workthemic.com

***I've discontinued using Blogger and moved everything over to workthemic.com.***
New posts come out once per week, usually on Fridays.

Monday, July 28, 2014

Your Mom Loves Your Music... Should You Give a Flying Crap?

Last week, we talked about getting feedback on your songs from a professional. Now, let's talk about getting feedback from "unprofessionals"... your family and friends.

There's an understandable tendency (particularly among younger/newer musicians) to want to go to those closest to you and ask them what they think of your music. I think that's a dangerous proposition, after all...

...WHAT THE HELL DOES YOUR MOM KNOW ABOUT MUSIC?

I don't know what music your parents listen to. Maybe they have great taste in music, or... maybe they're like many people over a certain age who get stuck in musical ruts and can't stand any of this "new-fangled dance shenanigans the kids are listening to these days." That kind of sentiment isn't limited to parents who grew up in a certain decade.

They all feel like that, no matter what their kids listen to. My grandmother was a rebel for listening to Swing. My parents were rebels for listening to Elvis. I was a rebel for listening to Nirvana. Parents these days are freaking out about Miley Cyrus or whoever. This dynamic isn't likely to change anytime soon. Don't believe me? Here's the science to prove it: How Our Taste in Music Changes Over a Lifetime

When I was starting out as a musician, my parents were listening to a classical music "best of" compilation albums, church hymns, and African children's choirs. So, their musical framework wasn't particularly helpful in guiding my attempts to merge the Gin Blossoms, Alison Krauss, and Ryan Adams. Their response to my music was, "why can't you sing about something happy?" ...even if the song was about something happy.

...GOOD TASTE DOESN'T EQUAL HELPFUL ADVICE

But hey, maybe the music gods bestowed you with cool parents (or brothers, sisters, friends, etc.) who listen to new stuff all the time. They know who's been rolled off the Disney, American Idol, Nashville, or X-Factor conveyor belt this week, or they listen to the "new" station on Pandora or Spotify. Maybe they keep a close eye on musical blogs and new release Tuesday.

Does that mean they can articulate differences in song structures? Can they express their feelings regarding a particular melodic choice, a mix, or an instrumental tone? Do they know what a rhythmic pocket is? ...How to chop frequencies to seat a voice in a crowded mix? ...About intros, outros, channels, and bridges?

I know lots of people who have GREAT taste in music. They put me to shame with their awareness of who's hot or a has-been, and can tell me who's going to explode this time next year. Some of these people are even hobbyist musicians. However, that doesn't mean they can articulate what they like or don't like, about what's working or isn't in a given song.

It's been my experience that they often interpret my songs in terms of what they know: "It sounds like ______ artist combined with ______ artist. I like it!" or "I don't know, I'm not feeling it... it's a little ...I don't know..." This kind of information is not particularly helpful.

On occasion, I've noticed that because these people have really strong preferences for what they like and don't like, they might (unknowingly) try to skew me in a strange direction. "Have you listened to ______ dance pop band? It might help you make your songs more dance-able." All fine and good... if you want to make dance songs. Not so much if you're an acoustic singer-songwriter.

...EMOTIONS CAN BLIND THE SMARTEST PEOPLE

Your cousin may be a plaid-shirted, bowtie-wearing ultra-hipster who has a diverse library of music, and is on top of every new release. They may be able to perfectly articulate their feelings on A A B C A structures as opposed to A B A B C B. However, they may look at you, their precious little cousin clutching her sweet little guitar, her puppy dog eyes as wide as they can be, head bursting with dreams of stardom, and they may not be able to find that delicate balance of objectivity and frankness. They may say, "hey that sounds really good" and send you on your way so they can protect their poor widdle cousin's feelings.

Or maybe your cousin is really good at giving concise, honest, informed, objective feedback. But maybe when they do, YOU remember how they used to throw rocks at your head when you were little, and you begin to let that experience color their advice. "I think you need to separate the chorus from the bridge," they tell you. "And try bringing the tempo down by 2 or 3 bpm to let the melody feel more natural." Great advice. But to you, these are just more rocks flying at your head. And the next thing you know, you're seeing red, and getting carted off to jail for assaulting your cousin with the shards of a shattered Takamine.

SO NOW WHAT?

