ALSO just for fun, I’ve decided to re-paste all the “liner notes” I posted per-song last week. Like so:

1. Johnny Boy – “You are the Generation That Bought More Shoes and You Get What You Deserve”
Johnny Boy is (was?) a U.K. duo known most (if at all) for this song, a Phil Spector-like girl-group production with a bombastic title to match. It came out in 2004 and scraped its way into Pitchfork’s top 50 singles of that year, but then it came in at #121 for their decade list, so it seems to have grown in estimation over the years. With good reason. Between that chorus and the first line (“I just can’t help believing / though believing sees me cursed”), I knew I had to at least try to learn the song. I actually took a stab at it a few years ago, but I couldn’t believe the lyrics I was finding online. I basically had to wait until their debut album came out to trust that they really were singing exactly what it sounded like they were singing (“Burberry Beamers beakheads gleaming / Addidas sleek mystique reversed”, etc.). After a while, at about the same time I stumbled across a guitar rhythm that I think fit well, I came to really appreciate the stream-of-conscious wordplay. It actually sounded fantastic, and it fit the fevered blur of consumerism I assume they were attempting to skewer. The way I play it, I’m trying to make it sound like a long lost Billy Bragg song. Not sure I got there, and this thing has consistently worn out my arm, over the last few months. But it’s hella fun to play.

2. Pulp – “Common People”
The first time I heard “Common People,” it was the William Shatner version, the one recorded with Ben Folds and Joe Jackson for the Has-Been album a few years ago. Say what you will about William Shatner, he really commits to a lyric. And sure, with “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” it’s going to sound silly and surreal. But with “Common People,” it just underscores what is already a lyrically devastating song. And so he’s already sneering in his maniac spoken-word way when Joe Jackson comes in and out-bitters him on the best parts (“You will never undersdtand / how it feels to live your life / with no meaning or control.”) I literally had goosebumps the first few times I heard it. Eventually I got the Pulp version, brilliant in its more arch, British way, the nonchalance of Jarvis’s delivery almost camoflauging the “Like A Rolling Stone” bitterness of the words. Genius, envy-inducing stuff. The chords were easy to learn — quite similar to my own “Johnny Without June,” and I saddled it with the same slow country swing. I was so excited about it that I chose to play it at a friend’s weding reception happening during the same week I’d learned it. I got halfway through and cut myself off, realizing I was probably bumming everyone out. Great song, though.

3. The Bevis Frond – “He’d Be a Diamond”
The Bevis Frond is really just one guy (how pretentious!) named Nick Saloman. He’s been releasing albums for decades now, all of which are mixtures of long, sludgy, proggy jams…and brilliant, concise, British-invasion pop jems. (When I first moved to Chicago, I sold all my CD’s and just had some cassettes, including a Bevis Frond mix made by my friend Mark. It cut out the sludgy stuff and kept all the pop, so for a while I was in the dark about the schizoid nature of the ‘Frond.) So yeah, it can be a confusing listen, and in all honesty, I usually skip the long stuff. “He’d Be a Diamond” is probably the song most Bevis Frond fans would say is his “best,” a harmony-rich tale of a chronic screw-up who can’t get his girl back. Told from the perspective of a third party, I love its almost conversational asides (“And he told me just last night / that if he had his chance again”) and overall sense of humor (“Though you feel like shit / he says you look beautiful”), which only makes the sentiment of the song feel more genuine. For some reason, as soon as I learned this song, I started playing it faster and faster. I just thought it was more fun that way — like the Hamburg version of an early Beatles song, eh? My brother Scott came through town and we did it together at a show, and he thought the speed took away from the lyrics, but I kindly disagree. Anyway, feel free to judge for yourself…

