What Do You Do When Your Lover Hates Your Art?

So I have this problem.  Not really a problem, it’s just…I guess…a bummer.

My girlfriend doesn’t like the new song I’ve been working on.

This tune has been milling around in my head for the past few weeks.  I stumbled on a melody that I enjoyed, sang it all day in the car, and got the gumption to wrap a song around it and record it.

And now I can’t stop listening to it!  But there are a couple of things I need to address before actually releasing it, which include re-recording the lead vocal.

Many who have given me feedback on my music say “John, your stuff is really good, but sometimes your lead vocal seems forced,” or “it seems like you’re trying to hit all the notes,” or “it feels like you’re concerned with being perfect instead of just singing.”

Those are tough pills to swallow, because I don’t really know when my vocal is done until someone else tells me it is.  Being that I produce my work myself, I have no way of knowing if my work is truly done.

And how do I know when it’s actually good??

Yes, I want to hit all of the notes, but I also understand that feeling and emotion can sometimes get lost in the process of striving for perfection.

I’m at a point where I don’t know whether my vocal is good, or what I should even do with the tune — my queen doesn’t like the song, and her opinion matters to me.

According to her, I should not release the song under my own name, or I should try to sell it to another artist.  She says she hates my new song for the same reasons that I don’t like Sia’s music.  And a huge part of the reason I don’t like Sia’s music is because I have learned how today’s hit songs get made…

I just finished reading a book two weeks ago called The Song Machine: Inside the Hit Factory by John Seabrook.  The book explains that the majority of major label producers and writers today utilize a method Seabrook calls “track-and-hook” — a (hopefully) compelling music bed is created and vocal melodies and hooks are paired to match, or vice-versa.  There are teams of writers who work on songs together, trying to add the best beats, melodies, and “top lines” (the vocal hooks that are the most memorable).

The most successful top-liners generally sing the lead vocal on the demo versions of the songs they are attempting to sell to a recording artist.  In many cases, their performance is, in fact, better than that of the artist who ultimately records and releases the song.  But, these top-liners are kept in their place by the powers that be in the music industry (not pretty enough, skinny enough, buff enough, young enough, and on and on and on).

And then all of a sudden, came Sia, swinging from her chandelier.

Sia cut her teeth in Australia, but her bands failed to break through to the mainstream.  So she moved to NYC and became a top-liner, crafting hits for today’s biggest stars before creating her worldwide solo success.  Her writing credits include “Pretty Hurts” for Beyoncé, “Perfume” for Britney Spears, “Boy Problems” for Carly Rae Jepsen, and “Double Rainbow” for Katy Perry.  She’s fantastically talented, has a gift with words, and her voice is powerful.

I hear potential in Sia’s work in the same fashion as I did Lady Gaga’s music when I first heard it.  I thought, “Okay, you’re obviously talented.  And now that you’ve hooked everyone with your catchy pop stuff, the next album had better be the real deal.”

The issue I have with Sia is that, to me, her music sounds like a bunch of top-lined demos, waiting to find an artist to re-record them.  Much of the time it sounds like she’s mumbling words so the artist can put their own inflection on them later, or pretending to sound like Rihanna…which is incredibly ironic, since Rihanna probably had to figure out how to sound like Sia when she recorded “Diamonds”, since Sia wrote it!

One successful top-liner has a particular way of working: she goes into a recording studio and listens to several beats and music beds pre-produced for the session by the rest of the writing and production team; once she hears something that moves her, she enter the vocal booth and makes noises along with the music, trying to find the right emotional impact; then, after the basic pattern and melody are established, she improvises different lyrics on the spot, or reads from her notes of one-liners and couplets, trying to find The One.

This top-liner’s name is Ester Dean.  You may have heard of some of her songs: Ciara’s “Drop It Low”; Rihanna’s “Rude Boy”, “Only Girl (In the World)”, “What’s My Name”, and “S&M”; Nicki Minaj’s “Super Bass” and “Turn Me On”; and “Firework” for Katy Perry.

They figured out the formula.  They figured out how to craft a song in such a way that after repeat listens, you actually like it.  At first you may hate it, but after you hear it a bunch of times, you may like it.

Then again, the opposite is true in the case of my queen and my newest song.

When the person who loves you the most and supports you in your endeavors doesn’t like the work you’re doing, does that mean you shouldn’t share it with the rest of the world??

Frankly, I feel as though I need to release it, simply because she hates it.  I’m not sure about you, but I hate most pop music that comes out.

But they keep playing it, and people keep streaming it.  Some people — not nearly as many as who stream it, but some people — keep buying it.  And both go to the concerts.

So if I hate most of the songs on the radio, but they’re incredibly popular with millions of others…and if there are many unsung heroes behind the scenes, writing songs, and creating today’s hits…why can’t I follow my muse from time to time and create a pure pop song for the sheer enjoyment of it??

No, this particular tune doesn’t have a whole lot of substance to it.  It doesn’t have a whole lot of depth and meaning.  But why is that a problem, considering that most of the songs I’ve written throughout my 20+ years of songwriting do have depth and meaning?  Why is it a problem for me to make one pure pop song?

Hell, maybe I’ll make ten more!  Do ten pure pop songs outweigh the value (or take away from the value) of the hundreds of other songs in my songwriting catalog which have depth and meaning, and interesting chord changes, and intricate melodies, and multiple vocal harmonies, and an orchestra’s worth of tracks and instruments??

Sometimes it’s okay to just like a pure and simple pop song.

Unless of course, you’re a rock and roller, in which case you may be called a faggot or a sellout for liking something that doesn’t fit the mold of what’s “acceptable” in the rock scene.  A scene which rails against the use of computers and digital technology in the creation of music.

Maybe the reason I’m so fearful to create and release a pure pop song is…I fear that it will alienate people who enjoy my other music.  I don’t want that to happen.  I want to be able to create music whenever I want, based on the inspiration I get from my muse.

And my muse speaks to me randomly.  It happens all the time.  It doesn’t even have to relate to music.  It could be an interaction with a person, a news article I read online, a book I am reading or have read, a movie; it could be anything.

For example, the sound of an ambulance siren in Budapest, Hungary that I heard as I was strolling through the city on a day off while on tour last year.  Noticing the rhythm and the melody, I immediately opened up my voice memo app and captured them, so that when I got somewhere I could create music again, I could take that sound I heard and put it in a song, or rearrange it.

Or whatever I want, because while there are some rules when it comes to making music, there really are no rules when it comes to making music.  No limits.

That’s how the world works for me: anything and everything can be an inspiration to create.  So I’m not making this pure pop song as a way of selling out (or buying in).  I’m not making it so that I can get clicks and likes and shares all that stuff.  Those things are nice, but I would like to believe that they are a byproduct of making quality art.

But “quality art” is subjective, and the subject of this particular song is about going out to the club with your friends, catching a stranger’s glance from across the dance floor, and falling in love at first sight.  Can’t get more cliché than that, can you??

(“You’re going to be 35 next week.  When have your friends ever picked you up to go to the club??” my lady says.)

AND, the song only has four chords — D, E, F# minor, and A; and they cycle over and over for the entire song.  The chord progression does not change, and yet the song builds and builds, as do most of my songs.

(“You say Sia’s songs are the same thing over and over, but so is this song.  Don’t be a hypocrite.” she elaborates.)

With my music, I try to take you somewhere.  I try to transport you through time, over the course of a few minutes, and escort you on a journey.  Music is the only art form that can do that.

Visual art, as stunning and amazing as it can be…once you’ve seen it, you’ve seen it.  You see a tattoo or you see a painting, and you’ve seen it.  It’s over.  But a piece of music, it takes time to unfold.  You have to sit there — have to pay attention — if you really want to get the depth and meaning.

Or don’t.  Either way’s fine.  Some music is just there for background noise.  Many artists even pride themselves on being essentially background noise for the party.

Most of my songs, I don’t want them to just be background noise.  I want them to be the songs that you spin when times are tough, to remind you to keep going, to persevere, to never give up, and to believe in yourself and believe in your dreams and achieve something.

But this particular song, the purest pop song I’ve ever written, is simply ear candy.  It may get stuck in your head, because the melody is memorable and you can sing it and sing it and sing it, and not get bored with it.

I speak from experience: though the song hasn’t yet spent a month in the universe, it’s one of those that I can’t stop singing.  It is physically gratifying to me to sing this melody and the words the way they are.  It feels good on my tongue, in my throat, in my chest, and in my stomach when I vocalize the sounds which make up the words and melody for this tune.

So I’m going to recut the vocal.  I’m going to mix this song, and I’m going to do it as quickly as possible and get it on Spotify.  Because I think that there are going to be a lot more people that simply enjoy the song for what it is, rather than hate it for what it is.

Because what is it at the end of the day?  It’s just a song.  Just another song out there in the ether.

But it could become a party anthem.  It may make you sing.  It could be a song that gets the club jumping.  It could be a song that makes two strangers fall in love and become best friends.  Who knows?  Maybe it’ll just lead to a couple of one-night stands or random hook-ups.

Understand: if it affects you — if it causes a reaction — it’s done its job.

This song moved my girlfriend to hate it and call me a hypocrite.  I wonder what everyone else is going to think of it…

But first I have to sing it again, better than last time.

P.S. My new album has finally been mastered, and is currently being prepared for release on Spotify, Amazon Music, Google Play, Tidal, BandCamp, and iTunes.  It’s all happening. 🙂

———
Visit the archive: https://therealjohnkay.wordpress.com

Join the fan club: Become a Bullfighter

Website: https://therealjohnkay.com
Music: Spotify Artist Page
Podcast: Get After It w/ John Kay on iTunes
Twitter: @TheRealJohnKay
Instagram: @therealjohnkay
Facebook: /TheRealJohnKay

Let he who would move the world first move himself. — Socrates

Copyright © 2018 John Kay, All rights reserved.

