Most Influential Albums: HUM

Yes, this is technically two albums... it isn't a double-album, but for me it might as well have been in the fall of 1998, when I discovered HUM.

The single "Stars" from HUM's previous disk, You'd Prefer an Astronaut, had some airplay on what was just beginning to be dubbed "Modern Rock" radio. I loved "Stars", but the radio personalities in Tulsa never announced who it was. In those days, you couldn't just Shazam your way into knowledge of a cool artist - if someone didn't tell you who made that awesome track blasting your car speakers into oblivion, you just didn't know.

For this reason, when I had time to kill, you could usually find me in a record store listening through all the preview CD kiosks. It took either a very confident or very stupid artist and a label with money to burn to get a CD in one of those headphone-attached CD players welded into the display aisles. The major labels certainly didn't want anyone deciding not to spend their $15 on a CD because they actually got to hear the thing ahead of time. Why, they just might find out the versions of those Poe songs on the radio aren't even ON the stinkin' CD, not to mention her other songs sound like a mental patient found a cheap keyboard and a tape recorder. I did discover a few artists had great albums via those kiosks though. I digress...

HUM's Downward is Heavenward album happened to be in such a kiosk at Blockbuster Music (remember them?) in Tulsa on one of my time-killer excursions. The opening track, "Isle of the Cheetah", has a very long intro. But once I heard Matt Talbot's voice, I knew this was the same band from that single I couldn't trace months before. Nobody sounds like Matt. Nobody. Love his voice or hate it - there's no disputing his uniqueness.

It wasn't just that I found the answer to a music riddle. It wasn't just that these were some stellar musicians playing some cool songs. This was the sound I had been chasing on my own projects for years. Heavy. Super heavy. Spinal damage via your ear canal heavy. But there was no growling, screaming, testosterone overloaded frontman barking about darkness and how he was tougher than death. No fake macho bull to appeal to skinny teenage boys in black t-shirts, just some killer melody lines sung by a guy who was only moderately able to carry a tune. This was space rock of the highest degree.

I had been trying to make music of this sort through a few different bands I was in, but nobody else seemed to get it. HUM was making the albums I wished I could make. So I, of course, bought this album and its predecessor.

Most albums that hit me spend a lot of time on repeat in my CD player (or now, my iPod), and these 2 were no exception. Truly, they drove me to exceed even my normal predisposition for immersing myself in a record. I played these HUM albums constantly. I became certifiably addicted to these disks - I just didn't feel normal unless I was listening to HUM. I never got tired of them, but on rare occasion I desired something softer to fit a different mood I was in, and so I'd spin through Frente's Marvin The Album (a sugary female-fronted Australian pop group my friend Phillip hipped me to) once and then get right back to HUM. This went on for nearly a year.

When I finally recognized how disturbingly fixated I was with these albums, I gave them to a friend for safe keeping to kick my HUM habit back down to a healthy level. If I had ever found like-minded musicians (and a drummer good enough - Bryan St. Pere deserves to be mentioned alongside John Bonham and Dave Grohl as one of the best rock drummers to ever pick up the sticks), I probably would have been very happy playing in a HUM cover band for the rest of my life.

Alas, as with so many of my favorite band's albums, this would be HUM's last. The group was dropped from their label and broke up. I learned that Matt Talbot went on to start his own recording studio in Illinois. So it's no suprise that when it came time for me to produce an album for my then band, Skyblynde, I sought Matt out and booked time at Great Western Record Recorders (now renamed Earth Analog) in Champaign, IL.

That experience is worthy of a blog entry on its own. I returned to Matt's studio to record the drums for the Hello God This is Gregory Hyde album. I've heard few drum tracks from other studios that can compare to the sonic quality of what Matt's live room offers.

I still play these albums often, and each time I wonder to myself, "Why don't I just listen to this every day and ignore everything else on my iPod?" I still have no answer for that question.

Musician Tip #6: Anatomy of a Gig Poster

I've been getting questions about the poster for my upcoming full band show, and it occurred to me that this would make a good blog entry. So here it is. First, the poster:

Now I must give credit where it's due, and this particular design was inspired by Hank III's work with Third Alert Designs. His art is incredible, and I highly recommend you check it out here: Third Alert Designs

Obviously there are major differences in the aesthetic of mine and Hank's work, but that's the point of something being inspired and not ripped off. My cousin, Steve Erwin, an incredible artist, once told me, "All art is either inspired or stolen. The difference being that inspired art is just more ambiguous about where it was stolen from." Great quote, eh?

The things to notice about my poster (as well as many of Hank's):

1) At first glance, you have no freaking clue what this poster is for. Is it a show? Political rally? Anti-Digital Conversion Convention? Neighborhood homeowner's association fed up with the 1970's satellite dishes in that creepy porn-moustache guy's yard? Who knows... this is a good thing. My intent is to peak people's curiosity to actually READ the poster rather than just think, "Another stupid band posing in front of a brick wall trying to get me to go to their show? Pass."

2) There's not much to read. This keeps things simple and easily digestible. Also, the lack of information (What time do they go on? Is there a cover? Is this an all-ages show?) leaves the interested folks with the task of finding out on their own, which usually means contacting the venue, which makes the venue feel confident that there's some buzz about your show.

3) Lastly, it's bold. It will undoubtedly stand out when tacked to a bulletin board, or taped above the club's urinals which are already littered with posters of 40-something guys with skullets in front of a brick wall vying for the same attention. Sometimes bright color overload works for that, sometimes black & white accomplishes it. Contrast and unique imagery does more for you here than anything else.

Got other ideas on what makes a good band poster? Feel free to let me know.

Gig Etiquette Pt. 6: "You Know What You Oughta Do?"

The music industry is unique in many ways. Die of a drug overdose as an accountant or even an actor, and it's regarded as a sad, tragic, wasted life - but a musician? You're now a legend and you get your face on T-shirts at Hot Topic! In no other field can failing to produce any evidence of work for the last 14 years (looking at you, Axl) actually enhance excitement and interest about your endeavors. And in no other field does the mass public automatically assume they have full knowledge of exactly what a professional in that field should do; the subject of this blog entry.

