Musings - Communication: verbal and non-verbal

I went back to Florida this summer and had the chance to sit in with my brother's band. I was mostly adding guitar, but Mike did ask me if I could play bass on one song, The Boys Are Back in Town. While my bands tend to focus on originals, my brother reminded me that their cover was pretty close to the original version. So, I listened to Thin Lizzy a lot, looked up the tab, and practiced until I could reproduce Phil Lynott's bass line.

I mentioned to my brother that I assumed they were playing the song in the original key of G#. "No, I think it's G," said Mike. Uh-oh, time to reevaluate. Transposing wasn't too bad, I just had one spot where I'd be playing an open string instead a fretted note.

A day or so before I headed to Florida, my brother sent me the setlist along with key signature notes. The Boys Are Back in Town was there but he had it listed in C! Time for a crisis email: Ahh, Boys in C? Are you playing G - Am - C on the chorus? Nope, those weren't the chords. He sent the charts and a YouTube link and all was clear.

It turns out they weren't doing the Thin Lizzy song. The Busboys also had a fairly popular song with that title. It could have been really strange if we hadn't cleared this up before the set!

On the surface, this points out the importance of communication in music. We could have avoided a lot of stress and work if Mike had simply sent me the recording or a YouTube link. At a more general level, I've been in plenty of bands that would have benefited from simple clarity about goals, expectations, and creative direction.

But there's a deeper lesson here about managing expectations and creative chaos. We caught our misunderstanding before the gig, but what if we hadn't? The two songs are radically different, so I would have known from the very beginning that I was in the weeds. The Busboy's track is a simple blues jam, so I would have been able to adapt easily, just watching the drummer to cue the punches. After a brief panic, I would have been completely in the moment, picking up on the changes and surrendering to the song.

So, communication is key, but over the years, I've found myself in musical situations that defied my expectations. It's why I prefer to play with people who can listen, adjust, and save the song. Sometimes, this chaos can push a song into a radical new space that opens up a rich set of creative expression.

Lately, I've had some informal sessions with a friend who plays violin. I've been swapping between bass and guitar. My drummer just joined us this week. We share similar goals (a mix of improv and arranged material, some plan to play publicly sometime). But when we're playing my songs, I try not to direct her violin playing. In this case, I want the music to communicate to me and tell me where we should go.

Commentary - Strange collaborations

Recently, I heard Flaming Lips frontman Wayne Coyne talk about recording (and almost tripping) with Ke$ha and I started thinking about strange collaborations.

Photo credit: QThomas Bower

This tickles the same neurons for me as odd covers (like Steve Lawrence and Edie Gorme covering Black Hole Sun) or funky mashups. Taking two extremes and tying them together can lead to interesting new ideas. Whether an artist stretches into new territory or drags something back into their home base, the novelty can spark creativity.

Artistic collaborations add egos to the balance. Which artist will dominate? Or will they find a new common ground? When David Byrne and Brian Eno partnered for My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, Eno's experimentalism meshed with Byrne's rhythmic focus. Robert Plant and Alison Krause's Raising Sand pushed each performer to expand their styles.

On the other hand, Metallica's work with Lou Reed, Lulu, proved less successful. Collaboration doesn't always create good art, but it's still interesting.

This just whets my appetite. There are plenty of undiscovered collaborative opportunities. Imagine producer and musician Steven Wilson (Porcupine Tree) working with a guitarist like Richard Thompson. Thompson is an exceptional folk and jazz guitarist, but he has chaotic darkness that occasionally slips out (e.g. Easy There, Steady Now or Psycho Street). His work with experimental guitarist Henry Kaiser suggests that his voice could find a place in a post rock soundscape. Harness Thompson's playing to Steven Wilson's sense of tone and psychological texture and it could be incredible.

Reaching further out, ex-Pavement leader Stephen Malkmus could pair up with the Glitch Mob for an electronically infused indie rock. In my wildest dreams, I can imagine Animal Collective working with Kanye West. With a guest appearance by Roky Erickson.

I think I'm getting overheated. I'll throw it out for your comments - what musical partnership has the potential to be amazing?

CD review - Solex vs Cristina Martinez + Jon Spencer, Amsterdown Throwdown, King Street Showdown! (2010)

"Love is never equal" - Jill Sobule has it right. In every partnership, one side is usually dominant, even if the players take turns in that role. In the unlikely collaboration between the Boss Hogs' Cristina Martinez and Jon Spencer and Dutch electronic artist, Solex, Jon Spencer stands out by virtue of his odd vocals and Brillo pad guitar tone. On first listen, I scored the partnership all towards Boss Hog, mostly because I wasn't that familiar with Solex.

Martinez and Spencer have a good formula in Boss Hog: driving hard rock that hints at a punk edge and a twangy discordant blues. The key to their sound really comes from the vocal interactions between spouses Martinez and Spencer, which creates a strong chemistry.

Solex (Elisabeth Esselink), on the other hand, produces a poppy electronic style of music. She tends to have a heavily processed and echoed Suzanne Vega type of vocal and her production favors a slightly low fi, scratchy, retro tone that contrasts well with the electronic elements.

On Amsterdam Throwdown, King Street Showdown!, the Spencer and Martinez lay out a blues funk vibe and Spencer's retro blues voice for much of the music, but Solex's production aesthetic and instinctive pop sense dominates the mix and feel. So, it's a more even collaboration than it appeared at first.

The album kicks off with Bon Bon, which takes a Boss Hog feel and adds a laid back funk groove. Spencer's guitar offers both a ripsaw lead tone and a crunchy rhythm and the synth strings offer some balancing velvet. There's a nice contrast between Solex's light harmonized pop backup vocals and Spencer's blues growl, which lies somewhere between John Lee Hooker, Wolfman Jack, and Captain Beefheart.

The best track, The Uppercut, leans the other way. The driving club beat builds a delicious tension. Cristina's rawer vocals are a warm spark against the coolness of electronic groove and Solex's light backup vocals. The guitar takes a welcome step back, offering accenting fills, which give the song a little more room to develop.

Don't Hold Back is another strong track, giving Boss Hog the Solex treatment. Martinez's sultry vocals are pushed to the background, creating a dialog with Spencer's forward mixed comments. Spencers bluesy guitar work is cooking. Solex contributes a retro tone mix, background vocals, and smooth accent sounds. The total package is seductive and vaguely threatening.

There are plenty of other interesting moments, like the Captain Beefheart sound of Dog Hit, Spencer's Tourette vocals on Galaxy Man (against a richly layered electronic coolness), and the retro Euro-pop feel of Too Much, Too Fast.

Pour a nice tart Kriek (wild fermented Belgian cherry beer) and enjoy Amsterdam Throwdown, King Street Showdown!.