Perception in B Flat Major

We had a plumber at the house yesterday.

Nothing major, we hoped; our pipes whine whenever we flush the toilet, and a quick Google search revealed that whining pipes could be a result of a water pressure issue.  Since moving into the house two months ago, we cringe every time we hear the shrill scream.

We wonder if this time, when we flush, our home will show its age, and something will burst.  We — more accurately, I — have been following the “if it’s yellow, let it mellow” rule, so as not to exacerbate the problem.

And it could be an expensive fix at a time when we are just settling in after buying the house and everything we got to update it.

But what does money matter when “FIX ME!” cries the copper?  “SOMETHING ISN’T RIGHT!!” the pipes seem to shriek, making their presence known, ramping up the intensity as the day dies.

I just flushed the toilet again, as I’m getting ready to head to an Easter brunch with my family.  Sure enough, ten seconds later, here comes the whining.  And I’m fine with it.

Why are we getting together on Easter, anyway??

My brother, as far as I can tell, is an atheist who values science and fact above all.  I could be wrong, but I believe my sister-in-law feels the same.

Dad isn’t particularly religious, though he was raised Catholic.

My queen is working a double, so she can’t go, but she sure as hell isn’t religious.

Mom is an ordained minister who performs amazing wedding ceremonies (there isn’t a dry eye in the congregation when she finishes her unique love stories which she writes for each couple she marries).  But she doesn’t go to church or take the eucharist or anything like that.  She simply performs her own private bible studies and walks as righteous a path as possible.

And mom didn’t even set this brunch up, it was my aunt and uncle, in town from Atlanta.

A little background on my family, and how close we are: my father (John) and his brother (Ken) married my mother (Vikki) and her sister (Janet).  Two brothers married two sisters.  Because of these unions, Ken and Janet’s kids — Katherine (Kat) and Kevin — are more like siblings than cousins.  We share many similarities, beyond simply physical features.

Ken and Janet set up the brunch, and I know that when Kat and Kevin were kids, their family would attend church.  Methodist, I believe.

And on Easter Sunday when I was a kid, our grandma, John and Ken’s mom, would pop for a couple of rooms at the Holiday Inn where they hosted a large brunch.

I would always look forward to Easter brunch with grandma; as a fat kid, I loved the chocolate mousse.  We’d get to swim in the pool, play putt-putt, arcade games.  It was awesome.

But we’re not kids anymore.  And grandma died fourteen years ago.

Holidays aren’t the same.  At least not for me.  They used to mean something.  Now it seems as though holidays have become a day when family has to get together.  Regardless of what’s going on in people’s lives, or deadlines, or promises, everything must be put on hold because “it’s a holiday”.

The “holidays” I look forward to now are the ones I create.  The ones I earn by way of hard work.

I’m going on a holiday this Wednesday, in fact.  Gaz Coombes is performing in Chicago on his first U.S. tour since Supergrass disbanded.  Supergrass is my favorite band of all time, and Gaz is my favorite contemporary artist.  His latest album, Matador, was nominated for the Freddie Mercury award for Best New Album.  The Mercury awards are like our Grammys.

So, on Wednesday, I’ll be taking the day off, driving to Chicago, and letting loose while witnessing one of my heroes sing his heart out.  That’s a holiday to me.

Not today.  Today, I have to dress my best (which isn’t saying much, since I still have to order my new suit), and put on hold my studio migration and setup, put on hold the song I’ve been working on, put on hold the priorities I value higher, and attend brunch with the family.

I love my family, don’t get me wrong.  I just feel that “because it’s Easter” or “because it’s a holiday” aren’t good reasons for abandoning what’s important for me to do right now.

But I will.

Because I’m a nice guy, I’ll endure the small talk, the banter.  I’ll bite my tongue when I’m judged for my lifestyle.  I’ll leave my verbal épée in its scabbard.  I’ll do my best to relate to the stories of office work, or the you-had-to-be-there tales which always seem to bubble up when conversation gets dull.

When I was a kid, I dreamed that when I became an adult, I’d finally be accepted and welcomed into the guild of the wise, praised for my intelligence and insight, that I would engage in lofty conversations about important issues and more adult topics.

Not so.  Swearing is frowned upon and actively discouraged.  Table manners are critical, certain topics taboo.  Going against the norm is met with judgment and naysaying.  Being different is just too…different.

When I’m with my family, I feel like I’m still a kid, like I accidentally broke the head off of my uncle’s 3-wood or something (which happened, but that’s another story).  I feel as though I’m under surveillance.

And I think the reason I feel that way is because they still see me as a kid, and treat me as such.

Perception is everything.  They say if you change the way you look at things, then the things you look at will change.  Today, I will employ that mindset.

Today, I will look at my aunt and uncle as two crazy kids who married their sibling’s sibling.  Two people who have experienced their own shares of hardship and fruitfulness, who are still to this day trying to get through this thing called life.  Two baby boomers who are trying to make sense of the world in which they live.

The world of the millennial is taking shape.  The world of the baby boomer is dying.  And it scares the living shit out of them.

By changing my perception, I can create whatever experience I want out of this brunch.  So, too, can we all, in life.

Like the whining pipes…

The plumber, who happens to be the boyfriend of my queen’s cousin, said that there really isn’t an issue.  The pipes are just running through holes cut in the wood joists, and sometimes they vibrate, causing the whining.

Now, with his expert opinion, I can relax.  What was once a terrible annoyance and a harbinger of disaster is now a song my house sings.

Last night, after my queen got home from work and used the restroom, I muted the television and asked her to be silent while we listened to the pipes play.  We sat motionless, eyes closed, and listened intently to the symphony being offered.

It was in B flat major.

Change your perception, change your life.

———
Visit the archive: https://therealjohnkay.wordpress.com

Join the fan club: Become a Bullfighter

Website: https://therealjohnkay.com
Music: Spotify Artist Page
Podcast: Get After It w/ John Kay on iTunes
Twitter: @TheRealJohnKay
Instagram: @therealjohnkay
Facebook: /TheRealJohnKay

Let he who would move the world first move himself. — Socrates

Copyright © 2018 John Kay, All rights reserved.

Kick in the Butt

You know, the universe never ceases to amaze me….

I ordered some monitor stands for the studio in the new house so I can migrate my operations here.  Along with the stands, I bought a few books, which have all since arrived.  Steven Pressfield’s Do the Work was delivered this morning and I’ve just completed it.  At a mere 98 pages, it was easily the shortest book I ordered.

The main theme in Do the Work is getting out of your own way by overcoming Resistance (Pressfield purposely capitalizes this word), and allowing Assistance to aid you in your efforts.

Pressfield essentially says that in order to succeed at effecting a change in one’s life, one needs to:

1. Stay stupid

2. Trust the soup

3. Start before you are ready

When it comes to being creative, to “stay stupid” means to not over-think and just act — without simultaneous self-criticism.

Just begin.  Get after it.  Don’t worry about the results yet.  Just follow your muse and allow it to take you wherever it goes.  You can sand off the rough edges later, just get started and engage in the work.

To “trust the soup” is to let go of the need to control, and put your faith in something bigger than you.  Not necessarily God, but the “Big Mystery” or “The Source” or just the universe itself.

The goal is to remove any preconceptions or held-fast rules or judgement and simply allow ideas to come to you naturally, organically.  There are no right or wrong ideas, only ways of thinking which make them so.  Don’t think.  Just write your ideas down.  Record voice memos.  Capture your thoughts as swiftly as possible, or they may leave before you get a chance.

“Start before you are ready” is a theme I find common throughout my studies.  It’s good to be prepared, but if you prepare too much and your plan is too rigid, you leave no room for maneuvering should problems arise.  And problems will always arise!

If you begin before you are ready, you know you are unprepared, and therefore, you will have to be more focused and attentive to the matters at hand.

You are naked, you are alone, and you are scared.  You must do something.  So DO something.  Place yourself on what author Robert Greene calls “death ground” — if you are in a position in which you absolutely cannot fail, in which you either live or die, your focus and energy will rise to meet the challenge.

Pressfield’s advice in Do the Work is delivered pointedly and succinctly, with humor sprinkled throughout.  I recommend it to anyone who wants to make a fundamental change in their lifestyle or business.  It’s a good kick in the butt for those who need it.

Don’t we all need a good kick in the butt sometimes??

I got mine today, right after lunch…

My queen left for work, and I sat my happy butt down in my easy chair and settled in for some me time, playing Black Ops 3.  After a few rounds, I cooked a pork chop and warmed up some bacon jalapeño mac and cheese (yes, it’s as good as it sounds; feel free to email me for the recipe!).

As I was eating and playing, I thought of the book I had just read.  And I got upset with myself.

I thought, “Is this Resistance??  Right now?  Me, reclining in a comfortable chair, eating and playing video games instead of working on something?  Should I stop what I’m doing right now and start working?”

[It may seem weird, but I have conversations with myself often.  You see, entrepreneurs have no true barometer for how hard they supposed to be working, at any time.  “I’m my own boss” literally means that I am the one who has to boss me around and hold me accountable.  For each time I think I’m the hardest working person I know, there’s a time I believe I’m the world’s biggest slacker, that people think I’m lazy.  (This is actually very common among entrepreneurs, and can lead to serious bouts of depression.)]

Once I finished eating and cleaning the dishes, I looked outside to see if my monitor stands had arrived yet.  They hadn’t, but the regular mail was in the slot.

Along with the usual ads/junk/bills was a package for me.  Upon opening the mailer, I laughed.  I had received the kick in the butt I needed — The War of Art: Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Creative Battles, the other Steven Pressfield book I ordered.

