Friday: The Carcass Song
It is Friday, and last night, I added the 5 gallon bucket to "The Carcass Song," which is about the last in the set of songs that I recorded at Shermans house last weekend. There are 2 more that I haven't posted yet, because of mistakes that can be fixed.
The bucket slid out from between my knees and I dropped the beat, during the electric guitar solo, of all times, but I didn't want to re-do it because Howard was trying to go to sleep a few feet away.
I suppose I am leaving room for improvement.
Sue Orleans
I miss Sue and am writing a song about her and if I can get with Sherman this weekend I hope to record the song about Sue, which ironically will keep me from going to New Orleans and actually seeing her.
Howard asked me this morning: "Does Sue want to come out here?" to which I could only reply that, as much as she complains about New Orleans, people there approach her and hand her money when they see her carrying all her bags, and animals.
If she came here, she would have to stay around the downtown area; or we (all) would have to hop the train to Shreveport in short order.
If we are not gone within the next couple of days, we may be hearing from him again.
I used to pay 10 bucks per lesson, but that was in 1987.
He gave me his card, and I gave him Shermans number, in case he called that same evening. Now it's up to me to contact him, I guess.
I will start him off with the C major scale in all 5 positions, the way my teacher started me off. I had to practice 36 hours one week in order to get them down well enough to satisfy him so that he would give me the next set of scales: the harmonic minor scales in all 4 positions.
There are no shortcuts. If I only practiced 12 hours a particular week, my teacher would know...
The two weeks that I might wind up waiting to get my ID would give me a chance to give the guy a couple of lessons, at least. I don't know if he expects to stick with the same teacher for a year or so; I'll have to make it clear that I could start him out and give him a months worth of practice material; but that I am trying to move on from here.
It might give me time for another recording session or two at Shermans, also.
By then, it will be the hottest time of the year
I am a dollar short of my bus fare to get downtown, but it is only 3:17 p.m., and I have another 6 hours before the last bus leaves here, to come up with one dollar, busking in front of the Chevron station.
Howard asked me this morning: "Does Sue want to come out here?" to which I could only reply that, as much as she complains about New Orleans, people there approach her and hand her money when they see her carrying all her bags, and animals.
If she came here, she would have to stay around the downtown area; or we (all) would have to hop the train to Shreveport in short order.
Eviction Notice
The brother of the lady who owns the boarded up building came to cut the grass and informed me that they are going to start to work on the building, eventually un-boarding it, and that they no longer wanted anyone camping there.
It may have had something to do with me running off the old black guy who takes our aluminum cans; or it may have something to do with all the empty beer bottles that the guy left laying around.
I told him that I was planning upon going to New Orleans this weekend for a short time, and then would be leaving Baton Rouge for Shreveport soon thereafter.If we are not gone within the next couple of days, we may be hearing from him again.
Picture ID
During my first visit to the One Stop Homelessness Center here in Baton Rouge (which is their version of The Rebuild Center in New Orleans) yesterday morning, I filled out the paperwork requesting help in getting a picture ID.
The lady there said that they had their own lawyer and that there was no cost to the homeless person for his assistance.
They told me that it could take up to 2 weeks before I am scheduled to meet with the lawyer.
I left them my mothers phone number in Massachusetts. She will have to e-mail me to let me know when to go to the One Stop center to get the thing done.
It will be a Louisiana ID, but will be better than none at all, especially if I am overtaken with the urge to pick cucumbers for money at any time in the near future.
The Guitar Center is having a sale on a certain Fender acoustic guitar for $99.95, which I played and which sounds better than the beat up Jasmine that I now play. That would probably be only a couple thousand cucumbers...
Guitar Lessons
At the same time, I had run into a guy there who asked me if I gave guitar lessons, to which I said that I did, and told him that 20 dollars per lesson would be my fee.I used to pay 10 bucks per lesson, but that was in 1987.
