Inkwell: Authors and Artists

    
David, any chance of you getting closer to Massachusetts or Boston than NYC 
this summer?
  

    
Do you have any horror stories of disastrous gigs?  Playing in dives,
playing to no audience, getting stiffed by the promoter?

Or, conversely, any stories of idyllic gigs?  Or ones that you didn't
expect much from but that turned out to be wonderful?

And, if you had your druthers, what kinds of places would you play in,
and what kinds of places would you avoid like the plague?
  

    

I don't know, Ari.  I think there's a Connecticut date in the works for
August, but I'm not aware of anything else in that direction.

I didn't do well in my first attempts up there.  You ere there for my first
and only appearance at Johnny D's, weren't you?  I played the Turning Point
in Piermont NY twice, and that was it for me there.  Those gigs were early in
my touring career; I think the venues expected a large turnout for the famous
Grateful Dead deejay, but it didn't happen.  I have to work my way back to
those markets.

It's hard to do.

Wen you and I were young, Ari, music was the principal channel for social
intercourse.  The Beatles lit up a generation, and Woodstock convinced us we
could change the world.  Just about everyone we knew pounced on the new al-
bums by Bob Dylan et al.  Television - the half-dozen channels of it that we
had - had a testy relationship with the counterculture, as the Smothers
Brothers can attest.  Radio was our bulletin board, and Rolling Stone was our
newspaper of record.

(Yes, of course, there were other publications, and there were plenty of
people our age who didn't dig what we all say - many of whom spent those
years becoming the right-wing bastards who are fucking up our country now.
But you get the idea.)

Now there are a hundred cable channels, and video games, and blockbuster
movies, etc.  The music business, once the province of profiteering music
lovers, is now largely the province of profiteering profiteers.  Attaining
widespread recognition is nigh impossible without feeding yourself to the
beast.

And I'm okay with that.  I know I have something to say - and that in itself
is something of a liability.  On the "jamband" circuit, songwriting and good
singing are not the most-valued criteria, and lyrics that make you think are
pretty hard to come by.  The homely soulfulness of the Grateful Dead - more
or less the father of "jamband" music - has largely been replaced with songs
that tend not to challenge the intellect nor plumb the depths of our souls.
Yes, there are exceptions, but neither Phish nor Keller Williams nor Particle
is ever going to make you cry.

The Americana genre is much more my speed, were it not for the fact that I
like to jam.  And my new direction, al this trancey looping shit - well, I
can only imagine what Ralph Stanley would think if his bus pulled in
backstage at the Suwannee Springfest while I was out front playing that
stuff.

I'm deep in a niche, and that's the way it is.  it's kind of like opening a
really great restaurant in the middle of the Mojave Desert, I think: a Deny's
on I-40 is going to do much more business, but that's not what I do.

With all that in mind, I'm actually doing very well.  I've gone a long way
toward ditching the image of the overreaching Deadhead deejay, and I'm
getting plenty of work on the merits of my music.  Word of mouth is
everything at this level (with no money for large-scale publicity and
promotion, no presence in the mainstream media, etc.), and I'm getting it.
I get enough gigs, and earn enough money, that I can afford to continue and
do so pretty much entirely on my own terms.  That's priceless.
  

    

Gary slipped while I was composing.

Now, to compose some more.

(And speaking of composing, I think I mentioned earlier in the discussion
that I was planning to write out some of my compositions on sheet music.
It's really the only way to do what I need to do - these loop compositions
consist of a chord patternn or single-note ostinato and some number of
melodic statements that stack up and interlock, with lots of room for
improvisation - which in turn often yields new gestures that become permanent
elements.  Last night I actually dug out a book of scoare paper and a pencil,
and started writing out "Quarter to Five."  Then I remembered that I had a
notation program in my laptop, and I started doing the notation that way.
What a great tool!  I downloaded the newest version - Finale Notepad 206 -
which is FREE.  The idea is, you use that and then pay to upgrade to more
powerful versions, which I expect I'll probably do pretty soon.  So once I
strugle up this modest learning curve, I'll be taking actual sheet music out
on tour!)
  

    

I'm waiting for a call to do an interview on http://homegrownradionj.com some
time in the next fiv eminutes or so.

Then at 11, Charlie Miller is coming over and we're going to do some record-
ing in my living room.

This brings me back to music making after two weeks of concentrating on my
radio show and Deadhead community stuff.  I'm playing gigs tonight, tomorrow,
and Sunday, and I fly out early Thursday morning to a festival in Ohio
(details at http://www.dgans.com/gigs.html )

I'll get back here late this afternoon to answer Gary's pending questions,
and respond to anything else that comes up.

