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...
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
More recording, Fall & non-Presidential Presidential Candidates
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.
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.
Friday, September 12, 2008
A Plodding Progression
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.
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.
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