Yesterday evening, in expressing that I felt that these posts were not as engaging as the MTAE ones were, I said to my techy-helper person: "Can you look up the numbers?"; meaning how frequently my newer posts were being viewed. I share this because a) these take time to write that I don't have (aren't we all busy these days?), and b) I'm not one to share if no one's listening.
'Is there anyone out there…?'
So if you are reading this, thank you; because the numbers as such proved me wrong. And although some media have wondered why I'd bother being so open about what is always an insecure process, I've said it was because of the compliments I've received; that in essence, there was something to learn in the sharing that had inspired other artists, and that these days, for SP World, transparency is best.
RTB (Roy Thomas Baker) called the little licks and melodies and drum hits between vocals 'motifs', and since The Shredder and I hooked up my Music Machine Synth we are motif-rich; or motif-laden even. And by stealing an unused riff from Monday's session I built a whole other song yesterday. A song worth liking.
Of course I ask myself what the difference is: between a song written at a piano, and a song I make on the fly against an attractive, pulsating landscape. Hard to define, but I'd offer that when something feels good, it is good; and pretty chords are easy to come by but don't always *translate up* to rock and roll.
Excitement is best, I mean.
It's the way I/we/they made GISH and so on, taking flyers on these snapshots of electricity. Some ideas endure, some wither away. That's the madness.
No one asked me for a title on Tuesday's tune, so there isn't one. For now we'll call it ORUM 2. Today's work is to tackle SOLARA, once and for all; strumming downward on the mystical, pyramidic D.
So for your sake, this shall be brief. No huffing-poofing about lost dreams. And with much credit given to the guidance of The Shredder, who has a way of seeing us out of these self-constructed forests.
Imagine us hence: sitting, talking about music. And talking, talking, mostly conceptually about others music. Say for example why something worked in a given year that wouldn't work today, and vice versa. Interesting stuff for intellectuals, and probably much more interesting than what I write here. But much of it would generate those headlines I've grown to loathe (like: Corgan blasts other rock star, says he's a better gardener…)
Pert near every afternoon we were having these chats, residues I guess of the Howard/Pop conversations. "What does pop mean?" he'd ask me, and get an earful.
After a week, or was it two (?), both Jeff and I had grown tired of this circle we'd be in from the last. A revolt was coming, but to what end?
"What would you rather be doing?" he wondered. I said playing with my modular synth. He said playing the guitar. "Then why don't we just hook all that stuff up and play, like we did when we were rehearsing WORLD'S FAIR for Ravinia?"
And let me tell you, once we got going around 2 yesterday, we couldn't *stop playing for about 6 hours. Idea after idea morphing out until we had a veritable box of 'em to consider; albeit off a general thematic thread I'm considering as a progenitor for what might be a concept album. Something that, unlike OCEANIA, would be made ready to play live from the start; with a binding narrative to unify its staged use. We'll call the theme ORUM for now.
"You guys seem happy," said an engineer in observation.
From Lionel comes this 'ol guitar (a Martin classical), one that I had in my possession from approximately 1998 until just a few years back, and is most notably known for being the lead instrument on ADORE'S 'TO SHEILA.' But what I didn't advertise (I should have) when selling it is that after the band relocated to LA (after ignominious beginnings in Chi-town), this was one of only 2 guitars I'd grab mornings to write and/or work on new songs. Now, I can't attest to what may have been penned here, but at least I can look and say that through this instrument flowed some of the lifeblood of that album; which is no mean feat in itself. For particular instruments shape the soul and body of an album, and why that *is I can't say other than I know the effect on me.
As a compatriot though I found this 1947-made lieutenant slightly lacking; as I'd struggle to keep it in tune, and post that album found little use for the nylon thud that is its strum. So yeah, there it sat, tucked away for a decade plus, essentiality unused until I figured it belonged in someone's hands who might appreciate it more than I; and perhaps I should have used it more, given what followed.
Or like they say: 'If you find a good woman, keep her…'