8Sided Blog

the scene celebrates itself

duck box update

by // 2 Comments

This morning we watched ten baby ducks jump out of the duck box. When I got up before sunrise I noticed the mama duck was out of her box and quacking repeatedly while looking up at the hole. I knew something was up so we were ready and waiting. Not long after, we started hearing a chorus of faint chirps coming from within the box. And then:

Since we were ready we were able to film the big reveal. Caroline flexed her Kitten School skills and edited the video for all to see (above). We wanted to be quiet and hidden to not scare the ducks so we watched from the screen porch — that’s why there’s an annoying screen grid through most of this. But that doesn’t dampen the cuteness in the least.

Hitting Me Sideways

by // Leave a Comment

Mapping the Creator Economy → Online tools are aplenty. It’s impossible to keep up. To the rescue: Hugo Amsellem is doing his best to track various ”companies are building stand-alone tools to help creators create more and better content.” His article is an invaluable, bookmark-able resource, listing over 150 apps and sites that can help you monetize, build an audience, and manage your content business. Hugo wasn’t thinking of record labels and recording artists when he put this together, but there is a lot here for the music-minded. Side note: If you’re an artist manager, or want to be one, familiarizing yourself with all of these tools (and trying them out) is now part of your job. The most valuable managers will learn the differences between tools and platforms, knowing the ones that are the best fit for each represented artist. You do the research and make recommendations. It’s your artist’s job to use them and create.1And if you’re an artist without a manager, don’t stress or spend too much time on tools. Just quickly sample what’s available and trust your first impressions when choosing.

——————

Unendurable Line → Here’s a brilliant short film that illustrates the “thresholds hidden in everyday life” and “how things change from A to B when a parameter exceeds a certain value.” The examples are seemingly mundane, but tension is amplified by charting the distance to the threshold, accompanied by dramatic choral music. It’s brilliant, and more of these videos from Design Ah! (a Japanese educational show that explores different types of creative thinking for viewers of all ages) are available here. (h/t Kottke)

——————

Body Meπa – The Work Is Slow → Body Meπa named themselves after an Ornette Coleman album (though Coleman’s lacks the crafty pi sign). They create an occasionally-at-odds-with-itself rumble that isn’t too far off (at least conceptually) from what Coleman was transmitting on that album. Music critic Sasha Frere-Jones, Grey McMurray, Melvin Gibbs, and Greg Fox handle a standard guitar-guitar-bass-drums line-up but, in righteous post-punk fashion, Body Meπa sonically exiles standards. The Work Is Slow is Body Meπa’s new album, comprised of mesmerizing riffage, cometary improvisations, and a sharp rhythm section guiding the reins. There’s no nonsense to the production (in the stereo field, Sasha is credited with “right guitar” while Grey wields the one leaning to the left), but the variety of squeals, squalls, and cyclical melodic phrasings bends the album away from simplicity. And you kinda want to see just what is happening to these guitars. A good intro track is “Money Tree” with its opening eterna-looped guitar and double bass action (I think — which would be a call-back to Sasha’s dual-bassed former band Ui), calmly landing in Tortoise territory. Body Meπa’s album has earned many listens in my lockdown space, a noble achievement in a time when new music temptations are relentlessly hitting me sideways. As for the title The Work Is Slow, Sasha had this to say in an installment of his essential email newsletter: “I use ‘the work’ as a way of describing a daily practice of spiritual health and emotional sobriety, but you may have another discipline that fits the bill.” A limited number of bumper stickers with the phrase are available.

Taking Back Our Fuel

by // Leave a Comment

It’s necessary to imagine utopias and strive to reach them. Previously I wrote about the musical expression of a world I’d like to try and accomplishing change by aiming for a shared paradise. Dreaming big is essential to creating something better. Even dystopian movies and stories are driven by a character’s tenacious hope — Deckard imagined a better life was possible if he ran away with Rachael, after all.

It’s not fun learning about the commodification of our attention, but I enjoy it when Jaron Lanier talks about this. You see, he accompanies his critique with ambitious and hopeful solutions. Utopian solutions.

The unrestricted mining of our lifestyles and personalities as vendible data is serious. And many believe there’s no way to put that genie back in the bottle — that it’s an inevitable PK-Dickian future. But Jaron proposes a new model that’s lofty, aspirational, and possibly ridiculous. But putting it out there — having the conversation — bends us closer to a world where we want to live. Watch the video, and let’s have a conversation.

