lamb and Andy Gullahorn.

Though I won't be able to take part in the entirety of tomorrow's session, I'm planning on being present until lunch at which time I'll knock off early and return home for some much-needed face time with my gentle family before they leave for Orlando for seven days on Wednesday. I have a couple of shows this weekend in Michigan and west Illinois/east Iowa. Though I'm looking forward to the shows, I do not relish the long, lonely hours in the car with only the dashboard to hear my lonely voice. I will need some good music to keep me company. Besides Ben Shive's spectacular album, The Ill-Tempered Klavier, do you any suggestions?

Tracking Day: The Metropolitan Museum of Modern Paul

2008-10-30T13:53:00.000-07:00

After running a morning errand I met Ben (seated center of photo), Paul Eckberg (drums, seated on left) and Tony Lucido (bass, seated on right) this sunny day at Paul's cozy and very well junk food-stocked studio, The Metropolitan Museum of Modern Paul. I say "junk" accusationally, but what I actually mean is that we each of us ate our irresponsible fill of pretzels, Keebler cookies, M&Ms, Dr. Pepper and Starburst throughout the day. I'm not complaining. If my teeth fall out it will be because of Dr. Pepper.

Paul is more organized than anyone I know, and I appreciate him immensely for it. Neatly coiled cables, an orderly work environment, fresh coffee (and biscuits, to boot), a very well thought out display of fridge contents, and little Beatles figurines here and there make MMoMP a most welcome place. Tony, with his supreme wool fedora, is one of the funniest and most self-deprecating individuals I've ever met in Nashville. Possessing a wicked sense of humor, Tony had me laughing at his various jokes and stories on many occasions. I appreciate him immensely for it. I wonder if he does any counseling.

When I arrived at Paul's the guys were charting out "Come Back A Fool". They followed that with "I Will Go With You". That brought us to 1:15pm where we grabbed a lunch of high-in-MSG, chain restaurant Pad Thai noodles. It was an unfulfilling meal for me, and since I'd eaten there before and knew the Pad Thai was unsatisfactory, I surely should have known better than to order it again. At least I got a good fortune in my cookie: "Today you will get what your heart desires." We'll take a wait and see approach on that. Post lunch, the guys played drums, percussion and bass on "Run Down", "Sad To Watch You Wave", and "You Don't Have The Strength". Great stuff.

Once again, it was good to be in the company of talented musicians and friends like Ben, Paul and Tony. They work hard at not only their instruments but they work equally hard to serve the songs. It's so nice to hear these tunes, some of which have been around in my head for several years, finally coming to life. More recording goodness on Monday when we shack up at Sputnik Studio where my friend and fellow Square Peg, Andrew Osenga, will work his mighty electric guitar magic. I love what that guy does, so I'm looking forward to Monday.

Happy Halloween, everybody. Or Happy All Saints Day, if trick-or-treating is not your cup of tea. The past few days Danielle has been making a homemade costume for Ellis. He'll be a pedestrian banana. Yellow hilarity and photos to follow.

Tracking Day at The Attic

2008-10-28T11:54:00.000-07:00

I spent the day at Ken Lewis's upstairs studio, The Attic, alongside Ken, Brent Milligan and Ben Shive. Situated next to a powder blue upright piano, I have sauntered away this clear blue day in a green leatherette chair listening to the great parts these gentlemen have individually and collectively come up with. Brent, Ben and Ken are artists in the truest sense of the word, brushing their own musical colorings on the open-sky painting at large. They infuse so much of their own art, determination and professionalism into these songs that it puts me to shame. While no man is an island, here and now I am reminded that few, if any, artists are able to create anything worthwhile wholly on his/her own. That is easily the case here. I am a singer-songwriter. These guys are musicians. They speak a language I can barely decipher, and even when I can occasionally follow, then not all the time. I sit, nearly dumbfounded, but absolutely in awe of their abilities as they listen through each song once, maybe twice, charting notes along the way, talk amongst themselves honing in on specific chord movements saying things like "four over two", and then it's off and running as the microphones detail the occasion.

Brent playing the autoharp.

