Though I have sifted through countless online forums and tried a dozen remedies, my Alesis Multimix 12 (a firewire mixer) continues to make a horrid low-pitched hum whenever I attempt to record my Guild acoustic electric guitar through it. I have checked for ground loops and acquired noise-cancelling direct boxes. I have attempted to ground the unit by running wires from its chassis to the base of my computer, around my pinky finger, and even down my pants (long story). All solutions reduce some unwanted sound, but I am yet to hit upon the silver bullet.
I finally rang Alesis tech support this morning, figuring they have heard the gripe before. After running me through ten ideas I tried weeks ago, I hung the phone on its cradle and found myself wishing there was hair atop my bald head so I could pull it out in frustration.
How can company after company, with precious few exceptions, possess such thorough ineptitude in troubleshooting their own products? I would put serious cash on the line that my call was not the first of its topic to ring at the help desk. Just once, I would like to dial an 888 number to find a friendly, knowledgeable person on the other end who solves my issue in ten minutes or less. Sounds like a frosty day in the underworld.
There. Rant over.
Considering that I use precisely one of the strips in this 12 input mixer, I have started to research much simpler interfaces that would enable great sound and ease of use in one portable box. Across the board, the Apogee One and the Apogee Duet seem to take the cake. Their prices are on the steep side, so I am hoping to trade the Multimix to someone who has an Apogee product. Until then I will plug along with the Alesis box and clean noise fragments with Logic's host of powerful plug-ins.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Monday, March 8, 2010
Web Spinning
Emails about the Redline Project have been rolling in from the second degree of separation. As this experiment rolls along, I must tip my hat to the wily wordsmith(s) that furnished the internet with a pet name of 'world wide web.' Since the premise of this project appeared in article form on the Gordon College blog, I have receive word from several old friends that they reposted the article or tacked up a link to their Facebook pages, Google accounts, and Twitter feeds in support of this effort.
It is a painless 30 second proposition to post a link on such social networking sites, and doing so yields marvelous results. I am tickled silly that friends of friends have started to connect with the goals of the Redline Project and its greater purpose of encouraging like-minded artists of all genres.
Jon, my college roommate during freshman year with whom I have not communicated for a decade, dropped me a line. Here's an excerpt:
I have been reading through your blog. It is awesome. I am rooting for you and will pass your information along to eveyone I know. I wish we lived closer together. I just built a mini recording studio in my church (at my expense so the equipment is mine). I would have loved to work on this with you. I am learning as I go too, it is fun and so frustrating all at once.
Agreed, roomie. So much about the process of recording music surges pure excitement through my veins. Every success comes after a bouquet of dead ends, which have a way of poking my most sensitive nerves. As Dr. Greene would often encourage, let's keep our feet to the fire and press on.
Jon did as he said he would, linking his Facebook page to the Redline Project. One of his friends bit the hook and navigated his way over for a gander. He took the time to write as well. The note sent was a precious gift; I hope you enjoy this excerpt.
What you had to say [in the blog] was so encouraging to me. I am a musician as well and am pretty much in the same boat you were/are in with regards to having such an unquenchable passion to create great music for others to benefit from, but for the past several years, have pretty much just worked in different office jobs. But I'll end up creating music in my head while I'm at the office and then go home and try to recreate it all on my guitar. I'm constantly hitting upon subject matter in life that needs to be put into song in new and fresh ways.
I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that you and I are a lot alike. I'm 29 years old, married, and my wife and I are expecting our first child through the process of adoption. We live in inner city Philadelphia. I was seriously bummed when I read that you live in Atlanta because I have been searching for years for a musical partner, someone who shares the undying need to let the music bleed out, not for money or fame, but to fulfill what is so naturally ingrained in my being for the benefit of others. I've written several songs myself but always feel so much more creative when collaborating with others. I've played in a number of bands since my teens, with a bunch of talented people, but have not yet met that kindred spirit with whom to write, record, and perform the music that I still have yet to truly let out of myself.
