25 January 2009

"Hold on. I'm Comin!"

Sorry to duck out for the last two weeks. I have plenty to report on, but it's been nice to live my musical life without thinking too hard (in an effort to have shit to write about). Nevertheless, I hope to have something up here in the next few days. In the meantime: one of my bands, The Randy Bandits has a new album dropping on Feb 10. Make sure to DL a copy from iTunes or Amazon.mp3 (link on sidebar) and lemme know what you think.

13 January 2009

One down... not so up.

This is being written at the end of night 1 of 5 consecutive nights in which I have either a rehearsal or gig with any one of three different bands.

It's 12:19 AM, and, while it only took me fifteen minutes to find parking, I am faced with another of my common post-gig dilemmas: I am fucking starving. It happens all the time: I get home from gigs at midnight having just expended a ton of energy performing and focusing on driving home while very tired, am hungry as hell, eat a small meal, and then go to bed. That is why I am in the shape I am in. Ugh. Well... perhaps I can distract myself from eating with a small rundown of what happened tonight. It is against my better judgment as I have another long one tomorrow, but I should get doing while the memories (and feelings) are fresh.

I left early (as always), sat in BQE traffic (as always), and parked only a few feet from the entrance to Parkside Lounge (as always). The routine of these Whistling Rufus weeknight gigs at Parkside has been nice. I get into the city ridiculously early, hang with Spiff (he's the early type too), and then either watch the preceding band's set or grab a seat at the bar out front and read. Tonight I opted for the latter and enjoyed (sort of) a Harpoon IPA and a few pages in my book. The band option was promising as they were a (somewhat) Traditional duo with a great lead singer on tour and heade for a gig in Pittsburgh tomorrow night, but I was feeling a little of sorts having had a nap earlier in the evening. In terms of sanity and health, the surprise opportunity to see Melissa at home and take a nap will probably serve me well in the long run (and by long, I mean the distance between here and Friday), but I wasn't quite as focused on the music as a result of them. Ah, yet another conflict to reconcile. My skipping the prior band seemed to matter little however, as one of the guys (Sam) from the group was still nice enough to lend us his guitar when Spiff and I found out we needed to do an impromptu set of originals as a duo. It seemed Trip and Emily were stuck at a WNYC event and wouldn't be there until some 45 minutes after gig time. Eek! So Spiff and I, fueled by collective deperation to keep contained the decent-sized crowd (honestly, you guys need to start coming 'cos we usually play to the furniture at Parkside Lounge) and my new-found desire to perform my material solo, decided that we would do a few tunes on our own.

I will spare you some the details, but I will tell you this: I have a ways to go before I can do solo shows with just me and the guitar. While there were no trainwrecks and I didn't completely embarrass myself, I am far from proud of my performance this evening. There were a few things working against me here: my lack of preparation for this happenstance and my lack of experience doing shows on my own. I don't blame myself too much for my not being prepared to do this, but I froze. I couldn't think of what songs to play, and, as I do not play the tunes I chose all that often, flubbed some chords and lyrics which snowballed into rather sloppy and sheepish performaces of some decent tunes. Quite frankly, I think the songs I chose to play were, from a songwriting standpoint, as strong as those that Spiff chose to play, but, while not a competition by any means, Spiff, having been doing solo gigs for some time now, came off far more polished and confident. As far as a lack of experience goes, I feel like it is worth noting that despite my years of writing songs and playing them with bands, I have only ever had two solo gigs in my life. I have done little one-song performances and open mics (though not in years), but the number of full solo shows I have done is a mere two. I guess the only way to get better is to go out and do 'em, but first I should learn the words, chords, and break the horrible habit I discovered this evening. Apparently, when I am either nervous or not getting the audience repsonse I am looking for or am feeling a general lack of confidence about the acutal composition of the song, I fuck with the phrasing of the song and wind up doing this weird speak/singing thing. Were I to do this in front of a crowd that had heard these tunes a million times, it would appear to be an interesting anamoly or a creative choice, but tonight (and all the other times that the audience doesn't already know the songs - which is roughly all the times) it just came off sounding like I didn't know what I was doing. I was nervous as hell as the cats that played before us were in the audience, as was my good friend, and Panda Cam bassist, Chris Cummings. Chris is my musical foil of sorts and we have a strangely antagonistic artistic relationship, but it tends to make us both better and I hold his musical taste and skills in the highest regard. This all could have been solved if I were in a place where I have an aresenal of originals in every mood, key, genre, etc. at the ready at all time, but I am not there yet. Looks like I have another thing to practice...

