Alright, so last night I went to go see Godspeed You! Black Emperor. This is a continuation of the previous post, I'll pick up where that post left off. If you haven't read part one yet, do that first.
After experiencing the opening act, I decided I probably shouldn't leave my spot, since I was close to the aisle towards the front, and I could see everything pretty well. So I checked my phone, like everyone else in the audience, watched all of the Granada's advertisements for upcoming shows, etc., and did whatever else I could to kill a half an hour of time. Blah blah blah.
A little after nine, some of the artists come on stage, and one of the guitarists starts to make noise through some synthesizer or keyboard or digital thing I couldn't see. In my understanding, that's when the concert starts, right? They clearly weren't doing a soundcheck, and it was clear they were performing as though it was the start of their show. The guitarist continued to make noise, a low pedal E with some other noises, while the audience stayed in break mode. For the first five minutes of the set, half of the crowd was on their phones, or talking to their friends loud enough to be more than a distraction, while the band produced sound.
Just for clarification, this isn't the kind of band that plays four minute songs, talks to the audience a bunch, introduces the band, etc. There weren't even any vocal mics for anyone to talk on stage. I'm sure most of the audience at the show had heard the band before, and probably knew that what their music sounded like. This is a band that works in long forms, in layers, in extensive repetition and an interesting sense of minimalism. So I found it pretty annoying when the people on stage were taking themselves seriously, and the people at the show, who paid thirty bucks a ticket to be there, weren't even making the most of it.
I might just be a cranky jerk though.
Anyways, the audience seemed to shut up and react whenever the video or visual projections started in the background, which was more than five minutes before the sound started, and they really responded when the drummer played his first notes, as though he was the first musician to play anything, which of course wasn't the case.
The band was incredible. They played both music I had heard before and some that I hadn't, which is what I expected, since I'm not a diehard fan or anything, and haven't heard their whole catalogue. Like the opening act, the electronic artist, they thought in much longer phrases and ideas that brought out completely different feelings and emotions from me than any other concert experience has. They were clearly inspired by minimalism, in their sense of time and phrasing, not necessarily in their instrumentation and activity. It was an amazing, meditative rock and experimental music experience... well, it would have been, if it was in a different environment.
I've already hinted at the fact that the audience bugged me last night. First of all, they took a while to realize that music was happening. That wasn't really a big issue though. My biggest issue is that some people's self-awareness was kinda lacking, and that people can sometimes detract from the experience of other people for the own personal gain. I guess that happens at almost every concert, but this situation was so different from other experiences that it really messed with me.
At every rock concert I've ever been to, there have been people with their cameras taking pictures of the band, flashes going off, trying to capture the moment as it happens. But this concert was much more focused on provoking thought, introspection and meditation than other rock concerts, which are often about playing your favorite songs, being really loud and putting on a good show. And this different music that was trying to evoke different things and create a different experience made those people holding their iPhones up to the sky to take that perfect picture with their blinding flash look silly, in my opinion. Aren't you missing part of the experience by focusing on capturing it so perfectly? At what point do you put your cameras away and just listen to the music?
Cameras are annoying, but there were some other typical rock concert things that just didn't mesh with experience GY!BE was trying to create. I saw probably five or six drunk people trip down the one stair in front of me to my right, people that were a little too drunk to get up on their own. There was also a guy having a bad trip or something who walked with a blank stare into a large trashcan, kept walking until he ran the can up against a girl, stared off into space for ten seconds or so, and tumbled down to the floor, out cold until a friend tapped him on the shoulder and helped him back up. It's not cool to be blackout drunk or just so out of your mind that you're a hassle to other people who paid good money to watch a band and experience their music.
At most concerts these things aren't really a big deal to me, but this was such a different experience that every camera that flashed or drunk dude that fell down the stair was like a hard pinch waking me up from a fantastic dream.
The concert last night made me reconsider why I go to concerts. There are some bands where it's fine to go just to hang out with your friends, or to hear some songs you used to know a little bit. But there are plenty of other experiences where the concert isn't about dancing or having fun or drinking, necessarily, they're about the music. I personally enjoy both of those kinds of shows, but both of those scenarios aren't as enjoyable, and might seem awkward, unpleasant, or just terrible, with the wrong audience, regardless of how good the music is.
I loved the music last night. The audience was very detracting, though, and that's always something that can happen when you gather a large group of people in to a mostly standing-room venue that usually hosts musicians that perform the other kind of shows. I enjoyed seeing the musicians, but I think I would rather sit at home with the lights off by myself or with a few quiet friends than I would go see them live again.
M
Friday, October 12, 2012
10/12 - Live Music - Part One
This weekend is going to be pretty busy for me, but I knew a few weeks ago that two incredible acts were coming to Dallas this weekend: Dan Deacon and Godspeed You! Black Emperor. My schedule just didn't work out to go see Dan Deacon today, so I spent the money I saved on Godspeed You! Black Emperor last night at the Granada Theatre in Dallas.
I drove down after a long drive to and from work in McKinney, so I was on my third hour in the car on my way to the show. I love driving, but honestly, it tends to wear me out; whenever I road trip, I can't drive for long periods of time, except that time I ran over a dead deer in the middle of the night, then I was up the rest of the night. So my energy level was a little on the low side.
I made it, parked, forked over the thirty bucks for my ticket, and headed inside. I made it in time to catch the opening act, an electronics artist. When I walked in from outside, I thought I heard a loud hum, but didn't hear any music, but as I got closer to the stage, it turned out that the hum was the music. I found a spot unfortunately close to the subs, and tuned into what I assumed was probably his second song of at least five or six. I spent the rest of my first half hour zoned out inside the massive wall of sound the artist was producing, a low A flat rumble in the bass that came and slightly subsided in slow waves, with some tones in the middle that I couldn't quite make out, and some noise sustained through a tremolo effect, which the artist would carefully slow down or speed up.
At a certain point, I realized that this wasn't his second song, and as he kept going, I almost started to feel cheated; was he really just going to sustain a huge wall of the same sounds, with some background noise sped up and slowed down for a half an hour? I can't say that I was offended, because first of all, it doesn't matter, I'm just a listener, and second of all, I don't really know what I was expecting. I had no idea what to expect.
About half an hour in, though, you could tell he was building to a sort of climax. The tremolo processed noise was constantly picking up speed, adding volume, and getting more and more intense. I thought for sure I could tell when the peak would come, but sure enough, I guessed incorrectly over and over again, for at least five minutes. Even though I was sort of in the wrong mindset, waiting for what was next after this song instead of listening to what the artist was currently conveying, I was on the edge of my figurative seat, since I was standing. I couldn't wait for the peak.
And then it happened. It simply couldn't grow any larger, and just blew up. The sound seemed to be overwhelmed by itself, and slowly, I heard elements vanish that I hadn't even noticed when they were all together. At the end, nothing was left but silence, and in what seemed like moments (even though it was really minutes), I had gone from eagerly awaiting what was next to feeling very empty, longing for the wall of sound that used to be there, missing that large presence that was so overwhelming, yet so necessary.
When the artist carried his table off the stage after that single piece, instead of feeling cheated because he had only played one piece in a half an hour, I felt like I had cheated myself because I had taken in for granted. It's amazing how something as seemingly simple as sounds stretched over a long period of time could mean something so profound. In my case, it told the story of an amazing thing that lost its luster over time, simply because I got used to it and made myself too comfortable with it, and after taking it for granted, it left me, and I suddenly realized again how amazing that thing initially was.
M
I drove down after a long drive to and from work in McKinney, so I was on my third hour in the car on my way to the show. I love driving, but honestly, it tends to wear me out; whenever I road trip, I can't drive for long periods of time, except that time I ran over a dead deer in the middle of the night, then I was up the rest of the night. So my energy level was a little on the low side.
