Cello, Rock, Future Sounds | The Music Of Cellist Songwriter Luke Janela

It’s hot in the studio today. By studio I mean shed, and by shed I mean it has a floor and carpet over the floor and frankly it’s perfect for me right no, cozy, but there is no insulation.

I’m not complaining… kind of keeps me on my toes and the sauna like atmosphere is maybe clearing out my pores? Besides, music is always made better under duress. Also, I’m not complaining for real… I love and am thankful that I am working on this album and fully appreciate that it is great to have that be the day’s priority.

And it’s hot in here.

I decided unfortunately that I hate all the lyrics I previously wrote/recorded for my current batch of songs. They’re just not… hmm, how do I say it? Sharp. Last night I watched this movie from 1950 “All About Eve”… if you haven’t seen it I highly recommend it, won’t get into details but the dialogue is so SNAPPY. You get whiplash from the cleverness and the intelligence. Songs used to be that way too. I’m not saying I haven’t contributed or at least bought into the modern use of lyrics as purely emotive, but man, a little subtlety goes a long way. So that’s something I’m trying to work into my lyrics.

Also I want to be certain that my lyrics are honest. It’s interesting, honesty is actually a difficult thing to pull off in lyrics, for me. I suppose if I had an alter-ego (do I? Maybe.) I could jive on all kinds of things with no consequence to whether it meant anything to me personally. That might arrive at certain truths more quickly, actually. By honest I just mean not false. As in, I could tell you that I feel hopeful about this thought, or nostalgic about this memory, or that these words in a string in melody actually mean something. And I would really want you to trust me that it’s true. Nothing new for my lyric writing conceptually, but always a challenge to pull off, as life and the world changes. etc.

Also, mean, it becomes tricky too in that I’m not a storyteller in the traditional sense. It’s not that I don’t want to write a great Dylan-esque story about a relationship like Tangled Up In Blue… it’s just that frankly it’s not my forte. Or I’ve convinced myself it’s not at least. I lament every single story-based song I’ve put out into the world, and that’s true. I prefer stories that kind of disintegrate the moment they are told, stories that are true for the listener with just a hint of the plot.

Anyways, hope that doesn’t sound pretentious. I’m pretty sure it does, but trust me I’m not trying to be over-intellectual. Just rambling out some thoughts as I take a break (can you say procrastinate?) from writing lyrics. Tying knots in ink and thoughts.

Bye!

(This is me in the studio. It is hot… did I mention that already?)

So I took down Summertime Nights from the site as you’ll see, it will be coming soon to an iTunes near you!

In other news I am off as of this evening to the Azore Islands, the middle of the Atlantic. I have family roots there and I really look forward to returning. The music especially intrigues me, along with the incredible beauty and wonderful people. I’ll be gone off the radar for a couple weeks. Upon my return I’ll have lots to share…

Hope your summer is treating you right. Enjoy!

Well it’s probably a few months late but last night I was thinking I ought to keep a little better track of the process of making my albums. The process is so important, and I feel like by writing about it here it will not only keep you up to date but help me keep track of what’s going on.

After REDWOOD SUMMER, I started writing new songs pretty much write away, but very casually. I like to have an audio recorder on me at all times (lately it’s my phone) and when an idea comes up I’ll record it for later purposing. The lyrics at this point are improvised but what I like to try and capture is the feel behind the idea. I’d say that since last summer I have between 10 and 20 sketches for songs that I revisit to see if they are album worthy.

Before REDWOOD SUMMER I had been performing a set of about 5 or 6 songs accompanied by my beats and effected cello. Those actually came about before I even started writing REDWOOD SUMMER but somehow I let it sit long enough that they ended up on the backburner.

So, to the present. Right now I’m working to not only bring those back to life, but also to add some fresh material to that set. The tone and sound of those songs is comparable to my album “Midnight Door”… but my personal challenge and caveat is to be able to perform those songs live, using the parts and pieces to be able to improvise around them in a live setting. It’s tricky when you do it solo, without a band, and with more than just your primary instrument involved, but I like that challenge and I like the end result. Also the marvels of modern technology allow me to give it a shot and so I’m doing that.

As a result of my stubborn insistence on performing these epically layered pieces live, I tend to lament the days of simply picking up the guitar or cello and just play, the way I would for a more simple live gig. The artists I admire the most can do this with so much talent and subtlety that a wall of sound is not necessary for them. So I’ve been working on pulling that out of my hat as well. Sitting down, playing and singing. Practicing it a bunch and then recording it pretty close to that pure sound of one person, one room.

