Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

my music

the tyranny of the click

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I have never been good at playing to a click track.

[For non-musicians, a click track is a simple rhythm track that plays in your ear while you record to help you keep time. It can be as simple as a beats-per-minute setting that plays a little “beep” for every passing beat.]

For a long time that was a function of other, more major issues in my guitar playing. I was dropping beats left and right and my strums were like the thrashes of a dying man. Not lining up with clicks was the least of my problems.

I still cannot quite play to a click track, even with half a lifetime to refine my playing. Now my problem is syncopation – I so very rarely strum on all the downbeats the click usually slides away from me as I play.

Why is the click so important?

First, it satisfies the musical leanings of my internal OCD Godzilla, who needs things to be both perfect and perfectly aligned. He does not truck with deviations in speed or rhythm, and has put the nix on many fine solo recordings of mine because they ever-so-slightly sped up.

Second, for flexibility. Overdubbing, stealing riffs for other verses, patching biffed guitar solos, and dance remixes. They’re all easier when a song is recorded to a consistent click track.

Though I still can’t play to basic clicks, after a year of drumming with Zina I have no problems playing to a basic rhythm that sketches in a bit more than just the main beats in a measure. A simple rhythm on my Casio keyboard can now keep my songs in time.

That’s fine for me solo, but what about the entire band?

We’ll find out on Saturday: we have a drum engineering session scheduled with Zina. She’ll record her parts to two Filmstar songs with a metronome playing in-ear, and then we’ll all dub our parts on top of her.

In effect, we’re recording like a real band would record, which makes our house a real recording studio, and me a real recording engineer. Plus, the tracks will be a consistent speed.

OCD Godzilla is incredibly pleased.

Arcati Crisis @ All Fired Up

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Part of the fun of being in a small-time, mostly-acoustic, folk-tinged, dance-rock band is the unusual places we get to play.

I think Saturday’s gig at All Fired Up might be our new current title-holder. We were set up in the middle of a pottery shop, surrounded by shelves of plates, mugs, and the visages of Disney characters. On every side were arts and crafts tables filled with eager painters customizing their pieces.

All Fired Up is a paint-it-yourself pottery shop at 602 Haddon Ave in Collingswood, NJ 08108.

I can’t even think of a runner-up, really (Dorian’s Parlor doesn’t count, since we’d probably have been there anyway even if we weren’t playing).

This was our first outing with Jake on bass, as well as our first time using the new PA system for a show, and our first time playing our new cover, Erasure’s “Respect.”

Oh, and our first time playing a three hour gig in over a year.

Plenty for us to fuck up.

Except, Arcati Crisis has recently entered into a period of ineffable grace… or, at least, unfuck-upable zen. We played all three hours down to the minute, and we played them well.

See that table in the foreground? Imagine that replaced by a hurricane force amount of acoustic rock.

Out of the gate, our “Dumbest Thing I Could Do” finally felt like a real acoustic dance song with Jake’s creeping arpeggiated scale bass line. We reinvented “Real End” yet again, debuting its new upbeat pop take engineered by our drummer Zina. We debuted our Rock Band 3 style “Space Oddity” with each of us singing a different part of the story, and ended on a rather triumphant duo take on “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” Afterwards we gave an impromptu encore supporting Jake when he medleyed into Weezer’s “Say It Ain’t So” from The Wood Brothers’ “Luckiest Man.”

The part I liked the best was our audience. Actually, the lack thereof. Unlike a bar or coffee shop, people don’t come to All Fired Up to spectate – they come to create! At no point were we playing to an attentive audience, because everyone was spread around the shop, busy decorating their various works of pottery.

I actually prefer a busy, captive audience to any other kind. It’s easier to convert strangers who are doing something they enjoy than to pit your sound against jaded ears at an open mic or who are waiting for the next band.

While I love getting our full-scale rock on at a big venue in Philly, I’ll be disappointed if our songs ever grow to the point that we can’t bring them to these unusual spaces.

i love it, it’s perfect, now change

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As I gave Gina and Jake my third “we only have to change this one thing” note on a song last night, I wondered if they were starting to hate me.

