In the great, epic expansion west that marks American history, some may think it ironic that it all culminated in only one truly new experience for Western civilization: surfing. I'm inclined to think it was worth it.
I penned the paragraph above in my journal some time ago, clearly in a Hunter Thompson state of mind. When I reread it later, I decided I need to create a surfer song. Thus Surfing & Civilization was born.
Starting out, the key was to find the right guitar sound. I searched for awhile, experimenting with the different software guitars that I had. I never got to that classic surfer sound but one of Logic's stock guitars was sounding pretty good to me and, toying around with it, I stumbled on a set of chords and riff that really rocked. Close enough, I thought, I began to build the song.
I divided the song into two parts, the quiet section and the rockin' section. The quiet section is supposed to represent choppy surf and the sort of melancholy waiting around for the big waves. The rockin' section is the big waves coming in. (Disclaimer: I've never surfed a day in my life.) There's a key change between the parts and I use a solo bass run to make the transition. I had to work hard to get the bass to sound just right and be able to carry the song through both parts.
The drums are recorded live -- many takes with the best bits turned to loops then spliced together. This is how I got good at making audio loops with Logic. Curiously, despite all the time I took tweaking the guitar sounds, adjusting the bass and creating drum loops, it's the driving organ that steals the show. It was the clear choice for the big solo at the end.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Rubicon - Have you crossed yours today?
This one started out with me messing around with the symphonic software instruments I'd obtained recently. Using a string bass section I came up with a brooding riff that didn't seem to have any direct reference to a standard key or chord - F#-A-C#-D-C#-F. Then I added French horn crescendos using combination of the notes above followed by a violin section playing notes in tremolo. The effect is kind of like that of an old horror movie score. To top it off I went to a trumpet section building to a high pitch with cymbals and kettle drum rolls.
Not wanting to pursue the piece as some sort of kitsch classical work, I crashed it into a kind blaring, droning rock riff with bass, two guitars and drums, still using the same notes above. One guitar playing echoy single notes and the other playing the chords: F#-A-C# followed by F-Bb-D. (Here I'm adding the Bb which seems to fit the group.)
At this point, I really didn't know where to go. I named the piece "Rubicon." I had in mind that the song would start out tense, chilling and abrasive - apprehension, angst, etc. before crossing the point of no return - then become mellower, a kind of coming to terms with the crossing. But this strange set of notes didn't seem to want to resolve itself into anything. I ask Greg (the music major). He said I was using what's called chord colors and they tend not to resolve themselves.
So I cheated or maybe cheaped out. I ended the big guitar riff with drum fill and a crash going into a drum beat solo. Then using a kind of staccato bass riff, I hurl the song into a D major key (with kind of minorish feel) and take off from there. I switch the lead instruments from electric guitars to electric piano, flute and dobro. I climax the tune with a double-time beat and flute riff that sounds a little like foot-stompin' Celtic music.
Rubicon clocks in at close to 6 minutes. I'm not sure if this rambling progression of stuff really works but it was certainly an instructive piece.
Not wanting to pursue the piece as some sort of kitsch classical work, I crashed it into a kind blaring, droning rock riff with bass, two guitars and drums, still using the same notes above. One guitar playing echoy single notes and the other playing the chords: F#-A-C# followed by F-Bb-D. (Here I'm adding the Bb which seems to fit the group.)
At this point, I really didn't know where to go. I named the piece "Rubicon." I had in mind that the song would start out tense, chilling and abrasive - apprehension, angst, etc. before crossing the point of no return - then become mellower, a kind of coming to terms with the crossing. But this strange set of notes didn't seem to want to resolve itself into anything. I ask Greg (the music major). He said I was using what's called chord colors and they tend not to resolve themselves.
So I cheated or maybe cheaped out. I ended the big guitar riff with drum fill and a crash going into a drum beat solo. Then using a kind of staccato bass riff, I hurl the song into a D major key (with kind of minorish feel) and take off from there. I switch the lead instruments from electric guitars to electric piano, flute and dobro. I climax the tune with a double-time beat and flute riff that sounds a little like foot-stompin' Celtic music.
Rubicon clocks in at close to 6 minutes. I'm not sure if this rambling progression of stuff really works but it was certainly an instructive piece.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
High Space Drifter
Continuing with the theme of creating a sound environment I came up with this ditty: High Space Drifter.