Emily actually only showed up about fifteen minutes late. Once she settled in and got tuned, she, Spiff, and I picked out some tunes we could "pull off" without Trip and set forth entertaining the ever-dwindling crowd. I played like shit from the moment we started. I knew my voice was not 100%, but my playing was even worse. I guess my confidence was pretty well-shaken by my unsuccessful portion of our impromptu solo set, because it took me a good deal of time to even fully focus on making music. This sort of situation is especially sticky when it comes to my playing upright. While I did have some formal training back in the day (7th and 8th grade), I have only recently started playing upright and it is evident in my shoddy tuning and technique. The interesting quandary, however, is that my actual possession of an upright bass in addition to my overall solid skills as an all-around musician score me more gigs than I probably deserve on the thing. Now I know what to play, but I don't do such a great job of it. You'd think that this would inspire me to practice more... No. It doesn't. Because I am stupid.

Emily, Spiff, and I did an okay job up there. One of the tunes I lead seemed to finally click tonight, and we seemed to lock into a solid groove on one of Spiff's numbers. This second positive was bolstered by Trip's entrance into the room, and, within a verse and half into the song as well. Things got better with Trip up there. Despite our becoming slowly more of a collective, we are still Trip's band. In addition to his being a little older (this matters the least but is still worth noting), he also knows much much more about this repertoire than we do and has a lot more experience performig it and making connections on the scene. It was honestly as though the kids were up there playing cops and robbers, and then dad showed up whipped 'em into a team of crack Krav Maga assassins. But despite Trip's calming and centering effect on the whole thing, my playing was still embarrassingly bad. Wrong notes abounding and no sense of time, I, at some point, decided I would go into auto-pilot on the tunes and instead focus on technique. In addition to my recognizing that this is a wholly shitty, unprofessional, and insensitive thing to do, Chris (our final audience member) confirmed it by saying I that looked as though I was in pain up there. Emily seemed to think I played well, and I tried my best to take her compliment, but the damage was done. This is not to say there weren't some nice moments up there tonight, but I am a sad to say that I played like ass - a fact unforgivable for a band full of such great musicians, and larger issue for a band which rehearses as little as we do.

So, due to tonight's failures, I have learned that in addition to my already ridiculous schedule, I need find time to learn how to and then practice performing the songs I have written until I can call upon any of them (with confidence) at any time, AND I need to spend a lot of time practicing the upright bass.

Anyone have any spare hours in the day? 26 or 27 might be nice. Wish me luck tomorrow.

(sufficiently distracted - and tired as hell - I may actually go to bed without snacking)

11 January 2009

Microphone Check! 1,2,3,4,5!

When I moved to Brooklyn nearly 7 years ago, it was because my girlfriend (now wife) and I realized that we a) we wanted to be with each other all the time, and b) could actually save money by living together and forgoing our weekly traveling odyssey involving New Jersey Transit, no less than two interstate highways, and no less than two bridges and/or tunnels, tolls, gas, etc. But the reason all of my friends, family, and colleagues assumed was driving me toward the "city of homes and churches" was certainly part of the allure as well. Nearly every time I would tell someone I was up and leaving the incredibly comfortable and stable suburban existence that I had carved out for myself in North Jersey, they would hem and haw a bit, but eventually come to terms with it and say something along the lines of, "well, New York City is where all the music is", or "better go now so you can become a rock star before it's too late", or something to that effect. Like I said: Melissa was my main motivation (though I didn't need much as I had fallen in love with Brooklyn on my first trip there a few years prior), but the access, as both a provider and a patron, to the music scene in NYC certainly sweetened the pot. I had had a whiff of it at the time, as my then current band regularly played gigs in the city, but I figured that once I came ashore in the Boro of Kings, I would hit the ground running and be either seeing or playing a show every night in no time! Well... it wasn't all that simple. Sure: I have had a decent couple of years as musician in this city, seeing as I already have a full time day- job. I have played some big name venues like the Knitting Factory, the Mercury Lounge, and the Living Room, but I have also seen my share of shit-holes and basments. I have played for hours on end for no pay, but I have also made some decent bank as part of the backup band for an acrobat in under an hour. It's been a mixed bag to say the least - and I have loved every minute of it.

I really thought I was the busiest I could ever be, musically speaking, a few years back. I was rehearsing once (or twice) a week and playing two gigs a month with the Randy Bandits, rehearsing once a week and playing one or two gigs a month with the Company Picnic, and picked up some freelance singing and bass gigs as well. It was crazy, but fabulous, and my abilities as an all-around musician were more highly-highly developed than they had been to date (but I guess if I can't say that at any point in time, I am doing something wrong). But when grad school rolled around, I needed to cut it back to one regular gig; and for lots of reasons (maybe another post someday), I chose the Randy Bandits. That worked out fine for a while, but, as I have mentioned before, I tend to get antsy. I also don't like to be limited to doing just one thing, so over the last several months my rehearsal/gig calendar has started to fill up quite nicely. And that leads us to this coming week...