4. The Killers – “When You Were Young”
The Killers are and always wanted to be a big band, and as an indie kinda guy, I’m sure I’m not “supposed” to like them, but I do because of songs like this. Sam’s Town was a notoriously crtitcal flop, yet its first single, “When You Were Young,” sounded brilliant to me. This in spite of the undeniably over-reaching lyrics (“He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus”)…but then again, also a little because of the over-reaching lyrics (“On the back of a hurricane / that started churning when you were young”). I have no idea what possessed me to try this song out, since the thing I really love about the original is the overwhelming wallop of the guitars. There was no way I could reproduce that. But I first got a clue that this could be a more refelctive song when I played the guitar lead on my parents-in-laws’ piano over Christmas break. Then when I learned the chords, I was pleased to notice how similar they were to “Hey Jelousy” by the Gin Blossoms. Once I turned the guitar lead into a Simon and Garfunkel style “lie-lie-lie” thing, it was all over. I happened to be learning the song at the same time my high school class was staging a reunion, and everyone was getting absorbed in Facebook, and…the thrust of the song just resonated with me. Time flies, etc.

5. Oasis – “The Shock of the Lightning”
I basically love Oasis because I think they’re sort of idiot-savants, songwriting-wise. As they’ve gone on, they’ve indulged in overlog intros and outros, and they’ve always recorded everything at max volume, a non-stop supersaturation of color. I happen to like these things — a sound as obnoxious as their interviews is kind of fun. But I maintain that under all the noise are some of the most brilliant, catchy melodies rock music has ever known. The “idiot” part is, of course, the lyrics — but even there, they get my respect. Noel Gallagher has always admitted to being far more interested in how a lyric SOUNDS than in what it MEANS, and for a nerdy songwriter like myself, I often forget how effective that approach can be. May lyrics like the ones in “The Shock of the Lightning” (“Love is a time machine / up on the silver screen”) ever remind me. And, as with many an Oasis refrain, the “Shock” chorus ends up producing a mantra I can fully get behind in terms of both sound AND meaning (“All in good time”). Like with the Johnny Boy song, this was an attempt to take something completely beyond the scope of a solo performance, and squeeze it into a Billy Bragg framework. As such, it’s a workout for me, but I hope it still brings out some dynamics missed in the onslaught of the original. I will say, as a rabid fan, that this song is from what’s turned out to be their last album, Dig Out Your Soul, the first side of which is, in my opinion, some of the best stuff they’ve done in years…though the rest of the record falls apart in short order on side two. Geek!

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All next week, leading up to Friday, August 13th (!!!), I’ll be celebrating / promoting the new covers E.P., I Didn’t Want to Say Anything by posting a song a day to Twitter and Facebook (links in the right sidebar.) That’s one for each weekday — and at the end of the week the whole E.P. will take its place among the “Recordings” on this site, and the streaming players on my Facebook, MySpace and ReverbNation profiles (right column again) will be stocked with all the tracks.

I’ve been listening to these songs in various settings, on various systems, and I’m pleased. Again, as usual, I tend to agonize over nothing, in the end. I also think these are sequenced well, and they make a cool little bouquet of song, if I do say so myself. It’s been fun to crank something out, no muss, no fuss. I hope you enjoy it — I remind one and all that this is going to be FREE all way round. Ooh-wee!

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It's Daniel, Son!

Well, that was weird. And yet at the same time, it makes perfect sense…

This past spring and into the summer, I homed in on a handful of cover songs, ones where I felt like I’d put a personal stamp on them. At the same time, with the arrival of my new guitar and some semi-regular gigging, I’d improved (slightly) as a player, and these covers seemed to showcase it (at least in terms of sheer speed and stamina). I wanted to record these songs, and make it snappy, have something to put out there just for fun. Only it wasn’t snappy. It was humid and my guitar kept going out of tune, week after week. And it was bringing me down.

And I was still down just earlier this week, and so I told Amy about it. She joked that rehearsing other peoples’ songs maybe wasn’t as fulfilling as rehearsing my own, since they couldn’t possibly be as good. There was actually a kernel of truth to the joke. Not that I have or ever will write a song as good as “Common People” (for example). But, you know, “personal stamps” aside, in the end the thing is written in someone else’s voice, and coming out of my larynx, those words and melodies will never quite resonate the same as my own.