Off-WELL readers are welcome to send coments or questions to inkwell@well.com
  

    
Yes, David, I remember seeing you at Johnny D's, and would love to do so, 
again. Or, if not there, at, say, Club Passim, a folkier club. My ability to go 
to gigs farther away than I can drive home afterwards and still wake up for 
work in the a.m. has gotten less over the years. Very much my loss in this 
case.

After trying to arrange gigs to celebrate the KlezmerShack's 10th anniversary 
last year, I have even fewer illusions about how hard it is to get clubs to 
agree to bookings, then to get enough people out to the gig to make it pay.
  

    
My wife Fleur, who composes instrumental music and has tried several leading
notation programs, says they're all good. You'll be fine with Finale. (She
converts them to MIDI and hangs them with her art at chez-fleur.com.)
  

    

About 35 years ago I applied for a job as the music-typewriter operator at
Guitar Player Magazine in Los Gatos.  I didn't get the job.  It's a hell of a
lot easier to do that job now!

I'm about to head out to the Nomad Cafe for a two-hour gig wiht my pals Mario
DeSio and Jeff Pehrson.  I'll try to post some answers tonight.
  

    
Never knew there were music typewriters, but it makes sense. 
  

    

I'm on my way out to one more gig - a benefit in west Marin for KWMR, a fine
commiunity radio station.  Hot Buttered Rum, the Mother Hips, and Alison
Brown are on the mainstage; I play an unamplified half-hour set justbefore
Alison Brown, and Aaron Redner of BHR is going to join me on fiddle.

I'll have time this evening to respond to all pending questions.
  

    
Have a great time, David!  I hope you get to hear a little bit of
Alison Brown's set -- she's terrific, even if she is a banjo player :-)
  

    
Did you play Golden Days and/or Quarter to Five this weekend? If so,
how did it feel?
  

    

> Do you have any horror stories of disastrous gigs?  Playing in dives, play-
> ing to no audience, getting stiffed by the promoter?

My memory is merciful.  I have some general recollections of unfortunate cir-
cumstances but, fortunately, very few truly unpleasant experiences in recent
years.

One really unpleasant kind of gig is in a bar where they let the regulars in
for free if they don't care about the music.  This happened to me a couple of
years ago, in a great American baseball town that will otherwise go uniden-
tified.  The venue was pleasant enough - a smallish bar with a decent stage
and sound system.  Smoking still allowed indoors, which always adds a level
of discomfort and can make it hard to sing (and the stink of your sweaty,
tobacco-polluted clothes at the end of the night - yow!).  Just before my
first began, the front door opened and an entire softball league swarmed in -
sweaty, smelly, ready to drink, and really, really loud.  I had a dozen or so
paying customers up against easily three times as many of the enemy.

That's disheartening.

I played a sports bar in Philadelphia one night many years ago, with
similarly daunting odds.  And to make matters worse, I opened with a song
that two of my few friends in the audience really, really hate!  It's a song
I was doing fairly often in those days, and I didn't really think about it
until it was too late.  They forgave me, eventually.

Playing to no audience is not as bad as you might think.  Some of my best
performances have been in front of very small crowds.  If the people who are
there area really into what I'm doing, it can result in a memorable ex-
perience for all concerned - a sort of command performance ("what would you
liek to hear next?") or a clear, rich channel of communication from the muse
through me and into that handful of hearts.

Two summers ago I played an event called the Yasgur Road Reunion.  It took
place on a farm that had been owned by Max Yasgur, down the road from the
site of the original Woodstock festival in August 1969.  my set time was
around 3pm on a beautiful sunny day that followed several days of hard rain;
the hillside in front of the stage was all mud and runoff.  There was an
audience, but they were all in the campground behind the stage area.  Before
me were the sound crew, a hanfdul of friends, and four or five freaks who
spent my entire stage time wrestling in the mud.  The PA was unbelievably
loud, which I found both punishing and strangely energizing.  I enjoyed my
set tremendously, because of the clear sound and the weird circumstances.  At
one point I began a pure improvisation - just playing notes until I hit upon
something I liked, grabbing a couple of bars in the looper, and then building
it into something unlike anything I've ever played before or since.

That piece is on my CD "Solo Electric."  It fades on the disc, because I
ended it onstage by reaching down and decreasing the volume of the loop.
Then I announced that I was naming it "Mud Wrestling Jam.":

I'm about to post it at http://www.dgans.com/inkwell
  

    

Uh, it's arlready posted there!
  

