L'Avenir

Derrida talks about the difference between the "future" - that which we imagine or project will come to be, vs. "l'avenir" which is that unexpected actuality that comes in that we could not have imagined or predicted but replaces our reality and understanding of things.

This year TIME magazine named you, me, the "user" the person of the year. The editors identified us as the new world order based on the explosion of "user" created content, tastemaking, aggregation and filtering of data. They compare the Web2.0 to a form of global telepathy. This is something I discussed in my film "Rimlight Revel Without Me" back in 1995 when I saw the internet as an evolutionary leap by humankind, ever tied to the machine; a cyborgian marriage via which we become increasingly separated from the organic world into an informational form of energy.

YouTube is not the genie being let out of the bottle. It is a crude indication of where we are going. Next I see two-way realtime video, arena-style, where round table discussions are conducted, viewed, recorded, archived, cataloged and distributed simultaneously. Where we directly affect not just the narrative but the actual events taking place. Where we, from our living rooms, talk someone off the edge of a building, or police a neighborhood, or appeal to policemen to lay off a suspect.

I foresee world premieres of films in Second Life, where I take my remote date to a digital ATM, buy digital popcorn and zoom in on the digital screen at the virtual theater where simultaneously virtual film piracy is going on in the next row by way of a guy with a virtual camcorder taping the film for contraband sales on the virtual sidewalk the next morning.

As these economies become indistinguishable from the "real-world" economy, the commodities "within" these virtual places cease to be virtual at all. They are as real as the money in your mutual fund and capable of affecting your life to the same degree.

What is of interest to me is not the authentication of these things as real, but that it is a third person view of how we engage life already. The whole of it is a running narrative that we are able to participate in or sit back and observe. It is all malleable and forever changing by our simple viewing of it. What we determine to be relevant becomes a commodity that can be traded and our sense of success is defined by the goals that we commonly identify as worthwhile.

I see us all as little movers in a vast neural network that is learning itself. The planet is a seed, waiting patiently for the perfect moment when the sun and water conditions suggest it is time to finally crack the protective husk and push forth through the surface of the soil, to begin life and ultimately, entropy, demise.

That brief experience as a flower is fleeting, chaotic, a struggle, and it is an exhilarating subjection to the elements, and just before we face the final curtain, we burst into bloom and scatter our seeds so that the process can begin anew.

Exciting times, but when haven't they been? As the progression of our legacy on Earth continues to confirm this system, I can only look forward, without any reasonable prediction, to what will come next, know full well, that l'avenir will out-maneuver my most wild suggestions, and keep the dynamic of learning alive.

I surrender to this actuality and submit myself to the next part of this adventure. I look forward to experiencing it with all of you, my contemporaries.

Happy New Year. <-2006->2007->...?

The evolving poli-mocku-bio-mentary

Sasha Baron Cohen's "Borat; Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Great Nation of Khazakstan" surpassed even my generous predictions, coming in with US$26M opening weekend on less than 900 screens and making it the largest opener of its kind.

The theater on the second night was sold out for every show, and the line ups to get into the theater were an hour long. The crowd was a mix of "Jackass" fans, GOP-haters, frat boys, seniors, tweeners and basically anyone else. Though the film really doesn't say much, it does establish another first; it seamlessly binds together a variety of methodologies for commenting on the status quo - drawing on the Tom Green-cum-Jackass man on the street socio-agitator school, the Mork and Mindy/Coming To America - what we look like from outer space narrative fiction format, and the Michael Moore campaign-documentary, all wrapped up in a very contempo video blog indie subbacultcha format that functions as a silver bullet at its everything-that-is-popular-to-deride targets. This thing is waterproof.

In the same mainstream movieplex, alongside big openers like Dreamworks "Flushed Away" and Tim Allen's big xmas sequel "The Santa Clause 3" are Borat allies "Shut Up and Sing" - the Dixie Chicks bio-pic/promo/doc about the censorship and derision they faced after commenting on Bush in Iraq, and "Death of a President" - the controversial virtua-doc about the hypothetical assassination of the current standing president of the US in 2007.

This is an audacious new brand of cinema that has learned much from the highly advanced and surreptitious coercion tactics used by the megacorps and marketing agencies, to cloak their agendas in the lowbrow and self-effacing. There isn't a lot of content to speak of, but it belies how intense the culture war, that is the culture war of the left and right in America has become.

Watching "American Dad" today on Fox, I didn't know what to make of a segment about the staunch alpha male Republican father deciding to have sex with a man so that he could be accepted into the gay Republican movement. It's so inverted, (coming from Fox) that I couldn't help but be suspicious that in some way it was not so much Seth Macfarlane testing his limits, as it was Rupert Murdoch taking one on the chin via prime-time humor hour so that he can push his GOP agenda harder during "serious" air.

