Once upon a time, in a far away and mysterious land called The Nineties, there was a band called Failure.  The much younger version of me discovered them somehow, via their single "Stuck on You".  That song came with a very cool music video that was clearly inspired by the opening montage from a James Bond movie. That song came from the album Fantastic Planet, which I did not hesitate to procure, and that was my first experience with a concept album.  Alas, Failure broke up before I could see them live.  I bought their other two albums (Comfort and Magnified), I bought everything Ken Andrews released with his solo project On, I listened to the Greg Edwards project Autolux... and time passed.

After much time passed, the gentlemen of Failure - Ken Andrews, Greg Edwards, and Kelli Scott - literally got the band back together.  They discovered that people out there still loved Fantastic Planet very much.  They went on the road to play music.  This was my chance to see them... and see them I did, almost exactly six years ago.

I flew to Atlanta to see them at The Masquerade.  As is my custom, I got to the venue very early, well before the doors opened.  I was expecting most of the concert attendees to be my age or older... after all, this band had vanished for seventeen years.  I was surprised to see some young folks in line waiting for the show.  Then I remembered, that there are some younger artists who dig Failure, and other well-known bands who aren't so young who dig Failure, and maybe that's how a different generation came to discover them.

They couldn't have picked a more appropriate song to open the show.  I mean, it was the TREE OF STARS tour, they had to play this one:

Notice how perfect and pristine their sound is?  You're probably thinking that they sound this way because this is a controlled studio environment in the video.  Yes, this is... but this is EXACTLY what they sound like in a less-controlled concert environment.  This band... they are obsessive about their sound.  Due to their lengthy career and changing gear, in order to replicate all of the sounds on their albums, they use fractal technology.  I am not an expert, so I can't explain all that well how it works, but if you really want to know, Ken Andrews can tell you.  What I do know is that Failure concerts are the best-sounding shows I have ever attended.  (Side note:  Even if you don't want to watch the entire last video I posted with Ken talking about fractal audio, at least watch the beginning.  He films himself rehearsing after ten months of not having done any singing.  He sounds great.  He essentially used his engineering experience to mix the vocals and the guitar out of the recorded song, and is playing guitar and singing along to the rhythm tracks.)

When I was young, there was a great deal of jumping around and jostling at a loud rock show.  I'm too old for that now of course, and was just a tiny bit apprehensive once Failure got into the groove onstage.  They have plenty of songs that aren't as laid back and restrained as "Another Space Song".  Well, there was no jumping around at this show.  No jostling.  No shoving.  There was some singing along, but barely even anyone nodding their head.  I looked around at the audience, and I immediately understood.  Most of these people were about my age, and none of us ever thought we would see this band play live.  We were all just in too much shock at what we were seeing. I kept watching in awe, trying to figure out how to play songs that had come out of my CD players over and over again by watching Ken's hands. I was also rather transfixed by watching Kelli Scott's drumming in person, especially on their song about Virginia Woolf, "Wet Gravity".  

They didn't disappoint.  They played something from all of their first three albums.  I mean, this setlist, wow.  When they played "Dirty Blue Balloons", it made all the sense in the world hearing the audience sing "I've waited so long without you/ I've waited too long for you"...  Indeed, indeed we had.

This is a question I have been asked many times.  After all, bass is not an instrument that lends itself all that well to solo performance, unless you happen to be Victor Wooten.  (I am not Victor Wooten.)  The role of the bass in a band is to help the drummer with the rhythmic foundation, whilst also lending some bottom end support to the rest of the music... sometimes, some melodic stuff, but generally, the role is a supporting role.  Bass players are usually the people in the band whose name everyone forgets (with a few exceptions), standing in the back by the drummer (I see you Colin Greenwood), holding it down without recognition.  That's ok, I dig that role.  Why do I dig that role?

Well, think about when you used to drive around in your car listening to music.  What did you turn up to really get your head nodding? (I'm going to guess it wasn't the treble.)