I made it, parked, forked over the thirty bucks for my ticket, and headed inside. I made it in time to catch the opening act, an electronics artist. When I walked in from outside, I thought I heard a loud hum, but didn't hear any music, but as I got closer to the stage, it turned out that the hum was the music. I found a spot unfortunately close to the subs, and tuned into what I assumed was probably his second song of at least five or six. I spent the rest of my first half hour zoned out inside the massive wall of sound the artist was producing, a low A flat rumble in the bass that came and slightly subsided in slow waves, with some tones in the middle that I couldn't quite make out, and some noise sustained through a tremolo effect, which the artist would carefully slow down or speed up.
At a certain point, I realized that this wasn't his second song, and as he kept going, I almost started to feel cheated; was he really just going to sustain a huge wall of the same sounds, with some background noise sped up and slowed down for a half an hour? I can't say that I was offended, because first of all, it doesn't matter, I'm just a listener, and second of all, I don't really know what I was expecting. I had no idea what to expect.
About half an hour in, though, you could tell he was building to a sort of climax. The tremolo processed noise was constantly picking up speed, adding volume, and getting more and more intense. I thought for sure I could tell when the peak would come, but sure enough, I guessed incorrectly over and over again, for at least five minutes. Even though I was sort of in the wrong mindset, waiting for what was next after this song instead of listening to what the artist was currently conveying, I was on the edge of my figurative seat, since I was standing. I couldn't wait for the peak.
And then it happened. It simply couldn't grow any larger, and just blew up. The sound seemed to be overwhelmed by itself, and slowly, I heard elements vanish that I hadn't even noticed when they were all together. At the end, nothing was left but silence, and in what seemed like moments (even though it was really minutes), I had gone from eagerly awaiting what was next to feeling very empty, longing for the wall of sound that used to be there, missing that large presence that was so overwhelming, yet so necessary.
When the artist carried his table off the stage after that single piece, instead of feeling cheated because he had only played one piece in a half an hour, I felt like I had cheated myself because I had taken in for granted. It's amazing how something as seemingly simple as sounds stretched over a long period of time could mean something so profound. In my case, it told the story of an amazing thing that lost its luster over time, simply because I got used to it and made myself too comfortable with it, and after taking it for granted, it left me, and I suddenly realized again how amazing that thing initially was.
M
Thursday, October 4, 2012
10/4 - Zammuto
Alright, yesterday I went to a concert. I had been looking forward to seeing this group of people for a really long time, since I was in high school. I missed out on a concert a year or so ago when they were "The Books," and I was pretty upset I couldn't go; supposedly, it was they best they ever played. But I did make it out last night, and I had a wonderful time.
Last night I went to Dan's SilverLeaf to see Zammuto. Zammuto is a very talented group of musicians, led by Nick Zammuto, who writes most of their material, sings, and plays some guitar. Nick's brother Mikey plays bass, Gene Back plays guitar and keys, and Sean Dixon is a beast behind the drums.
These guys have a very interesting style. There are plenty of bands that play with backing tracks in today's music world, but it's my opinion that most of these artists play with backing tracks to make playing shows easier, or to sound better because a pre-recorded track will sound better than a live track. Not Zammuto. They have backing tracks that add to the interesting and inventive sounds they're producing live, and the backing track certainly doesn't make shows easier; sometimes the track they're listening to is giving very syncopated rhythms, or could be difficult to follow along with, and all of the musicians are playing their intricate, precise parts along to it. It's a spectacle, especially watching Sean Dixon play his ridiculous polyrhythms and changing meters while effortlessly staying in time.
And they have to stay in time, because usually there are synced videos that go along with the backing tracks and live music. They opened their set with "Groan Man, Don't Cry," set to videos taken from dashboard cameras set on car windshields as they drive down roads. Some of the videos added meaning and clarity to the songs, to me anyways, but others were pretty silly. Their song "YAY," which, from the title, infers something happy, is really a song about chronic back pain, and was set to a synchronized slide show of people and silhouettes of people with chronic back pain. Usually the people on the slides were over-exaggerating for the cameras or kind of bad actors, which added to the comedy. When they played "Zebra Butt," slide after slide of zebra skin and the occasional zebra butt quickly flew by.
They played a couple songs that weren't on the album though, and I think I may have liked them the most. The closed out their set with a song featuring Mikey, the bass player, both musically and visually; his difficult bass lines and musicality were brought to the musical foreground, which was a treat, but at the same time, Zammuto family home videos were playing on the projector, and most of them were of Mikey looking ridiculous or doing ridiculous things. I guess from Mikey's perspective, it would a pretty awkward and weird way to be featured, to have to play difficult solo bass lines over embarrassing home videos of yourself, but the audience thought it was both hilarious and musically impressive.
For their encore they played along to a highly edited and spliced video of a man playing "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" on the auto-harp. The video was edited to show the old man playing the most impressive auto-harp solo of all time, playing incredibly fast and difficult passages on an instrument that isn't really meant for that kind of thing. It was an amazing thing to watch, but at the same time, watching a digitally edited old man shred on an auto-harp was pretty funny.
I don't know if they actively strive to be funny, necessarily, but I'm sure they want to entertain their audience and hopefully play music that will inspire them, and they definitely do both of those things. I just find them hilarious sometimes.
They also played a couple of old books tunes, including "Smells Like Content," from their album "Lost and Safe." They inspired me to buy that album, on vinyl, for only ten bucks, which is a steal, even though I found out it was a little warped when I took it home.
So if you have a chance, go see Zammuto when they come to wherever you are, if they're coming anywhere close to you. And if not, feel free to check our their music:
http://soundcloud.com/zammuto
M
Last night I went to Dan's SilverLeaf to see Zammuto. Zammuto is a very talented group of musicians, led by Nick Zammuto, who writes most of their material, sings, and plays some guitar. Nick's brother Mikey plays bass, Gene Back plays guitar and keys, and Sean Dixon is a beast behind the drums.
These guys have a very interesting style. There are plenty of bands that play with backing tracks in today's music world, but it's my opinion that most of these artists play with backing tracks to make playing shows easier, or to sound better because a pre-recorded track will sound better than a live track. Not Zammuto. They have backing tracks that add to the interesting and inventive sounds they're producing live, and the backing track certainly doesn't make shows easier; sometimes the track they're listening to is giving very syncopated rhythms, or could be difficult to follow along with, and all of the musicians are playing their intricate, precise parts along to it. It's a spectacle, especially watching Sean Dixon play his ridiculous polyrhythms and changing meters while effortlessly staying in time.
And they have to stay in time, because usually there are synced videos that go along with the backing tracks and live music. They opened their set with "Groan Man, Don't Cry," set to videos taken from dashboard cameras set on car windshields as they drive down roads. Some of the videos added meaning and clarity to the songs, to me anyways, but others were pretty silly. Their song "YAY," which, from the title, infers something happy, is really a song about chronic back pain, and was set to a synchronized slide show of people and silhouettes of people with chronic back pain. Usually the people on the slides were over-exaggerating for the cameras or kind of bad actors, which added to the comedy. When they played "Zebra Butt," slide after slide of zebra skin and the occasional zebra butt quickly flew by.
They played a couple songs that weren't on the album though, and I think I may have liked them the most. The closed out their set with a song featuring Mikey, the bass player, both musically and visually; his difficult bass lines and musicality were brought to the musical foreground, which was a treat, but at the same time, Zammuto family home videos were playing on the projector, and most of them were of Mikey looking ridiculous or doing ridiculous things. I guess from Mikey's perspective, it would a pretty awkward and weird way to be featured, to have to play difficult solo bass lines over embarrassing home videos of yourself, but the audience thought it was both hilarious and musically impressive.
For their encore they played along to a highly edited and spliced video of a man playing "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" on the auto-harp. The video was edited to show the old man playing the most impressive auto-harp solo of all time, playing incredibly fast and difficult passages on an instrument that isn't really meant for that kind of thing. It was an amazing thing to watch, but at the same time, watching a digitally edited old man shred on an auto-harp was pretty funny.
I don't know if they actively strive to be funny, necessarily, but I'm sure they want to entertain their audience and hopefully play music that will inspire them, and they definitely do both of those things. I just find them hilarious sometimes.
