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Thursday, May 3rd, 2001
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12:54p - Old backlogged entries
Right: I've just gone through the time-consuming but gratifyingly ingenious task of retrieving all the old backlogged entries from my brief-lived journal on www.litweb.com. That site is a bloody joke; apparently, it was never Y2K compliant, and backlogged my entries (and, I presume, the entries of anyone who came aboard post-new millenium and wrote a sufficient amount to warrant it) in a cache for November, 1910, with no direct links to said cache. In effect, once you reached a certain volume, it just took the lot of it and cast it out into the ethers, sans lifeline. But after some sleuthwork, I was able to deduce the proper path to the mystery URL wherein lay my old entries. They are rescued, and I place them here. (Postscript: I've just gone back and cleaned this up a bit. There are six old entries, which run in chronological order from this point - the oldest at the top, and the last entry from the old journal at the bottom. From there, the normal sequence of entries on Livejournal commences.)
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DATE: 19 Apr 2001 14:13
By virtue of having not yet built my new journal, and by (for the moment) being in a rather dull job that requires me to be on the computer continuously, I've decided to give the online journaling bit a whirl. At some point I may excerpt the lot of this and transplant it into a proper web log, once the site B. & B. & myself have been discussing actually comes into fruition. In the meantime - and this is the one time I intend to address you, the reader, so take notice - let me say that I think it rather bizarre, the idea of anyone else reading this. It isn't at all that I'm overly private, paranoid, or harbouring repressive tendencies; my songs, my compositions, my poetry, plays, or paintings, any other random manifestations of art - those are intended for an audience, to be shared. This - this is a monologue; thoughts, musings, happenstance, notes-to-self, that sort of thing. I don't anticipate prowling about through anyone else's notes, but I have no reservations, really, about anyone else being in here, though as I mentioned I do find it funny. I suppose I must be a bit of an exhibitionist, and when I lapse into a rant regarding the ideal artisitic / collabourative / musical endevour or situation, that it's another way of putting out to the universe, "Let's have some more of THIS in my life, eh?". Or, that someone reading this may think to themselves, "This person here, now they've got the right idea about this-" and be inspired to start a band with me, or produce my album, or swap notes on wortcraft or variations on the recipes for absinthe (why the hell would some of the commercially-available Spanish absinthe be RED, for example?), or simply begin to regularly send me large sums of money.
These entries are likely to be fairly short, but frequent, if I'm to be at this job, always online, and with few duties and a fair bit of reasonably free time.
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DATE: 19 Apr 2001 16:42
"...So much of you is so far from here..." - that from a song by Mojave 3. I can relate, as I feel myself distancing myself from this tedium, far more interested in the shifting time signatures in the song I'm listening to (three of three followed by one of two) than in any idea of "work" at this place. Had a long talk with Leah, last night. We commisserated re. money and dissatisfaction with the whole schema of "jobs", in general, and how, of course, we'd so much rather be doing art full time, and filling our days with something of genuine interest and of genuine value. For me, I feel myself placing more and more importance on TIME, on freedom within that time, as opposed to obligation. I have utterly no vested interest in this company. I doesn't mean anything to me, and I work solely for the money, and if I had a better way to get it, well, I wouldn't work here any longer. I'd write. I'd compose music and write songs and collaborate with like-minded folks. I'd paint. I'd study things that intrigued me. I'd grow my herbs. I'd relish the simple freedom of not being beholden or under constraint or obligation. I could accomplish a lot of this by simply opening my own business, whether in graphics design, sound design, massage therapy, or returning to school for some advanced holistic study. Or I could luck into some environmentally-focused endevour promoting sustainability. To varying extents, I want all of these things in my life in some form and on some scale. But mostly, I want the music. I want a band, a group of collabourators. It's been seven months since my last serious project broke apart, and I've neither found anything as good to involve myself with, or fully let go of the frustration and angst from it having disbanded. We were really beginning something that could've been fantastic - I've never experienced that same level of ongoing collabourative cohesion, of unified creation. And, what we were coming up with was genuinely GOOD. We could've done so much more - we were, after all, just getting started. It's hard to let go of that; I don't think I could successfully work with anyone I was in that band with on any future long-term, large-scale endevour. As a project, as a contributor, sure; but I want something more stable and enduring that provides an outlet for true artistic collabouration, because that's one of the aspects of music (of any act of artifice, really, whatever creative outlet your muse may lead you to) that's most exciting to me, one that provides the most opportunity for growth, for one's own artistic development. It gives you the bare bones of structure, exposure to other perspectives and other input, and combines the resources of the collective for one of those delightful paradoxes - a whole greater than the sum of its parts.
