How do you decide the things you will define yourself by in life? The copious shit you own, line your walls with, wear to the gym/grocery store/casual friday etc. The one I've been contemplating is what music counts as within my potential repertoire and which will always elude me or be forever unknown.
At first I adopted the notion that since I can wear a ratty tee shirt to the gym (or to pick up dinner) and have worn more dressy clothes to fridays than on mondays, the same should stand for music. Give me a rocking out 80's hair metal piece and I will adapt it to me. Give me Rhianna and I will do the same. Being the hippie that I inevitably am, and not being one to hear 'you can't' without a valid reason, I am drawn to this notion of anything goes. Its abut conquering again. Going to a foreign land and taking it on as your own in order to have it be part of you instead of you, part of it. So with this in mind I've been hearing every song out there with new ears. I've been trying to determine if I have a line that I won't be able to cross. Funny thing happened.
I realized there might be something noble, maybe pure, maybe vital, in the preservation of certain songs as there are and have been to me. By this I mean, there might be a few tunes that fall into a category where my passion for my craft and my less than ripe status as a musician means I don't yet (or ever) deserve to wander their path. It might be about keeping those meanings and tracks in my memory as untarnished by me, untouched and virgin, but it might also be my fantastic contradiction about musical philosophy.
I want to be able to conquer all, but I also feel it a necessary evil to maintain some mortal status in not allowing myself all the knowledge I might want. The only thing worse than growing up to find you know nothing in growing into a space where you feel there is nothing left to know.
Wednesday 28 March 2012
Wednesday 21 March 2012
Tools
Looking down into the cribs and settling you eyes on your very own babies is one of the most rewarding, unsettling and indescribable feelings in the world. The day you get to swaddle them and take them home is a day forever ensconced in memories as the day your life really changes.
My babies of course of my MX12 400 watt mixer/amp, 2 12-inch passive sub-woofers, and 2 Seinheiser mics (with stands and cords!).
There is little feeling greater than when all of the fantastic things you love in life are surrounding you at once. Driving through the city I love, with the man I love next to me, the sunshine in my face and the meter creeping up on the cab back from Long and McQuade with my NEW AWESOME EQUIPMENT IN THE TRUNK!!!!
So a big deal was made about this stuff. It's just stuff. But once I got it home and really saw what it was, it became more than a few chunks of fabric and metal and dials and cords. It felt like potential. SHIT GOT REAL as we say in the hood.
After a fantastic evening of more detail planning and still yet no real feelings of terror (I'm saving it all for the first night), I played around with some tunes and got to know my newest arrivals.
They sound delicious.
So I went out to another open mic night which I love, at the Old Nick, and saw everything very differently. Their host is fantastically fluid, organized and impossibly cool. She knows everybody, and every kind of musician stereotype was there, though they all seemed so genuine and sincere in their craft. I even had a brush of celebrity, meeting the frontman behind a fantastic jazz funk band I saw in a jazz fest this past summer. Apparently all the good musicians live on the Danforth :) hint hint.
My time there watching the dynamics of an open stage further confirmed my belief in this concept and in my innate ability to do this. I try to avoid it but- like many artists and entertainment folks- it also has a lot to do with me not being able to do anything else.
My babies of course of my MX12 400 watt mixer/amp, 2 12-inch passive sub-woofers, and 2 Seinheiser mics (with stands and cords!).
There is little feeling greater than when all of the fantastic things you love in life are surrounding you at once. Driving through the city I love, with the man I love next to me, the sunshine in my face and the meter creeping up on the cab back from Long and McQuade with my NEW AWESOME EQUIPMENT IN THE TRUNK!!!!
So a big deal was made about this stuff. It's just stuff. But once I got it home and really saw what it was, it became more than a few chunks of fabric and metal and dials and cords. It felt like potential. SHIT GOT REAL as we say in the hood.
After a fantastic evening of more detail planning and still yet no real feelings of terror (I'm saving it all for the first night), I played around with some tunes and got to know my newest arrivals.
They sound delicious.
So I went out to another open mic night which I love, at the Old Nick, and saw everything very differently. Their host is fantastically fluid, organized and impossibly cool. She knows everybody, and every kind of musician stereotype was there, though they all seemed so genuine and sincere in their craft. I even had a brush of celebrity, meeting the frontman behind a fantastic jazz funk band I saw in a jazz fest this past summer. Apparently all the good musicians live on the Danforth :) hint hint.
