Music Could Provide The Light You Cannot Resist
It was spring. Everything was in bloom. The pavement was slick from an overnight rain.
The bus stop on the corner of Spencer and Fairfield Roads was crowded with middle schoolers. Including me: a tall, bespectacled and braced ninth grader in a blue Land’s End oxford button-down, Levis 501s, and purple Converse All-Star high tops.
This day found me with a new cassette in my cobalt-blue Sanyo stereo tape player: R.E.M.’s “Reckoning.” I pressed the big, black “play” button and in three minutes of staccato snare fills, ska-influenced (but oddly-arpeggiated) verses and layered, nonsensical-but-melodic choruses, changed my life forever.
Twenty-two years later, just a few dozen feet from the Madison Square Garden stage, R.E.M. began the song again. And as I stood there smiling and singing along in full-voice, I considered just how deeply I’ve been affected by the band.
Just 24-hours prior, a first-timer at my “The Invention Of Everything Else” CD Release had commented, “I didn’t realize you sang with a southern twang.”
“Yeah, I’m not really sure where that came from,” I replied. “Probably Michael Stipe.”
R.E.M. not only broke me from my Duran Duran and Phil Collins stupor, they led me to a pile of artists from whom they’d borrowed, collaborated and conspired: massive acts like The Velvet Underground, X, and Wire, local faves like Pylon, Love Tractor, and Guadalcanal Diary, and collaborators The Replacements, Billy Bragg and Uncle Tupelo.
For a period there (have a listen to “Bloom” or “Out Of Your Head,” if you dare), I tried to write like Stipe, and craft harmonies like Mike Mills and Bill Berry. Stipe, or course, tends towards the obscure and non-linear. Mills and Berry tend towards backup vocals that don’t just mirror the lyrics, but augment them with new phrases.
Take “Harborcoat,” for example. “It’s my harborcoat,” Stipe sings. “Can’t go outside without it.” Berry, meanwhile, sings “Harborcoat is on.” And God knows what Mills is saying at any point during the song (including the verses). But it doesn’t matter. It all comes together beautifully.
I think I’ve pretty consistently failed at both the esoteric lyric and counter-lyric harmony, but it’s an aesthetic I value, one that trickles into every song I write. The last song on “Invention,” “Chasing Something,” isn’t terribly logical. Even Abbi asked, “What does ‘Drowning something real / Fumbling for to feel’ mean?” I dunno. It’s my “Daylsleeper,” my “Nightswimming.” It’s nostalgia and loss and regret rolled up in one pretty, major-key package. It’s nothing, and everything, all at once.
Like Stipe’s lyrics, Peter Buck’s guitar playing continues to inspire mine. While recording “Invention” few months ago, I hummed the guitar solo to Chris Abad.
“That’s not a solo,” he said, “That’s a part.”
And he’s probably right. Buck’s not known for his incendiary solos. He’s known for his right hand. That’s what’s picking out all those chords, and what makes everything shimmer and chime. Listen to the verses of “Giving Up The Ghost.” That’s exactly what I asked Chris to replicate. To me, those open chords are what give songs breath.
When it comes to the bridge, where most solos show up, Buck usually just plays a few new notes, all derived from the root chord, and all simple. He edges things just a few inches to the left. Nothing major. Nothing shocking. But — partnered with layered vocals, keyboards and percussion (shakers, tambourines, hand drums) — the song is transported. We slide into the last verse before the big finish.
R.E.M. didn’t just influence my music, though, they offered me my first and best art appreciation courses. Take a look at the cover of R.E.M.’s “Green,” then my “Bloom. Look familiar? Take a look at “Murmur,” then check out my “Out Of Your Head.” The band’s aesthetic has always been slightly askew, out-of-focus, and left-of-center. They would never put themselves on an album cover. And when they did (see the recent “Live” release, another thing they’d “never” do), it was done artfully. (And when they did, I did.)
R.E.M. concerts favored slow-motion 16mm films of swimming swimming when pyro was in vogue. Even now, as lip-synced, click-tracked, choreographed spectacle owns the day, the band performs with little more than their equipment.