And then, as I cannot seem to stick to one persona musically, I have developed a set I’ve been performing at art galleries and parties that is electronic music influenced, the cello, some beats, no vocals, lots of effects. This music works well for all kinds of settings and I enjoy the luxury of not needing to sing, and of going deeper with my cello playing. I’m working on recording these as well.

RIght now the electro-cello stuff is closest to being a hole album, mainly because I’ve had a full hour plus of music together already for performing live. The parts are in place and all that’s left is to lay down my lead cello parts.

I’m getting the arrangements together for that and my goal is really to create an album that is best suited for long drives, long walks, long sessions of work, that can be listened to over and over again. It’s tricky with electronic music to not get too repetitive or even too complex. My favorite electronic music gets folks dancing and sets the right tone, and it tends to sit in one music scale for a good long while, long enough for it to become hypnotic.

The acoustic album is in the works and I like where it’s going. I was real influenced by working with Chuck Ragan recently, he’s a great example of a guy and a guitar putting great songs out there with no frills and nothing lacking. Also, his vocal strength reminds me that sometimes to get the right feeling you’ve really got to belt it out. The only problem with making that album right now is that some of the songs end up being catchy enough that I want to add layers to them and some beats and move them over to my “Midnight Door” style album. So I constantly am producing, and diverting the songs into where they need to go.

Anyways. That’s where it’s at. Today I’m going to retouch the last three songs I recorded for the acoustic/solo musician album, and I’m going to get deeper with the electro-cello album.

This post is kind of a leadup to upcoming posts where I’ll be more specific about what I’m working on, and share some snippets of what I’m getting done each day, in true blog fashion.

Thanks for checking in, can’t wait to share the music with ya… Take Care!

Luke.

A couple of props to give out, I’m moving forward with new recordings and new shows (news soon), but in the meantime:

My bro and his photography. He’s based in the bay area and does incredible work with people and places. He also has a vast, extensive background with bands and music photography in general (can’t wait til he publishes a book from his deep archives).

Frank Zio. He made sure to find me immediately after my set opening for AFI in Santa Cruz and gave me this poster. It’s now framed on my wall. Super nice work, super nice of him to do that.

MiseryXChord: Check out photos from the AFI show (and lots of other rad shots) here. Thanks for posting them, they are amazing

*warning = this is a loooong rant.

Photo: Pete Geniella

Last Thursday, January 28th, I got to open for AFI, one of my favorite bands. We played The Catalyst in Santa Cruz, and all the pieces fell into place for a great great show.

The show had been big in my mind for too long, I knew it was on, but the band I had recorded REDWOOD SUMMER with wasn’t to be available. I thought, ok, we’ll just make it happen for a good long while, and yet the band wasn’t nailed down, even just a couple weeks before the show.

My own fault, because the obvious choice for the best drummer was right in front of my face; I finally realized that I needed to call one of my best friends and bandmate of many many years Mr. Keith Feigin. He was with me for my first show ever, he recorded Blue Star, he recorded The Key, he is an amazing drummer. However, he hadn’t played drums, literally, for 5 years. Nonetheless, he was open to the idea. We’d jam on the songs, and if it worked, great. If not… welllllll….

My brothers pointed me in the direction of a guitar player they knew also in Ukiah (Keith lives there now), my hometown. A really talented guy who knows the business, touring all the time with his band, Luke Slinkert. Fortunately for me, Luke is also a huge AFI fan, which meant that the expenses and time spent practicing and traveling, especially when compared to the nominal guarantee we were getting to play (standard for opening bands) were worth it.

So I headed up to Northern California with less than a week to prepare for the show. A new band, I didn’t know Luke S. that well, and I didn’t know if Keith was going to be comfortable playing drums at all. I didn’t know how well my cello would play live, if my amp would even do the trick, if this was really realistic at all, or if it would all sadly implode.

I was optimistic, however!

Got into Ukiah, really really excited and anxious for our first practice that day, stopped by a friend’s apartment, bent down to pet the cute gigantic growling pit bull and promptly got bit in the face by said dog. Everything was suddenly chaotic, the dog got pulled off, I looked down at my hand and blood was dripping everywhere. Asked where the bathroom was, went in, and saw my lips looking pitifully mangled, kind of hanging there, as if confused, in all kinds of directions.