My time there watching the dynamics of an open stage further confirmed my belief in this concept and in my innate ability to do this. I try to avoid it but- like many artists and entertainment folks- it also has a lot to do with me not being able to do anything else.
Sunday 11 March 2012
An April Fool's to Remember SLASH the BIIIIGGGG step
Finally, after less than 2 months of blogging, and almost no effort, I've made it!
How disgusting would that be if it were true? It's more like this: after 2 months of obsessive posting, reflecting, pushing myself, bragging, uploading music, conquering fears and crying about whether I'm even doing it right, somebody said yes.
Somebody is going to pay me to provide them with music. Some of it by others, some of it by me. What the hell?
Starting in April. So I still have some time to be a vagabond.
I twisted and arm, pined over the details, wrote a proposal, kept showing up to convince him, and he left a big job in my as-yet-to-be-determined-capable hands. I spent two weeks looking up anything on how to host an open mic night and then the chords to every song I can imagine hearing played on a guitar (and then about a million that NOBODY can imagine on a guitar, just for good measure.) I read up on the rules and etiquette of an open mic. My friends and family gave me advice on what to say (ok folks, tonight is so and so's birthday, lets make her feel welcome) and what not to (ok folks, nobody has heard this asshole play before, its his first time! lets hope he's not terrible. give' er!). Then I added up everything I know about music (actually quiet a bit) and hosting a crowd (enough to not pop the mic or insult anyone who doesn't deserve it) and then, finally, about being a musician who has to organize other musicians. Its not a bud summation.
This is the part that I am most excite-terrified about. Mostly because musicians are a temperamental, broody, and unpredictable breed. Factor in that these are amateurs trying out their stuff. So in both ways I can relate, which gives me a slight advantage. They cast Zach Braff as the lead in Scrubs at tender 22, and his newbie-ness was a direct informant to his very real character and the feeling of terror and nervousness that comes with being thrown into the role of leader.
Here's hoping I don't lead anybody down a dark alley or into an unfair fight. A guitar is not a sturdy fighting implement. But at least it sounds pretty.
How disgusting would that be if it were true? It's more like this: after 2 months of obsessive posting, reflecting, pushing myself, bragging, uploading music, conquering fears and crying about whether I'm even doing it right, somebody said yes.
Somebody is going to pay me to provide them with music. Some of it by others, some of it by me. What the hell?
Starting in April. So I still have some time to be a vagabond.
I twisted and arm, pined over the details, wrote a proposal, kept showing up to convince him, and he left a big job in my as-yet-to-be-determined-capable hands. I spent two weeks looking up anything on how to host an open mic night and then the chords to every song I can imagine hearing played on a guitar (and then about a million that NOBODY can imagine on a guitar, just for good measure.) I read up on the rules and etiquette of an open mic. My friends and family gave me advice on what to say (ok folks, tonight is so and so's birthday, lets make her feel welcome) and what not to (ok folks, nobody has heard this asshole play before, its his first time! lets hope he's not terrible. give' er!). Then I added up everything I know about music (actually quiet a bit) and hosting a crowd (enough to not pop the mic or insult anyone who doesn't deserve it) and then, finally, about being a musician who has to organize other musicians. Its not a bud summation.
This is the part that I am most excite-terrified about. Mostly because musicians are a temperamental, broody, and unpredictable breed. Factor in that these are amateurs trying out their stuff. So in both ways I can relate, which gives me a slight advantage. They cast Zach Braff as the lead in Scrubs at tender 22, and his newbie-ness was a direct informant to his very real character and the feeling of terror and nervousness that comes with being thrown into the role of leader.
Here's hoping I don't lead anybody down a dark alley or into an unfair fight. A guitar is not a sturdy fighting implement. But at least it sounds pretty.
Friday 2 March 2012
Identity Crisis
So since this takeover, there's been some question among friends and foes about the name change. About the concept itself, about what it means, about why Jesse doesn't write this and Jane Lady does.