As with other similarly themed blog posts I've done, I realize the good folks taking the time to direct me to the Wonka's golden ticket for riches and fame in the music biz only want me to succeed. However, fielding the same impotent advice night after night gets a little tiring. Normally I just smile, nod, and hope that suffices for a reply... in my mind I'm thinking:

"You should be on iTunes"
- I am, but I don't make a ton of money that way, so I sell downloads on my website too.

"You should go on American Idol!"
- (Click here and read this blog)

"You should get your songs on the radio!"
- (Click here and watch the movie on my home page) It takes a million dollars (approx.) and a label or major management to make that happen with any remote hope of success.

"You should make a viral video!"
- Viral is a term to define what happens AFTER the video is made, controlled entirely by the viewing public. That's like saying I should record a hit song, write a #1-selling book, roll nothing but 7's in Vegas, or campaign successfully for the office of President.

"You should get a manager!"
- Really? Personal manager? Tour manager? Do you know one? Any idea how hard that is? You're making it sound very easy.

"You should get an agent!"
- Booking agent? Publicity agent? Secret service agent? Know a good one, or an attorney who can draw up a contract with one?

"Oooh! Yeah, get an entertainment attorney too!"
- You gonna pay for one? I've dealt with a couple. It was kinda like throwing hundreds of dollars into a garbage disposal except it took hours of calling the garbage disposal and leaving messages for it to start grinding my cash into oblivion.

"Well you could pay for one if you played bigger, better paying shows. You should play Summerfest this year!"
- Gee, why didn't I just decide to play Summerfest, pay an attorney to write up contracts for a team of agents & managers, get my songs on the radio, put my CDs in Best Buy and make a viral video?

Let's think of this in another field.

If someone tells you they're thinking of becoming a lawyer, do you immediately respond with, "Ah - you should pass that BAR exam! And win all your cases!"?

How about if you discover the fella next to you on the plane is an aspiring writer? "You should get your book published! Why haven't you got your books in Barnes & Noble? You should get an editor."

An aspiring underwater welder? "You should master hyperbaric metallurgy and arc techniques!"

I really hope I'm not sounding cynical or vicious here, but I think one could understand how this all seems condescending and implies that I'm either so incompetent or grossly uninformed in my chosen field that I've missed the path to success that is so obvious to nearly every layperson I run into.

You know what you oughta do? Ask questions about what you don't know. You'll get a wealth of information from people who are passionate about what they do, and they'll get to talk about a subject they love. It helps everyone.

Music 101: Pt. 5 - Knowing the Rules of the Roles

As a professional musician who makes most of my income from live performances, I feel compelled to share some essential information about the roles of performers and venues. This could have qualified for a Musician Tip, but it applies to venue owners as well, and it's good info for the mass public, so here it is as the latest "Music 101" entry. If you know a club or venue owner, please pass this along.


Imagine this scenario: Johnny W. Rockstar (the W. stands for Wannabe) is a small-time, local musician. He gets hired by Bud's Beer Barn to play a solo acoustic show on Friday, then Dick's Dumpy Dive on Saturday. Both are live music venues that serve food & drinks. I know this is starting off like one of those screwy "two trains travelling opposite directions" algebra test questions, but hang with me.

#1: What is Johnny W. Rockstar's role?

Entertainment? Yeah, but as a by-product. His ultimate role: alcohol salesman. Johnny's job is to keep people's butts in the seats (or dancing) and buying more beverages. If he were playing stadiums, his role would change to ticket salesman. Without some cash changing hands, he's gonna be stuck playing "Smoke On The Water" in his parent's basement.

#2: Whose fault is it if nobody comes out to the shows?

Johnny's? Only if both venues NORMALLY have good crowds on those nights. If you've never been to Dick's Dumpy Dive (or already don't like it), the add-on of seeing an artist you've never heard of probably isn't going to inspire you to give it a chance come Friday. If those bars normally bring in 100 people on a weekend night, and only 15 show up when Johnny plays, yep - it's Johnny's fault. Otherwise, THE VENUES ARE RESPONSIBLE. Read on...

#3: Whose fault is it if Bud's is filled to capacity on Friday, but Dick's is empty on Saturday?

It's Dick's fault. Dick will whine that Johnny shouldn't have booked those dates so close together, or that he promoted the Bud's show more. But the truth is Johnny's crowd is choosing to attend at the venue they like most. Bud's probably has better drink specials, better food, cleaner bathrooms, nicer staff, etc.

Why do SO many venue owners think like Dick? Because they're ignorant. They look at gigantic artists and stadiums and think the same logic applies on the small scale. If U2 comes to Chicago to play Soldier Field on a Tuesday night, who is 100% responsible for the turnout? U2 is, of course - nobody would be at Soldier Field on a Tuesday otherwise, and you can't see U2 anywhere else.

But if U2 is coming to Chicago and will play 30 different venues over 30 nights, people will buy tickets based on the venue where they want to see them perform. The Soldier Field, Navy Pier, Allstate Arena, and Grant Park shows might sell out, but there will be tickets to spare on the night they play the parking lot next to the county landfill.

So, for 90% of music venues out there: The venue's role is to bring people out, the artist's role is to keep them there.

Musician Tip #5: What I Am Is What I Am...

...are you what you are, or what?

I am a musician. Like all other human beings, musicians come in all shapes and sizes, colors, personalities, tax brackets, and varying degrees of personal hygiene. The constants are a desire to create and possessing the tools of the trade.

If you're a vocalist, your tool is your voice, and you can take your pipes wherever you may roam. The huge upside - they're FREE! But for those of you who either aren't vocalists or lack the rousing, musical bodily functions my grandfather was blessed with, your tool is an external musical instrument. Elementary? Nay, my good sir.