We rushed to the hospital, Keith was there, my brother Nate was there, my Mom showed up soon. I was sitting in the emergency room and I was on the verge of tears not because of the pain, which was pretty intense, so much as the idea that we would not be able to play this show. I wanted, I needed to play this show. It mattered to me.

The doctor stitched things up and took his time. He was great because he seemed to care and methodically put 28 stitches in my lips and face. He did a nice job. I went home, high on morphine and still wondering about the show.

The next morning things were good enough in my face to go ahead and schedule a practice, albeit without vocals from me. We’d play through the songs and kind of evaluate if it was even conceivable to go up on a stage in front of 1,000 people in less than three days. Things went well. I don’t know how, but Keith could really really bust it out still. Luke S. had memorized all the songs quickly and instantly was laying them down. The first time through the set was a little scary. The second time, the songs already sounded great.

So we had two more rehearsals to go. And they went really really well. Our set was only 6 songs and went like this:

True North
Strobe Light
The Unattended Ball
Time Is Near
Closure
Fever Saved Me

It clocked in at about 25 minutes, and we played it over and over again, just one song leading into the next. The last rehearsal we played through the set 5 times straight. That’s all we could do.

And it sounded good. I can honestly say that I wish I could re-record a version of REDWOOD SUMMER with the songs recorded in this raucous, garage/punk style that we had formed together in few days. Cello, Acoustic Guitar, Drums, Vocals. Simple, sweet, short.

There’s a kind of crummy sounding/looking recording of it available for the curious here:
http://www.ustream.tv/recorded/4262515

We drove down to Santa Cruz the day of the show. I went to college in Santa Cruz and knew it oh so well. I learned to really play cello there. I played the clubs and coffee shops (mostly coffee shops when I was there) often, it was my town. It was epic to return to the big venue in town and be loading my stuff in.

AFI’s bus and equipment truck were there, and the equipment had been unloaded. To me, it was an impressive setup, boxes and boxes of gear and stage equipment. The stage was already setup, with AFI’s huge banner tied like a curtain behind the drums. Davey Havok was walking around talking to all the folks at the Catalyst (he is a verifiably super-nice person by the way), Adam, their drummer was there. I love Adam, I don’t think I know very many people, musicians or otherwise, who are as cool, kind and humble as he is. Smith was running the show, Fritch was selling the merch. Much of the AFI crew was intact from the last time I had seen them play, only since then they had gone on to sell millions of records and land a #1 billboard debut. And yet they are still real, down to earth, nice people. No BS. And they are GOOD if not AMAZING as a band these days. I watched their sound check and they now have this amazingly fluid sense of their own sound, super super tight and just, in their element. I suppose the countless weeks of touring will do that for you.

My nerves were crazy. I was still on antibiotics for my wounds and couldn’t really eat well so I had been on a liquid diet for the whole week. It was an enormous and woozy feeling. All my favorite people in the world, my family and my girlfriend to name a few, old college friends, showed up pre-show.

At one point me and Keith walked around the block to go grab a protein shake for me and a bite to eat for him, and the line to get in the club was already around block. That recognizable AFI crowd, dressed in black, non-conformist, devoted. Then we were scared… would they boo us off the stage? Also, up on the marquis, my name alongside AFI and Ceremony. Really cool for me, a good image, unexpected, and great.

Then we just tried to be not nervous. And soon enough it was time to get on stage. And we’d have to not blow it, of course.

And we got up there and just tore through the songs. The crowd was amazing. They were kind and into it. There were a lot of people in there too, 500-1000, I can’t really say a good estimate, but a lot. And the sound ruled, and my bandmates NAILED IT. And it was fun. This was it, a good show, good music, that euphoric state that musicians live for. It really was… yeah. It was great.

I had a lot of people to talk to when it was over, and thus I missed Ceremony. AFI put on an incredible performance, as they always do. Those guys play their hearts out EVERY TIME they go on stage, and that is often. They give everything to their fans, which is how it should be, in my opinion. The songs were so tight and so good, they played a couple really old ones, and a couple new ones off of Crash Love, and a few from in between. I was kind of in heaven, I had a great view, and I love seeing AFI play.

My brother took some amazing pictures of AFI that night, check them out here.

