Status: Single
City: VICTORIA
State: Texas
Country: US
Signup Date: 6/2/2006
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Saturday, October 17, 2009
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Current mood:  blissful Category: Life
I don’t care much for politics. Politicians will do what politicians do. Our leaders will never satisfy everyone. Therefore, there will probably always be an element of disenchantment and a section of the populace that is disgruntled. Government has an important job to do but too many times personal agendas get in the way. I’m sure there are good politicians that exist somewhere. People who make promises they can and do keep. People who stand in for us when they say they will and make sure we have ample opportunity to enhance the quality of our lives. I think these good people are simply outnumbered by those who give themselves raises long before they think about making any decisions for us. Not hard to see is it? I’m disenchanted and disgruntled. I could rant on about what’s wrong and dole out my ways of fixing things but what politician would pay heed? I might have your attention for now but when you stop reading this you still have a life to live. When I’m finished typing I still have a life, to live. Wisdom’s exponential growth inflates the inner, silent part of our ego. Over time our confidence for what we believe in grows alongside it. Common sense intertwines with the two and we solve many problems in our own minds. All the while, life is getting more and more complicated. Many of our solutions sprout innumerable dendrites of extra considerations. Much like any bill introduced into congress. We the people look up the mountain to where we want our idea to have a voice. Our outer ego will either fly us there, or silence us for another day. Walk to the mailbox and send a letter off to that mountaintop and it will join every other voice of democracy that today is mixed in amongst anarchists, racists, agnostics, and any other groups detrimental to society. All are guaranteed a voice just as you are. To silence any with censorship or by force would stain our countries morality. Feel free, because you are, to say what you mean. Agree with anyone you agree with and let it be known why. Disagree and let the reason or reasons be known as well. Interaction between all constituents on any level is a right. Keeping it as civil as possible is a trick few seem eager to pull off. There are social wolves everywhere, waiting for us to open our mouths so they can bait us into a conflict disguised as a “debate”. All the while they lick their lips savoring the taste of our “displeasure” at their insinuations. Our reactions are their sustenance and the more foolish we look, the fatter their egos swell. The less emotion you show them however, the sooner they’ll roll up their tongues and move on to hunt elsewhere. Art is influenced by government as much as anything else, probably more so than anything else. Good or bad, the upper echelon of those who dictate our rights and freedoms, or lack thereof, leave their mark on society one way or another. Either in full public view, or hidden away, art is a statement about the world from the artists’ point of view. Volumes can be conveyed about one corner of the world or the entire world. Paintings, songs, books, poems, sculpture; all forms of art are voices that speak to us from within ourselves. The artist has put in the mental blood, sweat, and tears for us along with the physical acuities. All we need to do is devote a modicum of attention. A stroll thru a gallery, or a candle lit perusal away from prying eyes, and we can discover. Whether we live in a country where we are free to pursue art, or one in which we risk death by enjoying it, art will always be there for us. Even a simple memory of any form of art, is art. Were all forms of art destroyed tomorrow, I would still remember Beethoven’s 5th symphony. I would still remember the Mona Lisa’s smile. I would still remember the words to many of my favorite songs and, the melodies that go with them. You can take art away from the world in general but the way it affects people can never be rescinded after the fact. I don’t care much for politics but you know what, politicians are artists too. They speak with tongues of sugar, gold, silver, and thorns. They tell the truth, and they lie. They are respectable, and despicable. It takes true talent to pull off the job the way they do it. Politics, I must hate those bastions surely to some extent. I could easily regard them with apathy, however; I keep my eyes and ears on the arenas in which politicians spar. It is every artist’s duty to maintain a thorough knowledge of the laws that affect, art. The loss of freedom of expression probably hurts the most when it arrives as a surprise. An artist’s passion for her or his craft can be inspiring. It doesn’t matter if those individuals on the receiving end of the “artwork” are professional artists themselves or not, a pinch of insight into the mind of the artist can convey voluminous information. The curious crowd, most likely because they are much more attentive, will usually glean the most. They have a positive-ness to their madness. As fans they have the luxury of fixating onto the artists’ works and by association to those works, keeping an open mind to the little “extras” that might pop up. Good fans will settle into the comfort zone where their senses miss nothing “new”. The standard output by the artist is mentally ingested of course but, any little thing outside of that will set off the alarm so to speak. Tidbits of “got to know” information are assimilated and filed away in the “zone of mystique” as “eureka moments”. Few pleasures on earth can equal what a fan of any art form experiences. When those experiences are embellished with a touch of the creating artists’ private personality, the pleasure is multiplied. Any artist can tell their story about how they were “inspired”. Few have the mental acuity to realize that simpler things than those explanations can have a much heavier impact on their fans. Take one of my “heroes” for example. I love the music and lean in close when they hit the news or land in a magazine article, newspaper, or