The concept:
I'm about to repeat myself. I don't often do, but in this case my high school english teacher's words ring true that if somebody says it once, its intentional, but if they say it twice, its important. So here it is. The concept has to do with saving myself form myself. To hide behind an alias gives one the freedom to create what they will of a character, and use them to highlight the best parts of that personae, and maybe get a chance to bring in some much needed, lacking attributes. For instance, the fear is something Jane Lady doesn't take to. There is also a strong point to be made in naming a band after something inspiring and something that creates some branding.
What it means:
The notion of being plain, of being Jane, is something I love. It's liberating to feel normal, to be basic, simple and unrefined. It lets me have all the flaws and fears I (we) struggle to get a handle on. Now here comes to poetry. To be the Lady of any place is to rule it, to be the upholder of all feminine ideals and manners, to act with only the kind of elegance and grace that one expects from royalty. In the ultimate music story ever told, the woman behind the man who inspires the music and the madness, and whose youth informs and designs the arch of every other characters' progress? Her name is Penny Lane, and she's perfectly executed by Kate Hudson in Almost Famous. Over the film it's questioned what her real name is. She reveals that her mother always advised her to 'marry up, and marry someone grand. and that's why she named me Lady.' There are also a few varying ways these names are anagrams. And I love nerding out with worgasms as much as I love to sing.
So there you go. That's the what and why. Now here is the revelation for today.
A concept that has been only literal to me now has recently become very metaphorical. Jesse Daly and Jane Lady are one in the same. My words are hers are ours. We are one. I don't have to hide. I don't have to fear. It's time I start owning up to what's what and who I am.
That said, a stage name is always a good business and marketing strategy, and, face facts, its fun.
From here on out, I'm Jesse Daly. AND Jane Lady. Any combination of these ideas is possible at any given moment. But for the purposes of some very big news that is potentially about to befall me, I have to choose one definitive identity. As me, as musician.
I have the opportunity to host an open mic night.
There are of course a million and one other more pressing questions which I am working on answering for myself about how this ridiculous notion has come into my life. But the first and foremost right now for me, what in high heaven do I call myself when I get up there for the first time?
I like J. Lady J.
Let's see if anybody else likes her.
Likes me.
The concept:
I'm about to repeat myself. I don't often do, but in this case my high school english teacher's words ring true that if somebody says it once, its intentional, but if they say it twice, its important. So here it is. The concept has to do with saving myself form myself. To hide behind an alias gives one the freedom to create what they will of a character, and use them to highlight the best parts of that personae, and maybe get a chance to bring in some much needed, lacking attributes. For instance, the fear is something Jane Lady doesn't take to. There is also a strong point to be made in naming a band after something inspiring and something that creates some branding.
What it means:
The notion of being plain, of being Jane, is something I love. It's liberating to feel normal, to be basic, simple and unrefined. It lets me have all the flaws and fears I (we) struggle to get a handle on. Now here comes to poetry. To be the Lady of any place is to rule it, to be the upholder of all feminine ideals and manners, to act with only the kind of elegance and grace that one expects from royalty. In the ultimate music story ever told, the woman behind the man who inspires the music and the madness, and whose youth informs and designs the arch of every other characters' progress? Her name is Penny Lane, and she's perfectly executed by Kate Hudson in Almost Famous. Over the film it's questioned what her real name is. She reveals that her mother always advised her to 'marry up, and marry someone grand. and that's why she named me Lady.' There are also a few varying ways these names are anagrams. And I love nerding out with worgasms as much as I love to sing.
So there you go. That's the what and why. Now here is the revelation for today.
A concept that has been only literal to me now has recently become very metaphorical. Jesse Daly and Jane Lady are one in the same. My words are hers are ours. We are one. I don't have to hide. I don't have to fear. It's time I start owning up to what's what and who I am.
That said, a stage name is always a good business and marketing strategy, and, face facts, its fun.
From here on out, I'm Jesse Daly. AND Jane Lady. Any combination of these ideas is possible at any given moment. But for the purposes of some very big news that is potentially about to befall me, I have to choose one definitive identity. As me, as musician.
I have the opportunity to host an open mic night.
There are of course a million and one other more pressing questions which I am working on answering for myself about how this ridiculous notion has come into my life. But the first and foremost right now for me, what in high heaven do I call myself when I get up there for the first time?
I like J. Lady J.
Let's see if anybody else likes her.
Likes me.
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