So the night settled down, nothing to crazy that evening, as my stitches were still healing and that was a good excuse to kind of get to ruminate on the whole thing. I couldn’t have asked for a better show, with better people around me. I’ve already directly said my thanks to all mentioned, but to my family, my girlfriend, my friends, to that crowd, and to AFI, I have a lot of gratitude.

Now it is on to the next big show. I’m eager to get it all going. I’ll let you know as it unfolds… Thanks so much for stopping by…

First off, I’m thrilled to let you know that I’m opening for AFI on January 28th in Santa Cruz… why thrilled you asked? as opposed to excited? Well, I’ve passed through the excited threshold and into the realm of thrilled because AFI is a band I’ve admired for a long long time, and who, in their music and their unrelenting devotion to creating their own sound, their own way, have become one of my favorite bands ever. So basically I’m opening for some musical idols. Pretty cool.

Next off, life has been changing in big and little ways, mostly big… I now live in Los Angeles… still settling in but indeed, it is done. We’re perched on a little hill and I’m really excited to see how the music fares down here.

Last off, for now, I have a lot to say for and about Nevada City. Though I feel very happy to move forward etc., I feel I owe a great debt to all the amazing musicians and friends I made there, and have a good long rant to write about all that. Will miss the good things there… very much!

Onward!

Yesterday REDWOOD SUMMER finally made its way onto iTunes which signified a kind of final touch to the release of an album. (JUNEAUREVOIR is still on its way there)…

So how does an album come about from start to finish? I’ll tell you the story of REDWOOD SUMMER…

Basically a year ago I decided I was going to record a new album… the steam had stopped whistling for MIDNIGHT DOOR and it was time to explore new songs again. Only I became distracted when making MIDNIGHT DOOR… I was frustrated that I had recorded all these songs off that album without having a real live setup for performing them. The songs were written on the road and out in the world, not the usual where you try out songs live generally before they make it on the album. I was stripping the songs on MIDNIGHT DOOR down to the drum and bass tracks and pressing play on my ipod and performing along. Which, I have come to accept, is totally legit, especially of course if it is YOUR music you are playing along to, your beats, your sounds. I used to think it was not so legit, until I saw a few performances that incorporated the same technique, and it didn’t feel or seem weird to me at all. One caveat of this is that I really think if you play along to beats it HAS to be electronic… it’s true to me that playing along to ‘real’ sounding drums from a machine is kind of cheesy looking/sounding (in my opinion). Plus, then you are truly playing with the whole organic meets electronic thing, which does yield some interesting results and feels very much a part of our times. I think I like Thom Yorke’s solo stuff so much because he is able to work with (besides the brilliantly abstracted beats and great compositions) his raw voice, very plainly effected, wafting over the top of what feels like a Bladerunner landscape.

Holy tangent.

Anywaaaaays, the point is is that I got distracted by working on beats and effects that I could perform live, without accompaniment, and most importantly, which left lots of room for improvisation if necessary. My thing with electronic music and all music really is that if there is no room for improvisation at all, if it is super super polished and things are always done “perfectly” and the same, it is not really music. It’s theater. Which is fine. But I feel like at the core of music is the subconscious and its yearning to budge in and elbow things around here and there. I feel like it’s about the emotions of a room becoming one with the music. Et cetera.

So I worked on that and played a few different art party type things, improvising cello over beats around set songs and making the beats go this way and that and using lots of effects.

How did that lead to REDWOOD SUMMER which is very organic and non-electronic? Well, I just kind of missed making bedroom acoustic guitar anthems. I got so far away from home with that stuff that I really felt sentimental about sitting down and writing poetic lyrics by a fire with an acoustic guitar. Which is EXACTLY what happened with the writing of REDWOOD SUMMER… we had the opportunity to house sit a really beautiful house in Nevada County, with vistas of the foothills and gorgeous star filled skies, and there was a woodstove and no tv and no internet and the evenings were cozy and quiet. And I just started writing songs like crazy.

Most songs you hear on REDWOOD SUMMER were written in a three week period in January (more irony). Usually the process was to just grab ideas quickly, really as quickly as possible, meaning not interrupting the flow of musical idea by writing it down… this time I just used a handheld recorder, played through a new “song”, whether it was finished or not, and then started another. If it was any good, I kept it and worked on it. I’m not sure what my lyrics sound like to you, but you might be surprised to know there was a pretty good amount of polish on them. Obviously I’m not a real storytelling songwriter, but I do like to make the words work their own story and set their own stage. I spent a lot of time on various pretentious preconditions that I won’t bore you with.