They also played a couple of old books tunes, including "Smells Like Content," from their album "Lost and Safe." They inspired me to buy that album, on vinyl, for only ten bucks, which is a steal, even though I found out it was a little warped when I took it home.
So if you have a chance, go see Zammuto when they come to wherever you are, if they're coming anywhere close to you. And if not, feel free to check our their music:
http://soundcloud.com/zammuto
M
Monday, September 24, 2012
9/24 - What I'm Listening To: An Internet Mixtape
Since I've come back to school, I've come across some wonderful music. I'm just writing this down to keep track of all of the cool stuff I've found, but feel free to listen to it. It's all great.
1. Flying Lotus - Putty Boy Strut.
This is a really interesting combination of acoustic and electronic instruments, live musicians and samples, and all different kinds of music. I haven't looked into much of his older stuff, but his new album really excites me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SuQGfk9Gmgo
2. Dan Deacon - Guilford Avenue Bridge
Dan Deacon is becoming one of my favorite modern-day musician/composers, and his new album "America" is a great work, probably my favorite album of his. This song is the first track on the album, and it's quite the opener.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g8QNkb1ETSM
3. A Love Supreme - John Coltrane
Alright, I'm definitely late to the party on this one. I had heard the album before, but I recently acquired it to keep for my own personal use, and I've been listening to it a lot. Elvin Jones is truly a genius on this album.
4. Too Late to Topologize - Zammuto
Nick Zammuto was formerly a member of one of my favorite music groups, The Books. However, the group recently split up, and Zammuto kept making his own music. It sounds a lot like the books to me, without the samples, because that wasn't his job, but is somehow different and original. I'm looking forward to seeing him in October.
5. Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven - Godspeed You! Black Emperor
This is a full album as well, but you really can't listen to it as "songs" or "tracks." It's a musical voyage that everyone should experience, so if you have a little more than an hour, open up your mind and take all of the sound in.
6. The Goat Rodeo Sessions - Yo Yo Ma, Chris Thile, Edgar Meyer and Stuart Duncan
This is a beautiful collaboration of four musicians that are arguably the best at their respective instruments. They each have their own quirks and things that make them interesting to watch in their own right, so combining them all is quite a trip.
7. Pete Seeger, in general. He's an amazing person; never afraid to speak his mind, and always making thought-provoking, yet lovable music. He's a gift, and so is his music.
8. groundUP - Snarky Puppy
I saw them in Denton last week, two nights in a row. They always put on of the best concerts of the semester, every semester, and this semester they didn't disappoint. They even brought up one of our UNT professors to come jam with them, and he was amazing! All of the musicians in this group are extremely talented, and Michael League's writing and leadership are amazing.
9. Kimchi OM - AMP Trio
This is a trio of my friends, UNT jazz students, who have come together to play really inspirational music. All of them are great improvisers and are very comfortable behind their instruments, and they work together so well. I'm looking forward to seeing them play some time.
10. Hi Custodian - The Dirty Projectors
This is really a film, and not an album, though it is based off of the Dirty Projector's most recent release, "Swing Lo Magellan." The film, produced by the band's lead singer, David Longstreth, is, well, interesting, to say the least. I can't say that I understand it, though maybe I shouldn't, but I still find it entertaining. The music is all taken from the previously mentioned album and pulled and tweaked really well to be used as a film soundtrack.
11. These Days - St. Vincent
Annie Clark, the woman who is or is behind St. Vincent, is now extensively collaborating with David Byrne. Their group has a very unique sound, and I don't think I've warmed up to it yet. But, in search for more Annie Clark-related music, I stumbled upon this Jackson Browne cover, and I think it's beautiful. The original is great on its own, but this version recreates a similar mood in her own brilliant way.
12. Denton Music
There are a lot of great bands developing in the Denton music scene, I'll let you look them up on your own though, since I'm getting sleepy:
M
1. Flying Lotus - Putty Boy Strut.
This is a really interesting combination of acoustic and electronic instruments, live musicians and samples, and all different kinds of music. I haven't looked into much of his older stuff, but his new album really excites me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SuQGfk9Gmgo
2. Dan Deacon - Guilford Avenue Bridge
Dan Deacon is becoming one of my favorite modern-day musician/composers, and his new album "America" is a great work, probably my favorite album of his. This song is the first track on the album, and it's quite the opener.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g8QNkb1ETSM
3. A Love Supreme - John Coltrane
Alright, I'm definitely late to the party on this one. I had heard the album before, but I recently acquired it to keep for my own personal use, and I've been listening to it a lot. Elvin Jones is truly a genius on this album.
4. Too Late to Topologize - Zammuto
Nick Zammuto was formerly a member of one of my favorite music groups, The Books. However, the group recently split up, and Zammuto kept making his own music. It sounds a lot like the books to me, without the samples, because that wasn't his job, but is somehow different and original. I'm looking forward to seeing him in October.
5. Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven - Godspeed You! Black Emperor
This is a full album as well, but you really can't listen to it as "songs" or "tracks." It's a musical voyage that everyone should experience, so if you have a little more than an hour, open up your mind and take all of the sound in.
6. The Goat Rodeo Sessions - Yo Yo Ma, Chris Thile, Edgar Meyer and Stuart Duncan
This is a beautiful collaboration of four musicians that are arguably the best at their respective instruments. They each have their own quirks and things that make them interesting to watch in their own right, so combining them all is quite a trip.
7. Pete Seeger, in general. He's an amazing person; never afraid to speak his mind, and always making thought-provoking, yet lovable music. He's a gift, and so is his music.
8. groundUP - Snarky Puppy
I saw them in Denton last week, two nights in a row. They always put on of the best concerts of the semester, every semester, and this semester they didn't disappoint. They even brought up one of our UNT professors to come jam with them, and he was amazing! All of the musicians in this group are extremely talented, and Michael League's writing and leadership are amazing.
9. Kimchi OM - AMP Trio
This is a trio of my friends, UNT jazz students, who have come together to play really inspirational music. All of them are great improvisers and are very comfortable behind their instruments, and they work together so well. I'm looking forward to seeing them play some time.
10. Hi Custodian - The Dirty Projectors
This is really a film, and not an album, though it is based off of the Dirty Projector's most recent release, "Swing Lo Magellan." The film, produced by the band's lead singer, David Longstreth, is, well, interesting, to say the least. I can't say that I understand it, though maybe I shouldn't, but I still find it entertaining. The music is all taken from the previously mentioned album and pulled and tweaked really well to be used as a film soundtrack.
11. These Days - St. Vincent
Annie Clark, the woman who is or is behind St. Vincent, is now extensively collaborating with David Byrne. Their group has a very unique sound, and I don't think I've warmed up to it yet. But, in search for more Annie Clark-related music, I stumbled upon this Jackson Browne cover, and I think it's beautiful. The original is great on its own, but this version recreates a similar mood in her own brilliant way.
12. Denton Music
There are a lot of great bands developing in the Denton music scene, I'll let you look them up on your own though, since I'm getting sleepy:
- - Pageantry
- - Avec Souci
- - The Demigs
- - Sacco and Vanzetti
M
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
9/11 - Abundance
I am surrounded by excellent musicians here in Denton. I went to a jam session tonight, but I didn't even play; I watched as seven or eight other drummers played music improvised and unrehearsed, and each of them sounded great, with their own techniques and ways about their playing. All of the piano players were really great, the guitarists were gifted, the vocalists had great tone, horn players could improvise over anything, and bassists, though scarce, were very reliable yet creative and imaginative. Almost all of the musicians I saw were really great, and I learned something from every person at that session.
In school and in ensembles, I'm continually surrounded by excellence. It's abundant, it's omnipresent, it's everywhere. All of the musicians I'm friends with are great at what they do, and if they need work on something, they take care of it quickly and professionally. They're the cream of the crop, and they inspire me to become a better version of the musician I am.
