After my last post, I spent the Saturday evening watching a couple of movies that I first saw as a teenager back in the 80s. I came across Conan the Barbarian as I flicked through the available stuff in Netflix and ended up watching it all the way through. Afterwards, feeling the need for something to stimulate my mind, I made it a double feature night and proceeded to watch Driving Miss Daisy.
I have always had a tendency towards extreme contrasts. If I happen to watch a movie that absolutely scares the shit out of me, I immediately watch something like Brother Bear or Finding Nemo to help bring the warm fuzzies back. Even though my record collection is filled heavily with a lot of punk and darker rock and roll, I am able to (rather happily) have an in depth conversation about the compositions of Rodgers and Hammerstein at any time. And I am certainly not the only person who finds need for something a little salty (like peanuts or potato chips) after eating a really sweet dessert.
On Sunday morning, I woke up thinking, "Gee, I probably could have waited another 30 years before watching Conan, but why did I wait so long before watching Driving Miss Daisy?"
Interestingly enough, back in high school, I can't remember anyone admitting that they saw the Oscar winning picture, but EVERYONE had seen Conan. In fairness, I can recall standing around at a punk show in a local club, wearing a Clash t-shirt and electing NOT to bring up the fact that I had watched The Sound of Music the previous evening.
At any rate, I have spent this past week thinking about contrasts, particularly musical contrasts. I continue to work on some songs where I am adding vocals. Last month, I sat down and listed all the songs that I felt like I wanted to experiment with. Almost all of them are songs that I first heard (and loved) back in the 80s, and over the years I have played around with a piano interpretation of the original song. True, with several, the original was also played on piano, but in a couple of cases, the artist did a piano adaptation a few years after the original was released.
Rather than attempting to find the original sheet music, I learn the basics by ear; listening to the song over and over again. Sometimes I scratch out a chord progression first, then adapt as I play around with the melody. This is a fairly standard approach, and completely different from how I play pieces that are more classical (and without lyrics), where I stick with the original notation.
It is a very fulfilling experience, playing a piece by ear. Sometimes I will change the tempo, playing faster (or slower), and other times I will change the octaves. Every once in awhile, I will change the key, and this has been particularly relevant when adding vocals. However, I recognize my vocal range, and like to stick to the original key when possible. This can be a little limiting, especially since my voice is kind of deep.
Because I apply a certain element of improvisation to the songs, I do not always play something the same way (with the same notes) each time. I play around with a piece for a while, then listen to some of the recordings, then gradually settle on a sort of final version.
Then, I start working on the vocals, which, in my case, requires a lot of focus, and a shitload of reminders from Kenny Werner; "Every note you sing is the most beautiful sound in the world."
I got thrown off track (literally) this week when listening to a couple of my recent tracks. One track that I had hastily recorded the day before really stood out as a prime example as to why karaoke is never a good thing. I was standing on my balcony, cup of coffee in hand, listening and thinking, "Geez, who the hell is singing that?"
It was if Grape Ape and Baby Huey had a small skirmish before entering the studio to sing.
I laughed out loud, then reminded myself of a few important words of wisdom. First, the mental note to work on pitch. Second, it's all easy, but not familiar. As it becomes more familiar, it gets even better. Third, it's all about perception. If you tell yourself that it sucks, then it will suck. Fourth, another mental note: close the windows in the living room before recording vocal. At least there won't be the sound of a passing motor scooter in the background.
Home studio recording is still a work in progress for me. Recording piano is very straight forward, as I can send the audio output directly to a mixer/recorder. Vocals are more challenging, and even though I have some quality equipment, it is quality equipment set up in a living room. My flat is a grown up version of my place at Little Goliad, and both places are not unlike a college dorm room of someone with a little more money. I suspect that the Erhebungsbeauftrager (yep, that one is really fun to say out loud) who came by to collect some information earlier in the week for the microcensus was thinking about that when he glanced at the Smiths poster on my wall.
The microphone in my living room is next to the piano, and connected to a small mixer, which connects to a computer. I make it work, and am satisfied with the current set up, all the while knowing that I would love to have the space and the funds for something a bit more extravagant.
On the other hand, I hold the belief that the skill lies with the individual; anything else can only serve to complement. For example, a guitarist with minimal experience can play the finest Martin guitar available, and still sound inexperienced. True, the quality of the sound produced might be better (probably a lot better) but it will not make the player a professional.
I consider myself more skilled in playing piano than singing, but I enjoy both activities. Due to my interest in doing (spoken) voice-over work at some point in my future, I am actively getting to know my voice better, and that includes the singing. Hence, the recent(-ish) time spent playing rockstar at home.
On top of that, I am learning just a little bit about the finer points of sound engineering. Again, it's unfamiliar, and will only get easier as it goes along. This week I decided to bring out my new Sambas, which had been sitting in their shoe box for the past couple of years, waiting to be worn. I'd actually forgotten about them until I discovered them at the bottom of the closet.
Like with a lot of new shoes, they squeak; something I discovered immediately after putting them on and walking around on my hardwood floors. This made for some rather interesting additions to one of the vocal tracks. I was both extremely impressed by the quality and sensitivity of my microphone, but equally irritated that currently anyone can hear me walking from a good 10 meters away.
But, if these are the kind of problems that I am going to have, I can live with it. After all, they are solvable problems.
The rest comes down to perception, and again, I take the time to reaffirm a few concepts:
It's the best sound in the world.
Don't try so hard.
It only gets easier as it becomes more familiar.
One of the best things that came from all this adventure (ie..Grape Ape walking in a rainstorm) is that I was able to key in on a couple of improvisational music passages that I had been struggling with, and I am really pleased on how they have improved.
It's almost effortless.
see you out there
bryan
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