songwriting – Page 2 – The Conscious Pilgrim

output

There are few things as simultaneously satisfying and consuming as making a record, and for those that don’t know… I am perpetually making a record.

I am constantly writing and composing, flushing out ideas, scrapping ideas, ash-canning entire songs, re-writing, changing keys, piecing concepts together, and woodshedding songs. I honestly can’t tell you how long it takes or how many songs I go through… but if I had to guess, I’d say I spend between 12 and 18 months writing 1-2 songs per week in an effort to get 12-15 that I am really happy with.

The best of the best get brought to my band, where the finishing touches are put on them, they’re tightened up, and performed live a handful of times to unsuspecting audiences, and then when there’s enough of them… typically at least a dozen, but as many as 20… we set up microphones and record them.

The recording process; since we have historically done it ourselves, takes another 3-5 hours per song (1-2 evenings per week) before we send it off to get mixed by someone else… a couple months later, we have a final mix. Within a month of that, we have a master, and roughly 3-4 months after that, we have vinyl records and songs you can stream.

I won’t get into the financial part of if, because it doesn’t matter, and we do as much of the tactile work ourselves as we can stomach which saves on costs, but we’ve also done this many times in our various bands before this.

By the time the record we just started tracking is ready for public consumption, some of these songs will be a couple years old. One of these songs is as old as the band… as it just never got recorded because it was never ready. I’ve rewritten the lyrics 3 times over before finally deciding to keep it instrumental, and spent some time building voicings around the original melody.

All that to say this:

Whatever you’re doing is happening in the time it’s supposed to take. The main criteria is that you’re happy with the finished product… and if you’re not, then it’s not done.

Nobody will ever know; or be able to put a monetary value, on your process.

The best art is made because it’s in you to make it.

attentive

In my artistic life – not that I segregate my life, but certain things require a singular focus and art is one of those things – my band and I are embarking on another recording project.

To date, we’ve released 3 full length albums and essentially 3 EPs, and I’ve essentially lost count of the ‘sessions’ we’ve done because (a) there’s been a lot of them, and (b) my memory is not great most of the time and these things tend to run together, especially when it’s been the same 3 guys, and pretty much historically has happened in the same studio. We’ve also done a bonkers amount of rehearsal recordings.

Sometime next year, we’ll take our artistry and duplicate it a whole bunch of times and turn it into a product to be bought & sold. It’ll become a commodity that people can have an opinion on, and they’ll determine if it holds up to our other albums, and at some point someone will say they liked our “old stuff” better, which will add a linear element to all of this, thereby making us feel old or something.

But for now, we make art. We set up microphones and baffles and headphone mixes and we flush out chord progressions and ramblings and churn them into songs. There will be pounding drums and loud guitar amplifiers and we’ll allow our imaginations to take us into strange places. We’ll weave together poetry and bent strings and interesting rhythms and low frequencies and our dreams will stretch our further than our shadows.

Working a job in between recording sessions is brutal, but we’ll do it because it’s the part of the process we can’t do without just yet. The transition from the top of our creative mindframe to the of an exhausted and underslept worker and back again is so painfully humbling, yet necessary.

Months later, a critic will refer to our efforts as “fairly country” or “chaotic” and if we’re lucky, both of those terms in the same sentence – but that’s in the future, and we don’t live in the future, we live in the now, and now is the time for art. Now is the time when we redefine and reframe the way we’re perceived by the world, designing a work that will give us another shot at notoriety. We fully believe it will propel us further, but how much further is not yet determined.

I have to focus on the art right now, though imagining a future in which this artist work already exists is such a beautiful distraction.
Now is the time for focus.
Now is the time to be attentive.
Now is the time for art – while completely disregarding the future possibilities.

We can’t create art for the future, this is a snapshot of the present.

The future will take care of itself.

The future happens anyway.

a tragic loss

I guess this is how I process things. Forgive me if this is a bit free-formed, because although by the time anyone reads this, the sour news I’m about to write about will be common knowledge in the circles where it’s important. For some, this will be old news.

I’m still processing this I guess, but my boss, mentor, and guy I most want to be like when I grow up, Doug Elash, passed away a couple weeks ago.

Doug was a bomb-ass bass player, the coolest guy you’d ever meet, and an inspiring character at work and on-stage. I talked to him almost every day. Even today there were things I wanted to call him about that I just couldn’t and that fucking sucks.

After spending my whole day on the phone, distracted by having to break this news to people all over the prairies, I finally get to sit down with my own grief and frustration around the situation.

It’s messy and sad. I’m proud I got to work along side him, and I’m proud that he saw potential in me, and put me in the leadership position I’m in now.

Seriously the best dude.
Way too young to be peacin’ out of this plain.

Sigh.

When I’m faced with these things, I write.
I’ve been faced with these things before and I’ll be faced with these things again, and I won’t be able to attend the funeral… so I guess I get to have this space to share.

When I first found out, the message that was placed on me as the news washed over me was that life won’t wait for you to get off your ass and live it. I am by no means saying that Doug lived in any regrettably safe way – this message was for ME, not for him – I don’t even think it was from him, but nonetheless I feel it deep in my chest and as I was driving home from Saskatoon when I got the call with this news, I felt it grow. The message was followed by a song – a song handed to me on a silver platter – 3 verses and a chorus that I couldn’t get out fast enough, so I talk-to-texted them to myself and when I was done I hit send.