I really wanted to record these songs to album as quickly as I was writing them, but you know, life gets in the way. We had to leave that housesitting gig but actually ended up returning in April I believe it was. By this time I was anxious to get this REDWOOD SUMMER thing on tape, I had a good sense of what I was doing and what I wanted, and I didn’t want it to slip by… so I set up my recording equipment in the upstairs bathroom of this great house, which had a really big all tile shower. I fit all my mics in that shower. I liked the closeness of the sound that the mics picked up in there. I tried just doing things simply, getting good guitar takes first and foremost. A huge part of REDWOOD SUMMER was playing guitar a lot again, so it was important to lay that down. Another part of the album though was actually, really, fully incorporating the cello into the main thrust of the song, making the cello NOT a supporting instrument but the center of the sound.

So what I wanted, by the way, was a country album. Well, not a country album in the traditional sense, but an album that felt like the places I’d grown up, the woods. I’m not sure that that makes sense or that it translates at all, but that’s why you have side A with its sparkly, sunny, swaying rhythms, and side B with its darker undertones. It feels like meadows and forest to me, it feels like Northern California to me. And of course, I wanted the process to be more “like it used to be” when I wrote songs: the edge of a bed in a lonely room to sit on, a quiet spot on earth, and no “coolness” filtration, no “authenticity” filtration, no input whatsoever from the “tastemakers“.

So I got most of the basic tracks down. I recorded cello and guitar, and I sang most lead vocals.

By that time it was May and soooooo much more time had gone by than I wanted.

The last four months of album making are probably the strangest for an independent musician. You gotta understand, when you are working full time and being a musician in your other time, there is no label pressure for a drop date, there is no pressure whatever, and so it is very very easy to let albums slide along and before you know it it takes 5+ years to finish an album. I have seen this happen many times, and I just really wouldn’t like the feeling. For one, or perhaps the main thing is that I try and capture a specific window of time/my life/my thoughts/the world in my albums, and if it takes more than a year it just seems like too much input on that front, too many influences. I mean, I had already been completely influenced by the Nevada City music scene subconsciously… I really thought that the mountain melodies and rocky yuba campfire cabin ghost song vibe wouldn’t get to me through Mariee Sioux, Alela Diane, Casual Fog, Them Hills and others, but they did, dammit I admit it, they did influence me. They inspired me to return to my personal truth being the core of the music. Purity of vision, untampered. It was really playing with Aaron Ross that had this affect on me the most. I have never heard let alone met a songwriter so talented and so potent with their own truth in music. And I was hanging out with him all the time, recording albums, playing shows!

The last four months were just a matter of gathering people in one place. It seems easy but for some reason it can be maddening. I wanted a real ‘community’ vibe on a lot of the songs, and getting Aaron Ross and Cody Feiler to sing on a lot was essential. Molly Allis banged out the drums in one day (one one take mostly! she is amazing), and of course Chuck Ragan and I met up for an afternoon to trade music. There were still lots of little things missing, the cello solo in the middle of ‘True North’, a piano for ‘The First Step’… these things really just kind of slowly slowly fell in line. But the finishing magical touch was realizing that my beautiful and way too modest girlfriend has a beautiful voice. We started by recording her voice on ‘Soundless’ and I realized I needed that voice on a lot more of the album. What was good about that was that it was pretty easy to get her in the same room with me! The “choir” you hear in ‘Strobe Light’ was recorded the day before I finished off the album, layering loads of her lovely voice until a big enough sound was achieved.

So, yes, this is an epically rambling post and I congratulate you for reading this far…

So you’ve got the thought of the album, you’ve got the writing of it, you’ve got the preliminary recording, and then the tricky follow up recording. Now you’ve got to do something with it.

As an independent musician (without a lot of money) you end up doing your own mixes, and therefore listening to the songs over and over and over and over and over again. I’m not very good at mixing, I always want all elements to be louder, and have a hard time with nuance in sound, but I learned a lot with this album. In the end though I’m not sure if I would have ever landed on what I wanted, it changed too much. It would be ideal to hand off songs to an external ear that you trusted and then say “have at it!” but it’s just not possible for me. I’m a control freak about my music, and plus, I felt my tracks were a mess and wouldn’t want to do that to someone!

Basically what happens is you spend four hours straight looping the chorus of one song trying to decide if the cymbal is too midrangy and whether the cello should have a touch more reverb. It’s kind of awful and time consuming but somehow rewarding.

