tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59110514684442358412024-03-12T22:38:27.140-04:00Candide's Garden"Excellently observed," answered Candide; "but let us cultivate our garden."Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-38112735639227356422017-01-09T14:56:00.002-05:002017-02-23T15:13:07.378-05:00Test Adobe Spark VI<iframe src="https://spark.adobe.com/video/c3PbUO9tkkMlZ/embed" width="480" height="270" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-51060098791369671552015-04-03T09:33:00.003-04:002018-08-15T10:10:57.589-04:00scrapbookthis <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Machine-Dreams-Jayne-Anne-Phillips/dp/0375705252" target="_blank">machine dreams</a> that blues and whites are grey<br />
reds become brown filtering desire through lines of code<br />
<br />
she looked at me across the counter, a white plate in her hand<br />
a blue stripe around the circumference of heaven<br />
<br />
the fallen called out from the shade, through the holes<br />
of an old coat, their song a switchblade in the wind<br />
<br />
this reverie is more blurred than usual, but it gave me hope<br />
light extended even into the night where my innocence wandered off<br />
<br />
the next morning the sky was gold but the motel window gave it grit<br />
and the power lines defied the horizon with their potential<br />
<br />
on the bus homeward, the city’s staccato sirens giving way at last<br />
to the highway’s hum, i found her message and anointed it with tears<br />
<br />
<img alt="machinephoto:
The Last Sunset
" height="405px;" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/Ee7x0_b4E6MZMVRzXtU8yXzAVgnmmNdEABh0pjCe9ZZcKYIUQjpLaKvvmlvpP_-UQ_l7KRjWWyY2rFyD96H0-ehpqyHsrozAPpSRI3vj8VZYZWg-c1s4qT9tE8sFT6QDBC-4mTs" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0rad); border: none; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 15px; transform: rotate(0rad); white-space: pre-wrap;" width="303px;" /><br />
<br />
<a href="http://machine.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Machine Dreams</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-78701764834106583922015-04-03T09:31:00.000-04:002015-04-03T09:31:37.228-04:00tacitusthe eye of the world opened and brought with it hell<br />
the whipping winds of the pilgrim’s descent<br />
lovers untouching pits of tar black cities with iron gates<br />
an icy core where escape kept you trapped feasting ravenous<br />
a demon of despair no princes no darkness<br />
just enough gloom to see beyond your fate<br />
a small break in the hurricane to hear your guide whisper<br />
<br />
this is not where we find her go further<br />
traverse the emptiness of these souls they are not here<br />
for penance or the miasma of iniquity they have<br />
fallen through the ground and paid the ferryman<br />
to enter these barrens lands of wind and shadow<br />
because there is no light there is no sound<br />
there is only the echo of life in their cries<br />
their thousand lamentations but a sigh<br />
<br />
with this wisdom, you took your first step beyond<br />
the umbral plains towards the summit of your desire<br />
crossed the verdancy that cast back the empty<br />
that part only before you hands shoved forward<br />
a heart lusting after its own ideal, dripping<br />
with the will to do what the shadows fear<br />
their thin chants faded with each step<br />
and the quiet voice of the forest took up the tune<br />
<br />
<span id="docs-internal-guid-f45cf0b6-7f7a-0060-8b15-86159181490a"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><img height="296px;" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/_3enKL0b8mF6qM5eCxXH8EvXVuPGqdv33PdFGXhKxtuXHxXje_Yp1ApNwgv5DusZdq7P5BF5gC8pvQ6SLNwJjgYiKWUvJAVtNobLeTB2cQcF89W4R78LnLlrex5Brd9C7NNPiAs" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0.00rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0.00rad);" width="364px;" /></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-57733568897790006382015-04-03T09:29:00.003-04:002015-04-03T09:29:42.372-04:00resistance<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">voltage, amperage, ohms, watts, dead men and stardust </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">push their way through the remains of world-smashers</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">those vishnus of the void that once burned the air </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">cigarettes of the heavens whose exhalations unfurled masses of death </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and then life upon the roiling red surface of the world</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">even after armageddon, the sea was red at rest</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">it carried stagnation and its waves could only dream of greater crests </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">reaching, reaching, reaching for the moon</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">aspirations lunar but gravity pulling harder </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">towards hot nickel and iron spinning within a gold and granite cage </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">this blue sea, this new sea, covers its depths with cool serenity </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">fills its widths with giant-songs that travel miles before they fade </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">peoples its darkness with blind monsters lighting their own way </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">without the resistance of men forcing teslas through </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">circuits that cannot bear the mad genius of the universe </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and thus release light</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-ee10d2ab-7f77-d4b9-398d-8a5158a4a3d0"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img height="195px;" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/vafYAOesOO2GdSJkOE-1q02F1akvTy8Z3uy0DzAaa9mns6FO-GLs49shV-W0ifgQKGlZ3y1WvLtURUROsI6WPUiZ5L4k9JyXyv0uIagDGv0DZpJ4O0VdcDmns61N5U_xIzrmys8" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0.00rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0.00rad);" width="346px;" /></span></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-60840147496936690792015-04-03T09:24:00.002-04:002015-04-03T09:24:51.421-04:00Harmonya swath of blasted dunes stretches the horizon<br />
returns only a mirror of half-forgotten dreams<br />
a beat that brings a stirring in the feet<br />
in the lungs of the traveler before the road that was<br />
before the awful emptiness that longs to be filled<br />
the rhythm that may overwhelm its potential<br />
wind dips and croons a missing melody just over the next rise<br />
just beyond the next turn the future whispers<br />
across the barrens where pale bones lay exposed<br />
they augur missed steps beyond counting<br />
centuries of treble clefs and accidentals<br />
leading to one final phrase of joy and sorrow all at once<br />
<br />
<span id="docs-internal-guid-3e7b3ba2-7f73-212a-b4f3-0c4cde4270cc"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><img height="236px;" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/HSrbh1Lqr4wqeOqoo3UHNIBATxELZNMkV9tjn_3rjO2fipYs6wYSUSqbgrBBMCGFe-fx77BmYYwkWkL-aZumHZO4ELyqAC_Oyh1jrw2rlfPzJOydabbo5sQzK5JRnZv8_71PIKQ" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0.00rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0.00rad);" width="426px;" /></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-25706805103242030102013-10-11T14:54:00.000-04:002013-10-11T14:54:58.847-04:00Vestiges We spent 14 years carving Greta. A great woman, a wise woman. She has a nose of stone, bejeweled eyes, cheeks that catch the setting sun in rosy tones; lips pursed in kind silence. She carries a perpetual look of quiet understanding, of firm compassion bought with hard years, broken hearts and blistered fingers. But her soul is still intact, a sapphire so blue the ocean would jealous.<br />
<br />
I spent months just on her hair, getting the thinning wisps just so. The other sculptors thought I was mad.
<br />
<br />
“What are you doing?” they said. “You know how this ends.”<br />
<br />
I took a long breath, stared at my work, and replied firmly: “This has to be right.”<br />
<br />
I was Maestro on this project, so they shook their heads and left me to my folly. They drifted back to giving her shoulders just the right hunch; they tapered the tips of her gnarled fingers, carved the asymmetrical signs of her limp into her hips and lower back. The Authority had decided she was to be in a bike accident as a child: shattered her right femur. She was bed-ridden for a whole summer, a hot summer, a season of thin soup and dust storms. Kansas, 1932. Greta ate a lot of thin soup and watched the family farm slip beneath an ocean of destitution and dirt. The farm died, but the girl lived. She moved to California and picked oranges alongside the Okies and Arkies. She learned to read with week-old newspapers by campfire-light. She kept her hair short and her teeth clean.<br />
<br />
Big moves, a pair of wars and a pair of kids later later, she visited Atlanta for the first time with her husband, Gene. They flew from Buffalo: such an extravagance! But Gene’s work was paying; there was a grand opening for new plant in Macon. Greta had fried chicken and waffles for the first time. The waitress was Black and Greta stared. As she kept staring, the waitress’s wide, Southern smile thinned; she would scurry from the table after she topped off the water glasses; her voice became a thin squeak, when she talked at all.<br />
<br />
Eventually, Gene elbowed his wife. “You’re being rude, honey.” His voice was Sinatra-smooth. The first time they met, the Authority had him crooning behind a CBS microphone at a hop in Hollywood. The next day, bombs fell and the Arizona kissed the bottom of Pearl Harbor. Greta kissed her man and give him a nod and a smile.<br />
<br />
When the waitress returned, Greta pulled gently at the lace cuff of her uniform, using her forefinger and middle finger. She leaned in close: “I’m sorry to stare, dear. But you have the brightest smile. Your teeth are so bright! My daddy used to tell me: ‘Your smile is the best tool you’ve got, girl. And every tool is a weapon if you hold it right.’”
That waitress became my god-mother. Camille Parks wrote Greta long letters of trials and tribulations: sit-ins and marches, speeches and fire hoses. Greta bailed her out of jail twice, and finally convinced her to move up north to the white snow banks of the Finger Lakes. I remember having coffee and cheesecake on Camille’s back porch and watching a warm wind blow the trees, late one July afternoon. <br />
<br />
That was the July before the Authority had Greta lose all of her hair, and one half of her chest and most of her soul to the rapaciousness of her own body. The July before she went into the dark, a knowing smile the last thing to contort her lips rather than the grimaces of pain that reached through the hydrocodone.<br />
<br />
So, yes, the other sculptors took long weeks to discover the wrinkles around Greta’s eyes in the stone we used. Master clothiers draped her in the simple white sweater and pink slacks she favored. And I took many months to bring my grandmother’s hair back: thin, wispy and white, curled absently close, the last vestiges of goodness and hope.<br />
<br />
We spent 14 years carving Greta, and now I visit her in the White Garden every day. She stands with perfect hair and among the million billion souls lost to the dark, the memories we carve in order to conjure to a shade of their brilliance. Sometimes, Camille comes. We have coffee and cheesecake and don’t say a word.