I don’t know. I think maybe covers are meant to be one-offs. Learning one on a lark, seeing how the chords mesh, being surprised by it and then throwing it into a setlist to spice things up — that makes sense, it’s fun AND educational. Keeps you limber as a composer, and they’re (usually) crowd-pleasers. But playing a cover over and over again… It can be a drag. (Unless it’s a Feelies song, of course, heh.)

Plus, I’m serious about that humidity thing. I’ve been riding my bike to and from work four days a week, 10 miles each way, and the last thing I’ve wanted to do when getting home was heading to the basement and sweating some MORE. But I’d been doing it anyway, and between my overheated dispiritedness and the strings going out of tune every two minutes, it just felt like a huge uphill battle.

Then Thursday I got up and it wasn’t that humid for a change. I had regular coffee instead of iced for a change. And then, just to have something to do, I changed the strings on the guitar. Had some more coffee. And then, trying not to get my hopes up, I set up the microphone in front of the amp. Played with the dog and had some more coffee. And then I dialed up GarageBand and set up a click track. I’d been thinking a mechanical approach might help me finish the recordings. The click track lasted thirty seconds until I turned it off.

After that, it was like Karate Kid, like I’d been painting fences all summer, and now I was waxin’ on and off and on again. All that uphill battling had me more familiar with the songs than I’d realized, and all I had to do was relax into it and have FUN. And that’s exactly what I did. I did guitars, vocals, and harmonies for all five covers in about two and a half hours. I cranked the box fan between takes, dried my brow regularly with fresh bandannas (wow, which Daniel AM I?), drank plenty of water — in short, did everything I could to keep myself comfortable, and by golly. I got it done.

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Once More with Feeling

So I’m deep into recording now, which currently entails overdubs and vocals for the six songs recorded with John and Larry (the “trio songs”). I’ve forgotten what an emotionally herky-jerky experience recording can be. One day I’m convinced my guitar lines are garbage, the next day I think they’re pretty keen. One thing’s for certain: it’s best to record overdubs before vocals. This isn’t a hard and fast rule, but having to listen to a song several times over before singing it gets you more intimately familiar with its dynamics, which better prepares you to sing. Or so the sub-par, all-in-one-day vocals from a couple weeks ago lead me to believe…

I have most of the non-vocal tracks done, which is the good news. The bad news is that I’m a tad under-rehearsed for cutting vocals now. I took a break from practice after that last show, a solid week of not playing except to record. I kinda wanted to immediately record some of the faster covers I’d learned…but I just got caught up in other business. Not to worry. I plan on playing and singing every day until I feel comfortable enough to sing on the one hand…and to lay down some covers on the other.

Yeah, I don’t want to jinx it or anything, but I’m planning on a digital-only, totally-free EP of stripped-down covers. Considering all the design work and mixing to be done on the trio songs, the covers thing should be ready well beforehand. I’m just excited that some of the covers I’ve done over the last year or two have reversed my usual trend of slowing down something sprightly to find its melancholy core. (Wow, there’s a turn of phrase. Must save for future press release.) The Bevis Frond, Shakespeare’s Sister, Johnny Boy and Oasis songs are actually quite brisk, and I’d just like to capture them while I still have the stamina. I hope to dial up a boomy, room-heavy guitar sound, and then just roll tape. (Or megabytes, I guess.)

And then, after THAT, I still have the scruffier solo stuff I’ve been tooling around with since Soda & Sympathy. Those songs will form a more kitchen-sink release — some instrumentals, some fake drums, some of the slighter or goofier ideas I’ve had, plus whatever “proper songs” didn’t make it to the trio sessions.

Can I get all this done before 2011? While still playing shows? Oh, the drama.