Beginning tomorrow, this will be my first full week of living two lives ever. While I don't have anything on Saturday or Sunday, between rehearsals and gigs with three different bands, I am booked every night this week from Monday to Friday. Now, all you pro musicians out there may giggle to yourselves as many of you do 12 or 13 nights in a row and often do doubles (2 gigs in one night) on half of them, but riddle me this: how would you feel if after each gig, you needed to wake up early (and by early I mean 6 or 7 and not "before noon") the next morning in order to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed enough to motivate/contain/inspire/incite/incarcerate several successive groups of 25 to 30 eleven to fourteen year olds? Sound like fun?! Well, I will let you know. I am looking forward to this challenge as it has been my (thanks to this blog, not so) silent 2009 resolution to take my life as a performing musician more seriously, but I think this week is going to be something of a test for me. I forsee the following possible hindrances:
  • Illness - lack of sleep + shitty diet inherent in this sort of schedule = better chance of getting sick. sickness = weak/shitty voice. bad voice = bad gigs.
  • Poor Marital Performance - that sounds more like a symptom that can be cured by Viagra than I intended it to. :) Seriously: despite my warning and her promise of patience, I am nervous that at some point this week, either Melissa or I will crack. We love having quiet down-time together. It is not only restorative, but necessary in keeping both of us sane. this week's schedule will allow for very little time together, let alone its being quiet.
  • Poor Day Job Performane - every once in while, my kids at school (who know about my musical life outside of school) ask me about what would happen if I were to somehow become a big famous rock star. Would I still teach them or leave them in a lurch for fortune and fame? My rather lengthy, yet inconclusive, answer tends to unravel as follows: 1) I pity them for having a rather naïve understanding of the way the music industry works on any level below "Jay-Z", 2) I rail against said industry for allowing skinny boys like All-American Rejects hit the big-time while fatsos like me are denied the brass ring based on our waistlines (I know), 3) I tell them that I love them, 4) (and they can never make sense of this one) I try to explain that I probably make more as a teacher than I could as an entertainer as my being featured on a Jay-Z or All-American Rejects (or any other hyphenated musician's) track is not likely this century, and 5) I tell them I don't know because I have never been presented with the opportunity to work as much doing "that" (playing out) as i do "this" (teaching them). It looks like I might have an answer by the end of this week.
  • Burnout - all marital, employment, and general well-being aside (whoa), I just might not like this sort of thing. Perish the thought, but this just might be too much.
I hope to see some of you out this week. Teen Vogue will be there on Wednesday (I am not kidding). Perhaps you can buy me drink or some vegetables to help me through my week. Be sure to stop and ask how I am holding up as though a loved one has just passed. And be sure to cheer loudly as this might be your last chance to do so while I am in all my "full-time" glory. For those of you who I don't see: be sure to stay tuned. If I make it to next Saturday, I will write about it then.... wish me luck.

07 January 2009

Top 7 Albums of '08

I have already devoted a facebook group to this, but figured this might be a good place to post this as well.

"Why a top 7 list?", you may ask. Well, according to some people over at mahalo.com there were either about 800 or 37,o00 albums released in 2008. Either way, I think it's safe to say that very few of us listened to more than a negligible portion of these recordings. At last count, I purchased/listened to a mere 48 of them, so I think it would be a bit presumptuous to come up with a list of my "top 25" or even "top 10". 7 seems to feel right. Here's the list:

1. Dungen - 4
2. Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago
3. Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks - Real Emotional Trash
4. Kanye West - 808's & Heartbreak
5. Blitzen Trapper - Furr
6. Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes
7. The Gaslight Anthem - The '59 Sound

(Very) Honourable Mentions:

Guns n' Roses - Chinese Democracy
Dr. Dog - Fate
Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend

What were your faves?

05 January 2009

Resolve

Like most other public school teachers in America, today I was faced with the rather foreboding prospect of returning to school after a long, long break. Don't get me wrong, I really dig my job, but I had gotten accustomed to leading another life over the last two weeks. And while I knew that a life consisting mainly of playing the guitar, snuggling with my wife, and drinking coffee was not likely a sustainable one, it was nice to live the dream if only for a little while. I can't remember the last time I didn't get to bed before 3 AM for three nights in a row.

But it wasn't just about sleeping in. It was about seeing what life might be like if I were only a performer. I probably put more time in practicing the guitar over these last two weeks than I had in the entire two months prior. I wrote a few new tunes. I spent some time and money on my home recording setup. These are the things I just never get around to during my average school week. Some of that may change without the impending threat of grad school hovering over my every time related decisions, but I also know myself better than to believe I will devote all of that new-found time to being a better musician - but who knows? Y'see: I am not one for outwardly making New Year's Resolutions, I think I did make some significant decisions about life over Winter Break.