If you want feedback on your songs, try to find someone who doesn't have a stake in your personal life. Like, seriously, none. They don't know you, they don't date your sister. They don't mow your lawn. Someone who has good taste. Someone who can be clear and honest, and won't protect your feelings. Someone who knows something about how to play and write music, not just listen to it. Someone who knows your style, and what you're going for. If at all possible, it would be nice if these people play or have played music for people, and people like it.

You're not the first musician in your genre... these people are out there. Look on forums, go to open mics, go to smaller shows and introduce yourself to the band, talk to your musician friends who might know people higher up the music food chain. When you take their advice, put it through your filter. Only you can decide if their advice is worth taking.

Stop and think before you play your songs for your family and friends.

DON'T FORGET THE BIG PICTURE

Each step of your musical career, no matter how insignificant, warrants thought and preparation. Stop and think before you play your songs for your family and friends. If and when they give you feedback, consider if you want to take it at face value.

Beyond that, think about ways you can get good, clean feedback from someone who knows what they're talking about. Plan your route, watch your steps, and keep an eye on your surroundings. It's a difficult balance, and there's plenty of musicians who can do one of those things, but not the others. The good ones do all three.

THE WORLD NEEDS YOU. I NEED YOU.

If you could take 5 seconds to share this article with other musicians and artists, I would appreciate it. Thank you for your time!

Monday, July 21, 2014

Feedback from the Pros Ain't Always Pro Feedback

I GET GIDDY

A few of the most exciting experiences I've had in my musical life involved getting my songs into the eyes and ears of some pretty famous musicians/industry people. When I say "exciting," I mean that these moments are the closest I've ever come to being downright giddy. Keep in mind that "giddy" is not a word that I, or anyone who knows me, would use to describe my highly-introverted personality, so understand that this giddiness is a big deal.

These were hands shaking, voice cracking, sweaty pits-type moments. I'm across from this person, this legend/hero, and they're about to tell me what they think about MY SONG. In each case, my thoughts were relentlessly going back and forth between "What if they like it?" and "Oh my god, what if they hate it?!" "But what if they LIKE it?"

These situations are distant relatives to those times when you play your song for a significant other, family member, or friend, except that instead of hearing "are these lyrics about ME?!" or "why can't you write something happy?" these famous people, no... these STARS, with their connections, knowledge, and experience could give you that one comment or criticism that changes EVERYTHING.

LET ME DOWN EASY... OR, YOU KNOW, DON'T

If you're a fan of sports metaphors, (and who isn't?!) then this is the turning point when the kid who's never played foosball in his life gets pulled into the game with 2 seconds on the clock to throw the grand slam that will determine if the team makes the semi-regional-quarterfinal-bowl. The crowd is hushed. The clock starts ticking. The kid takes a deep breath, and swings the ball, and against all odds SCORES the wicket or whatever, and then the crowd... quietly gathers their belongings and heads for the nearest exit at a reasonable and orderly pace.

There was no 'oh my god' eureka experience.

That's what it was like for me anyway. There was no "oh my god, this is pure gold!" eureka-type experience. Nor was there a "get out of here, kid, you're a hack" public shaming. In almost every case, it was more like a "yup." For example, the moment I was most excited about was when I got a response from a member of one of the bands that inspired me to become a musician. He had heard approximately ten demos of mine. His feedback? Something akin to:

"Good structure. Good songs."
"Anything we should change?" I asked.
"Nope. Good stuff."

That's it. Wait, seriously? That's it?! The hard work, time, money, and sacrifice of writing and re-writing 10 songs got me 4-5 non-committal words from a personal hero. Of course, that's just one experience, right? Nope. There were others. I hired a well-known and respected producer to work with another batch of songs. I paid him a lot of money. He heard 12 demos. His response? Pretty similar to the above. Actually, all four of the situations I have in mind went almost the exact same way. Coincidence? Not likely.

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE?

It's my theory that these responses are not the ones that these people WANTED to give, but rather the ones they have trained themselves to give after going through what must be hundreds of situations in which someone handed them a demo and asked if they would check it out. (For reference, see the interaction between Jonah Hill and Russell Brand in "Forgetting Sarah Marshall.")

