Randomocity

Andyman

2010-07-22T10:48:00.001-04:00

Back in the stone ages, CD101 had a tiny little office and DJ booth on south High St near German Village. If you didn't know what you were looking for as you made your way there, you were more than likely to miss it.

My pre-GPS marker was the "other" Buckeye Donuts, where I'd occasionally make a run for Andyman because he was working late. I can't remember now why I had so much time to kill or why I wasn't sleeping on those nights, but my favorite place to kill time was with Andyman in that tiny booth. I even made it onto the air a few times in my occasionally drunken state. Who knows what I said. Andy would just laugh his big comforting laugh and smile that amazing smile of his. Andy and I shared conversation and comraderie that helped feed my soul on those boozy nights.

One day, I played a CD101 night at Ludlows in the Brewery District. It was the only gig both my parents ever attended and I remember saying to Andy "Look, both my parents are out there and if you embarrass me, I'll kick your ass..." I'm sure the anxiety on my face showed I was serious. Andy somehow found a way to put a spotlight on both of them and introduce both of them when I stepped onto the stage. I can feel my face going red right now as I remember it. Darn that wicked drunken Andyman!

Over the years, we'd run into each other. In 1998, I went to a Columbus Chill hockey game at the fairgrounds for the first time with my new boyfriend and there was Andy, in a suit. I had to go over and mock him a little. I didn't know it then, but I'd scored big points with the boyfriend (now my husband) because I knew ANDYMAN.

Andyman was for me, a prince among human beings because he radiated so much genuine warmth. He wasn't perfect, but who amongst us is? So many of us felt the patch of sun that Andyman radiated. How could you not be drawn to it?

I love you. I miss you. I'll always remember you.

Mrs M

2010-02-27T22:47:00.007-05:00

Last summer, I met my friend and her mother at a resort in the Outerbanks. By anyone's standards, it was a blowout of a vacation. There was no expense spared. We ate extravagant meals, stayed in a opulent suite with an equally gorgeous view and were pampered beyond expectation in the spa. The reason? My friend's mother was dying.

The idea was to give her a send-off. One last blowout of a party. She hadn't been away from her husband since before they'd been married nearly a half century earlier. Here she was, with her youngest daughter and her daughter's best friend, celebrating together for the first and last time.

Between spa treatments and excursions with Mrs. M, I spent a lot of time on the North Carolina beach with my fly fishing rod, unsuccessfully trying to catch whatever may have been in the surf. I'd been told there were all sorts of fish trophies to be had. In the end, my enduring memory from that trip will be trying to light Mrs. M's cigarettes on the blustery veranda of our suite. I never failed, using my body to block the wind and even lighting several cigarettes between my own lips and handing them to her. When I asked my friend if it was really okay for her mother to be smoking, she replied, smiling sadly, "It doesn't matter now."

Last night after dinner with the family, I walked into the dim bedroom where Mrs. M lay. I remarked to myself how delicately papery and thin the skin on her fingers had become. This scene looked only slightly familiar to me as my own mother had been in a similar hospital bed more than ten years earlier. Mrs. M though, was listening to her dayglow green iPod with just one earbud in and when I chuckled to myself at the sight, she opened her eyes and smiled. I told her about dinner and how everyone had devoured the Chinese food I had delivered.

"Oh, they must've loved that," she said quietly.

"Oh yeah." I replied.

Silence between the dying and the living is a remarkable gift. In those moments, where we, the living, are certain that someone is slipping away, there is often the sharpest clarity.

In my moment, I said to Mrs. M, "Can I hug you?" She put her arms up slowly. I know it must have been difficult. Painful. I leaned over the hospital bed railing and wrapped my arms around her, kissed her gently on each soft papery cheek and looked her in the eye.

"Thank you for making my best friend," I whispered.

"You're welcome."

I held her hand for a long time afterward. Examined her fingers and the wedding rings that no longer fit side by side, but rather clumsily overlapped like two exhausted friends. There was nothing more to say. At least nothing I could think of.

This morning, Mrs. M passed on.

I'm not really worried about my friend and her family. They are sturdy Italian and German folk from Northeast Ohio, incapable of idleness or able to stay down for too long.

My only concern is I hope wherever Mrs. M is, someone is blocking the wind and lighting her cigarettes.

Christmas Postal Story

2009-12-19T20:37:00.029-05:00

It started with pancake syrup and chili powder, as these things have a tendency to do. I went to the post office Thursday morning to mail a package overseas. I was mailing pancake syrup and chili powder to Germany. You apparently can't find Aunt Jemima or good tacos in Germany, so every so often, I take pity on my expatriate friends.

I arrived early and as I'd hoped, there were only a few people in front of me in the line. There was one young lady working behind the counter. Her nametag said "Veronica." She looked like a new employee. When I say new, I mean she didn't have those distinctive frown lines that well-seasoned postal employees all seem to have during the holiday season. Veronica was smiling and helpful, not at all dour and unpleasant. I settled into the line and waited my turn.

A few moments later I stepped up, placed my package on the counter, and told her I was sending it to Germany. Veronica paused for a moment, as if I had just been speaking German and then apologetically said "Oh, uh, let me weigh this first." After a few moments, "Oh its six pounds," she said and then added "its over the limit." What does that mean?

If I was shipping free weights, or an unabridged dictionary, that, I might believe could be over the limit. But two bottles of Aunt Jemima plain pancake syrup and three bottles of chili powder? I was about to protest, when suddenly from under the counter Veronica flipped a small pile of paperwork. "Please fill these out" she said happily. Fine, I thought. I needed to finish soon and get to work so I started writing.

2 Bottles Pancake Syrup
3 Bottles Chili Powder

I'd gotten through the section of the customs document where you actually list what you are sending, I was just about to lie about how much I thought everything was worth, when I shifted in my spot at the counter and suddenly realized that where there had been one person in the line behind me, now there were twenty. Twenty? Twenty!

My face suddenly went hot. Somehow, they'd all snuck in, like silent ninjas while I was grappling with my box of expat goods and lying on my customs form! In the horrific silence of the post office, I could feel their eyeballs burning a hole into the back of my head. My mind made up all sorts of unpleasant commentary that was silently being hurled at me from behind. You un-prepared bitch! How dare you fill out yer damn forms at the counter!