More than just music, though, the band — especially Stipe — helped shape my entire world view. That resonance, and the band’s prescience, was entirely evident to me at their MSG show.
I wasn’t much for “Ignoreland” when it hit the b-side of the band’s 1992 LP, “Automatic For The People.” It’s anti-Bush tirade struck me a linear and sophomoric. Sixteen-years-later, though, the conceit bears out. If “the information nation took their clues from all the sound-bite gluttons” then, what the hell are we doing now? We’ve got a war on two fronts, four dollar gas, and an earth wrecking hotter summers and bigger storms on us, and we’re watching “American Gladiators” (again!) and worrying about who Jennifer Anniston’s dating.
So when the band performed the song again — denser, thicker and more propellant now — in front of swirling, hypnotic black-and-white, “Dr. Strangelove” graphics, then jumped straight into “Man-Sized Wreath,” I had to agree. I’d have thought that by now we’d be ready to proceed too.
Even their most crass, simplistic hit, “It’s The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)” (from which, gratefully, the MSG show was spared) spells it out: these are ends days, people. Watch you reality TV and gobble your soma if you must, but we’re soldiering on. We are young despite the years. We are hope despite the times.
Which is, perhaps, where R.E.M. and I collide. And, not surprisingly, where the band left us at Madison Square Garden.
“Let’s begin again,” Stipe sang in the encore. “The finest example is you.”
Hy-Vee Triathlon: 365 Days And Counting…
The sun was just breaking the horizon as “The National Anthem” began blaring from a shoddy PA. Nearly two thousand of us stared solemnly across the water when a short, wide rainbow materializing like a Technicolor ghost before us.
That we were swimming at all was, of course, a major accomplishment for organizers. Flooding had left the swim leg in contention until just days prior. But there we were — age-group triathletes, fans and volunteers — mustering at the start.
Mine was the third wave, so there was little time to get nervous. I was running on six hours of fitful sleep less than twenty-four hours after arriving in a city some fifteen hundred miles from home, but still, as I stood ankle-deep in Blue Heron Lake in West Des Moines listening to the director count down, I found myself smiling. It was as beautiful a morning as I could remember. I had arrived at the start of one of my most ambitious undertakings — the unlikely paring of a triathlon and rock show — in one piece. This was it. Game on. The air horn sounded, and we were off.
Now, in my experience, it’s not the swim that sucks, it’s the swimmers. Left to my own devices — especially in a tranquil body of water like this one (not a churning, tidal body like the Hudson), I can swim a mile no sweat (well, little sweat anyway). But triathlon is the fastest growing sport in America. It’s full of all sorts of chuckleheads who think, ‘Yeah, I can do that’ regardless of their girth or experience.
Not to sound bitter. It just gets old pretty quickly when some goon in a $300 wetsuit keeps swimming over you, pulling at your feet or punching you in the head. And you can spot the out-of-their-depths dudes pretty quickly. They’re the ones clinging in panic to the first buoy, or doing the breast stroke by the second.
But hey, it’s water. We’re made of the stuff, but not made for the stuff. It’s tough to see, and tough to navigate. So I stayed on the inside, kept focussed on the buoys, and a clean, even stroke, a settled in. Roughly thirty minutes later, I was climbing out of the chop, ripping off my goggles and cap, and lumbering across the sand like a astronaut rediscovering gravity.
Twenty-four miles on the bike is really no big deal. The trick is saving enough quad strength for the 10k. Sunday, though, presented its own special challenge.
I’d planned on renting a bike all along. That is, until I called to rent said bike, and discovered that the limited number of tourists and cost of renters insurance meant that there wasn’t on rental in Des Moines. Plan B was to spam my friends. As always, Jason Walsmith came through. “I just had my Stumpjumper tuned,” he replied. “I can put slicks on it for you, but you’ll need to learn how to use SPD pedals.”