Today was Day One of bass and drums. Ken (drums, percussion) and Brent (bass, autoharp) kicked things off at 9:45am with smashing contributions to "In the Movies", then "Reality Came Crashing Down", where 1pm sneaked up on us just that quickly. We four grown men (barely) piled into my '65 Volkswagen Karmann Ghia to eat lunch at The Daily Dish where we parked and ate next to country music star Brad Paisley. After some incredible chicken and shrimp cacciatore, we (barely) piled back into the Ghia to head back to The Attic to work on "Chrome", "The Traveling Onion", "I Had To Tell You" and "Louisiana in the Dark". I say "work", but what I actually mean is that they actually worked while I reposed in the green chair, coffee in hand, nodding and offering my nimble opinion when asked.

It was good, so good, to see major progress made on these songs today, to witness the contributions of such skilled artisans to these little songs of mine, to hear beauty and space breathed into the mere guitar parts I played a few weeks ago. As I said in an earlier post, this is the fun part. And it continues again on Thursday when we'll hunker down in The Modern Metropolitan Museum of Paul where Paul Eckberg (drums), Tony Lucido (bass), Ben Shive will continue the reverie and the foreign language which they so eloquently and efficiently speak.

Tracking Day Doth Approach

2008-10-25T23:50:00.000-07:00

A couple of big tracking days are occurring this week. Tuesday, we are working at Ken Lewis's studio tracking percussion along with Brent Milligan playing bass. EP = superdad eager to hear what these fine gentlemen come up with. Ken, of course, played drums and percussion all over Scarce, and is a wacky nice guy. Brent, who has been out on the road with Michael W. Smith and Stephen Curtis Chapman as of late, was the wonderful mind behind much of what made Scarce so gosh darn enjoyable (to me, at least). I'll be glad to be in the same room, at the same time, with Brent, Ken and Ben. Mental note: bring camera.

On Thursday, we will be tracking more drums and bass, this time with Paul Eckberg on drums at his brilliantly named studio, The Modern Metropolitan Museum of Paul, along with Tony Lucido on bass, a gentleman I've never worked with before. Ben assures me he's nice, especially since he knows I don't like working with mean people. I'm sure he's a good egg.

This week will be actual, physical progress, and for that I cannot wait. Recording drums and bass will be like giving a short man stilts to not only see, but be seen. It will be like filling a previously empty swimming pool. It will be like uncorking and sipping on a fine bottle of wine along with a spread of brie. In short, I am eager to see what these fine folks brew up. Poor similes aside, I'll keep you posted.

Day Seven (10/10/08)

2008-10-10T19:35:00.000-07:00

Day 7
The final day of recording acoustic guitars!

Ben and I decided early on to record the acoustic guitars first in this process (most times drums are recorded first). Doing this will hopefully make tracking day (drums & bass) a much quicker, and therefore less expensive, process. Studio-wise, time usually equals money. A tight budget means we have to work quickly and wisely.

This morning I tried recording the acoustic guitar part for "Chrome" (a third-person song about my being a bicycle; I saw a bike at a subway stop chained to a post rusted, weathered and abandoned in Washington DC when Gabe Scott was with me on tour several years ago. It had obviously been left there by its owner several years prior. I wrote the song then - 2004 - but never did anything with it until now.), but I wasn't good enough to adequately pull off the part. So, instead, we asked Andy Gullahorn (one of the most tasteful guitar accompanists I know) to record the part. Besides, I'd been wanting to invite Andy to play on an album ever since Scarce came out in '06, so this was a great opportunity. After eating a Bar B Cutie lunch with Andy Osenga, Cason Cooley and Ben's doppelganger brother Josh, we drove to Gullahorn's place (The Night Owl's Nest) where he played the delicate, finger-picky guitar part, along with a couple of beautiful layering tracks, much better than I could have ever accomplished. Jill (Phillips) (whose wonderful new album releases on Dec. 1) was kind enough to bake us a chocolate pie upon completion of the task. Sugar rush on, Ben and I drove back to the Beehive to record acoustic guitars for "Run Down", the 11th and final song to track. This is a song based on the epic Richard Adams rabbit novel, Watership Down. If you've never read the book, please do.