even a book. Years ago in an interview they extrapolated about being at a party. They were listening to music and they noticed that every time a guitar solo started, the crowd started talking louder amongst them selves. The artist was incensed by this behavior. He only wanted to hear the “Music”. The crowd treated it as background “filler”. When I read that paragraph I immediately became aware that I was not the only one in the world who felt this way. I was a teenager and I “lived” for music. It meant more than anything else could ever mean to me. Yet, at every party, on every road trip, and at the worst possible moment, people became vocal distractions. To me they made it so much harder to learn guitar because I couldn’t hear what was going on inside the music anymore. I was trapped in a world of beings that had little or no respect for audio excursions. Don’t quote me on any of my recollecting, it was a guitar magazine and the artist was none other than Eddie Van Halen. Idolization is a complex mental-play. The amount of information that is accumulated and organized can be astounding. There are those who memorize every word from movies, songs, poems, plays, every note from certain composers, every minute detail about the day to day life of someone famous, where they were when so and so did this or that, how many shades of fingernail polish they’ve ever worn in public, and the list goes on forever. There comes a fine line between “fan” and “stalker” that artist hope people will never cross. That hope is of course, wishful thinking. Normalcy rarely applies to the life of the famous. I’m glad I’m not famous. I have signed a very small number of autographs and as good as it feels, the sun still rose the next morning and bill collectors still kept calling. I have many idols but no fancies to be an idol. Flattery, yes, I had to go there. If you like the work of an artist you can copy what they do to a certain level of perfection and get paid to do it. You can make a living, put yourself thru college, or maybe even raise a family. Bars can’t always get the big names to come and perform so there is a rather large niche for that sort of thing. If on the other hand you can’t approach that certain “level of perfection”, banish the thought of kicking bars beer sales into the stratosphere. I don’t do “covers” because not only are they songs I did not write, but I have no desire to play anything “just like the song on the album”. I’m not that good of a musician as far as I’m concerned. There are a few songs that I have learned with former bands but my versions were always a bit different from what was on the album. I burned out fast on trying to learn the songs of successful artist. I never burned out on just writing songs with or without a band. Granted some artist want nothing more than their songs to be played by every one who can learn them, but let there be no doubt that there are plenty of artist who have no qualms about unleashing a volley of lawyers that will come on like a hurricane and leave nothing that can be rebuilt in their wake. Detractors abound in this world. They are the ones who stymie creative minds more than any government can. They are the sole voice that grab an artist by the shoulders too tightly and shake teeth out of skulls. They travel in packs as well as solo and their judgment is biased by their affiliation with the human race. They afflict many and the world is a lesser place to live, because of them. The creative process is something that can and should be enjoyed. The end results might not please the whole world, but on the off chance it might please even one person, justification is an attainable goal. One good word of criticism can silence a novel’s length of harsh words and the creative are most likely to have the patience to wait for it. We make our way thru life and at different times different people come and go. Some we want to hold onto forever but the truth of life is that nothing last forever. In some instances we try to hold on harder and end up destroying the lifestyle we are trying to build. Other times what we are trying so hard to retain becomes the thing that wreaks the bulk of the havoc. Any artist can level enumerable anecdotes they have had to endure. “Nobody likes that?” “That’ll never get you anywhere in life.” “What on earth made you write that?” “I don’t get it. I don’t like it either.” “Save us the torture and stick with dreaming.” “Honestly? (Insert any derogatory phrase here)” We run the gauntlet of critical attentions that attempt to slough off huge slabs of our souls. Our hearts bear the brunt of fist-like words and our minds re-wire to eventually absorb the damage. We contemplate all possible reasons for what we must endure and rarely get any concrete answer. Talent is subjective. I in no way consider myself to have any “talent”. If something I do is well received then sure, that makes me happy. But even if it is not, I can still be happy with the fact that I had fun doing it. Those who are the end recipients of an individual’s art become “impressed” by it. They form an opinion and, good or bad, they feel some motivation to share that opine. What irks me the most about such opinions is that I can easily see where some other person, trying their best to create something they believe in, can get discouraged by “detractors”. They may have some reason to keep these critics in their lives but they are denying themselves the true opportunity to shine and denying the world the best of what they are capable of producing. Accomplished or not, creating without any level of enjoyment is like stealing from your self. Commissioned artists have to have a joy for their craft too. Songs for movies, family portraits, original conceptual paintings, movie post production, there are as many situations as there are forms of art and paycheck producing or not, if enjoyment had no part then, to me at least, it was nowhere worth the effort. I watch album sales and downloads, hit counts and guestbook posts, comments and believe it or not, lots and lots of e-mails. The sales are the things I look at the least. I’m not getting any younger and the volume of my catalogue is what I enjoy watching grow. From 2004 to the present, eight albums