What a Year it Hasn't Been

Has it really, really been a full year since I last posted?

Why yes, it has. My, how time crawls.

It’s been a low-key year, a museless time. More real-life things had to take a front seat for a while and my urge to write went into hiding. I hit sort of a wall with why it is I wanted to write, or what I wanted to write about, let alone who.

But I think it’s time to start pulling out notebooks again, listening to new music, working with partners and generally getting into mischief.

I’m still working on the songs with Michael Ronstadt and we’ve recorded some demos which still need to be mixed. I’m hoping to work with a guitar player so I can hit some open mics.

And so it goes. I will try to report back from the Maia Sharp gig on Wednesday night.

Welcome back. To me.

The Microphone Awaits

Well, here we go. Saturday night, I’ll be premiering two new songs at Thrive Station’s home concert series. This week Michael Ronstadt will be showcased, presenting his solo work and some collaborations. We’ll be singing (for the first time in public) “Little Jack Horner” and “Falling Angels.” (Both lyrics have been tweaked a bit since they were posted here, I’ll have to put the final versions up soon).

I remember getting on a stage when I was around 10 years old, so that’s when I think I started acting. So I’ve been a performer for a long time, but always in a theatrical context. I have sung in Summer Stock (one year in my youth I played Jesus in GODSPELL and Littlechap in STOP THE WORLD I WANT TO GET OFF), and done cabarets, but it’s always been about the story and the performance and the energy and the narrative, and I’ve gotten by with hitting most of the notes.

This is the first time I’ll be getting up in a venue as a songwriter and musician and singer, with the performance experience playing the supporting role. As Michael and I have been developing our song project, I’ve wound up as lead vox.

The concert series is held at the home and studio of Rick Denzien and Debra Lee, with whom I’ve written a few songs. I met Michael at another concert, watching him improvise on the cello.

“Little Jack Horner” is a lyric I’ve had for years – it’s a “she done left me” song incorporating as many nursery rhyme phrases as I could fit. “Falling Angels” was inspired by the notion that your guardian angel was probably sick of looking after you and wanted to go out and party, and maybe not come back; it would explain a lot about the state of the world. Michael’s music for “Falling Angels” is particularly wonderful.

Anyone who wants attend from afar, there’s a Pay-per-view option.

Broken Glass

A few years ago, a Scandanavian composer approached me, after reviewing my website, to write English lyrics for a project. He gave me a couple of tracks to work on. The music was catchy but the rhythms were unusual.

I wrote lyrics, but for one reason or another they were too dark (or weren't dark enough) or too strange (or not strange enough) so I wrote new lyrics. Another consultation with his partner and he wanted something different, so I wrote new lyrics again. I wrote, I think, four versions of one track, three versions of another and a few other stray lyrics. Eventually, he and his partner (for reasons unrelated to the lyrics, gave up and couldn't get their project together, and the whole thing fizzled.

Which left me with a handful of lyrics, all in the same exact structure, with no home. C'est la vie. (This happened with a different composer on a lyric called "Falling Angels," which I wrote to match a track -- that lyric was picked up last year by a new composer and has been totally reset. So there's hope).

Goodnight Kiss Music, headed by the fabulous and supportive Janet Fisher, was having their annual song competition, and they had a little prize for lyrics as well, so I entered a few of mine, and "Broken Glass," one of the many rewrites I did for the Scandanavian composer, came in second. It's not on my website proper, and some folks wanted to read it, so here it is. Remember it was written to a specific piece of music and would have to be tweaked (at least) to fit a different one.



