Meaning (lost-&-found home recording #2)

continued from Trust (lost-&-found home recording #1)

MEANING
1.X
2.marching drum/blue yarn mallet/ev cardinal/grace
3.marching drum/blue yarn mallet/ev cardinal/grace
4.snare on bad wood tambo-red tip stick/shure sm57 /grace
5.blue cylinder/ev cardinal/grace
6.penguin tambo/ev cardinal/grace
7.ebow-harmony hollywood2/standard/eh mel9-flute-sustain=9, attack=noon-effect=max/direct
8.ebow-harmony hollywood2/standard/dry/ direct
9.ebow-harmony hollywood2/standard/eh mel9-flute-sustain=9, attack=noon-effect=max/direct
10.ebow-harmony hollywood2/standard/dry/direct
11.fender rhodes piano bass/direct-roots
12.wurlitzer electric piano/shure sm57/grace-full chords-2
13.vocal-verse/rode nt1a/grace
14.vocal-chorus/rode nt1a/grace
15.vocal-harmony/rode nt1a/grace
16.danelectro baritone-g/direct
17.danelectro baritone-g/direct
18.harmony rocket/standard/dry/direct-a & d strings
19.harmony rocket/standard/eh b9-cathedral/direct-a & d strings
20.harmony rocket/standard/dry/direct-d & g strings
21.harmony rocket/standard/eh b9-cathedral/direct-d & g strings
22.X
23.X
24.vocal-chorus double/rode nt1a/grace

G G Am C
Am C Em D Am C

Meaning was written 2013 or 14. I was staying on top of Electro-Harmonix pedals when they released these beauts. 

The basic layout for Meaning was home-recorded in 2014 using, among other things, the B9 pedal, then the Mel9 effects were added as soon as that pedal came out in 2016. The various settings work differently depending on which guitar they’re plugged into. I used the cathedral setting on the B9 (tracks 18-21) because it sounded the most like a Farfisa organ & I could play the idea better on guitar anyway: in this case, a Harmony Rocket that I sold off not long after. Also, I didn't have a Farfisa . . .

I’m just more of a Harmony Hollywood guy anyway, I guess. It’s my go-to guitar. I used a Hollywood on tracks 7-10 (known as “hollywood2”) with an eBow (I’ll go off on those rascals in an upcoming post) through the Mel9 on the flute setting. 

I have three Hollywoods actually: one was my main touring guitar for twenty-five years that I retired from the road after I got a second one which I use now. There’s a third one in the repair pile with some loose knobs I need to have a gentle luthier fix up one of these days. 

I had a plan for a while to take all three Hollywoods on the road with different tuning or effects setups (also using a Harmony 420 amp & Harmony nylon string). One might assume that I like Harmonys — please do. The electrics just have amazing pickups, but also thick necks like an acoustic. They even sound cool without an amp, just plugged direct to a board, & hold strange tunings well. Also, I’ve picked these up when they’re in the $200-300 range, which is great because then they’re not worth enough to selloff when things get tight. I’ve met a few musicians along the way who love Hollywoods, too — it’s a deep connection . . . I use flatwound strings on mine to get a nice low-end that’s optimal for solo performances. Nothing precious about them — I’ve done reglue jobs on mine without fear. I’ll get more into Harmonys in another future audio post as well (about cassette demos I made in 1997 for my album Since) where I used an acoustic plectrum version that I strung upside down. 

Track 4 features a “snare on bad wood tambo” meaning a tambo that has lost more teeth than I have — I think . . . but I throw nothing away. Sometimes junk is the best option. 

I also still have most of my teeth that’ve been pulled in the last ten years. Everything will eventually find its use. I almost used them for EXTRACTIONS artwork, but it was kinda creepy. Plus, I had that giant dental office plastic tooth children's stool that I’d found in a thrift store & which I’d already photographed. It seemed like a more artistic option, probably meaning lazy inspiration. 

Teeth are kind of a thing with me. I broke a bunch in front when I was ten, riding my bicycle to a sporting goods store to buy my first jock strap for Little League. The accident meant that I didn’t have to play baseball — which I didn’t want to anyway — but also meant that I wouldn't have to wear a jock strap for a few more years until I got roped into high school football briefly. I don’t know if technology has changed for jock straps since then, but for those who have to endure them, I hope so. I remember wearing it felt like they were made from some sort of barbaric twine/wool amalgam . . . 

Anyway, let’s head back towards the music: 

(Okay, one more tooth thing first:) Twenty years after the bike accident, I moved into a house in San Francisco with a boring fence in front. A friend called & said they’d moved into a new place themselves & found mason jars of human teeth in the basement — supposedly rented previously by a dental student (I hope . . .) — & so, of course, this friend thought of me & my tooth thing & offered the jars. I glued them to my fence tops with liquid nails like little war tiaras. They’re featured on the cover of my first album Bloomed.

The “penguin tambo” on track 6 may be my longest surviving instrument. I picked it up at the San Francisco Zoo when I was in my twenties. I used to go to the zoo alone & wander around & think. I even considered working there at some point, in a concession booth or something — can't remember — just so I could go there more, but it probably would’ve ruined the meditative effect. I think I may’ve even had a member pass for frequent visitors. 

I stopped going when I hit the road after my first album. The world became my zoo. 

Last tambo story: When I was touring for my second album Devotion & Doubt, I did a one-night trio gig in Chicago sharing the bill with Califone. At the next night’s club, I realized that we’d accidentally packed up one of their tambourines. About ten years later, they were playing in Brooklyn when I was living there. I brought it with me to the show & returned it with an apology. 

&, yeah, the pounded drum on this song: a metal marching drum that arrived with a UPS dent & came with a strap in case I joined a marching band. I haven’t — yet — so I just bang it standing still. 

A final thought about this series: many of the songs on these lost-&-found home recordings were theoretically attempted using as little actual guitar strumming as possible, but I rarely got away with it. This song arrangement was an exception that let me do that, though. 

Nothing against strumming . . . 

. . . curiosity just calls sometimes for over-focusing on fleeting objectives. . . 

. . . a call to stay aloof from yourself. . .

. . . behind a fence of your own . . .

Meaning (lost-&-found home recording #2):

Nothing is mine. 

You read it to me, tearing a page loose from the evening descending upon the drummed-up, veiled off with the bells cornered into ringing, "Is that all you've got?”. 

We've seen what's awakened almost rehearsed, then forgotten, nowhere. 

Take what you want. 

It never returns. 

Hearing us out, verses were lifted back to the night reciting all the reasons for finding that place torn at the edges, removing the words from the power that comes written away and misunderstood, ending aloud sounding so distant, striking too close to hide from the meaning.

Next in this series is Allegiance (lost-&-found home recording #3)