Jumped on the soundcloud bandwagon so's to start uploading electronic compositions:
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Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Monday, October 24, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
Basking in some local music...
TA-DAAAAAAAA~!
Camps are over. I prayed hard and I worked hard and it turned out beautifully. We had a pizza party on Friday, and there's a few of us who'll go in and deep-clean this week... but it's pretty much... done.
The monsoon cancelled our weekend programs, so I just got to sit around the house. It was a good thing... I was in a little physical pain and a little spiritual pain, neither of which I'd like to go into detail about on this here blog. Most of my weekend, therefore, was NOT dedicated to cleaning (so the house still looks like it's the last week of camp), but rather to sitting in my favorite recliner and busting out some Final Fantasy III.
Anyway, it was a good weekend, full of music and people. I had the chance to see a couple different shows... Bullbuckers played at Home Grown in Newark on Saturday night. Facebook informed me of it about 8 hours prior. I have my ups and my downs with social media, but that was a definite UP!
Bullbuckers is a local ska band - I saw them open for the Toasters here in Delaware a month or two ago. (Another one Facebook told me about.) I lost my favored FAWM hoodie there, but the bands did such a good job keepin' everyone skankin' all night that frankly, I just didn't care. Bullbuckers are a seven- or eight-piece band, and they rocked at Mojo 13 that night. I couldn't believe they were a local band - with a sound that polished, they had to be touring from somewhere. Anyway, I'm glad I had the chance to see them at a bonafide ska show surrounded by that ska energy... they did a great job at Home Grown, don't get me wrong, it just wasn't a ska show. ^^
I go out by myself with moderate frequency. This was the case all this weekend. It's not like I have no one to ask, but I just like adventures sometimes. Going out with people is a very safe thing. Safety is the hazard.
But the cool bit was running into some old friends from high school who are also ska aficionados. Sitting at the bar alone would have been just fine, but it's great to be at a show with fellow appreciators who will yell and clap in appreciation when the saxophone player mutes the low note with his knee, leaving himself to stand on one foot while blaring the sax.
Sunday, I went to a house show here in Newark, DE. This is a relatively new venue. The family just loves local music and having folks over and I'm not sure if this was the case, but it seems very much like the house was designed just for those two things. Runa is an awesome contemporary Celtic band. One of their members is genuinely Irish... :) His wife is American but she did a great job singing in Gaelic on many songs. They are just an incredibly enchanting and mesmerizing group. It was wonderful to see them in such an intimate setting - there were about 12 or 14 audience members, so I got to meet a lot of new folks and I got to chat with a good number of the band members. I had thought the guitarist was classically trained (got excited when he had to pause mid-set to file a broken nail), but it turns out he has just busked a lot. ^^ I have to admit a bit of guitar envy because his guitar sounded positively magical. He played a steel string like it was a classical. I have yet to figure out how one does that without destroying the nails. :( Shannon, the singer, told me a good deal of her story, how she was working and trying to make ends meet that way (in the "normal" way that so many people know), and that her husband (the guitarist) encouraged her to quit her job and see if they could make the band work. She commented that it's been three years and it seems like most small businesses need those three years to actually start taking off. They're now playing tons of festivals and it's really easy to see why... they are just a fabulous Celtic band and they have definitely come into their own.
And let me not forget to mention - the awesome drum battle! Bodhran versus the drum kit. (Well, it wasn't really a kit, but it was the best acoustic percussion setup I have ever seen, played by a great percussionist from Canada.) (Did I mention that the fiddle player was from Japan? None of them was from the same country. :)
Apart from being a tad jealous ;) it was a great weekend for music. Now that the summer's more or less over, it's time to burn more demos, cut more business cards, and renew myself musically.
And clean the house.
Camps are over. I prayed hard and I worked hard and it turned out beautifully. We had a pizza party on Friday, and there's a few of us who'll go in and deep-clean this week... but it's pretty much... done.
The monsoon cancelled our weekend programs, so I just got to sit around the house. It was a good thing... I was in a little physical pain and a little spiritual pain, neither of which I'd like to go into detail about on this here blog. Most of my weekend, therefore, was NOT dedicated to cleaning (so the house still looks like it's the last week of camp), but rather to sitting in my favorite recliner and busting out some Final Fantasy III.
Anyway, it was a good weekend, full of music and people. I had the chance to see a couple different shows... Bullbuckers played at Home Grown in Newark on Saturday night. Facebook informed me of it about 8 hours prior. I have my ups and my downs with social media, but that was a definite UP!