BROKEN GLASS
Lyric copyright 2009 Z. Mulls

The looking glass
Stared back and fell to the floor
And you were
Reflected in
Each shard, madonna and whore

Colors always the same
Amber and green and clear
If you remember my name
I'm your volunteer

I will come a-running

And I'm gonna crawl to you
Over BROKEN GLASS
Gonna dig a tunnel through
All this BROKEN GLASS
You're a prisoner of jagged pieces of truth
Hypnotized by your perception of what's absolute
I'll be with you after clearing a path
Through the BROKEN GLASS

Your murky eyes
Are mining your memories
Every night
You're pirouetting
On your silent trapeze

And when the lantern explodes
Shattering more than light
I'll be writing you odes
We can both recite

I can't keep my distance

And I'm gonna crawl to you
Over BROKEN GLASS
Gonna dig a tunnel through
All this BROKEN GLASS
You're a prisoner of jagged pieces of truth
Hypnotized by your perception of what's absolute
I'll be with you after clearing a path
Through the BROKEN GLASS


The blood won't stop flowing
The heart won't stop knowing
The blood won't stop flowing
The heart won't stop knowing


And I'm gonna crawl to you
Over BROKEN GLASS
Gonna dig a tunnel through
All this BROKEN GLASS
You're a prisoner of jagged pieces of truth
Hypnotized by your perception of what's absolute
I'll be with you after clearing a path
Through the BROKEN GLASS

Every Girl You Meet

I pretty much have to write this post backwards, because while there’s a long and winding backstory, there’s a more exciting ending. “Parentheses,” a song I cowrote with Jen Foster, was featured in an instrumental on the online series “Venice,” and is now available on Jen’s website for download. And frankly, I could stop typing right there and that would be blogworthy.

“Venice” is a spinoff-that-isn’t-a-spinoff from the cancelled soap THE GUIDING LIGHT. But even if you’re not a soap fan, the circuitous new-media route “Venice” has taken is an object lesson on how the television business is changing before our eyes.

THE GUIDING LIGHT featured a budding romance between two female characters, Olivia (played by Chrystal Chapell) and Natalia (played by Jessica Leccia). Neither character was identified as gay (as a matter of fact, they were in love with the same man). But the producers decided to bring them together, on a very long arc, so that their relationship grew naturally, over time. They never quite got to being a couple on GL, as it was cancelled two years ago.

However, Olivia and Natalia had a huge fan base (google “Otalia” and you’ll see what I mean). There were a lot of women, gay and otherwise, who watched in amazement as a mainstream soap showed a realistic incipient romance between two women, that wasn’t portrayed as sensationalistic or unhealthy. Fans wanted to know that “Otalia” finally got together.

So actress Crystal Chapell and writer Kim Turissi decided to “put on a show.” They created a web-only series taking place in Venice Beach, CA, with the two actresses from GUIDING LIGHT playing two totally new characters (Gina, an artist, and Ani, a photographer). In this series, both characters are gay, and have a history, but as the series starts they are breaking apart.

“Venice” was done on a shoestring, with actors and technicians donating their services for a while, just to get it done, with the hopes it would become a viable entertainment in time, finding its way to cable or even network. The first season had short (ten minute or so) episodes, filmed in peoples’ homes.

Season 3 is now started; the production values are way up and the storylines are coming into focus, Music plays a big part in “Venice” and the fans follow every artist whose music is featured, including my friend Coles Whalen. The show is supported in part by selling subscriptions to the series – you need to pay for access, but it’s only $10 for the whole season.

But the main musical voice belongs to Jen Foster, whose song “Venice Beach” was chosen to be the theme song. Jen’s music appears often on “Venice” and when she performs, the fans come out to hear her. (Jen deserves – and will eventually get – a blog post of her own. )

So in Episode 2, which was posted tonight, Gina and Ani have a big scene on the beach, where Gina discovers that Ani’s current lover may have hit her. The music underscoring the entire scene is the arrangement for“Parentheses” featuring my lyric and Jen’s music (with some collaborative overlap). The music fit the scene like a glove, and the lyric (which wasn’t used on screen) could be their theme song.

It’s wonderful to watch the song finally see the light of day. Available now at jenfoster.com!

Long(ing)ley to Nashville

A few years back, when I was looking around on the International Songwriting Competition site, listening to past winners, I saw an irresistible title. The winner in 2006 for Americana was “Girls With Apartments In Nashville” by Joy Lynn White and Duane Jarvis. It’s a http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifsimplhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gife little lyric about the flood of young, pretty things who flock to Nashville, ready to take the town by storm with their voice, their fretwork and their songs. Film actors to LA, stage actors to NYC, country singers to Nashville.

