Some time ago I spoke about my full time day gig at ThomasNet. At that point I was still getting the hang of everything. I was suddenly put in the html driver's seat with license to throw the switch to send our newsletters to hundreds of thousands of subscribers. After some trial by fire, I feel pretty comfortable with everything - even last minute email blasts with lots of edit change requests.
But this does not mean I am ready to say I'm an html expert on my resume by any stretch. I am a functioning newsletter production manager, but my html design skills are in need of an upgrade. Ask me to construct a table and I'm slouching at my computer for hours. The reality is I still don't understand everything about html and even less about CSS - and the latter is the basis of the way most pages are written. But I hate looking at CSS and figuring out how it controls everything. To be fair, I have no decent html editor resident on my computer. I downloaded this free editor N-Vu and try to work with it, but more often then not, I just end up moving stuff around and making a mess. So I continue with repurposing other people's code, pushing my dirty break tags into copy, chucking in my little href's and crossing my fingers. More often then not I am shocked that it works. RSS and xml feeds? php? That's for "other people".
What about music. Well, recently in September I took some time off. I arranged all my music, practiced diligently, hired musicians, gave them Sibelius generated music, and shared everything on a download page. I was more organized than I've ever been for a recording. How did it go?
More tomorrow...
October 31, 2007
October 30, 2007
Preparing for Success? I think not...
Often I wonder if there is a way to predict and bring about- through preparation- a successful performance. But the older I get the more I feel it's not possible. Why? Well, tell me truthfully whether you have had one of these experiences:
1. You were well rehearsed but played worse than you usually do
2. You were well rehearsed but not spontaneous
3. You didn't practice at all and played great
4. You did a lot of practicing and played very well and felt practicing paid off.
5. You were not prepared at all and played like shit
6. You were really looking forward to playing but then it was a disaster
7. You were really not looking forward to playing and it turned out really well
Can all of these things be true objectively speaking? I'm sure many people will try to find explanations to support "preparing for success". But at best I would think that even detailed opinions would be at best, speculative. And also people like to take credit for things in hindsight that may have been just a fortunate convergence of positive factors.
And what about listening back to recordings? Has this happened to you:
1. You thought you played really well and you didn't
2. You thought you played really bad but it turned out to be really happening.
3. You heard something that you thought wasn't happening then later changed your mind
4. You heard something you really liked but found after a while-nothing in it.
For the most part, I used to follow the idea that immersion into the music was the best guarantee. But a recent experience where I felt immersed in the music and comfortable only to be disappointed in the result brought me back to square one.
I guess I will have to grow to accept that there is no formula and the the results speak to whatever the certain and peculiar interaction of moments and intentions dictate; also that it is also possible to perceive something differently as time goes on. The only truth seems to be complete variability and perhaps freeing yourself from dependence on "good results" or perceived good results is the only thing you can attempt to do.
1. You were well rehearsed but played worse than you usually do
2. You were well rehearsed but not spontaneous
3. You didn't practice at all and played great
4. You did a lot of practicing and played very well and felt practicing paid off.
5. You were not prepared at all and played like shit
6. You were really looking forward to playing but then it was a disaster
7. You were really not looking forward to playing and it turned out really well
Can all of these things be true objectively speaking? I'm sure many people will try to find explanations to support "preparing for success". But at best I would think that even detailed opinions would be at best, speculative. And also people like to take credit for things in hindsight that may have been just a fortunate convergence of positive factors.
And what about listening back to recordings? Has this happened to you:
1. You thought you played really well and you didn't
2. You thought you played really bad but it turned out to be really happening.
3. You heard something that you thought wasn't happening then later changed your mind
4. You heard something you really liked but found after a while-nothing in it.
For the most part, I used to follow the idea that immersion into the music was the best guarantee. But a recent experience where I felt immersed in the music and comfortable only to be disappointed in the result brought me back to square one.
I guess I will have to grow to accept that there is no formula and the the results speak to whatever the certain and peculiar interaction of moments and intentions dictate; also that it is also possible to perceive something differently as time goes on. The only truth seems to be complete variability and perhaps freeing yourself from dependence on "good results" or perceived good results is the only thing you can attempt to do.