Having never ridden with let alone raced with SPD pedals, I was apprehensive for a second, but the bike sounded perfect. I’ve done three dozen tris on my Cannondale mountain bike. I didn’t wanna’ buck the trend one some tricked-out road bike now.
When I got to Des Moines and checked out Jason cherry-condition, slate-gray, circa-1991 Specialized Stumpjumper, though, there was one problem: the seat post was rusted into position. Now, I’m only 4-6″ taller than Jason, but that’s a few inches of leg extension (or “torque,” as I believe they call it). At 6pm the night before the race, though, whatcha’ gonna’ do? 6am morning of the race, you pull your Authentic Records jersey over your shoulders, strap on your buddy’s shoes, a climb aboard.
I had three primary thoughts on the ride:
1) “This bike rocks!” Seat height and resulting geometry (I was practically standing upright) notwithstanding, Jason’s Stumpjumper was perfect: light, rigid and efficient. On one downhill towards the end, I even managed to crack 30 mph.
2) “I thought there were corn fields here!” The first five miles were nothing but mall access roads and parking lots. We’re talking Cheesecake Factory, Anytown, USA, here. The streets were new, well-paved and fast though, so no complaints. And eventually, the mall gave way to a long strip of old road along the Racoon River that was plenty scenic.
3) “I forgot how much Iowans love their porn.” Bike porn, that is. The state plays host to one of the nation’s premiere border-to-border rides,Ragbrai (which I’ve ridden three times). So it stands to reason that many competitors had some serious bikes. I’m talkin’ 350 pound guys on five thousand dollar, aerodynamic titanium triathlon bikes. I counted six other mountain bikes amongst the 1800 racers. Still, I passed many, many, many more than one tricked out tri bike in my 1:20:00 ride.
Most triathlons have one transition area in which one racks the bike and changes in and out of shoes. Due to the last-minute nature of this race, though, it had two transitions. Which meant that, though I’d dropped the bike in T1 and my shoes in T2 the night before and done my best to remember where everything was overnight, by the time I hit T2 I was turned around. It took me three excruciating, infuriating minutes to find my shoes. Those were the moments I reminded myself (to no avail) that I wasn’t competing with anyone, I was there for fun and all that other stuff. Those were the moments that also lost me my 2:45:00 goal, but whatever.
The run. ‘This,’ I thought, ‘I can do.’ The real question was what pace I could sustain. Plus, it was getting hot. And the course was hilly, especially at the end. But I run every day. It’s one foot in front of the other. I settled in somewhere between 7:45-8:00, and tried to relax.
I imagine I looked determined or zoned out or insane, but I was smiling inside. The sky was blue, the air was crisp, and I could feel the finish line. When I weakened, I ran my thumb over the spot my wedding ring normally occupies (I learned my lesson about wearing a ring in open water at last week’s race). Towards the finish, I drove my canine teeth as deeply into my tongue as possible without breaking the skin (pain is a terrific motivator).
And soon enough, the finish was in sight. It was all flapping banners, blue bunting and sluggish runners around me as I strode past the grandstands. As I turned the final corner targeting (as always) my final victims (not difficult in this race; I passed five guys in the last 100 yards), I heard, “All the way from New York, New York…” threw the devil horns into the air and leapt across the finish.
A few minutes ago, I emailed the Authentic Records guys.
“Thanks for the jersey, and helping to make it all happen,” I wrote. “Now who’s with me for next year!?!”
Jason replied almost instantly, “I’m training already, just as soon as I finish this Chinese buffet.”
This blog post is the last installment of my Des Moines Register’s Hy-Vee Triathlon training series.
On The Air: KPTL’s Live From Studio C With Deeya
If you like hearing me talk then today’s your lucky day.
As I told KPTL DJ Daniel Boseman after we wrapped our 45-minute interview, I’ve been the interviewer far more frequently than the interviewee.
See, I talk a lot. Which, I know from all my years at The MTV, is not necessarily the best thing for radio and television. We live in a sound byte world, after all. If you can’t say it in ten seconds, you probably ought not to try.