This blog details my personal journey from the land of the daily grind back back to the world of music. Its deeper and perhaps more important purpose is to encourage artists camouflaged as insurance salespeople, accountants, construction workers, and the like to return to their creative bents with vigor and courage. I believe concerted effort will lead me back to music, and I am confident my readers could all make the choice to do the same. If you find yourself on the brink of creative expression but are waiting for a little motivation, consider this blog a digital fire under your seat.
If anyone is interested in making my day and giving the Redline Project a bump in the right direction, please take 30 seconds to pin a link on your digital walls. Do not underestimate how great a help this is, and know you have my sincere gratitude.
I sliced my left index finger on an open can of soup during today's lunchtime. This means no guitar for at least a couple of days, but I promise productivity in the composing and arranging departments.
It is a painless 30 second proposition to post a link on such social networking sites, and doing so yields marvelous results. I am tickled silly that friends of friends have started to connect with the goals of the Redline Project and its greater purpose of encouraging like-minded artists of all genres.
Jon, my college roommate during freshman year with whom I have not communicated for a decade, dropped me a line. Here's an excerpt:
I have been reading through your blog. It is awesome. I am rooting for you and will pass your information along to eveyone I know. I wish we lived closer together. I just built a mini recording studio in my church (at my expense so the equipment is mine). I would have loved to work on this with you. I am learning as I go too, it is fun and so frustrating all at once.
Agreed, roomie. So much about the process of recording music surges pure excitement through my veins. Every success comes after a bouquet of dead ends, which have a way of poking my most sensitive nerves. As Dr. Greene would often encourage, let's keep our feet to the fire and press on.
Jon did as he said he would, linking his Facebook page to the Redline Project. One of his friends bit the hook and navigated his way over for a gander. He took the time to write as well. The note sent was a precious gift; I hope you enjoy this excerpt.
What you had to say [in the blog] was so encouraging to me. I am a musician as well and am pretty much in the same boat you were/are in with regards to having such an unquenchable passion to create great music for others to benefit from, but for the past several years, have pretty much just worked in different office jobs. But I'll end up creating music in my head while I'm at the office and then go home and try to recreate it all on my guitar. I'm constantly hitting upon subject matter in life that needs to be put into song in new and fresh ways.
I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that you and I are a lot alike. I'm 29 years old, married, and my wife and I are expecting our first child through the process of adoption. We live in inner city Philadelphia. I was seriously bummed when I read that you live in Atlanta because I have been searching for years for a musical partner, someone who shares the undying need to let the music bleed out, not for money or fame, but to fulfill what is so naturally ingrained in my being for the benefit of others. I've written several songs myself but always feel so much more creative when collaborating with others. I've played in a number of bands since my teens, with a bunch of talented people, but have not yet met that kindred spirit with whom to write, record, and perform the music that I still have yet to truly let out of myself.
This blog details my personal journey from the land of the daily grind back back to the world of music. Its deeper and perhaps more important purpose is to encourage artists camouflaged as insurance salespeople, accountants, construction workers, and the like to return to their creative bents with vigor and courage. I believe concerted effort will lead me back to music, and I am confident my readers could all make the choice to do the same. If you find yourself on the brink of creative expression but are waiting for a little motivation, consider this blog a digital fire under your seat.
If anyone is interested in making my day and giving the Redline Project a bump in the right direction, please take 30 seconds to pin a link on your digital walls. Do not underestimate how great a help this is, and know you have my sincere gratitude.
I sliced my left index finger on an open can of soup during today's lunchtime. This means no guitar for at least a couple of days, but I promise productivity in the composing and arranging departments.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Song Solution
Yesterday's post included a verse and a chorus of what I hoped would develop into song. The lines painted a descriptive backdrop for a story about two kids living in different worlds. I was puzzled about how, or even if, the plot should unfold, and I stalled out as I attempted to compose the following verses.