Reading is very important to me.  It makes my brain tingle in a very positive and productive way.  When I read, I read with intent to learn.

There was a book I bought once for $70.  My friend laughed at me, thought I was crazy.  “You paid seventy dollars for some old book?!”  I told him that I didn’t just buy some old book, I bought the author’s thoughts.

When I opened The War of Art, I knew this was the universe saying “John, slow down.”  Because I haven’t really read any books since I last toured, which was November of last year.  I’ve been so busy with my fan club, buying and moving into the new house, producing and writing new songs, driving nice people (and a couple crazies) around metro Detroit, blogging, etc.  I haven’t taken time to sit and read, to soak up new insights.

So this weekend, in between moving the studio gear and furniture to the new house, getting everything in its proper place and setting it up, acoustically-treating the mix room, and approving the master of my new album (excitement!), I’m going to be doing as much reading as possible.

As soon as those monitor stands get here…it is ON!

But first a few more rounds of free-for-all in Black Ops 3.  😀

———
Visit the archive: https://therealjohnkay.wordpress.com

Join the fan club: Become a Bullfighter

Website: https://therealjohnkay.com
Music: Spotify Artist Page
Podcast: Get After It w/ John Kay on iTunes
Twitter: @TheRealJohnKay
Instagram: @therealjohnkay
Facebook: /TheRealJohnKay

Let he who would move the world first move himself. — Socrates

Copyright © 2018 John Kay, All rights reserved.

Spinning Plates

I need to express how satisfying it is to be in my and my queen’s new house, sitting at our kitchen table and writing this…because at this time ten years ago, my life was flipped upside down.

I was in the process of filing bankruptcy and finalizing a contested divorce, ultimately resulting in the foreclosure of my home and repossession of my car.  Moreover, I was walking away from a career in retail sales management, and the cushy benefits and guaranteed income which came with it.

Music has been my passion since I was born, and I decided once and for all to make the creation and performance of my own music my number one priority in life.

So I took out $20k in student loans and relocated to Phoenix to attend a premier audio engineering school.  (I wanted to learn how to professionally record and mix my own music in order to save money.)  Graduating required the completion of 480 hours — 12 weeks — of an unpaid internship, and six months after arriving in Phoenix I moved to Nashville.  Once there, I bought a 1989 Mazda 929 for $400 and lived in it while interning at a newly-opened all-analog recording studio.

The car died halfway through the internship.

Without a vehicle, and with no money and nowhere to live, my parents drove the nine hours down and brought me back up to Detroit.  Just like that…poof!…I was essentially a teenager again: fresh out of school, with no car and no job, living in mom and dad’s basement on their dime.

I was utterly ashamed.  I felt like a total failure.  But I had a new skill set, and promised myself that I would work as hard as possible to get my own place within a year of moving back.  After a year of busting my butt securing occasional freelance work, I got a job as the house engineer at a venue.

I applied to get a place, but got denied a loan because I didn’t have enough history of income.  So, I built a makeshift recording studio in my parents’ basement, and toughed it out.  I had clients here and there over the following year, building my income history, and things were running smoothly until I was no longer needed at the venue I worked at.  My main source of income was now gone.  The only thing left was my band and our potential.  But due to perpetual discontent, the band dissolved within the ensuing two years.

There I was, back at square one again.  I was angry…with myself.  Because I believe you are where you are today because of the decisions you made yesterday.  Likewise, tomorrow is a result of today’s decisions.

Taking the time to reflect on everything, I ultimately realized that I wasn’t being my true self….I needed to make music which truly comes from my heart, and not just my head.  I needed to make music that speaks truth to power, and has depth and meaning.  I needed to be true to my positive habits and instincts — musical, professional, and personal — while allowing ample room for further enlightenment.

This realization led me to finally begin writing my own original music with the intent of performing it as a solo artist.  I’ve always written for bands I’ve formed with others, and I felt it was time to take the leap on my own.

Suddenly my creative juices were flowing at an unstoppable pace.  I began writing furiously, and before I knew it I had the makings of a full-length album on my hands.  I took my life savings at the time and spent it to have the songs mixed by a major label mixer, and began saving little by little to have the album professionally mastered.

And then…Koffin Kats called, offering a golden ticket to touring life.  I dropped my plans and accepted their offer wholeheartedly.  What followed was an amazing ride across the US, Canada, Europe, and the UK spanning two years.  I was excited for the future, and started making plans to finally get my own place.

Then five months ago, they told me their original guitarist was coming back to the group at the beginning of the new year, and my services would no longer be required.

Panic.  I was less than half a year away from being back at square one for the third time in six years.  I didn’t know what to do.  All I knew is I was going to make the best of the last couple of tours with the Kats, and figure it out.

On tour last November, I was chatting with a fan after one of our shows, and she asked to hear my solo material.  I explained to her that it wasn’t finished but she said she didn’t care, so I sent her a link to my Dropbox folder containing the tunes.  She got back to me a couple of days later, telling me that she loved the album, recommending I share it with others.  So I did; since first sharing with her, I’ve been in touch with over 400 people who have all listened to my tunes.

The responses have been positively overwhelming.  In my 25 years of making music, I have never received reactions such as these.  The ongoing communication with everyone has shown me that my music resonates with people, and I am honored by that.

Going back and forth with everyone has resulted in creating my website, where people can preorder my album (once I send it out for mastering) and join my new yearly fan club.  I feel incredibly humbled and grateful to say that several people have joined already, and we are all excited for what’s to come.  🙂

In the meantime, I’ve found a great way to earn viable income while growing my musical efforts: driving for Uber.

I bought a 2001 Ford Focus on its last legs back in July.  I submitted to drive for Uber in early December, thinking they’d turn me down because my car was too old, but they approved me within 48 hours.  I immediately began driving as much as possible in order to make money for…

Closing costs on a new house!  It turns out that based on the history of income from my two years with Koffin Kats, and the money in the bank from Ubering, I was able to get approved (with my dad as cosigner) for a mortgage.  We closed on New Year’s Eve, and my queen and I just moved in less than two weeks ago, after doing some remodeling and painting and whatnot.  And, the Focus died in mid-January, but based on my credit I was able to purchase a gently used 2012 Chevy Sonic!

So…I’m in my new house, sitting at the kitchen table, listening to sports radio on the sound system in the living room, and working on this letter.  And it feels so good because it feels earned.

I look at balance in life like the plate spinner.  You know, from sideshow acts, the guy or gal who takes long sticks and spins plates on top of them?  The goal is to get as many plates as possible spinning at once, so the performer can step back and say “Ta-da!”

That’s life: there’s a money plate, a job plate, a spouse plate, a family plate, friends, hobbies, spirit, health, etc.  The object is to get everything in your life in order so you can sit back and say “Ahhhhhhh…” and relax.  Just like the plate spinner, I can’t relax until I know all of my plates aren’t wobbling.  For a while, I had all of my plates on the verge of crashing to the ground.  Some did, and I had to get new plates.

It feels good to be able to step back and reflect on the journey of the last decade, to see how far I’ve come since my world was flipped upside down.  And now that the house and car and income plates are spinning again, I can get back to spinning the blog plate and the emails plate, and most importantly, the new music plate.  I’ve got another new single coming soon which reflects my newfound confidence at getting through this thing called life.

Get ready to dance.  😀

P.S. If you want to hear the album that is resonating with hundreds of people, email blog@therealjohnkay.com and I’ll share it with you personally.  🙂

———
Visit the archive: https://therealjohnkay.wordpress.com

Join the fan club: Become a Bullfighter

Website: https://therealjohnkay.com
Music: Spotify Artist Page
Podcast: Get After It w/ John Kay on iTunes
Twitter: @TheRealJohnKay
Instagram: @therealjohnkay
Facebook: /TheRealJohnKay

Let he who would move the world first move himself. — Socrates

Copyright © 2018 John Kay, All rights reserved.

Koffin Kats March 2014 Tour – Update #2 (Tulsa, Corpus Christi, Houston, Beaumont)

Well, I’m one week into my tenure as guitarist for The Koffin Kats, and everything has been going wonderfully!  As I prepare to write this update, I fear that it won’t be as info-packed as my previous posts; also, my capturing of photos and videos has been few and far between.  (I’ve slept a LOT in the past week.)  So, I’ll do my best to cram as much as I can into the following paragraphs.  Let’s go!

 

After leaving the hospitality of our Brutally Frank friends (thanks, Steve and Mel!), we left Joplin, Missouri and stopped in neighboring Carl Junction so Eric and I could get haircuts.

Pompin’ ain’t easy in Carl Junction, Missouri.

Fresh from the barbershop we drove to Tulsa, Oklahoma, and hit the gym.  Afterward, we stopped at Gardner’s Used Books and browsed for a bit.  Vic bought a bunch of books, and when checking out he discovered that the store clerk was a Koffin Kats fan!  So, we all took a photo with him and then left for the venue.

Went to a used book store in Tulsa, Oklahoma, and guy behind the counter is a Koffin Kats fan! Reading is fundamental, rockers!

We arrived at Downtown Lounge a couple of hours early for load-in.  Once we checked in with the promoter and received our food buyouts, we walked to a nearby Mexican restaurant and ate taco salads.  Bellies full, we settled into the bus for a late afternoon nap.

Loaded in, I took the opportunity to change the strings on Angel, my Reeves Gabrels Spacehawk Signature Reverend guitar.  I like to change my strings every other show, because after two shows’ worth of playing they start to sound a little dull.  I know it’s only rock and roll, but I like to sound as good as possible.  If I could afford to change my strings every single show, I would do so.

