Avant Grande – Round 2

I just got the word yesterday, right before heading out to work, that I made it to the finals of the Avant Grande music competition.

What this means is that on Tuesday, June 19, I am to play a quick ten minute set in front of a live audience. There will be four other acts there to compete, also each playing a ten minute set. Out of the five of us, two will be selected. One of those two will be playing the Central Park Summer Stage, the other Celebrate! Brooklyn, and both will receive a one-year endorsement deal with Gibson.

I am so nervous and excited about this opportunity, I can’t even sleep tonight. I’m in the process of throwing together an impromptu band so that I can play my tunes without the use of a cheesy looper pedal. We’ll have about a day and a half to rehearse and get the ten minute set tight once my friend Jake gets down here (he is coming all the way from Maine to play drums for me- whutta guy!).

This could be my ticket to ride, and I’m on pins and needles, man. Pins and needles.

Where’s the conviction?

Can I be a realist and still have the vivid imagination I so cherish? If that imagination attacks me, subversively eating the foundation out from under me, is it honorable to turn from it and use a different lens?

I played a show (really, an open mic) tonight at a local cafe called Waltz, and hmm.. wasn’t my worst performance there, but if I were to map my satisfaction, graft it onto my feelings both during and after the set, I would clearly stamp it as a one.

Where’s my conviction? Every time I feel this way after a set, I make pacts with myself to brush up on my guitar-playing chops, my music theory knowledge, and work on my songs as if they were my own child’s mind. But the next day, I wake up at 2pm and find just enough time to wash a few dishes before heading off to work, whereupon after I get out I come home and surf the internet in some random manner. This is saying one thing and meaning another. Where’s my meaning?

This post contains no news, no updates, no worthwhile advance in my music at all. It will just simply serve as a reminder to myself.

Avant Grande?

I’m going to submit some tracks to a new Starbuck’s music competition.. I’m looking to throw their way my three strongest songs, as well as a resume as impressive as I can make. Hopefully something will come to fruition with this one, as my last attempt failed (for what reasons, only God knows).

If I make the top five spots, I play at the Astor Place store in the lower east side. If I make the top two out of that, I play either Central Park or Go! Brooklyn with a similar, more well-known artist.

Here’s to trying.

Restrictions may apply

So a little while ago, seeing as how I’ve had next to no formal training in either songwriting or playing guitar, I decided to do a little research myself at the bookstore. I was looking to build my chops in either realm by studying, in a very informal and overall slow way, the techniques involved. I was thinking I could digest a little of this information and stir it in with the natural techniques I already have (does this sound good? great, it is good. Is this a striking lyric to me? Awesome, let’s use it).

Rikky Rooksby wrote a neat little book called How To Write Songs on Guitar. The simplicity of the title caught my eye, especially as it pertained to both of the things I was looking for. Mostly, I was looking for a fresh, outside perspective on writing and playing, coupled with very formal schools of training.

I got both. Rooksby included a complete chord dictionary, scattered throughout the book in categorical chapters. He explained, in a crash-course kind of way, the theory behind song structure and chord sequences. He has chapters devoted to writing a good lyric (and the pitfalls to avoid), and melody, rhythm, etc.

But what I liked most of all was his ‘Other Strategies for Songwriting’ found tucked away at the tail end of the first introductory chapter. In this bullet list, was included the technique of arbitrarily choosing some limits to your songwriting. i.e. writing a song:

• that is only two minutes long (check)
• that starts with a chorus
• that has an odd number of bars in the verse or chorus
• that is a sad song with only major chords
• that increases in tempo

I like the idea of those restrictions. When you can’t find the muse in such a wide, overwhelming world, narrow your scope and force it to find you.

I’m looking to come up with a more extensive set for myself, and try using one of the techniques to write a song or so a week. It’s a challenge, but therein lay the fun.

Dinosaurs will die

So one thing I’ve felt over the last half-decade or so is the imminent distinction of an industry formula that’s been prevalent since the late eighties. That feed-it-to-the-public, cookie cutter, MTV-driven narrow street known as the music business. Sold as a package, bands have been pieced together and pruned for popularity by major douchebag-backers since the introduction of ‘markets’ and ’strategies’, a trend formed in the early eighties (probably coke-induced), that until now has worked. But people are starting to catch on. With the advent of the internet, there is an ability for the individual to find tastes they find works for them, instead of relying on a few bands in a few select genres to choose from. This is the Long Tail of things.

This has caused industry dinosaurs, who don’t know the first thing about what people actually want, to panic and just push the same formulaic drivel even harder.

Shira sent me a great link today: Nickelback’s formulaic suckiness.

That about sums it up. Quick, sort of incoherent, ranting post. I don’t even want to get into the Grammys right now.

[mp3] Native Sun

So I shuffled together a few demos yesterday on my day off. My girlfriend of two years, Shira, has always been a great supporter of my music and so I wanted her to have some new tracks to keep her company when she heads off to Europe. She will be there for a month and a half, and I will miss her desperately. I poured a little of that into these track recipes.

Below is the first of these demos, “Native Sun”. We rely on the sun, take it for granted, and guide our lives by its presence. Now Imagine its disappearance- no more warmth, no more bright light to see by, even the moon would fade into the new darkness. But the life that’s been given to us was only possible natively. One planet closer or further away we wouldn’t- in fact, don’t- exist. So what may work for one celestial body may not work for another. It is a native sun.

And of course, as one of those all-too-sensitive songwriters, I’ve built this as an analogy for heartbreak…

Tada, Enjoy.