24 hours ago these few lines resembled little more than a haiku; today these ideas have taken shape and are singable from beginning to end. The story propped my eyelids open as I tried to sleep last night, and the melody greeted me when I awoke this morning.
This set of lyrics represents the first collaboration in the Redline Project. Late yesterday evening, I sat with my wife Margaret, and we hammered out the concept until the shape of a story emerged. Parallel construction is the main device used in the song; each verse relates to the others with common phrases and ideas as two different pictures with striking similarities are painted for the listener.
The song is about the commonalities people have across boundaries of economic status, race, and gender. Two living situations are presented that seem so different but are both filled with intense sorrow and moments of joy. These settings are portrayed as imperfect and broken, with the only place of true harmony being the public garden that lies between them. Its a story of finding hope in despair and discovering life in the midst of death.
________________________
Barefoot Commons
v1
Little black boy from Roxbury Station
Little white girl from the high rise on the hill
It's a steamy July in Downtown Crossing
But the willows cast their shade in the garden
Chorus
Black hand, white hand gripping each other
Dance in circles, sister and brother
Leaping, glittered splash underneath the fountain
Fifteen miles, a world apart
There's plenty of time for broken hearts
Drink the moment at the barefoot Commons
v2
There's something going down in Roxbury Station
Someone's two-timing in the high rise on the hill
He's skipping the rent to feed an addiction
She's hiding hot tears behind a hollow smile
v3
Find love in the pockets of Roxbury Station
Find peace in the quiet of the high rise on the hill
The ravens weave nests in the leaves of the willows
The lilies spread their wings in the garden
24 hours ago these few lines resembled little more than a haiku; today these ideas have taken shape and are singable from beginning to end. The story propped my eyelids open as I tried to sleep last night, and the melody greeted me when I awoke this morning.
This set of lyrics represents the first collaboration in the Redline Project. Late yesterday evening, I sat with my wife Margaret, and we hammered out the concept until the shape of a story emerged. Parallel construction is the main device used in the song; each verse relates to the others with common phrases and ideas as two different pictures with striking similarities are painted for the listener.
The song is about the commonalities people have across boundaries of economic status, race, and gender. Two living situations are presented that seem so different but are both filled with intense sorrow and moments of joy. These settings are portrayed as imperfect and broken, with the only place of true harmony being the public garden that lies between them. Its a story of finding hope in despair and discovering life in the midst of death.
________________________
Barefoot Commons
v1
Little black boy from Roxbury Station
Little white girl from the high rise on the hill
It's a steamy July in Downtown Crossing
But the willows cast their shade in the garden
Chorus
Black hand, white hand gripping each other
Dance in circles, sister and brother
Leaping, glittered splash underneath the fountain
Fifteen miles, a world apart
There's plenty of time for broken hearts
Drink the moment at the barefoot Commons
v2
There's something going down in Roxbury Station
Someone's two-timing in the high rise on the hill
He's skipping the rent to feed an addiction
She's hiding hot tears behind a hollow smile
v3
Find love in the pockets of Roxbury Station
Find peace in the quiet of the high rise on the hill
The ravens weave nests in the leaves of the willows
The lilies spread their wings in the garden
Friday, March 5, 2010
Toys
Yesterday was a postless void for the Redline project with good reason. I am a graphic artist by trade, and my G5 workhorse has been coughing and sputtering in its twilight years. Our business had a decent month in February, and the financial committee (my wife) okayed the purchase of a new workstation.
Perched atop my dwarfed desktop is a gleaming iMac quad core with a whopping 27 inches of viewing bliss. I am this Mac's second owner in as many months. Its retail purchaser is a PC user who could not acclimate to the Macintosh interface. As a result, I landed a barely-used workstation with full warranty and free add-ons for hundreds less than I would have paid at an Apple store.
The iMac paced its way through a migration of all my files, still digging digital grooves into the new hard drive when I awoke this morning. During this initial, lengthy data port, the computer goes into full lockdown. Without the option of typing up blog entries, I grabbed ye olde guitar, a sketchbook, a pen, a capo, and a pick.