For how long on the broken backs of musicians

Ok, so I researched the new "digital media distribution" mechanism that was proposed to me. It's an MLM that essentially preys on musicians, and, like any Ponzi scheme, on vulnerable people and their friends, and their family.

I am taking a really interesting business course at UCLA at the moment on writing better business plans for independent features. One of the things that is most often stressed is honesty when finding investors. I find it serendipitous that this ancillary challenge, that is the allure of a get rich, while solving the unpaid musician dilmma is presented to me by someone who I trust and support, in the very ailing industry within which I am involved.

At any rate, I hope none of you get suckered in. I am even going to be cordial enough to those who have become involved and not list the company/model's name. But in case some kind of MySpace/Open Your Own Music Store/Make Money Selling Others People's Music thing comes around, but costs you more than you can justify - please read this excerpt from a document presented by the Federal Trade Commision:

PREPARED STATEMENT OF
DEBRA A. VALENTINE, GENERAL COUNSEL FOR
THE U.S. FEDERAL TRADE COMMISSION

on

"PYRAMID SCHEMES"
presented at the
INTERNATIONAL MONETARY FUND'S
SEMINAR ON CURRENT LEGAL ISSUES AFFECTING CENTRAL BANKS
Washington, D.C.

May 13, 1998

"Here are some tips that consumers and business might find helpful.

1. Beware of any plan that makes exaggerated earnings claims, especially when there seems to be no real underlying product sales or investment profits. The plan could be a Ponzi scheme where money from later recruits pays off earlier ones. Eventually this program will collapse, causing substantial injury to most participants.

2. Beware of any plan that offers commissions for recruiting new distributors, particularly when there is no product involved or when there is a separate, up-front membership fee. At the same time, do not assume that the presence of a purported product or service removes all danger. The Commission has seen pyramids operating behind the apparent offer of investment opportunities, charity benefits, off-shore credit cards, jewelry, women's underwear, cosmetics, cleaning supplies, and even electricity.

3. If a plan purports to sell a product or service, check to see whether its price is inflated, whether new members must buy costly inventory, or whether members make most "sales" to other members rather than the general public. If any of these conditions exist, the purported "sale" of the product or service may just mask a pyramid scheme that promotes an endless chain of recruiting and inventory loading.

4. Beware of any program that claims to have a secret plan, overseas connection or special relationship that is difficult to verify. Charles Ponzi claimed that he had a secret method of trading and redeeming millions of postal reply coupons. The real secret was that he stopped redeeming them. Likewise, CDI allegedly represented that it had the backing of a special overseas bank when no such relationship existed.

5. Beware of any plan that delays meeting its commitments while asking members to "keep the faith." Many pyramid schemes advertise that they are in the "pre-launch" stage, yet they never can and never do launch. By definition pyramid schemes can never fulfill their obligations to a majority of their participants. To survive, pyramids need to keep and attract as many members as possible. Thus, promoters try to appeal to a sense of community or solidarity, while chastising outsiders or skeptics. Often the government is the target of the pyramid's collective wrath, particularly when the scheme is about to be dismantled. Commission attorneys now know to expect picketers and a packed courtroom when they file suit to halt a pyramid scheme. Half of the pyramid's recruits may see themselves as victims of a scam that we took too long to stop; the other half may view themselves as victims of government meddling that ruined their chance to make millions. Government officials in Albania have also experienced this reaction in the recent past.

6. Finally, beware of programs that attempt to capitalize on the public's interest in hi-tech or newly deregulated markets. Every investor fantasizes about becoming wealthy overnight, but in fact, most hi-tech ventures are risky and yield substantial profits only after years of hard work. Similarly, deregulated markets can offer substantial benefits to investors and consumers, but deregulation seldom means that "everything goes," that no rules apply, and that pyramid or Ponzi schemes are suddenly legitimate."

From:
http://www.ftc.gov/speeches/other/dvimf16.htm

---------
Don't get "Burned" especially not at the expense of musicians who ultimately are the fodder.

For both sides of the story check this out:
http://www.digitalmusicnews.com/blog/310#comments

I guess my search for the new music market model continues...

Making the Record Pt. III

My shoulder was so cramped last night after recording acoustic guitar for nine straight hours in a cramped little sauna.

Josh and I hauled the studio down into the basement where there is a 4x6 sauna, and set up the AKG 414 through a Studio Projects mic pre and recorded my dad's beautiful sounding acoustic. The wooden panels that cover the walls and ceiling of the small room were superior to the matte sound foam of a typical "dead room" because it contributed to the wooodsy sound of the guitar, acting almost like a resonant booster, like wine aged in oak as opposed to steel barrels.

Over the course of one night and one whole day we tracked all of the acoustic guitar tracks for the record, which is, in my estimation, the most significant hump to have overcome; so much of the rhythm and character of these songs was developed on that instrument. Suddenly the songs sprang to life, filling in the rhythmic nuances for which Ryan, the drummer, had so eloquently left room, filling in the contrapuntal harmonies against which the melodies take on a third dimension.

