Rose-coloured glasses

I feel like a giddy junkie scoring on the sidewalk in broad daylight outside the slammer after 60 days. I’m importing to iTunes the 20 or so CDs that I bought or traded for my own in Nashville but couldn’t listen to there because the disk drive in my laptop was acting wonky the whole time.

I have a funny feeling that my favourite will be Mountain Sea by Desert Noises. I saw them twice and must admit I have a huge crush on this soft-spoken, loud-playin’ four-piece from Utah. I was the guy in the crowd yelling Utah!! Couldn’t contain myself. They are amazing. Like a modern-day beachless Beach Boys at their mature, Pet Sounds best. Only different. In close second will likely be Dead Woman Walkin’ by Megan Jean and the KFB. KFB stands for Klay Family Band, but it could just as easily stand for Kickass Fuckin’ Banjo. Maybe you can get it on iTunes, but don’t. Google them and get yourself a plane ticket. Buy them drinks and a hotel room. This husband-wife duo have been living in their car and touring the good ol’ USA for years, playing 200 shows every 365 days. Calm Byrne plays banjo and electric guitar. Animated Megan Jean plays acoustic guitar, kick drum, hardcore washboard and lungs from somewhere just the other side of Purgatory.

If that plane ticket happens to land you near Nashville, spend Tuesday nights at The Basement. It’s New Faces night, where unknown and occasionally eventually-to-be-massive artists play 15 minutes each with the coveted final act allotted 20 whole luscious minutes. It’s a crap shoot. You may indeed hear crap. But you will hear gold. That’s where I heard Desert Noises and Megan Jean & the KFB. Split your other nights between The Basement and Belcourt Taps where I saw many great country rounds and traveling bands. Let’s not forget the Bluebird and 12th and Porter. Oh, the list of venues is too long. But there are my four favourites.

My friend Gina gives frequent thanks to her friends and the universe in general for what she calls the abundance in her life. Gina is not rich. Not the way you’d normally define it, anyway. But she sees it differently and has helped me see things a little differently too.

I returned home to abundance indeed. A brilliant young local violinist emailed to say he just found an apartment in town and asked when my wrist would be healed enough so we can play together again. Another old friend said she is selling her downtown condo, did I want a deal? I’m considering. I had a great chat with my boss, for whom I’ve been working remotely for the past two months from Nashville via email and Skype. She is in full support of the plan to continue trekking back and forth across the border in search of a Nashville cut. An energetic and melodic young pop-jazz songwriter I met at the Bluebird Café Sunday evening emailed to ask when I’d be south again, maybe we can co-write.

I am in a state of flux. Hovering between the poetic introspective alt-rock songs about uncertainty from my past and the inspiration to write more universal and positive pop and country songs for my future. I’ve been so inspired and touched by several indie rock, country and quirky acts these past two months. I can’t tell which way the weather vane is pointing.

Nothing “big” has happened, but I am a touch drunk with possibility, much of it simply unseen or underappreciated before.

Many thanks to Pauline, Oliver, Gina, Richard, Ashley, the NSAI office gang, Rob, Steve, Rose, Ambra, Roy, Gabe, Jesse, Emma, Rocky. I must be forgetting a few, apologies.

My summer in Nashville wasn’t at all what it was supposed to be. I crashed my bike. Busted my wrist. Broke my heart. Nothing went according to plan. Plan A, that is. 

Look around you, my friends. Put on your rose-coloured glasses. Throw away your other lenses. What good are they anyway?

Look ma, no hands

For the first time in my life, I have written a complete song without once playing a chord or even touching an instrument, or scribbling on paper. Lyrics into MS Word (don't believe everything you read in a headline), melody into iPhone. I look forward to discovering what key it's in!

With all due respect to Messieurs Scaphoid and Radius—and though I eagerly await your return to the lineup—it was quite gratifying indeed.

That's how I roll[ed]

Part of this summer's stay in Nashville was to be about writing songs and playing guitar. Another big part of it was to be weekends roaming around the georgeous winding Tennessee roads on my bike, about which I'm feeling a bit sad and nostalgic right now. I got a call from the appraiser today -- my baby is totaled. :-(

I put over 50,000 km on it in 5 seasons, and the appraiser said he was floored at the gerat condition it was in! Let's see... I've ridden to Sudbury, Lake Superior, North Bay, Montreal, Manitoulan Island, Kingston, New York, Ohio, Michigan, West Virginia, Indiana, Pennsylvania, North Carolina, Kentucky, Tennessee, Vermont, Connecticut, New Hampshire, Muskoka, Algonquin and a zillion points in between. Met some great folks too.  