I am astounded by how often I'm approached by well-intentioned attendees at my shows who stumble through a dialog similar to the following:

DUDE: "Great set man - are you looking for a guitarist?"

ME: "Well, I'm always interested to know other musicians. You play guitar?"

DUDE: "Yeah! I love guitar, man. I'm looking for a band to play with, and I think I'd be the perfect guitarist for your songs. I'm thinking about buying this awesome Les Paul at Staff Infection Music."

ME: "So what guitar are you playing now?"

DUDE: "I don't have one. I USED to have this killer Fender Stratocaster that was built by the Archangel Gabriel and given to Jimi Hendrix before he sold it to my dad, but I had to pawn it. It's been a bummer not playing at all for the past 5 years."

ME: (thinking: "You are not a musician. ...and you are a liar. Everybody knows St. Peter built Jimi's guitar.")

Ever have a mechanic shop ask you to bring some tools along so they can fix your car? How about a professional photographer that hasn't owned a camera in the past 3 years? Even beyond those things, music is an art form that sustains musicians - you survive off of it. A drummer I knew who moved into an apartment with thin walls taught himself to play guitar to avoid the constant threats of eviction over the noisy drum kit. Why? He was a musician and was going insane without the cathartic outlet music provided (he kinda went insane anyway, but that's unrelated).

The quality of the tool doesn't even necessarily affect the situation. Some songs that changed the course of popular music were written on department store trinkets. But without at least some sort of instrument to utilize, you are a hobbyist at best and as such shouldn't go around advertising yourself as the next Clapton in the making.

Writers write. Painters paint. Architects design. Actors vote democratic and sleep around a lot. These creations begin within us, but at some point require a physical tool to help communicate the vision to the rest of the world.

Choose your weapon.

Gig Etiquette Pt. 5 - Storytellers

If you know me to any degree, you're well aware that I can talk for hours upon hours about music, musicians, bands, albums, the music industry, instruments, recording techniques, music history, etc. If you start me up, I'll never stop (thanks, Mick).

However, time and place are important factors. I openly invite anyone and everyone to chat me up before or after a show, and I'm almost always happy to have a quick exchange with fans, friends, or both between songs in a set (if it's a QUICK exchange clocking in well under 5 minutes, not a recitation of Homer's The Iliad) and provided it doesn't happen between every other song I play.

Content is also important.

GOOD: You drove here from a state away? That's awesome! You rock, and I'm glad to meet ya.

BAD: The girl over there likes me? Thanks, but I'm very happily married. Yes, I am. Yes, I really am. I AM telling the truth. No, I'm not just saying that because your friend looks too nerdy. I didn't say she looked nerdy, you did - I was just repeating you. No, it wouldn't change things if she wasn't wearing those glasses. Please go sit down.

GOOD: You recognized the Over the Rhine song I threw in? Glad you enjoyed it, and you have exquisite taste in music, sir (or ma'am).

BAD: You saw the Rolling Stones on their last tour? Hmmm... so did 2 million other people. They tour all the time. I'm not sure why you needed to stop the show to tell me that. I haven't played a Stones song all night. Is this a request? I have a Yorkshire Terrier. Is that of interest to you?

Beyond that, frequency is the final element to be mindful of. I already mentioned the "Oh, he just ended another song... must be time to go talk to him again" issue, but try and keep track of who you've told your story to. You got drunk in Minneapolis and somehow bumped into Prince, got nervous and puked all over him, only to laugh hysterically when you saw it was purple? Awesome story... the first 12 times. Now it's just kinda annoying (and a biohazard now that I think about it).

So tell me what's on your mind. But keep it brief, on topic, and timed properly.

Where Ya Been?

"Hey Gregory, why so long since you've posted a new blog article?"

ANSWER:


New posts coming soon...

Most Influential Albums: Queen - Flash Gordon Soundtrack

My first childhood memories are of my brother, Chris, and I teaming up with Todd and Wade (our same-aged next-door neighbors) to battle Darth Vader and the Empire, wage war against the opposing yard with “dirt clods” (handfuls of packed, drying Oklahoma mud), or engaging in our favorite pastime; reenacting Flash Gordon. Not the comic or black-and-white serial from the 1930’s, but the full-on camp of the 1980 film with Sam Jones.

“Fans” would be too conservative a description. We were rabid, addicted Flash Gordon zealots. If we weren’t watching it (time registers much differently at that age, but it seemed it was on HBO every day), we were turning swing sets into space ships, sand boxes into alien swamp pits, and big wheels into rocket cycles. Offers to ride along on shopping trips were declined, excursions to the park or zoo were bailed on, and quite a few meals were even missed solely for the sake of being able to once again join forces to destroy the evil Mungo minions and their ruthless, alien tyrant of a leader, Ming the Merciless.

It’s interesting that we never chose one of us to play Ming. He was always just an invisible evil. At that age, too young to yet know all the injustice and cruelty in the real world, Ming was the worst thing my naive, still-forming mind could conjure. Anyone who wanted to kill innocent people and damage the earth MUST be an insane, goatee-sporting alien from light-years away. Everybody on earth was one of the “good guys”, everywhere I could go was safe, and all was right with the world – the “world” being my one little block in Jenks, America. And as for Ming, why worry? We’ve got Flash on our side.

My dad bought us the Flash Gordon soundtrack, written and performed by Queen, on vinyl (which I still have) and transferred a copy to cassette tape so we could rock out to it in the car. This started a trend which later included the soundtracks for Star Wars and a couple of the Rocky movies. But this is truly the first album I ever owned or remember hearing.

I always eagerly anticipated a part in the song “Hero” - the thunderous, impacting tom hits when the band comes in full-force. Not having ever seen a drum kit, I thought they had to be hammers hitting metal. My pulse surged every time I heard those bombastic impacts. I felt electrified, exhilarated, and a little frightened all in the same moment. Thus began my love of enormous rock drum sounds.