I think back to some of my favorite songs on the albums I used to listen to back in the early nineties.  On Nevermind, it was "Lounge Act", especially the first ten seconds.  On Foo Fighters, it was "For All the Cows", with those fantastic slides. How about Superunknown?  "The Day I Tried To Live".  Dirt? "Would".  Notice something in common?  SO VERY MUCH GROOVE.  The bass makes those songs what they are.

Here's what really made up my mind though.  This video, right here:

Be still my heart.  I was in high school, and still remember thinking this was one of the coolest musical performances I had ever seen.  Listen to how much the bass moves around, but never gets in the way.  Hear those awesome bass slides in the turnaround?  They're so much more groovy than the guitar slide sound.  In the second chorus, wow, look at the bass gentleman's fingers, looking like a person briskly walking.  Ooooh, then the break down.  Not only could this gentleman play, but he also sang harmonies!  Check it out:

This gentleman's name is Rob DeLeo.  He plays bass.  He sings.  He also wrote most of the best riff-tastic parts from this band's catalog.  A bass player that writes songs, how about that?  He also made playing bass look cool, even though nobody ever looks at the bassist.  I mean, look at his outfit here, in what is admittedly, a delightfully cheesy music video:

In summary, Rob DeLeo was the factor that made teenage me decide to learn bass.  Now, I'm old, and have lost all concern about looking cool, because whatever, just listen to my music.  I still like singing harmonies though, even though I'm not good at it.  I still like playing bass, finding that groove.  I still like writing songs.  I also still consider Rob DeLeo to be one of my favorite musicians.

Making an album is a long journey.  The time spent writing and re-writing, then re-writing again at home.  The arranging, which often requires another re-write.  The demos.  The gathering in the studio to discuss and plan.  Session after session after session with a whole bunch of really talented people.  Take after take after take of singing, repeating the process if you're a little sharp or a little flat.  The listening to studio bounces over and over and over and over.  The mixing.  That's my process and my journey at least.  Many musicians probably have it easier.  For me, it's a long journey, and it's hard work, and I wouldn't be able to do it without the help of a great many people.

I'd like to celebrate a little more than a year spent working on Anxious Inventions & Fictions by means of a photo blog entry.   

Let's begin:

This is engineer extraordinaire Patrick Himes adjusting the boom for Eric Cassidy on June 2, 2019.  Eric sang harmonies on "Bright Ideas".  Ultimately, that song didn't make it to Anxious Inventions & Fictions, but it is out right now as a stand-alone single.  Please click here to listen to it.

Here's Eric Cassidy again, this time holding an accordion.  He played this on June 30, 2019, during the outro on "Pauline".  You can hear this song on Defacing the Moon, as the songs from that album were chosen from these sessions.

This is Dustin Booher, with me on June 29,2019.  He is a fellow Xenian, and we have known each other since we were five years old.  He sang on "Sunday (That Pill)", which is on Defacing the Moon.  He also lent outstanding vocals to "Never Let Go", which is the 4th song on Anxious Inventions & Fictions.

There is Dustin in the background... and here is Tim Pritchard on July 27, 2019, playing guitar.  You can hear his fine work on "I Am a Number" and "Promise".

This is Jackie and Brandon, who are half of Westerly Station. I met them in Austin at the CD Baby DIY Musician Conference.  (I wrote about that before.)  Brandon is a fellow Ohioan, and we even grew up in the same county.  It was quite convenient that they came from their Texas home to Ohio when I was in the studio, and they had the time to stop by.  Brandon played mandolin on "Sunday (That Pill)", and it sounds great.  

Hello there, Ken Hall.  Normally, you can find him seated behind a piano, a task he performs in Shrug and Human Cannonball.  I invited him to play a little trombone.  You can hear Ken play for about a second and a half on "Your Anthem", which is the first track on Anxious Inventions & Fictions.

This handsome fella is Kent Montgomery.  He is the lead guitarist from The New Old Fashioned.   He was kind enough to play guitar on "Never Let Go", "Won't Love You Anymore", "Run To You", and "Wapakoneta".  That last song didn't make the album, but I will release it at some point.  

