Weeknotes: February 12-16, 2024
Monday 2/12/24
"I Want You To Want Me is one of my least favorite songs." Unbidden, 9:18AM.
This statement launches the liveliest of my various group chats into its morning of banter. There are certainly better Cheap Trick songs, though I find it hard to be too critical of this enduring 1977 earworm. I've always enjoyed hearing the Budokan version with its enthusiastic callback lines from the crowd. Honestly, I can think of so many other repetitive pop songs by lesser groups that stoke my ire. The other offending songs posited are Concrete Blonde's version of Leonard Cohen's "Everybody Knows" and Patience and Prudence's "Tonight You Belong To Me." I have some Gen X nostalgia for the former which reminds me of the Pump Up the Volume soundtrack. The latter, while overly precious, is so brilliantly immortalized by Steve Martin and Bernadette Peters in The Jerk, that I can't really hate the song itself. All three strike me as odd bugbears, but then I've got plenty of my own.
Later that night at rehearsal CC and I work out a version of my odd little post office box song which really comes to life with her harmonies. While observing me struggling to unlock my phone and record a version she asks if my passcode is really 333333. It is not, but now I laugh whenever I imagine someone hammering away at a single number code. Could you get away with it? Is it any better than 123456?
Tuesday 2/13/24
Lured by the offer of free breakfast I drive into the office. The giant parking lot has seen better days and the entire complex looks foreboding in a brutalist way. The weed dispensary that borders the south end of the lot emits its pungent cloud which I can smell even with the windows closed. Inside I eat an obligatory paczki which I always think I'll enjoy more than I do. Always custard, never jam.
Between assignments I message with my friend Ben in Hammondsport, New York about booking a short session with him next week. My upcoming ski trip will take me within a couple hours of his studio up in the Finger Lakes. This is where I recorded parts of my first solo album back in 2001. More recently I visited Ben and his partner Connie in autumn 2021 to run the Wineglass Marathon, a beautiful point to point race beginning in nearby Bath and ending in downtown Corning. After the race, as I sat drinking beer in a recliner in Ben's garage, I watched him coax chipmunks through little obstacle courses he'd constructed, rewarding them with peanuts.
Wednesday 2/14/24
Some days you're on the struggle bus. In late afternoon I find myself standing at the kitchen counter writing a piece on my laptop without remembering why I'd migrated there. I feel depressed and slump down onto the linoleum to hack through the rest of my work. Islay pads in from the bedroom and gives me a questioning look. I decide to go for a run.
I have new running shoes to break in. Hoka Clifton 9s in a powdery blue shade the company describes as "Dusk/Illusion." Wow. The big chunky soles feel so limber after my played-out Clifton 8s which have almost 600 miles on them. I've come a long way with athletic wear. When I started running in 2009, I owned one pair of Reebok shorts, some budget Asics shoes I chose at random, and no tops. I ran my first 10K in a vintage Pink Floyd t-shirt. I resisted buying proper running attire for the first couple years, even after my first two marathons. I don't really know why. I guess it seemed like some kind of affront to my self image as a rock musician. I eventually realized how ridiculous this was and went all in, overcompensating with a wardrobe of increasingly bright shoes, loads of technical shirts earned from races, windbreaker outer shells, tights, armbands, headbands, reflectors for night running, the whole kit. It feels good to overcome ideas you have about yourself. I've been thinking about this a lot lately. As I age, I seem to dig in harder on what I think I'm all about. Some of it is hard-won from experience, but a lot is just habitual and a fear of leaving my comfort zone.
Thursday 2/15/24
I spend some time with a group of short songs I've written, trying to shore up the guitar parts for tracking next week. I've been more mindful of recording off the grid whenever I can. I don't have great rhythm and most of the music I've released over the years has been recorded to a click track, but especially for some of these short little vignettes, I'm trying to create a more relaxed feel. All three of the micro-songs (songlets?) on my last album ("Walking Staff," "Richard of York," and "My Favorite Part of the Day is Right Now") were recorded off the grid and I'm trying to decide which, if any, of these new songs will benefit from this appraoch. So far it seems like half work better with a click. The others can meander a bit more. I note their tempos and practice to a metronome for a while.
That evening TMSP holds our first rehearsal since late November. Even after two and half months off I'm shocked at how tight we sound. Everyone is clicking and it feels really good in the room. Serge is debuting a new bass, an old mid-'60s Kay hollowbody that has had the frets stripped off. It's got a nice woody tone and adds dimension to the songs he uses it on. Matt ends up playing my electric guitar on a song and I make a mental note to buy a longer cable that will reach his side of the stage. I never used to think about stuff like that. Being in a grown up band is nice. We pay attention to details.
Friday 2/16/24
Work drama occupies much of the day. It seems we are moving into a smaller building a couple miles away to better accommodate the shrinking size of our largely remote staff. I'm honestly surprised it took this long to abandon the larger space. It will be the third move since I was hired and my attachment to the current office is minimal. I come to the realization that I have worked my entire career in the same part of town. I am a southside man through and through.
I spend some more time editing a guitar track I recorded last month. I'd intended it to be as complete a performance as I could manage, but I'm just not the clean and precise player I want to be no matter how much I practice. The song is well written, I think. A complex (for me, at least) fingerpicked instrumental with multiple sections. I clean it up as best I can and pick up my other guitar to work on a duet line. It has a strong, buoyant melody, almost like a pop song.
At 5:30 I meet some coworkers at a brewery I dislike. I end up here far more often than I want to, but I'm a team player. The menu seems incomprehensible to me and I struggle to find something palatable. When I do, it's $9, reinforcing my bias.