The soundtrack is peppered with sound clips from the movie, which is engaging on so many completely different levels. Awkward, annoying, thrilling, laughable, yet inspiring the voice-overs may be, but the music just plain rocks. Queen was killer, and Brian May is a genius. No, really. The guy has an astrophysics PHD. Look it up. His composing and guitar skills are out of this world (pun intended), and a couple of the songs represented here are among Queen's best in my opinion.

This album is awesome. For sentimental reasons as well as audio content, it will always be a fave of mine.

Don't own it yet? Listen and buy it here:

  

Musician Tip #4: Community Gear

As a musician, you will very likely come into a situation where you're playing a show with gear, often owned by the venue or sound company, which is used by other musicians. Your treatment of this equipment is directly related to how much of an inbred ditch pig other musicians consider you to be.

If you were paying attention in Kindergarten, you understand that you should put things back in their place when you're done with them. You should also take care of other people's things as if they were your own. Though if you are a slobby-slob and, let's face it, as a musician... you probably are, you should treat other people's things as if said people have the ability to psychically flip your nipples inside-out at will.

So you broke a guitar string and had to do a lightning-fast restring on the spot? That happens. But the sin of leaving your left-over string clippings on the stage is cardinal. You would understand this if you've ever innocently reached down to pick up a cable on a dark stage only to have the needle-sharp end of a high E string stab an inch deep into the skin underneath your fingernail.

To the gents who feel the need to tighten the joints on an ADJUSTABLE microphone stand to somewhere in the neighborhood of 35,000 ft-lbs of torque: not a single person is impressed with your strength. It's not terribly difficult to lock those stands up. It is, however, difficult to not be considered a raging twit for ruining the very feature that made that stand an attractive purchase in the first place. Also, the carpal tunnel fairy will be visiting you soon.

On a somewhat related note, don't touch that button on the mixer marked "phantom power" unless you actually know what it does. There's a 99% chance you're singing/playing into a Shure SM-58 or SM-57, both of which are dynamic mics. Don't know the difference between a dynamic or condenser mic? Leave the phantom power button alone. You can even damage certain types of mics by engaging the phantom power. So unless you want the next act who takes the stage to realize what a total noob you are, no touchy.

So do everyone (including yourself) a favor and be kind to the equipment on stage. The next guy on stage after you just might be me...

Most Influential Albums: Stone Temple Pilots - Core

This was the first CD I ever bought.

I purchased this album the day Jurassic Park was released in theaters - June 11, 1993. My brother Chris, my buddy Dustin Keith, and I were planning to see that Cretaceous blockbuster flick and had time to kill. Earlier in the day, Chris drove Dustin and I to a guy's house to buy some comic books the fella needed to unload for monetary reasons. I still have those comics, including a copy of X-Men #1 autographed by Jim Lee - and am hoping all the other kid's moms threw their comic mags away while they were off at college so mine will actually be worth something significant one day. But I digress...

That summer, for a few months previous, my brother and I had been flipping out over this song that would play on the radio as we drove home from church on Wednesday nights. Windows down (the A/C was busted), radio blaring, American-made Ford steel creaking as we hurled ourselves at breakneck speed down I-44 in Tulsa listening to this song. We strongly suspected it was Pearl Jam, but the chorus had no lyrical hook, so it was anyone's guess to what the title was, and it wouldn't have helped guessing since the word "Plush" is never uttered in the song.

I eventually heard a radio personality (this was the era of the death of the real D.J.'s) announce the name of the group. I think I called a record store and asked if they had the "Stone Tower Captains" album or something along those lines. No dice.

But on that fateful day when we were killing time at Tulsa's Promenade mall before watching dinosaurs killing Samuel Jackson and eating Newman from Seinfeld, I saw the cover of this album in the CD bin at Camelot Music (a terribly overpriced precursor to FYE and those other vile mall music shops). Stone Temple Pilots... THAT'S what they were called. My brother had recently acquired an archaic CD player from a kid at school, so I opted for the CD instead of the usual cassette tape. It was 1993 - this was the freakin' future, man.

The album itself doesn't offer up much in the way of surprises, but what it does, it does REALLY well. It's a heavy, rocking collection of grunge-inspired, heroin-fueled angst. The raw, biting attitude is expected, as are the vague, surreal "what does it mean to you?" lyrics. But the band is locked in within nanoseconds of each other, the production quality and sonic clarity are outstanding (Brendan O'Brien, my fave producer, was at the helm), and Scott Weiland's voice never sounded better. My guess is he hadn't yet cocaine-carved his septum into a Grand Canyon diorama. Also, Dean DeLeo's chord usage is a master-lesson in songwriting.

"Dead and Bloated" kicks off the album. Not just kicks, but drop-kicks with atom bombs strapped to its boots. Groove like that is hard to find. For some reason, most drummers seem to hate Eric Kretz - I have no idea why since he's better than most of the guys in the game. True, he's never flashy, but in the departments of groove and feel, he's over-stocked. Other highlights are the radio staples "Wicked Garden", "Sex Type Thing", the groove-o-saurus "Where The River Goes", and my fave "Crackerman".

Listening to this CD as often as I did got my mind leaning more creatively towards song structures and chord progressions. It also gave a bit of inspiration to my dying my hair fire-engine red (as Scott's was in the video for "Plush") several years later.

Don't own it? Listen and buy it here:

  

Music 101: Pt. 4 - American Idol

"The contestants on American Idol are to musicians what meth dealers are to pharmacists."
- Gregory Hyde

I get asked quite often why I don't try out for American Idol. I usually try to be polite in responding with "It's just not my scene". The person asking is, after all, insinuating I'm good enough to excel as a singer against the stiff competition these shows offer. That's a compliment in my book, so I try to leave it at that. But for you who would like a deeper look into why I would light my eyeballs on fire before joining the Idol elite, read on.

My quote above holds true, I feel, in almost all aspects. Being a meth dealer, as well as an Idol finalist, requires some serious skill. With both, if you're not accomplished at the techniques of your trade or have at least some ability to market yourself, you'll destroy your career before it ever gets started (and your mobile home along with it in the case of the meth dealer).

