Where Are You Calling From? (Or, Virtual Rock & Roll)
I probably should have known better than to be working on a new album during MTV Video Music Awards season, but here I am, knee deep in “Forever Young” with less than two weeks to go until the channel’s big night.
The timing was, of course, to be expected. As my colleague, Rachel, put it, “No one does fall like you.” I have a long history of Q3 releases (“Almost Home,” “Love & Other Indoor Games”) typically jammed-packed amidst marathons and tours. This year, though, the reasoning was simple: “Forever Young” is inspired by Maggie. By October 2d, she’ll be old enough to celebrate the album’s Rockwood Music Hall release (where Abbi and I first met in 2005).
Still, this fall is something special, something absurd. In addition to our brand-new, super-adorable daughter, and in addition to our respective day jobs, I’m scheduled to run the Chicago Marathon (10-10-10!!!) while “Mister Rogers & Me” is unspools at numerous film festivals.
Truth is, the bulk of my heavy lifting is done. I recorded basic tracks back in March, and have been slowly chipping away at overdubs and final vocals since. I shipped all of my master files to Sonic Factory producer (and The Nadas’ bassist) Jon Locker last week. A few collaborative elements (ex: Raining Jane Mai Bloomfield’s “You’ve Got A Friend” harmonies) are pending, but, for the most part, it’s up to Jon; he adds instruments and mixes, I send him notes, and he remixes. It’s a winning formula (the same one that brought you “The Invention Of Everything Else” amidst the 2008 MTV Movie Awards).
Periodically throughout the day, then, I am greeted by rough mixes (and the occasional photo, natch). This morning, I was greeted with Jon’s rough mix of the title track. Everything was in its right place: Emily Easterly’s voice floated in the ether, Chris LoPresto’s piano ebbed and flowed.
This afternoon’s intra-meeting email break was punctuated by a special surprise, an MP3 titled “Mike Cell Call.” In it, The Nadas’ Jason Walsmith’s “You Are My Sunshine” harmonies (soon-to-be partnered with the beautiful and talented Becca Smith’s) are interrupted by a call from his bandmate, Mike Butterworth.
“Are you in the bathtub?” Jason asks.
Hilarity — or joyful normalcy (which, I suppose, is hugely un-rock ‘n roll but precisely where my life resides these days) — ensues.
Have a listen.
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
“Forever Young” will be released on Saturday, October 2 at 3pm (all-ages) and 8pm (grown ups!) at Rockwood Music Hall. Special guests include Chris Abad, Tony Maceli, Ryan Vaughn, Bryann Dunn, Emily Easterly, Casey Shea, Jamie Leonhart, and more. Proceeds will benefit The Fred Rogers Center in Latrobe, Pennsylvania.
Am I Off The Rails?
With “Forever Young,” I may be off the rails.
A few weeks ago, rock journos Greg Kot and Jim DeRogatis aired a special episode of their weekly “Sound Opinions” program called “Off The Rails.” In the show, the two tallied artists who’d detoured unforgivably from the promise of their early career: Lauryn Hill, Metallica, Liz Phair. The first spot was assigned to Rod Stewart whose “Stardust: The Great American Songbook, Vol. III” — in the duo’s estimation, anyway — undid Stewart’s work with The Jeff Beck Group, The Faces, and as a solo artist.
“It’s not just that he became a pop-panderer exclusively,” DeRogatis exclaimed. “He decided he wanted to be Wayne Newton!”
The thought that perhaps my forthcoming benefit CD, “Forever Young,” is a bridge too far — too cheesy, too corny, too earnest — and might undo standout moments like “Crash Site,” “Almost Home,” and “Love & Other Indoor Games” dawned on me Sunday night. I was tracking my second-to-last vocal, a plaintive, melancholy, lullaby-version of “You’ve Got A Friend” over Chris LoPresto’s solo piano. (Raining Jane singer Mai Bloomfield will later add harmonies.)
It was one of my most gentle, understated vocals yet — precisely the kind of sounds a rock journo would deride. What’s more, the concept of the album — ten seminal ballads from my childhood recorded by my friends and I as a gift to my daughter and her generation — is the kind of project that marks the edge of one’s career, not the center.
Make no mistake, I couldn’t be more proud of much of my singing here. It’s matured, tempered, warm. Maggie’s changed me. I haven’t strummed my guitar in months, only finger-picked. Likewise, I haven’t raised my voice. Everything is gentler, softer, and less-urgent. Some might say I’ve lost my edge.
To me, rock ‘n roll has always been about rebellion: Dylan at Newport, Lennon at Madison Square Garden, Bono at Red Rocks. Rock ‘n roll and its flag bearers have always pushed against something: faith, sex, God, politics. It is arguable that — at 38-years-old with a decent job, a beautiful wife and adorable baby girl — I have little edge left.
In persisting, though, I am rebelling. The very act of enduring despite critics, prevailing wisdom, trends or taste, is an act of defiance. Even if, for the most part, we sound good doing it.
And if it’s not rock ‘n roll? If it’s not rebellion? If I have, indeed, lept the rails?
I can live with it.
