Friday, November 30, 2007
I know it’s part of parental territory to talk incessantly about our children. Still, when your kid does something really neat you can’t help drawing the world's attention to it just a little. Several days ago, Daniel called to talk about a song he’d just written. Apparently, friends loved it, calling this one the hit song. Naturally, I congratulated him - all the while wondering how anything could rival another song he recorded earlier this year called “Gone by 2040”. Truly, the guy knows how to write a great tune.
So, a few days later Dan is in my dining room, my Taylor 6-string in his hands, and he begins to play: Strong driving chords, hands moving fluidly across the fret board, unleashing a cacophony of minor, major and suspended figures as sophisticated as anything I’ve heard in quite a while. Then he begins to sing. Now, Dan has always had a strong voice, cultivated over years of lessons by Colin Doroschuck of Men Without Hats fame and the Canadian College of Performing Arts. But there’s something different here: an excitement in his voice that I’d never really heard before. And I very quickly begin to understand why: this really is a great song. Of love. Of struggle. With trenchant lyrics and a galvanizing melody. For several minutes I sit at the dining room table absolutely rapt.
Daniel finishes and quietly sets the guitar down. I know he’s always a little anxious about how I’ll receive a new composition. But for once fatherhood has escaped me. I am now mere Gushing Fan, and only manage to get out five words: “That is one great song.” Several times I repeat this, because nothing else will come. Eventually I regain my composure and the young man seated at my dining room table understands that the one person in this world he sometimes has the hardest time getting through to actually gets it. And Daniel is glowing.
My parental prerogative has been fully exercised. You’ll get a chance to hear Daniel's song after it’s recorded and I post it. Meantime, here’s that other tune mentioned above: http://www.myspace.com/danielkosub). Enjoy!
So, a few days later Dan is in my dining room, my Taylor 6-string in his hands, and he begins to play: Strong driving chords, hands moving fluidly across the fret board, unleashing a cacophony of minor, major and suspended figures as sophisticated as anything I’ve heard in quite a while. Then he begins to sing. Now, Dan has always had a strong voice, cultivated over years of lessons by Colin Doroschuck of Men Without Hats fame and the Canadian College of Performing Arts. But there’s something different here: an excitement in his voice that I’d never really heard before. And I very quickly begin to understand why: this really is a great song. Of love. Of struggle. With trenchant lyrics and a galvanizing melody. For several minutes I sit at the dining room table absolutely rapt.
Daniel finishes and quietly sets the guitar down. I know he’s always a little anxious about how I’ll receive a new composition. But for once fatherhood has escaped me. I am now mere Gushing Fan, and only manage to get out five words: “That is one great song.” Several times I repeat this, because nothing else will come. Eventually I regain my composure and the young man seated at my dining room table understands that the one person in this world he sometimes has the hardest time getting through to actually gets it. And Daniel is glowing.
My parental prerogative has been fully exercised. You’ll get a chance to hear Daniel's song after it’s recorded and I post it. Meantime, here’s that other tune mentioned above: http://www.myspace.com/danielkosub). Enjoy!
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Off to the Bodhichitta Buddhist Centre last night with my dear friend Brian - but not before tasting the wares at Mediterranean and Middle Eastern Foods, a little deli on Pandora across from Alex Goolden Hall. Me: lamb samusa (correct spelling) and four dolmades. Brian had chicken samusa and ditto on the dolmades. His review: “This is great! I have to tell Judy about this place.” Mine: absolutely delicious. We continue to talk about the food after we pay our bill and toddle off to the First Metropolitan Church around the corner.
It’s been over a month since I attended the Buddhist Centre’s Foundation Program under the able spiritual guidance of Kelsang Zopa. Warmly welcomed back, with queries about how the CD is coming (the reason for my absence) I’m momentarily surprised as a new Dharma text entitled “Eight Steps to Happiness” is thrust into my hands. It’s a slimmer tome than the previous book “Joyful Path of Good Fortune” we studied this past year. I peer down at the brightly coloured cover, interested, and as usual just a little apprehensive about what I’ll find inside.
Dharma texts range from the excruciatingly complex to the spare and arcane. I quickly discover that this book is not only accessible and less complex than most Buddhist texts, but actually pretty sensible. Its main thrust: that most of the suffering we experience in life is a result of what's going on inside, not outside, us. Hate your job? Angry that you’re not getting sufficient recognition? Frustrated because you can’t get your partner to be who you think he or she should be? The source for all this suffering, Buddha argues, is not our job, partner or the world, but ourselves. If we begin to understand that suffering is largely a product of our own projections, created from within, then we're one step closer to cultivating genuine happiness. The place to start is with ourselves, not others.
“(W)e can either try to change the whole world to make it conform to our wishes,” says Kelsang Gyatso, “or we can change our mind.” Buddhists prefer to change their minds.
Sound simple? Well, I suppose it is. Some truths are just that: elementary, usually soft spoken, and almost always incremental in their effects. By the end of the evening I have vowed to pick up where I left off the month before and return to our weekly Buddhist meditations.