The Idol shows aren't just the get-rich-quick scheme for a bona fide music career. It's something else entirely; just as with meth dealers - killing off the very people & industry that support your endeavor. In fact, getting rich AT ALL, much less get-rich-quick, is a long shot for these shows. If you're even a finalist on these programs, you're roped into a contract with the corporation that produces them. You think they're gonna pay you a "fair" wage? Think again. Even guys like Green Day or Justin Timberlake are barely making more than 2 or 3% on every album they sell. Yes, the cut performers get from major labels really is that terrible, but that's another blog post... the likelihood that they'll offer anything close to this for an Idol winner or finalist is nil.

What about writing? Writers make more money right? Heck yes they do. That's why singers & performers keep edging in to take writing credits they don't deserve (yep, it happens all the time. Yet another blog post...). The Idol winners write their own songs on their CDs, right? Heck no they don't.

The reason why goes hand in hand with the direction of the Idol winner's career in general. You win and you're essentially a product owned by this massive corporation. This corporation is a public company that has shareholders that want to see the stock rising each quarter. Do you think this multi-billion dollar machine is going to drop millions on this album's production and marketing and then hand the reins over to a 17 year old girl from Alabama just because she won a singing contest? Don't think so. The label has a stable of hit-making songwriters at their disposal, plus thousands of competent writers vying for a shot to get their song on one of these albums. Do you think they're gonna let Suzy Idolwinner write her own stuff over these guys? I don't care if she made Ellen dance on Randy's lap... the answer is emphatically no.

You don't want to make the worst movie in history? Too bad Kelly Clarkson, you're required to be in "From Justin to Kelly" and you better not say anything bad about it at the junkets or we'll sue your Cinderella-story butt back to Nowheresville, USA.

So what's the draw? Why do people keep going on these shows, barring ignorance of these details, of course? Well, out of the rich & famous expectation, fame is still on the table. People will know who you are and, for a little while at least, might even care enough to listen (but maybe not, right Ruben?). That's worth something, no doubt, but the question is whether the cost isn't too high.

For me, the cons simply outweigh the pros. I prefer having control of my art, career, and income stream. Having the freedom to create for the sake of the creation rather than what a corporate CEO thinks will sell, and not ever having to perform a smiling, group sing-a-long while butchering a Queen song for a Ford Focus commercial are all luxuries that I simply can't live without.

But don't get me wrong - I don't detest these shows. There's some grandiose entertainment value in the try-outs when people sing like Helen Keller praying in tongues, get an honest review, and then run out crying, "I gonna be bigger than all a yall's!!!"

More importantly, these shows have fostered the notion in the masses that there is a wealth of undiscovered talent out there. The guy on the train next to you might be a much better singer and songwriter than John Mayer - who knows? The band in the bar you're going to tonight just might be the most incredible group you've seen in years. Gone is the mindset that if you aren't on the radio or on the t.v., you must not be that good. For this, I can't thank these shows enough.

Most Influential Albums: The Beatles - Magical Mystery Tour

Roll up, roll up for the Magical Mystery Tour, step right this way!

Technically not an intended 'album' per se, this was more a collection of previously released singles tacked on with tunes for the movie soundtrack of the same name by The Beatles.

"But Gregory, you love the Beatles. Can't we just assume you'd post all of their albums in your Most Influential section of the blog and move along?"

Not so. Believe it or not, I don't love every Beatles album (gasp!). True story.

The White Album, monumental success though it may be, seems to me a scattered mess of about 7 great songs clustered into a collection with several decent tunes, a little album filler, and a few outright junk songs. Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band is about the same. Many consider this blasphemy, but I'm just calling it as I see (hear) it. You really shouldn't let it ruin your day though...

But not Magical Mystery Tour, no sir. These songs are bulletproof from front to back. Many of these songs are worth the price of the album all by themselves. There never was or will be anything like "I Am The Walrus", there will probably never be better feel-good pop songs than "Hello Goodbye" and "Your Mother Should Know", no better trippy songs than "Strawberry Fields Forever" and "Magical Mystery Tour", and nothing that sums up life quite as well as "All You Need Is Love".

Regardless of how this collection came together, it bears a more concise, air-tight structure than most intended albums ever get close to possessing.

And for all the Ringo haters out there, you simply must listen to the opening track - his ability to move the song through so many tempos, turnarounds, and feels without ever losing the vibe is jaw-dropping.

So throw on an animal suit, make a withdrawal from the zoo, give Poe a kick on your way up the hill from Penny Lane, and throw this CD in the player.

Don't own it yet? Buy it here:

Gig Etiquette Pt. 4 - Clapping

This is not a blog post about applause.

This post is about clapping along with the music, or rather clapping despite the music, without any concept of rhythm as the world knows it.

Check out the video for a real-world example of what I'm talking about.

Clapping along is almost always encouraged at my shows. If you dig the music so much that you just gotta put your hands together (Prince told me to!!!), make sure you have some sense of where the beat is.



This check list just may save your life and the ears of those around you:

* Look around - is anyone else clapping with you? It's okay to give them a few beats to jump in. If not, STOP CLAPPING.

* So other people are clapping - woohoo! The party is almost started. Are you clapping your hands together at the exact time, over and over, as they are? Ya might want to compare with 2 or more folks as the person next to you may be cursed with white-boy rhythm too. If you aren't on the money with somebody on every single clap, STOP CLAPPING.

* If this still doesn't tame that dancing devil inside you and you simply MUST clap to the beat of your own one-armed drummer, do so quietly. It seems these folks that God assembled without a metronome like to clap louder than thunder (again, see video). You're throwing the band off, sweetheart.

I often wonder if these people recited their ABC's or counted to 10 off time. How is that possible? "One, two, three... four... ... fivesixseven... eight, nine,... aaaaaaaand ten."

If these points don't apply to you, Congratulations. Give yourself a hand...

