In Between Days

September 25th, 2007

“I’m a rock star. I’m not supposed to do dishes!”

These are strange, strenuous, and superlative days.

One minute finds me coordinating a roomful of musicians, the next. I’m marvelling at the stupendous dicing abilities of a new pairing knife.

‘Man, that’s the best knife ever!’ I think.

One minute finds me tossing back pints in a raucous downtown dive with Pete Yorn, the next, I’m getting misty eyed watching a four-year-old’s blissful yawn.

‘Aaaaaw,’ I think.

Or, there are moments like this one when — so distracted am I by the plane reservations, car services, vows, cuff links, collars, cues, seating arrangements, blogs posts, songs, videos, redesigns, relaunches, recallibrations and reruns — that I end up one subway stop too far in Astoria, Queens.

‘Ten days,’ I think.

Ten days. Which explains why my left eye is twitching, my excema is itching, and every song that comes on my iPod sounds customized for each melodramatic moment. And it explains why the tension between who I am and who I thought I’d be feels more palpable than ever.

It’s always been significant.

These days, I want more than credit for holding down my job, doing the laundry, wiping the counter, grocery shopping or anything more than drinking beer, smoking cigarettes, and writing songs. I want bonus points. I want gold stars. A plaque.

These days, I resist the suburban ideal ever as I jog towards it. I scoff at the suit as I trudge towards the corporate tower.  I roll my eyes at luxury condo ads in magazines my doorman sorts.

I am becoming the very thing I was rebelling against.

And yet… And yet…

And yet I’m not sure I was ever either of those things to begin with.

Maybe there is no rebellion. And maybe there isn’t anything to rebel against. Maybe — and I’m banking on this — maybe there’s a space in between.

That’s where I’m headed.

It’s Christmas Time (There’s No Need To Be Afraid)

September 25th, 2007

Band Aid’s “Do They Know It’s Christmas” was the right song at the right time.

I was a newly-minted teenager when Bob Geldof and Ultravox’s Midge Ure rounded up Paul Young, Phil Collins, Sting, Bono et all to record the first-and-definitive benefit single on behalf of African famine relief.

MTV was a nascent entity then too. It amplified and super-saturated my already Rolling Stone-distorted perception of rocknroll. Here was an awkward and flawed (they all did, after all, spend sufficient time on the couch — allbeit at The Ritz in Ibiza — smoking cigarettes and discussing their childhoods) group of singers being celebrated for the flaws and their singing! I had flaws. And I sang!

Moreover, my worldview was changing. At thirteen, I was allowed to take the bus to Kingof Prussia Mall or the train to Ardmore Square.

It was at a record store there that — lulled into blissful consumer submission by the all-star music video played on near-repeat — that I joyfully laid down my allowance for the vinyl 45.

As a song, Ure’s four minute Anglo-centric plea for empathy is an odd one. There is no refrain, per say, just a galloping synth beat adorned with tubular bells building towards a rousing, repetative finish.

Didn’t matter to me; I held constant vigile for the video, scampering into our mustard-colored TV room as soon as I heard those clanging bells.

Fast forward: December 23, 2006. I’m in my home studio brainstorming my annual online holiday single. ‘Hmm,’ I thought, ‘”Do They Know It’s Christmas” made for a genius encore at The Nadas’ Silent Night benefit concert in last year. Maybe I should call all of my New York City friends to record a version of our own.’

My watch read 11:23 pm. Christmas was mere hours away. Much as Casey, Chris or Jeff have my back,’ I thought, ‘There’s no way I’ll get ’em out on Christmas Eve.’

And so it is that I rallied some fifteen or so local singer/songwriters/musicians to record our version this weekend. The “Family Records Holiday Album” aggregates the ideas behind “A Very Special Christmas” and “Do They Know It’s Christmas.” Fifteen local singer/songwriter/bands have contributed one holiday track each, plus our version of the Band Aid single. A music video will do online pre-press for a December release and performance. The entire thing will benefit 826NYC, a youth literacy program.

Chris Abad, Casey Shea, Tony Maceli, Ryan Vaughn and I met up at Travis Harrison’s Serious Business Studios in the heart of SoHo (Spring & Lafayette) as a hard rain began to fall Saturday morning. A few hours and many cups of coffee later, we had our basic track (drums, bass, acoustic guitar and scratch vocals). Langhorn Stoneburner Shea and Hot Rocks hostess Jenny Piston showed up with DV cams to begin shooting the music video. Casey — due to depart for London with the rest of Sundown, laid down his vocal. “It’s Christmas time,” he sang flawlessly in one take, “There’s no need to be afraid.”

And we were off.

Attorney’s guitarist John Wlaysewski showed up with bandmate William Ryan George and nailed a nuanced-but-powerful guitar part. Then Wakey! Wakey! frontman Mike Grubbs showed up and — between bites of veggie burger and fries — nailed the now-famous, completely memorable hook. Less than six hours in, the basic recording was done. We left the studio two hours ahead of schedule as dusk fell on Manhattan.

I spent the bulk of Sunday morning watching the video over and over on You Tube trying to assign the right parts to the right people (knowing already that a) Casey had already played the part of Paul Young, and I was laying claim to Bono’s big line). Travis, Chris, and I re-assembled at noon. The chorus, as it were, began to trickle in one by one: Wynn Walent, Tarrah Reynolds, Kailen Garrity, Seth Kallen, Jeff Jacobson, Misty Boyce, William Ryan George and John Wlaysewski (The Attorneys), George & Jess Jezel (El Jezel), Wes Verhoeve (Undisputed Heavyweights), plus Mike and Gene Adam (Wakey! Wakey!). We rehearsed along with the track a half-dozen times, then began knocking out individual parts.

Later that afternoon, as we stood crowded around a single, omni-directional Neumann microphone drinking 20 ounce Budweissers, I laughed at Chris and Jenny (who have been staunch supporters from the start). “We did it!” I mouthed silently between “Feed the world!” and “Let them know it’s Christmas time!!!”

We did it.

And it sounds totally freakin’ bad ass.

Wait ’til you hear it.

Like a thirteen-year-old in a dusty record store, you’ll believe in blind optimism all over again.