Bye-bye baby. Ah, some fond memories...

Camping in the Adirondacks. Did some really nice roads around Lake Placid on this trip. Also went to NYC and visited my brother and his fiance on Long Island.

Riding the Tail Of The Dragon from Tennessee into North Carolina. What an amazing road. The first time I rode it was after a long day of delays coming from Knoxville. I pulled into the Deals Gap campsite late at night, very happy to be greeted by a few Harley boys offering me a cold beer at their picnic table. I said "Man, I don't know if I've got the nerve to ride the Dragon if it's any curvier that that." One fella said "Which way'd you come from?" I pointed up the hill and they all let out big laughs, "Son, you just rode the Dragon in the dark!"

Just a glimpse at the awesomeness of the Dragon on the GPS. You should see it zoomed in. Or, better yet, through a visor!

With my old musical pal Jess in West Virginia. She and her man Dan were nice enough then to give me a bedroom and get me a set at the local music mecca. And after many years apart, she facebooked to offer help after the crash. Lovely people.

My mom ready for her first ever motorcycle ride, the day I took it out of storage in April 2009. Oh what a chilly ride it was! She hopped off all giggly saying "Okay, I can see the appeal now."

Tickled pink. I believe this is day 2 of riding the Dragon and other roads around the area in 2010.

Last summer, fiddler Bourton Scott and I strapped our instruments and camping gear on our bikes for a zig-zag music tour around Ontario that accumulated far more miles than cover charges, tips or CD sales. But that was kind of the point, really. What a blast!

Camping with dear friends Mike and Lauren somewhere in northeastern Ontario in October! Arrived late and freezing to be warmed up with a wicked roasted salmon supper and tunes around the campfire. Good times indeed.

Pulling Granny from the flames

As I've mentioned before, one of the great things about being a member of NSAI is the song evaluation service by pro writers. You get 12 online and 2 in-person a year with the membership, and I'm pretty sure you can buy more if you want. 

I don't want to give away any of the lyrics, but as an example of the kind of feedback you can get, here's an evaluation I got on July 2.

Evaluator feedback

FORM

• V / V / PRE / C / V / PRE / C / INST / PRE / C

SUGGESTIONS

• Edit down your chorus by 2 lines
• Only do 1 verse at the top of the song
• Don’t do the pre chorus after the instrumental break. Consider writing lyrics for the break and turning it into a bridge. Then go straight into the final chorus
• So: V / C / V / C / B / C or V / C / V / C / INST / C

TITLE/HOOK

• It’s a good hook. I suggest you don’t give it away in the verse. Save it for the chorus.

LYRIC

• You have a lot of good lines and images and it’s a good sentiment. In general it works well. Perhaps it would have more impact if you were more defined about who you are talking to. It could be your listeners, and that’s fine, but if you can put more of yourself in this, it would have more impact. You basically say the same kinds of things through out the song, so there’s room for different angles and other aspects of the subject that would be less redundant.

OVERALL IDEA

• This is a good theme. I hear this more for the Folk/Americana market.

MELODY/METER

• This is very melodic. The lift towards the end of the chorus works really well, but I suggest you have it come in 2 lines sooner and do the edit I suggested above.

CLOSING COMMENT

• This can use some tweaking, but it’s very cool. Off hand, I can’t think of any artists that would cut this, only because I hear this more for you as an artist, and other artists that would do this kind of thing, usually write their own songs.

What I did with it

After a week of feeling pretty sad and rudderless following the motorcycle accident, on Saturday morning, I got my sorry ass out of bed and went to Bosco’s in Hillsboro village for lunch. There are 3 other café/brunch spots on the block but they all had insane line-ups. So I went to Boscos. And it turned out to be the perfect place for what I had in mind. It’s bigger and quieter that the other spots, so better for me to think straight. They don’t have any breaky grub, but they’ve got a wicked lunch menu. 

I ordered the grilled chicken breast sandwich: soy and pineapple marinated chicken breast grilled and topped with fontina cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, and basil mayonnaise. Then I pulled out the computer and opened a PDF of the song feedback and a Word doc of the lyrics.

The core idea behind the song is about looking forward to your dreams in a positive way – and I think I put a nice little lyrical spin on it in the hook. Still, I was a bit anxious about the hook/title when submitting the song, because it’s a bit a mellow and mushy. Also, there's a fine line to walk when putting a twist on a familiar phrase or notion. The hook worked for me, but I didn’t know how it would hold up under someone else's scrutiny.