Before the show started, we reached another milestone: 70,000 likes on Facebook!  We did some celebration shots and snapped this pic…

Celebration shots for 70,000 likes on Facebook!

We took the stage at Downtown Lounge to great fanfare.  I felt much more comfortable with the flow of the set, and had worked out a few of the kinks from the previous two shows.  I did have one boo-boo though: when I jumped off of Vic’s upright bass after playing the guitar solo in “Chaos”, I placed too much weight on my heel and it cracked the outer shell.  No matter, the show went on smoothly, and all was well.  The crowd was stoked to see us, and we hung out and smoked and drank for a little while before packing up and beginning the eleven-hour drive to Corpus Christ, Texas.

Vic drove through the night for a few hours before pulling over to sleep.  A couple hours later, Eric woke up and picked up where Vic left off; I joined Eric up front to keep him company and read another chapter of my current book.

As we were getting closer to Corpus Christi, we stopped at a Buc-ee’s.  I’ve never been in a Buc-ee’s before, and had no idea what to expect.  This place is a huge fill station/food mart/gift shop/grocery store.  It had two endless rows of gas pumps, and there were so many people bustling about that it felt like I was at a crowded amusement park.  I ordered a sandwich, filled my water bottle, and got the hell out of there.  After bulldogging my sandwich, I proceeded to my bunk to have a nap.

I woke up when we had arrived at Boneshakers in Corpus Christi.  We set up our gear, and Vic and I took some time to work on a couple of my guitar effects for a few songs.  We also fixed the crack in Vic’s bass, and during the process I gouged a chunk of skin out my thumb when I caught it on the exposed tip of a screw.  I swear, something about this band and giving me hand wounds…it’s not right.

Once we got on stage to perform, the crowd was warmed up and ready to let loose.  And loose they got!  The area directly in front of the stage was a tiled floor, and since drinks had been spilled while people were dancing and moshing around during the opening band, the floor had been turned into a slippery death trap.  There were a few rowdy fans taking turns pushing each other across the floor, slipping and falling, getting up and repeating the whole effort.  I didn’t know what was more entertaining, our performance or the spectacle on the dance floor!

Loaded out, we drove to a nearby Wal-Mart and slept in the parking lot.  We woke up just before 11:00 AM and had breakfast burritos at one of our friends’ restaurant.  Breakfast finished, we started out on the road toward Houston, and I settled in for a nap.  I woke up and we had made it to a Planet Fitness in Houston to get a workout in before heading to the venue, Walter’s Downtown.  When we reached Walter’s, Vic enjoyed an early evening snack of sardines and sriracha sauce.

It’s sardini time for Vic outside Walter’s Downtown in Houston, Texas.

After loading in and playing through a couple of songs for a sound check, I changed Angel’s strings and warmed up my hands by running through chromatic scales and lead solos backstage.  There were snacks there for us including candy bars, pretzels, and cookies.  Vic and Eric chose to subsist on the snacks instead of spending money on dinner, and I followed suit.  It turned out that was a poor decision on my part, because after having only two beers and two shots, I played a set with more flubs than I care to count.  It wasn’t a horrible performance, but it certainly wasn’t my best.  That night I made the decision that going forward I will always eat at least two hours before we play.

The rug really ties the stage together at Walter’s in Houston, Texas.

Gear loaded in the trailer, we followed some friends to another bar for a quick nightcap.  We got there at last call, and the next thing I knew I had two shots of Bulleit bourbon in one hand and two shots of tequila in my right hand.  The last thing I remember was leaving the bar, climbing in the bus, and getting in my bunk.  After that, blackness.

The next day, we joined our friends Dave and Lisa at their store The Haunted Heel on the boardwalk in Kemah, Texas; they sell creeper shoes, dresses, shirts, and other rock and roll-inspired attire and accessories.  Vic picked up a new pair of shoes and then we all went out to lunch at Aquarium.  We ate some fantastic seafood, and I was able to drink some hair of the dog in the form of Dos Equis lager.  Lunch eaten, I went into the bus and…you guessed it…took a nice long nap.

Seafood lunch with our friends from The Haunted Heel on the Kemah, Texas boardwalk. SO. GOOD.

We drove to our “road mom” Alicia’s house and hung out for a few hours before heading to the venue.  Well, at least Vic and Eric did.  I opted to continue sleeping in the bus, and did so until we arrived at Tequila Rok in Beaumont, Texas.  I got my rig set up, tuned my guitars, and set my sights on finding a big salad to eat.  Alicia ended up driving me to a local Italian restaurant and I got what I wanted.  I felt lucid (read: hungover) all day until I finished that salad.

The Koffin Kats have played at Tequila Rok before, and usually perform on their outside patio stage.  Due to rain, we were forced to perform inside on a stage four feet off the ground, which was fun.  We also discovered that when I don’t drink before going on stage, I am MUCH more on point when it comes to my performance.  So, from here on out, I’ll be politely refusing drinks prior to show time.  Sorry in advance to those of you who want to get me drunk!

We had a few fans from Walter’s in Houston make the trek to Beaumont to see us again.  One of them remarked to Eric that she “didn’t want to like the new guy, but he makes it really hard not to!”  Hahaha!  I knew going into this venture that there would be fans and friends of the band who are close to both Ian and Tommy, and I figured it would be difficult for me to win people over.  As I stated when my new role was first announced, all I aim to do is honor their legacies and add whatever value I’m able.  It’s awesome to have so many people come up and tell me I “fit right in”.  It feels really good, and it just makes me want to do even better the next night, which is always the goal.

Once we packed up our gear into the trailer, we went back to Alicia’s house and were treated to an amazing pot roast with potatoes and bread.  We ate heartily, drank some secret recipe moonshine and whiskey, and Vic passed out listening to music while Eric and I stayed up watching TV and talking until the sun started to come up.  It was a fitting end to a great first week.

Today, we handled our band business.  Normally we would do it on Management Monday, but since today is our only day off we moved everything up so we can just roll out to Austin, Texas tomorrow with a clean slate.  One of the topics we covered was making a music video for a certain song on Born Of The Motor, and hopefully that seed bears fruit soon.

I leave you with that titillating thought until next week, ladies and gents!  Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

:-J

———
Visit the archive: https://therealjohnkay.wordpress.com

Join the fan club: Become a Bullfighter

Website: https://therealjohnkay.com
Music: Spotify Artist Page
Podcast: Get After It w/ John Kay on iTunes
Twitter: @TheRealJohnKay
Instagram: @therealjohnkay
Facebook: /TheRealJohnKay

Let he who would move the world first move himself. — Socrates

Copyright © 2018 John Kay, All rights reserved.

johnkay.bandcamp.com

It’s All About the Songs: New Year, New Journey, pt. 3

It’s all about these songs . . .

Outside of being temporarily distracted by an 8-year career in retail sales management, my life’s entire focus has been on creating and performing original music.

Someday, Mom . . .

Brief background: Natural inclinations drew me toward the drums before the age of 2.  In 5th grade I formed my first rock band, while also playing in every school band from elementary through high school which featured drums of any kind; orchestra, marching, jazz, musicals, etc.  My various bands over the years have been performing publicly since I was 13, and have recorded and released several full-length albums and EPs over the last 20 years, including many of my original songs.

In 2005, I built a makeshift recording studio in my basement in an attempt to record my original music.  I was able to record several demos of my songs, and subsequently discovered a passion for producing and audio engineering over the course of a few years.  I decided to leave my cushy and safe retail management job, move to Arizona and attend The Conservatory of Recording Arts & Sciences to truly learn the craft of audio engineering and music production.  After graduating from CRAS and returning home to Detroit, I set up my studio and began my career as a freelance producer/engineer.

Welcome to Stu Stu Studio. Would you like a fresh pot of coffee??

In Fall 2011, when browsing in the Music section of a bookstore, I discovered a book called Zen and the Art of Mixing; the author — a major-label record producer and mixing engineer — uses the psuedonym “Mixerman.”  Upon reading the first few pages of the book, I felt as though it was written specifically for me.  Regarding music production and studio clientele, not only did it reinforce and validate several beliefs of mine which I had previously doubted, it answered my burning questions about the mixing process and how to achieve the best possible production.  I affectionately refer to the book for guidance and to refresh my mind when mixing for myself or my clients — I even answer some of my clients’ questions by going over to the shelf, grabbing the book and reading a passage!

The overall message of the book: it’s all about the songs.

The book that changed my music — and my clients’ music — for the better.

Recently, Mixerman posted on his Facebook page, saying he had time to mix a project, and that someone should definitely contact him.  For the past 7 months I’ve been writing, recording, and making rough mixes of the songs that will comprise my first album as a solo artist.  (Click these links to read about the earlier parts of this journey: Part I, Part II.)  Since I happen to have an album to mix, I sent him a message, not knowing what to expect.  We began corresponding online and then via text the next day, resulting in his request for two rough mixes of my songs.  I sent him a medium-tempo softer indie/pop tune, and a flowing track which builds into driving rock.  Forty minutes later, while in a recording session with a client, I received a text from him:

“I love them.  The rocking track is fucking awesome.  Very cool.  Also, it’s obviously well recorded.  So, I’m certainly interested in talking to you about mixing the project.  Call me when you’re done tonight.”

Upon discussing the scope of the songs to be mixed — and my non-existing budget — Mixerman asked me to send him the roughs of every song to be included on the album.  I did so that night and woke up to receive an email from him which included the following:

“Dude. This album is fucking great. I mean, like I love it. You’re a talented motherfucker and on all fronts. I mean, your drum tones are killer. Well done on the recordings on the whole . . .“

I was floored and freaked out; simultaneously elated.  Suddenly, I found myself blessed with an amazing opportunity: a major-label mixing engineer is willing to mix my project at an excellent rate — NOW — and assist me in seeing the project through the mastering process and ultimately onto the vinyl I plan to release!!  YIPPIE!!