So look, here’s the thing. This whole shadow economy that runs our world now and concentrates all the wealth and reduces your future would not be possible without the data that’s coming from you and your friends. You are the fuel for it. […]

When you realize that data is the new oil, when you realize that this thing being taken from you that you don’t think about is the future economic value — is your future economic value {and} power — all of the sudden, I hope you can see you are giving away everything in exchange for almost nothing.

We need to affirmatively, positively invent a different system that doesn’t screw everybody up in the first place. And, you know what? I think we have a solution. I think we have charted a way out of this mess. And I really can’t wait to tell you about it.

Listening to Jaron speak is fun despite some dour subjects. He’s engaging and lucid in his arguments, even if I don’t agree with all of them. Listen to this conversation with Ezra Klein on the subjects of social media and how to change the internet.

Energy Fools the Magician

by // Leave a Comment

I ran across this delightful short film from 2008 promoting the Brian Eno/David Byrne collaboration Everything That Happens Will Happen Today:

From the video, a good quote from Byrne:

Adding little bits or changing your expectations is what keeps music really interesting. Because when you listen to music you can generally tell what’s coming, but then when you get surprised by what actually does come then — if it’s not too surprising — it’s kind of pleasurable.

I appreciate the caveat “not too surprising!” But, yes, unexpected elements are often responsible for pushing a song into the ‘special’ zone. These elements can be lyrical, a change of chords or dynamics, unannounced instrumentation, or anything else that comes to mind. And they don’t have to be in-your-face — subtlety is powerful.

The bass line in The Feelies’ “Slow Down” comes to mind. After playing one note for 2:19 of the song the bass unexpectedly switches to a second note. On paper, this seems insignificant, but in the context of the song, it’s a special moment. I get those song tingles everything I hear it — one of my favorite musical subtleties.

You can see Brian Eno reacting to the unexpected elements placed within Everything That Happens Will Happen Today. Check him out at 6:05. It’s fun and reassuring to see Eno get excited about the music he’s worked on, especially after all these years. He seems self-aware of his enthusiasm a few seconds later, pulling back a bit.

And then check out Eno at 6:50. What a riot. I asked Twitter to make a GIF for me, and David Wahl came through with this piece of magic:

https://twitter.com/zoomar/status/1173945954724007937

One last note (and timestamp) on this video. If the amount of clutter in your home studio has you feeling down check out (what I assume is) David Byrne’s workspace at 4:23. The ‘80s Trimline telephone is a nice touch.

He Provides the Soundtrack, We Make the Movie

by // Leave a Comment

Be sure to check out this mini-documentary from Mixmag on the enigmatic Detroit producer Moodymann. I love his vision for his city, his ruminations on record shops, and how the staff at Archer Record Pressing warmly welcomes him. But mostly I love this, said to Gilles Peterson:

We went to the club to get down and dance. Everybody knew the DJ and we didn’t sit there and look at the DJ. He provided the music … we was more into the room. He provides the soundtrack, we make the movie. Well, nowadays everybody just stands there and looks at the DJ. It’s not like that’s Prince up there performing live. That’s the fucking DJ.

I got into DJ’ing via punk rock. That may seem like a non-obvious association, but hear me out. What I liked about underground punk rock was that the band wasn’t the star — the band was merely the facilitator, and everyone in the club was on an equal level. We were all part of the show, and together we made it memorable.

There was a similar feeling in underground dance music when I started DJ’ing. It was fine — even preferable — if the DJ was in the dark or behind a wall looking through a slit.1Many clubs in the early ’90s had ‘the slit.’ I admit that I hated this at first as it seemed like a (literal) wall between the DJ and the audience. But I’ve grown nostalgic for a time when the nature of the booth implied that the music was the true star of the show. We were there to come together, every person as necessary to this party as the next, rejoicing in the feeling of the music. That vibe, combined with the fiercely independent distribution and economy of underground dance music, was, to me, a new kind of punk rock.

I’m not shaking my fist at a cloud or feeling like things are worse or better than ‘back in my day.’ But it’s different. And I feel Moodymann’s frustration here. A couple of decades ago the role of DJs changed, elevated to stars as punk rock bands eventually were. And more and more it’s a DJ’s responsibility to be the movie. When that happens, who’s the soundtrack really for?