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-17876460855486010932012-08-03T22:12:00.001-04:002012-08-03T22:12:13.263-04:00Succumb to the Lure<br />
The surface of things is deceiving. Seeming can hide beauty, pain or consuming power.<br />
<br />
On the surface of it, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Lure-Dangerous-Women-ebook/dp/B008P1228O/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1344045978&sr=8-1&keywords=the+lure+of+dangerous+women" target="_blank"><i>The Lure of Dangerous Women</i></a> is a trifling thing: seventy-odd simple pages filled with black symbols and white pages that we see every day. On the surface of it, this is the kind of thing that I barrel through in less than an hour. On the surface of it, this is simply another collection of short genre fiction of which there is an embarrassing surfeit. But this book is alive, a breathing, writhing thing that grips you with ever turn of the page, that entices you along like a pied piper. It is not a pleasant ride; it is terrifying and erotic, icy and scalding, messy and precise, all at once.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk_ARQZd_y01oK15eVX8p46p5QzzekOk-hzc_fVY3F7MVLyfQz2N1EdPV0eDMvzZoQW0PTVCA35b2THJXhJIGM0d3hZS0bMYE25FV4exyNFqsFQu9N3RQMbXha5-GO-RgnexyvYJ8jIKHK/s1600/lure+of+dangerous+women.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk_ARQZd_y01oK15eVX8p46p5QzzekOk-hzc_fVY3F7MVLyfQz2N1EdPV0eDMvzZoQW0PTVCA35b2THJXhJIGM0d3hZS0bMYE25FV4exyNFqsFQu9N3RQMbXha5-GO-RgnexyvYJ8jIKHK/s320/lure+of+dangerous+women.jpeg" width="222" /></a></div>
<br />
It took me three days to finish this book. I had to put it down every other story, surfacing to breathe. I had to walk away and let its characters talk to me some more, let the shadowy cling of their adventures become brittle so that I might brush it off and begin my next journey anew, without the weight of the their sexy, horrifying pull.<br />
<br />
All of the women in these stories are dangerous in different ways. These are not <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ellen_Ripley" target="_blank">Ripleys</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wonder_Woman" target="_blank">Amazons</a>; they are not all sirens and femme fatales. Rather, they are fully-realized characters, at once sympathetic and wholly themselves. There is as much pain as power, and many of them are so strong as to push past simple binaries of dominance and submission (sexual, political or otherwise) to offer themselves as sacrifice, or even just a part of themselves, for the good of others. There is no bowing involved, but an entirely self-possessed decision. These are the kinds of heroines we need more of.<br />
<br />
A very thorough review might walk you step by step through each of the seven offerings, but I'd like to focus on a few highlights. "Trill" is a study in disturbing subtly, taking a familiar trope and turning upon itself. A dark version of the pied piper is only the starting point; it dips and weaves its song into dark and daring places that set the tone of this collection. "Seed" and "One Woman Town" are terrific examples of worlds that are at once alien and accessible, offering a fantastic reality with its own lexicon, its own culture and sets of ideas, but one that also immediately draws us in with both wonder and lust tinged with the fear of Germain's razor-sharp observation.<br />
<br />
For it is Germain's style, flexible, expressive and keen, that ties all of these disparate tales together. Make no doubt, these are imaginative stories of terror that are equally very sexy; but they are also stylish bits of prose, a style that engages and engrosses, that pulls you in with a siren's song that can drown you.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.shannagermain.com/" target="_blank">Shanna Germain</a>'s latest collection, published by <a href="http://wayzgoosepress.com/" target="_blank">Wayzgoose Press</a>, is heartily recommended reading for those seeking something extraordinary. Bring your red wine for the libido, your teddy bear for your fear and your shotgun for protection. And even still, you will succumb to <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Lure-Dangerous-Women-ebook/dp/B008P1228O/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1344045978&sr=8-1&keywords=the+lure+of+dangerous+women" target="_blank">The Lure of Dangerous Women</a></i>.<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-70105288582161619812012-07-04T17:07:00.001-04:002012-07-04T17:07:48.639-04:00stone-patient & river-flow<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://infogirl.org/img/Apr05/wavy_stone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://infogirl.org/img/Apr05/wavy_stone.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://infogirl.org/">http://infogirl.org/</a>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
new ink, old lines that sprawl and wind<br />
tributaries of runes calligraphed by half-understood<br />
so doubly-felt pulses of more than blood<br />
<br />
the electricity you draw aches and arcs<br />
in waves to make Tesla proud with that smile<br />
at once hubris and hidden<br />
<br />
i want to reach through the plasma frames<br />
past the simple dyads and kiss you<br />
in the hot shadows of your bed<br />
<br />
it's a fair piece and long time coming<br />
but i am stone-patient wrapped around<br />
a river's serpentine swing<br />
<br />
never stopping, ever crooked<br />
breaching my banks, a mad torrent forward<br />
toward the sea of youUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-28071656341223219462012-06-20T07:57:00.001-04:002012-06-20T07:57:25.390-04:00A Cold Freezin' Night: "it was a pleasure to burn" production diaryThings have just about wrapped up around the studio. The last chord has been strummed, the last MIDI part tinkered with, the last microphone tucked away. People in bland khaki uniforms are sweeping the floors and carrying out the trash in the reserved, honorable silence of their profession. I've crafted a neat little lyrics booklet to include in the <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/album/it-was-a-pleasure-to-burn" target="_blank">album download</a> and given the mixes those final tweaks.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
But I have one more story to tell you, about a weird, weird song and the <a href="http://www.one-thousand-words.net/GofM2012/" target="_blank">Gift of Music</a>.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="100" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=445991478/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=ffffff/transparent=true/" style="display: block; height: 100px; position: relative; width: 400px;" width="400">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/a-cold-freezin-night-2"&lt;/p&gt;</iframe><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>A cold freezin' night<br />
I wish I was a boy<br />
A cold freezin' night<br />
Oh, baby<br />
<br />
Why do you always get away with things?<br />
It's not fair<br />
I need to think, think of something<br />
So you can stay alive<br />
I can kill you with a rifle, with a shotgun, if I care<br />
Probably by cut all your your toes off<br />
Make my way up from there<br />
<br />
A cold freezin' night<br />
I wish I was a boy<br />
A cold freezin' night<br />
Oh, baby<br />
<br />
Boys do tougher than girls<br />
And I wish I was a boy<br />
I'm gonna rip all your hair off<br />
And everybody's gonna think<br />
He is an asshole<br />
He is that asshole<br />
I'm gonna all rip your hair off<br />
An' then you're gonna be<br />
<br />
A cold freezin' night<br />
I wish I was a boy<br />
A cold freezin' night<br />
Oh, baby, sing with me<br />
<br />
A cold freezing night<br />
I believe I can soar<br />
A cold freezing night<br />
I believe</i></span>
<br />
<br />
I usually like to include a someone else's song on an album. There's so much great songwriting out there, and I always enjoy a good cover. And what makes a good cover is the same thing that makes a good movie adaptation: bringing something new to the table, engaging the original work in a way that sheds light on it a different angle. To wit, here's The Books' original composition:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/TqlVCKfX3hk?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
Yup, totally different, but there are some key common touchstones. To explain, I feel I have to rewind all the way to this past December/January to the <a href="http://www.one-thousand-words.net/GofM2012/" target="_blank">Gift of Music</a>, which is a wonderful tradition over at <a href="http://www.songfight.org/" target="_blank">Song Fight!</a>. Each winter holiday season, any one who likes signs up by offering three different songs that they'd like to see covered. The potential cover songs are distributed more or less randomly and each participant picks one song to cover (or more, if they really want). <i>Et voilà: </i>a new album's worth of music with some of the most interesting twists on both your favorite songs and tunes you've never heard of.<br />
<br />
I will admit, my list was... challenging. I finally settled on The Books' deliriously post-modern mash-up because the words tickle my feminist bones. But this is where my ideals about a good cover song come into play. I feel that core of the song, the melody, should be respected as well as the lyrics, but the rest can be - <i>should be</i> - changed.<br />
<br />
So what do you do with a song that has no melody?<br />
<br />
You make one up, of course! The Books are big about sampling and recombination, so I felt it was justified to plunder their "lyrics" and reconstitute a song that was more my style. Thus was born the melodic center of what you hear today, and that was pretty much it for my submission to G.o.M. I like the minimal percussion, the 180 take of giving the whole composition a melody, and I like the vocal harmonies of the chorus.<br />
<br />
But I wasn't really satisfied. The song didn't go anywhere, and it just kind of... well, stopped. To create more energy and variation, I thought about a solo or a bridge. Yet, this past Sunday, sitting in front of my mixing board, I had an epiphany: this is a sampling song! Forgetting about any guitar noodling or a key change, I headed to my favorite audio junkyard, <a href="http://sampleswap.org/" target="_blank">SampleSwap</a> and sifted through the wonderful disjecta there, bringing home the rattling tin cans, PVC pipes and whirly, wispy bits of noise you hear. The new mix is much improved, with a clearer nod to its sampled, post-modern roots. It's also the perfect final track with its disregard of the fourth wall and distinct sonic approach, leaning against the back wall of the party, cooly sipping its Pabst Blue Ribbon, nodding at its brooding half-sister <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/soul-clap-its-hands-and-sing" target="_blank">Soul Clap</a> and thinking "<a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/album/it-was-a-pleasure-to-burn" target="_blank">it was a pleasure to burn</a>."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-88209745070175962922012-06-18T06:00:00.000-04:002012-06-18T07:16:26.786-04:00Broken Doll: "it was a pleasure to burn" production diaryI'm a compassionate, generous person by nature, ironically to the point of selfishness: I collect broken dolls in order to fix them. Some times, though, it turns out that the collector is the one that needs mending.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivra1aS3q5pXhps4prNcy8NV8jQUgRnn4nRnTRMA8C1yonkKaHZuW4LJH5MqW56hQHPorKaBBfhVZiBrFoOeLq1GG_LRXSd_9xqRJ_z7e8CX0E9rEDdyG53x0S9ww92QcF9kx6K9br9_qs/s1600/dolls+eye.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivra1aS3q5pXhps4prNcy8NV8jQUgRnn4nRnTRMA8C1yonkKaHZuW4LJH5MqW56hQHPorKaBBfhVZiBrFoOeLq1GG_LRXSd_9xqRJ_z7e8CX0E9rEDdyG53x0S9ww92QcF9kx6K9br9_qs/s320/dolls+eye.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By Joelk75 : http://www.flickr.com/photos/75001512@N00</td></tr>
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<br />
Crafting a story about a voyage can be a journey unto itself. <a href="http://jardincandide.blogspot.com/2011/11/broken-doll.html" target="_blank">I published the lyrics to this last Fall</a>. The entire song has since undergone some substantial changes.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="100" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=1299982315/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=ffffff/transparent=true/" style="display: block; height: 100px; position: relative; width: 400px;" width="400">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/broken-doll"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>the stage was small; the billing, too<br />
it was still the show to end all shows<br />
you take your coffee black but a little sweet<br />
these things stick with me even still<br />
like morning traffic through a dirty pane<br />
waking you from fevered dreams<br />
like letting go while i kicked and screamed<br />
(like letting go with a kiss)<br />
<br />
i am letting too much slip away<br />
seems there's nothing left to hang on<br />
just a voice on a distant plain<br />
echoes of things pretending<br />
you are my mirror; i am thine<br />
it's still not - no not the same<br />
there's a hole where you used to shine<br />
(spots on the sun feel no shame)<br />
<br />
how do you do it? i </i></span>
<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">wanna</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i> know<br />
this broken doll that you take home<br />
how do you do it? i wanna know<br />
this broken soul you make whole<br />
<br />
in that forest of steel and stone<br />
we fought our dragons and we lost<br />
we played at love to bind our wounds<br />
never noticing the cost<br />
lamb or lion it's all the same<br />
i am your shadow ever hence<br />
this lullaby a searing flame<br />
(i am too long hunting this)<br />
<br />
how do you do it? i wanna know<br />
this broken doll that you take home<br />
how do you do it? i wanna know<br />
this broken soul you make whole</i></span>
<br />
<br />
One of the first things I noticed when I came back to "Broken Doll" is that the melody is rather samey and the verses are long. To keep things interesting and create more dynamics, I decided to double-time the melody in the second half of the verse, making a kind of pre-chorus. I then reduced the choruses from three to two. I even though about making that part a bridge but it's the core of the song, lyrically; so I decided it would work better as a refrain.<br />
<br />