In each case, the famous person must know that the demo-hander is hoping that any or all of their songs will cause the famous person to uncontrollably shout, "oh my god, we've discovered the next big thing" and then ask them to hop on back of their gold-plated rocket to fortune and fame.

Music is personal. You tie emotions into it, even if it's something you didn't write. I can't listen to a song from my high school days without cradling a yearbook and sobbing a river of tears onto the glossy pages filled with "have a nice summer" messages and awkwardly-posed photographs.

When someone writes a song, they might as well be pouring their soul onto a piece of paper. So, if someone tells a writer, "the chorus needs work" you're pretty much saying to that person "your soul is hollow, you should burn your guitar, and you have no reason for living."

I've been a feedback-giver in a few situations. Some people take your feedback with some wincing, others say "thanks" but ignore it altogether. Others get angry. Like seriously pissed. Others get hurt. Like, you might be surprised just how hurt.

I believe that true Pros have learned their lesson and walk the safe line of "not bad" because it saves them the pain and hassle of having to watch yet another aspiring musician angrily snatch their CD back, stomp off to the bathroom, and try to drown themselves in the sink.

SO WHAT

The moral of this story is, you have to decide whether you're going to let this feedback impact you, for better or worse. If someone tells you they hate your work, does that mean you should quit? If they tell you they love it, does that mean there's no room for improvement? If they are totally "meh" about your work, what does that mean for you?

It wouldn't hurt to prepare for these situations before they happen, as awkward as that might seem. Think through your response if the person trashes your work, or praises it, or if they say something like "not bad."

BE SOCIAL

I would really appreciate any tweet or shares. You could also sign up to get email updates when there's a new post. Don't worry, I won't send you constant annoying marketing messages. I hate that stuff.

Monday, July 14, 2014

Recording Your Shows Is a Bad Idea (Part II)

Let's continue our discussion about whether you should record your shows. You can catch up on the first part of the discussion here.

THE ONE GOOD PART

There IS an upside to recording live performances... it gives you a loose (and if you're recording with a phone, I do mean loose) idea of what everyone in the band is playing, and allows you to make decisions about structure, parts, arrangements, and mixing.

If that's what you're going for, it might be better to capture a rehearsal, where you're not competing with crowd noise, and you're not obsessing over cringe moments like when you said something really embarrassing from the stage or when the vocalist went flat on the chorus of your best song. Your negative feelings about those moments could color your opinion of the rest of the recording. However, if you hear those moments in a rehearsal recording, you'll be much better off because you can just say, "thank god no one heard that."

That brings me to what I view as the most important consideration about recording live performances: we humans are subjective, emotional beings, and we have poor memory-recall abilities. In some cases, that's a good thing.

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF MUSICAL FAILURE

Let's say you have a terrible show. Everybody's got 'em, so don't feel too lousy about it (unless you've been having terrible shows for 11 years... then you may want to reevaluate some things). Maybe your drummer drank too much and dropped the beat a couple times. The singer couldn't hear herself in the monitor, so her pitch was all over the place. The sound guy was watching a ball game on his phone instead of paying attention to the mix. (All of these things will happen to you if they haven't already. God knows they've happened to me too many times.)

Now, if you didn't record that trainwreck of a show, your imperfect memory will gradually gloss over all the bad stuff, and you'll eventually come to a place where it doesn't bother you that basically shamed yourself in front of a bunch of friends, fans, or coworkers. You'll probably even laugh about it, if you remember it at all. Without that crippling shame of failure, you'll just go about your musical career, happy as you please.

"If you record a bad show, you have a permanent reminder of just how sh%&ty you really were...

Not the best thing to have if you want to convince yourself to get on stage again."

HOWEVER, if you did record the show, you now have a great and semi-permanent reminder of just how shitty you really were, and if you're anything like a lot of us self-conscious musicians, you'll put that thing on repeat and beat yourself up for years to come. Maybe not the best thing to do if you ever want to work up the courage to get back up on stage again.

This is especially true if you're just starting out, because there's going to be some crappy shows... maybe even a lot of them... and it takes a certain amount of self-deception to keep plugging away and getting better. Having a hard copy of your failure is going to make that all the more difficult.

