Unitarians take the summer off for church. Then members of the community get together in a lay-led service to tackle the question of, say, why we don't go to normal church in the summer. I do think it's a wonderful thing, though. The crowd tends to be older folk, in crowds from 3 to 20 median 10, people who have known each other for many years. The ministry is very intimate, and very dear, and I think people also get a thrill from getting to forge together readings and musings and...music. That's where I come in. Every Saturday night I sit down at a keyboard in the kitchen (with parents long asleep), and bang out the two hymns I've been asked to perform the night of. It's slightly irresponsible, yes; but I CAN do it if I'm in the right place. More to the point, sometimes I only get those hymns Friday or Saturday. And I inevitably work both days.

Sometimes I'll begin the work by doing a harmonic analysis of the thing. That's fun to do on the train, and gives me the opportunity to flub the inner two voices while hanging on to the bass and melody. Unitarians are notoriously bad singers, so not only do the same hymns we know get repeated time and time again, but as long as you have the melody and basic predominant-dominant-tonic structure, you'll be fine.

For practicing: I go by systems, maybe half systems. Start with hands alone briefly (maybe 5 minutes total) and move on to half or quarter systems or pushing them together. It's a kind of memorization for me, a convincing of each finger that the next motion on the page is the only possible following motion. Playing the right sequence, then, just feels like home, stability, and complicity. And move along, practicing my half or quarter systems plus a chord or two of the next, so when I later graft them all together it feels more natural. A common pitfall is to make the chunk too long, or keep playing a part I know well; good practicing means constantly challenging my comfort with the piece. I can't even think of halting until l I can play it through a few times in a row perfectly. And then I let it sit in my head for a bit while I begin the other hymn.

Returning to the first (and later the second) him, I do run throughs and take care of problem spots, often in quarter-system chunks. I try also to play it through as if performing (i.e. through each of the voices); it's then a matter of hanging onto your continuity, keeping your mind from wandering, and relaxing into the soft crevasses of a piece. 

By this point I conk out and wake up, and do a remedial practice. At a certain point there's only so much work I can do. I play without looking at my hands, and the key size and action on the sanctuary's grand is much different than my upright's. I try to arrive around 9:30, make pleasantries, and bang things out.

In addition to the two hymns I'm asked to play a prelude, offeratory, and postlude. These are very short, and end up being snippets of pop songs, or most often sections of things I've already written. I sometimes debut things there, taking the postlude to perform something for longer. If I'm working on a classical piece I'll play a section, but that's always less fun than getting comments on that "interesting thing you just played." And the hymns? They'll fly or they won't, and if the sextant's there he'll probably get very critical, and he can go away.

Pit falls: twice I have had even a small amount of alcohol before attempting this. Both times have been terrrrrrible.

I Made A Demo

This was for my senior project, a 5-week endeavor marked mostly by the transition from classes to no classes, grades to no grades, work to a nearly guaranteed pass, and lots and lots of time we still had to spend going back to school to do fucking...whatever. So the work, while meant and conceived and lengthwise an album, is more of a fuckoff demo, with a bit of good shit goin' on. Part of me wants to do it again, but it's a stab, an attempt, with a few good things that I want to take elsewhere. But yeah, Owen Pallett covers only sound good live, Woody Guthrie America covers cannot be done under stress, and you need to plan your shit for 7 minute songs. Tracklisting, with my favorites bolded. Enjoy "Stabs." Heavy critique appreciated.

1) "Prelude (to Shitty Days)" by Alyssa
2) "He Poos Clouds" by Owen Pallett, arr. Matt Winkworth
3) "Martha My Dear" by Lennon/McCartney, arr. Alyssa
4) "Woody Guthrie's America" by Akron/Family, arr. Alyssa
5) "Accidents" by Arcade Fire, arr. Alyssa (better version here)

6) "Shampoo, Fresh Laundry, and Sweat (for Blu)" by Alyssa
7) "The Fragrance of Dark Coffee" by Noriyuki Iwadare, arr. Alyssa, feat. Bekah, Jack, and Mia
8) "Like Someone in Love" by Van Heusen, inspired by Bjork and Jerry Englebach, feat. LEFCS
9) "This Lamb Sells Condos" by Owen Pallett, arr. Owen Pallett
10) "The Tyrrany of Lists" by Alyssa
11) "We All Have to Save a Little Love For Ourselves (for Kevin)" by Alyssa

Link

Some Things I'd Like to Try

Infinite Jam. An idea I had for a while. Get a space with a crapload of different instruments and tech, and have there be music constantly, all the time. Songs and jams spinning around a wildly varying roster. I'd imagine it'd require a group of 20 musicians subbing in and out, and needs money for rent and food for the performers. Rules: instruments must be playing at all times, although stop-time is fine in context; the constant repetition of a certain figure might help the band talk about the music while it goes on, but that shouldn't go on for too long; always 2 people at the setup at any given time. I just read an article about Victor Wooden's style of learning, and this seems like an embodiment of that: practice feeling, not strictly playing something sensible. Practice trusting and evolving with people. Moreover I like the feeling of gathering a bunch of people together in an insane and taxing project as this, and turning it into pure communication, or telepathy across sounds.