A week of non-stop song arranging, acoustic guitars, and singing rough vocals has me mentally fried. I'm out of shape in more than just the physical sense. None of this is physical labor per se, but it certainly taxes the mind. At least it does mine since album-making is not an everyday activity for me. To know that we have all eleven acoustic guitar parts done is a most welcome moment. There were times while I was writing some of these that I was unsure I'd ever figure out how to actually play them, much less record them for posterity sake. I'm glad it's on tape now.

Ben and I break for another week or so before scheduling some tracking days with a drummer (to be named), a percussionist (to be named), and bass player (ditto). That's when the real fun starts. More to come. Thanks for staying tuned in. I'm glad you're here.

Day Six (10/9/08)

2008-10-09T19:34:00.001-07:00

Day 6.
This morning Ben apparently got to fulfill his career-long dream of playing acoustic guitar on an album. I'm glad it was on my album and not some other yahoo's. I wrote "Come Back A Fool" on the 6-string in an open tuning (C) back whenever I happened to write it. Ben came up with a nice jangly 12-string part the other day during pre-production, and, since I was too lazy to learn said part, figured he could play it since he's no slouch on guitar. I dubbed Ben "old man Lemoyne", and record he did. Nice playing, old man Lemoyne. Then I stepped up to the mic (hey, that's actually a literal statement) and played the 6-string part on top of it. The parts work quite well together. We call this process "layering", where you record one guitar part over another creating a much richer and fuller sound. I sang a quick scratch vocal and we left for the Shive residence where Beth (Ben's very pregnant wife) fed us some delicious meatloaf and mashed potatoes. We chased that down with a cold 1554 and some dark chocolate before returning to the Beehive for a crack at another tune.

Next up was "Reality Came Crashing Down", a song that I doubt will make any so-called "positive" or "safe-for-the-whole-family" radio playlists (as if any of my music ever has breached those walls). I really have to wonder how listeners will ultimately perceive this song since it is what it is: the facing up to what has become the reality of my inconsequential and highly unsubstantial career up til now. Honestly, as much as I don't want to (and probably shouldn't) admit this, I get the sense that this will be an overall downcast collection of songs (divorce, anger, melancholy, hopeless dreams, comparing myself to an onion, waving goodbye -- these sort of sad subjects). But I also sense that they will be true out of the only voice I know from where to speak. I'm a saint, I am a monster, as I said on Scarce. Not that a song makes anyone either, but knowing thyself is far more revelatory than any melody could ever be.

Ben came up with a very pleasant, Shawn Colvin-esque mandolin part for the song after I recorded acoustic guitar and a rough vocal. I came up with a nice counter-melody/catchphrase which we have yet to figure out what actual instrument will play the part, but we both agree it will be nice. Done day. On to the next...

More recording, Fall & non-Presidential Presidential Candidates

2008-10-08T10:14:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was officially Day 4 of the recording process. We're working at Ben's new place (The Beehive) south of town. It is situated in a townhome complex on a high hill overlooking the bald and rocky scalp of a Kroger grocery store and a few other strip-mall locales. At the stoop of the westward-facing front door, giant electric power line structures are strung overhead humming their constant atonal melody. Its sound is that of something being fiercely guarded. The trees' leaves, from the upstairs work window, are beginning to settle into yellow, red and orange murmurs, and it is a good and pleasant sight. The world is falling to sleep.

I meant to post this last night, but other things at home took precedence. After putting a very tired boy to bed, my wife and I tried to watch the town-hall Presidential debate, but it wound up being anything other than Presidential what with all the antics, blatantly evasive answers, and childish finger-pointing those two goofs demonstrated in front of a national television audience. We turned the TV off after only 20 minutes of their belly-aching and blowing hot air, all while being corrected more than once by Mr. Brokaw to adhere to the time limits to which they previously agreed. I am seriously considering writing-in Ron Paul on my Nov. 4 ballot, the only candidate I've heard to make a priority of balancing our nation's ridiculously bloated government spending and debt. I ask you this: What, if anything, is wrong with a three-party system in this country? And what, if anything, is inherently wrong with living under the strictures of a balanced budget all without owing another nation a single dime? The Dems are prepared to turn our nation into an economic Socialist republic (just a hop, skip and jump from Communism, I might add), while the Repubs are nearly blind and clueless as to how to fix just about anything. Maybe we should all write-in Tom Brokaw as a candidate come Nov. 4. Have you ever read his book The Greatest Generation?