In a few moments my mind meandered off to the Boston Commons, a magical landscape in the middle of downtown. When winter's jaw loosens its bitter bite, thousands of people emerge from their cocoons to savor a day below the garden's shade trees. A brave few, mostly children, venture their way into a concrete pond, romping with friends, splashing sisters, and chasing brothers. The delicate flutter of laughter slaloms its way through wrought lampposts long before the merry sight comes into view.
As my fingers kept picking away at the strings, I became lost in the faraway place. A fictitious story began to weave itself, and I watched in amazement as the pen began to ink lyrics on the lined page. The song in its halfway-written state sets the scene for a tale about two children from different worlds who experience a moment of shalom under the park's fountain.
The problem: I don't know what have these children do next. Is this a story of bridging different worlds? Of existences that are irreconcilable? Or is it simply a snapshot of arms linking for an isolated moment? Any ideas?
________________________
Barefoot Commons (In Progress)
v1
Little black boy
From Roxbury Station
Little white girl
From the high rise on the hill
It's a steamy July
In Downtown Crossing
But the willows cast their shade
On the garden
Chorus
Black hand, white hand
Gripping each other
Dance in circles
Sister and brother
Leaping, glittered splash
Underneath the fountain
Fifteen miles
A world apart
There's plenty of time
For broken hearts
Loosen your laces
At the barefoot Commons
Perched atop my dwarfed desktop is a gleaming iMac quad core with a whopping 27 inches of viewing bliss. I am this Mac's second owner in as many months. Its retail purchaser is a PC user who could not acclimate to the Macintosh interface. As a result, I landed a barely-used workstation with full warranty and free add-ons for hundreds less than I would have paid at an Apple store.
The iMac paced its way through a migration of all my files, still digging digital grooves into the new hard drive when I awoke this morning. During this initial, lengthy data port, the computer goes into full lockdown. Without the option of typing up blog entries, I grabbed ye olde guitar, a sketchbook, a pen, a capo, and a pick.
In a few moments my mind meandered off to the Boston Commons, a magical landscape in the middle of downtown. When winter's jaw loosens its bitter bite, thousands of people emerge from their cocoons to savor a day below the garden's shade trees. A brave few, mostly children, venture their way into a concrete pond, romping with friends, splashing sisters, and chasing brothers. The delicate flutter of laughter slaloms its way through wrought lampposts long before the merry sight comes into view.
As my fingers kept picking away at the strings, I became lost in the faraway place. A fictitious story began to weave itself, and I watched in amazement as the pen began to ink lyrics on the lined page. The song in its halfway-written state sets the scene for a tale about two children from different worlds who experience a moment of shalom under the park's fountain.
The problem: I don't know what have these children do next. Is this a story of bridging different worlds? Of existences that are irreconcilable? Or is it simply a snapshot of arms linking for an isolated moment? Any ideas?
________________________
Barefoot Commons (In Progress)
v1
Little black boy
From Roxbury Station
Little white girl
From the high rise on the hill
It's a steamy July
In Downtown Crossing
But the willows cast their shade
On the garden
Chorus
Black hand, white hand
Gripping each other
Dance in circles
Sister and brother
Leaping, glittered splash
Underneath the fountain
Fifteen miles
A world apart
There's plenty of time
For broken hearts
Loosen your laces
At the barefoot Commons
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Ballpark
I won a couple of tickets to attend a showing of the Universoul Circus, held adjacent to Turner Field, home of the Atlanta Braves. The traveling act takes the traditions of one-ringed schtick and adds multicultural twists and turns, resulting in an energized, beat-driven spectacle. Hip Hop music served as the ritornello of the pulsing evening out, and the people working the sound booth cranked the dials to 11. My ears still ring with aural residue.
My wife and I were two of the three folks under the big top hailing from caucasian backgrounds. Writers interested in culture and ethnicity would have a field day covering this event. This blog, however, is about music - specifically a project of putting music together in the course of a year. I shall focus my comments accordingly.