Luckily, Des Moines is not New York, and KPTL is not MTV. When Daniel and I went long Saturday afternoon on account of my verbosity (and our rapport), his boss, Program Director Deeya, just teased us, then kicked him out of the studio for our interview.
And when Des Moines residents woke Sunday morning to Deeya and I talking about the Triathlon — and judging by how many people said, “I heard you on the radio this morning” at Sunday night’s benefit, plenty did — well, that was just studio magic.
Anyway, I do an acoustic performance of “Promise” and talk about the record and stuff. And I drop my voice a bit so I don’t sound all girly. Check it out.
And then please go download “River Songs: The Authentic Records’ Flood Relief Benefit Bootleg.”
Download Authentic Records Flood Relief Benefit Bootleg Now!
Authentic Records’ artists She Swings She Sways, Jason Walsmith and Mike Butterworth (of The Nadas), Will Petersen and Jim Stockberger (of Fat Andy), Andy Fleming (of Brother Trucker), Benjamin Wagner, Stephanie Walsmith, Tony Bohnenkamp and Josh Davis performed Sunday night to raise funds for Iowa flood relief.
Donations, silent auction bids plus CD proceeds netted nearly $3000 for United Way of Central Iowa and Governor Chet Culver’s fund for disaster and flood relief.
The AK O’Connors Beaverdale event was hosted by Capitol 106.3’s Deeya.
“It was a magical night,” she said. “It’s just doesn’t get much better than musicians in the community coming together to bring out the best in each other and their fans.”
“We decided to do this event at the very last minute and only had about a week to plan and promote it. Capital 106.3 really got behind the event, and due to their promotion the place was packed” said Jason Walsmith.
But the Des Moines-based label’s flood relief efforts don’t end there.Starting Tuesday, fans can download an eight-track “bootleg” recording of the show in exchange for a contribution of any amount — all of which will go to flood relief. Tracks include an all-star performance of The Nadas’ chestnut, “The River,” plus “Promise” from Wagner’s brand-new Authentic Records release, “The Invention Of Everything Else.”
“The Nadas are Iowa’s band, and Authentic is Iowa’s label,” Wagner said. “If someone was do something, it had to be us. ‘Cuz every little bit counts.”
Visit Authentic Records to do your part!
And click here to see photos from Sunday night’s event.
Authentic Records Flood Relief Public Service Announcement - Video
I wasn’t offstage much more than two minutes when Thrillcat Editorial Director Travis Ballstadt pulled me aside to tape my part of the Authentic Records Flood Relief Public Service Announcement.
Jason and Mile had already taped their segment Sunday afternoon down by the Des Moines River itself. Unfortunately, I was still recovering from the Hy-Vee Triathlon at the time, and couldn’t get myself out of bed.
So just after my thirty-minute Authentic Records Flood Relief Benefit set, I was on. Travis set up in between the kitchen and restrooms, primarily because it was the quietest, best-lit spots in the bar. And then we rolled.
I’ve spent a fair dose of time scripting and shooting from the behind the camera, but very little in front of it. Especially with a few pints of Guinness and a ton of endorphins coursing through my veins. Worse, I’m pretty verbose (especially in such circumstances), so was going a bit long.
Fortunately, Travis was great, and helped me simplify my talking points.
Between you and me, I’m just happy to have snuck the word “neighbor” in there.
Anyway, I’m told it’s being screened at a federal symposium on dealing with the state’s recovery, and there’s some scuttlebutt that it may air in Des Moines. It represents another step in our last-minute, grass-roots, completely earnest efforts to do go by our friends and neighbors. Do check it out, do pitch in, and do spread the word.
Authentic Records Flood Relief Benefit - Photos
June 24th, 2008
On The Air: KPTL’s Capital Backyard With Daniel Boseman
It’s been a whirlwind weekend here in Des Moines, Iowa.
I got in Saturday around noon, registered for the Hy-Vee Tri, then taped two KPTL-FM Capitol 106.3 radio shows: Daniel Boseman’s Capitol Backyard, and Deeya’s Live from Studio C.