Bullbuckers is a local ska band - I saw them open for the Toasters here in Delaware a month or two ago. (Another one Facebook told me about.) I lost my favored FAWM hoodie there, but the bands did such a good job keepin' everyone skankin' all night that frankly, I just didn't care. Bullbuckers are a seven- or eight-piece band, and they rocked at Mojo 13 that night. I couldn't believe they were a local band - with a sound that polished, they had to be touring from somewhere. Anyway, I'm glad I had the chance to see them at a bonafide ska show surrounded by that ska energy... they did a great job at Home Grown, don't get me wrong, it just wasn't a ska show. ^^
I go out by myself with moderate frequency. This was the case all this weekend. It's not like I have no one to ask, but I just like adventures sometimes. Going out with people is a very safe thing. Safety is the hazard.
But the cool bit was running into some old friends from high school who are also ska aficionados. Sitting at the bar alone would have been just fine, but it's great to be at a show with fellow appreciators who will yell and clap in appreciation when the saxophone player mutes the low note with his knee, leaving himself to stand on one foot while blaring the sax.
Sunday, I went to a house show here in Newark, DE. This is a relatively new venue. The family just loves local music and having folks over and I'm not sure if this was the case, but it seems very much like the house was designed just for those two things. Runa is an awesome contemporary Celtic band. One of their members is genuinely Irish... :) His wife is American but she did a great job singing in Gaelic on many songs. They are just an incredibly enchanting and mesmerizing group. It was wonderful to see them in such an intimate setting - there were about 12 or 14 audience members, so I got to meet a lot of new folks and I got to chat with a good number of the band members. I had thought the guitarist was classically trained (got excited when he had to pause mid-set to file a broken nail), but it turns out he has just busked a lot. ^^ I have to admit a bit of guitar envy because his guitar sounded positively magical. He played a steel string like it was a classical. I have yet to figure out how one does that without destroying the nails. :( Shannon, the singer, told me a good deal of her story, how she was working and trying to make ends meet that way (in the "normal" way that so many people know), and that her husband (the guitarist) encouraged her to quit her job and see if they could make the band work. She commented that it's been three years and it seems like most small businesses need those three years to actually start taking off. They're now playing tons of festivals and it's really easy to see why... they are just a fabulous Celtic band and they have definitely come into their own.
And let me not forget to mention - the awesome drum battle! Bodhran versus the drum kit. (Well, it wasn't really a kit, but it was the best acoustic percussion setup I have ever seen, played by a great percussionist from Canada.) (Did I mention that the fiddle player was from Japan? None of them was from the same country. :)
Apart from being a tad jealous ;) it was a great weekend for music. Now that the summer's more or less over, it's time to burn more demos, cut more business cards, and renew myself musically.
And clean the house.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Jammin' at the dance
Of the past 24 hours, I have spent 6 dancing. That's a quarter of my whole day. My body's pleasantly tired and my heart's full of joy. There are probably better feelings than this, but I'd be hard-pressed to tell you where to find them.
The memory of my first contra dance is pretty hazy. It ought to have occurred somewhere in Greensboro, North Carolina, about 5 or 6 years ago, but it seems like it's always been a part of me. When asked to describe contra dance, I usually say, "it's a little like square dancing -- the moves, anyway, but it's done a lot like English country dancing -- like in Pride and Prejudice," which I reference though I don't think I've managed to sit through it yet.
However, this simplified description doesn't capture the essence of the dance; it tells you only about the dance itself. When I go to a contra dance... I go because I want to be surrounded by people who are full of joy, who are smiling at you and having a good time and are ever so pleased that you are dancing with them. It is a celebration of joy and other really simple, basic pleasures.
And it is a community, with lots of different roles filled by lots of different people by lots of different places. Organizers. Musicians. Dancers. Callers. Workshop leaders. The folks with the audio equipment who do the soundboard. They come from miles around... for most regular contra dancers, an hour or less of travel time is relatively close.
Contra dancing has never been anything other than an interest or a hobby for me, but I still consider it to be an area where I'm active musically -- even if it's just a jam session, like this one, after the Arden contra dance this evening. These folks are from the Baltimore Open Band and SPUDS from Philadelphia (collectively known as the Mason-Dixon Contra Dance Orchestra), as well as a few musically-inclined dancers (like myself).
Many contra tunes are known throughout the community of musicians -- certain tunes, standards, anyway. This makes it pretty easy to jam. Essentially we were just going around the circle and naming tunes we knew. The folks that knew them played along, the few folks that didn't would just listen, or try to play as best they could.
It's sort of funny because... I love it so much, but I haven't really actively tried to learn the music. Why not? Well, here's the notion... and it's completely stupid, but I know you will understand because you, too, have thought stupid things like this...