Lastly you just set a date to send it off to be mastered and you stick to it. Because the mixing could literally go on for-ev-er. Thankfully Grass Valley is blessed with the best engineer with the coolest studio and greatest gear and mostly an incredible ear in Dana Gumbiner of Station To Station Recording… The luxury of calling him up is not something I took for granted.

He took my final mixes and really really filled them out. He made the sound of the cello big, and the sound of the backup vocals full. He kind of technicolored the album, in short.

So, and really, this is the part I want to get to… so you are done. You have the final mix, all mastered, and in your hands.

You may have noticed that there is not a lot of time to think about promotion, with everything else going on, let alone booking shows. But that, my friend, is what you must go and do.

I make my CDs through a ridiculously great and anonymous company that cranks them out quickly for me, and most importantly, for my meager budget, does not require that I buy 1000 at a time. At that point I send them to CDBaby, which gets them for sale, and also sends the digital files off to iTunes and Amazon and a number of other digital retailers. CDBaby truly is necessary for the independent musician, especially moving forward into the digital age.

And also, because if you’re reading this deep into the post you must be somewhat interested, also you wait. You put the CD out and you wait. You wait mostly to hear the pebble reach the bottom of the well. A few friends and family casually tell you that they like the album and it makes you glow for days. You check your email and website statistics incessantly to see if it is spreading on its own. You spend a lot of time doing that, it’s true, and I bet it’s true for most artists so I’m not afraid to admit that I’m in the phase where you are rather keen on listening for whispers of feedback.

The next and perhaps last step of an album though, and don’t you forget it, is to go out and play shows. You can’t can’t can’t sit around waiting for feedback. You have to go and bring the music to people directly.

And so the life of an album evolves. I still really really want to put out a vinyl version of REDWOOD SUMMER and JUNEAUREVOIR. I think it would sound great on vinyl. I’m working on a big move, and I really would like these albums to get wider distribution. It would be great, of course, if a label with reach picked either of them up. Playing more shows will be great. Getting JUNEAUREVOIR and its cello epicness into film would be my dream with that.

But mostly you, sitting somewhere, maybe standing, maybe headphones, maybe not, maybe at home, maybe in your car, maybe with yourself or with friends, mostly you hear it. Mostly for maybe only 1 minute, it makes a dent on your day and makes your day more important and beautiful the way that music can do that. Maybe it becomes a companion for a few months because it speaks to where you are at in your life. Maybe you know someone who it seems like would love it. That’s the final, and most important step. It could be now or 20 years from now. That’s one thing I love about making things. You never know…

Wow thanks for going with me down those million tangents. In short, REDWOOD SUMMER is done but not done. Hope this inspires you to bring things to completion (but not completion)… if anything, it might be oddly inspiring that 10 songs could take over a year to get out to the world… and yes, the year is worth the effort.

Be well, enjoy October,

Luke.

So this thing happens when I finish an album, it’s kind of weird. My excitement turns to a vague fear.

I mean, not like, deep-seeded fear or rational fear, just a general fear. I think it comes from: bracing for reaction (critics, friends, family, etc., will they love it? hate it?), letting go something that was yours, and what next?

Some musicians have the what’s next generally worked out, I don’t, yet. You promote, you tour. OK, got that.

Letting go something that was yours… that’s different, and I think is really at the heart of this vague fear. I was talking with my girlfriend last night who is a painter and has better words for these things, and she said that she experiences the same thing, and that what it is is that she really enjoys the process. Making the art is not really about the finished product, it’s about the process, and I always, always, always forget that.

And then, yeah, the basic fear of rejection. Of course I have that. I’m certain all musicians have that. But, I think you maybe develop a “confidence” like Kanye West because it doesn’t really matter whether people like it or not and besides, they will! Also, that confidence definitely makes people more intrigued to hear it. Plus, in my case, I am waaaayyy beyond the question of “would I make music if people didn’t like it?”…

Of course I will. I will always make music, I love the process.

The first best thought when finishing an album (or two) is that revelation that a big project was indeed taken on and finished.

It takes a while. A lot of hours. I mean, you can do an album project in 2 weeks or 2 years. It could be the same music. It could be the same end product more or less. There is no end to the tinkering that can be done. The layering, the “perfecting”.

It’s like any big project. Starts as an idea, takes its mutations, many different hangups, lots of different things to learn, and then, finally, after that final push it becomes a reality. It’s important to remember the process.