Experiences here are quite abundant as well. Sometimes the best way to learn something is to put yourself in a stressful situation. Here in Denton, you can take it easy and you can put the pressure on; you can slowly start to challenge yourself, or you can force yourself to be the best in the most extreme circumstances. Some places just don't have some of the situations I find myself seeing and experiencing here in Denton, and that's because what I'm hoping to do for a living is taken very seriously, more seriously than most other universities or places to learn, so it almost feels like a professional environment. That does wonders for my professional development, my nerves, and my technical and musical chops.
In the past, before the internet, information was not as readily available as it is today. Twenty years ago, to look something up that you didn't know, you had to look in a book; no Google, no Wikipedia, no online journals, none of that. Before libraries were common and widespread, people would travel large distances to find books that contain the information they were looking for, though I guess some people still do this, just for very specific instances. Before books, you had to consult a very wise, knowledgeable person, a scholar, or a professor. Before that, I guess you had to figure it out yourself.
Over the years it has become easier to access to knowledge and information. This can be a good thing and a bad thing: people with motivation, drive and energy can push themselves forward at a higher rate than anyone before them, because they have more information to work with; at the same time, people overcome with laziness, or people who expect everything to be given to them can easily be tricked by the search engines analyzing volumes of endless knowledge into thinking that they don't need to work anymore.
I am always trying to remind myself to be the former instead of the latter. Not only would it be selfish of me to expect things to be given to me, and to show up with ease, it would be a waste of the efforts and work of all of those before me if I didn't do something with it. My goal is to take what others have found and experienced before me, to fuse it all together, and make something beautiful to inspire the next generation of people after me. It would just make me feel nice if, because I existed and had a positive influence on society, the world was a better place after I left than before I arrived.
Information is readily available. Knowledge is widespread. Experience is abundant. Make the most of it.
M
In school and in ensembles, I'm continually surrounded by excellence. It's abundant, it's omnipresent, it's everywhere. All of the musicians I'm friends with are great at what they do, and if they need work on something, they take care of it quickly and professionally. They're the cream of the crop, and they inspire me to become a better version of the musician I am.
Experiences here are quite abundant as well. Sometimes the best way to learn something is to put yourself in a stressful situation. Here in Denton, you can take it easy and you can put the pressure on; you can slowly start to challenge yourself, or you can force yourself to be the best in the most extreme circumstances. Some places just don't have some of the situations I find myself seeing and experiencing here in Denton, and that's because what I'm hoping to do for a living is taken very seriously, more seriously than most other universities or places to learn, so it almost feels like a professional environment. That does wonders for my professional development, my nerves, and my technical and musical chops.
In the past, before the internet, information was not as readily available as it is today. Twenty years ago, to look something up that you didn't know, you had to look in a book; no Google, no Wikipedia, no online journals, none of that. Before libraries were common and widespread, people would travel large distances to find books that contain the information they were looking for, though I guess some people still do this, just for very specific instances. Before books, you had to consult a very wise, knowledgeable person, a scholar, or a professor. Before that, I guess you had to figure it out yourself.
Over the years it has become easier to access to knowledge and information. This can be a good thing and a bad thing: people with motivation, drive and energy can push themselves forward at a higher rate than anyone before them, because they have more information to work with; at the same time, people overcome with laziness, or people who expect everything to be given to them can easily be tricked by the search engines analyzing volumes of endless knowledge into thinking that they don't need to work anymore.
I am always trying to remind myself to be the former instead of the latter. Not only would it be selfish of me to expect things to be given to me, and to show up with ease, it would be a waste of the efforts and work of all of those before me if I didn't do something with it. My goal is to take what others have found and experienced before me, to fuse it all together, and make something beautiful to inspire the next generation of people after me. It would just make me feel nice if, because I existed and had a positive influence on society, the world was a better place after I left than before I arrived.
Information is readily available. Knowledge is widespread. Experience is abundant. Make the most of it.
M
Sunday, September 2, 2012
9/2 - The Santa Clara Vanguard
If you know me in person, or have somehow read about me somewhere, you probably know that I played timpani with the Santa Clara Vanguard Drum and Bugle Corps this summer. I would just like to ramble for a little bit about how it was one of the best things I've ever done.
First of all, I got much better at timpani. Don't let that orchestra audition fool you; even if I didn't win the spot or anything, I still played the excerpts better than I would have before this summer, and I was still nervous and messed up a couple times. I was placed in an environment where my fellow members and I could improve beyond our wildest dreams, and I did. I could have never imagined that I would write parts in places where I didn't have notes because I was bored (the staff didn't always care for that). Before this summer, I would have never seen myself walking bass lines to exercises, or playing scales and chromatic licks faster than my brain could think, or improvising difficult with decent success on an instrument that isn't really made for tonal improvisation. And I won the individual competition for timpani... with a 98... just by playing a medley of Rush tunes I listened to as a kid. I really should be learning that getting really good at something simply means devoting all of your time and energy to it, not just wanting to be good at it.
That's enough bragging for quite some time.
Like I mentioned before, I was surrounded by great people. All of the staff got along, which is a first in my experience, and not only were they all excellent at their instrument-specific teaching jobs, but they encouraged us to get as much as we can out of ourselves, and pushed us to improve when we couldn't do it ourselves. They were fun, and nice, and funny, and great listeners, and I respect all of them a lot. The members were the best group of people I've ever been a part of. I haven't ever felt a drive and a passion for success and quality like what I felt at Santa Clara, but that drive didn't turn them into jerks either; they were usually really nice people, with interesting real lives and ideas and stories, and they were a great group of people to be around. And the volunteers were wonderful; the food was good, they were always really sweet to me, and they cared so much about us that it always put a smile on my face. If it wasn't for all of the amazing people I was around this summer, I wouldn't have enjoyed my time nearly as much as I did.
I also got to travel the country, sleep in a pretty nice bus, play great instruments (thanks, sponsors), and get a nice tan from being outside all the time. All that was pretty nice.
But the real reason people march drum corps because they want to grow. Most people only expect to grow musically, and everyone does, whether they want to or not; you can't fight progress when you're playing your instrument for ten hours every day for three months. Some people only grow musically though, and they're missing out on what I think is the coolest part of marching: the development of self-awareness, independence, and character.
As a timpanist, I didn't really have a section. Sure, I was a big part of the pit, but even the pit splits into sections, and when they would rehearse as sub-sections, I would have to find something to do. I really enjoyed this time, because I could use it for a variety of different things I needed to work on. Sometimes, if I needed to work on a part, or I wanted to play something crazy for an exercise, I could sit by myself and practice; all of my improvement was dependent on my energy output towards practice, and not anyone else's help or lack of contribution. Other times, if it was really hot or I was feeling weird, I could sit down and think about whatever was on my mind. I made a detailed set of goals for this semester and how to achieve them, a lengthy list of life goals and things I want to do before I get old and die, and just thought about who I am and how lucky I am to be in the position I'm in in my life. These little bits of time where I was on my own helped me figure out how to organize my life, and hold myself responsible for my successes and failures, and not rely on anyone but myself.
Those aspects mean the most to me, because I feel like those were my biggest issues before this summer. But as the summer went on, I also started to be more selfless, look out for other people, and help whenever I could. I tried not to complain about anything, and eventually there wasn't anything I could find to complain about. I learned not to take anyone for granted, that almost everyone is pretty cool and nice, and I shouldn't be so shy, so I slowly met more and more people as the summer went on. I was always happy, even if it was raining, or we had a weird show, or the food was bad, because I knew I could count on myself to be happy; even if I was really bummed, I had friends that could cheer me up, and if that didn't work, I would eventually remember that nothing is really a big deal unless you make it one.
This was the best summer I've had so far. If you're in a position where you can march, I definitely recommend that you march with the red and green. If you're not in that position, hopefully I inspired you to make the most of whatever you have, and to grow and become something amazing. And hopefully I can remember all of the things I did and all of the lessons I learned for a long, long time.