Related: On the Music Tectonics podcast The Verge’s Dani Deahl mentions, with trepidation, a new AI engine that selects, programs, and mixes music from a DJ’s predetermined selection. That way the DJ can focus on ‘performance’ rather than pesky details like queuing up and beat-matching songs. Canned performance is nothing new — the draw of many DJs and music artists is a cult-of-personality anyway — but the thought of such an app has me looking testily toward the sky.

Choosing, Not Chosen

by // 1 Comment

Here’s an informative video that inspired a spirited conversation in my household:

I can understand the overwhelming temptation to appease and filter for THE ALGORITHM when you’re making a living off your YouTube and online efforts. But there’s a loss of voice, akin to the loss of agency that casual listening creates. Rather than choosing we’re being chosen.

There’s an SEO plug-in installed on my blog, and it tells me that I should optimize my titles and my content for traffic-catching metrics. I was paying attention to its demands for a while, changing snappy short titles to longer (less fun) ones that complied with SEO-recommended character limits. I was told to insert keywords into the content and always attach eye-catching featured images (I was never good at that aspect). I’d get stressed out when the plug-in told me that I wasn’t adhering to the internet’s mysterious ordinances.

But, here’s the thing: there are many blogs and newsletters that I love, and none of these follow the rules. Some of these authors have a voice that flies in the face of these rules — one-word titles, blog posts with only a few sentences, the minimalist of minimal site layouts. I frequent these outlets for the voice of the author, not any click-worthy title or high search rank. I fear that if we all follow the SEO or algorithmic guidelines, then these voices would disappear. Pleasing the SEO computer is trying to please everyone, and we all know the cliché about what happens when you try to please everyone. But it’s more than ending up not pleasing anybody — it’s about not connecting with your people, to not have a flag on the map of your territory, to be invisible from your tribe.

There are those who are going for mass and, according to their goals, choose to follow the rules. That’s cool. Derek Muller, in the video above, is doing so grudgingly but he’s in the machine where 5 million vs. 10 million views have a direct impact on his project’s budget. Veritasium is a channel with — at the least — staff and travel requirements, so there’s a good reason to keep the views and funding high.1And it’s a well-done science channel, worth your subscription in my opinion. But my needs — and the needs of the bloggers and channels I follow — are different. We’re looking for that longterm connection and an audience that’s on board because of our way of saying things. It’s not that Derek doesn’t want that — it’s evident from his video that his voice and point of view are essential and he’s struggling with maintaining these — but the success of his platform is affected by more important things. On the other hand, at this point, I measure my success by people enjoying what I do and, to paraphrase Seth Godin, missing me when I’ve gone quiet.

I’m thinking about the direction of this blog all of the time. I change my mind about it constantly. But what always sticks is that I want it to be fun for you and — most importantly, if I’m honest — fun for me. I’m using this to find my people, to have conversations, and make those connections. And I’m using it to find potential friends, collaborators, clients, and employers. An SEO plug-in’s suggestions won’t be much help there. I see these imposed guidelines as a detriment and I’m happy to resist. So expect the blog to get more personal, more specialized, and obtuse — my private-made-public playground. No holding back the freak flag.

The Global Reach of Afrobeats

by // Leave a Comment

Here’s a fascinating documentary video from Quartz about the Nigerian phenomenon of afrobeats and how it’s influencing musical trends worldwide:

Musical movements start in a city or territory (hip hop = The Bronx, grunge = Seattle, techno = Detroit/Chicago, etc), encouraged by a scene that is mutually supportive and feeding off itself. Afrobeats is interesting as its spread is energized by a Nigerian diaspora — ex-pats enthusiastically supporting the scene from other countries. As you see in the video, the most influential afrobeats radio show is based in London, after all — not Nigeria.

Musical movements now are subtle, flavoring existing styles rather than replacing them. This won’t satisfy those hoping for the sudden arrival of a radical new genre, but it is evidence of music trends shifting in a constant, globalized state of flux.

🔗→ Quartz Obsession: Afrobeats

Tom Waits and Imitation in Advertising

by // Leave a Comment

A couple of days ago I examined the “Blurred Lines” decision, potentially allowing lawsuits against artists who acknowledge and transmit their influences ‘too much.’ I find this precedent dangerous, but it also got me thinking about the line between influence and intentional mimicry. There are many examples of music made to sound just like another artist purely to capitalize on the identity or success of that artist. The advertising world can be especially naughty in this practice. Recently, Eminem won a case against a New Zealand agency that used an intentional copy of “Lose Yourself” in a political advert. Licensed from a music library (which is a whole other topic), the soundalike track was even titled “Eminem Esque.” There’s no question of the intention there.

