Surfing & Civilization

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.

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.