...in 7/4 time at 73 BPM.

Musician Tip #3: Volume

"This one goes to eleven..."

Yeah, but should it?

I do believe that good music should be played loud, and that it sounds better when it is loud. However, a guaranteed way to make fast friends or enemies out of the venue, host, or even the audience themselves, has to do with your volume setting and - more importantly - your willingness to adjust it.

I've been told the same tale by venue owners/workers and live show enthusiasts alike of artists or groups that played so loud the audience actually left or moved to the complete other side of the venue. This could easily turn into psychoanalysis... Why would anyone ever feel the need to be so loud that they actually chased off their own audience? This won't make your father love you or bring that pet goldfish you washed down the sink at age 4 (Captain Awesome) back to life.

Why would the volume that the crowd hears matter to someone on the stage, where you're likely using monitors of your own? My only guesses are that:

A) You think by being louder than Gilbert Godfrey giving a play-by-play at Pearl Harbor you'll destroy all other distractions and the audience will have no choice but to focus on you. Keep in mind they're bipeds and as such can transport themselves away from you to continue their discussion elsewhere on how little the world would change if the Kardashians never existed.

B) Delusions of Grandeur. "When I saw Mötley Crüe in '86, they made the speaker's ears bleed, dude!" Big, loud rock shows can be fun. Trying to squeeze one into a nightclub or a restaurant bar is like squeezing Oprah into Barbie doll outfits: It won't work, and it's honestly uncomfortable to even be in the same room with it.

C) You're old and your hearing is shot.

Yeah, you might think it saps some of the intensity out of the show. I've had to play my share of gigs where I was asked to turn down below nursing-home level... but I got paid for the gig and received a lot of compliments from those people with eggshell eardrums. That's what they wanted, that's what they paid for, so that's what they got.

There are exceptions. Years ago, I started a show at a venue that was empty when 2 old women strolled in for a drink. They sat right next to me (this place was HUGE - empty seats and booths everywhere), then called the manager over to complain about my volume level. The word moron does come to mind.

You wouldn't believe how laid-back and supportive a venue owner will be when you simply state up front that you'll gladly adjust your volume to whatever level he'd prefer. When I started doing this, the requests for me to lower my volume almost disappeared. Some guys just like to know they're running the show - so tell them up front and they'll have no reason to push the point with you later.

Influential Albums: Dishwalla - And You Think You Know What Life's About

In August of 1998, I was driving down the road and heard a song on the radio. Instantly, I knew it had to be the voice of J.R. Richards, vocalist for Dishwalla. I nearly drove into oncoming traffic as I madly reached for the volume control to crank their new song, "Once In a While".

I discovered Dishwalla when they opened for Letters To Cleo at The Cain's Ballroom in Tulsa on their previous album's tour. I tried turning everyone on to the goodness that was Dishwalla's Pet Your Friends album. These failed converts scoffed, made fun of the band name (you expect me to listen to a band called Dishwater??!), laughed at the album title, and refused to even listen to the CD. About a year later, "Counting Blue Cars" was all over the radio, and the schmucks who so smarmily mocked this group became instant fans. This happened A LOT back then... (sigh)

So their sophomore effort was finally going to be unleashed on the mass public. I drove to a nearby Barnes & Noble and found out they already received a shipment of the new Dishwalla CDs prior to the release date. I somehow convinced them to sell me one ahead of time. I'm crafty like that...

So to home I went, shut my bedroom door, turned out the lights (it now being nighttime), and immersed myself into this album - a large, cheshire-cat grin plastered across my face throughout. I listened again... and again... until it was about 2:00 a.m., at which point I called my bud Matt to inform him I was in the possession of the coolest freaking album that had come out in years. He was less than thrilled to hear the news.

Given the history of my Dishwalla-pitching in the past, most of my friends jumped on board with this album, though none quite as whole-heartedly as myself.

If you want to talk about emotional / musical roller-coaster albums, this one deserves more than a nod. It runs the gamut of pulse-pounding anthems, introspective heartache ("Until I Wake Up" makes my soul hurt - and is well worth the price of the entire album), and mysterious, groove-laden, coolsville trip-rock. In fact, the last 2 songs on the CD barely sound like they were recorded by the same band, yet they work perfectly to give you a breath right when needed and complement the brain burn the earlier songs on the album give.

Due largely in part to the production style, the album is bright, brash and almost harsh at points, granting the guitars Rodney Browning plays through his Bogner amp a particularly severe bite and intensity not heard on many other disks. Samples and loops weave seamlessly in and out without taking away from the raw, rock asthetic of the band. Drummer George Pendergast's unique style and creative techniques lend the songs more musicality than most drummers can muster.

The musicianship of this band is stellar. The songs are outstanding. If I could trade my voice for anyone's it would be J.R. Richards. And it has one of the best album titles ever.

And You Think You Know What Life's About...

Don't own it yet? Listen & buy your copy here:

  

Music 101: Pt. 3 - There Is No Such Thing as Christian Music

"So is this Christian music?"

I was asked this question about my projects / albums long before I put humanity's most popularly accepted & recognized deity in the title of my latest album. But the question keeps coming, so I thought it was time to express my thoughts on the subject here:

I'm a Christian. I try my best to follow Christ's teachings, though I obviously fail constantly. I am also a rock musician. Personally, I don't think these things are mutually exclusive.

I play music at church, at my house, in bars, at parties, at concerts, etc. - and I truly feel it's what God has called me to do even though many of my songs have no direct lyrical reference to spiritual matters. But as for Christian Music, I disagree that it exists.

When people refer to 'Christian Music', it is better defined as 'The Christian Music Industry'. As the name implies, it's a business created by human beings for the purpose of commerce of art separated into a faith-based market niche. The motivations behind it are as numerous as the people involved, ranging from saintly to sadistic.

I have a large collection of albums released from Christian labels, and thoroughly LOVE many of them. I think supplying the world with uplifting music is a great thing to do with your life and career, so please don't take the following to be a criticism of individuals or the genre as a whole. Rather, I just want to express my concerns against blanket judgments of art & music based on this term.