When you record and mix your own stuff, it’s a bit different than handing it over to an engineer to finish off.

That’s where a good amount of critical feedback is good, from yourself mainly. I am stubborn, but that’s not why I don’t like to hear about the flaws until after I’m done. I do get feedback though, and lots of good ideas from friends. But as far as the “artistic” influence, I try to stay true to my instincts. On the other hand, sometimes your ears can’t hear it anymore. I’ve had a huge amount of feedback from my girlfriend and good friends and family on these albums. Volumes too loud or not loud enough, ideas on how to introduce a new part of the song, inspiration for the concept… sometimes I just needed someone to listen to it so I could watch their face during certain parts of songs.

Redwood Summer and Juneaurevoir came about as a concept. They both were about getting down to my more straight forward roots musically. Do what comes naturally, don’t over think it. Why haven’t I recorded an all cello instrumental album yet? I mean, it’s fun, it’s rewarding, and it can be enjoyed by a huge spectrum of people. And with the rootsy sound of Redwood Summer, it harkens back to my earliest albums: no self-censorship, no attempts at adhering to a certain sound per se, just songs straight up.

In retrospect Redwood Summer is very pop oriented, in the sense that most of the songs have a traditional verse chorus verse chorus bridge chorus format. I always thought that would sound formulaic, and it is formulaic, but you can’t tell, that’s not what I listen for anyways. All my favorite popular music has that going on, and, yes, it’s trite, it’s been done before, but it sounds good.

In retrospect Juneaurevoir could be more ‘perfect’. I have been nice and open to the different tones and sounds. I didn’t use much in terms of effects, but I had thought I would use no effects whatsoever, like a recording of chamber music. I don’t have written versions of the songs even. Someday I’ll do that. This is the first in what I hope is a long string of cello albums.

Anyways, after mixing for 80+ hours the past couple weeks after work, I am struck by how big every ‘little’ project is.

But getting it done feels amazing. It makes it all worth it. I’m just waiting for a call and then they get mastered, and then I don’t get (have) to work on them any more…!

You can pre-order them now. They’ll be at itunes in September, and CDs will be available 9/9/9.

Thanks for stopping by!

Spent the weekend sorting out dramas in my world and also putting the final touches on the new Cello album JUNEAUREVOIR.

Mixing cello can be pretty rough. It’s so full of bass, obviously, but the more you pull back on that bass, the more tinny the high ends seem.

Also, it’s one of those instruments you just want to cover with the frosting of reverb. But I’ve found that it is very very easy to go overboard on cello reverb. It has its own resonance which gets lost the more stacks of reverb you throw down.

As far as dramas of my life go? Well, let’s just say that plans, even when huge and pivotal, the big boulders of plans, can slip out of place and wreak havoc. More to come on that later.

If your are interested in how I record the cello (ie you are a recording nerd like me), read on!

I’m sure some people have figured this out, and that nicer microphones can make it sound great. I have figured my own “method” out on this last album. It is simple, not profound, and is as follows:

I take my nicer mic, an Audio Technica that is powered, a fairly small condenser mic, it looks sort of like this. It’s not that one. Anyways, it has a full bodied sound and also picks up the “icy” part of the cello, those highs where the bow moves across the string. I put that in front, facing the bridge, about six inches from it, straight on, or as much as possible.

I don’t believe in mic’ing the f-hole. Too many fluctuations in tone and none of that bow sound action. I happen to like the bow sounds, even on “perfect” classical recordings. Or, I should say, especially on “perfect” classical recordings. My favorite recording of the Bach Suites is Pablo Casals’ very early recordings of them. One take, wax cylinder, lots of imperfections, no retakes, lots of real natural beauty. Perfect and authentic sounding to me. You can really hear the bow moving across the string. I like it.

And then, and this is odd, but it works, I decided that it is ok to record with a pickup if the pickup picks up some tones that a mic just can’t. So I used my Shadow Nanoflex Cello Pickup and recorded the two, mic and pickup, together. The blend of the tones allows for a more full tone. I tend to roll off the low end on the Audio Technica, and also to roll off the high end of the pickup. Low end of the mic is full of hum, high end of the pickup is full of hiss. But they compliment each other nicely.

So what you end up with is like, if you had your ear right up against the cello PLUS you have a prime spot seated in front of the cello. I like the blend of the two.