Ben and I started working (I still shudder to call this "work") at 10am, we hemmed the arrangement and close-to-final lyrics for "I Had To Tell You" (a song formerly known as "Living for Myself") for a couple of hours, then met Centricity label-mates Andrew Peterson and Jason Gray for a speedy Gonzalez lunch just down the hill, and afterward walked back up the slope beneath the buzzing power lines to The Beehive where we recorded the 12-string acoustic guitar track and a scratch (non-keeper) vocal for IHTTY.

Today (Day 5) we recorded the 12-string acoustic parts (a strum part and an arpeggiated part) and a scratch vocal for "Louisiana in the Dark", a song I wrote while piling up storm debris at my mother-in-law's curb in Louisiana just days after Labor Day in the aftermath of hurricane Gustav while awaiting my father-in-law's funeral which was delayed by the surrounding turmoil and uncertainties. I am eager to hear how this song turns out. Another mild-mannered mexican lunch, this time beef tacos, was followed by a Hershey bar and our threatening to scale the paving stone bluff back up to the studio. At an 80-degree angle, we climbed to 10 feet above ground and quickly realized that this was not necessarily a smart activity. But, still, the boy (redneck?) in me wanted to throw glass bottles against the retaining wall watching them smash into pieces. Like a child - or a Presidential candidate - I digress. Back at the Hive, after some frustrating tuning issues, we recorded double acoustic guitar tracks for "The Traveling Onion" along with a quick scratch vocal. We knocked off at 4:45, and I began the 30-minute drive home. I'm jealous of Ben who lives maybe five minutes away from the studio. More updates to come as we are set to work the rest of this week. Huzzah.

A Plodding Progression

2008-09-12T20:37:00.000-07:00

How is it that life can throw a pail of curve balls our way and then expect us to dodge every one of them? That's what my life has felt like over the past month ever since returning home from summer camp. I expected a slow, paint-filled and largely uneventful August, but that came and went. Now, September is blurrily halfway over and I can barely recall its first half. It has been a mournful month thus far with us having experienced the double devastation of losing Danielle's father to cancer and that of hurricane Gustav, all on the very same day.

Ben came to the house this morning, and we worked on developing some of the songs. I believe this is called pre-production, where you tweak, manage, and massage verses, choruses, lyrics, melodies, bridges, or add or subtract dynamics, develop flow and energy as a song moves from point A to point B. It's figuring out how and where to trim the fat and how to get the most out of every single word and note. Most days this would sound like teeth-pulling to a slow-brained person like me, but Ben (Shive) was ridiculously helpful in fine-tuning the lyrics to "Living For Myself", the overall melody to "Come Back A Fool", and the bridge to a song called "Run Down" (think, a takeoff on the rabbit epic, Watership Down).

We started the meeting by my playing him a new song I wrote last week while in south Louisiana chainsawing tree limbs and picking up branches and dragging storm debris to the curb at my newly widowed mother-in-law's house. It is a rare event when I am able to write a song apart from the guitar, so with boots too big, shorts far too baggy, in borrowed gloves, socks and longsleeve shirt, I penned the majority of "Louisiana In The Dark". The heat and humidity, I remember, were rampant. I am grateful for the song, and especially grateful that Ben seemed to sense its gravity and meaning to me in the sad and losing events that transpired on Labor Day 2008. In my mind, the song could more than likely stand alone without any instrumental accompaniment whatsoever -- a rare accomplishment for me.

We broke at noon for leftover spaghetti and chilled Dr. Pepper, and continued work until Danielle and Ellis returned from running errands. Ben and I drove the two minutes it takes to get to nearby Portland Brew where we hashed out budget stuff, and then whittled the song list from 14 down to 10 (maybe 11) songs that we feel are the strongest of the bunch. I have no idea what I'm doing by telling certain songs that they're not up to snuff and are being cut from the team. [I'm an LSU football fan, so, voila, there's your sports analogy. Down, set, hike.] We compared calendars and got a general idea of nailing down some work days. Tracking (drums and bass) day looms near. That means I need to get these songs in really good shape before then.