Tom Waits has a particularly tough time with imitation. I suppose it’s the price to pay for being such a distinctive, one-of-a-kind figure. Today I Found Out just released a video on Waits’ battles with advertisers and, though I’ve followed the Fritolay fracas, there’s a bit in here I didn’t know. I didn’t realize Fritolay had the nerve to have the soundalike sing a Tom Waits song in the ad (I am assuming Waits had an approval clause in his contract that didn’t allow his label to license the original recording outright). And, even more curious, I didn’t know that, despite Waits’ high profile victory over Fritolay, agencies continued to mimic his voice in ads, creating a legal whack-a-mole for the frustrated singer.

I admit that I don’t understand Tom Waits’ lawsuit over his songs being used in a horse circus, as mentioned near the end of the video. A ’horse circus’ sounds like the most Tom Waits thing ever. There must be something more to that. A compulsory public performance license should allow any of his songs to play in the venue, right? My guess is it was more about how the show was promoted, with an implication of Waits’ endorsement or involvement, rather than the actual musical content.

I’m also thinking about artists that refuse to have their music used in advertising. It’s amusing to explain to younger songwriters that there was a time — not that long ago! — when it seemed the majority of artists wouldn’t allow their songs used in ads. Mindsets have certainly changed, and you’ll get no judgment from me as far where you might lean. But there is something admirable about Waits’ position, though he’s able to earn income from a revered catalog and multiple vocations. I know the Beastie Boys are advertising hold-outs, too (and have had their own headaches for holding this line). Who else is left? And except for that handful of idealistic punk rockers, are there any newer artists or not established (i.e., well-to-do) artists that are also non-starters with advertising music?

Decoding a Pocket Symphony

by // Leave a Comment

Posted by the Polyphonic YouTube channel, this video essay illustrates all the remarkable things that happen in the three minutes and thirty-nine seconds that comprise The Beach Boys’ “Good Vibrations.” It is remarkable when the details get laid out: the convention-defying sections of the song, the ingenious chord combinations, the metamorphosing moods and transitions, even how the deceptively simple lyrics reveal a deeper meaning. “Good Vibrations” is indeed a “pocket symphony.”

 

Wikipedia:

The making of “Good Vibrations” was unprecedented for any kind of recording, with a total production cost estimated between $50,000 and $75,000 (equivalent to $370,000 and $550,000 in 2016). Building upon the multi-layered approach he had formulated with Pet Sounds, Wilson recorded the song in different sections at four Hollywood studios from February to September 1966, resulting in a cut-up mosaic of several musical episodes marked by disjunctive key and modal shifts. It contained previously untried mixes of instruments, including jaw harp and Electro-Theremin, and it was the first pop hit to have a cello playing juddering rhythms.

Its title derived from Wilson’s fascination with cosmic vibrations, after his mother once told him as a child that dogs sometimes bark at people in response to their “bad vibrations”. He used the concept to suggest extrasensory perception, while Love’s lyrics were inspired by the Flower Power movement that was then burgeoning in Southern California.


The instrument that steals the show in “Good Vibrations” is more often than not mistakenly referred to as a theremin. Kudos to Polyphonic for initially calling the instrument on the recording by its actual name: the Electro-Theremin. He gets it wrong the second time around, though.

From an article about this instrument via NPR:

… in the 1950s, trombonist Paul Tanner and an amateur inventor named Bob Whitsell made an instrument that made sounds similar to Leon Theremin’s creation, but made it a lot simpler for non-experts to hit specific notes and control the volume.

Tanner’s instrument — like the theremin — was used in science fiction films and a very popular television show from the early 1960s called My Favorite Martian. Tanner featured it on his 1958 album, Music for Heavenly Bodies. The few people who bought The Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds when it came out in May of 1966 would have heard Tanner’s instrument on the song “I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times.” But in the autumn of that year, every American teenager heard that weird sci-fi sound on every AM pop radio station, when Paul Tanner performed his Electro-Theremin with The Beach Boys on “Good Vibrations.”


One more observation: near the end of the video I found myself thinking, “Wow, Brian Wilson did look exactly like Paul Dano.” Then I realized that was Paul Dano. Sneaky.