Another marvellous evening in the studio. Lights down with one lit candle, a glass of red beside me on the floor, guitar in hand and a song to sing:
“Lovers come and sometimes lovers go
One’s not persuaded, but the other knows
The heart’s a pilgrim `til it finds a home
`Til it hears another say:
Let a little light burn between us then
As morning parts the blinds and sunlight sends
Its gentle hands to wake us once again
Let a little light burn between us then.”
Took us four or five passes and we were happy. Dennis did a great job on the board, inspired perhaps by his own glass of wine nearby…and dare I say it by the song, too. It’s all beginning to take shape. Mike and Suzanne did the Mexican trumpets on a cheeky little number I wrote last year called Footloose Heart…and did them very well I might add. Nice job done by all.
More to follow.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Friday, January 11, 2008
Crossing the Extremities
Isn't there a song entitled "Mama Told Me There Would Be Days Like This"? If not, there should be (Maybe it was just a line in a song). In any event, we just learned that the computer in one of the two studios we use has crashed, cashiering the whole of tomorrow's recording schedule, which had been tagged for violin and accordion tracks. It seems one of the local music stores provided the engineer with the pre-amp he needed to fix the problem, but neglected to include something called a "fire wire" cable (Yikes, that sounds dangerous). But if I cross my fingers and toes, perhaps he'll deliver it tomorrow so it's all fixed in time for the mandolin recording on Sunday.
Then there's the paperwork. I found out today the mechanical rights to songs by Dougie MacLean and Danny O'Keefe ("Caledonia", "Good Time Charlie's Got the Blues") are good for Canada only and that I must, if I want the international rights, contact folks in London, U.K. and likely the US - undoubtedly, more money being vacuumed up from my cash-strapped budget. The boys must be paid, though, and so I have been dutifully filling out permission request forms and checking with the agency in Toronto that oversees such things to clear up some of the ambiguities in their data base - like why they have two different registration entries for one song. Answer: "We shouldn't. Sorry". Mercy!
The good news? Ken Hamm's slide guitar pieces arrive on Monday from his home in Forget, Saskatchewan - all very exciting (though I do hope his town's name is not a harbinger of things to come).
Then there's the paperwork. I found out today the mechanical rights to songs by Dougie MacLean and Danny O'Keefe ("Caledonia", "Good Time Charlie's Got the Blues") are good for Canada only and that I must, if I want the international rights, contact folks in London, U.K. and likely the US - undoubtedly, more money being vacuumed up from my cash-strapped budget. The boys must be paid, though, and so I have been dutifully filling out permission request forms and checking with the agency in Toronto that oversees such things to clear up some of the ambiguities in their data base - like why they have two different registration entries for one song. Answer: "We shouldn't. Sorry". Mercy!
The good news? Ken Hamm's slide guitar pieces arrive on Monday from his home in Forget, Saskatchewan - all very exciting (though I do hope his town's name is not a harbinger of things to come).
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Man (staff?) the barricades?
Well, what excuse can one offer for tardiness in writing, but the usual complaint about Christmas holidays, plus an arduous CD recording schedule? I promise to post with greater regularity. All in all, not a bad Christmas, though, with trips to Burnaby with dear son Daniel to see his grandmother, a modest birthday celebration (which I quickly blanked from my mind) and Christmas dinner at Brian and Judy's house. This was topped off by an outing to Matisse’s Restaurant where I and a friend were treated to exquisite French cuisine and entertainment courtesy of the establishment's thoroughly engaging owner. Matisse's is much recommended.
As for the CD, we are heading down the stretch, with a super job on piano and synthesizer turned in so far by Karel Roessingh and on drums by Jerry Adolphe. A few main vocals remain to be done, plus violin and accordion by the redoubtable Calvin Cairns, slide guitar by the righteous Ken Hamm and incidental pieces on bagpipe, penny whistle and hand drum. With any luck we'll have it all mixed and mastered and in hand for our first 2008 gig February 29 at the Acoustic Cafe. Details to come.
Some may wonder where I find time to read, but I've managed to make time for an excellent essay by the Canadian poet and critic Carmine Starnino. Starnino comes in for some justified knuckle wrapping for his rough treatment of some of our established poets. That said, the title essay of his book "A Lover's Quarrel" is compelling. In sum, he argues that in their efforts these three or four decades to produce a national poetry by turning their backs on established international lights from the UK and the US, Canadian poets have actually robbed themselves of vital influences - influences that far from "colonizing" Canadian poetry might have helped to invigorate and shape it.
One reviewer replies saying Starnino has set up a false dichotomy, another that the poets he endorses bear suspiciously close relationships to the publication Starnino himself edits, still another that those endorsements fall short of the critical acumen Starnino prescribes for other critics. Interestingly, few take him to task over his attempted evisceration of the reputations of some of our most notable poets. Can it be that he has won tacit consensus for a fresh aesthetic/critical agenda? A tall order, perhaps, though I agree with one reviewer who considers it an important essay, if only because it asks us to challenge some of our assumptions about the Canadian poetry scene.
Other critical titles worth reading:
Alfred Corn's "The Poet's Heartbeat: A Manual of Prosody”
Robert Pinsky's "The Sounds of Poetry"
John Hollander's “Sound and Sense”
Each of these provides a progressively helpful elucidation of metre, culminating in a rather difficult analysis of the principle historical outcome of traditional prosody by Charles O. Hartmann called “Free Verse: An Essay on Prosody.” Difficult, and not everyone’s cup of tea, but I persevere.