I’m just — gulp —  thousands of dollars short of the budget.

Gotta start somewhere!

Over the past few days, I’ve sought counsel from family and friends, clients and colleagues, asking their feelings on the subject and how I should proceed.  The response has been unanimous: have him mix my album, whatever it takes.  And, get a Kickstarter.com fund-raising campaign up and running ASAP because . . .

It’s all about the songs.

The lyrics and messages in the songs on this album are those anyone can relate to: dealing with people; loving (and leaving) the city you grew up in; liberation from a cheating lover; acceptance of loss; personal growth; new and rekindled loves; pursuing goals in spite of fear and ridicule; sexy bartenders; enlightenment.

After hosting several private preview sessions in my studio over the past few months (in order to gain critical feedback), listeners have been hard-pressed to choose their least favorite song on my album.  One after another, these songs elicit an emotional response.  Texts and Facebook messages with remarks such as “I can’t get your songs out of my head,” “When can I hear those songs again?” and “Make sure you let me know when you start your Kickstarter campaign!” have been sent to me with regular consistency since the beginning of the year.

I am pleased to announce that my Kickstarter campaign is finally up and running!  Click here to check it out and watch the video!!

I’m incredibly excited for the opportunity to present these songs to everyone in the best possible production.  I believe that the messages contained in these songs are important in our current culture, and need to be heard right now.  With Mixerman’s help, these songs are going to be delivered at the highest possible quality.

Thank you for reading this.  I appreciate you.

:-J

———
Visit the archive: https://therealjohnkay.wordpress.com

Join the fan club: Become a Bullfighter

Website: https://therealjohnkay.com
Music: Spotify Artist Page
Podcast: Get After It w/ John Kay on iTunes
Twitter: @TheRealJohnKay
Instagram: @therealjohnkay
Facebook: /TheRealJohnKay

Let he who would move the world first move himself. — Socrates

Copyright © 2018 John Kay, All rights reserved.

The Fat Kid ALWAYS Wins: Overcoming Adversity

For almost two decades, I was a fat kid.  Hell, I was THE Fat Kid.

The weight gain started in elementary school when I was around 8 or 9 years old, but the psychological seeds were sown years prior.

At 3 years old, my mom had my brain tested.  It turned out I had an I.Q. of 136, so I was now the smart kid that got placed a grade ahead of the other students my age…

…and everyone knew it.

From my earliest days in school, I was picked on and ridiculed relentlessly.  I was never gifted athletically, and was always the last one picked for any team events, but the first one picked when working on an assignment in a group, or when we’d play the school version of Jeopardy.  I liked country and pop music; the other students liked rap and hard rock.  Boys picked fights with me; girls did not talk to me.  Most teachers were encouraging and supportive; some teachers resented me, and made a priority of balancing out the praise they perhaps felt was unearned by a 5-year old.  So, I buried myself into my schoolwork, and at home, my first love, playing the drums.

I got straight As; no minuses.  In both 5th and 6th grade I was pulled out of class for half a day once or twice a week, and taken to another school to study computer programming and other advanced subjects along with a handful of smart kids from other schools in the area.

I didn’t really hang out with many people from school.    When attending school, those with whom I would hang out from time to time would either join in on the insults or pretend I didn’t exist.  They were embarrassed to be friends with me.

“They can’t make fun of the way my farts smell…if I inhale all of the gas first!!”

When I was 5, I began taking Karate lessons at my local dojo because I was afraid of getting beat up at school.  After 3 years of lessons and earning some colorful belts — the Karate belt system is used in martial arts training to mark the progress a student has made in their study — my instructor closed his business; I didn’t join another dojo afterward.

At that point in my life, I had been playing drums for 6 years.  A friend of mine played guitar, met another kid at his school who also played guitar and introduced us.  BAM!  First band formed!  (NOTE: I would go on to play with these two musicians on-again, off-again, for the next 16 years.  More on that journey in future blogs!)

So at 8 years old, instead of playing outside, climbing trees, riding bikes all day and taking Karate lessons throughout the week, I was being driven to and from my new buddy’s house to go play songs as a band with another 8-year old and a 7-year old.

I’d load my Noble & Cooley drum set (settle down, pro drummers; it was a toy store version of a legitimate N&C kit) into my dad’s truck, get dropped off, set up and play.  At his house was a professional Premier drum set, and we’d secretly play on it when his folks weren’t home…mostly because I had all but destroyed my toy set, and my cymbal stand kept falling over.

When we’d get hungry, we’d bike to any of the fast food restaurants and convenience stores in the area and stuff our faces.

Around this time, an older kid moved into the neighborhood.  He was a skateboarder, and me and my bandmates thought he was just the coolest dude ever.  So, we started skateboarding, too.  We learned about the secret skate spots in our area, and we’d carry our boards while riding our bikes to go skate at these places.

When we’d get hungry, we’d bike or skate to any of the fast food restaurants and convenience stores in the area and stuff our faces.

My brother and I joined a Saturday morning youth bowling league, and remained in the league for years to come (until I could drive my own car and my teammates started playing “real” sports).  My dad would take my brother and me to Hardees for breakfast in the morning on the way to bowling.  During bowling matches, Dad would buy us snacks and sodas out of the vending machines.

After we finished our games we’d usually go to my grandma’s house for dinner, and on the way, stop at the local book store.  We’d each get a new book to read…and candy, even though Grandma always had candy.  I’d drink anywhere from 4-8 cans of Coca-Cola Classic while we hung out at her house, and would spend most of my time trying to eat as many M&Ms, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, and Hershey Kisses from her candy dishes as possible without anyone noticing; it was my little secret.

In order to bring extra money into the household, my mom began doing day care out of our house for family and friends.  Each summer, there would usually be anywhere from 5-10 kids in the house Monday through Friday, and she was responsible for feeding everyone lunch.  I mostly remember eating soft tacos and “cinnamon crispas” from Taco Bell and mini fried chicken sandwiches with mayo from Kentucky Fried Chicken.  And drinking lots of Dr. Pepper.

Clockwise L-R: Me, best friend, friend from school, brother, best friend’s brother, cousin, and friend from school’s sister mowing down chicken sandwiches like it’s something to do.  circa 1991

My family moved to a new city when I was 10 years old.  At the new house, what would normally be the rear fence of the backyard was actually a high concrete wall to separate our yard from a mall parking lot.  Our house was 3 houses from the corner, and at that corner was a dead end through which you could walk to get to the mall.  Almost every day after school for two years, my mother would give me and my brother five dollars each to go the mall, eat at the food court, play arcade games and hang out until our dad got home.  We’d usually get Taco Bell, since it was cheapest and that meant we could play more games.

A kid in school began making fun of me for my “rolls” at around that time.  I thought he was talking about the bottoms of my blue jeans.

When I changed schools after completing 6th grade, I had a choice that summer: I could go into regular 7th grade at the local middle school and end up graduating high school a year early; or go to a gifted school a little further away, repeat 6th grade with more advanced teaching and be with kids my own age.  I got a legal pad, went into my bedroom, drew a line down the center and labeled one side “Regular 7th”, the other side “Gifted 6th”.  I wrote down all the pros and cons I could think of for each situation, and ultimately decided to go to the gifted school.

I thought that no one at this new school would make fun of me for being smart; they were all smart.

And I was right.  Not once did anyone ever make fun of me for being smart.

Instead, they made fun of me for being fat and poor.

I was now a poor fat kid, ridiculed in a whole new way, and I became incredibly depressed.  I was furious at myself for choosing to attend this school, effectively adding a year to my seemingly never-ending sentence of ridicule.

Even at 11 years old, I knew I owned my decision.  I’m the one who weighed the pros against the cons and did what I thought was best given the circumstances.  I thought I was going to a school filled with people just like me, and that things would be so much better.  I knew that making new friends could be difficult and awkward, but I was excited to be with kids my own age and whom shared some of my skill set and abilities.

And now here I was, in a new school with people I’ve never met, most of whom grew up together in their upper-middle class neighborhoods, enlightening me to my family’s financial woes and my own obesity.

I could not endure the pain any longer.  I had to make some sort of stand.

So, I told my bandmates to start calling me “The Fat Kid”, and created a kind of alter ego where I was totally comfortable with being overweight.  I made jokes about myself before others could have the chance.  Whenever something would go well for me, I’d pick up an object, hold it in my hand like Groucho Marx with a cigar and say “The Fat Kid always wins!”  It got so many laughs that I went to the custom t-shirt shop in the backyard mall and had it ironed on a extra-large cream-colored t-shirt in big blue letters…

The Fat Kid ALWAYS Wins.

That shirt became my “security blanket”.  I wore it to school.  I wore it when my bandmates and I rode bikes and skateboarded.  I wore it when I played drums at shows.  I embraced the whole character of the overweight kid in the group that tries really hard to get everyone to laugh, and continued to portray that character for over a decade.

And I effectively eliminated all ridicule about my weight.

Today, I’m in the best shape of my life.  I’ve lost 70 pounds from my highest weight ever, bike almost every day and go to the gym 3-4 times a week.  I eat a well-balanced diet of food throughout the day, and only binge or cheat on festive occasions.  As a result, I’m stronger than I’ve ever been physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually.  I also have more stamina where it really counts…behind the drum set, ladies!

The late Stephen Covey wrote in his best-selling book, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, “It’s not what happens to us, but our response to what happens to us that hurts us.”  I knew back then I couldn’t change my weight problem overnight.  (In fact, it has taken the past six years of consistent — and inconsistent — effort and decision-making to finally get to a point where I can stand naked and sober in front of a mirror and smile).  What I did know was this: just as the decision to attend the gifted school was mine to make, so was my decision to choose my response to my bullies.  I decided to use the exact same smarts the kids used to make fun of me about, and turn the tables on my adversaries.

