I watched the movie Dig! last night.
It's a documentary about the fortunes (and misfortunes) of The Dandy Warhols and The Brian Jonestown Massacre, two west-coast rock bands which began making music in the mid- to late-nineties, and who had a close and sometimes contentious relationship as they took widely divergent paths towards "success."
It's a really compelling look at how talent and ambition interacts with the music business and vice versa. I'm not really a fan of either band, especially the DW's (their hit was "Bohemian Like You"), but like all good movies, this one is less about particulars and more about the characters and relationships.
My one complaint, which was the same one I had about I am Trying to Break Your Heart, is that there wasn't much of an attempt to capture the creative process. But that criticism may be more about the question of the nature of the creative process.
Like if there was a movie made about Burn Rome Burn... would it really show me, sitting in my living room, writing lyrics and singing to my cat and dog? 'Cause that's how I write. But it would make for a pretty boring movie.
It's much more intriguing to just portray the finished product, the fruits of the labors, rather than the labors themselves.
Anyway, Dig! is worth checking out, for the fight scenes alone.
And I'm not kidding.
There are some great fight scenes.
jbg
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
sdfjlkie (My cat typed that)
Blah.
Some weeks, you just have to say "Blah."
Or even "Bah."
And this seems to be one of those weeks.
Nothing really all that exciting going on.
The usual work, students, rehearsals... although we're not rehearsing Thursday, which will give me some time to polish up a few tunes on which I've been working. Last week, I played three new tunes for the band, and it seemed like everyone was into them. I figure that if a tune impresses Gina, my sister, and my bandmates... that's good enough for me.
These new tunes are the first since I had my "New Year's cleansing" moment, and threw out a bunch of songs I wrote last fall. Actually, one of the tunes I just gutted and rewrote and it turned out so much better I had to keep it.
SOMEDAY WE'LL WATCH THE HIGHWAY BURN Saw the night leave us behind Saw the light, it left us blind We tried and tried to see it through But all along you knew that Someday We'd watch the highway burn And you'd say "I wish that we could stay Until it's all gone away" Then shadows fall across our hearts As all we built just falls apart But I'm still here, and I've got nothing else to lose So tell me how you knew that Someday We'd watch the highway burn And you'd say "I wish that we could stay Until it's all gone away" One more time for all those years One more time, then disappear I'm still, I'm still a travesty in blue So tell me how you knew that Someday We'll watch the highway burn And you'll say "I wish that we could stay Until it's all gone away"
This song is going to be a good BRB song... it's uptempo, it's concise, but it's also pretty savvy. I don't think the lyrics are anything special, but I do like them a lot better than what I originally wrote for this tune. The whole idea, that sometimes things are just doomed from the start of a relationship, has some pretty universal appeal, I think.
While those lyrics may be a little light... I've been struggling with another song pretty consistently for over 3 months. It's really a beast. But I've got this feeling about it... that it's one of those "special" songs that doesn't come around that often. So I've been really, really critical about it, especially the lyrics. It's actually a pretty good lesson in learning how to let go of lyrics or music that is decent, but not great. It's so easy to say to yourself "Well, Self, those lyrics are okay. They're not going to make anyone throw-up, or send anyone's underwear crawling up his or her asscrack (and speaking of crack)."
What was I saying? I guess that mediocrity is the crack whore of songwriting. What? Let's try again. Mediocrity is... easy to give in to. And with this other new song, I just feel like if I keep digging, if I keep working, if I'm not afraid to throw out decent lyrics and start over... I'm going to get it to a place it deserves to be. The process so far has involved writing lyrics for the entire song several times, and then pretty much throwing them all out except the last verse, which was so strong I moved it to the first verse.
That's a common occurrence. You write and write and finally at the end of the song get into what you really want to talk about, only to realize that everything at the beginning where you started, sucks in comparison to where you arrived at the end. Dylan (not Thomas) had this whole thing about making every line sound like it could be the first line of the song. Or something like that. It's a great goal to have. Anyway, this new (and as yet untitled) song has now got two out of three verses written and solid. What it needs now is a hook for a chorus and lyrics for the bridge and third verse.