At first we were concerned that, due to the nature of my acoustic/drums/bass three- piece as established at Hotel Cafe in Hollywood, the acoustic parts would be "overplaying" - filling in too much precious "white space", but mixed far back enough, they simply gave the songs an airy texture that glued together the rest of the parts - electric guitars, keyboards and so on.

Finally, at the end of the night, we had probably too many drinks, and I awoke feeling like I should just go back to bed. Which I did. When I finally managed to get on my legs, I felt this incredible sense of relief and satisfaction - finally after so long, the dreaded meat of the record has been committed to wax. Of course, the lead vocals will prove challenging, but as I explained to Josh, vocals are an emotional challenge, whereas acoustic guitars are technical and so much drier and exacting a process, and thereby exhausting and daunting. Now that's all in the past and we can move on to more creative gestures.

As I went out for some fresh air, I was almost hit in the face by a Monarch butterfly. I guess all those fat fuzzy caterpillars that Sage and Jadie were observing eat plants whole last week at Cawaja Beach finally underwent their metamorphoses. Not to overstate the obvious metaphor, but I noted that I am going back to sobriety today. Like I did for a decade before turning thirty and deciding to loosen up for a bit. Except now I feel loosened up regardless. Also, I felt this cloud that has been hovering over my being for the past year or so, go away. I realize that seems like a lot to have happen over the course of ten fever dreamish hours, except that it was in fact the end of a very long road. I am now re-learning how to stand. How to walk. How to breathe. I am in a new land, and I have no idea how to speak the language. I am even a little reticent, but I am anxious to get the hell out of wherever I just was. It was like an excorcism. At one point I practically fell to my knees to pray and expel whatever demon I felt was parked behind my left eye. Long story. And not one I really want to expunge here. But you get the idea. And it was parked there for a long while.

Oh yeah, and I received an interesting call from Los Angeles yesterday. Something that may present a solution to the query I raised in my blog entry concerning the near future of digital media distribution methods and where the market will eventually settle. You know, that whole "I know you love good music, and I am doing my best to make some, but how am I going to make a living from it and how are you going to feel like paying for it when you know that the artist is lucky to get an even marginal share, and what's more why bother when you can get it for free" conundrum.

I am not divulging what that potential solution is yet, because I need to investigate it further, although I may fill you in on it sooner that the mass media do, because after all, this blog is called my Culturepin, and so I have some sort of self-imposed duty to fill you in faster.

xo

TIFF- Day 8

Met up with Jadie in the line outside Ryerson for the screening of John Waters' "This Filthy World". Jadie was chatting with the parents of the girl who would become Peaches - internationally known smut-electro-rock-queen. I knew Peaches back when she was Merril Nisker in Fancypants Hoodlum. And she is still Merril, except that she is living out her dream fully. It was cool to meet her parents who seem very happy about all her success, including her last album "Fatherf***er" which she recorded in Los Angeles. They were there for the screening because I believe Peaches did a performance with John Waters in Los Angeles not more than three months ago (that I wished I had attended!).

Anyhoo, "This Filthy World" is a essentially a live comedy taping of John Waters' doing auto-biographical standup, directed by Jeff Garlin, a regular actor on "Curb Your Enthusiasm".

It is certainly insightful and enriching to hear the reasoning and motivation behind John Waters' works, as told by John Waters. The film itself could use some more editing. Strange shots of the world's ugliest audience are used as cutaways asGarlin cuts between a variety of performances. To his credit, you'd never know the show was taped on different nights - which is why you wonder why the hell the director is cutting away to this audience.

The film was packaged by CAA and paid for by Netflix, so I am not sure how it will show up n the marketplace - maybe as a Netflix exclusive? The Netflix production/distribution company is called Red Envelope Productions, whatever that is.

The Q&A was as wierd as one might expect of a John Waters' screening, although the strangest thing about it was that John Waters seemed the only reasonable gentlemen among the members of the crowd. Even Flyerman, that notorious pinhead egomaniac tragic starfucker was there in the front row, asking decoy questions so he could stand up an flash the audience with his sparkly Flyerman lightshow jacket. But it was, again, poignant in a way. Isn't the lust for fame by whatever means, the parents of an international smut rock Queen, the madhouse being run by the patients, isn't that what any and every John Waters film is about?

The only thing I was left wondering - what is John Waters' role, when his mission has been to push the limits of depravity and keep the boundaries loose, in the Internet age, where the lid has been blown off the Pandora box of depravity?

He answered a similar question in the Q&A in a manner that surprised me - where I thought he might have conceded to that impossible to outpace phenomenon, instead he inferred that he would just have to try harder to find what is depraved. Good luck to him. I guess indeed, someone will have to show us where are boundaries are, so at least we are conscious of it - and John Waters wants to be your man. Long live the ghost of Divine.