Word Album. Oh, I know it's been done, to make symphonies or sounds out of words spelled with the musical alphabet. Even when those words are shaped into poetry. But the concept still fascinates me, as just another screen through which creativity is distilled. I think it'd be best if the album wasn't explicitly said to have this characteristic, because it's not meant to be a gimmick that gets it published. It's just a method to experiment with.

A Pop Drummer's Companion to John Zorn's 'The Book of Heads'. I don't know a lot about the record, but John Zorn released this crazy album for a solo guitar with all sorts of effects and gimmicks across 35 etudes. Listening to it felt like a view askance at the history of pop and guitar music, trying to filter through its traditions with free improv and a touch of humor. Because of its commentary and the yawningly open use of space, it would be interesting to score a companion to it for rock drum kit, matching the guitar's free improv with snippets and stabs at grooves.

Live Performing. I'd love to try playing at venues, seriously. I can certainly play discrete songs, but my favorite thing to do for people is to string a lot of songs together in some sort of epic soundtrack art-rock thing, and end violently. A lot of the songs I'd like to cover (below) have those capabilities. Other ideas I've had included playing piano with a bass drum and hihat at my feet, or to try looped clarinet (Accidents and Halfway Up The Stairs of Mucus would really lend to that).

[Solo Piano] Gloomy Sunday by Rezső Seress, also known as the Hungarian Suicide Song (bullshit publicity ploy...). It was hard to find the sheet music until I searched the name in Hungarian and got a pretty hi-def scan of it (to be given to whomever wants it). I got into this through the Venetian Snares adaptation of the Billie Holiday cover, both of which are beautiful. It's haunting music, I'd like to play with the score a bit.

[Snippet] Take a Bow by Muse is something I've played with as an exercise. The chords could be good for something.

[Snippet] Hey Dad by Owen Pallett. Aarrrgggh, love those chords so much.

[Solo Piano] Flare Gun by Owen Pallett, arr. Matt Winkworth for Piano and voice. Matt over at the fanforums made this arrangement, which is really just an adaptation, since the things is goddamn impossible, but quite impressive. If I'm ever good enough to handle the jumps, it could be a powerhouse.

[Solo Piano] The Miner Becomes Forgetful by Owen Pallett. There's a bit of a piano score adaptation from the fan forums, but I really want to see if I can turn a solo piano piece out of it. The hardest part will be arranging the violin line in the chorus to intersect and move past the rhythm part...and those damn chords at the end.

[Solo Piano] Bucky Little Wing by Islands is my favorite party cover. Rollicking and simple. The version I play is slightly adapted to add some depth to the sound, filled on record by doowops and rain sounds. In some ways, not worth the time, but so much fun.

[Solo Piano] Sulk by Radiohead. I use this in worships a lot, my adaptation has morphing arpeggios in the left hand and octaves, occasionally spiked with a third or a sixth to deepen the sound. I could never fold in the chorus part, though, and so what I play now is usually just a vamp. I'd like to change that.

[Solo Piano] Paranoid Android by Radiohead is something I often segue into from another song I do, an original. I only ever do the middle section, never a verse or the descending bridge, but the bridge especially should turn into an arrangement.

[Solo Piano / Ensemble] Vito's Ordination Song by Sufjan Stevens. This song gets me on the simplicity of the chord structure, the genius of the parallel-fifths-unresolved-leading-tone-horn-line, and the parallel sixths of the vocal harmony ("rest in my arms"). I use both of these things for worship preludes, but I'd love to turn it into an actual arrangement.

[Solo Piano (2 clarinets?)] Flint by Sufjan Stevens fits into all the other cyclic Gm stuff that I do, and adds a really wonderful melody. Great for segues.

[Ensemble (bass, 2 clarinet, drums, voice)] Winter is Coming by Radicalface. I tried covering this for my senior project, but the result, for two clarinets, drums, voice, and bass, was just awful awful awful. Out of tune and without point or depth. I want to try a song with a melodic bass guitar pattern, but it requires a good amount of thought to balance out the sound. The finished product excites me.