Here I am with Nathan Peters, who I've known over 20 years.  You might recognize him as the lead singer and keyboardist from legendary Dayton band Captain of Industry.  These days, he fronts Lioness.  He was kind enough to come to the studio and play piano on "Goodbye".  I wrote the song on piano, but I don't have the chops to give it the recorded performance that it deserves.  Thanks to Nathan's work, it sounds so very good.

The most recent photo.  January 23, 2020.  As you can see from the wood floors and the walls, this photo was taken after the great Reel Love flood and subsequent remodel.  (Scroll up to the first picture for the old school look of the main room in the studio.)  This was my last day in the studio for work on the album.  There was a mixing session after this, so the official end date was in February, but I didn't need to head down for that.  Patrick's steady hand guided me through this process, as he has done so many times for so many other musicians.  He has a fantastic ability to hear the song behind my low-quality home demos.  I can tell him what I am trying to accomplish as far as the sound I hear in my head is concerned, and he can figure out how to get me there.  This gentleman is a multi-instrumentalist, great singer, and true professional.  

I hope you have enjoyed this brief photo journey through a year's worth of work.  There are plenty of behind-the-scenes photos that I haven't even seen.  I have 5 disposable cameras that came to the studio with me, and they are filled with photos.  If you are curious as to what might be on them, they are available as one of the rewards on my Kickstarter campaign to crowdfund pressing Anxious Inventions & Fictions to vinyl.  Why not head over to the campaign and help me press some vinyl?

Usually, I write these concert memories posts about a show from at least a year ago, and this one just happened in January.  However, it was such a fantastic couple of days that I couldn't help myself.

If perchance you have read my blog before, you know I have seen Elbow live before.  You also know I love them very much, ever since their first album came out. They released a new album recently, Giants of All Sizes, and are out playing shows to support it... as one does.  They only scheduled four (4!) shows in the United States, and quite sadly for me, they were all on the West Coast.  After careful consideration, I decided that this was something my wife and I could not miss, so we flew out to San Diego on a Friday.

San Diego.  What a lovely city!  Let's put that aside for the moment though.  We land rather late, and we get to our hotel.  We are in need of drinks and snacks, so we set out on foot to procure these things.  While walking down one of the streets, I see a gentleman who bears a strong resemblance to Craig Potter.  (Craig Potter plays keyboards and sings harmonies in Elbow.)  As we get within a few meters of this gentleman, I say "Hey, you're Craig Potter."  Call me captain obvious.  Just a few steps behind him, well, there was lead singer and lyricist Guy Garvey.  I had missed Craig's brother Mark, he was a bit ahead of them, and had managed to walk by us without me noticing.  We had a very nice chat with the Elboys.  (Pete was in the hotel trying to sleep off some of the jet lag.) 

If you're wondering if it was cool to meet them, I assure you that is most certainly was.  My wife and I couldn't stop giggling about it the rest of the night.

You see, over in Europe, these guys are rock stars.  They routinely sell out arenas.  They play before thousands of people at festivals.  They even played at the 2012 London Olympics.  Now, here in the United States, yeah, not so much.  For whatever reason, they aren't famous... which is fine, as it means they can walk through the streets of an American city without being mobbed.  (Craig told me that he and his brother and Pete can usually walk around without being recognized, but Guy can hardly be outdoors without people noticing him.)  The other benefit that we have in the United States to Elbow not being overwhelmingly popular is that they play rather small venues, which is really the best way to experience live music.

House of Blues.  That's where they played in San Diego. It's a small room.  The Internet tells me that the capacity there is 1000.  Yeah, that's a small room.  For you Ohioans, that's smaller than Newport Music Hall on High Street in Columbus, and it's smaller than Bogart's on Vine Street in Cincinnati.  Yeah, that's a small room.  That's where Elbow played.  

We showed up early to queue for entry.  We met some lovely people who also made a trek for the show. Cricket was the first person in line.  She's quite ebullient, and is from Seattle.  I don't even remember how many times she said she has seen Elbow, it was 14 or 15 or something insane. Cricket also coincidentally managed to pick the same hotel for her San Diego stay as the band did, and had breakfast with Guy Garvey that morning.  We also met a wonderful couple from New York, the tastefully named Mike and his wife Christine, who were there with a local friend of theirs also named Christine.  It became apparent that although the people who enjoy Elbow in the United States are not numerous, they tend to be passionate about the band and their music.