M
First of all, I got much better at timpani. Don't let that orchestra audition fool you; even if I didn't win the spot or anything, I still played the excerpts better than I would have before this summer, and I was still nervous and messed up a couple times. I was placed in an environment where my fellow members and I could improve beyond our wildest dreams, and I did. I could have never imagined that I would write parts in places where I didn't have notes because I was bored (the staff didn't always care for that). Before this summer, I would have never seen myself walking bass lines to exercises, or playing scales and chromatic licks faster than my brain could think, or improvising difficult with decent success on an instrument that isn't really made for tonal improvisation. And I won the individual competition for timpani... with a 98... just by playing a medley of Rush tunes I listened to as a kid. I really should be learning that getting really good at something simply means devoting all of your time and energy to it, not just wanting to be good at it.
That's enough bragging for quite some time.
Like I mentioned before, I was surrounded by great people. All of the staff got along, which is a first in my experience, and not only were they all excellent at their instrument-specific teaching jobs, but they encouraged us to get as much as we can out of ourselves, and pushed us to improve when we couldn't do it ourselves. They were fun, and nice, and funny, and great listeners, and I respect all of them a lot. The members were the best group of people I've ever been a part of. I haven't ever felt a drive and a passion for success and quality like what I felt at Santa Clara, but that drive didn't turn them into jerks either; they were usually really nice people, with interesting real lives and ideas and stories, and they were a great group of people to be around. And the volunteers were wonderful; the food was good, they were always really sweet to me, and they cared so much about us that it always put a smile on my face. If it wasn't for all of the amazing people I was around this summer, I wouldn't have enjoyed my time nearly as much as I did.
I also got to travel the country, sleep in a pretty nice bus, play great instruments (thanks, sponsors), and get a nice tan from being outside all the time. All that was pretty nice.
But the real reason people march drum corps because they want to grow. Most people only expect to grow musically, and everyone does, whether they want to or not; you can't fight progress when you're playing your instrument for ten hours every day for three months. Some people only grow musically though, and they're missing out on what I think is the coolest part of marching: the development of self-awareness, independence, and character.
As a timpanist, I didn't really have a section. Sure, I was a big part of the pit, but even the pit splits into sections, and when they would rehearse as sub-sections, I would have to find something to do. I really enjoyed this time, because I could use it for a variety of different things I needed to work on. Sometimes, if I needed to work on a part, or I wanted to play something crazy for an exercise, I could sit by myself and practice; all of my improvement was dependent on my energy output towards practice, and not anyone else's help or lack of contribution. Other times, if it was really hot or I was feeling weird, I could sit down and think about whatever was on my mind. I made a detailed set of goals for this semester and how to achieve them, a lengthy list of life goals and things I want to do before I get old and die, and just thought about who I am and how lucky I am to be in the position I'm in in my life. These little bits of time where I was on my own helped me figure out how to organize my life, and hold myself responsible for my successes and failures, and not rely on anyone but myself.
This was the best summer I've had so far. If you're in a position where you can march, I definitely recommend that you march with the red and green. If you're not in that position, hopefully I inspired you to make the most of whatever you have, and to grow and become something amazing. And hopefully I can remember all of the things I did and all of the lessons I learned for a long, long time.
M
Friday, August 31, 2012
8/31 - School.
So far, school is going well. I only have two real classes, Jazz History and Behavioral Analysis. I'll have to see what the psych class is really about, but I'm enjoying the jazz class so far. Both of them will be a lot of work, but that's fine with me.
My lessons count for twice as much credit now, which is wonderful; in my freshman and sophomore year, I would have to spend much more time on my theory and aural skills classes because they were worth more credit, even though I really came to school to get good at playing my instruments. This semester, and in the next semesters, my lessons are worth more, which makes me feel better about spending more time on them.
I'm studying marimba with Mark Ford this semester. I'm really excited, because he's one of the best people in the world at what he does, and he's one of the faculty that really draws attention to this university and music program. He's a really busy guy, and sometimes he confuses his students a little bit, but so far he seems like he's really into teaching and helping all of his students make the most of their semester. I'm working on Eric Sammut's "Cameleon," and looking for a couple other solos to play, along with the typical curriculum, which isn't really a big deal.
My other lessons are for drumset with Henry Okstel. I was originally taking lessons with Ed Soph this semester, but there are so many jazz students taking drumset this semester that he was fully booked. It was kind of a bummer, but I'll still work just as hard. The curriculum doesn't look very difficult and I'm planning on doing a bunch of transcriptions this semester, to slowly make progress and work towards my goal of making a lab band and being a decent drum set player.
Other than that, I'm playing in a percussion ensemble that's going to PASIC, possibly a concert band at some time in the day, possibly a Jazz Singers group, and playing drums in South Indian ensemble, which is always pretty mind-blowing and fun. My schedule doesn't look very full, but I'm hoping that I can work and teach a little more this semester and start trying to make a living for myself. And in my free time, I'll practice.
While I was gone this summer, I missed out on a lot of new music. One of my favorites I've found from this summer is the new Dirty Projectors album, "Swing Lo Magellan." It's great.
M
My lessons count for twice as much credit now, which is wonderful; in my freshman and sophomore year, I would have to spend much more time on my theory and aural skills classes because they were worth more credit, even though I really came to school to get good at playing my instruments. This semester, and in the next semesters, my lessons are worth more, which makes me feel better about spending more time on them.
I'm studying marimba with Mark Ford this semester. I'm really excited, because he's one of the best people in the world at what he does, and he's one of the faculty that really draws attention to this university and music program. He's a really busy guy, and sometimes he confuses his students a little bit, but so far he seems like he's really into teaching and helping all of his students make the most of their semester. I'm working on Eric Sammut's "Cameleon," and looking for a couple other solos to play, along with the typical curriculum, which isn't really a big deal.
My other lessons are for drumset with Henry Okstel. I was originally taking lessons with Ed Soph this semester, but there are so many jazz students taking drumset this semester that he was fully booked. It was kind of a bummer, but I'll still work just as hard. The curriculum doesn't look very difficult and I'm planning on doing a bunch of transcriptions this semester, to slowly make progress and work towards my goal of making a lab band and being a decent drum set player.
Other than that, I'm playing in a percussion ensemble that's going to PASIC, possibly a concert band at some time in the day, possibly a Jazz Singers group, and playing drums in South Indian ensemble, which is always pretty mind-blowing and fun. My schedule doesn't look very full, but I'm hoping that I can work and teach a little more this semester and start trying to make a living for myself. And in my free time, I'll practice.
While I was gone this summer, I missed out on a lot of new music. One of my favorites I've found from this summer is the new Dirty Projectors album, "Swing Lo Magellan." It's great.
M
Thursday, August 30, 2012
8/29 - Welcome back.
I've been inactive for quite a while. Sometimes parts of my life get stale, and so I don't do them for a little bit. Then it's usually refreshing to pick it back up. That's how I am with composing, and being proactive (ha.) and singing sometimes. Not that I don't enjoy them, it's just that sometimes they're overwhelming or I get distracted.
Now, I feel like I actually have something I could talk about. My life is a new kind of interesting, I guess.
This summer I marched with the Santa Clara Vanguard. It was the best summer I've ever had. Maybe I'll make a post about it. I'm back at UNT for classes, and I'm looking forward to them.
Today was the first day of school. I had one real person class: Jazz History. It sounds like it's going to be really fun; the professor's a nice guy, it's over a subject I really enjoy, and there isn't a whole of busy work, or a textbook. Hopefully, I'll just listen to a bunch of jazz while reading about jazz. Swingin.
I had my last auditions today, out of a pretty busy audition week, to say the least. Today I auditioned for which Concert Band I'll be in (hooray!) and which vocal jazz group I'll be in. I thought they both went significantly better than my other auditions, and I'll hear back about what I made really soon.
The other auditions were kind of a mess though. My first audition was the first round of concert band auditions. I hadn't played my marimba solo for three months, and I was nervous because I knew I didn't know it like I should. Instead of pumping myself up to see if maybe instinct would kick in and I would remember it, I got shaky and thought too much and couldn't remember... any of it. I just stopped after the first long phrase of the piece, because I knew it certainly wasn't going to get any better. Then I played the snare drum piece pretty well and sight-read in the wrong key.