TIFF - Day 7

Last night, stood in the rain for forty-five minutes waiting to get into "Trapped Ashes". The usual trenchcoat crowd showed great enthusiasm for the nostalgic 80's "Tales From The Crypt" setup that framed five horror shorts by five different directors. The wraparound, directed by Joe Dante drew me back to the days of campy horror flicks that started on craneshots over suburban row houses in the Valley and led to all sorts of ghoulish mayhem. The best of the bunch was John Gaeta's thought piece on the six foot tapeworm, as well as Monte Hellman's period piece on a hundred year old witch.

Tonight we saw the Gala screening for Paul Verhoeven's "Black Book", an epic tale with an epic starlette, Carice van Houten, that was clearly a labor of love for the writer/director. I happen to be a huge fan of Verhoeven's and this piece was imbued with the same larger than life, visceral impact of his canon of works. He made a brief disclaimer before the film concerning the work he had done via Hollywood to support his career, and that this film represented a homecoming to his native Netherlands, and interestingly enough his first Gala at TIFF since The Fourth Man also in his native Dutch twenty-three years ago. A brilliant and utterly engaging film with a tour de force performance by van Houten that could very well become a classic.

Gonna try for the Jon Waters bio-pic "This Filthy World" at the Ryerson tomorow at 9pm.

TIFF - Day 5

Saw the world premiere of "Sharkwater" at Ryerson which was received with a unanimous standing ovation. What began as an endeavour to shoot sharks in all their splendour quickly turned into a much greater story, a pro-active document that goes so far as to show the documentarian alongside a fellow Canadian ship captain ramming into illegal shark poachers off the shores of Costa Rica, Guatemala and the Galapagos. Through incredible acts of bravery and covert ops, they expose a trillion dollar shark fin poaching industry based out of China/Taiwan that depletes the oceans of over 100 million sharks a year. Strongly recommended. For more information: www.sharkwater.com
\Sage and I wandered around Yorkville for the next couple of hours as we killed time before making our way to the Isabel Bader theater for Tsai Ming-liang's "I Don't Want To Sleep Alone."

The film follows a trio of Malaysian urban youth, one a homeless vagabond, the other a construction worker, and the third a woman whose life consists primarily of dry bathing her comatose brother in law. The narrative unfolds without dialogue and through achingly long shots that linger long after the mind has grown weary. Within the hazy, polluted grit of industrial Kuala Lampur these three find a strange dreamlike peace within their silent painful communion. Given that one of my all time favorite films is Andrei Tarkovsky's "The Stalker," I was able to appreciate the somnolent observation of those moments that unfold beyond the contemporary abridged attention span. Challenging, but necessary.

Tomorrow I have to put myself on tape for a last minute audition for Brittany Murphy's film "The Ramen Girl", and then we are off to try to get in to white hot "Death of A President". I overheard another filmgoer today recounting the presence of no less than 12 security guards at the first screening of the film here at TIFF 2006. Promises to be as charged as the widely protested screeening of the Kensingtion cat movie a couple of years back.

Then at midnight we have a pair of tickets to "Trapped Ashes" - the tickets given to us by the producer himself whom we ran into outside the Four Seasons today. Well it's time I got my horror fix for the year, so what better way to do it than via a series of horror shorts. More bang for my proverbial buck.

TIFF - Day 2

After much traffic and strange ego battles on street corners (of which neither I nor Sage were a part) we made our way into the Isabel Bader theater for the 4:45PM tribute to Norman McLaren, the person who created the animation department at the National Film Board of Canada back in the 40's. The Governor General of Canada as well as Fest director Piers Handling were both on hand to introduce the tribute - a series of stop motion and animated shorts beautifully restored by contemporary animators at the NFB for a 7 DVD collection being released later this year.

Standouts were Blinkity Blank which won the Palme D'or some years ago - a peppery color on black short reminiscent of a Mentos in a bottle of Pepsi experiment or a winsome fireworks display. A Chairy Tale was also both highly entertaining and stood out for the ingenuity and emotion with which McLaren was able to imbue an ordinary woooden chair as it interacted with the male actor. Also a beautiful work set to the Oscar Peterson Trio that was very reminiscent of Stan Brahkage. Highly inspiring.

Also bought a pair of tickets to see "Sharkwater" - the doc about diminishing shark populations around the world and the repercussions of losing the top level predator to an ecosystem, and "I Don't Want To Sleep Alone", which received 5 stars in eye weekly's roundup.

I am off to be a true Canadian and visit the beautiful nothern forests Barry's Bay this weekend; nothing realigns one's energy so well as a weekend on the Canadian Shield (for those not in the know, it is one of the largest concentrations of quartz crystal rock in the world).

Be back Monday for more observations on TIFF 2006. Have a good one, and stay cool!

TIFF - Day 1

Sage arrived from LA last night and we are gearing up. This is her first TIFF.