I think it was Adam Levy's doing...

I had known his name for a few years. In addition to seeing it in the credits to Norah Jones albums (as a guitarist and songwriter) and on posters up on the walls as Banjo Jim's, my wife was actually in Marie Ponsot's poetry workshop with him last year. I also knew that he was one of those guys Russ always talks about. Now: you need to understand something about my friend Russ. In addition to being a killer keyboard player and great composer, Russ is one of those cats that knows about the "guys behind the guys" - or "the guys that so-and-so listen to when they're not busy being so-and-so". You know: those musicians (and I am guessing that this goes for all other art forms) who aren't quite famous enough for your square sister-in-law to have heard of them, yet still has an unbelievably strong rep. amongst hip (not to be confused with hipSTER, they never know of these types) musicians and the like. Anyway: I know that last year when I would pull off a particularly tasty guitar fill (with a bit of tight delay), Russ would compliment me for doing some of "that Adam Levy shit". Yeah. Adam Levy is that guy.

As it goes, my buddy CJ (college roomie, fellow musician/teacher type, the Elwood to my Jake) was in town during break to celebrate his birthday. We decided in addition to catching dinner with friends, we would spend the remainder of the evening bar-hopping in Manhattan. Since I am a bit OCD and generally need a game plan before I go anywhere, I suggested that rather than chase cheap booze, we should look for free music as the Village, East Village, Lower East Side trifecta is rife with free music these days. (side note: At these gigs, musicians only get paid by "passing the hat" during their set, though, strangely, my bands tend to make more money at these gigs than at those for which the audience has been charged a cover, however, I would like that tradition to continue, so please take care of the entertainers.) I purused ye olde interweb and targeted a couple of options, reminding CJ that the places with free tunes charge the same drink prices as those without, and threw together a mental list of who was playing where and at what time and reported back to the birthday boy (who was sitting on the couch across from me). In the time it took me to wrangle up some free entertainment options, CJ sured up the dinner side of things and, in the process, found out our friend Ryan was playing a free show at an Irish bar on MacDougal at 9 PM. This was strangely limiting as we didn't figure to get out of dinner until 7:30ish, but Ryan is the man, and shit was free, so we figured on making it happen. If we played our cards right however, I still figured we'd be able to catch Adam Levy (of Russ reference and poetry class fame) at 8 PM at Rockwood Music Hall. This place has quickly become my favourite spot for gigging and seeing live music and I was looking to show it off to CJ. It's small, has impeccable sound, has a "quality" to "less than" music ration of 85:15, and there is never a cover charge. When CJ texted Ryan back about our plans, he echoed these sentiments as he figured on catching the early part of Adam Levy's set before heading out to his own 9 PM gig.

Dinner was set for 5:30 at Otto. This place is borderline touristy, as it's co-owned by Mario Batali and Joe Bastianich (son of Lydia from my fave PBS cooking show), but it's crazy affordable, came highly recommended by CJ's friend Brooke, who was joining us for dinner, and has a wine list (some four times longer than the menu itself) featuring wines ranging in price from $29 to $1600. In addition to CJ, Brooke, Melissa, and I, my friend Soo and her fiance John came along. Soo and I were mad tight back in college. She and I even road-tripped it up to CJ's folks' house in the Birkshires back in the day. We listened to Leon Redbone and, despite the fact that she had no clue as to what she was communicating, she read the baseball box scores aloud to me along the way. Yeah, we had fun. We never dated, never even considered it, yet drifted apart some time after my wife and I got serious. I never fully understood this (still don't), but after seeing her again I have high hopes of rekindling this friendship. I also remembered how much I dig her man, John. In addition to his picking up (and throwing down) some Old School references, he is also a public school teacher, and seemed to be knit of something of the same cloth as me and some of my dopey friends. Here's to seeing Soo and John in '09! John split after dinner and, sadly, so did Melissa. I was hoping she would come along as I just knew she would dig Adam Levy and we hadn't actually seen a show together in some time. We kissed goodbye at the 8th St. R-train station and Soo, Brooke, CJ, and I marched onward through the rather mild winter evening.

We showed up just in time. Rockwood is small and fills up quick, but due to the latenick nature of so many New Yorker's, you can generally find a place to stand if you get there as sets are turning over. We got a great spot in the corner where the bar meets the window, said our hellos to Ryan and his crew, and grabbed a drink. Now, I should confess: While not a heavy drinker, I am generally a beer drinker; yet on this evening, I had already had two glasses of wine, and without even giving it a thought, the phrase "So-Co and Diet with a lime" tumbled from my lips when the bartender asked what I wanted to drink. While this story should generally extol the virtues of great music and camaraderie, I am fully willing to admit that the amount of Southern Comfort imbibed may have had some effect on my enjoyment of the music that night.