As for the CD, we are heading down the stretch, with a super job on piano and synthesizer turned in so far by Karel Roessingh and on drums by Jerry Adolphe. A few main vocals remain to be done, plus violin and accordion by the redoubtable Calvin Cairns, slide guitar by the righteous Ken Hamm and incidental pieces on bagpipe, penny whistle and hand drum. With any luck we'll have it all mixed and mastered and in hand for our first 2008 gig February 29 at the Acoustic Cafe. Details to come.
Some may wonder where I find time to read, but I've managed to make time for an excellent essay by the Canadian poet and critic Carmine Starnino. Starnino comes in for some justified knuckle wrapping for his rough treatment of some of our established poets. That said, the title essay of his book "A Lover's Quarrel" is compelling. In sum, he argues that in their efforts these three or four decades to produce a national poetry by turning their backs on established international lights from the UK and the US, Canadian poets have actually robbed themselves of vital influences - influences that far from "colonizing" Canadian poetry might have helped to invigorate and shape it.
One reviewer replies saying Starnino has set up a false dichotomy, another that the poets he endorses bear suspiciously close relationships to the publication Starnino himself edits, still another that those endorsements fall short of the critical acumen Starnino prescribes for other critics. Interestingly, few take him to task over his attempted evisceration of the reputations of some of our most notable poets. Can it be that he has won tacit consensus for a fresh aesthetic/critical agenda? A tall order, perhaps, though I agree with one reviewer who considers it an important essay, if only because it asks us to challenge some of our assumptions about the Canadian poetry scene.
Other critical titles worth reading:
Alfred Corn's "The Poet's Heartbeat: A Manual of Prosody”
Robert Pinsky's "The Sounds of Poetry"
John Hollander's “Sound and Sense”
Each of these provides a progressively helpful elucidation of metre, culminating in a rather difficult analysis of the principle historical outcome of traditional prosody by Charles O. Hartmann called “Free Verse: An Essay on Prosody.” Difficult, and not everyone’s cup of tea, but I persevere.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Now We Are Three
It looks as if a new tradition is in the offing. Not content to let her dear husband Brian and I keep the omnivorous glories of the Mediterranean and Middle Eastern Deli to ourselves Judy joined us this evening for a round of samusas and chicken tandoori before we three headed off to Buddhism class. Judy was every bit as pleased by the fare as Brian and I had been the week before (see Spongy Corners Nov 28). So we’ve promised to return again. The owner – an Iranian-Canadian who gave up his thriving medical practice years ago for a more modest lifestyle – could not be happier.
The deli has also earned rave reviews from the street people who normally congregate outside Alex Goolden Hall across the street - some of their number waiting patiently for the owner to retreat to a room at the back of the deli before quickly sampling the wares for themselves and steadfastly refusing to disturb the proprietor’s peace by anything so crass as the paying of the bill. Short of scratching his head and staring vacantly down the street long after their departure the owner seems resigned to this arrangement with his transient neighbours.
Our dinner and class capped off a day in stark contrast to yesterday’s hectic schedule. Today: shopping for shoes and a leisurely read of Louis MacNiece and S.E. Venart (a new Canadian poet and very good). Yesterday: eight hours spent in two recording studios laying down guitar tracks and trying to pull my singing voice up out of my socks. Whenever I step into one of these low-lit, high ceiling facilities I’m reminded of those wonderful photos of the Beatles recording at Abbey Road studios back in the 60s and 70s. I remember thinking how glorious it all must be. Today, experiencing recording studios first hand, I’m mostly struck by how much hard work goes into recording music, a process that has its joyful moments, but is also painstaking and too often held hostage to technology.
In my case that process will be aided immeasurably by the addition of Jerry Adolph, a drummer we’re bringing in from Vancouver this weekend to record on six tracks. Jerry has a reputation for getting his parts done in short order, with a recording history that reads like the credit roll at the end of a Cecil B DeMille movie: Chilliwack, Roberta Flack, Melissa Manchester, George Fox, Booker T Jones, Jim Byrnes, Shari Ulrich, Valdi, Spirit of the West, Taj Mahal, the list goes on and on.
Other players who have promised to participate include slide guitar phenom Ken Hamm and pianist Karel Roessingh. Could I be more pleased? Don’t think so.
The deli has also earned rave reviews from the street people who normally congregate outside Alex Goolden Hall across the street - some of their number waiting patiently for the owner to retreat to a room at the back of the deli before quickly sampling the wares for themselves and steadfastly refusing to disturb the proprietor’s peace by anything so crass as the paying of the bill. Short of scratching his head and staring vacantly down the street long after their departure the owner seems resigned to this arrangement with his transient neighbours.
Our dinner and class capped off a day in stark contrast to yesterday’s hectic schedule. Today: shopping for shoes and a leisurely read of Louis MacNiece and S.E. Venart (a new Canadian poet and very good). Yesterday: eight hours spent in two recording studios laying down guitar tracks and trying to pull my singing voice up out of my socks. Whenever I step into one of these low-lit, high ceiling facilities I’m reminded of those wonderful photos of the Beatles recording at Abbey Road studios back in the 60s and 70s. I remember thinking how glorious it all must be. Today, experiencing recording studios first hand, I’m mostly struck by how much hard work goes into recording music, a process that has its joyful moments, but is also painstaking and too often held hostage to technology.
In my case that process will be aided immeasurably by the addition of Jerry Adolph, a drummer we’re bringing in from Vancouver this weekend to record on six tracks. Jerry has a reputation for getting his parts done in short order, with a recording history that reads like the credit roll at the end of a Cecil B DeMille movie: Chilliwack, Roberta Flack, Melissa Manchester, George Fox, Booker T Jones, Jim Byrnes, Shari Ulrich, Valdi, Spirit of the West, Taj Mahal, the list goes on and on.
Other players who have promised to participate include slide guitar phenom Ken Hamm and pianist Karel Roessingh. Could I be more pleased? Don’t think so.
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
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