Having a had a little more time to look over the spectrum of films for this year there are some astounding surprises that suddenly remind me why every time I attend I have this Do-Or-Die feeling as I try to get in via rush lines.

As of now my top must-sees include:

Kurt Cobain About A Son, AJ Schnack, 2006 - A near autobiography of Kurt Cobain via recorded interviews etc, without the MTV gimmicks.

Shortbus, John Cameron Mitchell, 2006 - Hedwig 2 electric boogaloo. Cmon, no chance of missing this one.

Away From Here, Sarah Polley, 2006 - Sarah's directorial debut. Promises to be delicate and subtle.

D.O.A.P., Gabriel Range, 2006 - Every year there is one film that requires a disclaimer and a justification (usually concerning free speech). This is that film for 2006 - the pseudo doc about the assassination of President Bush.

Dixie Chicks - Shut Up and Sing, Barbara Kopple, Cecilia Peck, 2006 - For similar reasons, this film is all about standing your ground and doing what you believe in - in this case, in the face of the US Zeitgeist.

When The Levees Broke: A Requiem In Four Acts, Spike Lee, 2006 - Spike's documentary about New Orleans. Powerful combo. Must see.

Lake of Fire, Tony Kaye, 2006 - Ok this one is going to be really really tough viewing. Kaye has been making this documentary about the opposing views on abortion and rights for a decade and a half and I remember hearing stories about film processing houses that refused to work with the content etc. I am shocked and amazed and totally excited that it has finally arrived. Kaye is uncompromising, full of ego and what's more a genius, this film is his life's work.

Office Tigers, Liz Mermin, 2006 - Don't know why but I am a sucker for docs about contemporary corporations and business. Maybe it's because Roger & Me, startup.com, ENRON: The Smartest Men In The Room all make for such entertaining and infuriating subject matter.

Right now going to go try and catch Ken Loach's "Wind that Shakes The Barley". But what we actually get in to is anybody's guess.

-----

5:45Pm Stood in the rush line and got the 2nd last pair of tickets to see Hirokazu Kore-eda's "Hana", a very unorthodox take on the Samurai seeking to avenge his father's death at the hands of some badboy. I won't spoil it, but I was happily surprised by the unexpected twist and shared more than a few strong laughs with Sage as the actors, script and director landed some intentionally very funny beats. A bit long in the end, could have been tighter, and the 46 Samurai bit in the 3rd act felt like too much of an afterthought, regardless it gets a Recommend.

Toronto International Film Festival 2006

TIFF 2006 - Here We Go Around Again

Well, the last time I was at TIFF was 2004. Highlights included seeing The Company, House of Flying Daggers (where the audience laughed at the endingitis, nonetheless it looked gorgeous), going to the Holt Renfrew party with Heather Graham, Nisha Ganatra (we had just wrapped "Cake") and Paul Haggis whereupon we were escorted into an escalating number of V's in front of IP until we ended up in a room with Patrice Goodman, the fake JT Leroy (I KNEW it was a woman) and Michelle Trachtenberg. It was also the only room where smoking seemed permitted which was especially odd since it was the only room with hardwood floors and fur coats lining the walls.

I was at Polly Shannon's bday last week and was probing for clues on hot tickets this year. The schedule not having yet been released, I came out of there with McKellar's "Monkey Warfare," "Fido" and the film my friend worked on: "Citizen Duane."

When I checked my favorite community site that night (full disclosure: I am affiliated with it); http://freedom.constantchange.com, Redlynx, one of our users from Russia, posted about "More4" - the film about the fictional assassination of Bush in 2007. Hot topic indeed. Well the festival is at its best when it is provocative.

Some of my favorite films from past years (ie. things that still linger in the mind years after): "Vibrator" from Japan, "9/11", Michael Winterbottom's salacious "9 Songs", "Haute Tension" , "Ghost In The Shell 2", "Meet The Feebles".

Other highlights include seeing Terry Gilliam do a master session with Mark McKinney, the St. Ralph party, waving at Sarah Polley (bless) every couple of days as we pass each other on opposite escalators going wherever, and running into Roma Khanna anywhere.

I look forward to new adventures. Hoping you rocked the house again Piers.

I will not fear. Fear is the mind-killer.

How to address the new media market paradigm

Digitally watermark the content and make it freely available. Not copy protected or any of that impeding horseshit that basically renders it unsavory and unportable, but rather traceable, and to no nefarious end - not spying on end users for later litigation, not for tracking demographic usage, not to make your intelligent and cultured and beautiful audience, who wants, needs the emotional support mechanisms of stories, music and so on to enrich their lives, but rather so that the artist is paid for usage. Where does the money come from?