There are songs that glorify and praise God, songs that directly blaspheme and mock God, and songs that do neither of the above. Songs are without will. People on the other hand...

Here are some hypothetical scenarios I used for thinking this through:

A) Marilyn Manson writes a song claiming he is Jesus Christ, which he recorded while hanging upside down on a black crucifix, drenched in pigs blood, in a Jewish cemetery. Later, Michael W. Smith (a popular Christian artist) does a cover of it. Is it Christian music now?

B) Good ol' Marilyn does a note-for-note, line-by-line cover rendition of "Amazing Grace" on his new album with the London Symphony Orchestra. It's so illustriously beautiful, it moves the pope to tears before he finds out who recorded it. Does this glorify or blaspheme God? Is it Christian music?

C) Michael W. Smith writes a song about his favorite flavor of ice cream and sings it in church. Christian music or just a song? Is God mad or just happy that Mikey enjoys Triple Butterscotch Ripple so much?

D) A well-intentioned Christian musician writes and records a song that becomes a major hit on Christian radio, though in reality the concept or lyric is the antithesis of something taught in Scripture. Is it anti-Christian music?

E) Ozzy Osbourne dedicates his life to Christ and begins a recording career with a Christian music label. Is "Bark at the Moon" now a Christian album?

F) Michael W. Smith denounces Christ, joins a Yak-molesting cult, and starts releasing albums which worship Tralfarganom, Creator of All Things Slightly Off-White. Is Mike's back catalog of songs no longer worshipful to God? Want to take bets on whether or not Family Christian Book Stores would yank his albums off the shelves?



Scenario D (which happens way too often, BTW) also brings to light another issue. If you want to preach to a congregation or start a church, it's standard practice that you attend a seminary, be mentored by another minister, or obtain an ordination of some kind. Yet anybody with a microphone and a claim to have heard the call can seemingly jump on stage and spout their own brand of cultish religion without much, if any, contradiction. Many people are so militant about only exposing themselves to "Christian music" that they overlook they fact that it sometimes directly contradicts their beliefs more than some of what they consider to be "secular" music.

Also interesting is the lack of denominational attention to detail. Personally, I am ALL FOR breaking down the barriers between denominations and unifying in our common goals and ideals as Christ-followers. But it truly baffled me when a Southern Baptist Christian youth group I knew of was in attendance at a concert, bobbing their heads to their favorite Christian band, which happened to be a Spirit-filled, tongue-talking (therefore hell-bound by their interpretation) band from Georgia. That detail is conveniently omitted from most group's songs and even public lives. Why? You lose album sales. Is that what would motivate Christ?

Would it bother you if Jars of Clay were Methodists? How about if you discovered Third Day or The Newsboys leaned more toward the homosexual-endorsing side of the Episcopalian Church than the Assemblies of God denomination? Would they still be "Christian" music to you?

Lest I need say more (you're gonna love this)...

Testamints. Go to a Christian Bookstore and you'll likely see these in the checkout line. Christian mints. They have Bible verses included and even sport little crosses on them. So does that make Certs secular mints? Which breath-freshener would Christ choose?

If you're not seeing how ridiculous this is, then where do you draw the line with "Jesus Junk"? If songs are either Christian or secular, what about instrumentals? Jingles? A tune you make up and hum in your car on the way to work? Are there Christian guitars? If a novel is Christian or secular, what about children's books? Anecdotes? Memos? Notes on the fridge? Can you have Christian or secular pens? Cars? Clothes? Hairspray? Or is it all just labeling and marketing?

People can make the decision to accept and follow Christ. Nothing else can. Judge what you like and accept on the merits of content and creativity, not a label.

Gig Etiquette Pt. 3 - Appreciation (ahem... Tipping)

Johnny Loungesinger just played your favorite song of all time and rocked it even harder than Billy Squier and Pat Boone put together with The News as their backup band. Wow.

So how do you show your appreciation? Clapping is good. Screaming his name and "WE LOVE YOU!!!" might get good or bad results depending on the performer, venue setting, or the sensitivity of the audience members around you. But tipping is arguably the highest form of praise for a local, live performer.

You might think this topic seems like something that needs no instruction, but you'd be wronger than a nonexistent tense of the word wrong.

1. No Requirement - This ain't the waitstaff. If you think the band blows, keep your dough. Don't feel bad about it. Still try to be polite though.

2. No Pantomimes - so you're low on cash and didn't expect your date to order the lobster-stuffed duck, only carry credit/debit cards, or maybe you don't want to part with your last $2 bill. These things happen.

Doing the overacted pat down of your pockets and conjuring up a "darn... sorry!" expression isn't necessary. In fact, it can be a little patronizing and insulting. Just say, "Thanks, I enjoyed the music/show/cat-juggling" (which is a rewarding compliment to get in its own way), and move along. Even better - tell the manager (and others) that you really dig the performer.

3. Delivery - if the show is still going, put it in the jar. No jar? Just place it on a flat surface near the performer. If you prefer to hand it directly to someone, just do so in between songs or after the show is over and everything's groovy, baby. NOTE: Trying to hand a dollar bill to a guy playing guitar and then acting like HE'S a jerk for not sprouting a 3rd arm to take it is a stupidity crime worthy of brain reassignment.

4. Advertisements - Yeah, you can drop a business card in with your tip. Can't speak for everyone, but I'll check it out. But don't just drop in a fold-out ad of the multi-level marketing scam that isn't a multi-level marketing scam (really!) you're recruiting for.

5. Amount - Locales and cultures often have their own norms for tipping, so use your best judgment. If this is the best show you've seen in months, or you really want to help and support this performer's career, compensate accordingly. If you're an annoyingly drunk close-talker, go metric with this number (double it & add 30).

Influential Albums: The Beatles - Abbey Road

Of course.

This album is a classic for a very, very good reason: It's one of the best collections of songs ever recorded.