    

> Or, conversely, any stories of idyllic gigs?  Or ones that you didn't ex-
> pect much from but that turned out to be wonderful?

The gig I played yesterday (Sunday 6/25) was pretty dang sweet.

I got a call a little over a week ago from KWMR, the community radio station
in Point Reyes Station.  They carry my radio show, and I usually go out there
at least once a year to assist with fund-raising.  I am a strong supporter of
community radio, and both Rita and I feel a tremendous affinity for both the
physical and social settings.

The benefit had been scheduled for quite some time, but I guess they made a
late decision to have a second stage for smaller acts between sets by the
three bands on the mainstage.  I was offered the last slot, between The
Mother Hips and the ALison Brown Quartet.

I said yes, of course!  Rita loves an excuse to visit west Marin, and so do
I.  Supporting KWMR, hearing my friends Hot Buttered Rum and two acts I've
never seen before - I don't see the downside.  I emailed Aaron Redner, HBR's
fiddle player, andhe agreed to join me in my set.  And on Sunday I extended
the invitation to the other band members.

I had been told there would be no amplification at all on the second stage,
so I just brought my Martin - no looper, etc.  Turns out they did have a
sound system, powered by a donated mobile solar unit.  Just as well not to
have all the signal processors for a thirty-minute set anyway.

Bryan Horne, HBR's bassist, agreed to join Aaron and me.  While The Mother
Hips were playing on the mnain stage, Aaron and I met near the second stage
to run through an original song I wanted him to help with: "That's Real
Love."  We had more time to kill, so we also ran through "Lazy River Road"
(which I refer to as "a Grateful Dead song for people who think they don't
like Grateful Dead songs"), and my song "Save Us from the Saved."

The afternoon was just as sweet as could be.  The KWMR people made me feel
like a real asset to their occasion; jerry Lunsford, "The Hippie from Olema,"
informed me he's booking one of the venues in Pt. Reyes Station and offered
me a gig in August; the hospitality tent was stocked with tiny sweet oysters,
which made my bride very happy; the place was teeming with children, mid-
dleaged hippies like us, younger hippies, and really old hippies, too.  I
mean "hippies" in the sweetest sense fo the word: people who tread lightly on
the earth, dress a bit more colorfully than I usually do, enjoy good music -
you know.  It felt good to be there among these people.

The sound system was live even when the stage was not being used.  There were
kids playing on and near the stage, including a little guy with an inflatable
guitar who sat on the stool and hollered into the live microphone from time
to time while Aaron and I were trying to rehearse nearby.  A little closer to
showtime, I sat on the edge of the low stage and conversed with two girls in
probably the 4-5-year-old range, each of whom had a painted face and was
gnawing on a peach the size of her head.  They were covered in juice.

The fog hovered offshore, keeping the temperature in the just-about-perfect
zone without impeding the sunchine one bit.

Get the picture?

Adrienne introduced me warmly from the big stage.  There were a few dozen
people, of all ages, already in chairs before me as I began, and more people
headed my way as the set progressed.

I began by thanking everyone for supporting KWMR, etc., and launched into
"Shove in the Right Direction."  Very well-recevied.  I followed with "It's
Gonna Get Better," also well-received.  Two energetic, positive-themed songs
- great way to start.  Then I brought Aaron up and we did "Lazy River Road,"
"That's Real Love," and "Save Us from the Saved."  Bryan joined us for the
last two songs, "Jackaroe" and "Friend of the Devil."  I felt great up there
along, great with Aaron supporting and soloing, and great with Bryan salpping
bass solos on both songs.  The energy was terrific!  It lasted maybe 35
minutes, every moment of it a pleasure.

I picked up several new fans, deepened my friendship with the Hot Buttered
Rum boys, helped out a fine community radio station, had a glorious drive in
the country with my beautiful bride - what a day!
  

    

More in the morning.
  

    
Once you've had some sleep, David - can you talk about the
relationship between small community stations and independent music?
Maybe the parallels, too, as both are endangered species.
  

    
sounds like a nice day!

here's the Bethel mudpeople, to go with the music
<http://www.fotolog.com/aud/?pid=8357100>
  

    

Thanks, Aud!

Okay, I'm finally catching my breath after a busy weekend and a day of
deadlines.

Responding to <202>, and then I'll tackle subsequent questions.

I've only been screwed on the money a handful of times, I'm glad to
say.  I am poking around my journals looking for the one good story I
have about being stiffed at a gig.