of enjoyment have leapt from my mind and onto plastic. That does not include another body of work that is almost an albums worth that I have yet to properly record and release. Then there’s the material I’ve done as collaborations. It’s not a large body of work but each song is something I consider with pride. If it were not so much fun I’d be happy to sit behind my desk and slowly fade away from this life. As it is, I hope to keep the musical juice flowing for years to come. With artistic tastes as varied as mine it saddens me to no end when I see some one whose dreams are being stifled. It may be a simple, small, comment, but I know how words can hit. Even what can easily be dismissed as innocent rambling can deflate even the limpest of egos and the art that could have existed, can be silenced forever. Take care you critics, just because you don’t like it does not mean someone else will not. Style can make an artist stand out. Standing out can be done in a “sore thumb” kind of way, or in a “eureka” or “Nail-on-the-head” fashion. Some stand out with a slight vagueness while others are totally over the top. Of course there are many variances possible when something or someone begins to stand out. Great songs have been written that “stand out” far and above all other songs. Bob Dylans’ “All Along The Watchtower” is one. Bob had his “style” of doing it and his version, to me at least, is great. Along came Jimi Hendrix, and a bit of history was made. He did the song in his “style”. His version is great. U2 has done it as well, and their version is great. Many songs have been “covered” by many artists but few can actually entrench themselves into our memory. Each artist’s interpretation can take away from or add to the song in some way. Hendrix’s version painted a storyboard of crystal clear scenes in my mind. As it unfolded I saw the two horsemen in slow motion, approaching thru a windstorm complete with dead leaves and dust, all blowing sideways. Definitely, he added something. U2 did it a bit mellower but still added their undeniable touch of uniqueness. The words still powered my mental scenery. It’s hard to take any affect away from that song. “I don’t do covers”, I’ve stated before. I can say though, that some songs I hear leave me no choice other than to entertain my brain by trying to learn them. It just feels way too cool to play many of the parts I hear in my favorite tunes. The opening bars of Alice In Chains “Man In The Box”, Black Sabbath’s “The Mob Rules”, Iron Maiden’s “Stranger In A Strange Land”, Ratt’s “Lay It Down”, and “Way Cool Junior”, Dokken’s “In My Dreams”, and “Breaking The Chains”, Rhandy Rhodes’s “Dee”, “You Can’t Kill Rock And Roll”, and of course, “Crazy Train”, all of these and many more are the songs that caught my mind’s eye in some awesome way. Some I learned in their entirety, others I just learned bits and pieces that were the “coolest” to me. The first cover I ever did on guitar was Francis Scott Key’s “The Star Spangled Banner”. Yes I was young and impressionable when I saw Hendrix’s obituary on TV. They played a bit of that and years later I saw the Woodstock film. I learned it though, from Roy Clarks “Big Note Guitar Song Book”. I had to decipher the sheet music and it was a single note line rendition. The hook was set deep and I could hardly wait to pump it “out loud” thru a big amp. That was still a few years down the road though. I still enjoy my “freedom of expression” when I play it today. It and “Amazing Grace” are two tunes I think every hard rock guitarist likes to “lose their minds” in. Flattery is one thing. Doing the music just like the original is hard work. I have a certain respect for those musicians talented enough to put out a perfect sonic mirror copy of a hit song. I could never exercise that kind of discipline. I play guitar for “hard fun”. I’m a legend in my own mind who “just can’t find the sound”. Let me end this paragraph because I’m starting to write in KISS lyrics. (My deepest apologies to Peter Chris.) To modify a song by putting your own “spin” on it is a way of taking a chance to the extreme. There is no formula that dictates whether or not people will like what you’ve done to it. The most unlikely of versions might become a number one hit, or it might just as well be a “career ender”. Either way, the outcome will remain unknown until the world hears. Take any hit song, from any genre of music, and flop it over into the style of any other genre. Make it something as far away from the original genre as possible. Take a Lawrence Welk tune and do it like Ozzy Osborne. Take an old Van Halen tune and do it like Herbie Hancock would. Take Beethoven’s 5th and, well, you get the picture. In most cases, and if the original artist has an open mind, your “new-fangled” version will show them a side of their song they never knew existed. Weird Al took this to the best of all extremes with his entire career. There is a breed of artists who are so proficient with music that they can take a song and preserve its basic structure but come up with a whole different tune. The tempo and basic plot of all the chord changes and maybe even the key are the same, the words are different but just like the music, and they’re a sonic and cacophonous match to the original. A friend told me about this and says it works great and keeps lawyers away. (Hmmm?) I’m not musically inclined enough to do this but I am on the lookout for songs composed in such a way. “Style”, born with it or not, artists develop it. It may be one measure of one song that defines it and everything else is just “re-hash”. It can also be ever-apparent in everything they do. Every member of the “Rat Pack” had it. Jerry Lewis, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr. Frank Sinatra, and please, correct me for any I’ve left out I was just a kid in front of the television. Style captures our imaginations on a level all its own. We identify it quickly and our souls lift off for a spin around the farthest stars! The music stirs a storm in our heads and our feet stomp the ground into earthquakes. Roofs fly away and everyone present is “getting along”. Style, true style, knows no barriers.
10:08 PM
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