It turns out, this time of year, the Post Office has a computer system slow-down because of all the increased usage. So while I finished filling out my paperwork, my now creepily happy postal worker waited patiently, ostensibly for the solution to my over the limit issue to show up on her screen. WOMAN BEATEN TO DEATH WITH HOLIDAY GIFTS, I imagined tomorrow's headline would read.

Its an unspoken rule, and Emily Post would back me up I think, that one doesn't say to postal employees "Hurry up." I imagine the result would be similar to poking a sleeping bear or throwing rocks at an angry beehive.... I mean, there is the term "postal" after all. Why was this taking so long? Fuuuuck.

I'm lucky in one respect, when it comes to embarrassment, I have conveniently caramel-colored skin, so if I do start to turn red, I just start looking more like a spray-on Dorito-colored tan as opposed to my normal color. Maybe I'll fidget with my phone...oh shit.... I casually looked around and finally found it. There it was, the "Please Do Not Use Cell Phones" sign above my head. Sigh.

After a few more tense moments, Veronica finally said "It'll be $59.00." I'd already pulled out my credit card. It could have cost three times that much. I would have paid it. I no longer cared what over the limit meant. She ran my card through and handed me a slip of paper that was too large to be a receipt. "Oh, you have to fill this out too." I could hear packages being shifted from arm to arm. That's how long people had been waiting in the line behind me. Long enough for the hard edge of a Christmas gift to wear an uncomfortable groove in the sender's arm. The slip of paper turned out to be the packing slip where I had to write the to and from addresses.

I hurriedly wrote and double-checked the packing slip, signed the credit card slip, turned to Veronica and asked "Are we done?" "Yup, you're all done." she said.

As I was gathering up my things, I heard Veronica ask "If its undeliverable, do you want us to return it or abandon it?" "Abandon," I said. I imagined my poor package lying in a ditch next to the Munich airport. "Yes, abandon," I said again, this time with more resolve.

And with that, I walked quickly out of the lobby.

Its only been a few days since the Post Office debacle. I realize now of course that none of that was my fault. I'm hoping to get an email in the next few days that reads something like "Your package arrived safely. We had pancakes for dinner!" or "I thought you said you were sending pancake syrup! The children are disappointed, Elisa!"

My fear, of course, is that they call in a week or so and tell me that it never arrived. And then I'll be forced to go back to the post office and fill out another set of forms because my package is over the limit. So this story is a preemptive strike to let them know what I've gone through (and what I would go through) in order to get them pancake syrup and chili powder.

This time though, I'll have them go through the trouble of returning it if its undeliverable. Abandon schmandon.

Off The Grid

2009-09-30T22:20:00.008-04:00

Sorry its been so long. I was thinking recently what a great summer I've had. I went on vacation, not once, not twice, but three times! I've never been able to say that. The truth is I've purposefully been off the grid a bit so that I could "find my edges."

I planted flowers. I've never planted flowers. I bought patio furniture. Hired a lawn service and got hooked on Mad Men.

I didn't totally neglect the muse. I produced two projects this past year and started a third, which seems to have stalled for the moment. Later in the fall I'm producing another jazz group with an amazing accordion-playing frontman. Very excited about that.

In the meantime, its been me, the boy and the cat. I will try to keep up with the blogging a little better.

When I meet you...

2009-02-27T14:56:00.005-05:00

I sometimes wish that when I've met someone for the first time, that they'll hand me a card with a short narrative on what are ultimately the important bits of their personal history. Honestly, I think it would save time. Here's an example.

Jane/John Doe

30, Single, Middle of 3 kids, Parents are Professors, OSU Grad Student, Live Music Lover, Originally from New Mexico, Politically Moderate. I love Chinese food. I often pretend I can tell the difference between Chinese and Japanese people on the street. I go shopping with my best friend at thrift stores and second hand shops, but secretly would rather be at the Pottery Barn. I know what happened on the Office every week by reading the episode updates online every Friday, but really my favorite show is the Real Housewives of Orange County. I will nod at you while you blather on and on about whatever it is you just said only because it makes me look more interesting and seemingly invested in whatever the hell you are saying...

Okay, everyone start writing up their first drafts. We'll compare at the bar.

Mixing the Tin Hearts

2009-01-15T21:10:00.002-05:00

History repeats the old conceits...

2008-12-15T22:33:00.005-05:00

I've been in the throes of some sort of non-gigging funk. I took the fall off to concentrate on writing and producing. I've been strapped to my mix desk for nearly 4 months, recording and writing, adding, subtracting, editing, mixing, mixing, mixing. Its been an interesting road, one with quite a bit of frustration and in some instances a little drama but the one thing I can say is that I'm definitely ready for some more live shows and to get back to playing.

Bassist Larry Cook and I have decided to do something crazy and play all our favorite Elvis Costello tunes on the last day of February in 2009. We were comparing lists somewhat wide-eyed yesterday. We both have some obscure tunes from the EC catalog, perhaps a testament to our both worshipping at the temple of Costello.

I remember in high school seeing a violinist from the city orchestra I was in get on the elevator after practice. The one thing I noticed about her was a tiny reddish button with the words Elvis Costello on it. The only Elvis I knew, was the one who liked peanut butter and banana sandwiches, and I only knew that because my doctor parents had a secretary who had tiny shrines built to the former Elvis all over her rented house, the other half of which was my parents private practice. Costello was of course one half of a comic duo that I never seemd to be able to get straight, even now. So the next time we were outside the practice room at the local college I finally asked, "who is that?"

That one question opened a waterfall of other questions, some of which I'm still asking today. Alison led to the Beat to Everyday I write the...Beyond Belief, Tokyo Storm Warning, Veronica, Clubland, the list goes on and on. Who is this guy? How in the hell can he be so prolific? And so good? The man moves me.