Not even an hour after that was my jazz lab band audition. I kind of knew I wasn't as prepared as possible for it, since I couldn't practice at all this summer, but I had worked for a week or so, and I felt more confident than previous lab band auditions. I was the first auditionee, and I sat down and read the first chart pretty well, with a little logistical error, no problem. The second chart was the kicker, though, a fast samba, maybe not fast for some people, but too fast for me. I couldn't solo in the solo breaks, couldn't catch the hits in time, and was generally a mess. The third chart wasn't so bad, but I was still dealing with how bad the chart before it was.
Yesterday I had my orchestra audition. I woke up at eight, got to school at nine, had a little meeting, and waited. I sat and read through music, sang the excerpts in my head, went on a walk, got lunch, tried to take my mind off of the audition, and did everything I could do, really, before I auditioned. And even then, I still had extra time on my hands. My time finally came around five hours after I arrived, and, except for a minor slip up on the first little piece, I thought I did pretty well, about as well as I was expecting myself to, definitely in contention for... well, something. But the scores didn't reflect that, and I got dead last.
Those first three auditions are all different situations. In the first audition, for concert band, I knew I was going to do poorly, knew I played badly afterwards, and in the end, didn't end up in a good place. For the jazz audition, I was feeling good, but didn't play as well as I hoped, and didn't make a callback. In my orchestra audition, I felt great before, played as good as I could have hoped, and placed pretty badly.
There's something to learn from all of these situations, I think.
First of all, don't come in to an audition knowing that you're unprepared. Ever. That's something I definitely should have known anyways. And then, if you are, either play some head games with yourself and figure out a way to be confident, or, if it's bad enough, don't audition.
In the second situation, there isn't really too much to do but keep working. I'm not too upset with the results; realistically, I don't think I would go see a band with me drumming in it yet. So I'll keep reading and working on my chops and coordination and balance and time etc. etc.
The orchestra audition is the most concerning to me. What's the difference between what I heard and what they heard? Are my ears not good enough? Am I playing some weird rhythm sometimes and not even realizing it? I'm not upset at the panel or anything, because I definitely wasn't the best person at the audition, but I'm just curious to find out what the difference was between myself and the guys that got the job, because I couldn't tell a huge difference from my perspective. And that's kind of upsetting, to feel like you did well, but the people that really matter don't.
Anyways, sometimes life is a bummer. Sometimes you spend so much time focusing on one specific thing that everything else in life falls apart a little bit. But I'll get back on my feet, and find other cool crap to do besides play in orchestra and lab bands.
I'm taking lessons with Mark Ford and Henry Okstel this semester. I'm really excited to take lessons with Professor Ford, partially because he knows what he's doing, and partially because maybe the fact that he knows what he's doing will motivate me to be on my game. I'm really excited to be taking drumset again because I can practice in solitude again, and playing set makes me happy.
There's some other cool stuff going on but I can't put it all in one post! Besides, I have to go to bed, I have things to do in the morning.
M
Now, I feel like I actually have something I could talk about. My life is a new kind of interesting, I guess.
This summer I marched with the Santa Clara Vanguard. It was the best summer I've ever had. Maybe I'll make a post about it. I'm back at UNT for classes, and I'm looking forward to them.
Today was the first day of school. I had one real person class: Jazz History. It sounds like it's going to be really fun; the professor's a nice guy, it's over a subject I really enjoy, and there isn't a whole of busy work, or a textbook. Hopefully, I'll just listen to a bunch of jazz while reading about jazz. Swingin.
I had my last auditions today, out of a pretty busy audition week, to say the least. Today I auditioned for which Concert Band I'll be in (hooray!) and which vocal jazz group I'll be in. I thought they both went significantly better than my other auditions, and I'll hear back about what I made really soon.
The other auditions were kind of a mess though. My first audition was the first round of concert band auditions. I hadn't played my marimba solo for three months, and I was nervous because I knew I didn't know it like I should. Instead of pumping myself up to see if maybe instinct would kick in and I would remember it, I got shaky and thought too much and couldn't remember... any of it. I just stopped after the first long phrase of the piece, because I knew it certainly wasn't going to get any better. Then I played the snare drum piece pretty well and sight-read in the wrong key.
Not even an hour after that was my jazz lab band audition. I kind of knew I wasn't as prepared as possible for it, since I couldn't practice at all this summer, but I had worked for a week or so, and I felt more confident than previous lab band auditions. I was the first auditionee, and I sat down and read the first chart pretty well, with a little logistical error, no problem. The second chart was the kicker, though, a fast samba, maybe not fast for some people, but too fast for me. I couldn't solo in the solo breaks, couldn't catch the hits in time, and was generally a mess. The third chart wasn't so bad, but I was still dealing with how bad the chart before it was.
Yesterday I had my orchestra audition. I woke up at eight, got to school at nine, had a little meeting, and waited. I sat and read through music, sang the excerpts in my head, went on a walk, got lunch, tried to take my mind off of the audition, and did everything I could do, really, before I auditioned. And even then, I still had extra time on my hands. My time finally came around five hours after I arrived, and, except for a minor slip up on the first little piece, I thought I did pretty well, about as well as I was expecting myself to, definitely in contention for... well, something. But the scores didn't reflect that, and I got dead last.
Those first three auditions are all different situations. In the first audition, for concert band, I knew I was going to do poorly, knew I played badly afterwards, and in the end, didn't end up in a good place. For the jazz audition, I was feeling good, but didn't play as well as I hoped, and didn't make a callback. In my orchestra audition, I felt great before, played as good as I could have hoped, and placed pretty badly.
There's something to learn from all of these situations, I think.
First of all, don't come in to an audition knowing that you're unprepared. Ever. That's something I definitely should have known anyways. And then, if you are, either play some head games with yourself and figure out a way to be confident, or, if it's bad enough, don't audition.
In the second situation, there isn't really too much to do but keep working. I'm not too upset with the results; realistically, I don't think I would go see a band with me drumming in it yet. So I'll keep reading and working on my chops and coordination and balance and time etc. etc.
The orchestra audition is the most concerning to me. What's the difference between what I heard and what they heard? Are my ears not good enough? Am I playing some weird rhythm sometimes and not even realizing it? I'm not upset at the panel or anything, because I definitely wasn't the best person at the audition, but I'm just curious to find out what the difference was between myself and the guys that got the job, because I couldn't tell a huge difference from my perspective. And that's kind of upsetting, to feel like you did well, but the people that really matter don't.
Anyways, sometimes life is a bummer. Sometimes you spend so much time focusing on one specific thing that everything else in life falls apart a little bit. But I'll get back on my feet, and find other cool crap to do besides play in orchestra and lab bands.
I'm taking lessons with Mark Ford and Henry Okstel this semester. I'm really excited to take lessons with Professor Ford, partially because he knows what he's doing, and partially because maybe the fact that he knows what he's doing will motivate me to be on my game. I'm really excited to be taking drumset again because I can practice in solitude again, and playing set makes me happy.
There's some other cool stuff going on but I can't put it all in one post! Besides, I have to go to bed, I have things to do in the morning.
M
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
3/7 - Update
It's been quite a while since I've updated this.
I have another busy semester this spring, but it's a lot of fun.
I'm taking lessons with Paul Rennick and Ryan Kilgore.
Paul is trying to teach me not to let go of the stick so much; that sometimes rebound isn't necessary and control is a better option. I don't really have too much to do with him this semester, but he's helping me with my technique and he always has cool stuff to say.
Ryan and I are mostly working on solo literature, which I've recently realized that I don't enjoy as much as I think most percussionists do here. I guess playing marimba has always been something that I've enjoyed doing, but has never felt like something I could do professionally, especially as a soloist; I think I would be fine in an ensemble setting, and wouldn't have trouble playing a part, but marimba has gotten a little stale for me as a solo instrument. Nevertheless, we're playing "Rotation IV" (Eric Sammut), which is a wonderful piece, one of my favorites, and Keiko Abe's "Wind Sketch."