I learned a lot about "sitting in" that night. I don't do nearly enough of it. This is partially because I don't have the confidence or the stomach to schmooze my way into gigs, but it's also because I have built myself a rather insular circle of musical conspirators. I mean: I truly love playing with the people I do so with on the regular, but there is a part of me that would love to have my skills tested (and hopefully appreciated) with another group of players. In addition to giving me an excuse to play more and, in turn, learn more about collaborating, it could potentially open me up to an entirely new universe of players and gig/venue opportunities. I might even make a little scratch, as the circle I run in doesn't tends to play for love and love alone. Maybe I should get some business cards made... I bring all this "sitting in" stuff here, because, in addition to getting to see one of the better guitar players in town play, Shawn Pelton was sitting in on drums. He is one of the, or perhaps, THE go-to session/gig guy in NYC. He's also the house drummer on SNL. I had first heard of him from my friend Vinny - who, having been on tour with Smokey Robinson and Muse and done live sound for several high-profile events like the VMA's or NBA all-star week, only talks about top guys. While I certainly didn't recognize the face (Ryan actually pointed it out), I was certainly familiar with his playing. He understands groove like no one else. He is a master of subtlety. He is one of the biggest names in the world of professional drumming, and there he was: sitting in with Adam Levy. Before the band even hit, I knew we were in for a real treat.

Adam Levy is a little older than your average Rockwood entertainer. He is a little chubbier (though not fat) than your average guitar hero. He is far more soft-spoken than your average frontman. As a not-so-skinny, not-so-young, not-charismatic-enough-to-really-front a band type of guy, I found his mere presence downstage center incredible reassurring, appealing, even inspiring. While I have long since given up on my rock n' roll dreams, I was finally able to mentally recast myself in a different light. Leave it to Neddy Naricissism, yours truly, to go so far, but I couldn't help but think, from the moment I laid eyes and ears upon this guy, that I too could pull this thing off. The music certainly helped. See: he writes decidedly solid songs. They are by no means remarkable, but therein lies their charm. They are compositionally very strong, highly melodic, a bit formulaic (but I am a junkie for that), a little clever, but never mind-blowingly awesome. There's no evidence of literary pretensions one might find in much of today's indie rock, nor any of the musical fussiness you might find in the same scene. He writes consistently stalwart and soulful tunes about love lost and found. Don't get me wrong: I loved these songs! They far better than most of what I churn out, but tunes of this quality (as opposed to those from the McCartneys, Zappas, Waits, and Stevies of the world) felt somehow attainable - and he played a whole set of them! Tune after tune, SoCo/Diet/Lime after SoCo/Diet/Lime, I was memerized not only by his middle-of-the-roadness but by the fantasy that I too could play a set of sturdy tunes on a tuesday night at Rockwood with two of my friends just sitting in! The bass player was playing off charts for chrissakes! AND LEVY'S TONE!!! In addition to only playing right notes (more in a minute), the actual sound he was able to produce was phenomenal. It sounded exactly like am electric guitar should sound. Furthermore, while he did have great gear to work with (what appears to be a stock vintage Gibson ES-335 (Sunburst finish) played it through the house guitar amp - a Bogner Shiva that I can't seem to get to sound right without turning it up to 11), Levy proves it's all about that touch. I am guessing he could milk quality tone from a toy banjo. Timbre was only part of the picture, however. What he chooses to play is the other piece of the puzzle. For a guy with a rep. like his, he never plays more than is necessary. As a matter of fact, his guitar playing is so good that you don't notice it until he pops out of the larger texture to throw in a tasty lick or brief solo. It's all about subtlety - something the younger wanna-be-rockstar in me could have never appreciated. It's the kind of thing that now makes guys like Robbie Robertson, Izzy Stradlin, and Mick Taylor some of my faves. These guys (and Levy is certainly right up there on my faves list now) always play for the song and not for the solo. Equally influenced by country, jazz, blues, and R&B guitar playing, Adam Levy demonstrated in one set exactly the style I had been aspiring to for the last two years - I just couldn't yet put my finger on it.

Wow! Do I just wanna be Adam Levy?! Weird. I know: I do shit like this all the time. Every few months, I discover or rediscover some musician, draw some imaginary parallel between and me and him or her or them, and then make it my "life's work" to model my every musical decision on said connection. Who out there remembers when I though I was Elvis Costello? Dave Grohl? Chris Connelly? Ben Folds? or The Rolling Stones? Shamefully, I do. But this feels somehow different. It feels not only attainable but SUStainable. If I could revamp some old tunes, come up with some new clever, solid ones, write out some charts so people could sit in, and practice guitar a bit more, I could play a tuesday night slot at Rockwood. I could probably do that in perpetuity and be, for the first time I can think of, completely musically satisfied. Lofty Goals, eh? :P I know: there are songwriters of various qualities that do this every night. It's no big deal, right? Wrong. Despite my years of experiences playing live music, I have done exactly...wait for it... two solo sets. Maybe I should stop hiding behind my friends and my fat excuses (literally: excuses about my weight) and start playing shows on my own. Anyone wanna book me?

