You know spring is here to stay in Charlottesville when the dogwoods have blossomed and the carnival comes to town. Charlottesville might be growing faster than the speed of sound, but when the carnival stops by and sets up in McIntyre Park, it feels like any other small town. Teenagers flock in groups and little children ride the dragon rollercoaster while their parents buy cotton candy, corn dogs and skittles in a feverish effort to satisfy their kid's sweet tooth.
Driving home from the studio last night, I passed the fairgrounds and thought about what it was like to be one of those young teenagers - sneaking cigarettes, sipping vodka from a Coke can to mask our illegal behavior, making out in the back of cars parked in a friend's driveway, hoping that our enemies - the bully kids - wouldn't find us, that the night could just belong to young love. I felt the warmth of carnival lights and continued on my way home.
I've learned a lot during these sessions and as I drove away from the carnival, I couldn't help but think how it seems like just yesterday that I first met my band mates and began this journey with them. I've learned so much with them, yet there's still so much more to learn.
I feel happy and content as I pull up to my home and, after a whiskey and a little TV, I head down to my basement and start recording a song on my own. I'm inspired by everything in my life right now. It's is hard to contain; at night it takes me a while to fall asleep because of all the ideas swimming through my head.
It was a good day in the studio. Springtime's warmth and colors seem to be seeping in from the outdoors, bringing with them ideas, lyrics, parts, choruses, changes, etc. Things are in full swing. Word fragments scribbled on pieces of paper are spread out from room to room and new instruments have been delivered to the studio by their builders in hopes they'll get used in the process. A few of the instruments have already helped to create some great songs. I have this one guitar that was built by a man named Joe Veillette. It is a twelve-string, baritone, hollow-body electric guitar (that's a mouthful!). He sent out a couple of other guitars and we've all been quite impressed by their unique sounds and the ideas they've brought forth.
I've posted a couple of pics from the studio with this article. At the moment, my upright bass is fat and resting in the vocal booth, waiting to be played. My new Ken Smith (bought right before Randall's Island) sits in the control room exuding confidence, knowing that if it's ever needed on the front lines of musical battle, it WILL deliver.
After weeks of jamming, sampling, looping and recording, we have a huge body of ideas to work with. Even on the slowest of days, at least one new song has squeezed out.
One thing I've learned is that no matter what's happening in the verse of a song, if it doesn't have a good hook - a chorus that sticks in your head - it's doomed to be forgotten. All of the great songwriters knew how to write a hook, a chorus and a sing-along part of the song. Bob Marley was one of the best songwriters because he mastered the art of the hook. Not to get too far off on a tangent, but they call it a hook for a reason. It's designed to hook you in, no matter what kind of fish you might be. That's one reason why rap has been so successful. It's got the hooks. I recently watched "Get Rich or Die Tryin'," and during the movie I realized how good 50 Cent is at coming up with the hook.
Back in the studio, our singer also has a great talent for writing a hook, so the producer has been pushing him to write the hook first. This establishes the general story behind a song and, in most cases, helps create a story in the verses. Right now, we're not spending too much time perfecting the lyrics on each and every song; we're still in the creation stage, so when the melodies or words aren't flowing anymore, we'll move on to a new song. Our producer realizes that a lot of the words and melodies will be discovered during the tour this summer, so for now he just wants to set up a foundation for us to work with. Once again: Get the hook and the song will follow.
Stories are being born - stories of birth, life, death, murder, love, heartbreak, sex, loneliness, growth, confusion, seeking, goodness, evil, the Devil and God, just to name a few. There's infinite possibilities. Songs can tell a horrible story within a beautiful melody; a love song can be great even if it doesn't have the prettiest of sounds. My point is, there's really no limit and hearing the stories emerge through the control room speakers has been getting me excited.
Through all the many years we've spent in the studio, I've always tried to introduce my upright bass into the process, without success. For reasons that aren't important to get into here, my upright had always just sat in the corner, pissed that it wasn't going to make it onto a song. This studio session has broken the curse and my upright has found not one, but two new songs calling out to it. The big instrument has obliged by playing some simple, yet pretty bass lines. It feels good to get on the double bass again and I hope to incorporate it more and more into our songs in the future. I do need a lot of practice with it though, but the best way to practice something is by playing it live, so I'm looking forward to testing out the big bass on stage sometime this summer.
After Monday, we start rehearsals for Jazz Fest. I'm looking forward to seeing New Orleans again and even visiting a community center that the band is involved in. I know the city will feel different than ever before. I just hope that Jazz Fest can help things in some way. Even if it's just the healing strength of music, New Orleans needs all the help it can get.
After Jazz Fest, we go into rehearsal mode. We'll be rehearsing both old and new songs, and getting ready to make the switch from the studio with no audience to the stage with a huge audience. I'm nervous and excited as always to hit the road again. I can't believe it's getting so close.
One more thing before I wrap it up from Haunted Hollow: This June I'll turn 32 years old, meaning I'll have spent half of my life playing with this band. Not bad for a kid drinking vodka from a coke can at a county fair.
And you can see a couple studio pics here:
http://www.izstyle.com/features/index.php?tid=187