There was a festival in a remote part of Pennsylvania a few years ago.
As I drove into the backstage area it was clear that the gig was pretty
severely underattended.

I was greeted by a sour fellow who picked a fight with me over what he
insisted was unsafe driving speed as I pulled in.  I soon figured out
what the real story was.  I didn't play and I didn't get paid.

Aside from that, there have been a couple of festival producers who got
in over their heads and stiffed some or all of their performers.  The
most recent of these cost me a thousand bucks, but my wife and I had a
great time, and the plane tickets were covered, and I got to play with
a bunch of fine musicians and hear them play, too, so what the hell.
Sure, I could use a thousand bucks, and we'll rattle the guy's cage
from time to time in case he decides to make good, but I'm not going to
lose any sleep over it.
  

    

I told you about yesterday's idyllic gig in West Marin.

I shared a couple of minor horror stories about the sort of gig I'd rather
not do.

That leaves Gary's third question:  "And, if you had your druthers, what
kinds of places would you play in, and what kinds of places would you avoid
like the plague?"

I'm happy to play in any venue where the people are intelligent and recep-
tive, where I can play and sing with subtlety and dynamics, where my word
play is understood and my social commentary is welcome; where the air is
clear and the espresso machine doesn't wreck the mood every time milk is
steamed; where puking never happens; where the music is what's happening in
that space rather than background noise for high-energy mating rituals; where
it doesn't cost me money or self-respect to be there; where everyone is glad
they came.  The places I avoid are the ones where these values aren't recog-
nized, let alone implemented.
  

    

Ruth asked:

> Did you play Golden Days and/or Quarter to Five this weekend? If so, how
> did it feel?

I didn't play "Golden Days."  I don't know how strongly I feel the urge to
try it.  I may come back to the idea.  It could be something I fool around
with on the road - I'll be in Ohio for five days this weekend, with plenty of
time to hang out in my hotel room and/or backstage, so it could happen.

I did play "Quarter to Five" at the Grand Lake Farmers' Market on Saturday,
but I don't have much memory of it.  The gig got of to a rocky start: Charlie
was there to record it, and I was using my double-loop setup, which is really
cumbersome and a pain in the neck to assemble.  I freaked out and yelled at
Charlie for something that was entirely my fault, and I started nearly half
an hour late, and I was really really rusty after not playing much at all in
the last several weeks.  I eventually settled down and got into the music,
but I had trouble controlling the insane tangle of gear at my feet - I'd hit
a switch and everything would get really loud, or I'd forget to reset the
feedback control on the Echoplex so the loop would start fading out, etc.
I'm not sure I even want to hear the recording.

I'm pretty sure I played "Quarter to Five" in there somewhere, but I don't
think it was even a competent performance, let alone one in which I was able
to deliver any genuine emotion.
  

    

Angie asked:

> can you talk about the relationship between small community stations and
> independent music?  Maybe the parallels, too, as both are endangered
> species.

I am a programmer on a large community station, and my syndicated show is
carried on a lot of small community stations.  As the commercial media, and
much of public radio, become increasingly numbers-obsessed, creativity and
risk-taking tend to fall by the wayside.  Those of us who are able to control
what we play on the air are profoundly grateful for the privilege.

And as a musician with no music-business backing whatsoever, and no money to
pay for publicity and promotion, I am profoundly grateful for the independent
stations and programmers who are able to play artists such as myself who
don't hit the charts.

As you can probably imagine, I have great sympathy for struggling independent
artists.  I get a lot of CDs in the mail - way more than I can do anything
with, given that I produce two hours of programming each week.  I listen to
as much as I can, but there's always a stack of CDs - okay, a heap right
there on my studio floor - that will probably never be auditioned.

Endangered species, yes.  But it's possible to thrive outside the mainstream,
if you're careful and smart.
  

    
> there's always a stack of CDs - okay, a heap right
> there on my studio floor

Damn, that image suddenly reminded me of the very first time I met
you, at your Oakland apartment. Tina brought me over, and Jen was there
visiting -- it was the first time I ever laid eyes on her, too. You
had a box of promo CDs from which I soon extracted the Tremeloes
Greatest Hits. I effused over it until you gave it to me. I still have
it!
  

    
The Tremeloes!  
  

    
As an independent musician yourself, do you see the web changing that
equation at all?  

I read a lot about the *potential* for the web for getting indie stuff
out, but I don't honestly know anything about how it's actually
working out on the ground.