Towards the end of the set - sometime after I noticed what appeared to he the bassist's seven year old daughter cheering excitedly when Levy introduced band members - sometime after Levy bought the entire bar a round of Maker's Mark (I wisely declined) - I turned back to CJ and said something to the effect of, "you just saw an incredible set for free at the best venue in town and the band bought you a drink... remind me why you don't live in New York City?" He laughed a knowing laugh - but I wasn't talking to CJ. I was reminding myself of how lucky I am to have nights like that - nights that literally (and I know this sounds corny) can change the course of your life.

We eventually met up with my buddy Chris and moseyed on over to Ryan's gig where I drank a few more SoCo/Diet/Limes and learned even more about sitting in - but that feels like a different story. Maybe next time...

02 January 2009

Why we're all here.

I am only moderately narcissistic. I am even less naïve. I am completely aware of the fact that "just because it happens to me doesn't mean it's important" - and yet - here we are. So why blog about being a musician in NYC? Why contribute to the already bulging deluge of internet missives about the "next big buzz band"? Why share dopey stories about teaching kids about music? Why bother spending time that I could be using to kiss my wife or practice guitar or - god forbid - sleeping typing at no one? Because I think I have an interesting story to tell.

I am (at the time of this writing) 31 years old - well past the age at which point musicians are "discovered" -, overweight, and generally sit precipitously on the edge of conceit and self-loathing as a musician. I sing, write songs, take great pride in my arranging and recording skills, play a number of instruments (most notably guitar, electric bass, upright bass, and piano) in New York City: a place where there are so many musicians playing every night of the week that the vast majority of the music made (save the bits that are featured in the Village Voice or Time Out) go completely unnoticed. I am a very competent - dare I say - well-above average musician, but by no means the top of the heap. The ratio of money I spend on gear, equipment maintenance, recording studios, drinks when the venue is not picking up the tab, and gas and tolls to get to my gigs to the money I make playing them is borderline irresponsible. Yet I play regularly with a few different bands, have no intention of stopping or slowing down, and am constantly on the lookout for other means to musical fulfillment.

When I am not rehearsing or playing gigs, I am paid a very good wage by the City of New York to teach Middle Schoolers in Brooklyn how to make and appreciate music. Though painfully aware of the old adage "Those who can't teach", I love the time I spend with my students and wouldn't give it up for anything. My life as a performing musician informs my every decision in the classroom and my kids, in turn, inform many of my musical decisions. My salary allows me to continue my "second life" despite the aforementioned sad ratio, yet the time I spend earning it and the long history of failed musicians "settling" for teaching often keep me from making any real headway in the world of professional performers.

I am married to one of the most patient women in the world - yet there are tomes-worth of stories about male musicians and their "old ladies"; and in all of them no one (the players or the played) looks the part of the hero. Despite her knowing about my "dual-life" and the time involved in leading it when our relationship began, my limited availability is a frequent source of frustration for her. She inspires much of the music I make, yet the time I spend making it keeps me from her side. I take her time for granted and yet speak of starting a family in the next breath (yet another instance of my wanting EVERYTHING). I love my wife unlike anything else in the world yet continually struggle to be both a good husband and a good musician. To be clear: the situation is by no means dire (lest my family and friends worry), but I think this bugs her even more than she lets on, and that makes me sad.

Like any good self-obessed artist, I am wholly engrossed by my own narrative. As a musician, a cultural consumer, and a man with a steady paycheck, I am constantly serving as music supervisor to this movie I am living - my iPod, collection of LP's, CD's, and MP3's serving as the soundtrack. The music (both new releases and musicological "digs") I listen to both informs and taints the music I play. I am in constant critical dialogue with my students about how recorded music serves as a part of our lives and the lives of others. There is so much music coming in and out of my speakers, ears, and mouth, that my wife can't keep track of the differences between Bon Iver, Bon Jovi, and Bach.

Looking back at everything I just wrote, I am thrilled to see how this all turns out - and I hope you are too. My story if rife with strife and choc full o' cognitive dissonances. I am planning to tell much of it here. I want to offer new insight into the world of a musician performing in NYC. I want to share my experiences as a NYC public school teacher in hopes of convincing the world that it is simultaneoulsy the hardest and greatest gig in the world. I want to find a way to figure out how to treat my wife like the goddess she is - and writing helps me sort shit out. I want to have a music blog like every other 25-35 year old douchebag who has an Emusic account. I want to explore how all of these ideas and circumstances conflict and connect. I want to write about it in public because this is the internet and I can. I want people to hear my story. Sure, it's a tall order, but it's a new year and anything is possible.