He gave me his card, and I gave him Shermans number, in case he called that same evening. Now it's up to me to contact him, I guess.
I will start him off with the C major scale in all 5 positions, the way my teacher started me off. I had to practice 36 hours one week in order to get them down well enough to satisfy him so that he would give me the next set of scales: the harmonic minor scales in all 4 positions.
There are no shortcuts. If I only practiced 12 hours a particular week, my teacher would know...
Two More Weeks
It might give me time for another recording session or two at Shermans, also.
By then, it will be the hottest time of the year
Eventually, when I get somewhere that I might like to settle down, I can see about maybe joining a church and giving group lessons there at maybe 10 bucks per student.
A dozen or so Christian youths, all playing The Merry Men in unison; music to my ears!
Raining Cats And Dogs
It is raining hard outside right now.I am a dollar short of my bus fare to get downtown, but it is only 3:17 p.m., and I have another 6 hours before the last bus leaves here, to come up with one dollar, busking in front of the Chevron station.
Wow, your teacher sounds like he was TUFF.
ReplyDeleteSo um, those are the scales in the positions there I see, I"m not sure what the black vs. the white dots mean, but I'm sure I could figure them out.
It was a breakthrough for me years ago when I was thinking idly, and realized that all songs are just interesting ways of going around on a particular scale, like a squirrel playing on a given branch. And there are related scales the squirrel can jump to, like a side-branch, and then they can jump back again ... heck a song could have a zillion key changes and as long as it's done right, it'd work. But for the most part songs are one key, or maybe a change and then back.
Thus, musicians have to know scales! Your teacher wanted you to know those scales so well because you'd USE them and I bet you do.
Ya know, back when I lived in Sunnyvale, there was a guitar school near me, right across from the Kit-Kat club (Sunnyvale is noted for its girlie and dive bars). Would it have fucking killed me to take lessons for a few years, 2003-2006 say, and be prepared for the financial meltdown by being able to play guitar?
I think you could do WELL teaching lessons. You know a lot. You know, you could hold "teach ins" in a park even, where people tip you however much they can or feel like, it would be miles ahead of busking.
People (and by this I mean, myself) say there are too damn many guitars in this country and people are sick of it, but actually, in a nation of half-assed guitar players, the *good* player is esteemed, and there's always someone looking for lessons.
I think a successful guitar teacher has to have a bunch of things. Yes, a good level of competence and knowledge on the guitar. But also they have to get along well with people, be a real people person. I think you could do this.
Wow, let me tackle these one at a time;
ReplyDeleteWhen I got really serious about guitar, I asked a musician whom I looked up to, and who had gone to ($20K per year I think) Berklee College of Music in Boston, if I would really learn something if I tried to go there -their application process is an audition; you standing there naked on a stage with the whole faculty looking down their noses at you and then the headmaster say's "Ok, let's hear it, young man; and stand up straight!" LOL!
Anyways Stephan Arsenault, as that was his name said "If you really want to get better, either go to Berklee or take lessons from Mark Marquis.
I went to see Mark Marquis at his second floor apartment.
He told me to just play for a while; just the kind of stuff I mess around with when I grab the guitar "Just so I can see where you're at"
I played for a couple minutes and then he said "OK, yeah, I see where you are; I can really help you a lot; but you're going to have to practice like a maniac"
And thus he established himself as The Master; there was nothing that I could play that he hadn't played before it felt like.
I was so excited; I was going to be so good in a year; by then, he would have me playing all kinds of awesome stuff; I was sure..
Then he gave me the 5 major scales (the dark note is the "doe" or the C in C major, that's why there is a note a half step below it -the "B"- wherever it occurs)
I took them home ran through them a few times and thought OK I can play these...
Then, my second lesson he put the metronome on at about walking speed and said "Ok, play an E flat major scale in the 3rd position"
The metronome clicked a couple times as I said "Ok, E flat...that would be...umm...ok...I've got it...and before I had gotten three notes into the scale, he said "You gotta get them down better than that; come back next week and if I say 'A major in the 10th position, you should jump right in on the next click"
I was mortiied. All my plans to be playing Thelonius Monk in a year; were changed to 'What if I'm stuck on the friggin' major scale for the next year?!"
