In a post I worte the purpose of art is to fill the void where worry waits to live. At least that’s how it is for me.
Listening, creating or just thinking about music or whatever art form pleases you can take away your cares and stop them from moving in.
I think about these statements when I play my drums, or write songs, or write poems or even when I am writing these posts.
I think about how I get lost in the moment, how I never want the feeling I get from doing these creative things to end. Continue reading
I’ve finally done something that I had put off for a long, long time. It’s singing.
I’ve written about my home recording studio and doing what I call “sketches” of songs. Basically they are all the parts and tracks of a song less a melody. These “sketches” are like a groove that has an arrangement but needs the melody to tie it all together.
I struggle with melodies and I believe this is due to two reasons. Continue reading
I am not a frustrated musician.
When I first decided to return to music I went to my friend in Pittsburgh who I had worked with and played with at his studio. He put together a little reunion of our band from back in the seventies. We rented a studio for the weekend and went in and just played some of the songs from the band days.
It was a really cool way to welcome myself back to music.
Now some people that we knew when we were a band and some people that had worked at the studio came to watch and enjoy this little two day get together. Continue reading
Programmed drums, I don’t use them very much when I write and record. There primary use for me is a click track.
Back in the eighties when drum machines first started to take off I was concerned about my profession as were a number of drummers. At first these drum machines were nothing more than a glorified metronome with simulated drum sounds.
Then they were able to take samples of actual drums that sounded great and came up with a flawless, tireless, attitude less, always on time drummer.
But it was also a soulless drummer. Continue reading
I have written about some of my favorite artists but today I wanted to write about one of my most favorite artists (if there is such a thing as most favorite), Eric Clapton.
I want to write about the honesty in his work which I am sure translates into him as a person.
A few years back my wife bought some CD’s at a yard sale and among the many that she brought home was Eric Clapton’s “Pilgrim”.
When I first reviewed the CD insert I looked at the credits. I noticed it was all electronic programmed drums. That instantly turned me off. But when I finally sat down and started listening to it I liked it and it quickly became one of my favorite Clapton albums.
One of my favorite songs on “Pilgrim” is “River of Tears”. At first I couldn’t believe that “River of Tears” was programmed drums. Continue reading
Thought I would write about Rumer one more time.
As you may know from my previous posts on this subject I bought both of her albums, Seasons of My Soul and Boys Don’t Cry.
The other morning as I was getting into my truck one of the songs, “P.F.Sloan” kept running through my head. My mind was made up as to what album I was going to listen to on my way to work that day.
One weekend my daughter was going out with her friends and wondered if my wife and I would watch our grandson.
She asked me if I had ever heard of the local band they were going to see. I heard of them but I never saw them play.
Then she said with a bit of disappointment “Oh, they look kind of old.”
When I looked at the band’s publicity pictures they didn’t look like a bunch of guys in their twenties but “old” is not a word that came to my mind. To me they looked like they could have been in their mid to late thirties possibly their forties.
To someone who is in their late fifties that is not old. Old would be watching someone my father’s age play.
I don’t mind her calling them old. I understand it’s subjective to the viewer’s perspective. Continue reading