What’s strange is that is wasn’t a sad song or a particularly heartfelt song. It was kinda dumb, and fun rock & roll song that tells a fictional story – not unlike Jerry Reed’s ‘Guitar Man’ or something Chuck Berry would have penned 70 years ago. It comes out the way I talk and it’s a harmless, fun, nonsense story that touches lightly on the same ‘life wont wait’ theme, but as silly as it might seem if & when it comes out, it’s kinda important to me… and it’s even got a dumb title that’ll no doubt kind it’s way to a bumper sticker or a t-shirt.

It’ll be forever dedicated to Doug, who touched so many people’s lives for the good, was always super up-beat, who wasn’t afraid to take the long way around a story, and who will be sorely missed.

Thanks is a gross understatement, but regardless, thanks for everything, Doug.
Much love.

a.i. art

“Art echoes the human experience, so for someone to even refer to A.I. generated images or sounds as ‘art’ is a minor pet peeve. Any A.I. generated music is likely to be prompted with profit in mind, rather than quality – so my career as a twangy rock & roll recording artist is no more in jeopardy from A.I. than it is from any blossoming DJ remixing top 40 hits in the same year as my next release – it doesn’t even register as a blip on the screen. “

Beyond everyone’s dystopic fears of being enslaved by robots, there are several much more nuanced conversation about A.I. that can be had in the here & now – because no matter how you feel about it, A.I. is happening. The only portion of this conversation I feel remotely qualified to have is that around art.

People are worried; as they have a right to be, that A.I. is changing the landscape of what can be defined as art and what a piece of art might cost, and I think before we take the hair-on-fire reaction to something we don’t fully understand, we’re going to have to acknowledge a few glaring problems within this industry. As I go through this I’ll be toggling between a few different kinds of art.

The first of which; is that most people can’t afford to purchase original art. The glaring example is that The Mona Lisa; owned by The Louvre Museum in Paris, France, is essentially priceless. It’s hypothetically worth more than a billion dollars, but it’s not for sale regardless – this does not prevent me from purchasing a beach towel or a pair of socks with the image printed on it for a much more manageable price tag. I enjoy the licensing of that image, essentially for free.

I own printed copies of original artwork, still in support of the artist, purchased from the artist for a fraction of what a commissioned piece would cost. Many of us do, so the argument of ‘the original article’ vs ‘a reasonable facsimile’ is best left to people with an actual art budget.

Similarly, if I want to hear Bruce Springsteen sing ‘Hungry Heart’ it’s going to cost me a few hundred bucks, an evening, and I’m going to have to wait for the luxury. If I’m willing to settle for a cover band’s rendition of it, I’ll save more than a few bucks.

That’s all from a consumer’s standpoint. As an songwriter and recording artist, myself, I have to say that the entire world has been “getting the milk for free” for a long time without ever worrying about the price of the cow. I truly believe that we should all be able to subside and thrive off of the fruits of our artistic labor, but in the same breath I have to say that if you are making music or making art specifically for notoriety or financial gain, that you’d be better off picking up a part-time job at 7-11.

I make music because it’s in me to make. I’m not sure I really have a choice in the matter – and yes, what I do has value, and I am compensated for my efforts when I perform – but streaming revenues are not something that an artist like me banks on, but it seems to be the price of trying.

Art echoes the human experience, so for someone to even refer to A.I. generated images or sounds as ‘art’ is a minor pet peeve. Any A.I. generated music is likely to be prompted with profit in mind, rather than quality – so my career as a twangy rock & roll recording artist is no more in jeopardy from A.I. than it is from any blossoming DJ remixing top 40 hits in the same year as my next release – it doesn’t even register as a blip on the screen. As a matter of fact, the original version of the aforementioned top 40 hit didn’t register a blip, either, as it was more than likely pieced together in a board room in Sweden by a handful of men led by Max Martin or one of his disciples who specialize in turning note intervals into dollar signs.

… and if Max Martin loses his job to A.I., I have a feeling he won’t be on the bread line any time soon. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he’s already using it to make his life easier.

My thoughts drift to my subtle awareness of how the diamond industry works. Aside from the hellscape that is the Blood Diamond trade, I learned a while back that in the golden age of diamond mining, the pursuit was ‘the perfect diamond’ meaning of course that it had no; or at least very few, flaws. That is until the advent of the cubic zirconia, which is a synthetic compound with an equally stunning appearance that served to crater the notion of mining the perfect diamond, and the end result was an increased valuation on diamonds that were previously considered less valuable due to their flaws. This is because the presence of flaws made for easier certification of real diamonds. Clearly, the diamond industry has it’s problems.

This is analogous to the music industry in a number of ways. With the advent of most advances in recording technology, there have been people who push against it, arguing that the integrity of the craft is being lost – but there are flocks of music fans who go out of their way to see live music in all it’s imperfections, as well as purchase live albums, and seek out ‘gritty’ and ‘raw’ recordings because they feel more ‘real.’ With the undoubted flawless execution of music works performed by A.I. there’s little doubt in my mind that the number of people looking for the humanity in their music and art will only grow larger.

In the end… writers will probably take the biggest hit from this. Copywriters, translators (if there are any left), editors, some journalists I’m sure… but the greatest artistic works will continue to be the echoes of lived experience, which is something A.I. can never profess to have.

In the end, I guess you can go ahead and make all the A.I. generated “art” you want… just don’t expect me to pay for it.

Frankly, I’d be more interested to hear that A.I. has taken on the menial tasks of humanity – all the toilet scrubbing & burger flipping – for free, so we can be free to create more art than ever.