[Ensemble (drums, piano...?)] Contrarian by Future of the Left. I want to do an ensemble cover to this strangely tender tune which caps off a punk/indie album.

[Ensemble (kit + 2x clarinet] All the Children Are Dead by Venetian Snares. My dream is to take the moaning bass, snare, and hihat as given, and condense the other effects into toms and things, and put it under two clarinets to scream out the melody.

[Ensemble (Clarinet Quartet] Halfway Up The Stairs of Mucus by Venetian Snares. The song has so much power in rising out of the muck of its own beats, and these really elegaic melodies spiral out of that. In some ways it'd be a crime to remove them without some noise, which is why if I scored it for clarinet quartet, I'd have some noise action going on one of the horns.

These Days of Grey Summer

A few musical-related things that excited me have started to happen, or are sorta nearing the realm of completion and finality.

I found my old Casio Portatone, a sampling keyboard which I first learned how to plan on. As a sampler it's a pretty primitive tool, and I'm none to happy with it, but with the flute setting on it doctored a bit, it could sound like a legitimate synthesizer. Using a 4 mm cable and a converter I can actually feed it into the DP-01 and record it, which will feature heavily in my next project. There are also adorable little midi-drumbeats to play with.

I am out of classes, and for my senior project I am making an album. By time, half and half covers and originals. Covers are: "He Poos Clouds and "This Lamb Sells Condos" by Owen Pallett, both for piano and voice; "Accidents" by Arcade Fire, for clarinet quartet; "Like Someone In Love," the arrangement performed by Bjork on Debut, for piano and voice; "Woody Guthrie's America" by Akron/Family, for piano, clarinet, voice, bass, drums, flutes and recorders; "Martha My Dear" by the Beatles for piano, clarinet and voice; "The Fragrance of Dark Coffee" by Iwadare from Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban 3 for piano and sampled voices; and "Winter is Coming" by Radicalface for bass guitar, two clarinets, drums, and voice. Should be "done" May 25th...um...

I have finished my run of spring concerts, especially dense this month with Ben Folds, Evelyn Evelyn, Owen Pallett, and Jonsi, with Neutral Uke Hotel tonight for fun. I fell out of the habit of writing about music because I was worrying about too much else, but I'll be posting for the latter four pretty soon.

I am performing the entirety of Beethoven's Piano Sonata, Op. 26 (Theme and 5 Variations) early next month. I'm freaking out a little, especially since I haven't gotten into a good practice rhythm like I thought I would. I'm in control of the notes for the most part, so I think it should turn out alright...but when you forget to practice for a week...I have purchased a dayplanner and hopefully I can pick things up.

I'm online! My version of "Woody Guthrie's America" is the first cut of the Northeast division of WGA v.2. It's more of a demo than anything, and I'm redoing it for the album above.

Stupid little status updates remind bored musicians to keep to what keeps them on.

Piano / Stuff I'm Sad I'm Missing / Fucking Martha

Just worked through the theme and first variation of Beethoven's Sonata 12. Part of the reason I love Beethoven so much is those "what the fuck" moments: "Stacked fifths over here?" "Stacked fourths over there!?" "How long must you wait before throwing in accidentals and why do they make so much sense?" "Ocatves of Eb to D, then E, then F, G, Ab...in Eb major?" "This chord contains the top three notes of the Schoenberg chord..." "Is that a d diminished flat 9 over F!?! Passing dissonances my ass!" And yet even after plunking through a few sight-reads, it all finds its context in place. Fun stuff, although I kind of wanted to try for the tempest...heheh.

Because of a really really cool solo daytrip up to Montreal to see the big OP on Feb 20th, and a following rather expensive ticket to see Muse on Mar 6th, and a trip with friends soon after, I can't really justify any new concerts until like midapril. Which sucks, because so many good acts are coming through, even to the 18+ shows that I'll be able to head to now:

1/15 - Drug Rug
1/17 - Camper van Beethoven
1/27 - Of Montreal
2/10-11 - Magnetic Fields
2/13 - Tegan and Sara
2/18 - Editors
3/11 - Balkan Beat Box
2/20 - Fucked Up
3/27 - Spoon
3/27 - Toro y Moi (for $9, I'd do it, guy was sick on the Islands tour)
3/31 - Japandroids
3/31 - Miike Snow
4/3 - Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
4/4 - Wilco
4/10 - Xiu Xiu
4/17 - Kaki King (eep)

1963
Aaaand Coakley is ruining everything because Brown knows how to appeal to the 30- and 40-somethings who were barely alive when Kennedy got elected, never had a sense of legacy about the Kennedy family, and are more pissed about their lost job or home than anything else. Fuck me.