By the way, because everyone needs a goofy name for their studio (even if said “studio” equals a basement with a handful of microphones and a years-old iBook), mine’s called French Excellence.  It was inspired by a video Scott and I were appreciating / imitating a lot during his 2009 trip here, which was the first time I’d ever used my set-up to record someone other than yours truly. Ever since, that Orson Welles picture (above) has been my screen saver on the iBook, and I continue to thrill to the man’s poetry, captured here:

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Hey Good Lookin!

Snaps on Facebook elicited huzzahs and a request to see and hear it in action. So I just shot a quick video in my office doing ‘OX4′ by Ride. I dunno, those three chords sounded good all plucked out and banjo-y, and it’s fun to wring all the rock out of this post-shoegaze classic and reduce it to something that coulda been in Emmet Otter’s Jug Band Christmas. Yes! Enjoy, and let’s have a helluva 2010!

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This past spring, I was honored to be asked to submit to the latest Coverville tribute project, Unhenged, wherein various indie artists take on songs by Spinal Tap. Initially, I thought it would be cute to do “Cups and Cakes.” Then for one weekend, when I realized how many chords it had, I was terrified. Then I just started recording, and it all fell into place, and I was delighted beyond belief. You can download the project at the link above.  The inimitable Brian Ibbott at Coverville has set up a “Radiohead model” wherein you can donate what you like.

That’s two “whereins” in one post. I think that means I’m done. But do check this out — it’s pretty spectacular!

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But no: On the way home, they just started tumbling out of me. The verbal conceit of the song could be replicated across the verses — I unlocked that much, and the rhymes just sort of hung themselves from there. And it was as effortless as could be hoped. And, as is often the case, sometimes those seemingly slight nuggets are the best.

But, you know. Give me a week and I’ll think it’s shite. Eh? Stay tuned for a demo version, maybe. This one’s for recording with Larry on drums and John on the bass, so there’s got to be a demo. Oh goodie.

Meanwhile, I did want to hep y’all to something. If you are not familiar with the podcast known as Coverville, you should make a point of doing so ASAP. It’s exactly what you’d think it is — a show chock full of cover songs, delivered at least twice a week. But aside from the music itself, what makes the show special is its host, Brian Ibbott. I find a lot of music podcasters to be cloyingly slick, but Brian seems like just a regular music geek, helming the show with real passion and personality.

Also, to be honest, dude has played me a couple times. Round about last fall, he spun my cover of Laura Brannigan’s “Gloria” (from Low Resolution). Then he was kind enough to invite me to participate in a Squeeze tribute he put together towards the end of last year. (I did “Goodbye Girl,” and it was hella fun to record.)

But the current and most exciting news in Coverville is the NEXT tribute Brian’s curating: The SPINAL TAP tribute. (Updates will be posted on this blog here.) Without thinking about it much (and since the Smithereens said they might do “Gimme Some Money”), I asked to do “Cups and Cakes.” I only vaguely remembered the song itself, more vividly recalling how funny it was in the movie, right?

Well, when I heard “Cups and Cakes” again a couple weeks ago, I was actually pretty dispirited, kinda wishing I’d picked another song. But then I basically toughed it out, figuring out the chords and the words. And when I started recording, weird vocal ideas came to me — harmonies and “whoa-oh-oh’s” — and I just rolled with it, and I ended up being extremely pleased with the results.  Folks, I actually made the thing a little funky, and decidedly fun. I almost wish I could post it right now…but I defer to the Project, of course.

Meanwhile,  I encourage you to stay tuned for updates, and to visit Coverville when you get a chance.  Peace!

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The tie is pink, by the way.

I was honored to be a part of friends Jessica and Jet’s “Not-a-Wedding” a couple of weeks ago. The State of Illinois doesn’t recognize their commitment yet, hence the name of the ceremony. I was asked to perform a song that they’d heard at me and Amy’s wedding, Ron Sexsmith’s “God Loves Everyone”–a song which we’d nicked in turn from the wedding of our friends Justin and Chris. As a wedding song, this one gets around. I understand it’s become particularly popular at same-sex events like this one, which is cool.