I’m always the one giving the most notes in rehearsal, whether it be with AC or Filmstar, so wondering if people hate me isn’t unique just to rehearsing with AC.

Why do I do it? It’s not that I have the best ears – Gina and E are much better than I am. It’s also not that I’m the one not making mistakes – I make plenty, sometimes the most! And, I love getting notes – I’d be happy to get some.

So why am I the one Simon Cowelling at the end of every song?

Mostly, because someone has to do it. That’s not to say that every song requires a critique, but they at least all require a moment of consideration before moving on or else rehearsal turns into going through the motions. If you hear things to tweak while rehearsing and don’t tweak them then you might hear the same thing against next time.

Tweaks aren’t always bad things. Jake plays a lot of high, melodic bass lines in counterpoint to my rhythm guitar work and my backing vocals. Last night I realized this was my “problem” on “Real End” – our parts totally matched, but after years of playing with Gina I wasn’t used to the new harmony they created. The fix is simply us both playing our parts with confidence so they’re distinct from each other.

However, I think the real reason for my litany of notes is that my musical super power doesn’t lie in melody or blend, but in being a fan. I make music that I love to hear. Just like you would know if someone singing your favorite song at karaoke sang the wrong melody, I notice when a song doesn’t sound like itself.

I might not be able to articulate what’s wrong (though I certainly do so better than Randy “Pitchy” Jackson), but that’s why I have bandmates to help me! I simply know when something’s up.

I’m pretty sure that Gina and Jake didn’t leave my house hating me last night, just like I know we managed to make improvements on almost every songs in our repertoire.

How many of those improvements came from my notes? Possibly none, but would we have improved without the notes?

I don’t know.

Making Music Work: Write It Down, Pt. 1

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Keeping track of what we play is a key to getting better, faster … so why do we all avoid doing it?

Every musician wants to improve their craft. That’s why we take lessons, play scales, and rehearse! If there was a secret to saving valuable hours of rehearsal time, we’d all want to know it.

The secret isn’t a secret at all, because the answer is quite simple: write it down.

My songs were scattered across multiple notebooks and sheets of loose paper until 2006, when I organized them into a single database. Fifteen years later you can barely read the penciled lyrics in my 90s notebook.

There is no substitute for having a written record of lyrics, chords, and performance notes on how you play a song. It will help you remember your songs and can lock in all the little touches you’ve added over time.

“But,” you might protest, “I do write things down. I’ve got a notebook of lyrics, plus some files on my laptop, plus loose paper where I’ve jotted down ideas.”

That’s not what I’m talking about. “Write it down” means more than scribbling chords out on cocktail napkins. It’s about being organized. [Read more…] about Making Music Work: Write It Down, Pt. 1

Better (excerpt) – Arcati Crisis, Live @ Rehearsal

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I keep crowing about how we have a new bass player in Arcati Crisis, but what I have been slightly mum on is that Jake the Bassman is also a formidable singer. He was the other baritone in our erstwhile professional acappella group, and one of my go-to companions for heading out to open mic nights.

Gina and I being the hardcore harmony freebasing addicts that we are, it was only a matter of time until we used Jake to upgrade one of our duets to three-part harmony.

Behold, our first successful attempt on “Better,” with harmony as arranged by Arcati Crisis with the help of my dear wife, E:

When I first started learning to play music I had a free guitar tab notation program, and I would spend endless hours entering my favorite songs into it. In many cases I was notating them in ways that would be unplayable by one, two, or even three guitars.

I didn’t care. I wanted to hear the harmony. I would set the midi patch on “vocal oohs” and pretend that a group of singers were crooning the song back at me. How amazing, I thought, that people could make chords with their voices like I do on my guitar.

(This perhaps explains my obsession with acappella groups.)

That version of Peter barely knew what notes were portrayed on a treble clef, and couldn’t hit one if his life depended on it.

Fifteen years later, three part harmony, exactly like my speakers sang to me back in the 90s.

I love making past versions of me proud to be grown up :)