Dinner: Chorizo over rice
Listening: Dido - Safe Trip Home

Impromptu Rehearsal at Midpoint Music Festival

2008-10-02T17:04:00.001-04:00

Sarah and Hillary

2008-09-18T23:02:00.002-04:00

This is the funniest opener to SNL I've seen in a long time.

Comfest 2008

2008-08-29T14:09:00.006-04:00

East coast adventure

2008-08-03T23:04:00.016-04:00

Thursday, July 31 was Drew's birthday and as such I felt obligated to throw him at least a little bit of a party. My only problem that day is that we were both travelling to Boston for a performance with all my gear in tow. I'm a bit of a mess when it comes to travelling for a show. There are lots of details to keep track of, most of which I do a passable job at but add to that a birthday and the mix becomes just that much harder.

As it turns out, I really didn't need to worry. One of my best friends who lives in Salem had already gotten the party hats, cake and streamers for a little celebration before my show. So when she came around the corner singing a slightly convoluted version of "Happy Birthday" my pre-show stress disappeared. The rest of the time was completely enjoyable.

My show went off without a hitch and we had a good receptive crowd at the Gulu Gulu Cafe in Salem. I tried for the first time singing one of Tony Scherr's tunes "In My Hands." A beautiful song. We spent the next day running around the city including a gallery showing of one Alyssa's pieces at SOWA (South of Washington Ave), an area in South Boston that has historically housed artist workspaces until recently when building owners realized they could get far more cash by simply selling them for re-development as condo's for the very new rich. I was told that a 500 - 600 square foot space will fetch somewhere in the neighborhood of 450 or 500,000 dollars. Yikes.

Afterwards Alyssa took us to one of the new hot restaurants called Myers & Chang around the corner. The restaurant was packed and we found the menu interesting and full of fusiony but authentic Chinese flavors. We tried edamame and celery slaw, chive pancakes, pork and chive dumplings made with authentic Chinese pork. My personal favorite was the Beef and Broccoli Chow Fun, a coulotte steak, baby bok choy and fat noodles.

We caught a flight to Washington DC yesterday so that we could go on a limousine tour of the Northern Virginia's expansive wine country today. First stop was the tiny Swedenberg winery. There was only a single woman manning the tasting area and we found most of their wine unremarkable.

The second stop was the tiny village of Middleburg. Here we found an amazing food store called the Market Salamander. I took the opportunity pick up some homemade cheese and macaroni and bottle of some Framboise.

The last stop was the Chrysalis vineyard. Drew and I decided to try the special Reserve wine tasting and for nearly a full hour sampled more than 10 wines, often taking more than one taste of a single bottle. By the time we were finished, we were more than a little woozy. We stumbled back up the hill to the picnic area and finally had something to eat.

Dinner: BBQ Chicken and Rice
Listening: In Your Own Sweet Way - Wes Montgomery

Random Notes

2008-07-24T10:30:00.008-04:00

Minor hotel debacle this weekend. 1st Room: Dirty glasses, makeup and other weird substances on the comforter. Hotel staff moved us to a new room. 2nd Room: Back from the gig, hubby flushes toilet, toilet promptly spills water all over the floor and the room. 1:30 am plumber shows up, unplugs the toilet but leaves a little "present" on the floor to completely gross me out. 3rd Room: It was a suite, but the damage was already done. We kept looking around for the next negligently gross problem to rear its ugly head. I woke the next morning to strange noises in the next room. It was the very loud, possibly newlywed couple in the next room trying to wake the whole floor. Oy. Sometimes, you just aren't meant to get any rest.

Lunch: Whatever I can scrounge up.
Listening: Open Late - Ryan Lindsey

Laying down tracks at Sonic Lounge

2008-06-18T16:50:00.006-04:00

I'm producing a record for the band Miss Molly. Here we are recording basic tracks at Sonic Lounge.

1930's Wife Score

2008-06-13T11:11:00.000-04:00

As a 1930s wife, I am
Very Poor (Failure)

Take the test!

What does it take?

2008-06-11T22:08:00.009-04:00

Last night, on my drive home from a gig in Cleveland, I stopped at a gas station somewhere off I-71 at around 2:00 am. Just for fun, I was wearing a little black dress that had been my mother's. The Mary Anns had had a terrific gig at the Grog Shop earlier in the evening and I was feeling tired but happy with our outing. One of my bandmates was sitting in the passenger seat as I pumped gas. My heart breaks when I think about what happened next.

I looked around the nearly empty gas station lot and saw only a white 4 door Jeep Wrangler with several young men looking at me from across the lot. Suddenly, the Jeep's stereo came alive. I don't remember the lyrics completely but I remember the first line "I don't give a damn about the NAACP" followed a few moments later by the "n-word." Then I realized all the men in the Jeep were singing the song at the top of their lungs and smiling at me. At first, I really thought I was imagining it, but then I realized I wasn't. I stopped pumping gas, hung up the pump and walked quickly to the drivers side of the car. I heard the Jeep engine rev as the men cut the car in a quick arc around the lot. As they swung by the back of my car, I could hear a few of them yelling anti-Asian slurs I had not heard since I was in grade school. The car sped out of the lot, the occupants still singing.

I was really surprised by my reaction afterward. I was, of course completely furious and frightened at first. I felt violated, my whole body poisoned by the experience. I spent the next hour talking about what had happened with my passenger. And what began as pure vitriol on my part, a lame attempt to retroactively defend myself from their cruel attack, soon gave way to disappointment and supreme sadness.

I couldn't help but think "What does it take?" I thought, they weren't born spewing that kind of hatred. What does it take? What chain of events have to happened for someone to feel capable of an act like that? For fun? My other thought was that the Universe would eventually pay them back for that very large withdrawal from the Karma bank. They don't even know it.

There is some part of me that has forgiven them already. She is the woman who, if given the opportunity, would sit them down and quietly ask them why?

Exceptional young ladies

2008-05-29T23:43:00.003-04:00

I had lunch today with a young woman who interned at my work briefly this year. I haven't seen her in several months. She is graduating from college in a few weeks and then she'll be off to London to study Shakespeare next year. I'm not sure how it happened exactly but she sort of became my charge while she worked there and we developed what I hope will be a lasting friendship.