Though there may be certain songs on other albums by The Beatles that have a more sentimental place than some tracks on this record, Abbey Road is possibly my favorite album by the Fab Four for a few reasons, but particularly for its versatility.

I always keep this album in mind when I start thinking my songs are too sporadic and unconnected. Those qualities are what make this album so endearing; so engaging through every single track. I usually hate "desert island" hypotheticals, but I think this just might be my desert island album of all time for that very reason.

Abbey Road has it all: Cool, vibing songs. Fun, upbeat, silly songs. Love songs that define the genre. Trippy, psychadelia-influence. Ballads that lull you into waking dreams. Grand, illustrious, orchestral masterpieces. Intense, brazen rock. All performed by some musicians at the peak of their abilities and creativity, overflowing with emotion throughout. The tensions that were coming to a head with the group at this time catapulted this, their final album, all the way to the bleedin' moon and back.

The recording quality is also the tip-top of what George Martin and the lads achieved. George's guitar tone on "Something" is outstandingly warm. Ringo's tea-towel muffled drums are like being punched with a 10-story tall balloon. Paul's bass is just Paul's bass... it always sounds that freakin' good, nothing new.

George really swung for the fences with "Something" and "Here Comes The Sun" and (in my mind) proved himself capable of being every bit as much a songwriting powerhouse as Lennon/McCartney. Sadly, I don't think he maintained that edge without said tensions driving him to compete on that level.

There's undoubtedly never been a better swan song for a group. Up to the blistering rock solos that Paul, George, and John play that build the calamity up to let you softly down on the scripture-esque "The End". I cried the first time I heard the whole thing front to back.

If I put out songs the caliber of "Come Together", "Something", "Here Comes the Sun", "Because", and the closing half of this record all on one album... well I might just have to call it a day too. How could they top Abbey Road? Simple. They didn't. (sigh)

Don't own it yet? Buy it here:

Music 101: Pt. 2 - Avoid Blind Allegiance.

So you loved the first album - it changed your life. The second album was pretty good. But now that this artist/band is 10 disks deep in their catalog, your once favorite performer of all time seems to be taking a tire iron to that once mighty, though now thoroughly deceased, artistic steed.

It's O.K.

You can call it like it is. It's all right to not like every single stinkin' thing an artist or group releases. You no longer have to pretend that each new Radiohead album is even half as good as The Bends or O.K. Computer. Fret not - admitting that the new Pearl Jam album is a festering pile of phoned-in, mediocre, pretentious upchuck doesn't make Ten any less of a monumental achievement of musical greatness. Van Halen was outstanding. Van Halen III is one of the worst things you could ever put in your ears.

It's O.K.

In a related manner, it's no disrespect to the greats that their kids didn't get the goods passed down. Yes, John Lennon was brilliant. It's not blasphemy to admit that Yoko and Sean consistently put out audible dingo feces (though Julian certainly had a few fine moments). Sting - also brilliant, but stating the obvious that his son's band, Fiction Plane, is suited more for torturing enemies of the state than for entertaining the crowd before a concert by The Police... well that's just good old common sense. You can still love "Every Breath You Take".

It's O.K.

Like what you like. Admit what you like. Admit what you don't. Be a fan of good music, not a mindless cult member who nods in lobotomized agreement with whatever an artist does.

Influential Albums: Veruca Salt - American Thighs

Words can't express how much I love this album. But I'm gonna try...

Back in 1995 I was hanging out at my buddy Mark's apartment and the video for "Seether" came on MTV (they used to actually play music videos back then). I was entranced. The other guys in the room were making fun of me for being so enraptured by these weird, nerd girls in slips eating ground up, raw meat out of dismembered baby dolls and occasionally singing like they had sucked in helium. I didn't care. This was awesome.

A week later, I developed a pretty serious case of bronchitis. My grandmother drove me to the doctor, and on the trip back home, she agreed to let me stop off at Media Play (a store which I sorely miss... they started an incredible CD price war in Tulsa with Best Buy around that time which drove all the CD prices down to $9). I was praying the album cover wouldn't look anything like the video, or there would be no chance I'd be able to buy it without a long lecture. Fortunately, the cover was tame, so she actually paid for it (thanks, G-ma), and I headed home and popped on the headphones while I played video games and hacked my lungs up.

I probably heard this entire disk more than 20 times that day. I was HOOKED. The playing is sloppy in all the right ways, impacting, gritty, yet with moments of elegance here and there. This was grunge, yeah, but a far cry from the Seattle thing, and with much more creativity than just 3 chords and screaming about angst, apathy, and heroin.

The recording quality is stellar. This is another one of my stereo test CDs. The low end on the bass is appendix-shaking, and the crisp, brilliant highs on the ride cymbal bell takes you to the other end of the sonic spectrum.

There are some who will say "But Gregory, they were just ripping off the Breeders!". Kinda true... also like saying Guns 'N Roses ripped off L.A. Guns. It's the same sound, but in my humble opinion, The Breeders had a formula that they really couldn't see or reach the potential of. Veruca Salt was somehow able to construct skyscrapers off of a blueprint The Breeders were using to build dog houses. Plus, Nina and Louise were waaaaay cuter. :)

Every single time this album cues up with that fuzzed-out midrange heavy guitar and "I'm spinning out..." on "Get Back", it's like the climb up on the first big drop of a rollercoaster. The album just rolls from there. "All Hail Me" still creeps me out. I still rewind the scream at the beginning of "Seether" multiple times before I let the rest of the song play. I still sing at the top of my lungs with the whoa-ohs at the end of "Spiderman '79". The harmony parts throughout the album are breath-taking, and the lyrics on all the songs, but especially "Wolf", "Sleeping Where I Want", and "Celebrate You" still conjure up such vivid, demented imagery... I will adore this album for all time.

And if anyone out there knows how to get the guitar sound on the lead that plays out at the end of "25", please let me know.

Don't own it yet? Listen and buy it here: