.: Rock and Roll – In That Order :.
I’ve said it before in a couple different venues: I like the Arctic Monkeys. They’re a six month old story even in the mainstream media and have toured through my local market twice since then, so you can rest assured I’m not trying to out hip anyone with this announcement. I’m trying to illustrate a point about rock and roll.
The reason some people don’t like the Arctic Monkeys is that they’re just like any number of pre-existing bands. They are; I wouldn’t deny that. They play roughly like the Ramones, the lyrics are not that different from Sublime, they mix in reggae like the Clash and they look like nearly any post-millennial British rock act you can think of.
The difference between this wheat and the chaff is that the band a) never make me feel stupid for liking it, b) provide layers to explore on nearly every song and c) don’t compromise the sound to grab some low hanging fruit. They don’t reinvent the wheel or build a better mousetrap, they just rock. Every listen after the first just confirms that they rock because there is nothing between the band and you except the rocking.
Really, point to the bands that have accomplished this in the last ten years. I probably dig them, too. Rock and roll is a funny animal because it runs wild all over the place, but everyone tries to domesticate it and teach it to do tricks. How hard is it to, like the idiots from the movie Airheads, shout “rock and roll!” and move on to rocking? It really shouldn’t be that hard at all. Get your musically inclined friends together, write some not terrible three chord tunes, spend some time in rehearsal getting on the same beat and commence rocking.
It’s probably the fact that it seems so easy that bands feel pressure to separate themselves by adding 80’s pop new wave references or a tuba player. Really, the time is much better invested in writing better songs and rehearsing. I even like the Mooney Suzuki and their songs generally suck, but they play hard and sound like a fully functioning band, so they get the hall pass. You too could get the hall pass.
So here’s the formula. Feel free to copy, copy, copy, since I don’t care if every band on the planet took this same three step process to creating a sound. Remember that you are all unique like snowflakes and your uniqueness will not be suppressed because you failed to gimmick up the process or quote 15 influences in a three and a half minute pop song. Say what you have to say, rock how you think rock should sound and those who appreciate it will be your fans. Real fans. When you cheapen the process you cheapen the sentiment.
1) Find your basic instrumentation. If your best friend plays the French horn, bring him or her in. Make sure someone or something keeps the beat, because the first mistake bands make is having a crappy drummer when a metronome coupled with someone banging on a table for the fills is easily better than sloppy time keeping. Make sure one instrument is capable of carrying a solo or funneling your angst to my ears. If people can rock a sax (which looks pretty complicated to me – feel free to tell me it’s easier than it looks) you should be able to rock just about anything.
Instrumentation should follow what your band can play passably well, and aside from the two points above, everything else is about chemistry, not textures. If you feel like a band, you will sound like a band. Be dysfunctional if you must, but be around each other. If you have nine trumpeters that belong in your band, you will sound like you need nine trumpets as long as you all hit the beat when you are supposed to and work together. If you have eight and you add a ninth because you think it will sound cool, you will forever be the band that used nine trumpets as a failed gimmick.
2) Write songs that don’t suck. I know this sounds hard, but it’s really not. 4/4 time is always a good starting place. Watch School of Rock for a “how to” on putting your pain on paper without turning the process into a wankfest. Avoid self-pity and pomposity. Write one extra verse and cut your favorite, since that’s the one most likely to be over done.
Now repeat after me: A-B-A-B-C-A-B (or the less often used, but popular among Genesis fans, ABACAB). The A’s are the verses, the B’s are the chorus and the C (bridge) is the really good part (every song, as Chuck Klosterman once said, needs a really good part and science has proven it’s best played two-thirds of the way through the song). If you can’t write a bridge that’s worthwhile, just sing that chorus like you really mean it, maybe changing one of the words or holding the instruments to add depth. Save the first 100 songs for when you get fat and forget what rock and roll is. Bring your next 15 to rehearsal. Done.
Bonus tip: if you find you write terrible lyrics, pick a theme (Norse mythology, sixties pop icons, chicken recipes) and make up for bad lyrics with extra pace. Lyrics are often the extra something that makes a band worthwhile beyond the first listen, but let’s be honest and admit that isn’t always the case. Even bands that people claim to like for the lyrics (REM, Led Zeppelin, the Mighty Lemon Drops) sometimes write songs as if they bought half of the words on sale and filled in the rest Mad Libs-style.
3) Practice until your songs are utterly boring and you forgot what they were originally about. Practice until you hate everyone in your band and you can identify them by BO. Practice until a falling raindrop reminds you of the sustained F chord halfway through the bridge on “What my Mom Ate for Breakfast.”
Do not make the mistake of adding things to make it fun for you. There is limited demand for jam bands and Bonnaroo is already booked with acts that have put in way more practice than you. Add layers to the songs, but practice the layers. Make the songs rich, but rock the richness. Nothing replaces rehearsal. Sorry. If I put out a column without editing, you’d think I suck too. Trust me.