It’s been over a month since I attended the Buddhist Centre’s Foundation Program under the able spiritual guidance of Kelsang Zopa. Warmly welcomed back, with queries about how the CD is coming (the reason for my absence) I’m momentarily surprised as a new Dharma text entitled “Eight Steps to Happiness” is thrust into my hands. It’s a slimmer tome than the previous book “Joyful Path of Good Fortune” we studied this past year. I peer down at the brightly coloured cover, interested, and as usual just a little apprehensive about what I’ll find inside.
Dharma texts range from the excruciatingly complex to the spare and arcane. I quickly discover that this book is not only accessible and less complex than most Buddhist texts, but actually pretty sensible. Its main thrust: that most of the suffering we experience in life is a result of what's going on inside, not outside, us. Hate your job? Angry that you’re not getting sufficient recognition? Frustrated because you can’t get your partner to be who you think he or she should be? The source for all this suffering, Buddha argues, is not our job, partner or the world, but ourselves. If we begin to understand that suffering is largely a product of our own projections, created from within, then we're one step closer to cultivating genuine happiness. The place to start is with ourselves, not others.
“(W)e can either try to change the whole world to make it conform to our wishes,” says Kelsang Gyatso, “or we can change our mind.” Buddhists prefer to change their minds.
Sound simple? Well, I suppose it is. Some truths are just that: elementary, usually soft spoken, and almost always incremental in their effects. By the end of the evening I have vowed to pick up where I left off the month before and return to our weekly Buddhist meditations.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
More Musings
A chilly few days, though the sunshine and blue skies are more than adequate compensation. It means a brisk walk to work each day, part of my recovery from back surgery this summer, and up until a few weeks ago regular jaunts with friends out to Oldfield Road for fruits and veggies and walks in the country. The truth is spring and summer can’t come soon enough for me, though I am chastened by the fact that we are blessed by short, relatively mild winters and that the cold is no excuse for avoiding the West Coast Trail, something to which my friends have promised (threatened?) to introduce me.
Work continues apace on the CD, though I have learned something interesting about the possible future of CDs. Some speculate that with the advent of “aggregators” or song brokers (i.e. people or agencies that distribute recorded songs on-line, potentially to millions of listeners) the CD could go the way of the old long playing album. The good news is that an artist who gains access and manages to sell to even a very small percentage of a large on-line audience can do quite well financially. The bad news: that as in the days of vinyl, large distribution companies are already beginning to dominate this nascent industry. So, although I’m exploring the on-line option myself my ambitions remain comparatively modest. Meantime, I look forward to happily displaying the CD at our gigs this spring.
Here are a few other artists worth checking out, too:
Corb Lund, rocky and irreverent, was recommended to me a few months ago and has a great new release.
http://www.corblund.com/index.cfm
Eliza Gilkyson has carved out a distinctive musical and lyric style that continues to amaze me.
http://www.elizagilkyson.com/
Karan Casey is one of those artists whose talent sneaks up on you. A gorgeous voice in the Celtic tradition.
http://www.karancasey.com/biographynew.htm
Enjoy!
Work continues apace on the CD, though I have learned something interesting about the possible future of CDs. Some speculate that with the advent of “aggregators” or song brokers (i.e. people or agencies that distribute recorded songs on-line, potentially to millions of listeners) the CD could go the way of the old long playing album. The good news is that an artist who gains access and manages to sell to even a very small percentage of a large on-line audience can do quite well financially. The bad news: that as in the days of vinyl, large distribution companies are already beginning to dominate this nascent industry. So, although I’m exploring the on-line option myself my ambitions remain comparatively modest. Meantime, I look forward to happily displaying the CD at our gigs this spring.
Here are a few other artists worth checking out, too:
Corb Lund, rocky and irreverent, was recommended to me a few months ago and has a great new release.
http://www.corblund.com/index.cfm
Eliza Gilkyson has carved out a distinctive musical and lyric style that continues to amaze me.
http://www.elizagilkyson.com/
Karan Casey is one of those artists whose talent sneaks up on you. A gorgeous voice in the Celtic tradition.
http://www.karancasey.com/biographynew.htm
Enjoy!
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Ahhh...the Largesse
The money's not huge, but it's nice to know someone's looking after the few dollars musicians do make from concert appearances, cafe gigs etc. A case in point: The Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada (SOCAN). I recall years ago receiving a cheque for $15 after a song of mine appeared on a radio station in Toronto. I had a music publisher at that time, so he would have received 15 big ones, too. Scroll forward a few decades, long after my publishing contract with that individual had expired, and I discover to my dismay that he's still listed as part owner of my song catalogue. No problem says the SOCAN rep. We have your contract on file. Leave it to us. Result: I am once again full owner of my songs. Yes, I know, we only play a few of those older tunes in 2007, but as I also learned to my immense pleasure playing these tunes and more recent ones live, as we did at the Dancing Bean Cafe, a few weeks ago (see Nov 11 entry), should provide me with a better than expected royalty. Nope, not about about to retire from my day job, but given the costs associated with travel, CD production, etc this comes as a welcome surprise.
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