I rearranged the verse order for a better narrative: opening with an identifiable setting that establishes the spatial and thematic relations of the characters. I seem to have a tendency to write the ending or the middle of a story first. Even here, the second verse is a kind of flash-forward, the present-tense narrator's point of view on the past events he's ruminating. There are also some modifications to pronouns (well, several). The original story was the intersection of two love triangles but that wasn't really coming through in the verses and it works better to focus on the single, strong relationship.<br />
<br />
Like many of my unprompted creations, the recording of "Broken Doll" was a rather organic process, taking the better part of a week. My original plan was for something very minimal: a pair of hard-panned guitar parts, a piano and some very light percussion (like an egg shaker), and maybe - <i>maybe</i> - some electric guitar holding down the low end. Alas, I don't have an egg shaker, and the samples I have are too busy for the low-key vibe of this song. Fine, skip the shaker bit. Oh, maybe a cello would be good instead of a bass guitar. Hrm, no. Organ? Yes. (I am far too enamored of this wonderful little VSTi...). And that chorus, it just <i>has</i> to build. Best thing for that: drums! over-driven guitars! bass! The end product doesn't match my original intentions at all, but I'm still very happy with where it goes.<br />
<br />
I always knew that this song would be part of <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/album/it-was-a-pleasure-to-burn" target="_blank"><i>it was a pleasure to burn</i></a> because its lyrics matched the theme so well. Sonically, she's become something of an outlier: the end product of my development over the past few months. A closer sibling would be my last Song Fight! submission: "Wish You Would," with its E Street-style backing parts and 70's rock vibe.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="100" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=3431091860/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=ffffff/transparent=true/" style="display: block; height: 100px; position: relative; width: 400px;" width="400">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/wish-you-would"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;wish you would by noah mclaughlin&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe>
<br />
But outliers are good: proof that I'm stretching my musical muscles, exploring new places and learning new things.<br />
<br />
This weekend was unexpectedly productive: studio work is done, I've pretty much settled on the track-order and the lyrics booklet is 90%! Come back on Wednesday for the final production diary entry, and the story behind my take on a song by <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TqlVCKfX3hk" target="_blank">The Books</a>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-47854377909821454832012-06-16T21:37:00.000-04:002012-06-17T10:37:30.106-04:00Puzzle Pieces: Nightmare Fuel no. 0"We never go in there," said Hatter. "That is not the tea cupboard and holds neither ravens nor writing-desks nor anything that may seem so similar one unto the other. " There was something peculiar - well, more peculiar than the other other odd things: his voice crescendoed and became increasingly staccato while his eyes raised towards the ceiling though his neck did not crane. "No, in fact, that room holds things that are quite opposite!" Louder and faster: "Things that are dry to touchy, black to horizon ribbons, breath to - " Silence. A quick dip of the Adam's Apple. His eyes, once nearly rolled back under their lids, now darted to the shadow beyond the doorway, shadows that writhed in feline ways, a Cheshire grin threatening to emerge. "No, my dear, " Hatter said in a voice so calm it reminded me of my father's baritone at his most sanely stoic, "we never go there."<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY9cg3ubzU_LeZ8Mz0GCU5uF5AjWaVMC6GRL_bVK6uJn5guiMBk3Szdvbdm-Bb4CR7jKxZGDAlNng5iXofBZ1AuBjftuAXDecDgWSfVWWkj5MwGKeYoTfKWVOcD-Nu3-U-nQ-Vk5-86h9r/s1600/500px-MadlHatterByTenniel.svg.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY9cg3ubzU_LeZ8Mz0GCU5uF5AjWaVMC6GRL_bVK6uJn5guiMBk3Szdvbdm-Bb4CR7jKxZGDAlNng5iXofBZ1AuBjftuAXDecDgWSfVWWkj5MwGKeYoTfKWVOcD-Nu3-U-nQ-Vk5-86h9r/s320/500px-MadlHatterByTenniel.svg.png" title="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/4/40/MadlHatterByTenniel.svg/500px-MadlHatterByTenniel.svg.png" width="281" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">by John Tenniel; from Wikimedia Commons</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
"And it never comes here." Hatter gestured toward his tea cup: cobalt blue with golden sigils that matched a pot scattered amongst the multitude. Before me as well was a cup: delicate white with blue designs that could must have been Chinese or ancient Sumerian - or was that cuneiform? Surely it had a matching teapot somewhere... Yes, there: that glimmer of white and blue far down the table, many years away it seems, as light counts time. Its lid rattled gently as Dormouse poked her nose out, then slipped back inside.<br />
<br />
"It won't do to stare," interrupted Hatter, and I started, for I had indeed been staring. Then my eyes were drawn to the blue symbols on my cup. The figures seemed on the cusp of movement, of dancing some ancient rite.<br />
<br />
"No, it won't do," Hatter repeated. "The dancers are puzzle pieces, you see."<br />
<br />
I did not see.<br />
<br />
"They complete the...." another glance toward the shadows, "... the Other." He swallowed and then his face flickered with mad indifference. "It's tea, hot tea, that always does the trick." He gave me a grin that could cut barbed wire and then poured me out with wicked aplomb. "One lump or two?"<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
*****</div>
<br />
<i>Just a little warm up prompted / inspired by <a href="http://callmebliss.com/" target="_blank">Bliss Morgan</a>'s <a href="https://plus.google.com/u/0/109187322359266879884/posts" target="_blank">Nightmare Fuel</a> project.</i><br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-14169571782164787222012-06-12T17:24:00.000-04:002012-06-13T10:13:29.534-04:00All Swear About Murder: "it was a pleasure to burn" production diaryFirst off, a quick announcement: I've made all of the tracks for <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/album/it-was-a-pleasure-to-burn" target="_blank">it was a pleasure to burn</a> available for free download! I hadn't done this before for a few reasons. First, the album's not <i>done</i> yet and, as twentieth-century as it is, I still prefer albums to individual tracks as a method of distribution and consumption. Second, <a href="http://bandcamp.com/" target="_blank">Bandcamp</a> limits my bandwidth to 200 downloads a month.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifyqVEouTV1EYdH8yVgCpwp6O849gAO4IhYrZrgdu2nhago7wwA_nOpwj7T6GrXuCkrwPlXSg0c3qMIixuPs8LBXHpNTv1RtUSY92vRqifGHyH-a3KEphHVzHXVB53ytyTbaJTB1zYBF5k/s1600/burn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifyqVEouTV1EYdH8yVgCpwp6O849gAO4IhYrZrgdu2nhago7wwA_nOpwj7T6GrXuCkrwPlXSg0c3qMIixuPs8LBXHpNTv1RtUSY92vRqifGHyH-a3KEphHVzHXVB53ytyTbaJTB1zYBF5k/s320/burn.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
But I realized that it was silly and egotistical to make the songs streaming-only. It should be up to <i>you</i>, the listener, how you want to encounter this music. Also, it's a "limit" of two <i>hundred </i>downloads. If I somehow magically break that barrier, it will be a happy problem indeed.<br />
<br />
So, enjoy! Grab the tracks as you please, play them where you want on the device you want. Just, please respect the <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/" target="_blank">Creative Commons Attribute-Share-Alike</a> license I'm using. Most importantly, thanks for listening!<br />
<br />
On with the show: new track, new stories!<br />
<br />
Some times, mistakes are fortuituous. Some times, you just happen to know the right people at the right moment. And some times, it's the wrong moment. "All Swear About Murder" fell out of a <a href="http://plus.google.com/" target="_blank">Google+</a> conversation I had last Fall with <a href="http://denisehudson.bandcamp.com/" target="_blank">Denise Hudson</a> (whose work you should totally check out, by the way). Well, the title fell off the back of that truck. The story is pure Appalachian Noir.<br />
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<a href="http://static.quickmeme.com/media/social/qm.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://static.quickmeme.com/media/social/qm.gif" /></a></div>
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="100" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=2380062158/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=ffffff/transparent=true/" style="display: block; height: 100px; position: relative; width: 400px;" width="400">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/all-swear-about-murder-2"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;all swear about murder by noah mclaughlin&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>you were standing in a shadow of blue<br />
a chord in one hand my heart to undo<br />
you were a cipher, a mistress code<br />
a wind-talker in melody clothed<br />
& we sang all night<br />
& whispered the day<br />
you were standing but i heard you croon<br />
a siren sang your secret tune<br />
<br />
it was a tryst it was a whirlwind<br />
but all good things must find their end<br />
your études your ivory keys<br />
my six-string down on its knees<br />
i play the blues<br />
you play for you<br />
it was a tryst it was too facile<br />
i was all swear about blue gun steel<br />
<br />
i was all swear about your demise<br />
shed not a tear for all your lies<br />
they put me in chains and on the stand<br />
i told the tale 'bout your demands<br />
'bout what you took from me<br />
my ransomed heart<br />
i was all swear about your timely end<br />
but never said a word about our bed</i></span>
<br />
<br />
I don't often write <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/susan" target="_blank">murder ballads</a>. But when I do, they don't have a chorus and I use slide guitar.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="100" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=1855484739/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=ffffff/transparent=true/" style="display: block; height: 100px; position: relative; width: 400px;" width="400">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/susan"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;susan by noah mclaughlin&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe>
<br />
I made a demo of this song for <a href="http://fawm.org/" target="_blank">FAWM</a>. As you can hear, this girl has undergone several changes. When I started writing, I knew that I wanted to craft a song with no chorus. The original draft has a bridge, but it was always a problematic thing.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="100" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=3140170152/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=ffffff/transparent=true/" style="display: block; height: 100px; position: relative; width: 400px;" width="400"></iframe><br />
I took the chance to perform "All Swear" for a local Atlanta songwriters' group and I realized during the discussion session that 1) the bridge was not working and 2) it still needed a refrain of some kind. And hey, the purely musical refrain for "Susan" is awesome, so why not do that again?<br />
<br />
Yes, I'm totally borrowing from myself. Or doing a retread of an idea I explored once. Shoot me. If it works, do it twice more. That's the basis of a song, isn't it?<br />
<br />
I also changed the order of the verses after the group discussion because I realized that I was starting the story at the end, and that moving verse two to the first slot would make the story more accessible, since it establishes the setting. That first line is the one real thing in this entire song; I really did meet someone for the first time in a shadow of blue. Also, the last line "about our bed" is the zinger twist, so it's good to hold that back.<br />
<br />
Recording of the fully-produced track was a rather organic thing. Since I wasn't under time constraints to submit this to a contest, I was able to fiddle with sounds and tones. So there are at least three different guitar tones there (I <i>love</i> that warbly guitar tone, which harkens to the black-and-white wild west sections of <i>Kill Bill Volume 2</i> for me). And my favorite organ. And a piano. And acoustic guitars because that's where the whole thing started, right? (Actually, recording the acoustic was a <i>pain in the rear</i>; I'm finger-strumming again and it was so quiet that I had to work mic positions and the gain and blah, blah blah. Eventually, I double tracked most of it just for volume.)<br />
<br />
To make a long story short (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0088930/" target="_blank">too late!</a>) The recording process resulted in a series of happy accidents that gave me the cool intro and that dramatic drop-off at the end of the second break.<br />
<br />
There's probably some unfulfilled potential with the tempo change that leads into the third verse; could be a moment for a bridge or another kind of break. As it is, this track is somewhat weak on its own, but it's going to make a killer lead-in for "<a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/where-you-can-go-2" target="_blank">Where You Can Go</a>."<br />
<br />
Besides, some times you just have step back, brush the gunshot residue off of your sleeve and go "good enough."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-41738323838762629632012-06-09T16:48:00.002-04:002012-06-10T09:52:03.976-04:00must<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<br />
my love is a flower pressed between her sorrow and the pages<br />
she pens to keep unbound until the morrow for sun must rise<br />
stars must sigh charcoal twilight giving way to azure<br />
<br />
my soul is a whisper passed along lips of secret lovers<br />
strangers of the witching hour whose sheets fold origami passion<br />
salty lips uncover discover recover hands that must caress<br />
eyes that must rest upon a warm skin that should not be seen<br />
let alone touched tasted consumed<br />
<br />
my dream is a traitor lost along the road to Judea<br />
long miles i have let slip between us while tracing small steps<br />
the angel's tread of souls more blindly wise than me<br />
for hearts must believe must feel that they pump and push and pull<br />
our tongues entwined pressing between them this unbearable cry<br />