Here I was imagining a band of vagabonds playing in a nearly empty hold of some space cargo freighter. Needless to say I used a bit of reverb on this one. Also, I used effects filters (echo, flange, etc.) to alter each of the instruments: guitar, horn, bass, percussion. I imagined these as being some sort of future variety that was reminiscent of traditional instruments but not quite the same.
Which brings me to a point about virtual or software instruments. Here I worked hard to get them to sound like they may have been blown or plucked (as opposed to tapping the melodies out on the keyboard). I think I made strides in improving my technique but I also realized the project of recreating the richness of an expertly played guitar or trumpet is probably hopeless and certainly not worth pursuing.
I think the value and fun of virtual instruments is to use them on their own terms and not try to pass them off as the real thing. I offer High Space Drifter as an example of doing that. Some of the results are little surprising. There are a couple of guitar licks at the end that may well be impossible to play on a real guitar (unless you have three hands).
Here I was imagining a band of vagabonds playing in a nearly empty hold of some space cargo freighter. Needless to say I used a bit of reverb on this one. Also, I used effects filters (echo, flange, etc.) to alter each of the instruments: guitar, horn, bass, percussion. I imagined these as being some sort of future variety that was reminiscent of traditional instruments but not quite the same.
Which brings me to a point about virtual or software instruments. Here I worked hard to get them to sound like they may have been blown or plucked (as opposed to tapping the melodies out on the keyboard). I think I made strides in improving my technique but I also realized the project of recreating the richness of an expertly played guitar or trumpet is probably hopeless and certainly not worth pursuing.
I think the value and fun of virtual instruments is to use them on their own terms and not try to pass them off as the real thing. I offer High Space Drifter as an example of doing that. Some of the results are little surprising. There are a couple of guitar licks at the end that may well be impossible to play on a real guitar (unless you have three hands).
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Sound Environment & Paris Jungle
A little more than a year ago, I suppose, I was reading Frank Zappa's autobiography, "The Real Frank Zappa Book." In it he talked a little about creating a sound environment for his studio music when he mixed it. That was something I hadn't given much thought to. Generally, the idea Zappa was pursuing was, given that many of the instruments were recorded separately, to make them sound as if they were all playing in the same environment, or room.
The main tool for this these days seems to be reverb. You introduce a varying level of reverb to each track so all the instruments sound like they're in the same space. On some tracks you might not add any, say drums recorded in an open space. But to get a guitar that had been close mic'd to sound like it was playing in the same room, you'd need to add a little reverb to it.
Zappa didn't say much about that but he did mention another method, that of introducing a track of low-level white noise which would produce an illusion that all the tracks were in the same space. That made me think that a candidate for that would be a ride cymbal (think of those wonderfully unified old jazz recordings).
With that in mind, I came up with a quicky bass line and then recorded my drums to that using a quick but simple back beat and keeping the pulse on my ride cymbal (Zildjian 20" ping ride), playing the middle, not the bell. Then I added a kind of cheesy electric piano ditty and a bongo track. I believe it worked. The white noise of the ride cymbal had the effect of unifying the instruments even though I made no reverb or equalizer adjustments to the tracks.
For fun, I decided to change the environment. I went to a more driving rim-shot percussion (still playing the ride) with a slapped bass with echo effects. And I added some distortion to the electric piano. I also introduced some reverb to each track. I had gone from one environment to another. Then I did it again with more echo effects, reverb and heavy distortion on all tracks. The result is rather severe and intense. I ended the song by fading back into lighter environment of the beginning.
The song is called Paris Jungle.
The working mental image I used was that of some French girl riding a Vespa through the streets of Paris and narrowly escaping a collision with other traffic. I'm still working with GarageBand here and the drums are still pretty lo-fi.
The main tool for this these days seems to be reverb. You introduce a varying level of reverb to each track so all the instruments sound like they're in the same space. On some tracks you might not add any, say drums recorded in an open space. But to get a guitar that had been close mic'd to sound like it was playing in the same room, you'd need to add a little reverb to it.
Zappa didn't say much about that but he did mention another method, that of introducing a track of low-level white noise which would produce an illusion that all the tracks were in the same space. That made me think that a candidate for that would be a ride cymbal (think of those wonderfully unified old jazz recordings).