I'm sure I said this before when I was recording Scarce a few years ago, but I simply cannot overemphasize the value of having a producer, a friend even, who is quite possibly more excited overall about the songs than I am. I realize I'm just another paycheck for Ben - he would never say this - but his genuine enthusiasm and investment in this project is a therapy to me in my lethargy and acedia. We pressed the record button only once today in order to get a quick verse idea down for posterity sake. There were no expensive microphones, no patch cables, no studio hobnobbery, but this day of work, as bare bones as it seems, was quite productive, reassuring and encouraging. Progress, though plodding, is still progress.

Same Vector, Victor

2008-08-12T20:46:00.000-07:00

I am back home from a month of playing... er, working... at a Young Life camp in Minnesota. Thirty pleasant days on beautiful Pelican Lake in the midst of some funny, caring and hard-working folks. I feel as though I am ripping in two when I must finally pack up my belongings, sing my last song, and ultimately depart camp headed southeast on MN Highway 59 exiting Otter Tail County. I've spent the past eight summers at this particular property and every year it is the same emotional bomb upon me -- my heart breaks and I sense that I am leaving something so very good, so true to the Kingdom, and authentic. The end of each summer brings tears to my eyes, and this year was no exception. I cried spontaneously from Minnesota to Missouri. My first stop, after leaving camp, at the local gas station or McDonald's is usually a shock to my community-oriented system where I recall, as if slowly waking from a long dream, that the world is not nearly as friendly a place as I had hoped it would have grown up to be. Perhaps one day. I cry and I like friendly people, what can I say.

Home again, and time to get to cracking on the new album. Ben (Shive) is wrapping up production on a young lady's Christmas album, and then we shall get back to work on my as-yet-to-be-named album within the next week or two. That is, unless he fired me.

Thanks for staying tuned in despite my decrepit ability to provide any real news here. The Album Patronage is going well. We've got 50 wondrous folks signed up so far. Only 250 more to go to reach the goal of $15,000. If you're just tuning in for the first time, please read more about the Patronage, and ask any questions you might have. Thanks, folks. More to come.

Album Patronage

2008-07-17T14:37:00.000-07:00

Unless Ben has secretly gone and brought in a hired gun to replace me, my songs, and my previously recorded guitar parts, there are no new recording updates to speak of.

However, the Album Patronage, which I have slyly alluded to in the past, is now officially underway. The goal is to raise $15,000. You get CDs, concert tickets, and liner note credits, in return. For more details, visit Eric's Next Record.

News From Nowhere

2008-06-29T17:33:00.000-07:00

Hey folks:
You're probably wondering why there's been no new content published here. I promised consistent updates, but honestly, there's been nothing to report since my last official studio post. Ben has been wrapping up a slew of other album projects (Sara Groves, Allen Levi, etc.) and has been swamped with that work. Myself and my family will be out of town the entire month of July where we'll be volunteering at a Young Life camp in Minnesota (I get to play my music). So, in essence, though Ben will be brewing up production ideas for the album and I will *hopefully* be writing another couple of new tunes while overlooking Pelican Lake, there will be very little, if any, actual recording done for the album. So, I guess I'm writing to tell you that I won't have much to offer you in the way of updates for the next month or so.

Ben and I will hit it hard in August and thereafter. I'm excited about what we're doing, though still in infancy, and I will be cautiously eager for you to hear these songs. Stay tuned to my website for the Album Patronage, coming soon. Thank you all, and to all a goodnight.

Ben Shive: The Ill-Tempered Klavier

2008-06-17T10:33:00.000-07:00

A reminder to those reading that Ben's brand new album, The Ill-Tempered Klavier, releases today. It will be special. You can order it in the Rabbit Room.