As we drove the ten miles to the stadium, I had no concept how far out of our everyday ballpark we would be. The experience of being an outsider looking in is entirely positive. I try to find myself in the minority with some regularity; without fail, important life lessons emerge from such situations. With eyes agape and ears perked, I tried my best to push through sensory overload and absorb some of the visual and aural wonder unfolding in front of me. If the arts are like cups of cool water, this event smacked of drinking from a fire hose.
Any notion I have of understanding music is shot to the ground after listening to tonight's songs and sounds. Music is endless, vast, and mysterious. It is folksy and sweet to speak of music as the universal language, but its dialects are numerous and thick with accent. I delight in these possibilities of sound channeling through my ears into my soul. I hope that my music (and I) will never be the same.
My wife and I were two of the three folks under the big top hailing from caucasian backgrounds. Writers interested in culture and ethnicity would have a field day covering this event. This blog, however, is about music - specifically a project of putting music together in the course of a year. I shall focus my comments accordingly.
As we drove the ten miles to the stadium, I had no concept how far out of our everyday ballpark we would be. The experience of being an outsider looking in is entirely positive. I try to find myself in the minority with some regularity; without fail, important life lessons emerge from such situations. With eyes agape and ears perked, I tried my best to push through sensory overload and absorb some of the visual and aural wonder unfolding in front of me. If the arts are like cups of cool water, this event smacked of drinking from a fire hose.
Any notion I have of understanding music is shot to the ground after listening to tonight's songs and sounds. Music is endless, vast, and mysterious. It is folksy and sweet to speak of music as the universal language, but its dialects are numerous and thick with accent. I delight in these possibilities of sound channeling through my ears into my soul. I hope that my music (and I) will never be the same.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Bit of Press
I am thankful to Tony Papia of Gordon College, who recently featured the Redline Project on the school's blog. Tony is employed by Gordon to scour the web for Alumni-related efforts, activities, and projects. I was shocked when he first contacted me about writing the article, mostly because my full name does not yet appear on this blog. Clearly the Google web crawlers are scurrying along, landing searchers in the thick of this content.
Occasionally friends will ask me why I choose to keep this project mostly anonymous. Simply stated, I want the developing timeline of the Redline Project to be relatable. Instead of readers thinking of this musical adventure as my material alone, I hope every artist and creative that lands here will reflect the story onto themselves, considering how they may ignite new efforts and rekindle old ones. May my anonymity foster in you the courage to try something daring, adventurous, risky.
If you choose to link over to the Gordon College blog to peruse the article, please do not let the name and face posted there distance you from your next creative venture. As we look toward those who are already a few steps down the road, our tendency is to see the space between. Be encouraged instead as you have a look around. I am as average as average gets - nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary. Any progress you see in these posts should ready you for action on your next initiative. As the worn but true saying goes, if I can do it, surely you can too.
View the Gordon College blog article here.
Occasionally friends will ask me why I choose to keep this project mostly anonymous. Simply stated, I want the developing timeline of the Redline Project to be relatable. Instead of readers thinking of this musical adventure as my material alone, I hope every artist and creative that lands here will reflect the story onto themselves, considering how they may ignite new efforts and rekindle old ones. May my anonymity foster in you the courage to try something daring, adventurous, risky.
If you choose to link over to the Gordon College blog to peruse the article, please do not let the name and face posted there distance you from your next creative venture. As we look toward those who are already a few steps down the road, our tendency is to see the space between. Be encouraged instead as you have a look around. I am as average as average gets - nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary. Any progress you see in these posts should ready you for action on your next initiative. As the worn but true saying goes, if I can do it, surely you can too.
View the Gordon College blog article here.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Sixth
A stunning bit of truth for me, and probably everyone reading, is that a sixth of 2010 has snuck past. How did that happen?
In many ways, the Redline Project is on track, and perhaps I am even a touch ahead of schedule. The second post on this blog reveals that my goal for February's end was to acquire all gear necessary to complete this effort. Check - mostly.