Concert Review: Amanda Palmer with the Boston Pops

Sappy Yew Beer, everybody. I spent last night at the Pops with my ladyfriend. Amanda had played a show there in the past which my friend David saw, and he said it was amazing. Having been one of the folks who had tickets to her cancelled House of Blues show, we got express notice and a place in the VIP party. So after traversing Boston trying to keep warm in the parades, we made our way to symphony hall. Hoorah!

It was fun enough just sitting in line, waiting for people. The draw that Amanda has is intense and so deliciously eclectic. The goth idiom, the victorian idiom, the steampunk idiom, the fuck-organized-society idiom, and the do-crazy-shit-and-be-beautiful-and-creative idiom all melded together smoothly. Thankfully people got dressed up this time (as was not the case at shows of the Onion Cellar, for example), and so it was nice looking at the crossdressers and the subtle cosplayers and the generally wild and expressive folks in semi-formal, semi-distorted attire (the only full tuxes I saw were on those of the female sex). And that was all just the public! Amanda had all sorts of crazy art acts hopping about, including a coin operated cabaret act, a crazy rock group or two, and others. There was a surprisingly number of the fur-coated regular concertgoers as well, and even more surprisingly, I think only a small number of them walked out in the end. All of this was covered in a healthy dosage of party hats, noisemakers, and general badassery.

Amanda played two ukulele songs with Miss Tess' band at the VIP thingie, which was great to see. Musically it wasn't mindblowing, but she's a fine player, and more importantly she was clearly far, far, FAR into the "let's have a joyous paaaaaarty!" kind of place of mind. So it served to get me pumped up.

Pops went on at 10. I didn't realize that "a night at the pops with amanda palmer" meant "40 minutes of the pops, a 10 minute film, and then an hour of amanda," but they did a fine job. I've always likened the pops to a very serious prostitute who thinks he's an artist; that being said, if they are a very skilled prostitute. Their renditions of "The Imperial March," "Mack the Knife," "All That Jazz," "A Fifth of Beethoven," 3 tunes from Carmen, and an absolutely impeccable and heart-wrenching rendition of Bjork's "Overture" (to Dancer in the Dark, and with lyrics called "New Day," but never "Selmasongs," Keith). And then it was done. The songs were festive in nature, had a bit of nice flourish, and functions just as the pre-show festivities had: riling up and entertaining.

At around 11:00, a film directed by Neil Gaiman (five feet away from whom I was twice that night...I love that he's dating Amanda, they're perfect) came on, Statuesque. It's under the "10 Minute Tales" name, and a bunch of "illegal" (read: unlicensed) copies are floating around the internet (to Amanda's joy) to see. A fine piece of filmwork, Amanda does as fine a job as she did in With The Needle That Sings In Her Heart (such a good fucking show: pics and stream) and some of the highest resolution jam I have ever seen. More than one of the folks in that crowd had done living statue work before, and the theme was all a part of the anarchic creativity of that night. Niel gave a really heartwarming New Years wish all about dangerous dreams and unexpected invention and ambitious creativity (as well as kindness and wisdom, ha...a few moments later I got called a fag by some ruffled fiftysomething). So we were all in our "WILD THOUGHTS AND URGE TO MAKE ORGIASTIC CREATION" mode when Amanda popped on.

Started with Missed Me, beginning with the orchestra building it (and everybody going nuts) while Amanda readied herself in the back. In the recording, after she finishes a vocal progression ("If you...that must mean...etc.") there's a high minor second before the piano and drums jolt back into action. On each and every one of those (and a few other moments), a musician from the crowd (trumpeter, violinist, guy with duck beak, trombonist in the first balcony, and then Keith Lockhart with a moocow) started chasing Amanda around, and then she started leading them on. It was all very very sexual, which I think was mostly for the good. Amanda knows the shock value of sexuality, and so she plays shoes essentially in her underwear; I wish she was more expressive with her view of her body than just shock, but it really gave the air a spark. Song continued, all around well done. Very good showwomanship, fine playing.

Amanda's been talking about her Tchaikovsky piece for the pops that she'd been planning, and I didn't expect her to add any theatrics. But she had some guy's cell phone ring, made him come up and pretend to me not in the know, and then hop into full swing while she danced around. The piece did make clear her musical limitations. She is not a subtle pianist. She is a highly expressive musician, but she doesn't seem to have very many shades between piano and forte. Nevertheless, she and her slightly inebriated self (there was a small table with wine glasses and champagne on it...a good running gag) did a fine job. Interestingly, I know the man who was going to teach her that piece, and who was going to be the man in the crowd.