And the only person stopping you from doing the same thing in your life is you.

Turn the tables on your haters.  Use their own tactics against them.  Sharpen your mind and create a better life for yourself.  Feel free to start with Covey’s book above.  I’ve bought it 3 times and given it away to people to help them, leaving me with no copy.  One of my best friends recently gave me his extra hardcopy.  (Call it karma, right?)

My birthday is coming up this Saturday, and I always get myself a gift.

This year’s gift: six-pack abs.

The fat kid always wins.

Thanks for reading.

:-J

P.S. Speaking of Saturday, I’ll be posting a big announcement on here!  Those who follow this blog will get it emailed directly to them so they don’t miss it.  I have a no-limit policy on how many people can follow, and it’s FREE!!

P.P.S. Here’s a moment from the fat years that stuck with me…

Once, on the way home from bowling, I remember going through the drive-thru at McDonald’s and this exchange happening as we were waiting to pull up to order:

Dad: “Okay boys, what do you want to eat?”

Me: “A double quarter pounder with cheese extra value meal, super-sized with a —”

Dad: “Doggone it, John! Do you always have to get the biggest thing on the menu??”

I fell silent and shrunk into the passenger seat.

“Why does he care what I order, anyway??”, I wondered at first.  “Is it because it’s the most expensive thing on the menu and my family is struggling with money??”  (Maybe.)

Then, I began to get really pissed off.  “So what,” I reasoned, “I’m hungry, and you’re just jealous that I can eat more than you.” (What??)

My brain brewed with thoughts and my body shook inside for at least an hour.  Bottom line, I was really upset with my food lifestyle being challenged.  I had settled into the role of “The Fat Kid” and what he would order when he went to fast food restaurants: whatever the biggest value meal was, super/biggie/fatfuck-sized.  But I knew in my heart that he was right to ask the question, albeit angrily.

So, why did I always have to order the biggest thing??

It was the habit I unconsciously created over the course of almost 10 years due to my daily decisions.

Make better decisions on a daily basis — even the decisions you think are small — and you’ll eventually create new habits and get the results you want.  I know from experience, dude.

———
Visit the archive: https://therealjohnkay.wordpress.com

Join the fan club: Become a Bullfighter

Website: https://therealjohnkay.com
Music: Spotify Artist Page
Podcast: Get After It w/ John Kay on iTunes
Twitter: @TheRealJohnKay
Instagram: @therealjohnkay
Facebook: /TheRealJohnKay

Let he who would move the world first move himself. — Socrates

Copyright © 2018 John Kay, All rights reserved.

Decide for Yourself: Create Your Own Path

I’ve had a really great day, and I hope you have, too.

To start, I woke up to the sound of birds chirping through my bedroom window — you don’t necessarily need an alarm clock; nature will always let you know when it’s time to awaken, naturally.

I turned on the radio (read: the Dan Patrick Show on NBC Sports), brushed my teeth, guzzled a couple liters of water, had a puff and began the day.

The day really begins with breakfast.  For a long time, I wasn’t able to eat before noon without my stomach feeling like it was tied in a knot an hour later.  Now, I make bacon and eggs every morning, usually accompanied by some sort of Greek yogurt parfait with fresh fruit and nuts, or a piece of multigrain toast with natural peanut butter, and always fresh-ground French press coffee to wash it all down.  While watching the DP Show, I usually read whatever book I’m currently into.  (Right now, it’s Spellbound by Beauty: Alfred Hitchcock and His Leading Ladies; I love biographies of the unique greats in history.)  When the show is over, I start working.

Cover via Amazon

What I work on changes from day to day.  It’s usually music- or audio-related and could be something related to my solo album, something for a client, something personal, etc.  Basically, I make sure I’m productive in some way between the hours of noon and 6:00 PM.  Today, I rode to a bike shop in order to get tires and tubes for my bike, and that was enough for me.  It was just too nice outside to work in the studio.

After putting the tubes and tires on my bike, I plopped on the couch and watched one of my favorite bro-tion pictures, Point Break.

Cover of Point Break (Pure Adrenaline Edition)

When I first sat down to watch it, I was trying to convince myself that I shouldn’t go to the gym, even though today is one of my gym days.  I went so far as to try to sell myself on the idea that it would be counter-productive to losing weight because “you’re lifting heavier weights than you have before, and you don’t want to get bigger, so be cool with just riding your bike.”  But then I watch badass surfers with six-pack abs for an hour and a half, and it makes me hate myself enough to change, so…I bike to the gym.

While riding, I sometimes come across areas where there are no sidewalks.  In these areas, the grass has been worn down over time by other cyclists (I’m not a cyclist, by any means; the word just works) and pedestrians.  As I pedal across these dirt trails, I am reminded of the Ley Lines of the earth.  I found myself saying out loud as I rode, “This is natural.  This is a trail of the Earth, and its energy made people ride exactly this way.”

Think about it: in order for there to be a worn-down path for me to ride upon, there had to be someone who rode it first, then a second person to ride it the exact same way, then another person rode it the same way again, and again, and again.  And most of these people probably don’t know each other.  It’s pretty amazing that so many people decided to ride the same route over the grass.

No one got a shovel and made the dirt trail.  The trail was made naturally, over time.  It took the effort of hundreds — or even thousands — of individuals to ride over the same area.  Eventually, a trail was made that everyone follows naturally, and without pause for thought.  The sum of each individual’s small decision added up to a natural bike path for everyone to enjoy.

Once I got to the gym, I was concerned that I would be too fatigued from riding to accomplish my normal workout routine.  What I found was quite the opposite: I pushed through my full routine, and did so using heavier weights than I normally use.  I even did my end-of-workout cardio instead of just opting to have the bike ride home be my cardio for the day.

As I exercised, my mind wandered…like always…

I thought of how far I have come from the first time I learned how to exercise properly (Thanks, Justin Harrison!), and how much I have learned about the process and how to live in a healthy way both inside and outside of the gym.

I thought of my solo album and where I’m at in terms of production and deadlines, what the title will be, the first single, and how it’s almost finished and I didn’t even realize it.

I thought of my girlfriend, the amazing story of us that we’ve been writing since 2009, and how our paths have finally led us to each other.

I thought of my musical career, how I left my $75k/year management job to move to Arizona and get a degree in audio engineering, and how much I love my professional freedom now.

I think… a LOT.

In the humbling book Man’s Search for Meaning, Dr. Viktor E. Frankl writes, “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.” As a constant reminder of this reality, I have the words “CHOICE” and “RESOLVE” tattooed on the backs of my arms.  The word “CHOICE” represents the last of our freedoms; the word “RESOLVE” represents being strong enough to stand behind your decisions when you know in your heart that those decisions are right.

Cover of Man’s Search For Meaning

I’ve made many decisions, and so have you.  We are all products of our decisions, big or small.

I had a really great day today as a result of all of the decisions I made yesterday, the day before yesterday, and years before today…

– I am able to wake up to birds chirping every day because I decided to not work a “regular” job.  (Oh, how much better I’ve slept since I made that decision.)
– I am able to watch/listen to a radio show for 3 hours every day , uninterrupted and without guilt, because I decided to start working in the afternoons, after I’ve fully awakened and had a healthy breakfast.  (Oh, how much more productive I’ve been since I made that decision.)
– I am able to cook and eat a healthy breakfast every day because I decided that my health is important to me, and eating a balanced breakfast is paramount.  (Oh, how much energy I’ve had throughout the day since I made that decision.)
– I am able to read a book about a subject I care about every day because I decided that reading and learning is important.  (Oh, how much knowledge and wisdom I’ve gained since I made that decision.)
– I am able to go outside whenever I want and ride a bicycle every day because I decided that feeling the wind in my face and getting additional exercise is worth it.  (Oh, how much weight I’ve lost since I made that decision.)
– I am able to push through my full workout at the gym every day because I decided to begin exercising and taking care of myself in 2007, and the results have compounded over the years.  (Oh, how much strength I’ve built up since I made that decision.)
– I am able to completely produce a quality recording of my music every day because I decided to leave the comfort of a steady income, and pursue a degree in audio engineering.  (Oh, how much I’ve been able to make my and others’ music better since I made that decision.)

I am now reminded of a quote by which I live:

“You are where you are today because of the decisions you made yesterday.  Likewise, tomorrow is a result of today.”

The bike trails I rode today are a wonderful metaphor for life: if you keep moving in a consistent direction and make the naturally-correct decisions over time (follow what’s in your nature!), your path will ultimately create itself.

Make better decisions today, big or small, and the results will come.  If you’re anything like me, the results will come sooner than expected…more likely, unexpected.

I cannot wait to share my new music with all of you.  Thank you so much for reading this.

I’m bearing my soul for your enjoyment.

/smooches

:-J

———
Visit the archive: https://therealjohnkay.wordpress.com

Join the fan club: Become a Bullfighter

Website: https://therealjohnkay.com
Music: Spotify Artist Page
Podcast: Get After It w/ John Kay on iTunes
Twitter: @TheRealJohnKay
Instagram: @therealjohnkay
Facebook: /TheRealJohnKay

Let he who would move the world first move himself. — Socrates

Copyright © 2018 John Kay, All rights reserved.

Is Your ‘Producer’ Ruining Your Band’s Potential?

“The scene sucks.”

“We need to fix the scene.”

“What’s wrong with the scene?”