The show.  The show was great.  Jesca Hoop opened. She was wonderful.  She also contributes some harmony vocals to the first track from Giants of All Sizes, so she came back out to sing those after her set.  In case you are wondering what exactly Elbow played... well, here's a picture of their setlist, which California Christine was kind enough to let me take.

It's not every day you get to see some of your favorite musicians up close.

After the show, we're hanging out and chatting with the folks around us... talking about how great the show was, talking about music in general.  Our new acquaintances from New York tell us that the gentleman who is lead singer for The Verve Pipe was in attendance, and how they had seen him and talked to him at a New York show.  I asked to clarify... "you mean Brian Vander Ark is here"?   See, I love his voice.  Love.  He's a great songwriter, having written one of my favorite songs of the entire nineties.  I also went to a few Verve Pipe shows back in the day.  Christine was kind enough to introduce me.  Again, being captain obvious, I start off by saying "so... I am told you're Brian Vander Ark".... I've really got to get better at opening lines when I meet a musician I respect.  So, I officially meet Brian and his wife Luz.  They came out for the show all the way from Michigan... and Brian was surprised that so many people flew such great lengths to see Elbow.  (Once I learned he was there, I thought to myself that it made perfect sense.  As the kids say, game recognize game.)

All told, yeah, a pretty great weekend.

For Squirrels - Example

This album came out while I was in high school.  I loved the lead single, and remember watching its video quite a bit on MTV, but by the time I got my hands on the album and listened to the entire thing, there were six or seven songs I liked even more.  Front to back, this is an album I always loved.  

Tragically, a van accident killed the lead singer and bass player shortly before this album was released, so this band remains rather obscure.  I remember in my early twenties always being surprised when I would meet someone who also had this album.  Usually, if someone had it, they were just about as enthusiastic about it as I was.

Example reminds me of my youth, gone many years ago.  It reminds me of longtime friends,  many of whom are gone in different ways.  It reminds me of driving down 35 or 270 or 33 to go hang out.  It makes me wish I could write a song that makes someone feel the way that "Disenchanted" still makes me feel all these years later.  It makes me wish I could write something with the brilliant simplicity of "Eskimo Sandune".

Also, these lyrics from "Under Smithville" have taken on different meaning for me than they did back in the day:

"And I've been feeling so old / Tell me now who you think I am"

Boyz II Men - Cooleyhighharmony

This album came out in 1991.  I was in junior high school.  I remember that you couldn't get away from the two hit singles on this record.  The more upbeat of them, "Motownphilly", had a video that was on MTV all of the time... you know, back when MTV played videos.  Four young black men, well-dressed, and singing some tight harmonies over a hip hop beat.  I don't remember having heard anything like it.  The other ubiquitous single, "It's So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday", was sung a cappella in four part harmony, with finger snaps being the only percussion.  I didn't know at the time that this was a cover.  What a fantastic choice to do a rendition of this song like this and put it on the album.  Maybe the album doesn't go nine times platinum without this song.

To do my due diligence for this blog post, I went back and listened to this album again.  It sounds very much of the time period from where it came, but it still sounds good.  

Those of you who remember this album might think that I have forgotten to mention "End of the Road", which was another single that you couldn't escape from hearing.  Well, it wasn't originally on this album.  It was a single produced for a movie soundtrack, and it did so well, that the label put it on the re-issue of Cooleyhighharmony that came out in 1993.  (The re-issue contains a fantastic a cappella rendition of "In the Still of the Night", and I remember wishing I could sing like that.  I mean, check out the glory of the nineties in this video.)

Listening these songs again takes me back to wandering the halls of Central Junior High.  I am also reminded of my younger brother, who loved this group and this album.

