Free Time = New Songs

Summer is always a productive time for me. As a teacher, I have free time for the first time in 10 months. So, on the third day of summer, I wrote my first new song in over half a year. I've been trying to write as simply as possible, using just my acoustic guitar and one vocal line. I might flesh it out more later, but right now, I like it as stripped down as possible. The new one's called "Ohio". I'll post a video of it soon, but here are the lyrics:

Ohio

Rolling on to find Ohio

Onward through the night. Ohio,

Over the hills all dressed in

Deep Pennsylvania dark.

Ohio.

(She) feels the light that climbs behind her.

Like all her family's eyes: behind her.

She's come this far and still she

Ain't left the Interstate.

Ohio.

Flat and straight she finds Ohio.

Pressing on to find Chicago,

And when she gets there she'll just

Leave for another place.

Ohio.

Rush

I am not immune to the charms of Rush, let me get that out of the way right now. There was a time, between 15 and 18 years ago, a time before college, when I worshipped the ground Alex, Neil and Geddy walked on, when the opening riff of "Spirit of Radio" (or, better yet, "A Farewell to Kings") would get me all jazzed up, like I'd had too much cola. Sometimes, I wax nostalgic for those days. And they are certaily skilled musicians.

But, as I sit here listening to "Xanadu" in preparation of showing it to my 11th graders tomorrow (we just read "Kubla Khan"), I'm struck by several thoughts. I will enumerate them here:

1. How is it possible that I was such a ridiculous fan? I own 13 studio albums, not to mention the live bootlegs and import singles! I couldn't have possibly found them all interesting, could I have? Must have been all that cola.

2. How did I ever stop listening to them? I mean, they are so antithetical to what normally populates my headphones these days, I can't even imagine the confluence of events that lead me from Rush to Shellac. Or the Crucifux. Or Fucked Up. Or Obits. How did I get here?

3. These guys may be the most theatrical band in recent memory. That doesn't mean their songs are well-crafted, just that they're huge.

4. And what about the voice of Geddy Lee? How did it get so high? I wonder if he speaks like an ordinary guy.

EZ Audio Converter

As a bourgeoning vinyl fan, I bought myself a turntable with a USB output and access to audio conversion software. I'm trying it out today with Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings record, I Learned the Hard Way. On the up side, you get to listen to the record while you record it, cause this thing rips. But, I've tried this application a few times now, and the same thing happens. It shows that it's getting the audio in, everything looks like it's working. Then, it sends the files to iTunes and...no audio in the file at all. What the hell!

I went online and downloaded Audacity and, although it isn't as "user friendly" in appearance, its functionality FAR outstrips that of EZ Audio Converter. You can see the wave being recorded, and you can edit the file and move around the track breaks. It's a beautiful thing.

But, I must say, I prefer when the purchase of the record gives you access to digital versions of the audio. Shellac includes a complimentary cd, which is unlabeled and without fanfare. Subpop, Dischord, High Wire Music, What's Your Rupture?, Jagjaguwar and many others do this as a matter of course. Call me lazy if you want, but I listen to music in my car a lot, and it's nice to not have to move my turntable to hook it up to my computer just so I can bring music that I bought into my car, where I do most of my listening. Daptone, I love ya, but you really oughta think about giving your fellow vinyl fans access to the digital files too.

Whiskey and Records

Nothing's better on a Friday afternoon than whiskey and records. Currently spinning Dinosaur, Jr.'s Farm and sipping a Jameson manhattan on the rocks. Dino, Jr. just sounds like whiskey to me. It's hard, but also really sweet and nostalgic. And too much of it makes you kinda weepy.

It's pretty amazing, actually, that J and friends can still sound so good after so much bad blood has been formed among them. It's reassuring. They are living proof that it's never too late to cut a really good rock record. I mean, J looks like Gandalf at this point, and Murph could be a grandpa. But they still play it ridiculously loud, like the wall of warmth when you step outside on a hot summer afternoon, or the first sip of Irish whiskey.

Memorial Day Record Shopping

I'm shifting the style of this space to more of a listening and writing journal, rather than a series of record reviews. Record reviews take too damned long.

I went down the shore this last weekend, to Ocean City, NJ, and went record shopping at Toilet Water. The store has a terrible name and a pretty sketchy collection of faux Hot Topic clothes, but their small vinyl selection is targeted and effective. I picked up the most recent Dinosaur, Jr. record, but I haven't even been able to listen to it because I filled a glaring hole in my collection: Shellac's 1000 Hurts.

I love the complementary cd version that comes with the vinyl, which, I think, is a nice touch. But really, it's the riff writing that keeps me coming back to Shellac. Even some of the long, drawn out moments of repetitive, quiet playing function to build tension to some glorious noise. This record is the shit.