And when someone tells you they’re making that move, gonna make it in the big city, you want to wish them well, you hope the best for them, and at the same time you wince inwardly, knowing the odds, and how ruthless a dream can be in cutting down sensible advice.

But I think Liz Longley has a better shot than most. I had heard about Liz for a while, as she’s originally from Philly, and her name comes up from time to time (“oh, she’s great!”) but I hadn’t made it out to one of her gigs. Last night, my friends Seth Glier and Ryan Hommel were back at the Tin Angel, and they were opening for Liz. Liz and Seth went to music school together, are good friends, and are currently touring to raise awareness of food banks – on the “Food For Thought” tour, they are collecting non-perishable foods for delivery within the community. (I made sure I brought a nice full bag, which of course broke while carrying it out to the van).

But as I say, she a lot working in her favor. Her songwriting is quite good – humorous at times, creative, a knack for phrasing, and with the crucial knowledge of when a song happens…what events, sent through the prism of what notions, crystallize into a few verses and chorus that say a little and resonate.

And she’s young, which is a two-edged sword. Young people flock to Nashville, and most will be chewed up by the system because of their lack of life experience. But you have to be young, and stay young, to attract any attention from those who shine the spotlights so many want to feel on their faces.

More to the point, she has a fan base already, built up with care from Philly out to the rest of the country. People in Nashville don’t want to figure out what they can do for you – they want to know what you can do for them. You can’t build a fan base in Nashville, just about everyone there is a fellow songwriter. But it’s a smart place to be – for collaboration, networking, studio sessions – if you have http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifa musical life outside. Relationships with songwriters and venues all over the map – something to offer, something that means something.

And her boyfriend, Gus Berry, who plays guitar and sings backup with her, is mainly into production and engineering, which is where actual money is being made these days. So they won’t starve. And knowing your way around a studio is crucial for the do-it-yourself-ness of today’s market.

So, with a solid fanbase, a studio guru, a few CDs in the can, a catalog of songs, a record of co-writing, plus youth and good looks and a sweet voice – there’s not much more you can pack in your trunk before heading to Music City USA. I was glad to meet Liz last night, and wish her and Gus well in Nashville, I hope the best for them, and I didn’t even wince inwardly when I said that.

A Tale of Two Venues

It was the best of venues. It was the worst of venues. At least on two different nights.

I went out to back-to-back gigs, both times to see friends perform, and the two experiences couldn’t have been more different.

Friday’s gig was certainly not the performers’ fault. Michael G. Ronstadt was excellent as always, backing up singer Casey Reid Alvarez, and then doing a set with one of his regular partners David Trotta. Also performing was Dani Mari, a singer/songwriter who apparently runs an Open Mic at Triumph Brewing Company in Old City.

The venue was Connie’s Ric Rac, a deliciously raffish bar/space in the Italian Market. Walls covered with the work of local artists (most of it erotic or just obscene), rickety tables and comfy sofas, family bartenders and a makeshift stage with decent acoustics. Just a spit from 9th and Passyunk, where Pat’s and Geno’s have their cheesesteak standoff.

But Friday night was the final night of the playoffs, with the Phillies trying to make it to the next stage. Ever been in South Philly when there was a crucial playoff game in the balance? Madness.

There was almost no audience to speak of. And the game was being projected on a side awall with the sound off (while the musicians were playing). So the musicians were literally playing second fiddle. I thought about being indignant on their behalf but a) what kind of a bar in South Philly doesn’t show a playoff game, and b) if the game weren’t on there would have been no audience at all. So be it.

The musicians had the opportunity to experiment and riff a bit. I was there for the music, but admit to keeping an occasional eye on the score. Ronstadt and Trotta finished a song at almost the same second the Phils lost, and there was a real hesitation to the applause – nobody wanted to sound like they were applauding the tragic end of the season.

The next night was Burlap and Bean to see Seth Glier and Ryan Hommel and that was as smooth as a gig as it could have been. B&B has turned into a serious venue, especially on Saturday nights. They’ve added a permanent stage and mounted speakers, and it’s a real ‘listening room’ (no ball games, no conversation, just hearing the music). Seth and Ryan were in magnificent form and played for more than an hour, covering Seth’s past, present and future work.