the petals of a blossom tucked away in the oubliette of her AlexandriaUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-20256203339600753452012-06-08T11:02:00.000-04:002012-06-09T21:50:29.278-04:00always someone's monster: "it was a pleasure to burn" production diaryI've actually <a href="http://jardincandide.blogspot.com/2012/01/spintunes-always-someones-monster.html" target="_blank">written about this song before</a>, since she was crafted for <a href="http://spintown.bandcamp.com/album/spintunes-4-round-1" target="_blank">SpinTunes 4.1</a>. The challenge was two-fold, as always: right about a childhood nightmare and make liberal use of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tempo_rubato" target="_blank"><i>rubato</i></a>. For this song, I totally nailed the first challenge and totally tanked the second but still advanced to the next round.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwnX5MzHfDP1sdmvK6IniKOPKiNE1myd1Z0vTl8LngpbX8h8pYXMtdvrWJ2STpW2M3UJHPOURZWnLEuS-lcTFOW8fMcrOCegzwMoDURFVZp2Voxpxtt2PEudRPappBzqORhBtf7257N3en/s1600/skeletons+in+the+closet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwnX5MzHfDP1sdmvK6IniKOPKiNE1myd1Z0vTl8LngpbX8h8pYXMtdvrWJ2STpW2M3UJHPOURZWnLEuS-lcTFOW8fMcrOCegzwMoDURFVZp2Voxpxtt2PEudRPappBzqORhBtf7257N3en/s320/skeletons+in+the+closet.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
'Cuz it's a good song, even if it is in many ways the antithesis to the feel-good pop of <a href="http://jardincandide.blogspot.com/2012/05/it-was-pleasure-to-burn-production_17.html" target="_blank">Panacea</a>.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="100" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=573819819/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=ffffff/transparent=true/" style="display: block; height: 100px; position: relative; width: 400px;" width="400">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/always-someones-monster-2"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;always someone's monster by noah mclaughlin&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe>
<br />
<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">my mother was adamant</i><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>
that woman was made of steel<br />
so one night she stole away<br />
said she couldn't feel<br />
<br />
my father wasn't there<br />
his jaw slack, his eyes a-glaze<br />
he awoke hard one day<br />
left the porch, the house ablaze<br />
<br />
and i tell you all of this<br />
so you can understand<br />
<br />
my mother always said<br />
there are no monsters under your bed<br />
in the closet they abide<br />
keep them there<br />
<br />
i am working my way on through<br />
my family tree of twisted branches<br />
climb on down to the tangled roots<br />
find out where my shadow dances<br />
<br />
i am looking for the answer<br />
to the question you asked me<br />
if you are always someone's monster<br />
are you ever really free<br />
<br />
and i tell you all of this<br />
so you will take my hand<br />
<br />
my mother always said<br />
there are no monsters under your bed<br />
in the closet they abide<br />
keep them there<br />
</i></span>
<br />
Let's be honest, there's no rubato here, at least strictly speaking. I change tempo a lot, but there's little variation within any given phrase. I just don't have the vocal control to pull of something like this:<br />
<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Q4lupqXayYI?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
Nonetheless, there's lots that I love about this tune, and that's why she's coming onto <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/album/it-was-a-pleasure-to-burn" target="_blank">the album</a>. First, I like the imagery I conjure with these words. Its both quotidian and dark, evoking those shadows we like to ignore on the clean, manicured streets of suburbia. Second, the constant tempo shifts let me (force me to?) make several sections, with lots of dynamics. Like <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/to-the-devil-2" target="_blank">To The Devil</a> (and probably several other tracks, since I love dynamics), this song loves to pause and then rush forward. Third, it defies conventional songwriting structure in a productive way: Verse - Verse - Pre-chorus - Chorus - Verse - Verse - Pre-chorus - Chorus - <b><i>Coda</i></b>. (Yeah, that's right. When's the last time you heard a song with a coda?) Like a dream, this composition wanders into unexpected places, pivots and turns at unusual moments, explodes and then drifts away.<br />
<br />
The updated mix has a few new touches I'll mention for the archive. I've added some more oomph to the opening with an organ part (there are two different organs in this song). I redid the vocals in the chorus because originally they dipped too far into my growl-voice. I need bombast for that part but not anger. Nailing and mixing those six bars was probably the hardest part of the entire song-creation process. Finally, I removed the echoes in the second half of each verse, and I really like how sparse it leaves that section.<br />
<br />
The remaining tunes on my list actually require full production (why didn't I do them first, when I had the time?) But I'm well into a murder ballad with no chorus (but lots of wicked slide guitar), and actually I have a cover of song from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Books" target="_blank">The Books</a> that just needs some re-arranging, so maybe that will come along soon as well. Keep an ear out, we're in the home stretch!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-2239330826995874222012-06-07T17:25:00.000-04:002012-06-09T21:54:53.733-04:00To The Devil: "it was a pleasure to burn" production diaryProfessional obligations have eclipsed my musical predilections for the past week, so I have been remiss in posting the piecemeal progress I've made towards completing <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/album/it-was-a-pleasure-to-burn" target="_blank">it was a pleasure to burn</a>. Nonetheless, progress there has been, and below you may find the evidence thereof.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh4_gU5mRvtRpSa12v62rnLZsW6KqRhPWGw09Dak_LpZwVlI518kozPlCp1JFRCSxkS1j36ZXnR2UoXHrltOpHSws7e5DCrR3XwWY4TZkd_Wnl0KUybzB_OoUeCbAGdr2fCWwoxcDrQ8zB/s1600/devil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh4_gU5mRvtRpSa12v62rnLZsW6KqRhPWGw09Dak_LpZwVlI518kozPlCp1JFRCSxkS1j36ZXnR2UoXHrltOpHSws7e5DCrR3XwWY4TZkd_Wnl0KUybzB_OoUeCbAGdr2fCWwoxcDrQ8zB/s320/devil.jpg" width="319" /></a></div>
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"To The Devil" is one of my unprompted compositions, which means she arrived without call from either a <a href="http://www.songfight.org/" target="_blank">Song Fight!</a> or <a href="http://spintunes.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">SpinTunes</a> challenge, nor even during <a href="http://fawm.org/" target="_blank">FAWM</a>.</div>
<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="100" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=1058655808/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=ffffff/transparent=true/" style="display: block; height: 100px; position: relative; width: 400px;" width="400">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/to-the-devil-2"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;to the devil by noah mclaughlin&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>i spoke to the devil but he had nothing to say<br />
cuz i had beat him down, beat him all damn day<br />
Beelzebub came a knockin', came up right to my door<br />
tried to whisper sweet nothin's so i put him on the floor<br />
<br />
i spoke to the devil<br />
i spoke with my fist<br />
i spoke to the devil<br />
now he's on my list<br />
<br />
course there is what Freddy said about the black abyss<br />
can you win that staring game and make Satan miss?<br />
if this is that hubris thing, then just let me be<br />
if i can make my way there blind, his blood will set me free<br />
<br />
i spoke to the devil<br />
Mephistopheles<br />
i spoke to the devil<br />
you want no truck with me<br />
<br />
though it winds like a serpent, i can walk the path<br />
sow the seeds of destruction, pick the grapes of wrath<br />
i spoke to the devil but was only talkin' aloud<br />
i am my own hemlock i weave my own shroud<br />
<br />
i spoke to the devil<br />
bluffed the father of lies<br />
i spoke to the devil, boy<br />
you better let me pass on by<br />
<br />
i spoke to the devil<br />
Mephistopheles<br />
i spoke to the devil and lived<br />
you want no truck with me<br />
<br />
</i></span>
This song actually comes from a pretty dark place, so I have trouble talking about it. Let's start with structure and my trademark references.<br />
<br />
"To the Devil" is a pretty straight-up rock song. I knew this right from the get go, and so it's lathered in dynamics, bombast and a simple chord progression. In its initial iteration, the whole vocal delivery was rather monotone. I was trying to play it cool, underlying an assured delivery with lyrics soaked in doubt and not a little self-loathing. I wanted there to be a tension between the raucous triumph of the music and the dark introspection of the words: fragile aggression.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="100" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=2745745466/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=ffffff/transparent=true/" style="display: block; height: 100px; position: relative; width: 400px;" width="400">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/to-the-devil-demo"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;to the devil (demo) by noah mclaughlin&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe>
<br />
<br />
I'm very happy with the dynamics of this song, the way it ebbs and flows, but for the new take, I knew that it need more of that. So, I redid the percussion track entirely. (Hooray for <a href="http://www.toontrack.com/products.asp?item=7" target="_blank">EzDrummer</a>!) and put more energy into the chorus. The call/response in that section was a last-minute editing decision; I'm on the fence and it may not survive (entirely) the last edit before I consider the album complete.<br />
<br />
References to literature and philosophy abound. Overall, I was thinking of Charlie Daniel's "The Devil Went Down the Georgia" as well as anti-heroes that figure in so much of Johnny's Cash's work.<br />
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<br />
"Freddy" and his "black abyss" is a nod to one Nietzsche's more famous quotes:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you. (<i>Beyond Good and Evil</i>.)</span></blockquote>
The second half of verse two is actually a very oblique reference to <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oedipus_at_Colonus" target="_blank">Oedipus at Colonus</a></i>, the third and final part of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sophocles" target="_blank">Sophocles</a>' <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Three_Theban_plays#The_Theban_plays" target="_blank">Theban Plays</a>, in which the now-blinded king ruminates upon his dire fate. It's a pessimistic work, even for a tragedy. And no mention of "hemlock" could miss evoking the fate of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Socrates" target="_blank">Socrates</a>, who was condemned to death for basically being a skeptic and "corrupting the youth" of Athens with rational thought, of all things.<br />
<br />
The "grapes of wrath," here has nothing to do with the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Grapes_of_Wrath" target="_blank">Steinbeck novel</a>, but rather <i>his</i> source: The Battle Hymn of the Republic." Which is, in turn, a reference to Revelations 14: 19-20. I'm just part of a long chain of borrowing.<br />
<br />
Personally, I'll manage to say that writing this song was kind of cathartic. It's hyperbolic, of course: my life is pretty good, but I had settled into a kind of mid-winter glum and channeled my shadow into a song that might make Kurt Cobain go "Dude, you have issues."<br />
<br />
More music has been made since I've fallen quiet. Come back soon (like, tomorrow) and I'll tell you about more <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/always-someones-monster-2" target="_blank">dark shadows that I've summoned</a>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-5119504393786749822012-05-28T07:44:00.001-04:002012-05-29T18:45:30.378-04:00Soul Clap Its Hands and Sing: "it was a pleasure to burn" production diaryToday's offering features special guest <a href="http://www.shannagermain.com/" target="_blank">Shanna Germain</a>. I discovered Shanna's <a href="http://thisbodyofwork.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">This Body of Work</a> on Google Plus, and instantly fell in amazed lust with her often sexually-charged and always in-charge short work. In mid-January, she posted "<a href="http://thisbodyofwork.wordpress.com/2012/01/15/15/" target="_blank">Soul Clap Its Hands and Sing</a>," and I thought "I can totally use this for <a href="http://fawm.org/" target="_blank">FAWM</a> material!" It never happened during the month of February, but in early March I had a track ready. Problem was, it used my low, growling baritone, which didn't quite fit with the clearly feminine point of view. So, after long weeks of gentle nudging, I got the artist herself to give me a track.<br />
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<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="100" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=4110152732/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=ffffff/transparent=true/" style="display: block; height: 100px; position: relative; width: 400px;" width="400">a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/soul-clap-its-hands-and-sing"Soul Clap its Hands and Sing by noah mclaughlin, Shanna Germain</iframe>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>I.<br />
The trouble is the ship left without me. Also I cut a hole<br />
in the sunset-tinged sail. Not a hole; a heart shape.<br />
I almost forget they’re the same. The scissors sank like<br />
live weights, flashing their teeth at the mackerels.<br />
Summer ends with a settle of silver and sand.<br />
<br />
II.<br />
A woman alone is an alien thing. The dock rejects her heft.<br />
Mouths open to the sky, golden birds pray for rains<br />
and the wormtails of truths. Wishes can break your neck<br />
if you don’t cant your face three degrees to the right.<br />
of the mast. Look at me, quick. There’s nowhere else to go<br />
<br />
III.<br />
but down. Last night the boatman had tomorrow for eyes.<br />
There was no place left to slot my coins. Think of that face<br />
like the ones drawn on rice—a curio to scare the children with.<br />
My muse slunk off with a half-cocked heel and a man<br />