I think that it would be easy, so I've never tried.
I have to laugh at the audacity of that statement. How would I know it's easy if I've never tried it? That's pride, and I know it, and God knows it. He's like, "well, if it's so dang easy, why don't you do it? Go pick up the banjo, guitar, recorder, whatever, and go play the darn stuff. The sheet music's up on the Lancaster contra dance page, and you know it."
And I'm all, "WELL, MAYBE I WILL." And I haven't, yet... but I love finding out where I have pride and then trying to break it down. Learning the stuff would be a great way of doing just that. I have no intention of being a pretentious jerk, so while it's disappointing to uncover a piece of pretentious jerk in me, it's awesomely fun to destroy it.
There's no life where there's pride. There's life in the humble and the simple things, and that's where I'm tryin' to go.
The memory of my first contra dance is pretty hazy. It ought to have occurred somewhere in Greensboro, North Carolina, about 5 or 6 years ago, but it seems like it's always been a part of me. When asked to describe contra dance, I usually say, "it's a little like square dancing -- the moves, anyway, but it's done a lot like English country dancing -- like in Pride and Prejudice," which I reference though I don't think I've managed to sit through it yet.
However, this simplified description doesn't capture the essence of the dance; it tells you only about the dance itself. When I go to a contra dance... I go because I want to be surrounded by people who are full of joy, who are smiling at you and having a good time and are ever so pleased that you are dancing with them. It is a celebration of joy and other really simple, basic pleasures.
And it is a community, with lots of different roles filled by lots of different people by lots of different places. Organizers. Musicians. Dancers. Callers. Workshop leaders. The folks with the audio equipment who do the soundboard. They come from miles around... for most regular contra dancers, an hour or less of travel time is relatively close.
Contra dancing has never been anything other than an interest or a hobby for me, but I still consider it to be an area where I'm active musically -- even if it's just a jam session, like this one, after the Arden contra dance this evening. These folks are from the Baltimore Open Band and SPUDS from Philadelphia (collectively known as the Mason-Dixon Contra Dance Orchestra), as well as a few musically-inclined dancers (like myself).
Many contra tunes are known throughout the community of musicians -- certain tunes, standards, anyway. This makes it pretty easy to jam. Essentially we were just going around the circle and naming tunes we knew. The folks that knew them played along, the few folks that didn't would just listen, or try to play as best they could.
It's sort of funny because... I love it so much, but I haven't really actively tried to learn the music. Why not? Well, here's the notion... and it's completely stupid, but I know you will understand because you, too, have thought stupid things like this...
I think that it would be easy, so I've never tried.
I have to laugh at the audacity of that statement. How would I know it's easy if I've never tried it? That's pride, and I know it, and God knows it. He's like, "well, if it's so dang easy, why don't you do it? Go pick up the banjo, guitar, recorder, whatever, and go play the darn stuff. The sheet music's up on the Lancaster contra dance page, and you know it."
And I'm all, "WELL, MAYBE I WILL." And I haven't, yet... but I love finding out where I have pride and then trying to break it down. Learning the stuff would be a great way of doing just that. I have no intention of being a pretentious jerk, so while it's disappointing to uncover a piece of pretentious jerk in me, it's awesomely fun to destroy it.
There's no life where there's pride. There's life in the humble and the simple things, and that's where I'm tryin' to go.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Brute Honesty.
Brute honesty is a fine art. A fine art like smashing your mother's heirloom vase with a sledgehammer.
But seriously, it's important. I have a mentor who speaks into my life periodically and the thing I love about it is the sledgehammer of cold, hard truth. I tell her what I hope to accomplish. We plan, we reason out. And then she sledgehammers me when she talks to me a month later and I haven't really done anything.
We all need people with sledgehammers in our lives, but they also should be A) invited to do so and B) sensitive and sympathetic to the confusion of constructive deconstruction (that is to say, willing to help you pick up the pieces). Thank God that mine is.
Essentially, I grow a little (actually get students! play at a few places!), get complacent, convince myself that I'm tired and then stop. The tiredness is inevitable. The complacency is the problem. You can work through being tired if you are convinced that you must do something.
My stonewall always ends up being this notion that what I do as a musician is not important. It's rooted in one or two insensitive things that folks said to me a long time ago (and probably do not remember ever having said). But really, despite my confusion, despite not knowing why I do it -- music comes out of me. So lately, I just pray to be healed of that stuff. Life will go a lot smoother if a crazy music lady can just allow herself to believe that there is meaning in the crazy music she makes, though she may never know the full extent of that meaning.