The same entrance to "A Fifth of Beethoven" served as the entrance (again, to riotous applause) for Coin-Operated Boy. The arrangement felt a bit contrived, but the percussion was very very good, as it was the entire night (even if the slight echo of symphony hall wasn't made for hihats). Amanda and Keith were on good enough terms that she messed around with the cues for the hits at the end of the bridge: "I....want.........a, I!...........want a I want....a...I.....want.....a...................coin-operated boy." During the record skip part, she had Keith give her a glass of champagne. Mr. Lockhart really is the sanity of the pops, and only between his collaboration with Amanda did the energy keep going while the players, bemused, played their parts.

Gets fuzzy from here, but somewhere in the mix was Astronaut, Runs in the Family, Farewell (or some song or other from Cabaret), Hurt (an amazing NIN cover), Poker Face (aided by the ladies from The Slutcracker and mixed in with a poststructuralist academic discussion of the implications of the song: "Has Lady Gaga, in attempting to free herself from the ties to femininity and its requisite habits and presentation, trapped herself in the poststructuralist chains of fame and its necessities?"), a late night night countdown to We Are the Champions (with a touch of bombastically joyous irony...turns out the countdown was actually at 11:58, but nobody cared), and a pretty ok version of Leeds United. Everything was punctuated by Amanda's lack of clothing, lack of propriety, and lack of sobriety. Champagne was imbibed and the new year was described.

To sum up: faux-fur coats with fake baby heads whose eyes were fake baby heads whose eyes where pudgy baby hands. That was my night.

Stuff I'm Spinning / Piano

I've just been idly plugging things in, too reduced by sickness and fatigue to do some honest reviews. I feel cloudy.

Heartbeat Radio - Sondre Lerche. The guy did some fantastic work for "Dan in Real Life," and some of his other records have some interesting parts to them. When he strips away his rock influences for his acoustic focus, or generally turns down the rock for more lounge-style stuff, I'm often frustrated. His songwriting can be frustratingly convoluted, and although he has a pretty good sense of melody, his lyricism can be frustrating . He has a smooth sound, and occasionally his lounge stuff reaches good points, but the most of "Two Way Monologue" was difficult for me. Same with "Heartbeat Radio," except now he's discovered violins. His arranging in certain parts is good, and "I Guess It's Gonna Rain Today" has some wonderful intervals...but damn, he just doesn't know how to create flow and hang with it.

Tarot Sport - Fuck Buttons. I was really excited when I heard they had a new album, and I'm still working through it. However, my first impression is...disappointment. I don't like the dancey aspect to it. They used the 4/4 bass drum as a sort of pivot before, a basis or a spine, around which the song pivoted, struck against, shone with...I'm thinking directly of "Colours Move," but the regularity of the drums in a few other songs from Street Horrrsing provides a similar effect. I feel like they're...letting up a bit. That's just my first impression; I expect it to grow on me blah blah blah.

Fluent in Stroll - Big D and the Kids Table. The newfound cute self-defined "Stroll" genre is an excuse for '50s throwback and childish lyrics spiced with that same, somewhat annoying, female backup. I loved their earlier stuff, but I don't like the direction of this. Shame.

Kasabian. I'm listening to everything I can find, I love it I love it I love it I love it.



My chopin prelude (Db major for Kessler, the name "Raindrop" is highly inapt) is going awfully. I barely practiced and had no lessons ove the past three weeks. I've lost my technical ability over the parts, and I can barely play the second part of the middle section (with those rich, dissonant, tortured chords). Since it's such good music to hole up to and bash away at, in stress or peace, I think I'll spend my free time remastering certain technical aspects.

This totally leaves open all the texture-related and gesture-related and personal stuff that I should be doing. I need adjectives, and I need to stick with them and express them. I've had a few wonderful discussion about the nature of silence in the piece, and about the strange pivot point of the Ab/G# and its importance/relevance. I can barely do roman numeral analysis and I want to entirely split apart the piece and look for those golden gels and glowly liquids undearneath its placid skin. It has an unmatched range of emotion, but because the 3 statements of theme are so simliar (with the rich opportunity for contrast in the ornamentation), flow is so vitally important. How do you lead up to the creeping terror of the B section? How do you surface from it? How can you emerge from the silence, cascading down the piano in that Db major chord, with such expectation of rising again? To what? Where are we going?

I am thus overpowered by the work.