(UNTITLED) We're all waiting on an angel and a flood To come down and wash our hands clean of the blood So we built an ark And let the dark Embrace us while we pray But the waters never rose and the angel never came And the buildings that hang along the lake Swallow up our lightening from the moment we awake And in between the northern star And the old train cars A lion sits and waits Wishing that his fragile heart would just go on and break
jbg
The usual work, students, rehearsals... although we're not rehearsing Thursday, which will give me some time to polish up a few tunes on which I've been working. Last week, I played three new tunes for the band, and it seemed like everyone was into them. I figure that if a tune impresses Gina, my sister, and my bandmates... that's good enough for me.
These new tunes are the first since I had my "New Year's cleansing" moment, and threw out a bunch of songs I wrote last fall. Actually, one of the tunes I just gutted and rewrote and it turned out so much better I had to keep it.
SOMEDAY WE'LL WATCH THE HIGHWAY BURN Saw the night leave us behind Saw the light, it left us blind We tried and tried to see it through But all along you knew that Someday We'd watch the highway burn And you'd say "I wish that we could stay Until it's all gone away" Then shadows fall across our hearts As all we built just falls apart But I'm still here, and I've got nothing else to lose So tell me how you knew that Someday We'd watch the highway burn And you'd say "I wish that we could stay Until it's all gone away" One more time for all those years One more time, then disappear I'm still, I'm still a travesty in blue So tell me how you knew that Someday We'll watch the highway burn And you'll say "I wish that we could stay Until it's all gone away"
This song is going to be a good BRB song... it's uptempo, it's concise, but it's also pretty savvy. I don't think the lyrics are anything special, but I do like them a lot better than what I originally wrote for this tune. The whole idea, that sometimes things are just doomed from the start of a relationship, has some pretty universal appeal, I think.
While those lyrics may be a little light... I've been struggling with another song pretty consistently for over 3 months. It's really a beast. But I've got this feeling about it... that it's one of those "special" songs that doesn't come around that often. So I've been really, really critical about it, especially the lyrics. It's actually a pretty good lesson in learning how to let go of lyrics or music that is decent, but not great. It's so easy to say to yourself "Well, Self, those lyrics are okay. They're not going to make anyone throw-up, or send anyone's underwear crawling up his or her asscrack (and speaking of crack)."
What was I saying? I guess that mediocrity is the crack whore of songwriting. What? Let's try again. Mediocrity is... easy to give in to. And with this other new song, I just feel like if I keep digging, if I keep working, if I'm not afraid to throw out decent lyrics and start over... I'm going to get it to a place it deserves to be. The process so far has involved writing lyrics for the entire song several times, and then pretty much throwing them all out except the last verse, which was so strong I moved it to the first verse.
That's a common occurrence. You write and write and finally at the end of the song get into what you really want to talk about, only to realize that everything at the beginning where you started, sucks in comparison to where you arrived at the end. Dylan (not Thomas) had this whole thing about making every line sound like it could be the first line of the song. Or something like that. It's a great goal to have. Anyway, this new (and as yet untitled) song has now got two out of three verses written and solid. What it needs now is a hook for a chorus and lyrics for the bridge and third verse.
(UNTITLED) We're all waiting on an angel and a flood To come down and wash our hands clean of the blood So we built an ark And let the dark Embrace us while we pray But the waters never rose and the angel never came And the buildings that hang along the lake Swallow up our lightening from the moment we awake And in between the northern star And the old train cars A lion sits and waits Wishing that his fragile heart would just go on and break
jbg
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Learning How to Die
No, I'm not in one of those moods.
Well, not really.
But I did just finish reading the Greg Kot book about Wilco, entitled (you guessed it) "Learning How to Die."
The verdict? What did Frank Zappa say about rock journalism? That it's "people's who can't write, writing about people who can't talk, for people who can't read..."
I'm paraphrasing, but you get the idea.
Actually, the book is pretty good, but mostly because of the subject matter. Jeff Tweedy offers some interesting insights into creativity and music, and although you get the sense he's incredibly difficult to work with, you also see that the integrity that is a constant in Wilco's music is not an accident. The man represents flawed genius. All his faults, all his mistakes... but instead of ruining his art, they actually contribute to it.
Hendrix was the same way. His insecurities about singing, his sloppy playing... just go to enhancing his music. It's almost as if the faults make this person, this artist, into a real three dimensional person, and putting brilliant art in the context of its fallible creator... has a certain weight that I identify with strongly.
It makes it more poignant. It makes it more human I guess. Scarily human. I've had this fascination with faults and integrity in art lately, and LHtD spoke to those issues. Good times.