half her age. If I believed in gods, I’d fuck them all.<br />
<br />
IV.<br />
Once I was younger. Every word was a seaweed scrawl of bracken,<br />
every line a breaking wave of wood. Who wants to be a bird<br />
when I can be me? Song was never mine for pyre. My hair is spun<br />
of golden scales. When the ship sinks, let’s say it was never my fault.<br />
Let’s say I really wanted to go all the way.</i></span>
</blockquote>
I feel like I should tell you more about Shanna, but I also feel that I don't really have the right to pin her down like that. Besides, she's done a very good job of it herself:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>First and foremost, she is a leximaven of the highest order, exploring her love of the written word through a multitude of formats and styles. Shanna (pronounced like ‘Shaun’ with a sigh of pleasure at the end) also claims the titles of (in no particular order): girl geek, lust/slut, wanderlust-er, avid walker and biker, tree kisser, knife licker, steak-maker, book-nerd and Schrodinger’s Brat.</i></blockquote>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>With a whole lot of writing years under her belt (or her collar, depending on the day), Shanna’s poems, essays, short stories, novellas, articles and more have found homes in hundreds of magazines, newspapers, books and websites.</i></blockquote>
</blockquote>
<span style="text-align: left;">I have long been a fan of spoken word pieces, that peculiar subgenre/step-chield of audio books and songs. But they can be tricky things; it's not a mere matter of recording a poetry recitation (which this offering led me to discover is no "mere" matter.) A spoken word piece is about ambiance, closer to <a href="http://www.righteousbabe.com/ani/words.asp" target="_blank">Ani Difranco</a>'s ethereal jazz riffs or the wonderful weirdness of </span><a href="http://www.last.fm/music/Coil" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">Coil</a>.<br />
<br />
For this composition, I went to my favorite sample junkyard: <a href="http://www.sampleswap.org/" target="_blank">SampleSwap</a>. Every last bit of percussion that you hear is from there; about three or four different pieces, with varying amounts of reverb and other effects. With the right groove underway, the rest of the composition feel easily into place. There's no chorus or any kind of refrain, but I knew that I wanted to somehow subtly translate the numbering of the stanzas in Shanna's poem. Thus, those pounding guitar breaks. (Over which, inevitably, I couldn't resist re-sampling some vocal parts; so, now there is a refrain.)<br />
<br />
Musically, "Soul Clap" is all about dynamics, moving from that heart-beat thrum to a tinkling acoustic to the pounding distortion of the refrain guitars, and then back again. It's also about theme and variation, as each verse features the chord progression and mini-melody in a slightly different way. That wonderful whine throughout, by the way, is a MIDI-cello with a heap of effects on it.<br />
<br />
I am very grateful for Shanna agreeing to do the vocals. I love to collaborate, especially with women who lend my work a much need variance in tone.<br />
<br />
This week, real life and its real job rear their heads again, so I'm not sure what I'll be able to do in the studio. Have no fear, however, more to come!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-87807156518367840862012-05-25T13:41:00.002-04:002012-05-25T13:41:24.252-04:00Other Ways: "it was a pleasure to burn" production diaryDuring <a href="http://fawm%2Corg/" target="_blank">FAWM</a>, I pull from anywhere and everywhere for inspiration: the message boards, <a href="http://jardincandide.blogspot.com/2012/05/sittin-in-backseat-it-was-pleasure-to.html" target="_blank">other artists</a>, my dreams, <a href="http://jardincandide.blogspot.com/2012/05/entry-fifth-it-was-pleasure-to-burn.html" target="_blank">my library</a>, even the headlines. And this past February marked the sudden and tragic death of a pop music icon.<br />
<br />
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<br />
So, "Other Ways" is a song about <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whitney_Houston" target="_blank">Whitney Houston</a>, or my imagined version of her.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="100" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=2768635966/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=ffffff/transparent=true/" style="display: block; height: 100px; position: relative; width: 400px;" width="400">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/other-ways-2"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;other ways by noah mclaughlin&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>she had other ways<br />
<br />
i once knew a woman<br />
she would not tell me her name<br />
she lived down in Atlanta, an' every night<br />
she burned that town with shame<br />
with the voice of an angel<br />
but a soul as black as pitch<br />
should could sing for her supper<br />
but could not love herself rich<br />
<br />
she had other ways<br />
<br />
oh she had one them mansions<br />
ponce de leon midtown way<br />
an' all that she ever wanted<br />
she had to fight for every day<br />
she was proud of them bruises<br />
she could take the abuse<br />
her nose, her veins, her heart, her tears<br />
all dried up from use<br />
<br />
she had other ways<br />
<br />
up on the TV there<br />
are a million of her ghosts<br />
the pundits all mourn her passing<br />
the divas raise a toast<br />
so we all held a party<br />
to come 'round and crown her heir<br />
long live the queen of sorrow<br />
from her snow-white chair<br />
<br />
she had other ways</i></span>
<br />
<br />
I started this past <a href="http://fawm.org/" target="_blank">FAWM</a> with the idea that I could generate the most amount of songs by only recording demos. After all, it's not "Album Recording Month," it's "Album <i>Writing </i>Month." The thing is, years of <a href="http://www.songfight.org/" target="_blank">Song Fighting</a> have made it so that recording is part of my songwriting process. It's like a ritual: get the bare bones of a tune down with an acoustic guitar, then open up my <a href="http://reaper.fm/" target="_blank">recording software</a> and start laying tracks: drum, bass, guitar, (other instruments as needed) vox, lead, backing vox, pretty much in that order most of the time. So, for "Other Ways," I gave up on the idea of just doing a demo. It felt much more comfortable anyway.<br />
<br />
As always, there are a few touchstones for the sounds I was going for. Though I had never even seen here in the city, I knew that Whitney lived in my new hometown of Atlanta, and I wanted to stay with a southern-rock vibe, like "<a href="http://jardincandide.blogspot.com/2012/05/sittin-in-backseat-it-was-pleasure-to.html" target="_blank">Sittin' in the Back Seat</a>." Instead of <a href="http://www.tompetty.com/" target="_blank">Tom Petty</a>, this time I drew from some <a href="http://www.blackcrowes.com/2010/" target="_blank">Black Crows</a>, especially with the organ tone and sparse but rocking guitars. The organ actually isn't my usual <a href="http://mda.smartelectronix.com/" target="_blank">MDA ePiano</a>, but rather <a href="http://www.dskmusic.com/dsk-b3x/" target="_blank">DSK's B3x</a> with a liberal dash of my favorite <a href="http://dasample.com/products/glaceverb/" target="_blank">reverb</a>.<br />
<br />
There's a lot of very uncool things about Whitney Houston the real person: drug abuse, spousal abuse, alcoholism. But there's also a lot of powerful and uplifting things about her as well. How strong do you have to be as a black woman in today's society to pull yourself up to the zenith of pop-culture stardom? I wanted to focus that mixed myth of a powerful woman with a shadow that she couldn't shake.<br />
<br />
This chorus really stretches my vocals. I can't count the takes it took me to hit those right. (In fact, if you can keep a secret, those four choruses are actually only two takes. When you nail it, you can just copy paste, flip the backing vox any no one's the wiser.) Whoa unto me should I ever attempt this live.<br />
<br />
I'm most proud of the dynamics of this song. It starts very strong, and the chorus is very simple, but not facile. And I feel that I've succeeded in maintaining the listener's interest throughout with varying levels of volume and a mixture of instruments. In fact, at the moment, this is the main contender for the first track of the album.<br />
<br />
Plenty more brewing for next week. I have my final FAWM composition in the works, as well as another special guest coming on board. See you then!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-3692596562921470162012-05-23T08:58:00.001-04:002012-05-23T08:58:07.920-04:00Sittin' in the Backseat: "it was a pleasure to burn" production diaryFor this <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/album/it-was-a-pleasure-to-burn" target="_blank">album</a>, I have a few guests stopping in. The words for "Sittin' in the Backseat" were written by a talented lyricist at <a href="http://fawm.org/" target="_blank">FAWM</a> who goes by <a href="http://fawm.org/fawmers/shay/" target="_blank">Shay</a>. I hooked up with her work last year with "<a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/no-excuse-no-reason" target="_blank">No Excuse, No Reason</a>." That turned out so well that I knew I wanted to snatch up some of her work again.<br />
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<br /></div>
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="100" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=4208657827/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=ffffff/transparent=true/" style="display: block; height: 100px; position: relative; width: 400px;" width="400">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/sittin-in-the-backseat-2"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Sittin' in the Backseat by noah mclaughlin, Shay&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Sittin' in the backseat, leanin' on the window<br />
I can see your lips move but I can't hear you<br />
Over the stereo<br />
<br />
Puttin' all your anger down on the floorboard<br />
You don't even realize, starin' into his eyes<br />
You are a victim of your own accord<br />
Upset like the weather ruffled up your feathers<br />
It's a big ole fiery mess; can't feel my feet in this wreck,<br />
An' it's ten seconds 'til we're severed<br />
<br />
Sittin' in the backseat, leaning on the window<br />
I can see your lips move but I can't hear you<br />
Over the stereo<br />
<br />
Tempers roared like dragon's breath, n' I came face to face with death<br />
Couldn't run the other way; numb to the core, I just prayed<br />
Held on so tight to my breath ...<br />
He loves you, don't you know; promised he'd never let you go<br />
I saw him pull you from this wreck an' I hoped for one more breath<br />
To say I love you so ...<br />
<br />Sittin' in the backseat, leaning on the window<br />
It's getting cold now, I'll see you somehow<br />
Heaven's calling me to go<br />
<br />
Sittin' in the backseat, leaning on the window<br />
I don't see your lips move, no, I can't hear you<br />
Over the stereo</i></span>
<br />
<br />
A few things drew me to these lyrics. First, I like the story and its ambiguities. You get the sense of a love-triangle here, but how does the narrator feel about that? There's some distance in the chorus that stands in tension with the verses. Secondly, the imagery is great. Shay has a knack for taking up everyday images (like a car ride) and using them as ... well, vehicles for wonderful metaphors. "Upset like the weather ruffled up your feathers" is fantastic. And that leads me to the next thing that drew me to these lyrics: the abundance of internal rhymes. I love unconventional poetic play like that.<br />
<br />
Creating what is effectively an accompaniment to someone else's ideas is always a challenge. I'm sure that Shay writes with a certain rhythm, if not melody, in mind, but she's adamant about giving her collaborator's a free hand. For this work, the particular challenge was that there isn't a clear chorus. It's all written in tercets with lots of internal rhymes. Indeed, for a long time I had little more than a tenuous chord progression. Over the course of nearly two weeks (that's nearly half of FAWM), I fished about for a "sound." Was this a folk song? The car motif didn't seem to fit that genre. A country tune? The metaphors were just too poetic for that vein.<br />
<br />
With a mixture of counter-culture glee and dread I decided this would be a rock song, and that I'd have to ask Tom Petty over for some crooning and composition advice. It was at this point that I really found the chorus, which in retrospect is obvious: any tercet that opens with "Sittin' in the backseat." To provide some variation, I added a break/solo with a dramatic tempo change.<br />
<br />
I finished principle recording for this during FAWM, but there are some sigfinicant changes that I've made since, especially with the vocals:<br />
<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="100" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=2927252241/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=ffffff/transparent=true/" style="display: block; height: 100px; position: relative; width: 400px;" width="400">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;lt;a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/sittin-in-the-backseat-demo"&amp;amp;gt;Sittin' in the Backseat (Demo) by noah mclaughlin, Shay&amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe><br />
In my "Tom Petty" state of mind, I was looking for something low-key and rich on the vocal harmonies. As I put these down, I could tell there wasn't enough energy there but I couldn't find a good timbre that fit in the tempo. It felt like I was yelling or just forcing things, especially in the chorus. (You don't hear that in the demo; it didn't work, so it didn't make the mix.) This first recording was good enough for FAWM, but I knew I had to revisit things for the album. I suppose it was really just a matter of time away from the mixing board, and the decisions to put away the Petty-esque smoothness of my original intentions and pick up my signature growl.<br />
<br />
Another significant change is the turnarounds: they're gone. I always wanted this song to have a lot of dynamics, but upon review, the turnarounds are just dead weight, especially that piano-only riff after the first chorus. It's very pretty, but it doesn't fit with the rising crescendo of the story, and the slow-down for the solo works better musically and narratively. I was kind of sad to see the first solo go, since it's hard for me to write good guitar solos, but sometimes you have to step aside and do what's right for the song.<br />