So, I practiced for 36 total hours that week; showed up nervous and pla and trembling and when he started the metronome and said A Flat in the 4th position; I jumped right on it; still made a couple of nervous mistakes but was able to jump on whatever he said.
Then, he just shrugged his shoulder and said "Alright, you got those down" and then wrote out the harmonic minor scales (from memory) and handed them to me and said "now learn these"
He had given me enough at that point to make a career in music; the discovery that practicing past a certain point really works and the major and harmonic minors Ynvea Malgsteem made a career out of the harmonic minor scale..
So ... he challenged you to practice and unlike 99% of students, you did it.
ReplyDeleteThe Internet just makes you sound like crap, though. Maybe you really *do* sound like Mark Knopfler in person, but the Internet makes you sound like a street bum.
This is why I suggest - other than maybe this blog - keeping off of the Internet as much as possible. It's counterproductive.
The Me and my Uncle into Mexicali Blues piece is one of my best; I can' see how the Internet could screw up one guitar and vocal...though
ReplyDeleteOk I went and listened to the Mexicali thing. It's OK I guess. There's not the lack of rhythm, background noise, etc of your earlier recordings. I think you're trying for the squeaky voice + jangly guitar sound that was popular in the 70s.
ReplyDeleteSince you're a street musician and I may be in time, I'm continually asking myself, Would I throw down for this song, this type of singing? I"m not sure I get most of the lyrics, "As honest as a Camel man can be"? I guess if you smoke those things, you're willing to bend society's rules a bit more to get your nicotine fix...
I got a mic called a Snowball today. I wanted a little one called the Snowflake, but Guitar Center only had their demo one, with no box, etc., but they made me a good price on the larger Snowball, which will play nice with my old Mac laptop, and hopefully I can record myself now. I tried getting a memory card for my camera and I ended up even more confused than when I started. The Snowball will likely outlive this particular laptop, which is about due to be replaced by a slightly less old used one.
The last comment took quite a while to get through. Again, I suggest, keep off of the Internet as much as possible with the exception of posting to your blog - the Internet hates anything but text. Work on sounding good and on making real friends who can help you.
ReplyDeleteOk, The lyric I used was "I'm as honest as a gambling man can be" but for the past 23 years I always wondered if that was what Bob Weir sang; I googled it and it's 'I'm as honest as a Denver Man can be" I guess that doesn't clarify it; unless his point was that there is nothing about a man that guarantees his honesty; even if he is a priest or a president or hell, from Denver Colorado; the point is that his uncle schooled him in the ways of being a villain and the guy learned so well that he killed his uncle and took the gold; his uncle died proud of the kid, I guess...
ReplyDeleteI am starting to suspect that there are a lot of bits being corrupted somewhere between the sattelite and earth; and it might be coming out squeeky on your end;
Dang it, you ruined it for me. I liked "a Camel man" hehe.
ReplyDeleteYa know, a few posts down you showed a picture of some apparently successful singing guy with a guitar and compared him to you, without a hat, or add a hat to him ... well if you look back and forth between the two pictures, you see he's got this little pointy nose like Charlie Parker did, and you've got a big ol' honker. So maybe the nose is just adding its bit. O
Now, I can't talk, because I fucking hate my voice, or what it seems to have become - it was rather good when I was young. Old age? Bad habits (both in terms of drinking etc and in terms of vocal habits)? It needs training. I've been trying to sing more, when I'm not around anyone, and paying more attention to being in tune even little "passing" notes or accents.
I have a mic now. I'll talk about it on my blog. I assume you have time to read my (boring) blog, I actually think I saw something on Blogger where I can put audio onto my blog. Otherwise I guess I'll set up an account on that thing you use.