I have a vegan sister-in-law.  As a present to her, I made reservations at Le Potager de Charlotte when we went to Paris in the spring.  Note that I am definitely NOT vegan... but this place is fantastic, and even if you are an omnivore, if you happen to be in Paris, I recommend you stop by.

First, it's a family run restaurant.  There are two of them... one is in the 17th arrondisement, and the other is in the 9th.  One of the co-owners greeted us at the door and was also our server.  I like to support small businesses, especially the kind where the folks who own the place put so much work and energy into their restaurant.

Second, the food is outstanding.  Here, have a look at the menu. Note that some things on the menu change, based on what kind of vegetation happens to be fresh and in season. 

I started with the chickpea and rice crêpes.  (A side note to the folks at Le Potager de Charlotte... I'm an anglophone, and personally, I think it sounds strange to call these "pancakes".  Sure, they're thicker than your normal French crêpes, but I feel that your English-speaking customers know what a crêpe is without needing to translate it.  Just my opinion.)  You can see a picture of this starter on their website.  That cashew cream filling... wow.  It tasted fatty and cheesy, and the espelette powder on it added just a small background spiciness.  This was outstanding.  As you can see in the picture, it was served on some mixed salad.  No complaints about this course.  For my second course, I had another entrée, the avocado.  This is where I wish I had taken a picture.  It was basically a riff on a hard-boiled egg... but this is a vegan place, so the avocado was standing in for the solidified egg white.  The substance that made up the "yolk" was a deep yellow color, no doubt due to turmeric... and also a creamy and fatty mouth feel... see, this is the challenge with vegan food to me... how to make up for the taste and texture requirements where animal-based fats traditionally exist in a recipe.  These folks were super successful doing so.

I had small tastes of what my wife and her sister had ordered.  One of them got soup.  It was good, but could have used more salt. I forget what the other one got... suffice it to say that every bite I had was delicious.  Again, let me repeat... I am NOT vegan.

As for dessert... well, the description doesn't do it justice.  The picture doesn't either, but here it is anyway:

Coconut whipped cream... and the texture was fantastic.  Roasted hazelnuts.  Beautiful flowers (yes, I ate them).  Chocolate powder.  Under all of that stuff was this substance that strongly resembled chocolate mousse... turns out they make that with avocado... they need the fat for the right texture... but you couldn't taste avocado, it tasted like chocolate mousse.  This dessert was delicate and flavorful, and I would eat it again any day.

Wonderful food aside, let me tell a brief story about our arrival experience in order to show just how great the folks were here.  The day we had this reservation was our first day in the country, and I made the reservation at a normal French dinner time (read: very late for your average American) in order to force us all to be awake and active all day so we could sleep well that first night and beat the jet lag.  Well, through no fault of my own, we were running quite late to dinner.  No worries, I called the restaurant and told them that we would be late.  See, the restaurants are small, so if someone misses a reservation, that costs them money... they combat this by charging your credit card if you don't show up.  Well, when I called from the phone of the apartment we had rented, I managed to call the wrong location.  They are a small enough business that they could handle this... the very nice lady who I talked to said she would pass the message along.

Fast forward.  We are late, and we take Métro line 12 to Notre-Dame-de-Lorette.  Now, I've been to Paris many times, and know my way around some parts of town very very well... well enough that on more than one occasion, I have been able to give directions to actual French people.  This part of town is not one of the ones I know.  I had never been to this Métro station, nor had I been to this part of the 9th.  When we exit the Métro... chaos.  It's one of those odd French intersections where multiple roads converge in a less-than-logical fashion.  On top of that, there is construction.  On top of that, the street signage leaves much to be desired.  We get lost.  I am not often lost in Paris, so this was frustrating.  We wander one way, and when that clearly is wrong, we wander another way... and then I decide to wander into a local hotel to ask for directions.  The folks in the hotel are not familiar with this restaurant, and are also not familiar with the street it is on... but I was able to point out to them on one of their hotel tourist maps where I thought it was, and they were able to tell us how to walk in that direction.  Ok, finally headed the right way... and from that point, it's only about 15 minutes to get to the place.  We get there, and we are so late... very much later than we had possibly foreseen.  We're so late that they have locked the front door, as they're not letting any more folks into the restaurant.. However, upon seeing us, they open the door and ask if I am Mike.  I say that I am and explain that we got terribly lost getting there on foot, and profusely apologize in the most respectful French I could summon.  The very kind co-owner gentleman who I mentioned before lets a sigh of relief and immediately shows us to the table that had been reserved for us.  We received a fantastically warm welcome.