Panda Cam

Yeah... I am not sure how long we'll actually use that name, but it's who we are for now, so we'll go from there.

A few years ago, I was in a band called The Company Picnic. After playing for years in a "serious" rock band (big blog post to come on this one) and never being quite satisfied by my sideman status, I started The Company Picnic in an effort to front my own band and have complete creative control. I would write all the material, call all the shots, and, in turn, garner all of the supposed praise. I was even so cocksure that I was up-front about my intentions when I called upon Poot (my oldest friend and musical conspirator) to play drums, Luke (my best friend, roommate at the time, and the best singer I know) to play guitar, and Chris (my friend via Luke via High School and the artistic "yin" to my "yang") to play bass. I think I even told them that if they agreed to join MY band they would need to play exactly what *I* told them to. Well... that all lasted about two rehearsals - but my supreme reign didn't end as result of any sort of mutiny but, rather, because I realized that a) I prolly didn't have the charisma, confidence, bank of songs/ideas, or leadership skills to pull it off, and b) because these other guys were great musicians with great ideas. So The Company Picnic had a good time writing, rehearsing, hanging out, recording, gigging, and drinking wine for about two years. Then life happened. Luke and I went to grad school. Poot's job and relationship with his lady got more serious. Chris got a "real" job. It wasn't so much that we wanted to quit - we just didn't have any other options. So we quit.

At some point last year, my wife's best friend, and one of my favourite musical conspirators, Stacey Wong and I got to talking. Despite my grad school commitments I was itching to do something more with my musical life than be a Randy Bandit. Stacey, having just completed a course of study at audio engineering school and having recently seriously taken up playing bass, was looking to try out her new skills. After TOO MANY conversations over AIM, we finally decided that we would create a new project wherein we would write and arrange tunes using digital multi-tracking software and then perform them - half live and half pre-recorded. Based on a separate AIM convo, we decided we would call this project Panda Cam. Knowing full well that neither one of us can get ANYTHING done without firm deadlines, Stacey decided that we would use a gig she had already booked for herself to premiere our new "band". We got together a few times, tried out some tunes, drank some wine, recorded some stuff, and realized we really liked working together. Unfortunately, we also realized we had bitten off a bit more than we could chew. While we were stoked to try out this new method (to us anyway) of making music, we knew there was no way we could get it together in time for the gig; so we called Luke (the aforementioned Company Picnic guitarist/roommate/best friend). We decided we would do a little trio thing wherein we would all write songs and all sing under the Panda Cam banner, and then we would go our separate ways so Stacey and I could continue without our aforementioned scheme. So we all contributed some songs, all sang, Stacey played bass, Luke played guitar, and played... wait for it... DRUMS (I KNOW!). We had a blast working together, played the gig with moderate success, and left it at that.

Now listen: One of the things you gotta understand about me is my need to rock. It sounds corny, but despite my skills and experience in the classical and jazz worlds in addition to my interest in musical subtlety, there is a part of me that needs to strap on my electric guitar, turn it up to 11, and scream my ass off. It's inescapable and something that's been missing from my musical life since The Company Picnic disbanded. So in late 2008 with the end of grad school on the horizon, I decided I would use my soon-to-be-reclaimed time to get my rock on. Using the knowledge gained and a lot of the songs I wrote for my many past-band experiences and much of the personnel from The Company Picnic, I planned to form the most fun and rocking band around. I called up Luke and Chris and we brought Stacey aboard to play souped-up versions of all of our best songs (past and present) under my general guidance. Sure, I would be the "leader", but we would ALL sing, ALL write, and ALL have a good timg. For a minute I even considered being the drummer in this band to both quietly control the band's direction while shunning the spotlight downstage center, but then I realized that I am a shitty drummer - but anyone who has spent any time playing live music in NYC knows that drummers are like needles inside haystacks inside bigger haystacks. But wait! Knowing full-well that he's been playing a lot of drums while recording his own album, I figured Spiff night be an ideal candidate. He's a helluva musician, though hardly a flashy drummer; but Spiff understands not only how music works in general but also that AC/DC rocks harder than anyone on the planet not because they are master technicians but because they are virtually unmatched in ensemble playing and that rock-solid, straightforward drumming is at the root of that. Sure enough, he was stoked to come aboard. So he decided he would come along and suddenly be in ALL of my bands. :) Lineup set. Ready to RAWK! and that brings us up to now.

but wait...

