Sunday, February 25, 2007
Went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees....
I made a life changing decision recently.
Some are glad, some have expressed shock. A few have been dismayed and disappointed. It was a difficult decision, but one that had to be made.
I quote Elvis, "It's now or never."
Some are glad, some have expressed shock. A few have been dismayed and disappointed. It was a difficult decision, but one that had to be made.
I quote Elvis, "It's now or never."
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Requiem for an online magazine
Let this post be in memory of Uberture, woefully forgotten and languishing in the middle of 2006.
I had written 3 articles for them, being the cynical, self-deprecating voice for old-school music in what was otherwise an attempt to barge into the "cool" crowd. How on earth I got that gig is still beyond me, but it did hone my writing skills somewhat.
Anyway, here is the last one I wrote for them that didn't get published. It was supposed to fit in with an emotional theme of some sort, but that doesn't quite matter anymore.
***
Music and human emotions share a close, if somewhat abstract relationship. Not in a direct sense like how some people get all weepy watching, well, weepy Taiwanese dramas or suddenly get the urge to stand right on the bow of a Star Cruise liner after watching Titanic for the 15th time running.
And definitely not in a ridiculously long fringe with eye-shadow kind of way.
Some say its about establishing a sort of emotional link between the performer and the audience, while others say its about telling stories that the listeners can relate to. Those inclined to go even deeper might say that music cannot exist without emotion and vice versa, though I can surely point out more than a few examples to argue against the former.
I’ll leave the nitty gritty of that to the musicologists and critics, but one thing I’ll put my money on is that guitar players have some of the most emotional-looking faces.
BB King is probably one of the more widely-known blues names in the mainstream, thanks to collaborations with U2, Diana Krall and the like. When he squeezes out a high note way up on the neck of his trusty guitar Lucille, he likens the look on his face to that of “sucking on lemons”. I don’t know how many lemons he took to get that look, but it works for him.
The late Stevie Ray Vaughn, better known as SRV, probably defined the essence of looking like a hot shot guitar slinger. Flamboyant shirt with cowboy hat and boots, beating up on an already beat-up Stratocaster and shooting off supercharged blues licks. That and alternating between a look of Zen-like transcendence and a totally scrunched-up look, as though he were trying to squeeze his whole face into his nostrils.
There are countless other examples, like Keith Richards doing his pursed lips, drugged-out eyes look (with or without guitar), Santana’s furrowed brows and twitching moustache or Jimmy Page pouting his lips through his curly mop while trying to heft a double-necked Gibson SG. All classic rock moments, captured for posterity on photographs for adoring fans and rocker wannabes.
On top of learning the licks and songs, I’ve been trying to cop some of those looks too. I’ve put together a mental composite sketch of my “emotional guitar moment” face, of me with my eyes closed, facing upwards with a spotlight shining down, as though I were looking up to the heavens for musical nirvana while my guitar gently weeps. Another one would be with me looking down beyond my guitar, a face of absolute concentration with drops of sweat running down the side of my forehead popping with veins, while channeling forth the musical equivalent of a raging tornado from my fingertips.
Unfortunately, photographic evidence brought me back down to earth rather abruptly. The look on my face was less “emotional guitar moment” than “confused / spaced-out moment”. My eyes tend to be glued to my fingers with the look of desperation that comes from not knowing what to do next, as though I were facing an angry girlfriend and trying to figure out if today were a birthday, anniversary or just another one of those days. Add to that a half-open mouth that anyone can lip-read as a “Huh?”, and you have a recipe for rock-image disaster.
Well truth be told, there ARE times onstage when I’m confused (either by someone else, bad sound or plain old senior citizen moment) and when I’m spaced-out (playing songs I’ve done or heard too many times, looking for eye-candy in the audience), but other times there’s another reason why I don’t look emotional enough to be a rock star.
I’m having too much fun.
Yeap, enough fun to have a silly grin plastered on my face. There are plenty of reasons for that, ranging from getting into a happening kick-ass groove with the rest of the band to catching a major goof-up or committing one. Lots of reasons to smile and laugh if you’re playing the right songs with the right people. Come to think of it, the wrong songs with the wrong people would make for an even bigger giggle, but that’s another story altogether.
So what’s to be done? Cheesy grins don’t make for a very emotional-looking rock image. For the life of me I don’t want to imagine what it’d look like if Jimi Hendrix were smiling from ear to ear for the hippies at Woodstock in the middle of a tortured rendition of “Star Spangled Banner” or if Angus Young looked like a kid with candy while churning out “Highway to Hell”. Slash wouldn’t look as cool in his top hat if he wore a silly grin, which is a silly thing to do anyway for someone who smokes while playing bare-bodied. Even if the ZZ Top guys smiled I don’t think anyone could see it through their trademark beards.