October 28, 2007
Jaco Pastorius
In my early years, I got heavy doses of Jimmy Raney, Bill Evans, Bob Brookmeyer, Cannonball Adderly, Pat Martino, Stan Getz and whatever records my brother Doug inherited from Dad. Doug put many albums on reel to reel tapes (the mp3s of yesteryear in terms of packin' your favorites on one unit). Plus I heard my brother making recordings, jamming with himself and transcribing solos by Dad, Charlie Parker and Sonny Stitt. Sometimes half speed.
When my brother left for Europe, that's pretty much where my head was at in high school. I listened to the same records and it was all great but very traditional stuff. I would wear out records such as Live in Tokyo and Montreux II. Then my friend, bassist Steve Schwab put on this record called Jaco Pastorius it turned my head around. He played me "Havona" from Heavy Weather after that. Zawinul is a master player and Shorter was keen commentator and part player in the band but even as a pianist I was still listening mostly to Jaco. I was particularly blown away by "Used to Be a Cha Cha" from his debut album and ofcourse that unique but lyrical blowing on "Donna Lee". I had heard the tune tons of times before, but never like THAT. I now had a new hero in addition to my Dad.
I then picked up Pat Metheny's album Bright Size Life with Jaco and that started a new current for me. Now I was into jazz fusion. I was not really blown away by Billy Cobham, Jean Luc Ponty or Mahavishnu, prior. I liked it but it was very techno sounding. But when I heard Heavy Weather and Black Market I really became a fan. There was just a lot more feeling there. I also liked Pat Metheny's group. Some people thought they sounded too "happy" or pop, but I liked the feeling they had and they were obviously top notch musicians. Mark Egan had that Jaco sound even if he wasn't quite Jaco himself. I went to see both Jaco and Pat Metheny at Carnegie Hall and saw Pat at the Bottom Line and the Beacon Theatre.
To me this new fusion style was hip, electric but yet informed by jazz. Plus I was young and searching for new things. It's just before Jaco, nothing really impressed me besides my favorites: Hancock, Evans, Corea, Raney, Getz, Powell, etc. I listened intently to the local jazz station and I got my first dose of the tune, "Punk Jazz" with Tony Williams beginning cymbal smash and Jaco's scorching solo. I also remember Downbeat giving the album one star and thought that was ridiculous. I also remember the Heath Brothers criticizing it in a Downbeat blindfold test and saying Jaco's playing was mostly about technique. Please...I liked the album Mr. Gone and still do. And if there's anyone that should be a jazz purist it's me. I remember savoring the album Night Passage from the school library. When Jaco quit the band and started doing Word of Mouth for some reason I just tuned out. Perhaps it was a good thing I did. Because so much bad shit was happening to Jaco from about 1983 onward. I would hear stories about him from Doug and other people--at clubs like Bradleys and such. I remember him sitting on the Great Lawn in Central Park in his bare feet with some friends listening to our street band a year before his death in 1987.
Recently, I read the Bill Milkowski biography and fell under Jaco's spell again. I had this great longing for him to be alive again. I felt genuine sadness at his great rise and fall. Someone should really make a movie out of his story. For example when you experience the rise of a great talent and then all the sudden their life goes to shit. I felt this recognition for three people in the jazz world: Jimmy Raney, Bill Evans and Jaco. I don't know why. The latter two I never met, but somehow I feel like I had. It's funny when you listen to someone's music constantly how it makes you feel like you know them. There is a humanness about the sound of Jaco and the range of his instrument is right in my vocal range. I feel a resonance there from his great melodic phrasing and general pathos. I knew he was an egotist, but I have known many in my life time and the more off-the-wall types--you almost had to go along with them. You gave them the slack almost because you recognize they are living life in a different way. Completely their own way. They are so confident that they make you feel like perhaps you are the one that's crazy--or perhaps just less real or honest with yourself.
When my brother left for Europe, that's pretty much where my head was at in high school. I listened to the same records and it was all great but very traditional stuff. I would wear out records such as Live in Tokyo and Montreux II. Then my friend, bassist Steve Schwab put on this record called Jaco Pastorius it turned my head around. He played me "Havona" from Heavy Weather after that. Zawinul is a master player and Shorter was keen commentator and part player in the band but even as a pianist I was still listening mostly to Jaco. I was particularly blown away by "Used to Be a Cha Cha" from his debut album and ofcourse that unique but lyrical blowing on "Donna Lee". I had heard the tune tons of times before, but never like THAT. I now had a new hero in addition to my Dad.