Record labels need to look at radio for their answers: a license is paid by whomever is making the content available (and being a strong aggregation and tastemaking hub, bank on huge numbers of eyeballs to earn ancillary revenue via AdSense style referals) and then a central pool of license capital is distributed to artists by way of digitally-distributed royalities. A digital ASCAP, SOCAN, Harry Fox, SESAC, BMI etc. This agency is not one of the existing royalty collection and distribution agencies, however, because those in existence are built for the purpose of existing systems. The new agency is primarily interested in digital watermarks, pattern recognition and digital security; they need to ensure the watermarks are persistent, unhackable, and traceable. The artist is paid based on usage of their material up to a number of degrees of separation from their original source. So that if it originated at HeresTheBestQawwaliMusicInTheWorld.com and has passed through five or six iterations of end user it begins to erode in its weight within the system.

Clearly it would be ludicrious to suppose that a royalty could be paid on number of times played - the system would hold no water and what's more, be completely abused.

The problem of having to introduce a watermark reading mechanism into existing or emerging technology is also one that should be avoided because as we have seen, there are rarely standards, only competition, from the various companies as each vies to create the patent standard upon which all others must rely and so we get unnecessary diversity in systems. So the method for cataloging the legacy of a watermark and its usage would have to arise from existing systems that have proven to stand the test of time. I am thinking on what this will be and will post shortly.

The central pool of money, of course, does not merely need to be generated by large broadcasters (in whatever form they may appear), but also, could come from the end users themselves. Much like Satellite radio which subsists off subcriptions, the end user could pay an annual fee to just have access to music that they can mash up, remix, redistribute, and so on as they please. Like paying the milkman for delivering a daily necessity - milk. It just becomes a part of one's life - a necessity, and assumption of persistence. Why shouldn't it be considerded thusly? We all listen to music. I have met perhaps two people in my entire life that have claimed to not "be into" music, and I have met far more people than that in total =) (granted I have not visited some of places in the world where music is frowned upon but those places are not the focus of the market I am addressing). The only thing that has changed with music and the demand for it is how that has been represented or tracked. It was once live, then written to parchment to be re-created at a later time by musicians, then recorded and distributed on wax cylinders, music boxes, player pianos, vinyl, 8-track, cassette, video cassette, CD, DVD, mp3, ipod swapping etc.

That many people could listen to a vinyl record at once does not change the fact that pirated copies of a CD that someone had to buy or otherwise obtain, were uploaded and then played for a group of like-minded people being entertained around a digital campfire by their digital host/tastemaker/storyteller etc. So music is always there and always being disseminated post manufacturer. It's how it goes. Someone buys a loaf of bread and brings it home, everyone partakes of it. But you pay taxes to live in that home. You pay for running hot water. You pay for your garbage to be collected. You pay for your 600 cable channels. You pay for electricity. Not everyone in the household does, but the fact that many in the household use it frugally or otherwise affects the monthly bill. An artist should be compensated in the same way for creating what can be, if one observes usage patterns, deemed a necessity. It can be qualified as a necessity because it is pervasive and ubiquitous. Imagine if recorded music disappeared from the world altogether. Just gone. And the ability to ever make it again vanished in kind. Seems a little ludicrous and unthinkable and perhaps a little unnecessary doesn't it? Just like the idea that oil could ever really run out, that electricty could expire, that the oceans could become saturated with pollution, that we could actually affect the global climate to the degree of mass destruction.

Artists are channelers - some in league with the Zeitgeist, others timeless searchers for meaning and myth within their experiences. We require this to find for ourselves something that we can connect to socially and realign ourselves with this otherwise implausible thing we call life. Everyone gets to take home something for their work, even if they don't understand their end user, even if they are just a cog in the machine. But the musician is treated like the celebrity is often treated - someone who chose their marginal fringe state and should respectively be compensated equally marginally and erratically, as though because the job almost demands a maverick mentality, the creator should be compensated as such - a ready target for derision when the game plan doesn't pan out - their notoriety invites ridicule as a rebuke for having demanded one's attention in the first place. But you see, the best of them are probes - Martian rovers searching for answers. Hardly justification for tabloid stalking and public character assassination.

It is still a wild frontier, the music and film industries. Still being run like banks and gangsters facing off over a pile of burned out wagons. I propose and foresee a solution that requires not a change of retailer, but a change of perception.

These are sketches on a pad, and I invite your thoughts.

I mean just cuz.

How much do you want to sit for a coffee with these bad boys.

Gearing Up For My New Record

This week Josh called the audio rental company in Newmarket that he freelances with and asked them to take part of an outstanding invoice he has and apply it towards an equipment rental so that we could bring a top of the line signal path to my bedroom studio here in Toronto.

Jadefox 2.0, Josh and I drove up to Newmarket and half an hour later walked away with an Avalon U5 mic pre/DI (imho the Rolls Royce of DI's), an AKG 414 mic (which is the mic I used on the Blue Dog Pict records) a Drawmer compressor and this weird semi hollow electric guitar.

