Zapruder Point
Consumer/Songwriter

Bury The Lead [One Mike Demo]

This is a song I’ve been chipping away at for what seems like forever but is probably more like a year. I definitely pictured it as a grand recording, with an anthemic twin-guitar outro, like Thin Lizzy meets U2’s “Mothers of the Disappeared.” The shoestring-budget version of this vision is in the middle of being pieced together, but in the meantime, I kept practicing this in simpler form, to be ready to sing it. And I realized that, if strummed quickly on the acoustic, it works as a Jeff Tweedy solo kind of thing.

Lyrically, it’s another note-to-self, I guess. About all the distractions that tend to clog me up. And they’re everywhere, and it’s hard. But not impossible.

“Bury the Lead”

sunlight burns through evening’s pall
on for rent signs and dropped calls
a million of us funnel
by bicycle and tunnel
to our stacks of stalls

and papers fold right up the street
and papers fold literally
but what’s tricky doesn’t matter
we’ll just cover it in batter
until it barely breathes

closing bells are no escape
from billboards giving me the shakes
it’s just sodium and nitrates
so why can’t i wait
for a proper pace

you’re begging me to bury the lead
run it now but bury the lead
well people aren’t pixels
and words are more than whistles

EverybodyLooksLikeSomebodyElse

Not a whole lot to this one, but it’s fun. You wouldn’t believe how many takes I needed to get the dumb little gentle guitar line. Lyrically, I imagine this phrase morphing in meaning from comfort to terror and back. Because it’s true, you know.

Shortly after moving to Chicago, I realized I couldn’t swing an apartment by myself, and so was looking for a roommate. Mutual friends hooked me up with Tom, future drummer for the “classic trio” version of Zapruder Point. Getting to be friends with Tom was one of the more serendipitous things to happen in my adult life.

No less cherished was the friendship I formed with my next roommate, John Aselin. Again, the arrangement was born out of us having mutual friends, but we got to know each other very well, and we ended up playing guitar at each others’ weddings. Aside from being a funny, laid back guy like myself (heh), John has also pretty-much always written songs, pretty-much always recorded them, and pretty-much always assembled them into albums that he puts out himself. Sound familiar?

Musically our styles are pretty different — John’s well-versed in British Invasion and Nuggets stuff, and he can play, erm, at least three more instruments than me. But in conversations at the apartment and since, we’ve struggled with shared issues inherent to songwriting: economy of phrase, how and when to use solos, etc. In short, he’s been a comrade and an inspiration.

And he’s got a new “CD” out. I put the CD in quotes because John’s going “the Radiohead route” on this one, making it downloadable from his website on a pay-what-you-like basis. Not only that, John’s giving the same treatment to his back catalogue. I remember playing these older albums of his all the time when he wasn’t around, and it was amazing how each album had a specific vibe, from the sequencing to the cover. I mean, he was as deliberate and thoughtful about putting these things together as I hoped I was being with my stuff.

Anyway, I would say that dipping into his older stuff is worth it, but what I’m really here to endorse is the new one, Ever Near the Distance. I’ve been listening to it heavily for weeks; it’s just a tight, concise pop-rock record, bursting with hooks, a couple white-hot guitar freak-outs, and just as many gorgeous, reflective moments. In short, many flavors jammed into one smile-inducing half hour. You can preview the whole thing (and all the other stuff) here:

http://www.johnaselin.com/music.php

I’ve known for a few weeks — more like months, really — that there was a period of time looming where my job was going to be, for a few months or so, brain-crushingly tedious and boring. Until this recent shift in duties (and office space, and don’t get me started), I wore quite a few geeky hats, and the folks I work with were supportive of that, even if I lacked the immediate technical know-how. In other words, they let me jump in, and learn my way. And I’ve learned a lot, and built a lot. But now this looming period of mind-crushingly dull work is upon me, and I’m wearing just the one hat, and although it hurts me to admit it, what it mostly says on this hat is — gulp — “DATA ENTRY.”