With that in mind, I came up with a quicky bass line and then recorded my drums to that using a quick but simple back beat and keeping the pulse on my ride cymbal (Zildjian 20" ping ride), playing the middle, not the bell. Then I added a kind of cheesy electric piano ditty and a bongo track. I believe it worked. The white noise of the ride cymbal had the effect of unifying the instruments even though I made no reverb or equalizer adjustments to the tracks.
For fun, I decided to change the environment. I went to a more driving rim-shot percussion (still playing the ride) with a slapped bass with echo effects. And I added some distortion to the electric piano. I also introduced some reverb to each track. I had gone from one environment to another. Then I did it again with more echo effects, reverb and heavy distortion on all tracks. The result is rather severe and intense. I ended the song by fading back into lighter environment of the beginning.
The song is called Paris Jungle.
The working mental image I used was that of some French girl riding a Vespa through the streets of Paris and narrowly escaping a collision with other traffic. I'm still working with GarageBand here and the drums are still pretty lo-fi.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Remote Possibility
A couple of months ago, out of the blue, a guy named Matt Love contacted me via email about the possibility of some kind of online collaboration. He went on with some spiel about how on Last FM, our music had earned the rare designation of "abnormal." We exchanged some joking emails. I was amused and intrigued and thought what the hell. So we hemmed and hawed about how we would do it. Finally, Matt sent me some lyrics with a vague notion that it would be a countryish truck-diver song.
I liked the lyrics and fiddled with a software banjo until I came of with a line that resembled an actual banjo. I then bracketed it with a dobro bit. I set these to a quickly worked-up bass line and click track. It was very up-tempo, about 200 bpm. I added some talking lyrics (I can't sing) and sent it to Matt. He liked the instrumentation but struggled to come up with a vocal melody. So he shopped around for someone to do the vocals.
Well, the project sat around for a month or more until suddenly, Matt's friend, Vincent sends Matt a workup of the whole song complete with vocals, effects, piano, harp and guitar. I was tickled by it. But, being a budding sound engineer, I wanted to remix it. Fortunately, Vincent's individual tracks were available for download. I re-did the bass and drums and came up with a mix that, apparently, everybody was happy with.
Here it is ... Coked Up in Kentucky
The artist here is Remote Possibility, Matt's online band brainchild. It appears that some of the stories about the band may be fictionalized.
I liked the lyrics and fiddled with a software banjo until I came of with a line that resembled an actual banjo. I then bracketed it with a dobro bit. I set these to a quickly worked-up bass line and click track. It was very up-tempo, about 200 bpm. I added some talking lyrics (I can't sing) and sent it to Matt. He liked the instrumentation but struggled to come up with a vocal melody. So he shopped around for someone to do the vocals.
Well, the project sat around for a month or more until suddenly, Matt's friend, Vincent sends Matt a workup of the whole song complete with vocals, effects, piano, harp and guitar. I was tickled by it. But, being a budding sound engineer, I wanted to remix it. Fortunately, Vincent's individual tracks were available for download. I re-did the bass and drums and came up with a mix that, apparently, everybody was happy with.
Here it is ... Coked Up in Kentucky
The artist here is Remote Possibility, Matt's online band brainchild. It appears that some of the stories about the band may be fictionalized.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Serendipity & CO2 Scrubber
One of the great things about making and mixing music with modern software is the role serendipity can play. With CO2 Scrubber I was messing around with an echoey synthesizer patch which was sounding nice with a drum & bass line I'd come up with. Looking for a counterpoint, I played a plucking mandolin line. It just so happened the echoes of the synthesizer syncopated perfectly with the mandolin, creating pretty trippy effect. I laughed out loud when I first heard it. I use it at the beginning and end of the song.
As I was getting rolling on this one (June 2006), I had been watching a documentary about the Apollo 13 mission so I decided to build the song around that. This gave me an organizing theme: normal operation -> explosion -> frenzied anxiety -> solution -> triumphant return -> normal operation. (More about using a story later.)
I was still working with GarageBand at the time and still recording drums with a single stereo mic, but it represented my most complex effort to date and sort of culmination of the skills I'd developed so far. For the explosion, I put a couple of bricks at the bottom of a large cardboard box, hung my mic over it and hurled beer bottles at the bricks. It didn't turn out as good as I'd hoped, even with effects added, but it was fun.
As I was getting rolling on this one (June 2006), I had been watching a documentary about the Apollo 13 mission so I decided to build the song around that. This gave me an organizing theme: normal operation -> explosion -> frenzied anxiety -> solution -> triumphant return -> normal operation. (More about using a story later.)