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DATE: 19 Apr 2001 17:03
Frank (a co-worker) is one of those people who totally tunes you out / ignores you when you're speaking, or either legitimately and absolutely in truth phases himself out and genuinely isn't aware of being spoken to. That's a huge pet peeve of mine, and makes it difficult to interact with him. I don't understand that basic fundamental lack of perception or social skills; whichever one it is, it embarrasses me for him. It's even more difficult to understand b/c I generally don't initiate conversation or dialogue with him, (as I find it frustrating and annoying, and of no real value or interest, so I don't bother) and all of this comes out of him asking me a question and ignoring the answer, or beginning a train of thought from out of nowhere with nothing but pronouns and indefinites, so that I have no idea what he's referring to, and then tuning out for my string of "What?", "What ________?" ,"What are you talking about, Frank?", "I don't know what you're referring to." My response is becoming to totally and deliberately ignore him, and drive him to repeat himself several times as a way of ascertaining what's important and what isn't, and when I have his attentions and when I don't. How bizarre, that he's prompting in me the very behaviour that in him I abhorr, yet springing from an entirely differing motivation.
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DATE: 20 Apr 2001 15:14
I started writing something earlier, and then lost it all when someone came to install some redundant software on this computer and rebooted it without a save. Most of what I was beginning to get into was (as per usual) in regards to thoughts on music; specifically, this time, on the idea of a collective, which I find arising in various forms in different areas of my life of late. Last week L. and I had a long talk, and touched on the idea of communes, of living communally. I was reminded of a similar discussion with Cris, on our epic drive south a few years back. Libbie and I touched on that principle in one of our talks concerning sustainability when we were in Portugal this past January. And, I'm noticing a fair bit of that in and among some of the bands I appreciate. Phil was telling me some months back about a collective of musicians who started their own independent label solely to release works from their own coterie, in various combinations of members in different bands or ensembles, or as solo projects. I promptly forgot the names of the label, the collective, or any artists / ensembles involved, however.
{Note: That site is www.musicfellowship.com. Thanks, Phil!}
Other examples of this same idea I can see in This Mortal Coil, the conglomerate assembled out of various groupings of musicians on the 4AD label...Stereolab, one of my favourite bands, who in addition to solidly being their own band and their own entity, also have a habit of taking other bands or artsits under their wing, and though not really a collective in that sense, but more of a sponsoring entity, still employ that same perspective of collabourative outreach; they've done this with All Natural Lemon and Lime Flavors, Sonic Boom (formerly of Spacemen 3), and Ui (forming Uilab to release an album collectively, just as Bedhead and Macha teamed up for a joint release). There's also Current 93, and their consistent overlapping with Nurse With Wound (and, I suppose, sharing a member with Strawberry Switchblade). In the hip-hop world, the Wu-Tang Clan is a perfect example of this same concept: a group effort of 9 MCs, they formed for the express intent of subverting the record industry and establishing along with their collective presence as Wu-Tang, a nonet of solo artists, and collabourative works with sundry other MCs, DJs, producers, singers and instrumentalists. And it worked, and worked well. And obviously, there's also the countless number of bands where one or more members will occasionally take a leave to persue solo work (or work in other bands / ensembles) separate from their identity in the group, or as a part of another group, whether in congruent or radically different styles. The number here is too numerous by far to recount - and this seems somewhat different from a true collective in my mind, although I can't fully say why. That's something to think about. Perhaps it's simple syllogism: in one case, the core is the collective, for the sake of continued collabouration and shared creative resources, but with individual creative freedom maintained and exercised; in the other, the identity of "the solo artist" is more central or vital than the role of the collective. The trick is to strike a balance, one where the resources of the whole and the freedom of the individual are each preserved, and where everyone benefits. The other trick is to maintain this balance without ego getting in the way. Ego, to me, serves no purpose in that sense, and has no place in music. Discernment, high standards, yes; certainly. These are of value. Ego is too often based in insecurity and / or "issues" in dealing with other people.
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DATE: 27 Apr 2001 12:54
Right: there will definitely be at least one more entry today, and a longer one. This is short, as I'm knee-deep in my inevitable and beloved tendency to involve myself in 5 - 7 things at once. I'm going to mention only a small slew of relative things here: first, in talking with Phil, he referred me to his own music journal, which is good, and which also has links to another called Josh Blog, which is also good, and a journal / news posting / gulag conglomerate by a person under moniker of DJ Martian, which I haven't spent over-much time with yet, but which seems good on first glance. This is an excerpt from the Josh Blog site. It's funny. I consider doing this myself:
1:43 AM
Often when I'm walking around wearing my headphones, I see other people also wearing headphones, and of course I wonder what they're listening to. Today I had a very strong urge to start a new project, or maybe not even anything that well defined - just, to start behaving in a different way. I would like to walk up to all these strangers and offer to switch headphone jacks for a minute or two, the idea being that each of us would suddenly know a lot more about the other past what they look like, which is all you can really know about a stranger when you meet them (aside from maybe cues you get about where you see them at, and inferences based on how they're dressed, etc., but those are only generalizations at best, and stereotypes at worst).
The downsides are legion, of course. First of all, I'm just not inclined to talk to strangers in the first place. Having something like this where it's a weird kind of talking to strangers makes it even more difficult. There is a very real possibility of coming off as deranged, after all.