She was sitting there picking at her pasta at Eddie George's restaurant on campus while I tried to down my lousy Caesar salad, happily telling me about what she was looking forward to, her love life, how she is uncomfortable in her size 2 body. I laughed at her and asked "How the hell old are you anyway?" "Twenty-one" she replied almost apologetically. I told her "your ass is never going to look this good ever again. So enjoy the fact that you have a tiny size 2 ass because years from now you're going to remember that I said this and you'll say to yourself "Holy Shit! She was right!"

We finished our lunch and stood at the corner of 11th and High St squinting in the sunlight before saying goodbye. In that moment, I really wanted to cry. A part of me wants to weep now because I worry about how the world will treat this lamb of a girl. She is optimistic and earnest, full of promise with her skinny ass and even skinnier perspective of the world and its possibilities. The other thing I thought was I might never see this kid again. If I had a daughter, I'd want her to grow up to be just like this young woman. Exceptional and green.

Dinner: Taco Pizza from Eagles in New Albany (Is it Italian? Is it Mexican?)
Listening: Soft Touch - Meaghan Smith

Balancing Act

2008-05-28T23:26:00.000-04:00

I need some balance in my life. Or maybe I already have it. I can't tell. Ironically, on days that I've schedule off, I almost always find a way not to relax.

This past weekend was the Memorial Day weekend. Nearly every person that I posed this question to on Tuesday "How was your weekend?" replied with something to the effect of "Great! I spent all of my time in my garden." The closest I got to that was going with my mother-in-law to pick out a Japanese maple tree which today looks crunchy and slightly sickly.

I gigged on Saturday and Sunday and camped out under the stars in the cold on Sunday night. Fortunately, I consumed just enough bourbon to keep myself reasonably warm.

Monday morning I got home and realized the laundry bomb had exploded in the basement once again and so all the time I had purposefully set aside to spend in my garden was instead spent washing muddy clothing. I can never complain at least that my life is boring.

Dinner: Falafel sandwich
Listening to : Miss Molly - Lost For Words

Wouldn't you know it...

2008-05-03T23:59:00.012-04:00

A few weeks ago I finally had a chance to just take it easy for the weekend. No gigs, no nothing. Wouldn't you know it, I found it really hard to just sit and relax. A friend of mine was saying she has the same problem. When she's not on the road and just home, she feels like she can hardly keep still. I wonder if there's a name for that. Its something that simultaneously annoys and amuses me.

There has been no lack of activity for me lately. I was in Baltimore a few weeks ago and just got back from a show in New York at Banjo Jim's with my friend Megan. Its been a 30 hour whirlwind.

Larry and I caught a plane to New York Friday morning and hopped a taxi to Brooklyn to our friends Manj and Bill's house. We hung out for a little bit, power-napped for 30 minutes and then hit the subway to the East Village for dinner at an interesting hookah bar and restaurant called Rico's. We ordered kebabs and falafel and a few minutes later a taxi pulled up, a delivery guy jumped out and handed our dinner to the waiter. I've never been to a restaurant where that happened.

Last night was a great night for music in New York as it always is. As luck would have it our friend Happy Chichester was playing at the Bowery Ballroom with RJD2 so Manj and Bill caught our set at Banjo Jim's and then high-tailed it to the Bowery to see Happy and then ran back to Banjo Jim's just in time to see the end of Megan's set.

Banjo Jim's was a great night with a lot of great music. In addition to Megan, Tony Scherr played a short but amazing set. Meg, Larry and I were hanging out at the bar before Tony's set when a charming and slightly intoxicated Irishman began reciting poetry to us.

Listening: The Girl You Lost to Cocaine - Sia
Dinner: Lettuce Wraps at Frog Bear with an Absolut Martini

Silent Movie Distortion

2008-04-22T21:56:00.004-04:00

I just finished a rehearsal with Mary Anns drummer Tera Stockdale. We will be performing a duet to a Laurel and Hardy silent film classic "Big Business" at her son's middle school. At first I was sort of not looking forward to it. But Tera set the drums up in the control room of my studio and I plugged my guitar in, put the earplugs in and started kicking ass on the guitar. How much fun was that! I can't wait til we do it live. Friday Night at 7 pm people at Indianola Middle School in Columbus, Ohio.

Dinner: Steamed dumplings, sesame seed balls
Listening: The Smiths The Queen Is Dead

East Village April 5, 2008

2008-04-09T23:03:00.001-04:00

Busman Audio BA-L2 Microphone

2008-04-03T23:59:00.000-04:00

A mastering engineer friend of mine bought a set of Busman Audio small diaphragm condensers and used them to record one of my live shows. The performance was only so so, but sonically, it was one of the most dimensional live recordings I've ever heard. Depth, air, well-defined and controlled bass. Not a hint of harshness in the high end. I was in the market for a new large diaphragm condenser and as luck would have it, Chris Johnson, owner of Busman Audio, just happened to be releasing his very first large diaphragm condensers. They were inexpensive at $250, so I ordered it sight unseen.

The BA-L2 is a multi-pattern class A FET with a transformer-coupled output. The mic has a glossy BA "schoolbus yellow" finish. Each mic comes with a 5 year limited warranty and includes a hard molded case, shockmount and windscreen.

I am very impressed with this microphone. It sounds terrific and performs well in a number of recording situations. It has similar qualities as the Busman small condensers I mentioned before; smooth top end and no crispiness. It handled a key jangle transient test with no problems. Also, the proximity effect is well-controlled, which I find rare in a lot of mics in this price range. Here is a simple acoustic guitar sample that I got running the mic into my stock Digi 002R with no compression or EQ, about 10 inches at the 14th fret.

This microphone looks like it originated in the same Chinese factory as the Avantone CK7, but that is where the similarities end. Chris Johnson opens up every BA microphone and replaces all the parts with "very high quality components" including van den Hul wiring.

I have a single complaint, which is incredibly minor when I think about how this microphone sounds. I wish it included a slightly better shockmount. I have to handle the shockmount very carefully in order for it to not scratch the mic. There, thats it; my one complaint.

