Strength In Letting Go

I understand what it's like to have an idea-be it a song, or a concept of one-exactly as you want it (in your head), or a direction you want to take. You try to realize this idea; bring it to life with your co-workers, only to find this a challenge in & of itsef. And this could be for many reasons: apathy, uncooperation, difference of opinion or control. Still, you do your best to convey what you're feeling & how you want it expressed: taking time to direct the other's parts & making corrections or suggestions. But the others just aren't on board. Or they get angered; feeling you are trying to control things, so you approach them as if walking on eggshells. It's frustrating & can be heartbreaking or angering, for both sides. You sometimes just want to go off.

I was watching The Beatles: Get Back Chronicles-specifically the scene where Paul is trying to work out an idea with George-for the first time in its complete context, & as uncomfortable & awkward as it seems (for the spectator & participants) I can relate to both Paul's & George's side a little bit more:

I see how Paul handles George with kids gloves: instead of losing it, Paul addresses George calmly saying "I am trying to help you" instead of "shut up & do what I say", or "It's not sounding together" instead of "you're playing it wrong" (meaning: it's one thing to play the right notes but it's a whole other thing to place those notes where they belong; which is in sync with me). Paul wants the overall feel of the song "simpler", so they can "complicate it where it needs complications". All this while George is doodling on his guitar, I believe giving Paul half of his attention & he took what was said the wrong way; thinking Paul was calling him complicated. But what Paul means is; if you start with a simple canvas you give yourself room upon which to build & add dynamics.

I see in George a strengh & restraint of temper in the way he handles what can so easily be seeing (& taken) as harsh criticism. After he immediately shifts his concentration from the guitar to Paul, it seems as though he will do one of two things; argue or leave. Instead, he holds back, keeps composure & tells Paul "I'll play whatever you want me to play, or I won't play at all if you don't want me to...whatever it is...I'll do it." He wasn't trying to be difficult with this statement, he was actually being sincere; surrendering natural instinct as a guitarist to appease the aural perception of a director. This takes something alot harder to do than hold back, it takes letting go.

The way I see it, it's all a struggle of letting go: of one's control (Paul) & of one's nature (George). And I can relate to both. As a guitarist, I understand the want to inject as much of myself into a piece of work. As a songwriter, I understand the want to control the arrangement. But ultimately, it's about the betterment of the song, not one's personal fingerprint. And for all the frustration, argument & tension, the results are almost always worth it, because if there is that much passion put into the process then there's twice as much pumped out of the product. Overall, I've learned that displaying strength & tolerance as a musician & co-worker help both the song and the artist & that's why sometimes you have to be bigger than yourself first.

The Art Of Writing

I never know when an idea or thought that I want to express musically or lyrically will come my way, but it seems to be at the most inopportune moments (it's hard when it's a beat because I can't quite translate that into text); on the brink of sleep or at a work desk, but rarely with tool in hand and time to spare. This is because inspiration isn't on command (at least not yet), and I am inspired by day-to-day living. I can't force things. It takes time, and work, to start with an emotion (through a note or a word) and develope it outwards. And no matter what I'm expressing, the most important thing is for it be be as direct and pure as possible; completely honest.

The more I write - the more practice I give myself - the better I get at being able to formulate my ideas. Because I can look back and see the trends and patterns that portray my writing style. This is important because I can; improve on what I like, work on what I don't like, as well as make eliminations. It's this practice of revision and editing that helps me hone my craft and sharpens my skills. And this lines up perfectly with what my dad always told me: "if you want to be a good writer, then you have to love to re-write, and re-write, and re-write, and re-write…"

Art Out Of "Noise"

I just got back into town from seeing what is probably the most important band of my generation (definitely one of the most important bands of all time), live at the Hollywood Bowl: Radiohead. The show left me speechless...they performed nearly every song I hoped to hear & they touched on material from every album to date.

Picking Radiohead one album over the other would be near impossible to do because they are each incomparable & amazing in their own right: it's as if each was recorded by a different band. But I've heard from quite a few friends that they weren't as floored with Kid A as I was...this bothered me, and I will try to elaborate on why this album should be given another go-round, hopefully you'll grow to appreciate this album in particular:

I can appreciate every album, especially Kid A through Hail to the Thief, because I understand where it comes from...I hear sounds in everyday life and think of something musical: I recall a specific instance when I was younger, trying to sleep through the "noise" of gardeners, working on the front yard. I was a little annoyed and in-and-out of consciousness, but was mostly in a dream-state. Then there was this sort of Doppler-effect of the motor of a hedge-trimmer as it was being operated. I heard a certain wave pattern and it sounded musical, almost melodic. It immediately woke me up. I remember wanting to capture that sound and record it. And not just for the melody, but for the tone: the specific tonality, timbre and pitch.

And to me, that's what Radiohead's music is; most of their songs on these albums (like the Gloaming and Idioteque, for example) are a collection of these sounds. They are what most people would consider "noise", but put together and organized in a certain pulse or pattern, with a specific beat. "Noise", reminiscent to: circuits traveling though electronic instruments, the blended sounds of voices on an un-dialed-in radio station, frequencies out-of-tune, that snow fuzz-sound of a TV channel off-air, the sound of gas moving through rusty pipes in an old, run-down house, machinery moving in an industrial plant. That's what it is: "noise" pollution, that most people ignore or complain about, all put together to make music…and then, most extraordinary to me, for Thom Yorke to somehow think of an amazing melody line over this?!!? It is nothing short of genius.