<br />
I promised a song about Whitnet Houston this week and I'm ready to deliver. Come back soon!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-61071314403811731782012-05-21T10:24:00.000-04:002012-05-21T10:37:05.454-04:00Where You Can Go: "it was a pleasure to burn" production diaryEver had an unhealthy obsession? One that you would follow the ends of the Earth just to stop off the edge? 'Fess up, we all have. "<a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/where-you-can-go-2" target="_blank">Where You Can Go</a>" is the next track for my album-in-progress <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/album/it-was-a-pleasure-to-burn" target="_blank"><i>it was a pleasure to burn</i></a>. She was written for a <a href="http://www.songfight.org/songpage.php?key=where_you_can_go" target="_blank">January Song Fight</a>! Like any good, fiery obsession, I begged, borrowed and stole to make her what she is; this essay is my post-modern musical <i>mea culpa</i>.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Picture by zetson: www.flickr.com/photos/zetson/</td></tr>
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<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="100" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=2524383693/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=ffffff/transparent=true/" style="display: block; height: 100px; position: relative; width: 400px;" width="400">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/where-you-can-go-2"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;where you can go by noah mclaughlin&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">
oh i look for wisdom<br /><i>
in every word you say</i><br /><i>
but there is only madness</i><br /><i>
when you lead me astray</i><br /><i>
you don't really mean it</i><br /><i>
your intentions never cruel</i><br /><i>
but you are made of matches</i><br /><i>
i am made of fuel</i><br />
<br /><i>
wherever you can go</i><br /><i>
whatever you may need</i><br /><i>
whatever you may want</i><br /><i>
however high the fee</i><br />
<br /><i>
my good friend leo tolstoy</i><br /><i>
wrote of anna based on me</i><br /><i>
he said you gotta be perfect</i><br /><i>
he said you gotta be free</i><br /><i>
and chuck bent over backwards</i><br /><i>
that soused up albatross</i><br /><i>
well, he said much the same thing:</i><br /><i>
steal away from loss</i><br />
<br /><i>
wither thou would go</i><br /><i>
i will follow; i am blind</i><br /><i>
however hard the blow</i><br /><i>
these are the ties that grind</i><br />
<br /><i>
wither thou would go</i><br /><i>
i will cleave to thee</i><br /><i>
however hard the blow</i><br /><i>
however deep the sea</i></span></i>
<br />
<br />
Songs usually have a specific flash-point for me. "Where You Can Go" was a combination of a cool bass line and my songwriting surroundings. For the guitar riff and overall feel of the song, my main inspiration was the Toadie's "Possum Kingdom."<br />
<br />
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Turns out that for the bass line I stumbled upon Midnight Oil's riff in "Beds are Burning."<br />
<br />
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<br />
Hey, if you're going to unintentionally rip something off, make it something good!<br />
<br />
When not <a href="http://jardincandide.blogspot.com/2012/05/it-was-pleasure-to-burn-production_17.html" target="_blank">humming to myself on my scooter ride home</a>, I do most of my songwriting in my library. For this tune, all I had to do was turn my head to the left:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqfLvXueTAfOyNeUPpD4j7c91X9bSK3EtCxGVitNXZ8EmYwNKErad0WrmUEzcQzSdgNQNC3ZpCTRpGXl2N9xH55v8IrRYYO7XlWvcKF2USTgJZfZ-DnH5CNmfAHqaL85D8DVmNLNJrkZUN/s1600/anna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqfLvXueTAfOyNeUPpD4j7c91X9bSK3EtCxGVitNXZ8EmYwNKErad0WrmUEzcQzSdgNQNC3ZpCTRpGXl2N9xH55v8IrRYYO7XlWvcKF2USTgJZfZ-DnH5CNmfAHqaL85D8DVmNLNJrkZUN/s320/anna.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Yes, that's Tolstoy's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anna_Karenina" target="_blank">Anna Karenina</a> wedged at the end of all that Tolkein. Anna and her unhappy marriage; Anna and her fatal obsession with sex, happiness and freedom. Since my mind works my association, I lept from there to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Book_of_ruth" target="_blank">Book of Ruth</a> and Ruth's devotion to her mother-in-law, Naomi. Ruth has one of my favorite lines from anything, "Wither thou goest, I will cleave to thee." I love that mixed implication of love and violence. Finally, no post-modern mash-up of mine would be complete without some reference to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baudelaire" target="_blank">Charles Baudelaire's</a> <a href="http://fleursdumal.org/poem/200" target="_blank">Albatross</a>, that melancholic <i>raison d'être</i> for poets. This is more than just a pedantic assortment of borrowings: they come together to highlight the desperate longing that I want to express.<br />
<br />
Since this song debuted at Song Fight! I was able to receive some constructive criticism. Originally, the verses were flipped: I opened with the "Leo Tolstoy" line. Many reviews noted "This is a rock song; why are you opening with classic literature?!" Well, the references stay, because they are the heart of the lyric for me and I enjoy the contrast of Pop and "High" culture. However, such a specific reference, especially right out of the gate, can be limiting. The second verse is equally strong, so I decided to lead with that for this new version.<br />
<br />
This song always wanted a guitar solo to round out the composition and make it fit better in the rock genre I'm using. I have the hardest time composing solos, which are always more about tone and rhythm than melody. I probably spent more time writing that simple line than the lyrics. Lyrics are easy more me; interesting melodies - no matter the instrument - are hard.<br />
<br />
This is one of the few songs I've written with a prechorus. Songwriting competitions have taught me to get to the good part of your tune and don't meander about with the unnecessary. But I've been stretching my composition muscles lately, and from the beginning I knew that I wanted something of anti-chorus, just a pure vocal melody. (Also, Nirvana's "Lithium" is awesome - and there's another thing I've stolen.)<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/3fIqq5XVFKQ?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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I promised up-tempo songs last week, and <a href="http://jardincandide.blogspot.com/2012/05/it-was-pleasure-to-burn-production_17.html" target="_blank">Panacea</a> certainly delivered. Technically, "Where You Can Go" is only 104 bpm, but it's much more intense, darker and rocking than the other songs I've finished so far. Plus, it was a good break from the tumultuous time that was recording "Panacea."<br />
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Plenty more to come! For the next offerings, I'm planning to head to Atlanta (I wrote a song about Whitney Houston, how weird is that?) and other things southern (Tom Petty stopped by with a guest lyricist).Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-81184631635376089032012-05-17T20:14:00.000-04:002012-05-21T10:25:03.565-04:00Panacea: "it was a pleasure to burn" production diaryThe story of "Panacea" comes from all over the place. But her recording process was a lesson in rhythm and just letting things flow.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQHjtbevp-cXHPEvztqm542qC5OabnKFteWeeSmHrj-i6s_uEzkAFMA2kvO4LoV2JwGd5H1839cCDoZx32JQNlQxULbdyE8q2QN0xQBfP4wRmWzero1lISG5V6nxhXMGYmD7PSPFLYU4Ur/s1600/beata+panacea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQHjtbevp-cXHPEvztqm542qC5OabnKFteWeeSmHrj-i6s_uEzkAFMA2kvO4LoV2JwGd5H1839cCDoZx32JQNlQxULbdyE8q2QN0xQBfP4wRmWzero1lISG5V6nxhXMGYmD7PSPFLYU4Ur/s320/beata+panacea.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From Wikimedia Commons</td></tr>
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I wrote this song for <a href="http://fawm.org/" target="_blank">FAWM</a> this year (and for the curious, here's <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/panacea-demo" target="_blank">the demo</a>). I have a hard time writing "happy" songs; I guess I take myself too seriously. But "Panacea" was one of those tunes that sneaks up on you and goes "Surprise! Take me home!" This is literally what happened; the first few lines and the melody came to me as I strapped on my helmet to ride home. I had to sing to myself the whole way so I didn't forget.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="100" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=2007347160/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=ffffff/transparent=true/" style="display: block; height: 100px; position: relative; width: 400px;" width="400">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/panacea-2"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;panacea by noah mclaughlin&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe>
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<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">she sits all day in the sun</i><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>
she's in love with everyone<br />
she plays out in the rain<br />
she's the cure for all of your pain<br />
<br />
panacea<br />
i see you<br />
<br />
her smile can melt the clouds<br />
her song can draw a crowd<br />
catch a glance from her emerald eyes<br />
watch her soar through azure skies<br />
<br />
panacea<br />
i see you<br />
<br />
she's everyone's darling starling<br />
when the sunset is drawing near<br />
from her strawberry throne<br />
she always goes home alone<br />
<br />
panacea<br />
i see you</i></span>
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<br />
Originally, I was drawing from the <a href="http://www.indigogirls.com/home.html" target="_blank">Indigo Girls</a>, especially their early simple stuff like you can hear on <a href="http://www.allmusic.com/album/1200-curfews-r224546" target="_blank">1200 Curfews</a>. Hence the doubled vox and the bare acoustic guitar. But after cutting the quick demo during FAWM, things changed.<br />
<br />
I was always happy with "Panacea," and it was easy to put her on the short list for <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/album/it-was-a-pleasure-to-burn" target="_blank">the new album</a>. While planning the full-fledged recording, I had an epiphany in the shower one morning: she's in 6/4 time. Not 3/4 time, not 6/8 and certainly not the much more popular 4/4. 6/4. It make percussion a conundrum. What does 6/4 <i>sound like</i>? Is there a back-beat? Is the downbeat on 1 and 3? Does it split 4 and 2 (or 2 and 4)? It doesn't help that <a href="http://www.toontrack.com/products.asp?item=7&gclid=CJiEx__DiLACFQcFnQodB3adMQ" target="_blank">EZDrummer</a> doesn't have 6/4 samples.<br />
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Enter a new songwriting touchstone. I recently discovered <a href="http://pearlandthebeard.com/" target="_blank">Pearl and the Beard</a>, and marveled at their lush vocal harmonies and unconventional instrumentation. For a long time I've planned to record a song in their style, and after one false start, I believe I managed it here. The key, actually, is the wonderful stomps and claps like in <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=07eJDn4_1mg" target="_blank">Douglas Douglass</a>. (And so, it turns out, there <i>is </i>a back-beat!) It also turns out that if you tweak pre-programmed 6/8 beats, they work pretty well, especially at 160 bpm.<br />
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That's right: one hundred and sixty beats per minute. I think this is the fastest song I've ever recorded. It's also one of the most fun, and one whose recording took me to neat and unexpected places once I let it. After the weird time signature, the biggest obstacle was actually the acoustic guitar part. It's fast; too fast, it turns out, for me to strum with a pick. This is important, because recording a clean, clear finger-strummed part is hard. I fought and cried and swore, but in the end, that bloody rhythm won out. Finger strummed in full up-tempo glory. (There's all kinds of mic positioning and EQ to get that lovely tone, if you need to know.) In the midst of my guitar battle, weird and wonderful things happened. My organ tone showed up and wanted to play. A bouncy little bass line grooved its way into the chorus, but insisted on being demure for the verse. I fiddled an diddled with those turn-arounds, and the fake ending was a fluke that made me go "Ooh, nice! That stays."<br />
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In the end, the odd collection of disparate parts has come together in wonderful way. "Panacea" part folk ode, part hip-hop sampling and part Brookly hipster groove. Whatever she is, she makes me happy. I hope you enjoy!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-38303625958905394172012-05-12T07:01:00.000-04:002012-05-21T10:25:16.868-04:00Occupy My Heart: "it was a pleasure to burn" production diary"Occupy My Heart" was written for a <a href="http://www.songfight.org/songpage.php?key=occupy_my_heart" target="_blank">November 2011</a> <a href="http://www.songfight.org/" target="_blank">Song Fight!</a> She's evolved significantly since her inception and, for me, has become as a study in songwriting concision and making choices that serve the song and not an arbitrary set of goals.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs2GWRFC9v8dB-Q6QwtqdFt7eJGwr2t4SO1155jWTVQ2BcVQOH56uiIrxWBQMfa-3pusN6g-aFgYjjCdsranlrQXmiDpnVH9mYBhNf1S4OLc_7pcCDXzK3kcu3_3m4ntyj7Iytb6dJc3qa/s1600/occupy+tent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs2GWRFC9v8dB-Q6QwtqdFt7eJGwr2t4SO1155jWTVQ2BcVQOH56uiIrxWBQMfa-3pusN6g-aFgYjjCdsranlrQXmiDpnVH9mYBhNf1S4OLc_7pcCDXzK3kcu3_3m4ntyj7Iytb6dJc3qa/s320/occupy+tent.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Late October/early November last year was was a high-tide moment for the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Occupy_movement" target="_blank">Occupy Movement</a>. In typical Song Fight! snark, the Fightmasters gave us the chance to be topical, personal or both. The latest version is significantly different from my <a href="http://www.songfight.org/music/occupy_my_heart/noahmclaughlin_omh.mp3" target="_blank">original</a>.<br />