I have purchased many pieces and borrowed even more, finding myself surrounded with an arsenal of competent, beginner gear. Just today, an upgrade from Logic Express to Logic Studio arrived, which means I will be recording and editing audio on a top notch suite of programs. As a coworker of mine used to interject, "Great giggly wigglies." I also have acquired a mixer that doubles as a firewire audio interface, a midi keyboard, and a direct box for inputting (mostly) clean guitar signals. Sennheiser headphones, a condenser mic, and a gorgeous Guild electric guitar are the most used pieces of borrowed gear.
Still on the wish list is the Melodyne vocal editor and a good pair of studio monitors. The latter I can potentially do without, but my pathetic vocal attempts are begging the powerful Melodyne to touch and to heal. To date then, I have spent $540, just over half my project budget. I have sold around $450 worth of possessions, which leaves me owing $90 to my bank account. Not bad.
The purchase of the software and monitors together will run around $350, and right now that is all I anticipate spending on this project. Looks like I will accomplish at least one of the three goals posted in this blog's header.
Those reading along have undoubtedly noticed a slow-down in the posting of scratch recordings, and with good reason. I have been feverishly plugging away at several audio sketches of songs I hope will end up on the final Redline Project recording. 'Audio sketch' is a term I am using to refer to a fully structured song with imperfect recorded parts. Once I have an understanding of how a song or composition will be arranged, I plan to replace the rough tracks with polished counterparts.
I have five such compositions that are baked to varying degrees. I need to write seven or eight more in the course of the next three and a half months to keep pace with the next deadline. By the end of May, all songs should be written and all audio sketches complete; doable only if I put my feet to the fire and press on.
A reader suggested I locate a widget displaying the number of days left in the project, number of dollars spent, and other related statistics. This is a fantastic idea, and I will search for one tomorrow. In the meantime, I hope this brief synopsis suffices.
In many ways, the Redline Project is on track, and perhaps I am even a touch ahead of schedule. The second post on this blog reveals that my goal for February's end was to acquire all gear necessary to complete this effort. Check - mostly.
I have purchased many pieces and borrowed even more, finding myself surrounded with an arsenal of competent, beginner gear. Just today, an upgrade from Logic Express to Logic Studio arrived, which means I will be recording and editing audio on a top notch suite of programs. As a coworker of mine used to interject, "Great giggly wigglies." I also have acquired a mixer that doubles as a firewire audio interface, a midi keyboard, and a direct box for inputting (mostly) clean guitar signals. Sennheiser headphones, a condenser mic, and a gorgeous Guild electric guitar are the most used pieces of borrowed gear.
Still on the wish list is the Melodyne vocal editor and a good pair of studio monitors. The latter I can potentially do without, but my pathetic vocal attempts are begging the powerful Melodyne to touch and to heal. To date then, I have spent $540, just over half my project budget. I have sold around $450 worth of possessions, which leaves me owing $90 to my bank account. Not bad.
The purchase of the software and monitors together will run around $350, and right now that is all I anticipate spending on this project. Looks like I will accomplish at least one of the three goals posted in this blog's header.
Those reading along have undoubtedly noticed a slow-down in the posting of scratch recordings, and with good reason. I have been feverishly plugging away at several audio sketches of songs I hope will end up on the final Redline Project recording. 'Audio sketch' is a term I am using to refer to a fully structured song with imperfect recorded parts. Once I have an understanding of how a song or composition will be arranged, I plan to replace the rough tracks with polished counterparts.
I have five such compositions that are baked to varying degrees. I need to write seven or eight more in the course of the next three and a half months to keep pace with the next deadline. By the end of May, all songs should be written and all audio sketches complete; doable only if I put my feet to the fire and press on.
A reader suggested I locate a widget displaying the number of days left in the project, number of dollars spent, and other related statistics. This is a fantastic idea, and I will search for one tomorrow. In the meantime, I hope this brief synopsis suffices.
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