Really, that’s all. It takes time and work. You have to sacrifice much of your life for a moon shot at stardom, but the formula is undeniable. Stupid people are in great bands. Short, fat and ugly people are in great bands. Rich and poor, old and young, even drug addicts and school teachers are in great bands. You have no excuse for taking shortcuts or over thinking it. 1, 2, 3.
You must rock before you roll. If you accomplish all of this without getting too cynical, too ambivalent or breaking up, I promise you will be at least one guy’s favorite band for at least a week.
Of course if you want to get rich, be attractive and let someone else do all the work. Sorry, I meant to say that first.
_________________________________________________
.:On a Separate Note:.
I’m still on the “random” kick I started two weeks ago. That’s a pretty long stretch of randomness for a guy who typically likes to match the music to the situation. I won’t pretend I haven’t hit the skip button maybe 50 times in that period, but most of the time I’m grooving to what’s on. It’s the fourth stage in my personal five stage music cycle of growth and decay. I go through phases that have become increasingly familiar over the decades and someday I may choose to try to break the cycle, but I think it works for me. Everyone needs to be a little stupid about something, and this is mine.
Phase 1: Picking up a few things on my mind.
Usually this means I haven’t been to the record store in a while and I have a mental list of a few things I want either because I feel that hole in my collection (a compilation by an artist I’ve long liked by never bought, a soundtrack for a movie I saw on cable, a cassette replacement or something by that artist I’ve finally heard too much about without checking out) or there are a just a few new releases that are irrepressibly purchasable.
Phase 2: Drunk with success, buying too much.
After coming down off of the buzz from listening to the disks I was pretty sure I would like, I start buying way too much stuff, 10 disks at a time until it becomes evident that I over extended and I didn’t really need “the good” Kristen Hirsch solo disk, never mind walking out of the store with all of them without so much as hearing a track on the radio to judge its worthiness.
Phase 3: Playing catch up.
Feeling guilty about spending my daughter’s college education on plastic covered metal, I proceed to give every disk its due and try to find the deeper level on every single track. Not finding a deeper level on most of them, I vow that I will not waste my time on buying disks when my success rate is so pitiful.
Phase 4: Play everything.
This takes many forms including the random, the pulling disks out of storage, sorting my MP3s by “last played” and starting at the end. It’s the penance period. Most of the time the majority of it still sounds good, but occasionally I come back to the thought that I’ve spent more than ten thousand dollars on pure crap.
Phase 5: Finding the love again.
One of those disks will break the funk and I’ll start thinking that there’s a deep vein of gold for me to discover in the mine right next to the one I’m in. I’ll start reading about bands that influenced or followed whoever it is that is currently rocking my music world from my own archive. I’ll notice that that band will be touring or coming out with a new disk in the next month. The cycle begins anew.
The cycle has led me on jags that covered delta blues, bop, rap, alt. country, folk, soul, punk, classical piano, etc. I’ve been somewhat passionate about all of them. Not only does it keep fresh music in my life, but I can talk to just about anyone that cares about music and find common ground. I still have yet to get into opera or show tunes, but can I honestly rule them out?
I’ve always believed that having flaws are fine, but believing your flaws are fine is not. I am prepared to live with this one bit of folly in my life, though. It’s wasteful, but it serves a broader purpose and I don’t know how to extract it from my life without causing greater harm. My daughter might have to get a scholarship.
_________________________________________________
.:Reading is Fundamental:.
Ssquared (S^2 to friends) brags that he managed to clear out the crap right after I state for the record that I don’t know if I ever will. The man give me hope for a less cluttered future.
Must read of the week: Gloomchen went to see a show and thinks volume makes a difference in how enjoyable the music is. Hmmm. That sounds like something I’d say. Of course I’d say it in too many words and quote some philosopher about it, so save yourself the time and read her version.
Mathan gets literal about reasons why being deaf sucks (not so much with the rocks). Should it concern me that his tastes make more and more sense to me as time goes on? I’m going to look into that one and get back to you.
Goodfellas gets a shot at making the 50 list. If it wasn’t for the incorrect use of “dearth” in the third sentence, this collective review might have gotten a 50. That and the fact that I only agree with one of the reviewers.
I’m an East Coast Bias reader. Mr. Daniels does for Mets fandom what David Wright does for the Mets — makes Yankee fans jealous.
_________________________________________________
.:Beyond the Notes:.
For starters…
:::
I’m not doing news anymore. Five columns in and I’m taking a stand against the best-week-everification that has happened in this space to date. It’s not really me. Sorry if you were hoping for a bolder stand. I’m not really a muckraker. So for those just getting to know me, you can put me somewhere between “Best Week Ever” comedian and a muckraker.
:::
And finally…
My brother is a better karaoke singer than me. It’s been a while, but I think he could probably still take me to town on some Frank Sinatra or Neil Young. But one day, I will bring down the house with a moving and gender-politically charged version of “Midnight Train to Georgia” and I will retire forever king of the box and the mic. Or maybe I’ll do “Been Caught Stealing.” It’s hard to say.