Recently some people have asked me if I played something or was playing something because it was popular, or because a lot of people had played it before. That seems like a silly reason to play something, to me. If everyone was playing only Bach chorales, I would not only play Bach chorales. If everyone was playing the Rotations, I would still play the Rotations. My choices of what I like to play as a soloist aren't dependent on what anyone else likes to play. I play it because I like the piece, it sounds good to me, and I could make music with it. Not much more to it than that.
It feels kind of nice to not be working on barrier material very much. In the past, I've really stressed about it, and thought it was so important that I spent most of my time on it. I played through it all the time, but that wasn't necessarily the right approach. Paul has taught me the right way to look at the books I need to pass this semester, and even though I haven't played them in a while, I still feel more confident about them than I used to. I'll still practice them a lot before I have to perform them though, don't worry.
I'm also practicing a lot of drum set, because I think I want to be a Jazz Studies major. As a performance major right now, I like playing in classical ensembles and playing timpani, but I don't like playing so much marimba, and I don't like being in concert band. In my opinion, there is hardly any job market for marimba players, and focusing more on drum set would be much more practical. I would also like to learn how to improvise, and be musical on the spot, and there is almost none of that as a performance major.
If I was a Jazz Studies major, I would be playing in a lab band, and I would have a practice room where I could play drums whenever I wanted to and not bother anyone. I would be taking Improv, and Jazz Arranging, which I think is very cool, and I would be playing with friends and playing a whole lot of shows, which is one of the things in my life that I like the most. I would be focusing on a more practical instrument, and networking with people and performing in a real-life setting.
So I told Ed Soph, UNT drum set professor and awesome drummer/thinker/person in general, that I was interested in being a Jazz Studies major on Friday, and he told me to come play for him on Tuesday, which was 4 days to be prepared. Except I was gone all weekend (we'll get to that later), and busy Monday night (we'll also get to that later), so I didn't really have any time to prepare. So I just came in, dressed up a little, and hoped for the best.
As I sat down, he asked me some questions.
What are my strengths and weeknesses?
Strengths: Funky stuff, keeping time.
Weeknesses: Latin things, hi-hat integration.
How do I know I keep good time?
Practicing with a metronome, practicing with recordings.
There was another question, but I forgot. I was nervous, okay?
He said that my strengths and weaknesses were too focused on drumming, and not enough about general musicianship. He said that my first goal should be to make music, and then to play drums; music is the art, drums are the tool. I should be focusing on things like dynamics, phrasing, tone, and balance.
Then we played Joy Spring, but just the melody, on just the snare drum. I was a little awkward at first. He then asked if I was thinking of anyone playing it in my head, and told me to think of the way Clifford played it. I was a little less awkward, and I got even better when I started singing Clifford's interpretation while I was playing it. And then we played time, and he told me my ride hand was too loud, which kind of makes sense, since I'm right-handed.
I have a lot to work on, but he offered to teach me lessons in the fall, and if all went well, then I could be a Jazz Studies major next spring. That seems like a long time from now at first, and it still does to me. I don't mind if I'm in school for a while though. As long as I'm not breaking the bank and I'm not bored, I'll be alright here. I like it here. People are good here, there is a lot of music.
I'm playing in Concert Band, South Indian Ensemble, the 12:00 Percussion Players, singing in Singers III, and sight-reading three days a week in Paul's Arranging class. I'm also arranging in that class, performing with Arthur Barrow and Tommy Mars in a band in the class on Frank Zappa I'm in, and playing in an ensemble led by performance artist Nick Cave. I'm pretty busy.
Outside of school, I'm playing timpani for the Santa Clara Vanguard. Our show is "Music for the Starry Night," and we're playing "Leonardo Dreams of His Flying Machine," "Hymn to a Blue Hour," "Mars," and "Jupiter." I love the music, the horns already sound great, and Paul always writes great drum parts. I go to California every once in a while to rehearse with them, and I'll be busy with them all summer starting the 19th or 20th of May, all the way up to the second week of August.
I'm also in a band called Señor Fín, and we're pretty cool. We're playing more shows than usual recently, which makes me pretty happy, and we're working on recording an album or an EP or what not. We're playing a free show this Sunday, maybe a show on the 14th, and probably a few more shows soon, I'm not really the one who keeps track of these things. But we play cool music and I really like playing with those dudes.
There's a music festival called 35 Denton rolling in to town this weekend. I love lots of music, and I'm kinda bummed that I can't go to anything this summer, so I'm going to make the most of this event.
I also saw Radiohead for my birthday, and they were pretty great.
I'm also teaching a little bit, and managing a website, and some other smaller things. They don't really matter very much.
So yep, that's a summary of two months into about a half an hour of distracted writing. Makes me want to do more with my life so I have to spend more time writing about it when I chose to write about it.
M
I have another busy semester this spring, but it's a lot of fun.
I'm taking lessons with Paul Rennick and Ryan Kilgore.
Paul is trying to teach me not to let go of the stick so much; that sometimes rebound isn't necessary and control is a better option. I don't really have too much to do with him this semester, but he's helping me with my technique and he always has cool stuff to say.
Ryan and I are mostly working on solo literature, which I've recently realized that I don't enjoy as much as I think most percussionists do here. I guess playing marimba has always been something that I've enjoyed doing, but has never felt like something I could do professionally, especially as a soloist; I think I would be fine in an ensemble setting, and wouldn't have trouble playing a part, but marimba has gotten a little stale for me as a solo instrument. Nevertheless, we're playing "Rotation IV" (Eric Sammut), which is a wonderful piece, one of my favorites, and Keiko Abe's "Wind Sketch."
Recently some people have asked me if I played something or was playing something because it was popular, or because a lot of people had played it before. That seems like a silly reason to play something, to me. If everyone was playing only Bach chorales, I would not only play Bach chorales. If everyone was playing the Rotations, I would still play the Rotations. My choices of what I like to play as a soloist aren't dependent on what anyone else likes to play. I play it because I like the piece, it sounds good to me, and I could make music with it. Not much more to it than that.
It feels kind of nice to not be working on barrier material very much. In the past, I've really stressed about it, and thought it was so important that I spent most of my time on it. I played through it all the time, but that wasn't necessarily the right approach. Paul has taught me the right way to look at the books I need to pass this semester, and even though I haven't played them in a while, I still feel more confident about them than I used to. I'll still practice them a lot before I have to perform them though, don't worry.
I'm also practicing a lot of drum set, because I think I want to be a Jazz Studies major. As a performance major right now, I like playing in classical ensembles and playing timpani, but I don't like playing so much marimba, and I don't like being in concert band. In my opinion, there is hardly any job market for marimba players, and focusing more on drum set would be much more practical. I would also like to learn how to improvise, and be musical on the spot, and there is almost none of that as a performance major.
If I was a Jazz Studies major, I would be playing in a lab band, and I would have a practice room where I could play drums whenever I wanted to and not bother anyone. I would be taking Improv, and Jazz Arranging, which I think is very cool, and I would be playing with friends and playing a whole lot of shows, which is one of the things in my life that I like the most. I would be focusing on a more practical instrument, and networking with people and performing in a real-life setting.
So I told Ed Soph, UNT drum set professor and awesome drummer/thinker/person in general, that I was interested in being a Jazz Studies major on Friday, and he told me to come play for him on Tuesday, which was 4 days to be prepared. Except I was gone all weekend (we'll get to that later), and busy Monday night (we'll also get to that later), so I didn't really have any time to prepare. So I just came in, dressed up a little, and hoped for the best.
As I sat down, he asked me some questions.
What are my strengths and weeknesses?
Strengths: Funky stuff, keeping time.
Weeknesses: Latin things, hi-hat integration.
How do I know I keep good time?
Practicing with a metronome, practicing with recordings.
There was another question, but I forgot. I was nervous, okay?