Day Two : 6/12/08

2008-06-13T11:49:00.000-07:00

Met Ben at 10am and we looked at You Don't Have the Strength (War of Wills), a song I had written on the 5-year anniversary of 9/11. I'm not much into politics, and I certainly don't appreciate mixing politics with entertainment or the arts, but this song is certainly a political statement of sorts, though mild in proportion and not laced with bile or anti-leadership venom as seems customary and trendy these days. It is more of a statement to America on the whole and our constant waffling on foreign and domestic issues. It's not that I'm trying to be a jerk in this song, but for a mild civilian like myself, this feels like I'm screaming at the top of my lungs the way Elisha, as bald as a paved street, might have done when he called down the she-bears on those cub scouts who were mocking him in the Old Testament story (2 Kings 2:23-24). I imagine that you might one day have more questions about this song once the album is released, so perhaps we could pick back up with this topic at a later date. Besides, maybe I'll later come to realize that the song is not at all a political statement, just my way of griping at the way things are, and issuing a challenge.

We ate lunch at The Copper Kettle, a superb little meat-n-three (apparently, this is an exclusively southern dining experience). The "meat" stands for meat; sometimes pot roast, sometimes chicken, sometimes meatloaf. The "-n-three" stands for the number of sides you get; sometimes actual veggies, sometimes mashed potatoes, sometimes salad, sometimes mac & cheese. Today was yummy coconut fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy. None of it is good for your arteries.

Back to the Nest where I got Ben's remarkably astute opinion on some first verse lyric changes to better set the tone for the song, In the Movies. This song is about the vices that maim and destroy marriages. This is about some friends of ours who experienced this first-hand. At some point after I'd recorded the guitar part, Ben had to edit it, whereupon I "wrote" jingle #2 ("Editing in Pro Tools"). I should start recording these jingles for posterity sake.

We knocked off early since I had to drive out to the airport to pick up Danielle and Ellis who had been gone for the better part of two weeks in Louisiana where she was taking care of her ill dad. Our house has been way too quiet and I have noticed a growing loneliness in the plaster walls of our home while they were away. It is more than good to hear their reverberations echoing throughout the house again.

Day One: 6/10/08

2008-06-13T10:52:00.000-07:00

Late this morning, Ben and I met at Andy Gullahorn's studio, The Night Owl's Nest, to work on final song arrangements, tweak/clarify lyrics, and officially begin recording this album. From the moment I asked Ben to produce it, we've never been quite sure where we'd wind up working since Ben does not have a work space to call his own yet. So, it worked out well that Andy & Jill (Phillips) were out of town for the week, and allowed us to use their studio while they're away. Neither Ben nor I are much in the way of late night owlery, since we both have little ones at home who like to wake up bright and early in the morning, but I do happen to like birds, so perhaps that gives me some small modicum of credence in recording at such an ornithologically-named studio. Neither here nor there...

Ben set up a couple of condenser mics behind the makeshift baffling (jingle #1) while I checked email and mentioned to him that I was thinking of "going viral and blogging it out". He and Nick seemed to think that a few folks might find this album journaling process interesting. I wanted Ben to hear a new song I'd been working on, so I sat on the futon and played him what I had of Sad to Watch You Wave on the 12-string guitar. He responded favorably, so we worked on the arrangement (basically, how to get from point A to point B, from beginning to end), he provided some great imagery to help clarify the first verse, and away we went to record the main acoustic guitar part. I sang a scratch vocal (a very rough, non-keeper vocal, just so the other musicians can have a roadmap of the song) and then we broke for lunch since we had started late. We were set on a generic Mexican meal when we happened upon my new favorite Thai place in town, Thai Kitchen. Here, we wound up downing Pad Thai noodles, an excellent spring roll, flat soft drinks, and lots of intermittent spices. A good start to the meals-eaten-while-recording experience. Next up was to record a keeper 12-string acoustic guitar for I Will Go With You, a song I wrote for my son, Ellis. I sang a scratch vocal for it and that was the end of day one. A healthy start.

I've noticed that it's been a little difficult honing on the actual keys for some of these tunes. Some feel too low for my voice in the verses, while getting pretty high, and challenging, by the time the chorus kicks in. It will be interesting to see how my non-25 year-old voice handles it once we begin recording vocals. More on that later.