I got it all up to the room but didnt plug anything in for a couple of days. Instead I spent the next 48 hours chopping up some of Ryan's overdubbed drum parts and filtering them in every way possible.

I called DJ Shine, who just got back into town from his tour with Nelly Furtado (he was in Osaka, Tokyo and then Los Angeles where he took my gf as his date out to a K.Fed after-party) and asked if I could get a MIDI keyboard. He loaned me his M-Audio Oxygen 8 and finally, I had everything I needed to do anything I want for the record.

That night I laid down some Mellotron, some ambient stuff I programmed on a variety of soft synths, and saw a whole new dimension emerge from the material. I was quickly reminded that just because these songs developed as "unplugged" concepts at the Hotel Cafe, that they aren't and don't need to remain that way. Exciting! The world is my oyster. I reminded myself to get crazy and stay crazy and keep the imagination wide.

Finally after a couple of days, my borrowed guitar all restrung with shiny new silver strings, tuned, retuned, stretched, pulled and tuned again, I plugged in and started laying down parts for Mary Magdalene. The Avalon sounds amazing! Amazing. It has six tone settings, essentially EQ curves that are optimized for electric guitar, acoustic, bass, vocals etc.


Using that alone through the solid state/tube combo within the DI, I laid down the clean and heavy parts and counterpoint harmonies for the song. I have to say, it sounds just astounding. This is before even re-amping and processing.


Finally, I imported all the different elements, the filtered breaks, the keyboard parts, pads, and the 16 guitar tracks and listened back.

I can no longer find a point of reference for the song. That is to say, it sounds incredible, but it is no longer categorizable via any artist or genre that I can name.

I am sure it will eventually come to order, but right now it is in that deliciously nebulous zone of inception that leaves the mind racing and the heart pounding in the middle of the night as one stands alone, cigarette aloft, drink in hand , in a humid breeze, gazing at the impossible depth of night and wondering if there is a point to it all, and hoping to God there isn't.

I shall not write about how fun it was to go see Snakes on a Plane with all my friends.
I shall not write about how fun it was to go see Snakes on a Plane with all my friends.
I shall not write about how fun it was to go see Snakes on a Plane with all my friends.
I shall not write about how fun it was to go see Snakes on a Plane with all my friends.
I shall not write about how fun it was to go see Snakes on a Plane with all my friends.
I shall not write about how fun it was to go see Snakes on a Plane with all my friends.
I shall not write about how fun it was to go see Snakes on a Plane with all my friends.
I shall not write about how fun it was to go see Snakes on a Plane with all my friends.
I shall not write about how fun it was to go see Snakes on a Plane with all my friends.
I shall not write about how fun it was to go see Snakes on a Plane with all my friends.

My record pt. 2

Since I moved to Los Angeles over a decade ago, returning to Toronto is always a form of transmogrification, like a slow moulting of all the pretense and defense mechanisms and enterprising mindfulness that I adopt when out West.

It is just as painful, I would imagine, as a lobster shucking off its hard shell, and just as vulnerable in the aftermath. But that is precisely why I come back.

It isn't anything about Toronto in particular, other than that it is where I am from and the friends I grew up with, literally, learned about the world and its sordid alleys, alongside, they are here to remind me of distant sentiments and exposures.

I saw Peter Devlin, the original guitarist for Blue Dog Pict -the kid who used to play Hendrix solos behind his head etc. Now it's 17 years later and we are doing the same thing - drinking, being stupid, playing guitar. Damn, I didn't think it could feel so good to just trade stories about this or that amazing or whack musician or musical experience we have encountered along the way. What a long way it has been.

Anyway, after a couple of days of catching up, Josh Joudrie, sound man for BDP and my co-producer on Spindly Light Und Wax Rocketines (Constant Change Music 1996) comes over and joins us, and we set up the laptop, the audio interface, the extra LCD monitor, the keyboard amp etc, out on the porch and spend the day tracking Pete's guitar tracks out in the beautiful summer breeze under the sun, and in the shade of pine trees.

It isn't so much about your plan, as it is knowing the precise moment when to hit record. That is all that matters. Getting to the moment and then capturing it. Pete headed back off to Owen sound to play a concert and I remain here, listening back to all these new moments, these new guitar moments, like polaroids, and wondering what the hell to do with them.

Wicked.

The lunatic is in my head.

never fails. every time the moon waxes full, I feel like a thousand pins are navigating through my pores trying to find a way out. the adrenaline rush to which i have become addicted and wish i could find rehab for. two days later the whole thing is gone like a fever dream.

i wrote in True and Selfish Prophets, as Igwa, the protagonist searches for quiet: "How ironic that the glue of my sanity is lunatic."



i can't even create at times like these.

i read a book once called "how the moon affects you". they recorded the highest number of crimes and psychological emergency calls during full moons. their thesis is that some people are more prone to this than others - that those who typically walk the line between this world and some other are akin to tightrope walkers, whereas those who have found a sturdier footing in terra firma rarely feel swayed by the moon's influence.

well, i fall in the former category. i wish advil fixed it. the only thing that does is running, baying, and writing.

i usually get through the tricky moments by reminding myself that if Alice lost her cool in Wonderland she would literally have lost her head. but this propensity towards turning into a werewolf brings a whole new meaning to "follow the white rabbit..." roast it, eat it.

i think i'm gonna go meditate.