Chris Johnson is well known in taper circles for providing affordable modifications for a number of microphones as well as portable digital recorders. He has only just started to produce microphones under the Busman Audio name, but has already developed a "buzz" amongst hard-core live concert recordists for his attention to detail and his very high quality products. I asked Chris what his goals were and he told me that his long-term goal is to continue to provide mods and microphones but also develop mic pres at some point in the future. For the time being, he is concentrating on his new microphone line. If the BA-L2 or his small condensers are any indication, I think we may be hearing a lot more from Busman Audio.

The Mary Anns at SXSW 2008

2008-03-31T19:38:00.002-04:00

I'm a slut...

2008-03-27T22:44:00.008-04:00

Anyone who knows me, knows that I'm sort of a "gear slut." In other words, I love music making gear and all of its accessories. There is something about acquiring gear that is unlike any other form of shopping fanaticism, because the object of our fantasy has the potential to help a lustful musician, like myself, transcend the earth and all its physical boundaries. It somehow helps us become better artists. Like any other kind of consumerism there is something aspirational about shopping for music gear. We want to be better people. And whether its a guitar or a new gig bag, the rush and "heart swell" before, during and after the purchase is singular and addictive.

The caveat to all of this is, hopefully you find balance between acquiring gear and becoming a better musician or person. In some instances, you could turn into someone like John Entwhistle, bass player for The Who and gear slut extraordinaire who literally acquired hundreds of instruments over his career. For me, its been a matter of getting the best tools to the gig or the studio and being able to have some versatility while traveling light.

I've been on the road so much lately that when I'm travelling by myself, I have a tendency to strip down to the essentials. There have been weeks where my hotel room looked like this. Thats pretty much what the inside of my head looked like as well, I think.

I've been on a gig bag buying spree lately looking for the lightest weight and heaviest duty bags I can find. (I know. It seems like a contradiction.) I'm no John Entwhistle, so my instruments have to pull double duty in the studio and on the road. Thats a frightening proposition taking my favorite studio guitar on the plane and toting it through train stations and letting it be handled by "throwers" at the airport. The gig bag above is a TRIC made by Godin. Its light as a feather and supposedly I can stand on it, although I don't think I really want to try. I can wear it on my back and run through the airport and if absolutely necessary, I can let it get gate checked and stowed under the plane. So while other people are white-knuckled during bumpy flights over the Rockies or landing in the Windy City at Midway, I'm usually wide-eyed at the thought that "My Precious!" is getting tossed around in the luggage hold.

So its not sexy, but it still counts. I'm still a slut even though I'm just buying scads of high-end luggage for my instruments.

Dinner: Tuna Noodle Casserole - cuz Drew wanted it and I've never made it before.
Listening: Johnny's Garden - Ana Egge

SXSW Day 3

2008-03-15T09:14:00.011-04:00

Austin by rickshaw

Michelle and I caught Shelby Lynne's BMI show at the Austin Music Hall. She was supporting her new record of Dusty Springfield inspired covers and originals. Here's Shelby playin' rough with a crowd in Hollywood in 2005 on the Stones "Dead Flowers."

After Shelby, we caught a rickshaw ride to the center of town.

I went to Tony Scherr's showcase at the Garden Hilton 18th floor lounge. Tony is a sublimely talented songwriter and guitarist. My friend Megan turned me on to his solo work a year or so ago, so I was eager to see and meet him. He was on his third gig and a little flummoxed. But after babbling a bit incoherently for the first few minutes rewarded the patient audience with a beautiful set.

SXSW Day 2

2008-03-14T08:28:00.002-04:00

Tim Fite at Cedar Street Courtyard

Mary Anns at SXSW Day 1

2008-03-12T22:16:00.008-04:00

Video blog update from Austin

Mary Anns first meal

The Mary Anns

2008-03-04T19:16:00.014-05:00

Saturday night in Athens, the Mary Anns narrowly averted disaster when our drummer accidentally ate a bean burrito at Casa Nueva in Athens cooked with peanut butter. Yes, she's allergic. (I loved Tera's editorial comment: What kind of stupid hippies make peanut butter the secret ingredient in a bean burrito?) As they say, the show must go on, and the MAs including Tera, put on our lipstick, turned our amps up to eleven and rocked Jackie O's.

Its been quite a ride so far. I'm hanging with some strong-willed and colorful female personalities in this band. That's not to say everyone is bitchy. Although next week, the band is traveling to Austin, Texas for the SXSW Festival. And we may very well turn into bitches since we're hanging out together for nearly 4 days of non-stop rock indulgence. The gig is the least of my worries. I need to figure out how I'm going to see as many artists as I can while I'm there and keep my sanity traveling with the glam girl circus. This is gonna be interesting.

Dinner: Kung Pao Chicken
Listening: 27 Jennifers by Mike Doughty

Phew! A week off...

2008-03-02T01:52:00.003-05:00

Well, February was the busiest month I think I've ever had gig-wise. Just some highlights, played at the Living Room in NYC, Seattles in Wooster, Hootenany at Lost Weekend Records, the Rumba last night and then my interview at WRDL 88.9 in Ashland. Here is my live in-studio performance of Who's Going to Love You.

A New York Valentine

2008-02-15T20:54:00.007-05:00

Yesterday, I flew into NYC and had a lovely whirlwind of a day with my friend Megan. I caught a cab from LaGuardia around 10:30 in the morning and got stuck in traffic on the Brooklyn-Queens Highway. Just long enough to get in a little catnap.

When I opened my eyes again, I was squinting in the sunlight through the taxi windows as we careened down Flatbush Avenue in mid-morning traffic. As we turned the corner onto Eastern Parkway, past the venerable Brooklyn Museum, I was overcome with the slightly foreign feeling of total well-being.

We sat in Megan's very warm and humid apartment for an hour or so. (I believe that rainforest plants could thrive in her bedroom.) After sweating the toxins out of our bodies, we made our way over to Tom's Diner, (yes, the one from Suzanne Vega's famous song) and had some breakfast. The interior is part circus decorations, christmas lighting and enormous faux springtime-colored plastic flower arrangements. Great food, not too expensive, wonderful staff and the somewhat touchy-feely Tom makes his way around to say hi to everyone.