If you are involved in a local music community in some way, regardless of your particular city or area, you have probably heard the above phrases and other similar sentiments.  Spoken by your friends in bands, their fans, the people that work in bars and music venues — and perhaps yourself — people are very eager to express their concern and love for “the scene”.

Based on my experiences, the burning question that keeps the people who are truly passionate about their musical craft or their support for independent musicians up at night is: Why?  Why does “the scene suck”?  Why does it need fixing?  What is the cause of the problem?

[NOTE: I personally don’t think anyone’s scene “sucks”.  I’m sure that there are some “suck-y” scenes out there, but more often than not I find that “the scene” is just fine, and it’s actually the lack of true community that really sucks.]

Can anyone, myself included, confidently pinpoint exactly why “the scene sucks”?  Not likely.  Many will claim that they have the answer.  Personally, I think the truth about why “the scene sucks” is more complicated than a one-answer summation, and those who claim to have one are drinking Drano®.

I’m going to attempt to illustrate my belief that a major contributor to why “the scene” suffers — and new/young/up-and-coming bands ultimately fail — is the audio engineer’s decision to manipulate a mediocre or less-than-mediocre band’s recorded performance into a near-perfect production.  In this situation, the band is given a false representation of their actual abilities, and because of this, a distorted perception of the band is created both in the audience’s mind and in the minds of the band members themselves.  When the band is unable to reproduce the performance quality and sound of the final recorded production — sometimes, not even coming close — the audience, other bands and even venues disconnect from the band.

The argument: when a band is recorded and represented accurately, their strengths and weaknesses will be exposed, causing them to either work harder at practicing and do better next time when they go into the studio, or receive negative feedback and quit; either outcome helps “the scene”, because both outcomes tell the truth about that band, their abilities and their true passion for their craft.

With all of this being said, consider the following…

“Let’s make a record!”

Imagine your typical local rock band, consisting of a vocalist, two guitarists, a bassist and a drummer.  They’ve written six songs, and performed at a few shows in and around their home town, mostly for a handful of their friends and family, who support them almost unconditionally.  Based on the feedback from their audience, they decide they want to pay to record their six songs in a professional recording studio.  They go online and look in their city’s weekly magazines for advertisements for a local recording studio.  They call one of the studios listed, and are immediately able to schedule as many days as they think they’ll need with one of the in-house studio engineers.

The band shows up to the studio to record their songs.  While recording, a few realities become immediately apparent:

– The band’s equipment is at the consumer- or “pro-sumer” level.
– The drummer has never learned how to tune drums, and tunes them poorly.
– The drummer has difficulty playing in time and/or to a click track.
– The drummer hits inconsistently during their performance.
– The bassist and drummer do not perform as a proper rhythm section.
– The bassist and guitarists do not know how to properly tune and intonate their guitars.
– The bassist and guitarists have a poor sense of timing.
– The vocalist is unable to perform consistently in time and on pitch.

Let’s say that the engineer continues to record the band, just as they were hired to do.  The engineer endures the poor tuning, lackluster performances, wrong notes, off-timing and pitch issues, and records everything the band needs to complete their six songs, just so long as the band understands they’re paying for it.  Once the band leaves, the engineer begins working on something we affectionately refer to in the audio industry as “polishing a turd”.

“Fix it in the mix!”

Starting with drums, the engineer aligns the drummer’s performance to a grid, making it appear as though the drummer performed perfectly in time, almost like a machine.  Since the drummer’s kit sounded poor, the drums are replaced with pre-recorded drums from different studios around the world, making it appear as though the drummer has a professional, well-tuned drum set.

Moving onto bass and guitars, since they were poorly tuned and intonated — and poorly performed — the engineer uses his studio’s collection of guitars and amplifiers and personally re-records the parts for the band, generally without their advance permission and/or knowledge.  (Believe it or not, this absolutely happens, and occurs commonly.)

When it comes to the vocals, the engineer corrects the timing and pitch of the vocalist where necessary — and at many times, where unnecessary — making it appear as though the vocalist sang “in the pocket” and with near-perfect command of their pitch.

Once the above operations are completed and the mixes of the songs are to the engineer’s liking, the band is invited into the studio to hear their recordings mixed for the first time.

“It’s studio magic!”

Upon hearing playback of the first song, the band can’t believe their ears.

“Wow!  It sounds amazing!!” one of the band members says.  “My drums sound incredible!”  “Man, what did you do to get our guitars to sound so good?”

“Studio magic,” the engineer replies.

The band leaves with their CD in hand, incredibly excited.  They listen to the CD for the whole drive home, as loud as their car — perhaps their parents’ car — will allow before the speakers rupture.  They text their friends and family and tell them how awesome their CD is, and that they can’t wait for everyone to hear it.  They start talking about booking their CD release show, and how much merchandise they’re going to sell.  They talk about touring.

They believe they are going to realize their dreams.

When they get home, they invite their best friends over to listen to the CD, and they are blown away at how great the band sounds.  The band shows other friends and family the CD, and everyone exclaims at how good the CD sounds and what a great job the band did.  Everyone that hears the CD is extremely proud of the band, and champions their new recording to anyone that will listen.

“I can’t wait to play this stuff LIVE!”

The band books their CD release show on a Saturday night at a well-known local venue with other local bands, and engage in promoting the show aggressively.  They sell tickets.  They make events on their social media sites and get several people to click “Attending”.  Local radio stations play their music in the weeks prior to the show based on the strength of the recording.  The buzz for the show grows and grows, and the band is more excited than ever.

The day of the show arrives and the venue is packed.  It’s obvious that the band put in a lot of work to ensure the success of the show.  They bought a banner with their name on it to hang behind the drummer.  They spent money on new t-shirts to have for sale.  They ordered 1,000 CDs, which — unbeknownst to the audience — arrived the morning of the show, just in time.   This is obviously a very important night for them, and they worked as hard as they could to make it successful.

Out of the 200 people in attendance, 100 people showed up to see the band releasing their CD that night.  They heard the CD, and listened to it several times in anticipation of the live performance, even on the way to the show.  The band takes the stage to a roar from the crowd, and begins to perform all of the material from their brand new CD.

Halfway through the first song, it is immediately apparent that something isn’t right…but only to the audience.

– The drummer has difficulty performing in time, speeding up and slowing down.
– The drums themselves sound thin and/or dead.
– The bassist and guitarists have a hard time playing in sync with the drummer.
– The guitarists are out of tune with each other, and possibly their instrument itself.
– The vocalist has timing issues, and the singing sounds “out of key”.

“Dude, that was our best show yet!”

Meanwhile, the band on stage is having the time of their lives.  They were able to get free drinks from the venue before playing, since they had so many people show up to see them, and they’re feeling pretty good as they perform.  Their significant others and friends and family are in the front of the audience, singing every word that they know back to them at the top of their lungs.  The band itself has an amazing energy and excitement level that they’ve never displayed on stage before.  They sell almost 50 CDs.  They believe it is their best show yet.

After the CD release show, they book a string of shows a few weeks apart in order to play out more and sell more CDs.  At the next show they play, they have close to 50 people there to see them.  They don’t mind the drop in attendance because “it’s not as big of an event as a CD release, and anyway, it’s twice as many people as we normally get to come out to a show.”

At the next show, around 30 people attend.  “But it was a weekday, not a Friday or Saturday, so lower attendance is to be expected,” the band believes.  Just under 25 people attend the next show, so the band decides they need another new t-shirt to entice fans to come back out to see them…and they deplete their band fund.  At the next show, on a Saturday night at a venue close to where they and their friends and family live, less than 15 people attend.  The band performs…angrily.

“This scene sucks, man!  It SUCKS!”

The band doesn’t understand what’s happening.  They don’t understand why people aren’t coming out to their shows.  They don’t understand why other bands they’ve played shows with don’t come out to see them or encourage others to check them out and support them.  When they text their friends and family asking if they’ll be at upcoming shows, many of the texts aren’t responded to.  People aren’t “liking” or commenting on their social media posts, and those that do are the ones that were doing so long before the band entered the studio.

The band decides to put a call out to their music community and tells them to “support the scene”.  They talk about venues and how people don’t go out to shows as much because they aren’t allowed to smoke indoors, or because the drinks are too expensive.  They talk about how shows that require bands to sell tickets are a scam, even though they’ve done a ticket show before.  They have band meetings and talk about potentially changing their band’s name, or their logo, and any other things they can think of.

They play some more shows to small audiences, mostly consisting of the same people that supported them before the recording process for their CD began. They still have over 900 CDs in their inventory.  They feel disheartened.  They feel like they wasted their time.  They blame “the scene” and everyone in it who doesn’t come to their shows, buy their merchandise or post about them online.

Ultimately, the band breaks up, and a couple of the members decide to continue on and form a new band.  They write six songs, and perform at a few shows locally, mostly for a handful of their friends and family, who support them almost unconditionally.  Based on the feedback from their audience, they decide they want to pay to record their six songs in a professional recording studio.  Since the last engineer they recorded with made them sound so amazing, they go back to work with them again…

The band shows up to the studio to record their songs.  While recording, a few realities become immediately apparent…

Rinse…repeat.

“I can’t believe it!”

Most bands and musicians I have the pleasure to know and work with are incredibly passionate.  They sacrifice money, jobs, relationships, possessions, their credit rating and more in order to pursue a dream of a successful, lasting career in the music industry.  In my opinion — and the opinion of comedian, Eddie Izzard — the biggest thing that keeps a band or artist working and sacrificing in order to realize their dream of “making it” is…

Belief.

Belief is the fire inside the artist’s belly that keeps them focused on the prize, keeps them from giving up, keeps them from listening to the naysayers and forging on toward the greatness they know they will ultimately achieve.