Since I’m already beyond “emotional guitar moments” and in the realm of “tak rock lah brudder”, I’ll just do it like Elton John (no, not that way).
Keep smiling.
I had written 3 articles for them, being the cynical, self-deprecating voice for old-school music in what was otherwise an attempt to barge into the "cool" crowd. How on earth I got that gig is still beyond me, but it did hone my writing skills somewhat.
Anyway, here is the last one I wrote for them that didn't get published. It was supposed to fit in with an emotional theme of some sort, but that doesn't quite matter anymore.
***
Music and human emotions share a close, if somewhat abstract relationship. Not in a direct sense like how some people get all weepy watching, well, weepy Taiwanese dramas or suddenly get the urge to stand right on the bow of a Star Cruise liner after watching Titanic for the 15th time running.
And definitely not in a ridiculously long fringe with eye-shadow kind of way.
Some say its about establishing a sort of emotional link between the performer and the audience, while others say its about telling stories that the listeners can relate to. Those inclined to go even deeper might say that music cannot exist without emotion and vice versa, though I can surely point out more than a few examples to argue against the former.
I’ll leave the nitty gritty of that to the musicologists and critics, but one thing I’ll put my money on is that guitar players have some of the most emotional-looking faces.
BB King is probably one of the more widely-known blues names in the mainstream, thanks to collaborations with U2, Diana Krall and the like. When he squeezes out a high note way up on the neck of his trusty guitar Lucille, he likens the look on his face to that of “sucking on lemons”. I don’t know how many lemons he took to get that look, but it works for him.
The late Stevie Ray Vaughn, better known as SRV, probably defined the essence of looking like a hot shot guitar slinger. Flamboyant shirt with cowboy hat and boots, beating up on an already beat-up Stratocaster and shooting off supercharged blues licks. That and alternating between a look of Zen-like transcendence and a totally scrunched-up look, as though he were trying to squeeze his whole face into his nostrils.
There are countless other examples, like Keith Richards doing his pursed lips, drugged-out eyes look (with or without guitar), Santana’s furrowed brows and twitching moustache or Jimmy Page pouting his lips through his curly mop while trying to heft a double-necked Gibson SG. All classic rock moments, captured for posterity on photographs for adoring fans and rocker wannabes.
On top of learning the licks and songs, I’ve been trying to cop some of those looks too. I’ve put together a mental composite sketch of my “emotional guitar moment” face, of me with my eyes closed, facing upwards with a spotlight shining down, as though I were looking up to the heavens for musical nirvana while my guitar gently weeps. Another one would be with me looking down beyond my guitar, a face of absolute concentration with drops of sweat running down the side of my forehead popping with veins, while channeling forth the musical equivalent of a raging tornado from my fingertips.
Unfortunately, photographic evidence brought me back down to earth rather abruptly. The look on my face was less “emotional guitar moment” than “confused / spaced-out moment”. My eyes tend to be glued to my fingers with the look of desperation that comes from not knowing what to do next, as though I were facing an angry girlfriend and trying to figure out if today were a birthday, anniversary or just another one of those days. Add to that a half-open mouth that anyone can lip-read as a “Huh?”, and you have a recipe for rock-image disaster.
Well truth be told, there ARE times onstage when I’m confused (either by someone else, bad sound or plain old senior citizen moment) and when I’m spaced-out (playing songs I’ve done or heard too many times, looking for eye-candy in the audience), but other times there’s another reason why I don’t look emotional enough to be a rock star.
I’m having too much fun.
Yeap, enough fun to have a silly grin plastered on my face. There are plenty of reasons for that, ranging from getting into a happening kick-ass groove with the rest of the band to catching a major goof-up or committing one. Lots of reasons to smile and laugh if you’re playing the right songs with the right people. Come to think of it, the wrong songs with the wrong people would make for an even bigger giggle, but that’s another story altogether.
So what’s to be done? Cheesy grins don’t make for a very emotional-looking rock image. For the life of me I don’t want to imagine what it’d look like if Jimi Hendrix were smiling from ear to ear for the hippies at Woodstock in the middle of a tortured rendition of “Star Spangled Banner” or if Angus Young looked like a kid with candy while churning out “Highway to Hell”. Slash wouldn’t look as cool in his top hat if he wore a silly grin, which is a silly thing to do anyway for someone who smokes while playing bare-bodied. Even if the ZZ Top guys smiled I don’t think anyone could see it through their trademark beards.
Since I’m already beyond “emotional guitar moments” and in the realm of “tak rock lah brudder”, I’ll just do it like Elton John (no, not that way).
Keep smiling.