I ran the tri Sunday morning in 2:48:27. Then the Authentic Records crew threw a hugely successful Iowa Flood Relief Benefit Sunday night, raising nearly $3000 for the United Way of Central Iowa.
I’m off to a meeting at the Authentic Records Beaverdale Offices, then Iowa Public Television, before catching a 4pm flight.
Check this out, though. It’s my appearance on Daniel Boseman’s Capitol Backyard, featuring a hole bunch of talkin’, plus live acoustic performances of “Giving Up The Ghost,” and “The Last Time.”
Lots more on a fun, inspirational and active weekend soon. For now, dig it:
AK O’Connors (Beaverdale, IA)
Trying To Tell You
Giving Up The Ghost
The Last Time
Get Away
Promise
Wonderwall
Killing The Blues
Breathe In
Live Forever
Do It Again
California Stars/All I Want Is You
The Boys Of Summer
Dear Elizabeth
Click here to see photos from the Authentic Records Iowa Flood Relief Benefit and “The Invention Of Everything Else” CD Release with She Swings She Sways, Jason Walsmith and Mike Butterworth (of The Nadas), Will Petersen and Jim Stockberger (of Fat Andy), Andy Fleming (of Brother Trucker), Stephanie Walsmith, Tony Bohnenkamp, Josh Davis and me.
This Weekend? It’s All About Des Moines
Holy moly, this thing’s blowin’ up!
What began as Jason Walsmith and my crazy idea (“Run the Des Moines Triathlon then play a rock show afterwards”) has grown to something truly epic.
Almost the entire Authentic Records roster has rallied together in response to the flood devastation sustained by the great state of Iowa to present “The Authentic Records’ Unsanctioned & Uncensored Triathlon After Party & Benefit” (or, as Nadas’ GM Dr. Tyler Uetz calls it, “ARUUHVTAPBS.”
Eight acts will be performing Sunday night at AK O’Connors in Beaverdale. And if I were a bettin’ man, I’d say there’ll be some great collaborations (I’ve already roped Mike Butterworth and Stephanie Walsmith into a few songs, and Josh Davis and Tony Bohnenkamp are next).
Check out this lineup:
The Nadas’ Mike Butterworth & Jason Walsmith
Josh Davis
Benjamin Wagner
Tony Bohnenkamp
Fat Andy’s Will Petersen & Jim Stockberger
Brother Truckers’ Andy Fleming
She Swings She Sways
Tyler Thompson
I’m MCing the whole thing (’cuz I like standing up in front of perfect stranger and asking them for money), and helming a silent auction chocked full of coolness. Check these items out:
Fat Andy + Iowa Stars Hockey Gift Pak
Mike Butterworth Voicemail
Signed and framed photograph by Jason Walsmith
Personalized Benjamin Wagner Song
Complete 2008 Authentic Records Discography
Autographed Authentic Records T-shirt
$50 Grand Piano Bistro Gift Card
So I depart Newark at 6am tomorrow morning. I arrive Des Moines at 9:30. Then it’s on.
I have to pick up my bike (which Jason has graciously outfitted with a fresh pair of slicks), grab my official Authentic Records Jersey (a one-of-a-kind, sleeveless gray Nike DryFit t-shirt that Mrs. Walsmith has tricked out with the aid of uber-cool DSM fashion purveyors, Smash), then head over to registration and pre-race briefing.
I’m due at KPTL 106.3 at 3pm CT at which time I’ll be playing new songs, talking up the benefit live and recording hits for Daniel Bosman’s Saturday night show, and Deeya’s Sunday mornign acoustic show. Then I’m going to sleep.
My age group (35-39, in which, incidently, cellist Patrick Riley will also be competing) starts the off-again, on-again swim portion of the Hy-Vee Triathlon at precisely 6:07. With any luck, I’ll be done two and a half hours later.
And then the real fun begins…
See ya’ when I get there!
“The Invention Of Everything Else” CD Release - Photos
June 19th, 2008