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<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="100" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=1332635226/size=venti/bgcol=transparent/linkcol=FFFFFF/" style="display: block; height: 100px; position: relative; width: 400px;" width="400">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/occupy-my-heart-2"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;occupy my heart by noah mclaughlin&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>there ain't no permits needed<br />
no one's wearin' riot gear<br />
i don't have a sign to wave<br />
i just want you here<br />
but i'll take your red tent cities<br />
i'll take your 99<br />
i'll take your white-hot anger<br />
i just want your hand in mine<br />
<br />
and it's funny cuz you're next to me<br />
but we're a long time apart<br />
come on over, the space is free<br />
why don't you occupy my heart<br />
<br />
the world is going down (in flames!)<br />
and i spend my nights alone (drinkin' whislkey!)<br />
there may be a body there<br />
but you are long, long gone<br />
come back for the revolution<br />
come back and sing along<br />
come back for the retribution<br />
come back - i was wrong<br />
<br />
and it's funny cuz you're next to me<br />
but we're a long time apart<br />
come on over, the space is free<br />
why don't you occupy my heart</i></span>
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I was always satisfied with the concept behind this tune, which allowed me to both be topical and craft a personalized twist on the politics of the moment. The simple but fun guitar riff forms a great foundation, and I get the chance to break out my slide guitar obsession again. However, at the time, I was seeking to challenge myself as a songwriter and singer, so the Song Fight! submission had several elements that I've removed or rearranged. In the end, I decided they were present because I wanted something that seemed sophisticated and unconventional; they didn't serve the song best.<br />
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There are two major structural changes. The first draft had a bridge:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
i've been drinkin' these long nights<br />
drinkin' whiskey all alone<br />
drinkin' down to the bottom of my soul<br />
i don't know what's got you so riled<br />
but i know it' was wrong of me to say<br />
"wait a while"</blockquote>
But the melody isn't all that different from the verse, and it basically says the same thing as the second verse but with less poetry. I ditched the singing for a break-down section that let me do some minimalist guitar noodling. Also, while the basic guitar vamp is pretty nifty, the best part of this song is the chorus. So, why not lead with that, giving me a chance to highlight that slide riff? Besides, it starts the song on an upbeat note instead of a typical low-key intro section.<br />
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Overall, the first draft is busier and (overly) energetic. The slide guitar has an overblown delay effect that chews up real-estate, and there's my favorite organ tone again, adding a nifty back-beat emphasis to the chorus. The vocals are hotter, more desperate and simply more fragile.<br />
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Still, those harmonies with the background vox are pretty cool. Those stayed, but for the remix, I went in with the mantra that less is more. I pulled back the desperation of the vocal performance for a more resigned feeling that played to my strengths rather than challenge them with few dividends. I removed the organ entirely; it worked, but not completely, and I have plenty of other tunes that feature it in more interesting ways. It's replaced with a MIDI harmonica bit that feels more appropriate to the country-blues genre I'm evoking.<br />
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What remains after the gutting and transformation of the original tune is something a lot less ambitious, but more direct and engaging. I was able to nail the conflicted melancholy of the protagonist more effectively, and I'm rather proud of the lead guitar parts since my proficiency with such things is rather limited.<br />
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With these first three entries, there's been a distinct laid-back country vibe. It's the running theme for it was a pleasure to burn, but I don't want to fall into that trap where each song on an album sounds too similar. Next week, I'll shake things up with a few up-tempo offerings from this year's <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/album/fawm-2012" target="_blank">FAWM</a>.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-14349723113739428562012-05-10T12:54:00.001-04:002012-05-21T10:25:29.700-04:00Gravity: "it was a pleasure to burn" production diary<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
These past two days, I've been visiting with an old friend: "Gravity." I wrote this song for <a href="https://sites.google.com/site/mclaughlinnoah/home" target="_blank"><i>swim for shore</i></a>, an album I released in Fall, 2008.</div>
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">There's so much that I like about "Gravity" that I wanted to revisit it, tighten up my vocal performance and give it a fuller production.</span></div>
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Here's the original recording:</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">And here's the version I just finished:</span><br />
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<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="100" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=3441541251/size=venti/bgcol=transparent/linkcol=FFFFFF/" style="display: block; height: 100px; position: relative; width: 400px;" width="400">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/gravity"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;gravity by noah mclaughlin&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe>
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<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">the world has come together</i></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>
the world will fly apart<br />
seeking dreams we chase the shadow<br />
that lies within our heart<br />
word for word I know the story<br />
the tales in colors stark<br />
down the path unknowing known<br />
we stumble in the dark<br />
<br />
and your gravity<br />
how it pulls at me<br />
does my gravity<br />
pull you free<br />
<br />
in orbit round we circle<br />
this azure mass untamed<br />
the heavens all a-singing<br />
our passions all aflame<br />
oh supplications muted<br />
we strain to hear the tune<br />
that single chord we have forgot<br />
that rest we left too soon<br />
<br />
and your gravity<br />
how it pulls at me<br />
does my gravity<br />
pull you free<br />
<br />
what have you forsaken?<br />
my god e'er lost in pain<br />
suffer long the quiet aching<br />
and listen to the rain<br />
blood will wash our misdirection<br />
as it falls upon the ground<br />
we are now all pulled together<br />
by one divine sound<br />
<br />
and your gravity<br />
how it pulls at me<br />
does my gravity<br />
pull you free</i></span><br />
<br />
Lyrically, I was inspired (and continue to be) by the work of <a href="http://www.leonardcohen.com/us/home" target="_blank">Leonard Cohen</a>, the way that he blends Judeo-Christian imagery with longing and Existentialism. I also have a long-standing fascination with physics and the way that our mathematical understanding about the universe can serve as a metaphor for how we relate to each other as flesh-and-blood human beings. The changes I made in the new version are pretty minor; I tweaked a few words, especially in the chorus for variety. But I was always happy with the core of this song.<br />
<br />
The chord progression in the verse is somewhat symmetrical:<br />
<br />
the [C#m] world has [E] come [B] together<br />
the [C#m] world will [E] fly [A] apart<br />
[C#m] seeking [E] dreams we [A] chase the shadow<br />
that [C#m] lies with [E] in our [B] heart<br />
<br />
This was tricky to record since I prefer cyclical patterns, like in the chorus (a simple F# - Emaj9 - B). The whole thing is capo'd on the fourth fret, so these fancy chords are actually pretty simple: Am - C - G (or F) for the verse and D - Cmaj9 - G for the chorus.<br />
<br />
I'm a sucker for slide guitar and definitely wanted to keep that slinky lead, but decided for a new intro that is more dynamic and even a little mysterious. After losing my old slide in New York last year, I finally cracked and picked up a new one. It sounds so much better than the cigarette lighters I've used in the meantime.<br />
<br />
In the original recording, I achieved that lovely distorted organ sound with a Shadow acoustic pickup, <a href="http://www.musiciansfriend.com/accessories/shadow-sh-145-prestige-active-soundhole-humbucker" target="_blank">kind of like this one</a>, and then ran the output through Florida Music Company's free <a href="http://www.floridamusicco.com/download.asp" target="_blank">TubeAmp</a> VST plug-in. It was a neat trick, since I was able to record the same performance: one input from the pick up, another from a USB microphone. TubeAmp returns in the new recording, still processing the overdriven guitar in the chorus. But that's my trusty ESP Ltd electric guitar now, and it's doubly overdriven, since I record through a <a href="http://www.musiciansfriend.com/pro-audio/line-6-line-6-pod-studio-ux1-with-pod-farm" target="_blank">Line 6 Pod UX1</a> and use a great preset I've dubbed "Prince Corvette power chords."<br />
<br />
Since 2008, I've accrued several tools beyond the Pod UX1. The most important are a pair of <a href="http://www.speakerrepair.com/mm5/merchant.mvc?Screen=PROD&Store_Code=genem&Product_Code=37-205&Category_Code=microphones" target="_blank">GLS Audio microphones</a>, but the toy I'm really excited about is <a href="http://www.toontrack.com/products.asp?item=7" target="_blank">EZDrummer</a>. I'm still learning the finer points of this program, but it has made creating engaging, dynamic percussion so much easier than before, when I was programming every last hit by hand with <a href="http://www.leafdigital.com/software/leafdrums/" target="_blank">leafDrums</a>. (You can hear a leafDrums composition on "<a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/only-you-behind" target="_blank">Only You Behind</a>," the subject of <a href="http://jardincandide.blogspot.com/2012/05/it-was-pleasure-to-burn-production.html" target="_blank">Entry the First</a> of this production diary, and on the original recording of "Gravity" as well.) I've always struggled with fills and simple-but-interesting drum parts and now EZDrummer's vast library of samples gives me all sorts of great-sounding bits. Plus, tweaking the samples is a piece of cake; just crack open the MIDI editor in my <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Digital_audio_workstation" target="_blank">DAW</a> (I use <a href="http://reaper.fm/" target="_blank">REAPER</a>) and add the touches I need or shave the bits I don't want.<br />
<br />
The other newcomer is <a href="http://mda.smartelectronix.com/" target="_blank">MDA's ePiano VSTi</a>, which sounds nothing a piano, but produces a fabulous organ tone that I then ran through an string ensemble pad effect from <a href="http://dasample.com/products/glaceverb/" target="_blank">DaSample's GlaceVerb</a>. That's the wonderful glow in the background.<br />
<br />
There must be something about the keys of E and B, because I've always felt very comfortable singing this melody, even as it stretches my limited, low range. Recording this, I tried a new method, placing the microphone higher than my nose-line, forcing me to sing upwards. It made achieving strong, clear notes a lot easier. I still have a funny stance with my right leg way out in front, like I'm getting ready to run or attack someone, but that's my "energy stance." It works.<br />
<br />
Interestingly, the new version of "Gravity" is one of my most populated. Most of my songs have eight to ten individual tracks. "Gravity" has sixteen! Some of them are very small: a few bars for those organ crescendos or the third verse backing vocals. Still, there are many elements and it was a challenge to blend them all appropriately. I'm very satisfied with the end-product, which has a full texture but manages to highlight different parts as needed.<br />
<br />
Looking at this entry, there was a lot of recording technique at play, more than I normally employ. Because "Gravity" was such a set part of my repertoire, I think that I was able to focus on that aspect of song-craft. Thanks for coming along! Follow, bookmark, what-have-you, there's plenty more to come!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-28399555068999859732012-05-08T07:58:00.000-04:002012-05-21T10:25:56.211-04:00Only You Behind: "it was a pleasure to burn" production diaryIt's time to dust off this empty loft, wipe away the cobwebs, open the windows and fill it again. It's also time to compile my annual anthology of songwriting. Two birds; one stone: I'd like to invite you on a journey down a country road towards my latest album <i><a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/album/it-was-a-pleasure-to-burn" target="_blank">it was a pleasure to burn</a></i>. I've been prepping and simmering this idea for a while, as songs have accrued since last <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/album/secrets-replete" target="_blank">September</a>. At the moment things are kind of a mess: some of the tunes are nearly complete while some of them just need to be tweaked; others need a completely new pass or to be recorded at all! (And one zygote of a song needs a lot more gestation, but she's a fighter so I think she'll be fine.)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRtKOrC20ncEPDpaPKRHCMxcTNyQblwGriwJ-ImAV4hjsNRWrsskTrJwr6OeJBnH8Yym3NG3xEL8Ja0qnTBB8nsyM34CZrVCgpFJb3WTdy_xzN17uEoNG8o16NGfusylyFT3WSaNvMsX-0/s1600/12+-+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRtKOrC20ncEPDpaPKRHCMxcTNyQblwGriwJ-ImAV4hjsNRWrsskTrJwr6OeJBnH8Yym3NG3xEL8Ja0qnTBB8nsyM34CZrVCgpFJb3WTdy_xzN17uEoNG8o16NGfusylyFT3WSaNvMsX-0/s320/12+-+1.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Art courtesy of Denise Hudson's nephew.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I plan on working on this project most weekdays, and every time there's progress I'll share a bit of something with you. And not just the music, but the story, too. Basically, this is blog will be a kind of ever-evolving set of liner notes. Pay attention to the man behind the curtain: he's gesturing for you to come inside...<br />
<br />
"Only You Behind" is one of those "nearly complete" songs, and it's evolved to be something of the cornerstone of this album: a kind of contemplative, bitter-sweet journey.