At Justin and Chris’ wedding, Liam Davis (from Chicago power-pop masters Frisbie) sang the song, and at the time I was deeply impressed with the line about everyone getting into heaven, “queer or straight / souls of every faith.” Speaking to Justin just a few weeks ago about the song, he enthused that it “talks about God in a way people usually don’t,” and I couldn’t agree with him more.

I remember getting the song from iTunes when it was merely a candidate for our wedding ceremony, and being on the el while listening to it in full for the first time. Receiving each lyric loud and clear, I nearly burst into tears right then and there. If there is a God, surely its omnipotence would preclude any concerns it would have with what church you went to, or if indeed you went to church at all. If there is a heaven, surely you wouldn’t be barred from it based on whether you fancied boys or girls…or both. Yes?

I’ve been phrasing things that way lately, saying “if there is a God” before my statements of faith. It’s mostly out of courtesy towards those who don’t believe in God, I guess. It’s also, cornily enough, a nod to Springsteen’s intro to one of the songs he did on VH-1′s Storytellers. I’m paraphrasing, but he said something like, “If we have any claim on the divine, it’s through our connection with each other.” Like it’s possible, but it’s not necessarily so. Like he was saying, “I’m just sayin’.”

I appreciate that kind of inclusiveness, because it’s the exclusiveness of “religious folks” that gives them such a bad rep with just about any thinking person I know. As in, “Not only are we certain that there’s a God, but we’re certain we believe in the right one, and if you believe in the wrong one, you’re going to burn.” Certainty’s a good feeling and all–I certainly like it. But the very fact that I’m writing this, that I struggle with my faith–this seems to me to be the point of it. If I just read some book one day and unlocked everything and then spent the rest of my life telling everyone I “had” the answer… How presumptuous. Not to mention unadventurous, the answers all referenced and squared away like that.

So I’m still iffy and probably will be for the rest of my life. My faith dips and halts and circles around again. “God” is a decent way to frame the narrative, and it’s convenient to use a word so many other people use…but on the other hand, when some people say it, they mean “The Guy Upstairs Who Hates Homos.” So what can you do?

I am reminded of Obama’s line about abortion. I think Rick Warren was pushing him during the campaign on whether it was basically right or wrong, and Obama said that the question was above his “pay-grade.” So it is with me and God, I think. If you claim to KNOW one way or the other, then you have to know that many people disagree, and so you risk being disrespectful at best, dogmatic and intolerant at worst. It’s better, I think, to frame it with an “if.” Better, I think, to not really think of it as an argument in the first place, a debate to win or lose. And, okay, if it IS an argument, then I’m willing to admit, since we’re talking about something supposedly gigantic and un-graspable, that it’s one that is way above my pay-grade.

Meanwhile, if it’s not an argument, and if it’s anything like the Boss suggests, I get to connect with people and continue the struggle. The unsure verb of it sustains me in spite of its flux, in spite of its built-in uncertainty. I don’t think I’d have it any other way. Or, as Jessica’s mom hollered at the conclusion of my song, “amen.”

“God Loves Everyone”
by Ron Sexsmith

God loves everyone
Like a mother loves her son
No strings at all
Unconditional
Never one to judge
Would never hold a grudge
About what’s been done
God loves everyone

There are no gates in heaven
Everyone gets in
Queer or straight
Souls of every faith
Hell is in our minds
Hell is in this life
But when it’s gone
God takes everyon

Its love is like a womb
It’s like the air from room to room
It surrounds us all
The living and the dead
May we never lose the thread
That bound us all

The killer in his cell
The atheist as well
The pure of heart
And the wild at heart
Are all worthy of its grace
It’s written in the face
Of everyone
God loves everyone

There’s no need to be saved
No need to be afraid
Cause when it’s done
God takes everyone

God loves everyone

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When You Were Young [One-Mike Demo]

p.s. I’d like to send this one out to the class of ’89.

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Spirit of 91 [One-Mike Demo]

Somebody’s Baby [One-Mike Demo]

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