And that's the truth. SLEDGEHAMMER'D
But seriously, it's important. I have a mentor who speaks into my life periodically and the thing I love about it is the sledgehammer of cold, hard truth. I tell her what I hope to accomplish. We plan, we reason out. And then she sledgehammers me when she talks to me a month later and I haven't really done anything.
We all need people with sledgehammers in our lives, but they also should be A) invited to do so and B) sensitive and sympathetic to the confusion of constructive deconstruction (that is to say, willing to help you pick up the pieces). Thank God that mine is.
Essentially, I grow a little (actually get students! play at a few places!), get complacent, convince myself that I'm tired and then stop. The tiredness is inevitable. The complacency is the problem. You can work through being tired if you are convinced that you must do something.
My stonewall always ends up being this notion that what I do as a musician is not important. It's rooted in one or two insensitive things that folks said to me a long time ago (and probably do not remember ever having said). But really, despite my confusion, despite not knowing why I do it -- music comes out of me. So lately, I just pray to be healed of that stuff. Life will go a lot smoother if a crazy music lady can just allow herself to believe that there is meaning in the crazy music she makes, though she may never know the full extent of that meaning.
And that's the truth. SLEDGEHAMMER'D
Friday, December 17, 2010
Choir director? Who, me?
I love my choir. It's great to bring people together to sing. But choir directorship is not something I ever would have imagined for myself.
From what I can recall, I hated my voice when I was a kid. The way it sounded was just really repulsive to me. I knew that I could carry a tune, but I believed that the quality of my voice was so terrible that I should do everyone a favor and just shut up.
So when I got to college, I wanted a music degree. Fine, they said. You'll have to join a large ensemble. And guess what? There's no large ensemble for classical guitar, so... you'll be in Women's Glee, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from noon to one.
Apparently, nobody had informed them of the horror that was my vocal quality. So I just bit my tongue, accepted my fate, and figured on lip syncing my way through four years of college.
Turns out you sing a lot, if you're a music student. Even outside of Women's Glee, there were ear training classes where you had to sing different musical intervals, eventually building up to sight-singing in solfege. (You know... Do, Re, Mi...)
Here's what I discovered:
It made me a little mad that I had been cheated out of such a great thing for so long. It made me mad that some people try to make singing something so lofty and inaccessible, try to tell others they can't sing when they clearly can. We're not all going to be on Broadway, but we can carry a tune and we don't sound half bad doing it, thankyouverymuch.
Enter my six years of directing small community choirs. Starting with my dorm and lately including the church choir. It's always been a mix -- some seasoned choir veterans, some people wanting to try for the first time. I've never auditioned anyone. I depend completely upon the goodwill and kindness of my singers to forgive each others' mistakes and help each other to create a beautiful performance.
So I'm really excited that we're coming up on a performance again for Christmas this year. They sound great, but their hearts are even better.
From what I can recall, I hated my voice when I was a kid. The way it sounded was just really repulsive to me. I knew that I could carry a tune, but I believed that the quality of my voice was so terrible that I should do everyone a favor and just shut up.
So when I got to college, I wanted a music degree. Fine, they said. You'll have to join a large ensemble. And guess what? There's no large ensemble for classical guitar, so... you'll be in Women's Glee, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from noon to one.
Apparently, nobody had informed them of the horror that was my vocal quality. So I just bit my tongue, accepted my fate, and figured on lip syncing my way through four years of college.
Turns out you sing a lot, if you're a music student. Even outside of Women's Glee, there were ear training classes where you had to sing different musical intervals, eventually building up to sight-singing in solfege. (You know... Do, Re, Mi...)
Here's what I discovered:
- Choir directors can be really nice, encouraging people (who sometimes devote Wednesdays to the color purple)
- People did not wince from what I envisioned was my harsh, grating tone
- You will be very popular in a choir if you have a good ear
- Singing is a fun, unifying experience that is just plain good for the soul
It made me a little mad that I had been cheated out of such a great thing for so long. It made me mad that some people try to make singing something so lofty and inaccessible, try to tell others they can't sing when they clearly can. We're not all going to be on Broadway, but we can carry a tune and we don't sound half bad doing it, thankyouverymuch.
Enter my six years of directing small community choirs. Starting with my dorm and lately including the church choir. It's always been a mix -- some seasoned choir veterans, some people wanting to try for the first time. I've never auditioned anyone. I depend completely upon the goodwill and kindness of my singers to forgive each others' mistakes and help each other to create a beautiful performance.
So I'm really excited that we're coming up on a performance again for Christmas this year. They sound great, but their hearts are even better.
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