I was still working with GarageBand at the time and still recording drums with a single stereo mic, but it represented my most complex effort to date and sort of culmination of the skills I'd developed so far. For the explosion, I put a couple of bricks at the bottom of a large cardboard box, hung my mic over it and hurled beer bottles at the bricks. It didn't turn out as good as I'd hoped, even with effects added, but it was fun.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Sputnik Tears
Jumping to the present, I just uploaded a new one: Sputnik Tears.
This effort began with wanting to learn how to extract a sample from an existing song and turn it into a loop. I wanted something in the public domain, not wanting to worry about copyright issues, so I thought something from Django Reinhardt's 1930s recordings might work. I listened to quite a bit of stuff before I came across Django's introductory line to a song called "Tears." I really liked the feel of it and it was clean (there's a quiet bass keeping quarter notes but nothing else going on).
Before I imported the audio file to Logic Express, I used a metronome to figure out the tempo, about 58 bpm (beats per minute). Once in Logic, I snipped off everything but the line I wanted and went to work on turning it into a loop. The tricky part is cutting it at just the right spot so the sound is smooth when it loops back to the beginning. Also, the tempo didn't match perfectly (it was close) so I needed to use a tool in Logic that will stretch or compress the sample to the nearest bar. After considerable trial and error, I got a smooth loop. And, boy, was I pleased with myself.
What to do with it? I had no idea.
The loop sat around for a couple of months. I knew the next step was to figure out what key Django's guitar riff was in and the basic notes. It was going to be chore for me because I don't have trained ear for it and I'd have to hunt and peck as best I could. I put it off. But one day I played it for my piano-playing friend, Greg, who has actual music training. He identified the key immediately as blues in C (kind of minorish blues). And he showed me the notes of the bass line.
Now I was off and running. I fiddled and diddled with different instruments to go with it and opted for clarinet, electric bass and drums. I worked up a quicky drum & bass loop and started playing leads with the clarinet (on midi keyboard, of course). To make a long story short, I worked up a lead with staccato at first and then went to legato. Then I recorded live drums to the piece. Feeling like I needed some sort of counter-melody, I added piano (a sampled clangy upright). Also, the bass was sounding too loopy so I played a bass line through the whole segment. I ended up with a nice loose, bluesy, improvised feel.
As I was doing all this, I had read a number things about Sputnik, being the 50th anniversary of its launch. I was also reading a book about a group of scientists that work on secret defense projects, the Jasons, who got their start largely as a result of Sputnik.
While I was liking what I had put together, it wasn't feeling like a song yet. In my experimentations with instruments, I came across a heavy synth bass sound that caught my ear. It was dark and foreboding and sounded pretty cool when I played it using the notes of the bass line above: C, Eb, D, G. It also sounded pretty cool when I plugged it in at the end of the jazzy part.
Okay, here's the song: a kind of melancholy jazz tune morphing into a techno monstrosity. The idea being maybe to catch some of the angst of those Sputnik years when the Soviets seemed to be lording it over the U.S. technologically.
I read that Sputnik put out radio beeps that HAM operators could hear. I thought there must be something on the web and there was. I couldn't find a file to download so I recorded the beeps from streamed audio. It's scratchy anyway, so sound quality wasn't a big issue. I turned the beeps into a loop and used it to introduce the song. I wanted to give an effect of arcing across the speakers so I used track automation on the volume and pan. I thought a doppler shift would be cool too, so I figured out how to automate the equalizer. I'm not sure it sounds exactly as I'd hoped but I think it works well enough.
This effort began with wanting to learn how to extract a sample from an existing song and turn it into a loop. I wanted something in the public domain, not wanting to worry about copyright issues, so I thought something from Django Reinhardt's 1930s recordings might work. I listened to quite a bit of stuff before I came across Django's introductory line to a song called "Tears." I really liked the feel of it and it was clean (there's a quiet bass keeping quarter notes but nothing else going on).
Before I imported the audio file to Logic Express, I used a metronome to figure out the tempo, about 58 bpm (beats per minute). Once in Logic, I snipped off everything but the line I wanted and went to work on turning it into a loop. The tricky part is cutting it at just the right spot so the sound is smooth when it loops back to the beginning. Also, the tempo didn't match perfectly (it was close) so I needed to use a tool in Logic that will stretch or compress the sample to the nearest bar. After considerable trial and error, I got a smooth loop. And, boy, was I pleased with myself.