The opener was a soulful Aussie gal named Mia Dyson – she has a huge throaty Americana voice (like Lucinda Williams) and is obviously moving forward with what promises to be a nice career. Keep an eye out for her on her East Coast tour.

B & B is a great venue to hear singer/songwriters when they come through town. I’d go back to Connie’s Ric Rac too – Michael tells me that on most nights it’s a much better venue. As long as you avoid playoff nights.a

Rewrite

Taking some songwriting lessons this morning. Which is to say I’m listening to the new Paul Simon album (“So Beautiful or So What”). And yes, Simon’s writing is idiosyncratic, for sure, but so is Mozart’s and so is Sondheim’s. Paul Simon has forgotten more about songwriting than I’ll ever know.

The lesson I’m leaning – that I’m re-learning – is how to not tell the story. Most of us overexplicate. We explain, we add so many words, we narrate – we are afraid of leaving gaps in the listener’s mental image, and we are afraid of leaving out connector words (definite articles, prepositions, etc.).

In one song about the afterlife (lots of songs about the end of days and the kingdom to come, Simon just turned 70), he sees a beautiful girl and tries to pick her up. The lines are short with internal rhymes, and without (literally) missing a beat, he says “Maybe you/ Maybe me/Maybe baby makes three” and there you have it. Says it all, cleverly, compactly, without spending several sentences about him trying to pick her up. Economy of language and thought.

In another song, he is listening to the radio, and he comments on how the pop station doesn’t sound like the music of his youth, he comments on the talk radio station, and stops at the gospel. Is that a perfect metaphor for life or what? Pop radio = youth, talk radio = middle-age, gospel = end of days. And that’s not even what the song is about, it’s just woven into the narrative.

He makes it seem effortless, but of course it’s not. He has said in interviews that he thought of the line “So Beautiful or so what” years ago and held onto it. It’s only now that he found a way to use it, or knew that he knew how to write it. It was too good a line to waste, and too good to use prematurely.

It’s the song “Rewrite” that grabs me most on the first few listens, in terms of songwriting economy. It’s about a Vietnam vet, old and broken down, working at a car wash. He’s either literally working on a screenplay at night, or he’s mentally working on a screenplay of his life (or it’s a metaphor) – rewriting it for a happy ending. Chorus is a simple eight lines:

I been working on my rewrite
Gonna change the ending
Gonna throw away my title
And toss it in the trash
Every minute after midnight
All the time I’m spending
It’s just for working on my rewrite
Gonna turn it into cash

Lovely rhymes across the verses (ending/spending, rewrite/midnight), spoken in vernacular, sketched in image of late nights and futile hope.

And there are only two eight-line verses, with very short lines, sketching in the story, but sketching in the barest details we need to know. In the first verse, he says he’s working at the car wash and:

Everybody says the old guy
Working at the car wash
Hasn’t got a brain cell
Left since Vietnam

That gives you a lot to think about. And it’s one long sentence spread over four musical phrases (that’s half the verse right there). “Everybody” – customers, coworkers – thinks he’s a dimwit. You can picture whomever you want but you get the picture.


And the second verse starts with:

I’ll eliminate the pages
Where the father has a breakdown
And he has to leave the family
But he really meant no harm

And there’s your story. The second half of the verse says that he’s going to put in a happier ending but you almost don’t need to know that. In another extended line he has told you how he ended up at the car wash, and why he’s “rewriting.” The short bridge is just a short internal prayer for help, and like most good bridges, gives the song a little pause so you can live in it another moment or two.

What sort of breakdown? Drugs? Alcohol? PTSD? Other mental illness? Do we care? Does it matter? It doesn’t matter – it’s a detail that needed to be removed.

You need to strip your story down, scrub it clean, take out every word and idea that doesn’t add. You *can* do a more complicated song, and there’s nothing wrong with it, but you need to choose to write that way. And you can’t choose to do that unless you have the discipline to strip it down to the bone before building it up again.

When you rewrite.