* * *
“Forever Young” will be released on Saturday, October 2 at 3pm (all-ages) and 8pm (grown ups!) at Rockwood Music Hall. Special guests include Chris Abad, Tony Maceli, Ryan Vaughn, Bryann Dunn, Emily Easterly, Casey Shea, Jamie Leonhart, and more. Proceeds will benefit The Fred Rogers Center in Latrobe, Pennsylvania.
1 – Forever Young (featuring Emily Easterly)
2 – The Rainbow Connection (featuring Amber Rubarth)
3 – The Only Living Boy In New York (featuring Chris Abad)
4 – Sweet Baby James (featuring Jeff Jacobson)
5- You Are My Sunshine (featuring The Nadas)
6 – You’ve Got A Friend (featuring Mai Bloomfield)
7 – Mr. Tambourine Man (featuring Bryan Dunn)
8 – Golden Slumbers (featuring Casey Shea)
9 – Moon River (featuring Bess Rogers)
10 – Amazing Grace (featuring Jamie Leonhart)
Rock ‘N Roll Coochie Coo
Thank goodness, my week of rock ‘n roll bachelorhood finally came to an end.
Abbi, Maggie and I were in Wilmington, DE, last weekend for The Keller’s 40th anniversary. I had to get back to NYC for MTV’s TJ Search Finale on Sunday. So it seemed like a perfect, logical solution. Abbi could relax with her family, and I could finish my forthcoming benefit CD, “Forever Young.”
Jeff Jacobson ran my studio (aka Maggie’s nursery) through. Our cover of James Taylor’s “Sweet Baby James” is a melancholy, lullaby version of the tune. He laid down the guitar track months ago: gorgeous. I recorded the vocals a few weeks after Maggie was born, struggling to make it through without crying; it’s a moving song (“There’s a song that they sing of their home in the sky/Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep/Singing works just fine for me”).
Then Jeff tracked a simple guitar part for “You Are My Sunshine,” on which The Nadas’ front men Jason Walsmitha nd Mike Butterworth are dueting. We had a ball catching up. I did anyway; I talked his ear off.
On Tuesday, Chris Abad came by to lay down vocals for Simon & Garfunkle’s “The Only Living Boy In New York.” Chris knocked it out in just a few minutes, then hung out a while swilling beer with my brother and me.
On Wednesday, Bryann Dunn came by to lend his voice (and guitar) to our cover of Bob Dylan’s “Mr. Tambourine Man” (no pressure). Bryann so tired of my compliments (he nailed my phrasing and delivered a gorgeous guitar solo) that he took to saying, “I tire of your praise.”
It was great to see all my boys, and to make progress on “Forever Young.”
What I didn’t predict, though, was just how much I would miss my girls. Our apartment was too quiet, too clean, too colorless without them. It didn’t feel like home. And, much fun as I was having, I didn’t feel completely like myself. I’m more than a musician now. More than a media executive. I’m a husband and a father. It completes me.
“Forever Young” is for them. It’s about all of that. And it’s October 2…
1 – Forever Young (featuring Emily Easterly)
2 – The Rainbow Connection (featuring Amber Rubarth)
3 – The Only Living Boy In New York (featuring Chris Abad)
4 – Mr. Tambourine Man (featuring Bryan Dunn)
5 – You Are My Sunshine (featuring Jason Walsmith & Becca Smith)
6 – Sweet Baby James (featuring Jeff Jacobson)
7 – You’ve Got A Friend (featuring Mai Bloomfield)
8 – Golden Slumbers (featuring Casey Shea)
9 – Amazing Grace (featuring Jamie Leonhart)
10 – Moon River
All The Small Things
“It’s time,” Abbie said.
I tiptoed into the bedroom, and squinted through the darkness until my eyes adjusted. Maggie came into focus just a few feet before me, motionless in her bassinet.
She was swaddled like a papoose, her lips curled into a heart-shape.
I slid my right hand beneath her back, my left beneath her head, and whispered into her ear, “Maggie…”
Her brow furled. Her legs curled. She yawned. I gently removed the swaddle blanket as her eyes flickered open, and scanned the space beyond my forehead.
A tiny, blue and orange Band-Aid covered her tiny, chubby shoulder, one of two bandages from this morning’s immunizations.
At the pediatrician’s office a few hours earlier, I turned my head for all three shots, Tweeting her vitals instead. “Maggie Update,” I typed. “23.5 inches, 12.3 pounds, 95th percentile!”
Just a few months ago, I never could have imagined what tiny increments would spark the wildfires of my pride. I never could have imagined an outsized love so big it bears repeating over and over and over.
At two months, every new gesture is a sign of growth: lifting her head, following objects with her eyes, reaching and grasping. Smiling.
Yesterday afternoon, I lay on the floor as she squeaked and chirped her way through tummy time. She struggled to lift her head, teetering on the edge of laughter and tears, frustration and elation. Finally, with an assist, she grabbed the ball and collapsed exhausted.
Used to be that I measured my days in rock songs written, miles elapsed, applause accrued. These days, it’s the small things: a clean kitchen, a freshly-folded load of laundry.
These days are measured in small things, like the space between Abbi and me, the times when I lifted my baby girl to my chest, cradle her head in my palm, and delivered her to her mother, smiling all the way.