MR. FREEZE

Another thing a lot of people don't think about is the observer principle as it relates to your recording. There's some sort of crazy brain magic that causes many people to just freeze or panic when they see a camera. If you know that your performance could be posted on YouTube for millions of people to watch you miserably and utterly fail, you might start to notice your voice tightening up, or your guitar player sweating abnormally, or that suddenly the band is plowing through the stops in every song, or playing in double time.

DON'T WORRY, IT'S ONLY BECAUSE YOU SUCK

Some people might argue that if you don't want to record your show, it's because you're not "pro" enough, and if you were legitimately talented, you'd be okay with any show you play representing you as a performer.

Bullshit. If you pay attention to your favorite band's live album, you will most likely hear them fading in the beginnings or fading out the endings on certain tracks. In some cases, this is because they are cutting out breaks or banter, or sound problems, but in a lot of cases, it's because they're patching together 2 or 3 performances, or even an entire tour into one good show. Nobody's perfect all the time.

IT'S YOUR FUNERAL

Recording shows is your decision, but hopefully I've given you some things to think about. And if you ARE going to do it, do it right, something we'll talk about in a separate post.

(If you like what you've read, please share or quote freely. I appreciate your support.)

Monday, July 7, 2014

Recording Your Shows is a Bad Idea (Part I)

I'M A JERK

I am an absolute tyrant about the fact that I do not want anyone recording my band's live shows. Friends and fans will tell you that I have asked them to take cameras off of their tripods, or delete recordings from their smartphones and social media pages.

Am I jerk? Am I killing my chance for free promotion? Am I alienating friends and fans? Probably. But I've got my reasons. Many musicians rush straight into recording their performances only minutes after they've learned their first chord. It's a natural inclination to want to hear how you sound. However, I believe there are some compelling reasons to leave the camera at home.

RECORDING QUALITY

There's this idea that a recording, regardless of the equipment, the technique used, or the skill of the person doing the recording, is an objective version of what you actually sound like. That's a nice idea, unfortunately, it is total bullshit. Let me tell you why:

MUSIC IS MORE THAN SOUND

Let's compare sound to color, since we can't see sound. When you're listening to music in a live setting, you are absorbing a wide prism of "colors," whether you're listening to a solo instrument, or a full band. The primary color of an upright bass is beautiful on its own, but mixed with another primary - maybe a tight kick drum - you now "see" an equally pleasing secondary color. (This all assumes that the band and sound guy know what they're doing, but let's just put that aside for now.)

"A smartphone can't capture the warm fuzzies of a great performance."

The colors these instruments produce are reflected off of the walls, the ceiling, the floor, absorbed by the bodies of the audience, altered by the shape of the stage, and filtered through your highly subjective emotional and mental state. Your feelings about the music and the experience are affected by the energy of the crowd, and the charisma of the band.

A smartphone will funnel that wealth of information through a mic the size of a pin, and produce a tinny, compressed, clipped xerox copy. It cannot capture the warm fuzzies of a great performance. It would be like watching your favorite movie, but you're only able to see one color... Godfather in Blue. Who wants that?

(DON'T) BRING THE NOISE

The other thing to take into account is that if you're recording in a crowd, the people around you are much closer to the mic, so their conversations and screams, the sounds of them moshing, or the sounds of them talking smack on the band, are going to compete with the sounds coming from the stage.

You'll also be introducing the handling noise from the recordist fumbling around with the device, something that drives me absolutely nuts. If you set the recording device on a table or chair, you could also be introducing a whole new form of unpleasantness as the sound bounces off of the surface and into the mic.

PUT YOUR MUSIC IN THE RIGHT HANDS

If you really do want to record your show, there's a gigantic difference between trusting an experienced sound tech who's familiar with your type of music, and is using a 32-channel digital rig with high end mics and preamps, as opposed to using a camcorder held by your best friend. And, if you've got a soundguy who REALLY knows what they're doing, they'll probably have the ability to throw the tracks they capture into a sound editor (like ProTools or Reaper) and work some magic on what they recorded. Generally speaking, that's the kind of thing you're used to hearing on live albums. It's a lot of work, and a lot of expensive gear. Can your little camera compete with that?

There's some additional thoughts to consider, but due to time constraints, we'll have to save that for next week.

(If you like what you've read, please share or quote freely. I appreciate your support.)