I then picked up Pat Metheny's album Bright Size Life with Jaco and that started a new current for me. Now I was into jazz fusion. I was not really blown away by Billy Cobham, Jean Luc Ponty or Mahavishnu, prior. I liked it but it was very techno sounding. But when I heard Heavy Weather and Black Market I really became a fan. There was just a lot more feeling there. I also liked Pat Metheny's group. Some people thought they sounded too "happy" or pop, but I liked the feeling they had and they were obviously top notch musicians. Mark Egan had that Jaco sound even if he wasn't quite Jaco himself. I went to see both Jaco and Pat Metheny at Carnegie Hall and saw Pat at the Bottom Line and the Beacon Theatre.
To me this new fusion style was hip, electric but yet informed by jazz. Plus I was young and searching for new things. It's just before Jaco, nothing really impressed me besides my favorites: Hancock, Evans, Corea, Raney, Getz, Powell, etc. I listened intently to the local jazz station and I got my first dose of the tune, "Punk Jazz" with Tony Williams beginning cymbal smash and Jaco's scorching solo. I also remember Downbeat giving the album one star and thought that was ridiculous. I also remember the Heath Brothers criticizing it in a Downbeat blindfold test and saying Jaco's playing was mostly about technique. Please...I liked the album Mr. Gone and still do. And if there's anyone that should be a jazz purist it's me. I remember savoring the album Night Passage from the school library. When Jaco quit the band and started doing Word of Mouth for some reason I just tuned out. Perhaps it was a good thing I did. Because so much bad shit was happening to Jaco from about 1983 onward. I would hear stories about him from Doug and other people--at clubs like Bradleys and such. I remember him sitting on the Great Lawn in Central Park in his bare feet with some friends listening to our street band a year before his death in 1987.
Recently, I read the Bill Milkowski biography and fell under Jaco's spell again. I had this great longing for him to be alive again. I felt genuine sadness at his great rise and fall. Someone should really make a movie out of his story. For example when you experience the rise of a great talent and then all the sudden their life goes to shit. I felt this recognition for three people in the jazz world: Jimmy Raney, Bill Evans and Jaco. I don't know why. The latter two I never met, but somehow I feel like I had. It's funny when you listen to someone's music constantly how it makes you feel like you know them. There is a humanness about the sound of Jaco and the range of his instrument is right in my vocal range. I feel a resonance there from his great melodic phrasing and general pathos. I knew he was an egotist, but I have known many in my life time and the more off-the-wall types--you almost had to go along with them. You gave them the slack almost because you recognize they are living life in a different way. Completely their own way. They are so confident that they make you feel like perhaps you are the one that's crazy--or perhaps just less real or honest with yourself.
At Long Last Blog
It's been forever since I've last written, but rather than give a billion excuses why, let me just finish the story I started.
So when Christian Egeskov told me he had the painting and had obviously obtained it completely innocently it put me in a wierd position. I didn't want to get angry about it but I felt like he had to know the circumstances by which he obtained it. I told him the entire Ebay story. This was his some of his reply:
Seeing the painting on the cover of "the date" album I got the idea the he painted a lot, and that the self portrait was just a minor work, not really considered part of the collection, since it was unfinished. That's why I was so thrilled to get it from Ebay. I honestly thought that the family has gotten what they wanted and was just cleaning up the rest.Is the self portrait the only excisting painting that you know of?I feel bad about the whole situation - certainly didn't want to rip off the Raney family - how could I since listen to Jimmy and Doug's music every day.It's a dilemma for me! I could give you the painting back - although it would break my heart too - but then again I lean towards thinking that's the right decision.
I replied to him I wasn't obligating him to take the decision to give it back. That whatever he wanted to do was fine. I just wanted him to know about it that's all.
He then replied with this:
I've decided to contribute to the Jimmy Raney legacy by giving you back the painting. But it might take a little time before a can ship it off. I need to figure out how too package it safely and I haven't much time at the moment since I'm in the process of buying a house and moving.Ultimately it would be best if you were coming to Denmark at some point! Then I could hand it overto you personaly ... and you could also play some concerts with Doug ;-)I would also very much like to help you in anyway I can with your project.