So now it's back to the grind. We're staying disciplined this week and getting our usual rehearsals in, which is good. Really starting to shape the four songs we're going to try to record sometime in the next few months. And I'm about ready to bring four new songs in that I feel may be some of the best ones yet.
I've been struggling a little lately because... I haven't been settling lyrically. I've been very hard on myself and I've been getting halfway through these songs, and then throwing out the lyrics and starting over. Sometimes four times a song. But every skin I shed, I feel like I'm getting a little closed to the serpent.
Whoa. Where did that come from?
jbg
Actually, the book is pretty good, but mostly because of the subject matter. Jeff Tweedy offers some interesting insights into creativity and music, and although you get the sense he's incredibly difficult to work with, you also see that the integrity that is a constant in Wilco's music is not an accident. The man represents flawed genius. All his faults, all his mistakes... but instead of ruining his art, they actually contribute to it.
Hendrix was the same way. His insecurities about singing, his sloppy playing... just go to enhancing his music. It's almost as if the faults make this person, this artist, into a real three dimensional person, and putting brilliant art in the context of its fallible creator... has a certain weight that I identify with strongly.
It makes it more poignant. It makes it more human I guess. Scarily human. I've had this fascination with faults and integrity in art lately, and LHtD spoke to those issues. Good times.
So now it's back to the grind. We're staying disciplined this week and getting our usual rehearsals in, which is good. Really starting to shape the four songs we're going to try to record sometime in the next few months. And I'm about ready to bring four new songs in that I feel may be some of the best ones yet.
I've been struggling a little lately because... I haven't been settling lyrically. I've been very hard on myself and I've been getting halfway through these songs, and then throwing out the lyrics and starting over. Sometimes four times a song. But every skin I shed, I feel like I'm getting a little closed to the serpent.
Whoa. Where did that come from?
jbg
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Crest
Why the heck am I awake?
After a week of poor sleep and stretching myself thin with rehearsals and promoting our CD release show, I capped it all off by going to bed at about 4:30 am last night, thrilled at the prospect of sleeping until Super Bowl kick-off today... only to find myself awake at about 9:30 am and not able to go back to sleep.
Typical.
The good news is this: last night's CD release show at Martyrs' was a resounding success. The club was happy, the crowd was happy... and it all pretty much went off without a hitch. Our set was... a little sloppy. I guess it's inevitable that a night meant to celebrate the 18 month process of recording Bottle Boy would wind up being a little anti-climactic emotionally. Which is how I feel this morning. But it was a great time.
The whole week, from getting played on WXRT three times, to doing an hour long interview on Fearless Radio, to getting written up in the Onion and the new monthly Wassup Live, felt empowering. Like things are really starting to happen for us at a little bit of different level. The key is (and this is probably the source of my morning sleeplessness): what now?
Well... now the real work begins. Now Bottle Boy goes off into the world and starts to (hopefully) work its way into people's hearts. Now we try to remain as pro-active as we were in booking and promoting the party last night. Now we lay out a plan and get Bottle Boy into the hands of people in the industry. And some of that is already underway.
Through our manager, we've gotten about a half dozen copies out to labels and "big time" talent scouts. So it'll be interesting to see what kind of feedback we get from that.
What does it mean, Corky? If only I knew.
jbg
The good news is this: last night's CD release show at Martyrs' was a resounding success. The club was happy, the crowd was happy... and it all pretty much went off without a hitch. Our set was... a little sloppy. I guess it's inevitable that a night meant to celebrate the 18 month process of recording Bottle Boy would wind up being a little anti-climactic emotionally. Which is how I feel this morning. But it was a great time.
The whole week, from getting played on WXRT three times, to doing an hour long interview on Fearless Radio, to getting written up in the Onion and the new monthly Wassup Live, felt empowering. Like things are really starting to happen for us at a little bit of different level. The key is (and this is probably the source of my morning sleeplessness): what now?
Well... now the real work begins. Now Bottle Boy goes off into the world and starts to (hopefully) work its way into people's hearts. Now we try to remain as pro-active as we were in booking and promoting the party last night. Now we lay out a plan and get Bottle Boy into the hands of people in the industry. And some of that is already underway.
Through our manager, we've gotten about a half dozen copies out to labels and "big time" talent scouts. So it'll be interesting to see what kind of feedback we get from that.
What does it mean, Corky? If only I knew.
jbg
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