June 22nd, 2004
I was either born with a genetic predisposition, or have been thoroughly (and permanently) acclimatized to outside temperatures in the 12 - 17 degree Celsius range. When it rises to nearly 30 degrees (as it did yesterday and the day before), I get very tired. My energy level sinks, my misery rises, and my concentration flags.
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Last weekend, Ken and I started work on three more songs ... well, actually, it was two songs in the first half and then we spent the remaining time recording a jam session, which I am editing into a short instrumental. There is something warm and friendly about the sessions this time. I think part of it is that we went with the "live" guitar and drums setup again, and didn't worry too much about timing and steadiness of the beat. The guitar was recorded live with my trusty Shure SM57 and a nice mellow-sounding Fender amplifier (well, mellow for a Fender, anyhow).
When I got my digital recorder home and started listening to the tapes, I realised that the longer Ken and I play together the friendlier the sound. That may or may not be a good thing, but I do like the evolution of our sound together. The songs we did a couple of years ago were pretty tight and the playing was sharp, but the feeling was, "In your face, mu'fu'!" Now we sound like an old friend come to set awhile on the porch and drink your lemonade.
One song in particular is called, "You Wish." I like the sad resignation of the chord progression combined with the warmth and friendliness of the playing. It's like being brought bad news by a gentle 40-year family friend. And the best part of it is that Ken and I did this particular song in only the second take! We rehearsed it two or three times, had a couple of bad starts, got about 3/4-through it the first time, then nailed it the second time.
(We could have continued searching for perfection by doing more takes, but sometimes you just gotta let these things be.)
Later at home, I doubled the guitar part slightly to fill out the sound and make up for any performance imperfections. I do that a lot, by the way: I'll double--or even triple--rhythm guitars because my songs are written in such a way that the guitar parts are vital to carrying them from beginning to end.
Another song that Ken and I are working on is called, "I'm in Love with a Bowler." We've got guitars and drums and bass recorded for that one. All that's missing is Ken's solo guitar and my vocals. I played it for my sister Jennifer on Sunday and she said it was very funny ... and she didn't even hear the lyrics yet! She was careful to point out that she thought there was nothing wrong with it, just that it was funny. Jen's opinion counts for a lot with me; she's a professional singer and a consummate musician to boot. I love it when she compliments my music, because she never hands out accolades gratuitously (I think it's a jazz musician thing).
"Bowler" was written about a year ago as I sat up very late one Friday night watching Women's 5-Pin Bowling for Dollars on TV. There was a bowler there whom I thought would be the perfect muse for a song (her name is Catherine Willis) and so I strummed the guitar looking for the right chords and the lyrics. (I'd like to hasten to add at this point that I am not in love with Catherine Willis or any other bowler. I'm in love with a florist, but that's another story...) So when I played the song for Ken and we went to record the drums and guitar "live", he got the point of the song, suggesting a better beat--a nice slow 6/8--and the recorded drums and guitars formed really nice funny bed tracks for the song, upon which we were able to add second guitar parts and bass.
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My friend Sean complained yesterday that I did not mention his newborn son. Ethan (Maxwell?) born June 14th, 2004 at 10:30 PM. 3.05 Kilos and irresistably cute as a button.
There.
He also mentioned that he was having trouble understanding the point of my June 9th rant.
Tough. There was a point and there's nothing wrong with my writing, so it's not my fault if you couldn't figure out what I was talking about. But, regardless, do I have to write expository essays every time I mention something in my Rant-o-Rama? I mean, take today: There's no point at all to it, really, but that didn't stop me. Feh...