Kind of restores your faith in human beings, doesn't it?
Since then, Christian has sent me several things: other live recordings of Doug and Dad (including the Bradley's bootleg),articles, pictures, a couple of videos.. It goes on and on. We haven't met as yet to exchange the painting, but honestly he has given so much back that.. well what can I say. I feel very lucky I've met someone so honest. He has already contributed a great deal, not to mention photos that truly have helped this blog for example. One of the videos he sent me in digital form I'm pretty sure I have a better copy of in VHS. I will try to send him a better copy translated digitally. I saw a gadget at Circuit City for a decent price that should solve this issue as well as that of my new digital video camera. This video I will probably eventually put up on You tube since I have received numerous requests to post a Jimmy Raney video. There is another University of Louisville clinic done that I want to put up as well.
The photos that Christian sent me are now gracing my wall above my piano. A "Raney shrine" was organized and put together beautifully by wife, Yajaira.
About the book. Well, it got put on hold. Tons of reasons, some good, some lame. Writer's block (there were considerable adds planned by me- some of which you have seen already posted on this blog), inertia, other private issues. My most recent was the fact that I was putting together a new recording with Ed Fuqua and drummer Eliot Zigmund. Still working on the edit and mix.
I can't really say "stay tuned" at this point given my flakey track record. But hopefully between getting the momentum going and the power of RSS I'll be back on this thing.
So when Christian Egeskov told me he had the painting and had obviously obtained it completely innocently it put me in a wierd position. I didn't want to get angry about it but I felt like he had to know the circumstances by which he obtained it. I told him the entire Ebay story. This was his some of his reply:
Seeing the painting on the cover of "the date" album I got the idea the he painted a lot, and that the self portrait was just a minor work, not really considered part of the collection, since it was unfinished. That's why I was so thrilled to get it from Ebay. I honestly thought that the family has gotten what they wanted and was just cleaning up the rest.Is the self portrait the only excisting painting that you know of?I feel bad about the whole situation - certainly didn't want to rip off the Raney family - how could I since listen to Jimmy and Doug's music every day.It's a dilemma for me! I could give you the painting back - although it would break my heart too - but then again I lean towards thinking that's the right decision.
I replied to him I wasn't obligating him to take the decision to give it back. That whatever he wanted to do was fine. I just wanted him to know about it that's all.
He then replied with this:
I've decided to contribute to the Jimmy Raney legacy by giving you back the painting. But it might take a little time before a can ship it off. I need to figure out how too package it safely and I haven't much time at the moment since I'm in the process of buying a house and moving.Ultimately it would be best if you were coming to Denmark at some point! Then I could hand it overto you personaly ... and you could also play some concerts with Doug ;-)I would also very much like to help you in anyway I can with your project.
Kind of restores your faith in human beings, doesn't it?
Since then, Christian has sent me several things: other live recordings of Doug and Dad (including the Bradley's bootleg),articles, pictures, a couple of videos.. It goes on and on. We haven't met as yet to exchange the painting, but honestly he has given so much back that.. well what can I say. I feel very lucky I've met someone so honest. He has already contributed a great deal, not to mention photos that truly have helped this blog for example. One of the videos he sent me in digital form I'm pretty sure I have a better copy of in VHS. I will try to send him a better copy translated digitally. I saw a gadget at Circuit City for a decent price that should solve this issue as well as that of my new digital video camera. This video I will probably eventually put up on You tube since I have received numerous requests to post a Jimmy Raney video. There is another University of Louisville clinic done that I want to put up as well.
The photos that Christian sent me are now gracing my wall above my piano. A "Raney shrine" was organized and put together beautifully by wife, Yajaira.
About the book. Well, it got put on hold. Tons of reasons, some good, some lame. Writer's block (there were considerable adds planned by me- some of which you have seen already posted on this blog), inertia, other private issues. My most recent was the fact that I was putting together a new recording with Ed Fuqua and drummer Eliot Zigmund. Still working on the edit and mix.
I can't really say "stay tuned" at this point given my flakey track record. But hopefully between getting the momentum going and the power of RSS I'll be back on this thing.
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