We returned to the apartment and played some new songs for each other and then rehearsed "In Tall Buildings" a beautiful John Hartford song for Megan's set. Meg suggested we run down to a guitarist acquaintance of hers to rehearse a bit more. So we packed all our stuff, guitars, cables and cds and started off for the train. We were on the F train headed to another part of Brooklyn when the conductor's concerned voice came over the loudspeaker, "We will be stopping at Jay St/Burrough Hall because of a police investigation. This will be the last stop. Please exit the train." This statement was repeated a full four times so no one would forget it. I obviously didn't.

Megan and I found ourselves somewhere in Brooklyn without an idea where to go so we optimistically picked a direction and just started walking. We tried numerous times to hail a taxi but it was 5 pm and every driver who heard our plea of 2nd and Jay St. sped off for a more lucrative fare. Its fortunate that we were with each other, because over an hour later, we still weren't at our destination and we weren't at each other's throats.

The guitarist turned out to be Teddy Kumpel, a session player and New York sideman/composer. (Rickie Lee Jones, Chris Brown) Teddy's apartment is jammed full of sound-making objects, guitars, recording equipment, computers, amps. There is enough stuff to make a techno-geek musician like me drool. I was hoping it didn't show on my face; the envy, the awe; but after awhile, I just gave up and started asking questions about EVERYTHING. Whats this? What's that? Here's Teddy with my favorite thing a Greco miniaturized 335-ish knock-off. Me want.

Teddy is such a graceful and tasteful musician/person. Later at the Living Room, he sat in on part of my set adding light-as-air flourishes and swells to my songs while Megan sang back-up vocals and played some sweet violin. Later, we sat in together on Megan's set. Emilie Cardineaux, a terrific pianist and singer also sat in on the set. I had heard of her and listened to her stuff online but had never seen her in action. I have only one word. Wow. I hope I can catch her doing her thing some time very soon.

It was a great evening. One I won't soon forget. We spent the rest of the evening hanging out with friends in the main bar of the Living Room. I spied Richard Julian in the corner with a few friends. I'm really looking forward to his new record. A 13 piece female accordion band was there. One of their members was a beautiful Asian woman in a white sequined mini-dress with pink hair and full-size angel wings. I love New York.

This afternoon I caught a train at Penn Station near Times Square to Washington D.C. The train is oh so lovely. I adore the conductor's voice gently calling "tickets, tickets please." I paid $9.00 for a tuna sandwich and chips in the snack car and ate what I could of it; definitely the low point of the train ride. Eventually the rhythm of the train lulled me to sleep. When I opened my eyes again, we were at Union Station.

So now I'm sitting here in my sister's living room making "cootie catchers" for my niece. In a few minutes, I'll be reading a chapter or two of Harry Potter while she falls asleep. I'll be honest. I'd rather be in this living room, but won't soon forget the other one.

Dinner: Thai fat noodles with beef stew. Mmm...
Listening: Clothes softly tumbling over and over in the dryer...

Miles and miles to go...

2008-02-10T22:34:00.001-05:00

I performed at the Village Inn in Gambier, Ohio on Friday. What a terrific venue and crowd. I had some minor gear trouble before the gig. My effects board became mangled somehow. Currently, it is sitting in an untidy heap on the dining room table. I'll get to it soon.

I've decided to forego the Grammy's this evening. The only bit I caught was Amy Winehouse winning best new artist. Good for her! I've been feeling a little icky today. I actually got on the roof of my house in the 50 mph wind to fix a turbine that had come loose. Not my finest hour. So now I think I'm paying the price by feeling just a little achy.

I'm doing a lot of travelling this week. Thursday, Valentine's day, I fly to New York to perform at the Living Room with my good friend Megan Palmer and then the next day travel to Washington, D.C. for a show at Phase One.

I'm excited in a way that borders on nervousness. Not so much about performing at these great venues, but rather the fact that I have a tightly choreographed travel "two-step" that I have to do that actually involves, planes, trains and automobiles in exactly that order! I shouldn't be worried about it. That's my mother in me.

Dinner: Black bean burger with salad
Listening: I can hear Tina Turner upstairs belting out "Whats Love Got To Do With It"

Soul is everything

2008-02-09T23:02:00.001-05:00

I've been on a tear collecting CDs and downloading music lately. One of the best CD's I've acquired in the last few months is Amy Winehouse's debut Frank, which was re-released a few months ago. It breaks my heart to see her splattered all over the news. She is easily one of the most soulful artists I've ever heard. Whatever journey she is on, I hope she's able to shine on. Here she is doing one of my favorite tunes from Frank "Know You Now." Glorious, I tell you.

Fabulous February

2008-01-26T20:47:00.001-05:00

Was fortunate enough to have another terrific gig last night at the Rumba here in the C-bus. Just a magical night. Lots of friends came out and lots of people I hadn't met before. I was in the middle of performing when I spied a couple of people I'd never met energetically singing the words to my song.

Sat in with Miss Molly on Gone Gone Gone, Come Together and a few of her originals. I even got to dance with Drew during her set. What a joyful time we had.

Valentines Day, I'll be in New York again performing at the heralded Googie's Lounge at the Living Room in support of my new record. Then its off to Penn Station to grab a train to our nation's capital, Washington D.C. for a show with my buddy Fumi at Phase One on Sunday, February 17.

February 23, I'll be giving a live in-studio performance and interview 10:30 AM on 88.9 WRDL in support of my show that evening at Seattle's in Wooster.

The next day, February 24, I'm back home for an in-store performance at Lost Weekend Records at 3 PM.

I have a new mantra anymore. When the opportunity presents itself, no matter what, take advantage of it. You might not get another chance. I only really thought about that when I was in New York with Larry Cook, our bass player, and he wanted to hit a gig at Columbus Circle with a friend of his, but was worried about his equipment and the narrowing window of time to get up there from our gig in the East Village. I said to him, "When will the universe align like this again and give you this opportunity? Its here. Now go do it." He looked at me, smiled and said "You're right. I'm going." I realized I really need to take my own advice. Its much easier to make dramatic sweeping statements concerning someone else's life. Never your own.