To sum up... food outstanding, service outstanding, experience unforgettable, you should go here if ever you are in Paris.

Loud as a jet engine being fired up, while also dropping incredibly catchy earworms.  That was Mondolux.

I saw them many times... at Canal Street Tavern, at El Diablo (anyone remember that spot), in a tiny room upstairs at Southgate House.  They were my first live experience with punk-adjacent music.  I say "punk-adjacent" because the songs were generally hooky rock and roll with all kinds of pop sensibilities... just played really really loud and usually rather fast.  Also, recently, I was watching a video of The Clash playing live, and recognized many of the musician stances and mannerisms as something I had seen at Mondolux shows... these guys must have loved The Clash.

Alas, this band is no more... and you can't find a great deal of their music online.  Here is one of my favorite of their songs, called "Memphis Lung".  What's not to like here?  This one has a nifty little swagger to it, a fantastic groove, and Eric Purtle's charisma comes across just fine in this recording... but that's nothing compared to what it was like to see them do this live.

Here's a video taken from one of their live shows.

This song is "TJ Swann", and is on their last album.  A pop song.  Catchy, with the volume cranked.  That was Mondolux.

Elbow - Asleep in the Back

I talked about my most recent live experience with Elbow in a previous blog post.  This is the album that got me hooked on them.

A coworker of mine turned me on to this album in 2001.  This was one of the five compact discs I took with me on my spring 2002 trip to France.  The trip was mostly for a friend's wedding, but I managed to move around a bit while I was in Europe... I had a nice trip out to Chamonix for a couple of days, and also dropped by Bruxelles and Bruges.

I spent plenty of time alone with my thoughts and this record playing in my headphones.  On long train trips... on a lift up a mountain... strolling through the forest a short distance from the Arve.  Really, every time I hear these songs, my brief visit to the Alps comes rushing back.  My favorite track on this album was "Newborn"... and today it is probably a tie between "Newborn" and "Scattered Black and Whites".  Guy Garvey's way of painting a picture, evoking an emotion, harnessing a mood with his lyrics... that's a skill I am attempting to develop.

The first time I saw La Joconde was 1999.  (English speakers generally know her by a different name.)  She was small and dark, but out there in the open, and you could get as close to her as you wanted.  Things have changed... she is still small and dark, but is now protected by some thick glass and special lighting and a railing, and you can't get close anymore.

A couple of years later I wrote a song about her.  By this time, I had learned some rudimentary bass skills, and I wrote a lot of songs.  Most of them were garbage, and were discarded as such.  This one, I liked enough to actually type it and print it... and I wrote the chords on the sheet in pen.  The song didn't have a name at the time.  It disappeared.

Many many years later... in fact, I don't even remember when exactly... at least ten years had passed.... anyway, I was doing some cleaning, and I found this folded up piece of paper.  I unfolded it, and behold!  Lyrics.  Chords noted.  I didn't have a song title, and didn't even remember writing it... but I knew who it was about because I had included an inside joke for myself in the lyrics, calling her "mysteriously jocular", a play on words with her name.  There is only one person I would describe that way.

When I finally got around to making an album, I felt like this song had to be on it.  This is really what drove me to come up with a title.  Why is it called "Every Last Time Is like the First"?  Well, like the lyrics say, I have come around again and again, walking through those marble halls... and she's always there with that sly little smile, surrounded by dozens of people taking pictures with their flashes turned  off.  The last time I saw her was in April.  (This was the first time for my wife.)  I stayed at the back of the crowd, I had no reason to attempt to get close... I'll never be able to get as close as I did the first time I saw her.  But every last time I get some small measure of satisfaction from being back in her home, in her city.