it just so happens that Stacey (who had been a catalyst of a similar nature earlier in this story) booked Panda Cam (the me, her and Luke version) as the opening act for Sarah Donner's CD release party at a local coffee shop. Recognizing this as an ideal way to get our new band jump-started, we decided to try to get a full-band set together for said gig. Everyone was a available, everyone was game, everyone was ready to RAWK!!! Oh - but wait... the gig is at a coffee shop. (I KNOW!) So once again, the rock must wait - but it's funny: we've assembled a few times and each time we have said, "well, we'll play quiet for THIS gig and then we'll start rocking", yet, we are really good at this mellow thing. I guess we'll just see where this takes us... come check us out at our first gig!! (details are on the sidebar)

Whistling Rufus

When I joined the Randy Bandits back in 2003, I was immediately taken by the musical abilities of their trumpeter/accordion player/banjo player/mandolin player/background vocalist/drummer Spiff Wiegand. In addition to the fact that he could play a million instruments (as a matter of fact, I thought myself something of a musical jack-of-all-trades... until I met Spiff), he was incredibly humble, gracious, and musically intelligent and sensitive. He is one of my fave guys to make music with.

I may be making this next little bit up, but I think it goes SOMETHING like this: At some point before I knew him, Spiff met Emily Eagan at music dork camp. She is a ridiculously good singer, a great multi-instrumentalist, an international whislting champion (I am not kidding), and, honestly, one of the nicest and most honest and open people I have ever met. At some point she met this guy named Trip Henderson, a NINJA harmonica player who still baffles me with his harp skills and knowledge of Traditional American music. At some point in 2007 or so, Emily, Trip, and Spiff started playing music together publicly. At some point in early 2008 they played a gig wherein a bass player sat in and they really liked the way it filled out their sound and wanted to experiment further. Spiff thought I might be the guy for the job, so they thought it would be fun to have me sit in for just one show, no strings attached (as they say in the world of college hookups). They sent me a list of 734 tunes (ok, like 20 or so) for each of which I found about 926 reference recordings. Ugh. I learned 'em the best I could and showed up to the sweatiest rehearsal of all time. (June in Brooklyn + 4 people in same small room - the air conditioner one might expect = yuck) I think Emily and Trip were impressed by the fact that not only had I learned all the tunes or could pick up on others quickly, but also by the facts that I played upright bass (almost in tune), guitar, and could sing and readily pick out harmonies. We did the gig. We had a blast. I made $23. Their experiment was over and their trio became a quartet.

Whistling Rufus is the best vocal harmony, harmonica, fiddle, ukulele, guitar, banjo, mandolin, accordion, jaw harp, bass, percussion, old time, country, bluegrass, blues, folk group in NYC. I play bass, guitar, sing, and generally have a great time. In addition to the fact that we play a ton all over the place, we also have a regular gig on the second Monday of every month at Parkside Lounge. We don't have a website, any recordings, or even an official mailing list, so I guess you'll just need to come and see us play!

01 January 2009

The Randy Bandits

I met Lucas Weiss in 1995. He introduced me to Chris Cummings later that year. They had gone to high school together. Chris Cummings introduced me to Russ Kaplan when I moved to Brooklyn in 2002. They had gone to college together. At the time, Russ was playing piano and singing with a new, small group called the Tree Frogs. One night, after a dance show in Williamsburg put on by Russ and Chris's friend (Russ was providing a quasi-improvised score with nothing but his Farfisa Organ), I told Russ that if he ever needed a bass player for his new band, he should call me. He said they didn't need one because his left hand was a force to be reckoned with. I forgot the conversation. ***time elapses*** Some time in early 2003, Russ called me and said that the new bass player for his band (I KNOW!), which had been renamed Jim Knable and the Randy Bandits, was going to be out of town for a big gig and asked if I would like to learn 26 songs in two rehearsals and sit in with them. I said OK. I learned the songs. I met Jim and Stephen and Regina and Spiff. On the way to said big gig, Jim Knable (the band's leader and songwriter), obviously impressed with my ability to play bass and learn tunes, asked me what other things I played in a fashion that seemed to imply that he would like to keep me on once their regular bassist returned. I humbly mumbled some nonsense about electric guitar and singing and stuff. We played the gig. I wore sunglasses. I took a 16 bar bass solo consisting of one note. Soon thereafter, I became a Randy Bandit.

Over five years and multitdinous configurations of our lineup have passed. As if stands now, I play electric guitar and (ocassionally) percussion or mandolin and sing both backing and (ocassionally) lead vocals. Jim writes great tunes and we play the hell out of 'em. You could easily call us "roots rock" or "country soul" or any number of other genre descriptions. I gave up trying a while ago. We do a great live show and are about to release our second full-length album, Golden Arrow.

I am sure various other info about my tenure with "the bandits" will unfold as this blog progresses, so for now you can check out our website for all sortsa goodies.