Note: If you're a recording-phile (audiophile?), you're probably already wondering why we seem to be working backwards tracking acoustic guitars first, not drums and bass as is customary. Brent Milligan did this when he produced Scarce and Land of the Living, and I absolutely love the way it worked, placing the absolute essence of the song - me & the guitar - before any of the supportive production values. He built the production around the basic elements of the tune itself. I thought it worked well. This way, the song hopefully stands on its own when I get out and play these songs live in a solo setting. Or maybe not.

Welcome!

2008-06-13T09:17:00.000-07:00

Hello from Nashville, TN!

I'm thrilled that you are willing to follow along and watch (or help, as the case may be) as I connect the dots for this, as yet untitled album #8, in this vocational career of a husband, father, and indie singer-songwriter. Thank you for being here and for being interested enough to spend a few moments with me *hopefully* each working day as I catalogue the recording process with my good friend and producer, Ben Shive. Also, I've begged Ben to occasionally offer up some of his own witty insights and thoughts along the way as we press the "record" button, eat good food, tidy up songs to their purest form, and perhaps even pen a few unsaleable jingles together (which has already begun).

Thank you for being you and for being here. Here's to good vibes, great signal paths, and a collection of worthwhile, edifying material. I'm so glad you are for me, not against me.

-EP

ERiC PETERS

On Flight 1680 (A Poem)

When Last I Saw My Toenail (A Poem)

Torn Asunder (or A Bizarre Dream)

TAKiNG iNVENTORY of 2011

In the (Studio) Beginning

Only seven days left to sponsor Eric Peters' new album!

sponsor Eric Peters' new album and get cool extras

BiRDS of ReLOCATION The new album by Eric Peters (and you)!

Tell your friends!

Under The Radar House Show Tour

New Goods/Store Pricing

When The Waters Rise

"Don't Hold Your Breath" (A Music Video)

Scarce on NoiseTrade

Relocation

Gus

Under The Radar Interview & Premiere of "Don't Hold Your Breath"

Fury of a Cat

Silver Tongue : Golden Voice

Deconstructing Reality (Or Why I Wrote "Louisiana In The Dark")

Taking Account: 2010

Umbrella T-shirt - CLEARANCE SALE

Annual CD Sale

New Green Beep Beep T-shirts

Under The Radar (Episode 86)

An Old Song In A New Commercial

Under The Radar Tour Video

Video clip of a new song: "The Old Year"

New Swag!

Chicago in January

Merry Christmas

The Countdown to 300,000, FINALE!

The Countdown to 300,000, Pt. V

The Countdown to 300,000, Pt. IV

The Countdown to 300,000, Pt. III

The Countdown to 300,000, Pt. II

The Countdown to 300,000

Holiday Sale

Brad Pitt's Butt

Names Unanswered

Band Fest

Umbrella Pointers

Out and About in the World

"Mister Peters"

Chrome on iTunes

Chrome podcast

The Blue Indian interview

Ad in Sept./Oct. '09 Relevant Magazine

One Week

Chrome Release Day & Pre-Orders!

Mixing 101

Please Believe Me

I Had To Tell You... That I'm Sleepy

Hammer Dulcimer In An 85-degree Studio

Lawn Care with Eric Peters

French horn & Prep-mixing

Percussion Rhymes with ?

Nearly Complete!

Background Vocal Mania

A Milestone

One More Day of Singing (Hallelujah)

On Being Eric Petered

More Singing

Singing! At Long Last

"Chrome" and the New Recession

This Just In: A Pause in the Recording

Sputnik, electric guitars & scrumptious burgers

Banjo, Lap Steel, Fangs of Dang oh my!

Gauging the Field

Eric According to Ben, Part I

Tracking Day Photos

Let There Be Electronic Guitars

Tracking Day: The Metropolitan Museum of Modern Paul

Tracking Day at The Attic

Tracking Day Doth Approach

Day Seven (10/10/08)

Day Six (10/9/08)

More recording, Fall & non-Presidential Presidential Candidates

A Plodding Progression

BiRDS of ReLOCATION

The new album by Eric Peters (and you)!