What to do with it? I had no idea.
The loop sat around for a couple of months. I knew the next step was to figure out what key Django's guitar riff was in and the basic notes. It was going to be chore for me because I don't have trained ear for it and I'd have to hunt and peck as best I could. I put it off. But one day I played it for my piano-playing friend, Greg, who has actual music training. He identified the key immediately as blues in C (kind of minorish blues). And he showed me the notes of the bass line.
Now I was off and running. I fiddled and diddled with different instruments to go with it and opted for clarinet, electric bass and drums. I worked up a quicky drum & bass loop and started playing leads with the clarinet (on midi keyboard, of course). To make a long story short, I worked up a lead with staccato at first and then went to legato. Then I recorded live drums to the piece. Feeling like I needed some sort of counter-melody, I added piano (a sampled clangy upright). Also, the bass was sounding too loopy so I played a bass line through the whole segment. I ended up with a nice loose, bluesy, improvised feel.
As I was doing all this, I had read a number things about Sputnik, being the 50th anniversary of its launch. I was also reading a book about a group of scientists that work on secret defense projects, the Jasons, who got their start largely as a result of Sputnik.
While I was liking what I had put together, it wasn't feeling like a song yet. In my experimentations with instruments, I came across a heavy synth bass sound that caught my ear. It was dark and foreboding and sounded pretty cool when I played it using the notes of the bass line above: C, Eb, D, G. It also sounded pretty cool when I plugged it in at the end of the jazzy part.
Okay, here's the song: a kind of melancholy jazz tune morphing into a techno monstrosity. The idea being maybe to catch some of the angst of those Sputnik years when the Soviets seemed to be lording it over the U.S. technologically.
I read that Sputnik put out radio beeps that HAM operators could hear. I thought there must be something on the web and there was. I couldn't find a file to download so I recorded the beeps from streamed audio. It's scratchy anyway, so sound quality wasn't a big issue. I turned the beeps into a loop and used it to introduce the song. I wanted to give an effect of arcing across the speakers so I used track automation on the volume and pan. I thought a doppler shift would be cool too, so I figured out how to automate the equalizer. I'm not sure it sounds exactly as I'd hoped but I think it works well enough.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Getting Started
My current obsession with making music probably started a couple of years ago when I met a guy at work, Tom, who played bass and guitar. We hit it off pretty well and our jamming session re-awakened my enthusiasm for making music.
Things really got going, though, when I bought my iBook which came loaded with GarageBand. Suddenly there was this possibility of creating and recording music that hadn't been there before. I had been cultivating an interest in drum 'n bass/techno/dub music and wondered how they did it. When I looked into it, though, it seemed a little inaccessible. It required a considerable investment in equipment and I wasn't sure if I'd really take to it or not. But today's fast computers, which allow playing software instruments in real time without other dedicated hardware, changed the picture. As well as simplified sequencing programs like GarageBand that make getting started a lot easier.
Okay, gee, I've got these software instruments, a sequencer, a keyboard, an amp and pre-amp (about $600 not counting the computer). What do I do with it? I figured I'd better learn about things like notes and chords and stuff. So I bought a sort of keyboard-for-dummies book which basically just lays out the basic chords and scales in easy-to-read keyboard diagrams.
I then would load up something like a software electric bass, pick a chord, and start banging the keys. That's how the magic started to happen. Playing the drums, I guess, has given me a pretty strong rhythmic sensibility. I'd try different rhythmic patterns with different notes until something started to sound good. When that happened, I'd hit record and try to play the riff in time to the metronome. Eventually, I'd nail it well enough that through the wonders of GarageBand, I could turn it into a loop.
Armed with a looping bass line, I'd set up an audio track, put on some headphones, and play my drums to it. Once I found a good beat, I'd press record and play a bunch of measures (30 to 60 depending on tempo). My drumming isn't always as precise as I'd like it to be but in the span of 60 measures, there's usually a segment or two played accurately enough that I could turn the beat into a loop.
That's when the real fun begins. With drum and bass loops going, I can start playing melodic bits over it with other software instruments, creating loops as I go. Before long a song starts to develop.