So every chance I'm getting to play to new people I'm doing it and so far the strategy is paying off. I have a feeling I'm not going to be home much this year. The road beckons.

Dinner: Turkey panini, chicken noodle soup and chocolate soy milk. Mmmm.
Listening: Andrew Bird - Imitosis

Out and about on the solo gig

2008-01-18T10:21:00.001-05:00

I'm sitting here in a humongous and cushy bathrobe Drew gave me for Christmas last year. The arms are entirely too long and it nearly drags on the ground when I'm walking around. But it is positively perfect for lazing around the house on a day off.

Went to Wooster, Ohio last night for a gig at Seattles Coffee. First of all let me just say "Whoa!" What a great venue. Met some new friends (Wooster Warriors! Holla!), sold some CDs and had an all-around terrific set. It is from a logistical perspective a completely easy gig. One guitar. One mic. But once you get in front of a crowded room entirely by yourself, the real work begins. I was sweating by the end. I worked harder last night than I've worked playing in a long time. What an education.

Breakfast: Absolutely nothing. Waiting for the BFF to wake up so we can go eat!
Listening: Ghostland Observatory - Rich Man. Talk about jump-starting your morning.

In the Zone Adventures

2008-01-13T02:59:00.000-05:00

Phew! We had great fun in New York. The crowd at Banjo Jim's dug the show. We had ton of hits on MySpace Friday night, added many more friends and more importantly, we were completely "in the zone" during our performance.

Strangely, even before we left on Thursday, I was in the zone. Usually, before I leave, I'm dealing with a half dozen last minute details, making phone calls, lists, just anything that will drive me crazy. But Wednesday night, all the work was done, bags packed, the rentals lined up, guitars restrung, amps retubed, all warm bodies accounted for. I actually fell asleep before midnight. That rarely happens.

So I consider myself fortunate. Every once in a while, the planets are aligned and the resulting superpower is Total Zone Domination.

Thursday night after arriving in to town, and after we'd put our gear safely away in the hotel, we took a town car to Times Square and had dinner and drinks at the Hard Rock Cafe. Yes, a little touristy. But when can you say you had dinner next to Lenny Kravitz's pants?

Friday, we hopped the 7 train at the Main St/Flushing station downtown to Grand Central and then the 5 Train to Little Italy and had vodka pizza and lasagna at Pomodoro. Delicious! Man, the boys in the band can eat.

Banjo Jim's is a wicked cool club. Right at the corner of 9th Street and Avenue C in the East Village, the club is a magnet for serious music-lovers in New York City. A great big thank you to the staff at Banjo Jim's for having us.

We were grateful to have some familiar faces come out and support us at the club. That is always welcome when you're in a different city. This is my friend, New York-based photographer Manjari Sharma. Manj is "lightning in human form." She is the definition of artfulness. Spontaneous, beautiful, and just a joy to be around. Be sure to go through her entire portfolio online. It is amazing.

Honestly, its not all in the planets. We put a lot of work and foresight into the trip. Most details, both big and small had been worked out well in advance. So for anybody reading this and planning on making the long haul, I have three words of advice for you. Plan, plan, plan.

Make lists, think about everywhere that you will be, where you want to be and how you want things to run. Be realistic about how much time everything is going to take and then add a little extra just in case. If you plan ahead and things run smoothly from the get-go, you'll be in the zone too. And hopefully you'll have time to do stuff you really want to remember like watching your bandmates give impromptu performances in front of iHop. Okay, maybe not.

The New York New Year

2008-01-06T05:04:00.000-05:00

I gigged this evening with the super girl fun band "The Mary Anns." The club was packed. I should have been happy. But I think I was having an off night. I didn't feel particularly social. The highlight of my evening, strangely enough was texting and chatting with a good friend on my cell phone from the backstage steps near the kitchen. There was the smell of french fry oil, blaring mariachi music, and the clatter of dishes while I tried to hear what she was saying. We didn't say anything particularly important or hit any weighty conversation topics. Nonetheless I felt ready to roll after we got off the phone.

We're gearing up to hit the road this week. I'm performing for the first time in New York which in itself shouldn't be that big of a deal but for some reason it is. First, I'm taking my entire band, secondly two people in the band have never been there and finally its NYC for goodness sake!

I'm excited. Its something akin to that nervousness on Christmas eve when I was nine years old. The anticipation, the worry that everything wouldn't turn out the way I expected or that all my dreams would come true.

Fortunately, I'm an optimist. Unfortunately, I'm also a realist. The trick is finding the balance between those two perspectives.

The Poor Unfashionable CD

2007-12-20T02:16:00.000-05:00

I am a member of a dying breed. A person who goes to the music store and purchases a CD. I was still in the process of putting out my CD a few months ago when a friend asked whether or not the record would be available for download on iTunes. I told her yes it would be, but why not just buy the CD. I wanted her to see all the artwork we had so carefully prepared. She responded that CD's take up too much room, that she has since mp3'd (a new word) all of her CDs and subsequently thrown them all out. She was so matter of fact about it, she had no idea she was breaking my heart.

To a musician that has just given birth essentially, to a new CD, the idea that someone would take the artwork and possibly the CD and throw it in the dustbin after digitizing it is, well, hard to fathom. Then again, I know the music industry is changing and the business model, the idea of the music's worth has changed.

Maybe my view is skewed being a musician, but the work involved with creating the record, the recording, the artwork, not to mention the sheer expense to make a CD, is immense. When I first started listening to music, my parents had dusty old vinyl LPs that were magical in their delicacy; they had organic artwork and gate-folded covers. I was told earnestly by my father to hold just the edges, touching the grooves would somehow diminish their worth. The artists were somehow larger than life on those covers. My siblings and I listened carefully and repeatedly to those precious stacks in our youth, unwittingly gaining yardsticks for every other record we would ever hear.

