The Anguish of the SLoT

I first ran across the SLoT when their latest album, "Break The Code" showed up in the "New Loud Rock" bin at KGLT. I hadn't heard of them previously but I'm religious about previewing all the new albums in my part of the archives. I popped the disc into a player and took a listen. At first I wasn't sure; often guttural vocals are a negative factor for me and the opening sections of various songs made it clear that gutturals are significant part of the SLoT's repertoire. But the music kept me listening long enough that I reached a section where Dariya Stavrovich's vocals kick in.

Oh my, that settled things. I honestly don't think I've ever heard anyone that can express sheer anguish the way Dariya does. She can sing her heart out as well but it's the emotional outpouring that channels through her vocals that really sets them apart. Sebastian Bach was able to do that, particularly on Skid Row's second ("Slave To The Grind") and third albums ("Subhuman Race"). The appeal is similar in that both vocalists balance melody and outright scream but I get even more of the pure anguish from Dariya.

I suspect many of you have never heard of the SLoT. I hadn't until a few months ago. If not, you've gotta give their music a spin and make sure you listen to "Bullet", "Lego" and "Vamp" all the way through the choruses. If that's not anguish embodied, I'm not sure what is. I don't know if I'll get to see the SLoT live but I am hopeful that they will grow their influence worldwide and tour here in North America soon. They are a band that I'd happily travel miles to see. Maybe I'll see you at one of their shows...

That's friendship

Over the last week or so I've had a series of experiences that have me thinking a great deal about friendship. I am not a social butterfly; I tend to seek out close, long-term friendships and value the depth and commitment that goes along with them. For many years in the Bay Area I was surrounded by long-term friends that were nearby. Many of my friends had remained in the Bay Area and were conveniently located, even if we only saw each other a few times a year. Over time, though, some of my closest friends started migrating away, some to Oregon, some to North Carolina and then my family and I moved to Bozeman. That put a much greater distance between us and our long-term friends.

This week I was reminded that what I value in friendship continues despite the distances separating me from my friends. The other night I did my fund drive show for KGLT. My wife, Nancy, and my kids, Kiley and Zane, all helped me in the studio and, despite my graveyard shift, we all had a great time. All of our pledge calls came from friends and family and that contributed in a big way to how much fun the show was for us. My parents called from Berkeley, CA; we had friends call from Washington, Oregon and right here in Bozeman. Every one of those calls came from people we love talking to and who define what friendship means to me.

Today I was thinking about the key ingredients of friendship that make it so rewarding to me. When I'm just as interested in hearing what others say as I am to talk about my own thoughts, that's friendship. When others' opinions are just as important as my own, that's friendship. When I can go for months or even years without talking to someone and yet, the minute we see each other, the conversation picks up where we left off, that's friendship. When someone else's project is just as important as my own, that too is friendship. Feeling comfortable enough to ask for advice, to give it, to accept it and ignore it, that is friendship.

As I've traveled through life, I've discovered something about myself that hadn't hit home in my younger years. I always knew that I was an introvert. I mean that in the Myers-Briggs sense: my primary sense of well-being comes from within. If I'm not living up to my own expectations, I'm unhappy and dissatisfied. I measure my own success based mostly on my own self evaluation. What's changed over time, however, is the much bigger role that friendships play in my life. Over time, both with music and with software development, I learned how rewarding it is to interact with other people. At this point in my life I have many really great friendships, and I know damn well how important they are to my own happiness. That doesn't mean I've become an extrovert; my happiness is still determined mostly based on self-assessment. But I've learned that time spent with others, especially good friends, is the key to keeping me motivated and satisfied.

I have many of you to thank for that perspective. Your friendship makes my life interesting. You keep me on my toes, you inspire me and you make my life fun. You've helped me learn what friendship really is and you make each day unique. Please know how much I appreciate each and every one of you, even during those periods where we fail to find time together. I am always thinking of you and my life is better for it. Here's a toast to all of you - thank you for being part of my life!

I'm back

I turned it off. Somewhere along the way, I shut it down. Not all at once but bit by bit. It hit me today, decades after the transition was complete. I haven't written a single solitary phrase, let alone a full set of lyrics for years and years and years.

It wasn't always that way. Early on, I wrote words and music. Even after beginning my songwriting collaboration with Steve, I wrote songs on my own and even co-wrote lyrics for "Same Time Next Week". I have an entire folder full of handwritten, signed lyrics by yours truly. But somehow, not long after filling that up, I encased what was left of my lyrical creativity in concrete and walked away.

It was a decision steeped in pragmatism, contentedness and distraction. Steve and I had a workflow: I wrote music, usually a section or two of a song, then he wrote words and made suggestions about missing parts. We generated a lot of songs that way and it was a system that worked. I was content to focus on guitar, my first love, and was willing to let the words fall by the wayside. Life was good in Silicon Valley in those days, lots of jobs, tons of work, and sense that it would go on forever. There really wasn't any strong motivation to express emotions; there just wasn't a reason.

Then the realization came over me, all at once. I've forgotten how to dig deep down and express what I'm feeling in the words of a song. My own song. Life isn't as squeaky clean as it once appeared. I never imagined we'd spend nearly a decade trying to become parents. I never imagined I'd reach a point where my hometown wasn't home anymore. I never imagined I'd go through 4 jobs in 3 years. Maybe it was my own disbelief that stood in the way. I just never realized that the impact of life had never shown its face in my music.