Robot Pride Day 2006

I received quite a few correspondences today from some regular visitors to the freedom.constantchange.com site and MySpace(.com/kms) site asking me what Robot Pride Day really is about. They generally seemed familiar with the web pages that are out there on the subject, and with some of the culture, but still wanted me to put a finger on WHAT IS IT.

It's a network. It's an agreement. It's a pact. It's a promise to one's self.

It is not a paid advertisement. It is not a facade. It is not a gimmick.

It is a call. It is a lifestyle. It is a reminder.

It is not a parade.

It is a comment. It is a critical perspective. It is a philosophy. It is a think tank.

It is not about robots.

I love you.

We are off and running!

After so much trial and error, development, feedback, talent searching, talent matching, talent training, after so much blood, sweat, and faith...we are finally recording the album.

Last Sunday Ryan and I went to his friend's project studio in a guest house in Burbank where he had been recording the new Madras record and getting amazing drum sounds. Seems like they did all the grunt work and worked out the kinks because by the time I got there at 10am on the hottest day I can remember in Los Angeles, the kit, a hybrid of Pearl, Tama, DW and a signature snare that Ryan called his old professor for advice on, sounded absolutely amazing.

Ryan spent the next eleven hours tirelessly incorporating all we had talked about into the drum patterns. We had referenced all the songs I could think of that might have influenced these compositions over the time they have gestated in my brain - everything from early Stereolab, to D'Angelo to Charles Ives, My Bloody Valentine, Nine Inch Nails, Jane's Addiction, Jeff Buckley, Pink Floyd, and all the great drumnbass artists and white labels I have grown to love -and figured out how to pay tribute to them one way or another within the context of the beats. Of course, you'd never know what is what when you listen to the final takes, but it was a fun excercise to go back down memory lane and reverse engineer.

We tracked parts for The Big End, We Breathe So Brief and Moving Dark Circles - a song that I wrote almost ten years ago (!) between when Blue Dog Pict dismantled and I began playing solo and with Automated Gardens.

The original song list didn't include MDC, but Ryan insisted on it. He thinks it's the bees' knees - and hey, what can I say, I have always loved it, but the song just never found a home. Until now.

I brought the tracks home and imported them into ProTools so that I could track other stuff as I go, and I am glad I did, because Jessica Hathaway (who helped me finish writing Breathe So Brief) and who was the original female voice on the song when we debuted it at the Hotel Cafe, happened to be moving back to London, England and came to say goodbye. I got her to sing in her parts over the drums tracks and, despite being exhausted and ready to catch a flight the next morning, sounded good as ever. it was kind of like catching a rare pic of a bird thought to be extinct. I hope that isn't a bad analogy. Suffice to say, it was a lucky catch and now I can be sure to have her parts on the record.

I had done the same thing last spring when Natalie John, the USC jazz student who originally replaced Jessica when Jess first left, was moving to NYC. I had Nat come over and track her parts for the same song, along with her beautiful trumpet solo, the night before she left.

I am going to use both their voices in the final version. Their respective qualities are so distinct that I now have more colors to play with. The record is made up of precious moments barely captured and that makes the tracks all the more urgent and compelling - like knowing it's your last perfomance. Wonderful stuff.

It's no different with Ryan. I am leaving town for 6 weeks - going up to Toronto for a variety of reasons - Robot Pride Day 2006, the Toronto Film Festival etc. Ryan realized we had to do this now, so we quit stalling, cut a deal with Dan and away we went. Again, because of the urgency, Ryan played for his life and we got it done. We record the remaining three tracks next Sunday before I get on a plane.

I'm going to take the tracks on a hard drive with me to Toronto and see what amazing musicians I can capture there before bringing it all back to Los Angeles where I will finish recording and mixing for what will hopefully be a spring release (no later, I promise).

Oh and I must make mention of the fact that it all probably started coming together after I worked out a solid stylistic game plan for the record. A lot of the delay has come from deliberating exactly what the style was going to be. I could have made the Clara Bow /Kurt Weill record but then where does Blood or The Mean fit into the equation. I realized that with Blue Dog Pict, there was always that overarching concept that showed me the way. I saw some photographers' works that finally tied together where my sensibilities lay these days. I will find some links and post their works for reference. Mainly it's sepia toned, Steampunk - that hybrid of organics and tech. (Found it:)

Robert ParkeHarrison. My new hero.

The amorphous fluidity of breath, and the rigorous logic of engineering. The collision between the two. For machines to dream about...