Don’t get me wrong. I am of course grateful to have a job at all. I’m also confident that this period will end, and a more interesting project will take its place. But in the meantime, I’m struggling to avoid getting into that mindset where, BECAUSE my work-time is so tedious, I then use my non-work time exclusively for “recovery” from it. And back again. And so on. I wrote about that in my last post, the “hill and trough” mentality, and how music is a way out of it.

Indeed. Towards that end, I’ve contacted John and Larry again to set up a future recording date. I hope they don’t shiver to learn I’d like to try cutting “You Are Not Your Own” again. Y’see, as I actually zero in on a complete set of lyrics, it’s clear to me that the structure isn’t going to be as loosey-goosey as I’d initially thought it could be. Also, rather unexpectedly, I have a line on a possible barely-out-of-state gig. That’s purely in the fact-finding stages, but it would be pretty cool to do. Finally, I’m going to do some kind of self-promotional blitz on this upcoming Tuesday, since I’m taking the day off for a doctor’s appointment anyway. I have generous sick days, and they always tell people to take more of them, so I do. Normally, I just kind of bum around on “doctor days,” but this time I’ll also be on kind of a mission. When I dipped back into gig-getting recently, I assumed that email and facebook and all that was the way to go, but this has proven rather silent. (Either that, or I suck so much people are embarrassed to get back to me, heh.) I think I need to employ a little more of the “personal touch,” dropping off a CD with a note or something. For some places. Even if I just send fresh emails out to new places, or make calls on Tuesday, it’ll be a good day.

Because I can’t let the drudgery turn me into a slug. Musically or otherwise. Thanks for bearing witness, and stay tuned. I’m getting practiced enough again to lay down a one-miker soon, and I’ll try to get the birthday party stuff off of cassette, too…

So I went straight from that mid-October show into a two week period of intense “what-I-get-paid-to-do” type work, during which I pretty much didn’t touch the guitar at all. And now I am paying the price. In the fading of finger callouses, yes, and in a cracked “au gratin” voice. But also in the mental shakes that I’ve come to recognize as Practice Withdrawal. I’ve expressed dismay in here before, when I’m well practiced, as to why I’d ever let myself get rusty. But here I am, fairly fresh from a longish stretch of inactivity, and I’m no clearer on why I let it happen than I was three months ago.

Actually, that’s not true. On the one hand, I was busy with work. And on the other I am — or at least can be — kinda lazy. Not even lazy, just… I’ve been thinking about this a lot, actually. I think it’s too easy to configure your life in this hill and trough pattern, where you’re either suffering through something unenjoyable, or you’re “treating” yourself to some (potentially unhealthy, or just dumb) leisure activity. You think you’ve earned it because you think you’ve suffered, and so now you’re rewarding yourself.

Bridge that into your own sociological musings, if you will. All I know is that music, for me, is an antidote to the pattern. It’s a third thing — not work, not leisure, but somewhere in between. It’s a lot more than that, of course, but I don’t want to get too fruity on you. Just suffice it to say that I’m back into picking up the guitar again, and it’s made all the difference in the world.

AND, when I practiced for the first time since the drought earlier this week, right away I thought of something archival to post — a big group sing of “This Land is Your Land” from my birthday party a couple years ago. (Gotta find it on the cassette!) And I realized how close I was to finishing this one set of lyrics, so I had the notebook with me on the train the next day. And I thought about doing a one-mike demo of this newish song, since it works as well that way as it does with bells and whistles in Garageband. And today I played bass and programmed some beats and took a listen to the stuff I did with John and Larry in August and strategized a completion plan for that…

That’s what I think paralyzes me during those time-outs. There’s so MUCH to do, in a way — it doesn’t stop. But then once I’m back in it, I see that all of this “too much” is just too much of a GOOD thing, so what’s my problem? Just Pick a Card, Any Card, right?