And that needs to change. I am unlikely to become the next Bob Dylan or Paul Simon or even Pete Townshend. Even so, I need to get back to channeling who I am, not just into music, but into words. Otherwise, I am holding back who I am, where I came from and what I've been through. I need to express the things that frustrate, anger, terrify and invigorate me. What's inside needs to come out and I need to get back to who I am, despite knowing that I can't simply return to who I was.

Codename "Tribute" - The Delivery (part 2)

Last time, I talked about how "Tribute" came together and how we went from over a 100 potential songs, down to the 9 that made the album. Today, I want to fill in some of the details about the song treatments and the recording process.

As I look back on the process, recalling that it took many months to kick into gear, it still came together more rapidly than most of my music projects. It helped that the songs were already written. In a way, I think was part of the magic; it allowed us to focus all of our energy on picking the songs and then arranging them so that they lived up to our "Heavy" expectations. It was also a very satisfying recording process. All of the drums and rhythm guitars were tracked at once, plus some scratch bass parts. Many of the songs were arranged on the fly, as a band, although "I Think We're Alone Now" was one that I arranged on my own and Steve S. brought in the complete treatment for "Generals & Majors". Oddly enough, that phase of tracking went by so quickly (3-4 sessions over a month or two) that we were then left with my usual question, "What the heck are we going to do about vocals?"

Well, that's where Scott Adler, another comrade from Apple, stepped in. Steve R. and I had worked with Scott and his a cappella group, "One of Each" on a holiday spoof of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" called "Christmas Rhapsody". Scott did all the low parts in the vocal arrangements and had never sung even as much as one phrase of heavy rock or metal in his life. I think all of us were initially imagining someone with a higher range, a more stereotypical metal voice, but Steve R. and I had such respect for the way Scott had handled the vocal arrangements and tracking on "Bohemian Rhapsody" that we knew it was worth a shot. Looking back, I can't imagine it playing out any other way. Scott's voice and his approach are unique and helped pull together the songs, giving them cohesiveness as an album. For a guy who hadn't done any metal before, he added a dark, scary component to the arrangements and really helped define the sound.

Somewhere along the line, we finally dropped the "Tribute" moniker in favor of "Danger, Ltd." It took me a good part of another year to get all the tracks mixed, mastered and released. Still, something about the way the project played out has left me with mostly good memories. Unlike some other projects, overall this one went from start to completion fairly quickly, at least quickly enough that it didn't feel like it was dragging. I also like the way the band, the album and the songs all have a very clear vision and stuck with it throughout. I think that vision is strong enough that it could carry over to another album or two. Really, it's a question of logistics now that we're spread out across the country one on the East coast, three in the Bay Area and yours truly in Bozeman, Montana. But with the right motivation, namely a collection of great songs to tribute, you never know.

Got any songs you'd like to hear Danger, Ltd. cover?

Codename "Tribute" - The Motivation (part 1)

At this point in 2012, the band has been called Danger, Ltd. for longer than it carried the "Tribute" codename. Even so, there was quite a long period where we simply referred to it as "Tribute". That codename was a direct reflection of the band's mission, which grew and evolved over quite a few years before a single note was played.

For many years, covering almost the entire span of my collaboration with Steve Rosenthal, we often found ourselves discussing the difference between the typical cover song performance and the real works of art. I think that our first example of masterful cover versions was Van Halen. There was something special about the way they covered a song with such conviction. They infused cover songs with so much of the Van Halen flavor that they really feel like they belong right next to their original songs. We also rambled on about Nazareth's cover of "Love Hurts", Cheap Trick's version of "Ain't That A Shame" and The Lemonhead's treatment of "Mrs. Robinson". We've all been to parties where there's a cover band; they play for hours and every song sounds like a weak knockoff of the original, without any real life or special treatment. Steve and I were always fascinated by the bands that could grab a cover song by the throat and take full control of it, making it their own song in the process.

Sometime in the 2000s, my friend Steve Sicular and I got together to talk about guitar, amps and gear in general. We'd always said, "We should play together sometime." We spent quite awhile in that mode. At one point considered starting a software venture related to music publicity but that never quite gained solid traction.

Meanwhile I'd bounced around a bit between software development jobs, eventually finding a position at Apple, working closely with my friend, Mike Hay. Though we regularly talked "tech" over lunch or coffee, the conversations often meandered until they landed on the idea of a concept band. Initially, I was interested in a band that covers relatively unknown but great songs, sort of acting as a "tribute" to great songwriting, with a nod toward under appreciated composers and performers. I don't really remember how we transitioned from talk to action but, at some point, the two Steves, Mike and I ended up getting together in my Redwood City studio, polishing up the "Tribute" idea.

Pretty quickly, it was clear that I was in the minority on the under appreciated artists concept. The overall consensus was leaning toward picking reasonably well known songs, so that listeners would have some familiarity with the material. We put together a Wiki as a place to collect song ideas and developed a points scheme that allowed us to all vote for the songs, with point totals clearly distinguishing the ones that stood out from the rest. I'm pretty sure we had almost 100 songs nominated, maybe 20 that got voted up and when it was all said and done, 9 songs made it to the album.

In my next blog posting I will talk about how we went from a list of 9 songs to a finished album release. While you're waiting, how about sharing your thoughts on some great (and interesting) cover versions of songs...