Even now, mention a Rickie Lee Jones song and I can tell you what album it came from and what the cover looked like. Its hard to believe the current generation of new Beatle fans will listen to the album Abbey Road and not take note of the fact that Paul McCartney is out of step with the rest of his compadres as they cross the road on the famous cover. For me, that is part of the mystique of that album.

I'm yearning for a return to this kind of thinking. When will the unfashionable CD be fashionable again?

I need therapy and a personal assistant

2007-12-11T03:50:00.000-05:00

I spent the better part of the weekend trying get a handle on my gig schedule for the first few months of the upcoming year. Being a working/touring musician requires a level of commitment that is difficult to explain to a non-crazy person.

Admittedly, some of the work isn't all that fun. Booking hotel rooms, plane tickets, and creating itineraries is not really my idea of a good time. Tracking down the bass player who ran off with the blond after the gig, that stuff is a pain in the ass.

But then there are the musical moments when I am nowhere near a guitar or piano. I love the conversations with my musician friends, comparing notes, listening to favorite records, each others stuff, sharing (stealing) ideas, going to shows and often sitting in rapt awe at an unknown band's quirky turn of phrase. I've had more quick dinners turn into long evenings exchanging gig horror stories or the secret behind a song.

And then there are the moments leading up to the song. I can always tell when a song is trying to climb out of me. Its like a sickness, a fever that I have to shake. I will spend hours, even days tweaking lyrics, changing chords, flipping through keyboard patches or switching guitars, laying down version after version of a song til I have a demo I can live with. Sick, I tell you.

Despite the lack of sleep and the growing number of callouses on my fingers, juggling a day gig, spending time with loved ones, trying to keep in touch with friends, and not let my house become a refuse heap requires the sort of love and admiration for the whole process that borders on lunacy. You have to love it. Thank goodness I love it.

All I want for Christmas is a 2" tape machine

2007-12-05T12:54:00.000-05:00

I have two problems this holiday season. One, I'm hoping Santa will bring me either an Ampex 2" tape machine which is exorbitantly expensive and two, I'm looking for other women who are recording nut jobs like me. Where are you guys?

I recorded my record with a friend of mine at she and her husband's studio, Limestone Vale in Delaware, Ohio. The recording studio is run in conjunction with Brian Lucey's Magic Garden Mastering operation. Brian is a demanding audiophile so his studio is chock full of high end analog audio gear. In the rack on the left is the awesome Tubetech tube compressor and at the bottom the Shadow Hills 8 channel tube pre. Just an amazing piece of gear. We did most of my vocals through a Korby mic with a 251 capsule in to the Shadow Hills. It had just the right balance of air and richness for my voice.

We recorded to 2" tape which is an anomaly in this day and age of cheap and plentiful digital recording. I haven't recorded to 2" tape since the mid-nineties when everyone was switching from analog tape to ADAT. Remember that? I have a ProTools setup in my home studio so recording to analog tape requires a bit more patience and preparation. There is a linearity to the process that many people new to the analog recording process might not take to very easily.

And to be honest, it took me a few days to get used to it again. I'm so used to having multiple takes and virtual tracks galore. But the beauty of analog recording is that there is an organic quality that has nothing to do with "magnetic distortion" or any other finely audible esoteric quality that analog studiophiles may be inclined to pontificate about. As a musician and performer in the analog studio, I have to work just a little harder, focus my artistic energy for this particular take because the result is always somehow more magical.

Thank goodness I just finished this record. I was thinking about what I'm going to do on the next one. It may very well be on analog again. Magic is addictive.

November in Columbus

2007-11-18T17:36:00.000-05:00

Almost Thanksgiving. Ordinarily I would be getting ready for the trek via plane or car to a relative's house in the coming week. But for some reason, the holiday gods are smiling upon Drew and me this year. We don't have to go anywhere. Parents and in-laws are all in other cities, hundreds of miles away and devoid of any expectation that we will make an appearance. Yaay!

I certainly hope I don't sound like an ingrate. I just need a break. The good news is my brothers and Drew's brother are coming to our house. We are debating hitting a restaurant somewhere around here for the big day. That is how lazy I'm feeling.

I've been listening to a record that I haven't heard for a very long time. Rickie Lee Jones 1979 self-titled debut. I've said it before and I guess I'll say it again. It is my desert island record. I listened to this record with one of my best friend's from high school eons ago. It was summer and hot. We had all the windows in the upstairs of his house open. It had been raining and there was an oppressiveness in the air. There was nothing to do but sit around and smoke and listen to music. He told me he had stolen this great record from his sister and we should listen to it. That day change my life. I have that record and Rickie Lee Jones to thank [blame?] for my addiction to making music. That record is the standard by which I judge all other records including my own. The songs, the quality of the recording. It is simply one of the best sounding and played records I've ever heard.

My record just got a great review in the Columbus Alive. You can read about it here. I'm taking a tiny break from gigging during the holiday season with just a few gigs before the onslaught in the New Year. Its going to be a busy 2008 for me.

We're starting the year with a CD Release in New York at Banjo Jim's. We're very excited about that show. Then we're headed back to California for a little adventure in the City of Angels. More details soon. Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Robert Nicolas ESQ RIP

2007-09-11T21:48:00.000-04:00

Today, I had to put my cat of 14 years, Bob to sleep. I've never liked the sound of that. It sounds like lying because, in fact, thats not what we're doing at all. Is it?

I got Bob from a friend in German Village in Columbus. I'd never met her and I was audtiioning her for a spot as a back-up singer in my band. On a side note, we ended up being life-long friends. That day, I went over there, sat on the floor in her little apartment when a tiny ball of white fur came out of nowhere and sank its needle-like teeth into my hand. I shook Bob off me like a mosquito. My friend said only a few words "He has a biting problem."

And so it went for 14 years, Bob got hit by a car, punctured a lung, shattered a leg, fell off the roof umpteen times, had a stroke, got lost in the 'hood, got trapped in the neighbors attic, ran will-nilly through the neighborhood dodging cars, the neighbors huge black german shepherd, other cats and kid next door. 14 years. That is a long time for a cat.

But I have to say, I am eternally grateful for having met him and being able to witness how special he was first-hand. Here's to you Bob.