He said that my strengths and weaknesses were too focused on drumming, and not enough about general musicianship. He said that my first goal should be to make music, and then to play drums; music is the art, drums are the tool. I should be focusing on things like dynamics, phrasing, tone, and balance.
Then we played Joy Spring, but just the melody, on just the snare drum. I was a little awkward at first. He then asked if I was thinking of anyone playing it in my head, and told me to think of the way Clifford played it. I was a little less awkward, and I got even better when I started singing Clifford's interpretation while I was playing it. And then we played time, and he told me my ride hand was too loud, which kind of makes sense, since I'm right-handed.
I have a lot to work on, but he offered to teach me lessons in the fall, and if all went well, then I could be a Jazz Studies major next spring. That seems like a long time from now at first, and it still does to me. I don't mind if I'm in school for a while though. As long as I'm not breaking the bank and I'm not bored, I'll be alright here. I like it here. People are good here, there is a lot of music.
I'm playing in Concert Band, South Indian Ensemble, the 12:00 Percussion Players, singing in Singers III, and sight-reading three days a week in Paul's Arranging class. I'm also arranging in that class, performing with Arthur Barrow and Tommy Mars in a band in the class on Frank Zappa I'm in, and playing in an ensemble led by performance artist Nick Cave. I'm pretty busy.
Outside of school, I'm playing timpani for the Santa Clara Vanguard. Our show is "Music for the Starry Night," and we're playing "Leonardo Dreams of His Flying Machine," "Hymn to a Blue Hour," "Mars," and "Jupiter." I love the music, the horns already sound great, and Paul always writes great drum parts. I go to California every once in a while to rehearse with them, and I'll be busy with them all summer starting the 19th or 20th of May, all the way up to the second week of August.
I'm also in a band called Señor Fín, and we're pretty cool. We're playing more shows than usual recently, which makes me pretty happy, and we're working on recording an album or an EP or what not. We're playing a free show this Sunday, maybe a show on the 14th, and probably a few more shows soon, I'm not really the one who keeps track of these things. But we play cool music and I really like playing with those dudes.
There's a music festival called 35 Denton rolling in to town this weekend. I love lots of music, and I'm kinda bummed that I can't go to anything this summer, so I'm going to make the most of this event.
I also saw Radiohead for my birthday, and they were pretty great.
I'm also teaching a little bit, and managing a website, and some other smaller things. They don't really matter very much.
So yep, that's a summary of two months into about a half an hour of distracted writing. Makes me want to do more with my life so I have to spend more time writing about it when I chose to write about it.
M
Friday, January 6, 2012
1/6 - Transcriptions
Hey. I said I would put up transcriptions that I did last semester or have done over break, so here they are!
This first one is a tune called "Everyplace is a House," by Maps and Atlases.
The drummer, Chris Hainey, plays very actively, and plays a lot of different things at the same time. Sometimes he's sporadic, and sometimes he's inventive, but he sounds great whatever he's doing, and he's probably one of my favorite indie drummers right now.
everyplace
After the Maps and Atlases song, I decided to challenge myself. The band The Number 12 Looks Like You is about as math-metal as you can get (well, could, they're not a thing anymore). This song, "Imagine Nation Express," was always my favorite and confused me the most, so I sat down for a day and wrote it out. It's even weirder than I expected.
I don't know if all of the time signatures are correct, I couldn't hear some parts of it, and the fivelets are probably not even close to correct, but I think I got pretty close. And if I can't even hear it, how can someone play it? Metal drummers blow my mind in a completely different way than other drummers do.
imaginenex
This one is Tony Williams drumming on Miles Davis' "Seven Steps to Heaven." I played it for my drumset jury this semester.
I like the way Tony's time feels, and he opened up my playing with his interesting comping ideas. It was a little fast for me, but I put a lot of effort into it, and I'm glad I chose this one.
Sevensteps
That's all of the drum charts I have so far. I'll put up a few others later.
M
This first one is a tune called "Everyplace is a House," by Maps and Atlases.
The drummer, Chris Hainey, plays very actively, and plays a lot of different things at the same time. Sometimes he's sporadic, and sometimes he's inventive, but he sounds great whatever he's doing, and he's probably one of my favorite indie drummers right now.
everyplace
After the Maps and Atlases song, I decided to challenge myself. The band The Number 12 Looks Like You is about as math-metal as you can get (well, could, they're not a thing anymore). This song, "Imagine Nation Express," was always my favorite and confused me the most, so I sat down for a day and wrote it out. It's even weirder than I expected.
I don't know if all of the time signatures are correct, I couldn't hear some parts of it, and the fivelets are probably not even close to correct, but I think I got pretty close. And if I can't even hear it, how can someone play it? Metal drummers blow my mind in a completely different way than other drummers do.
imaginenex
This one is Tony Williams drumming on Miles Davis' "Seven Steps to Heaven." I played it for my drumset jury this semester.
I like the way Tony's time feels, and he opened up my playing with his interesting comping ideas. It was a little fast for me, but I put a lot of effort into it, and I'm glad I chose this one.
Sevensteps
That's all of the drum charts I have so far. I'll put up a few others later.
M
1/6/2012 - Break
It's still winter break for me, and I've had a pretty productive one so far. Aside from seeing all of my friends back home and going to do fun things I was missing out on in Texas, I've worked on my musical stuff, whether that's practicing, composing, transcribing, or just studying things. I made a schedule at the beginning of break, and I haven't stuck to it very well, but I've still been working on the things I would like to get done before I go back to school.
Here's a little sampler of what I've been up to, I'll put everything in separate posts so they don't take up so much space:
I set up a bandcamp account, because it has a really accessible design and layout, it's free and I can put everything I make in one place. If you're curious, check mine out:
http://masonlynass.bandcamp.com/
I haven't been composing very much at home, but I did finish an arrangement of a traditional Javanese Gamelan tune:
And an arrangement of one of my favorite pieces of classical music (and there's a lot of classical music), 1812 Overture:
I'm pretty proud of that last one. The drum parts were pretty fun to write.
Let's see... I've been working on some transcriptions, mostly just for fun. I played Tony Williams' time on Miles Davis' "Seven Steps to Heaven," I've finished writing out tunes by Maps and Atlases and The Number 12 Looks Like You, and I'm working on Jack DeJohnette's time on a recording of Chet Baker playing "Autumn Leaves." I'll put those up separately.
I'm almost finished with a simple piece called "Opening (from Glassworks)," written by Philip Glass. Hopefully I can record it and put it up here, and I'd like to play it on departmental when I get back to Denton.
Other than that, I've just been playing drums, finding good new music, and making shirts:
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.337718482904839.94366.201132159896806&type=1
That's what I've been up to. Hopefully you're having a good break, or a nice warm winter, anyways.
M
Here's a little sampler of what I've been up to, I'll put everything in separate posts so they don't take up so much space:
I set up a bandcamp account, because it has a really accessible design and layout, it's free and I can put everything I make in one place. If you're curious, check mine out:
http://masonlynass.bandcamp.com/
I haven't been composing very much at home, but I did finish an arrangement of a traditional Javanese Gamelan tune:
And an arrangement of one of my favorite pieces of classical music (and there's a lot of classical music), 1812 Overture:
I'm pretty proud of that last one. The drum parts were pretty fun to write.
Let's see... I've been working on some transcriptions, mostly just for fun. I played Tony Williams' time on Miles Davis' "Seven Steps to Heaven," I've finished writing out tunes by Maps and Atlases and The Number 12 Looks Like You, and I'm working on Jack DeJohnette's time on a recording of Chet Baker playing "Autumn Leaves." I'll put those up separately.
I'm almost finished with a simple piece called "Opening (from Glassworks)," written by Philip Glass. Hopefully I can record it and put it up here, and I'd like to play it on departmental when I get back to Denton.
Other than that, I've just been playing drums, finding good new music, and making shirts:
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.337718482904839.94366.201132159896806&type=1
That's what I've been up to. Hopefully you're having a good break, or a nice warm winter, anyways.
M
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