Probably my first noteworthy example I called The Riveter. It's basically variations on the B flat blues scale with different vintage syths. Another thing that I did here was to play fills with my drums, make loops out of them, and plug them at the changes. I was delighted how seemless it sounded. The music is coarse, amusingly simplistic and the drums are super lo-fi (I recorded them with one cheap stereo microphone).
Things really got going, though, when I bought my iBook which came loaded with GarageBand. Suddenly there was this possibility of creating and recording music that hadn't been there before. I had been cultivating an interest in drum 'n bass/techno/dub music and wondered how they did it. When I looked into it, though, it seemed a little inaccessible. It required a considerable investment in equipment and I wasn't sure if I'd really take to it or not. But today's fast computers, which allow playing software instruments in real time without other dedicated hardware, changed the picture. As well as simplified sequencing programs like GarageBand that make getting started a lot easier.
Okay, gee, I've got these software instruments, a sequencer, a keyboard, an amp and pre-amp (about $600 not counting the computer). What do I do with it? I figured I'd better learn about things like notes and chords and stuff. So I bought a sort of keyboard-for-dummies book which basically just lays out the basic chords and scales in easy-to-read keyboard diagrams.
I then would load up something like a software electric bass, pick a chord, and start banging the keys. That's how the magic started to happen. Playing the drums, I guess, has given me a pretty strong rhythmic sensibility. I'd try different rhythmic patterns with different notes until something started to sound good. When that happened, I'd hit record and try to play the riff in time to the metronome. Eventually, I'd nail it well enough that through the wonders of GarageBand, I could turn it into a loop.
Armed with a looping bass line, I'd set up an audio track, put on some headphones, and play my drums to it. Once I found a good beat, I'd press record and play a bunch of measures (30 to 60 depending on tempo). My drumming isn't always as precise as I'd like it to be but in the span of 60 measures, there's usually a segment or two played accurately enough that I could turn the beat into a loop.
That's when the real fun begins. With drum and bass loops going, I can start playing melodic bits over it with other software instruments, creating loops as I go. Before long a song starts to develop.
Probably my first noteworthy example I called The Riveter. It's basically variations on the B flat blues scale with different vintage syths. Another thing that I did here was to play fills with my drums, make loops out of them, and plug them at the changes. I was delighted how seemless it sounded. The music is coarse, amusingly simplistic and the drums are super lo-fi (I recorded them with one cheap stereo microphone).
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Elevon
With this post I was planning to go over one or two of my early efforts and explain how I got going on this music thing. But I just posted a new one to archive.org, Elevon, and thought I'd talk about that since it was fresh in my mind.
Setting out with Elevon, I was looking for a quieter, minimalist sound. But it does reflect my basic MO -- dink around with a couple of chords or a scale with various instruments until something starts to work. In this case I was drawn to E-flat and F elevenths (hence the name, Elevon, which is actually an airplane part). I found a nice bass sound/riff at pretty slow tempo (78 bpm) and worked up a drum part.
Then fishing around for melodic instruments, I tried this software recorder. I liked the woody tone and the sustained line I came up with in the middle of the chords but it wasn't working as a lead instrument. I had just picked up Apple's Symphony Orchestra Jam Pack which came with a software Steinway. I tried that and, boy, I liked the tone. So combined the notes of the two chords into a scale and started playing up and down on it against the bass/drum rhythm. For whatever reason, it just wasn't sounding right.
A couple nights later, I'd had a little wine and was feeling a little melancholy. So I sat down to the keyboard and hit record. The lead solo just came out, nothing fancy but it worked in my estimation. So I built the song around that. I worked hard to give the drums a natural feel so it didn't sound too loopy.
Then I thought, how about a key change. So I worked up a funky bass line using C-sharp and B elevenths and a piano riff using a portion of the chords. My idea was to have the recorder blow a solo over that. Try as I might, over several nights, and with help from my friend Greg, a real keyboard player, I couldn't make it work. We tried to replace the recorder with a cello. Greg laid down some nice lines (he thought the piano solo needed a melodic counter point), but nothing really sat well with me. (I concluded the piano solo had to stand on its own otherwise it's flavor was lost.)
Anyway, I ended up using the recorder riff I started out with, just adjusted to the new chords. The end of Elevon sounds a little smooth-jazzish. This struck me as a good time to fade it out.
Mixing the song, I didn't have to do much. I had to separate out the kick drum and turn it down because it was too strong. I used some EQ on the bass to tone down the low end which was making the song a little muddy. I added a touch of reverb to the instruments (very little to the piano) and bounced to AIFF.