Also - this may sort of uncomfortably foreground critical reactions to music. If someone walks up to you out of the blue and asks to listen to your music, aren't you going to want to know what they think, even just briefly? I don't think I'd be especially bothered by anything anyone would think about whatever they heard playing on my CD player, but I shouldn't assume that all music listeners are like me. What happens when I get an anti-rap person who is assaulted by "Bombs Over Baghdad" at volume 10?
Still, it's something to think about. I'm not sure if I will follow through with my urge or not. If I do, it must of course be done relentlessly.</b>
More later.
Today's At-Work Choices: A mix CD I just made for Ben. The Serpent's Egg. The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars.
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DATE: 27 Apr 2001 17:27
One thing I'm going to do: make a list of really great moments in music that I've experienced or been witness to. Several come imediately to mind. It makes me think of something out of High Fidelity, which is a movie I liked, although a part of that is certainly because it was a movie about, partially for, and potentially by, music people. I want to read the book it was adapted from, too...the original setting of London as opposed to Chicago is bound to read differently. Doing this would be a good exercise. That brings me around to another point: I like exercises. I don't like that I like them, but that's the way it is. I understand their usefulness. Often, a formalised exercise helps me to crack a block of some kind, and often affords a new way to see something. It's a way of playing with the process of creation - if one lets it serve that purpose. Another example: a lot of modern composers who use Finale or similar programs to score their music, either on the fly or by means of the scrivner approach, employ the cut & paste technique of lifting several measures of music and inserting them into a different point in the composition. I can appreciate that. It's the same sort of concept as in recording, when a mistake, or an incidental, can sometimes be noticed and played up in the mix to great effect. I'll attest to all of the above from experience. I can think of another particularly helpful exercise, though I wasn't aware of it at the time: I was, some years back, even MORE hypercritical of my own writing and composing than I am now, and regrettably during that time I threw away a lot of material which I could've done something with now. I had a real block around lyrics for songs I was writing, in particular. And one thing that really helped to lift me out of that self-damning phase was to go into the studio with Phil and make a rap song. Two things about that: first, even though it was a first effort, and we were two whiteys who admittedly didn't know as much about rap (the history, methodology, the deliverance, even) as about a lot of other music - we practiced several flows over the track before we actually recorded the raps - the finished product was surprisingly credible; even now, listening to it as objectively as I can, I like it. Second, it was rap, and in entering into a style I knew comparatively litle about, and doing it in a more or less deliberately goofy, off-the-cuff, laid-back kind of way, I was able to come at it without my defenses up, without being as critical or judgemental. It didnt have to be sublime - it was fun. It didn't have to be profound - it was social.
I bring this up because over the last several months, I've written something like seven songs straight now where the music is complete and finished as like I want it, and I don't have the words. And, I've written a few where the words are to that same point, but although I can hear music to set them to, it's nothing solid, or it isn't fully Right. That's weird for me; normally, they happen at the same time for me, the lyrics and the music really building off one another. I need to work with this, play with this. There's something to be done with it.
Another point Phil made in an entry - something to the effect of that when a band splits / diverges into solo albums (and, I would add, side projects / splinter groups), the results are rarely as satisfying, whether or not you (as the listener) are expecting the same music. I find that to be true. Another thing that seems related to me: when the focus of a band is several different songwriters writing their own material and alternately using the rest of the band as back-up or as session musicians (and even more noticeably when a band has initially been more of the collabourative, holistic bent), the music is seldom as good. Examples I can think of immediately: Spacemen 3. Mercury Rev (this one is arguable either way). Sebadoh, first with Lou and Eric, then with Lou and Jason. They Might Be Giants. Pixies, although they just broke up before too much of it got to happen. Here's another bold statement: in my opinion, there are enough exceptions to this theory present in jazz, that as a music I will exempt it from that entire clause. You can certainly find examples where a group split apart into factions or solo artists that weren't as interesting, but this is more infrequent as less relevant. There.
Aaahhhh...time to leave this place. This weekend is a mini-vacation, although I'm not leaving the state. More when I return, and more specifics, in specific.
current music: The Fixx: "Red Skies" (2 louches | share your thoughts)
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3:38p - a dream
I'm remembering a dream I had as I woke this morning: I was in the backseat of a car, next to my sifu. In the front seat were an unknown driver, and a woman in the passenger seat whom I also did not recognize. We were driving on a dirt road to some remote cabin in the woods which I either owned or had access to. My sifu was flirting with the woman, whom he had just met and seemingly really hit it off with, and in between bits of conversation with her, he quietly spoke with me about the importance, the beauty, the urgency, of novelty in one's life, about trying new things and having diverse experiences. He spoke with a sort of reverence for the matter. He spoke like a poem of Rumi.
The lists I said were coming are still coming.
current music: Low: The Curtain Hits the Cast (share your thoughts)
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