Many musicians acquire their belief in their musical abilities from their parents.  Some get it from other family members or their friends.  Some gravitated toward music naturally on their own, and developed the belief in their abilities over time.  Some have been influenced by all of the above.

I truly feel that at the moment an audio engineer discovers the true nature of the band they will be recording, it is their duty to capture that band’s performance as accurately and professionally as possible, and showcase the band in the best possible light, based on the band’s current skill set; or encourage the band to rehearse more, and offer advice and tips to help them become better musicians and a tighter band.  Either way, the band wins, because they are being told the truth about themselves.

When the audio engineer decides to record a mediocre band knowing that later on everything will be replaced with professionally pre-recorded instruments, re-recorded or “fixed in the mix,” the engineer is doing the band — and the local music community — a huge disservice.

They are creating false beliefs for the band, the band’s audience and anyone else who hears the recording.

“Help!  I’ve been robbed!”

Most people learn how to get better at something from two sources: mistakes and mentors.  For the most part, when people make mistakes they become embarrassed, and they do their best to not repeat the same mistake again.  Mentors help us by pointing out our mistakes constructively — or telling us of the mistakes they have made — in an effort to get us to become better at whatever it is we’re doing.

Q: How did the audio engineer in the story above mentor the band during the recording process?

A: They didn’t; they just took what the band gave them without counsel.

Q: What mistakes were left on the recordings for the band to hear over and over again, embarrassing them into practicing harder at their craft and rehearsing more as a band?

A: None; the mistakes were erased and replaced with the use of technology and the engineer’s knowhow.

Because of this, the band believes that what they recorded is what is on the record, and can’t believe that the reason they are floundering and unable to get people to come to their shows is because of their personal and collective musical and performance abilities, when in fact that is the case in many, many circumstances.

Studies have shown that in order to become a “master” at a particular craft it takes roughly 10,000 hours of practice.  To break that down, if a musician practiced their instrument for an hour every single day without fail it would take them over 27 years to become a “master”.

When a mediocre recording is manipulated to near-perfection through the use of the readily available technology, the musicians in the band are being robbed of their 10,000 hours of practice, and consequently being robbed of their ability to become a “master”.

“The truth will set you free, but at first…it may piss you off.”

Audio engineers can do almost anything to perfect and enhance otherwise mediocre performances, thanks to the technological advancements in digital recording and their immediate availability in retail stores and online.  It is up to professional audio engineers with quality standards not to coddle or deceive their clients, but to expose them to the harsh truths about their abilities and their skill set.  Whether that toughens their skin or sends them scurrying away isn’t the engineer’s problem.

While we are able to understand and appreciate that many engineers have bills and expenses related to their studio and their career, and need to generate steady income, does the need for money excuse them from accepting the great responsibility they have to their clients and musical community?  Should a professional audio engineer with extensive knowledge in recording, songwriting, arrangement, mixing and production simply stay silent while recording a poor performance and manipulate it near to perfection while the band is away, ultimately giving them an inaccurate representation of their work, simply because the studio bills have to be paid?

My belief is when audio engineers decide to placate their clients instead of telling them the truth, they impede the  short- and long-term improvement of the skill set of the musicians, and the fallout from that impediment is something that really, truly hurts “the scene”.

I’m trying to assert that the recording engineer is the first/last line of defense in accurately representing a band to the public, and when they just take the band’s money and “polish the turd”, the band (and scene) ultimately suffers.

 

Thanks for reading.

:-J

———
Visit the archive: https://therealjohnkay.wordpress.com

Join the fan club: Become a Bullfighter

Website: https://therealjohnkay.com
Music: Spotify Artist Page
Podcast: Get After It w/ John Kay on iTunes
Twitter: @TheRealJohnKay
Instagram: @therealjohnkay
Facebook: /TheRealJohnKay

Let he who would move the world first move himself. — Socrates

Copyright © 2018 John Kay, All rights reserved.

 

Act Like An Ant: How to Get Big Projects Done

There is excitement in the air, and it has been following me for at least two weeks now…

I said I was going to be posting here demos of songs that I have been considering for placement on my debut solo record, and I had full intention of doing so.  However, that plan has changed.

A couple of weeks ago, a good friend of mine stopped by the recording studio to share some of his first batch of home-brewed beer and get my opinion and feedback on it.  (It was delicious!)  We spent the time chatting about his brewing process and life in general, and then cued up some of the songs I had planned on posting here.  I didn’t know the order in which to play them, so I sequenced them in the order I felt may work as a 10-song album.

For those who don’t know me, or have a preconceived notion as to how I perceive my own music, I’m my own worst critic.  I absolutely hate playing my music for other people to listen to while I’m in the same room.  I’d prefer to give them a CD or send them a file to listen to at their convenience and get back to me.  Personally, when an artist is playing their music for me, I feel a pressure — likely self-imposed — to not say anything negative about their work, regardless of its merit.  I mean, when you get down to it, music and all forms of art are generally very personal, and songs are a musician’s creative babies — only the cruel would tell someone they have an ugly baby.

Sometimes it’s even hard for me to listen to the music that I produce myself!  Knowing exactly how it was performed, recorded and captured; how it was edited and mixed; where all of the “mistakes” are, all of these things are in my mind as I listen to a song I’ve created, and I can’t listen past them and appreciate the song.  I always know where I could have done better.  So, I’ll put on a song with the intent to listen to it and discover what needs to be done, get about 30-45 seconds into the tune and turn it off because I feel as though there are so many things that need to be done, and I’ve done so much already.  (“Maybe I should just start over…”)

OR, I’ll be listening to a song and doubt my skills on instruments that aren’t necessarily my forte such as bass, guitar or vocals.  I’ll question my arrangements.  I’ll question my performances, and the way they were captured.  (“Should I re-record this or that part..??”)  I’ll question the advice and wisdom of my musical colleagues.  I’ll question everything, because…there is no excuse to not make whatever you are passionate about as great as it can possibly become.

In light of this, I told my friend “Now, I need you to be perfectly frank about these songs, please.  If you think a song sucks, or something is out of whack, I need you to let me know so I can make it better.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he replied, “We’re friends.  I know I can tell you the truth, no matter how painful.”

I pressed play, and held my breath.

45 minutes later, my buddy and I sat in silence and looked at each other.  He was just sitting there smiling at me.  I asked what he thought, and he said, “Other than the one thing I mentioned in the last song, and the ones you said still need to be mixed, I wouldn’t change anything!  It’s got a good flow, and I love how your songs just get bigger and bigger!

“The first side starts out chill and relaxed, and still has good, positive energy.  Then the album gets a little darker, but at that point in the album you’re ready for it.  Then you start side two with a cool love song, then that one big, epic track — I love that song!  Then you bring it back down a little bit before the big climax at the end of the album, which is awesome, by the way!  I think the whole thing is great, man!”

Out of some sort of sense of shame, I hadn’t listened to any of the songs the whole way through since I first gave them each a rough mix weeks or even months ago.

I knew the tunes I’d roughed out on my own needed work, and was fearful that upon listening to them that I would want to scrap and rework most of them.  I was lost in sea of songs and lyrics and melodies and choruses and arrangements and ideas.  I had everything there in front of me, and no clue which way to go next.

I needed someone else to sit in the room with me and listen to what I thought would work in order to see if my intuitions were correct.  Best-selling author and management expert Ken Blanchard has famously said, “Feedback is the breakfast of champions.”  Without honest, constructive feedback, you don’t know where your growth opportunities are, and if you’re not growing, you’re dying.  Based on the feedback I’ve received so far, following my intuition seems to be working positively.

But I don’t just go on the word of one person before I move forward with my endeavors.

I have a sort of guideline I follow regarding when to believe the opinion or conjecture of others: if one person says it, they may be full of shit; if two persons who don’t know each other say it, it may be hearsay; if three or more persons say it, it’s the Bible, and I run with it until it’s challenged later, if at all.

So, I had a client and singer-songwriter buddy of mine come over and have the same listening experience as my brewmeister friend, whose guitars we used to record my client’s previous album with his band.  Other than that, these two dudes do not know each other, and have varying musical tastes.

To my surprise, I received the near exact same feedback from each of them!

My fear was that the songs would sound disjointed from one another, due to having different genres represented throughout the catalog of tunes I’ve written in the past 6 months.  Once I was forced to sit through a listen of these 10 songs without stopping, without adjusting something in the mix in the middle of a song and starting again, without “fixing” the “mistakes” and hearing an objective first impression from two people whom I consider qualified to criticize music, I found what I had hoped would happen from the outset.

I have found that my album has essentially finished itself.  Yes, even before it’s mixed.

Think of an ant farm: when you first buy an ant farm, you essentially have a transparent box of sand.  Then, you add the ants, and they immediately get to work.  Each ant grabs a single grain of sand and marches it from one area of the farm to another.  One by one, grain by grain, the ants slowly build the foundation of their new home.  A few weeks later, after paying little attention to the progress of the ants, you look up to find an entire network of tunnels and caves; the ants have built a city in just a few short weeks, grain by grain, little by little, one day at a time.

Can you see how this principle can be applied to your life??  If you have a goal or task in your personal or professional life that seems daunting or otherwise impossible, start working on it just a little bit…today!

Act like an ant, and work at your task just a little bit every day, and before you know it, you’ll accomplish what you set out to do!

SO!  The final overdub sessions will be completed within the next couple of weeks; a photo shoot will take place on May 4, followed by a meeting with a music video producer to discuss locations and treatments for the video for the first single; a Kickstarter or IndieGogo campaign will be launched to raise the funds necessary for having the album mastered professionally and reproduced on vinyl, and rehearsals will begin for the debut show with a full band.

Over the next month or so, the wheels will begin churning…

There is excitement in the air!!

Thanks so much for reading.

:-J

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