Setting out with Elevon, I was looking for a quieter, minimalist sound. But it does reflect my basic MO -- dink around with a couple of chords or a scale with various instruments until something starts to work. In this case I was drawn to E-flat and F elevenths (hence the name, Elevon, which is actually an airplane part). I found a nice bass sound/riff at pretty slow tempo (78 bpm) and worked up a drum part.
Then fishing around for melodic instruments, I tried this software recorder. I liked the woody tone and the sustained line I came up with in the middle of the chords but it wasn't working as a lead instrument. I had just picked up Apple's Symphony Orchestra Jam Pack which came with a software Steinway. I tried that and, boy, I liked the tone. So combined the notes of the two chords into a scale and started playing up and down on it against the bass/drum rhythm. For whatever reason, it just wasn't sounding right.
A couple nights later, I'd had a little wine and was feeling a little melancholy. So I sat down to the keyboard and hit record. The lead solo just came out, nothing fancy but it worked in my estimation. So I built the song around that. I worked hard to give the drums a natural feel so it didn't sound too loopy.
Then I thought, how about a key change. So I worked up a funky bass line using C-sharp and B elevenths and a piano riff using a portion of the chords. My idea was to have the recorder blow a solo over that. Try as I might, over several nights, and with help from my friend Greg, a real keyboard player, I couldn't make it work. We tried to replace the recorder with a cello. Greg laid down some nice lines (he thought the piano solo needed a melodic counter point), but nothing really sat well with me. (I concluded the piano solo had to stand on its own otherwise it's flavor was lost.)
Anyway, I ended up using the recorder riff I started out with, just adjusted to the new chords. The end of Elevon sounds a little smooth-jazzish. This struck me as a good time to fade it out.
Mixing the song, I didn't have to do much. I had to separate out the kick drum and turn it down because it was too strong. I used some EQ on the bass to tone down the low end which was making the song a little muddy. I added a touch of reverb to the instruments (very little to the piano) and bounced to AIFF.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Introducing Harmsichord
It's kind of a silly pun/name that I thought of years ago when dreaming about becoming a rocker. I don't dream about that any more. In fact, the idea of being a rocker doesn't seem all that attractive. For one thing, since I'm a drummer, lugging my drums around to different gigs does not appeal. But I do love to play.
And, as it turns out, I love creating music.
My current excursion into music making began about a year and half ago when I bought a Mac (iBook) which came loaded with GarageBand. I was greatly intrigued but mixing and matching the canned loops wasn't all that fun for me. I wanted to create and record my own stuff. So I bought a keyboard, amp and other gear and went to work. I've since upgraded to Logic and I have a home-studio growing up in my basement.
This blog is about my efforts to make music and resulting experiences. It's been a blast and I've learned a lot. I'm still very much an amateur and I harbor no great ambition to become a professional. I'm also something of an amateur philosopher and my Zen/Taoist leanings influence my approach to creating music. This stuff will come out in the course of the blog as well as opinions about music, technical aspects of the craft, and whatever else.
Posting daily here is probably unrealistic but I do intend to post at least once a week. If there's anybody but crickets out in the audience, I hope you enjoy.
P.S. I'll be posting links to my music (and other folks' stuff too) at archive.org. If you're in hurry you can type "harmsichord" in the site's search field and see a list of songs I've posted.
And, as it turns out, I love creating music.
My current excursion into music making began about a year and half ago when I bought a Mac (iBook) which came loaded with GarageBand. I was greatly intrigued but mixing and matching the canned loops wasn't all that fun for me. I wanted to create and record my own stuff. So I bought a keyboard, amp and other gear and went to work. I've since upgraded to Logic and I have a home-studio growing up in my basement.
This blog is about my efforts to make music and resulting experiences. It's been a blast and I've learned a lot. I'm still very much an amateur and I harbor no great ambition to become a professional. I'm also something of an amateur philosopher and my Zen/Taoist leanings influence my approach to creating music. This stuff will come out in the course of the blog as well as opinions about music, technical aspects of the craft, and whatever else.
Posting daily here is probably unrealistic but I do intend to post at least once a week. If there's anybody but crickets out in the audience, I hope you enjoy.
P.S. I'll be posting links to my music (and other folks' stuff too) at archive.org. If you're in hurry you can type "harmsichord" in the site's search field and see a list of songs I've posted.
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