<br />
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<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><i>
here's the back road i have been walking<br />
and it never seems to end<br />
twists and turns 'round mountains and valleys<br />
like a lover folds to river bends<br />
takes me on past lone empty diners<br />
through vast desserts and plains<br />
leads me deep into accented bayous<br />
'long tracks saggin' with trains<br />
<br />
and i don't know what it is<br />
thought i left you far behind<br />
that same old dream again<br />
you're always on my mind<br />
<br />
here's the last station where we once parted<br />
its hollow and wind-swept seats<br />
vaulted ceilings echo whispers of lovers<br />
salted windows count their heartbeats<br />
the platform is for entrances & exits<br />
each of us has their part<br />
but i don't 'spect much for applause<br />
another another day, another broken heart<br />
<br />
and i don't know what it is<br />
when the train don't arrive on time<br />
that same old dream again<br />
you're always on my mind<br />
<br />
here is a trail of storms and forgetting<br />
high in the mountain range<br />
watch the clouds kiss the peaks like a lover<br />
hear the thunder sing my pain<br />
feel the rain wash away all my sins<br />
cleanse the earth, cleanse my soul<br />
feel the wind dry all my tears<br />
let this hollow make me whole<br />
<br />
and i don't really understand<br />
the rain has left only you behind<br />
your phantom come again<br />
why are you always on my mind<br />
<br />
a burning serpent of asphalt and tar<br />
human hubris baked in black</i></span>
<br />
<br />
Many of my songs are written with a clear outside prompt: a title from <a href="http://www.songfight.org/" target="_blank">Song Fight!</a> a challenge from <a href="http://spintunes.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">SpinTunes</a> or just the pressure to produce for <a href="http://fawm.org/" target="_blank">FAWM</a>. Not so for "only you behind"; she came unbidden to the guitar, as I channeled as much Johnny Cash and Hank Williams, Senior as possible. I lifted the lick from a guitar method book, but it fit with the simplicity of the message and journey I wanted to take. At the time, I was specifically challenging myself to stretch the length of my melodic lines, and I believe I succeeded, though there isn't a lot of tonal variation. It's almost a country rap, but it still works, and there's a long tradition of this style anyway. Since I wasn't forging new musical ground, I wanted to emphasize the lyric, and especially metaphor, pulling from the <a href="http://www.etudes-litteraires.com/lamartine.php" target="_blank">Romantics</a> and my adolescence in the <a href="http://www.britannica.com/media/full/110452" target="_blank">Blue Ridge</a> of the Shenandoah Valley.<br />
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As for the composition, I'm most proud of the drum track, of all things. For quite a while now, I've been poking about looking for a way to make my drum programming sound more natural and interesting. These drums are messy: I've manually tweaked hits to be off by a few fractions of a second here and there. And it sounds pretty good. Which actually poses a small problem for the album as a whole: I've recently purchased <a href="http://www.toontrack.com/products.asp?item=7" target="_blank">EZDrummer</a> and it's far and away a better tool than my old drum program. So, I may revisit the percussion or I may just leave it be.<br />
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I don't normally slather on sound effects, but the thunderstorm seemed a logical touch. The midi violin... that may be first on the chopping block, but I want something unconventional to pop music while natural to the folk/country vibe I have here. Any violin players out there?<br />
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While this is a prominent song at the moment, I'm not sure that it's the album leader. In fact, its laid-back feel and rather lush instrumentation may make it a better closer. Sequencing is one of the last steps in making an album, so we'll just let that simmer.<br />
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Entry the First now draws to a close. Stay tuned; follow; bookmark: any of those things because there's lots more to come.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-4122015643159905312012-02-13T21:59:00.000-05:002012-02-14T22:40:20.078-05:00SpinTunes: Hey, JoeThe challenge for the second round of <a href="http://spintunes.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">SpinTunes 4</a> was pretty straight-foward: write a Valentines' Day card for someone other than your significant other. That suited me just fine: I actually find it hard to write about my wife (though <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/up-to-zion" target="_blank">I have done so</a> on a few occasions), and this challenge allowed me some welcome creative freedom with just the right amount of boundaries to get the juices flowing. I read the challenge first thing last Monday morning with a big cup of coffee in my hand and it was a "Eureka!" moment. (Well, in my early morning, pre-coffee haze more like: "Hmmmm... *look at coffee cup* Yup.")<br />
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Two things off the bat:<br />
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<ol>
<li>Please listen to the whole album. There is some fantastic stuff here. Brand new, and totally free. (I'm number 8 in the queue).</li>
<li>Please go vote for your favorites (and mine, too!) over on the <a href="http://spintunes.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">SpinTunes blog</a>. The popular vote counts like a judge, so <i>your voice is important.</i></li>
</ol>
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<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="410" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/album=1684989595/size=grande3/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=4285BB/transparent=true/" style="display: block; height: 410px; position: relative; width: 300px;" width="300">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://spintown.bandcamp.com/album/spintunes-4-round-2"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;SpinTunes #4: Round 2 by Everyone who entered a song in R2 of SpinTunes #4.&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe>
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Right, on with the show. For lyrics, beyond the condition of writing an ode (of sorts) that was not for my wife, I set myself the additional condition of not writing about a tryst, because that seemed facile. Coffee is something that I could pour myself into, so I set a third condition: don't mention the word "coffee." I like things that are discrete about their subject matter; and it's a good exercise in craft to make a clear description without naming a thing overtly.<br />
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It's often part of my creative process to have a touchstone for inspiration and reference. This tune has several. My primary reference for lyrics was an essay called "<a href="http://blissbat.net/balzac.html" target="_blank">The Pleasures and Pains of Coffee</a>," by the 19th-century realist <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Honor%C3%A9_de_Balzac" target="_blank">Honoré de Balzac</a>. This dude knew his stuff. (Side note as a French professor: the English translation is annoyingly edited, cobbled together from a much longer piece that's just as interesting, called the <a href="http://www.bmlisieux.com/curiosa/excitant.htm" target="_blank">Traité des excitants modernes</a>.) But I digress. Yes, I stole the "coffee roasts my insides" from Balzac.<br />
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wake [D] up, get out of bed<br />
[Am] have a cup and [C] tilt your head<br />
[G] [F]<br />
take a [Am] sip, another one<br />
[C] sugar, cream: your [D] motor runs<br />
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hey [D] joe, i am [Am] awake now<br />
you have [C] my vow, [G] thank you friend<br />
hey joe, what is this feeling<br />
my fingers tingling<br />
i think i love you<br />
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after lunch, another cup<br />
caffeine always help me sup<br />
take it black with a smoke<br />
gotta to keep my fires stoked<br />
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hey joe, you are my bright star<br />
you warm my heart every day<br />
hey joe, you roast my insides<br />
you make my eyes bright<br />
i think i love you<br />
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[G] i feel i am floating<br />
[F#] i feel i am flying<br />
[Em] i feel i am letting go<br />
in the air soaring<br />
upon the waves crashing<br />
oh will you help me joe<br />
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hey joe, don't want no mocha<br />
no chai latte, just grind it fine<br />
hey joe, this fine aroma<br />
it transports me,<br />
you're all mine<br />
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Musically, I had the second half of the Beatles' "A Day in the Life" in my head for some reason. I purposefully didn't listen to the song before writing and recording, relying upon the haze of my memory to give me enough distance. I'm no John Lennon, to be sure, but I'm quite happy with the way things turned out.<br />
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I have to admit, dealing with the piano part was a pain. Firstly, I don't have a keyboard; that's all programmed with the <a href="http://reaper.fm/" target="_blank">REAPER</a> MIDI interface. Secondly, for a long time, I had the parts reversed: the chorus was the verse. While that matched my memory of the verse from "A Day in the Life" a little better, it didn't work with the melody I had crafted. Once I swapped the parts, things went better, and when I changed the verse piano to a combo organ and synthesizer, it went much better. I'm really proud of the change in chord progression in the verse; I'm packing a lot of variation into not much space (well, for me) and that keeps it interesting.<br />
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I took a note from the Beatles as well for mixing, making the unconventional George Martin choice of hard-panning the drums and bass to one side and the guitars to the other (left and write, respectively.) I fiddled a little with the organ and piano parts, because that's where they sounded best, and chucked everything out for the bridge, using dynamic panning to introduction a sense of auditory delirium. It's a non-standard mixing choice, and so that can throw people off, but I think it works well for this tune, giving the whole thing space to breath. You really can pick out each part, which is something that I love about much of the Beatles' stuff.<br />
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Let's talk structure. I took a bit of inspiration from the previous round and went for a series of tempo changes: 132 bpm for the verse, 144 for the chorus, and 80 for the bridge. Still, there's the illusion of more variation with the constant breaks in the verse. I really wanted that part to have the Beatlesque vocal "Aaaaaah - aaaaaah," but I cannot sing like that, much less craft a similar harmony. So, I let the guitars do it for me. (Post-submission, I had the idea that the break leading into the chorus should go <i>up</i> from G to A instead of down to F. Ah well, noted for the remix.)<br />
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The bridge comes from an early version of the song that was inspired by French comic songwriters <a href="http://www.myspace.com/oldelafmonsieurd" target="_blank">Oldelaf and Monsieur D</a>., "Un p'tit café?"<br />
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I originally had the narrator going crazy, coming home and murdering his family as a proof of his devotion to Joe. It was a too dark for a light-hearted love song. And having a constant tempo increase would have been too much a direct rip of Oldelaf's and Monsieur D's genius.<br />
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One thing that I was <b>not</b> referencing - for some reason - was the 50's / 60's rock standard "Hey Joe," perhaps most famously covered by Jimi Hendrix. I only ran across this when Googling album art for <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/" target="_blank">my Bandcamp page</a>. [/shameless plug]<br />
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<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5911051468444235841.post-58200597899279469902012-02-03T06:00:00.000-05:002012-02-03T16:21:58.245-05:00FAWM 2012: Week 1On top of <a href="http://www.songfight.org/" target="_blank">Song Fight!</a> and <a href="http://spintunes.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">SpinTunes</a>, I enjoy participating in <a href="http://fawm.org/" target="_blank">February Album Writing Month</a>. Each of these organizations / challenges has its own distinct atmosphere. Song Fight! is heavy on the criticism, but frequently in a very constructive way, and there's a lot of buy-in from the entire community to keep things going and continually improve things. SpinTunes, despite being a more focused songwriting competition, has a much more laid-back and convivial feel to the interactions. It's held rather infrequently, but there's a pretty solid core of people who regularly participate as either judges or contestants.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWSgCfIPDH1hhbfnE35vb9erLGCLTFEYbIpmvynZOEcXwtlynpIeMKAUXyOY8Fv5Mb5bc456YORZwjBdnyf02IkLCdhnCXJyZUP_DBK75Ri7SMduNvhZKxldQARgzFm5Fcf7_Aj_R7ySNL/s1600/FAWM-logo-600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWSgCfIPDH1hhbfnE35vb9erLGCLTFEYbIpmvynZOEcXwtlynpIeMKAUXyOY8Fv5Mb5bc456YORZwjBdnyf02IkLCdhnCXJyZUP_DBK75Ri7SMduNvhZKxldQARgzFm5Fcf7_Aj_R7ySNL/s320/FAWM-logo-600.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
FAWM is something else entirely. If Song Fight! is a perpetual songwriting workshop, and SpinTunes is a Battle of the Bands, FAWM is a giant block party. It reminds me of <a href="http://www.fetedelamusique.culture.fr/en/International/presentation/" target="_blank">la Fête de la musique</a>, with everybody playing every which way, what, where and how. The point isn't to craft great songs and hone your skills. It's just to get 14 songs written during the shortest month of the year.<br />
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You heard me right: 14 songs in 28 days. It's no small feat. In fact, I've never done it. Last year I think I hit ten, but only had nine recordings. 2010 only got three or four. Nonetheless, it's a great exercise in <i>just getting it done and out there</i>.<br />
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So, this the attitude I'm taking this year: write the damn tune, slap it down in demo form and move on to the next. Focus on the bigger pictures - melody, lyric, structure, narrative - instead of the minutiae of a killer drum track or building a third guitar part for the chorus. Attention to the immediate and the particular; I'll come back to the gems and refine them for an album over the some - probably Mayish.<br />
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You can visit my FAWM page <a href="http://fawm.org/fawmers/nyjm/" target="_blank">here</a>. I'll also be posting my demos on <a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/album/fawm-2012" target="_blank">Bandcamp</a>, just I can use the handy embedded playlist and you can listen to them right here:<br />
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<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="410" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/album=1648790405/size=grande3/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=4285BB/" style="display: block; height: 250px; position: relative; width: 300px;" width="300">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/album/fawm-2012"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;FAWM 2012 by noah mclaughlin&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe>
It's the evening of February 2 as I write this, and that means I've completed two brand new songs in as many days. That's pretty damn good, if I do say so myself. (Mind you, I'm going to be busy over the long weekend, so that ratio's going to drop off mighty quick.) But let's savor the moment and talk a little about these tunes.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>All Swear About Murder</b></span>
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"All swear about murder" was a typo on a <a href="http://plus.google.com/" target="_blank">Google+</a> post many months ago. It was just too good of a phrase to let go, so I plunked it down in <a href="http://www.evernote.com/" target="_blank">Evernote</a> and since then it's been steadily accruing companions from various places, though I must admit that <a href="http://philosophywithfries.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Denise Hudson</a> consistently turns a pretty phrase and I pilfer her disjecta with gusto. I started this with the clear intention never to mention the word murder, and I enjoy the ambiguity of what being "all swear" means. It's a flashback episode, too, starting at the end of the story, with a little plot twist at the end of Act One. When writing the prechorus, I decided the first line was just too good. Rather than jam it into a chorus, I just ditched the idea altogether. Chorus no; bridge, yes. The first line and the entire general grove of the bridge is actually ripped from a cover of a song by The Books that I did for <a href="http://www.soultreerecords.com/GOM/about.html" target="_blank">Gift of Music</a> this year, "<a href="http://noahmclaughlin.bandcamp.com/track/a-cold-freezin-night" target="_blank">A Cold Freezin' Night</a>." I liked being able to the turn the original lyric on its head.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Panacea</b></span><br />
For some reason, it's really, really hard for me to write happy songs. I take myself too seriously, and I appreciate how much craft it takes to be funny. Being tragic is easier. So, I was delighted when a rather happy little ditty popped into my head on the way home this afternoon. Maybe it was the sunshine after days of rain. Maybe it was the car exhaust as I putted about on my scooter. Maybe Euterpe just had a caprice. Whatever, I took the idea and ran with it, keeping things as simple as possible: straight I - V - IV verse and few 7ths and 9ths for chorus. The doubled vocal track was a last-minute addition; i rather like it, but it'll take some serious honing in revisions. I waffled a lot about having a bridge. The 3rd verse was originally a bridge, but I didn't have anything more to say, and the melody wasn't all that different anyway. (Actually, the verse chord progression was going to be only for the bridge, but it was too good.)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0