So, I was really happy to read “It’s a good hook. I suggest you don’t give it away in the verse.” I had the hook lyric starting each verse as well as the start and end of the chorus. I was on the fence about that before I submitted it for evaluation, and I’d already been through two or three major re-writes of the song. Again an interesting example of pro feedback in line with a weird feeling I’d had in my gut. I need to stop second-guessing my gut. I keep telling myself that, but it seems I'm not always listening. The same could be said for situations outside writing... Thankfully, that's not what this blog is about!

VERSES
It was easy enough to edit the hook out of the verses, which were structured like this:

Hook line
Rhyme A
Rhyme A
Rhyme A
Rhyme B

Getting rid of the hook intro quickly shortened and evened things out. Before it was like each verse had a prologue, as if I was telegraphing a pass across center ice. Now I just get down to the business of sliding the puck ahead. I haven’t edited the demo yet, but each verse is 1 or 2 bars shorter, depending on the edit, and therefore 3-6 seconds shorter, depending on what comes before it (ie: intro vs chorus).

For the time being, I haven't cut from 2 to 1 verse at the beginning. Here’s my thinking so far on that: In the original, the prechorus started at 0:30 and the chorus at 0:42. The verses move much quicker now since the ‘prologue’ is out of the way and because the other lines are pretty short (7 syllables in lines 1-3 and 5 syllables in line 4). After the edits, the chorus will still start around 0:36. And I feel like V2 really adds a nice depth to the idea. So I kept it.

Next, I considered this comment: “Perhaps it would have more impact if you were more defined about who you are talking to. It could be your listeners, and that’s fine, but if you can put more of yourself in this, it would have more impact. You basically say the same kinds of things through out the song, so there’s room for different angles and other aspects of the subject…”

This was totally accurate. I had a bunch of nice ways of saying very similar things. So I needed to decide which said it best, then come up with something more to add. The ‘who’ was a bit tricky. In reality, when I wrote the song, I was pep talking myself, but also thinking of language that a couple of friends use for positive thinking and imagining them giving me the advice.

I ended up trashing V3 and V4, and writing a new V3 that adds another layer to the concept as well as suggesting a relationship between singer and listener.

I know, this is all really abstract without being able to read the lyrics. How about this: before, I had three verses that described fire engines. Now I’ve got verses that describe the fire engine, the guys on it, and the granny they pull from the flames. 

CHORUS
The old chorus rhyme scheme was A A, B B, C C, but with the singing pauses in there, it actually sounds more like this:

Lead-in phrase
End rhyme A
Lead-in phrase
End rhyme A
Lead-in phrase
End rhyme B
Lead-in phrase
End rhyme B
Climb-out rhyme C
Into hook rhyme C

Oy. That looks complex, and I know what the real lyrics are. So your head’s probably spinning! I took the advice to shorten and simplify. Now it looks more like this:

Lead in phrase
End rhyme A
Lead in phrase
End rhyme A
Lead in phrase
End rhyme A
Climb out rhyme B
Into hook rhyme B

Which is essentially a 4-line chorus instead of a 5-line chorus. What the heck was I thinking?

Not only did I delete lines, but I edited the ones that remained, so they do all the work of the old chorus, plus a nice extra nugget from an old verse that got cut.

BRIDGE
I took the existing melody of the instrumental break, combined it with some edited lines from old V4 and presto: bridge.

RECAP
Now the structure is this:

    V / V / PRE / C / V / PRE / C / B / C

Instead of this:

    V / V / PRE / C / V / PRE / C / INST / PRE / C

All the parts are shorter now, and they build on each other, instead of reiterating the same idea. Truck, firemen, granny instead of truck, truck, truck.

Something else interesting is that this is the first time in my 20 something years writing that I worked on lyrics without picking up a guitar to try them out. The guitar’s absence forced me to focus and be more efficient with my time. Of course, it was a bitter-sweet evolution, since the catalyst is the cast on my fret hand. But it was definitely a good lesson in editing and focus.

I tried playing guitar today. If I hold it like a cello, I can strum high on the neck like a vertical Johnny Cash and fret G and C. But even I don’t have a chord progression that simple. So the guitar wasn’t out of the case for very long.

But the song is stronger now, and that’s what matters for this post.

ML

Always read the fine print

Honestly, I have no recollection of discussing this with anyone at the hospital:

ER Physician Report, 1 July 2012

The "new" one is a distal radius fracture. I'm of course assuming that the cast will do the trick for that too, a convenient two-for-one deal. But I'm still curious. I see more phone tag with Cincinnati in my near future. 

The Scaphoid Blues

The last time I stepped foot in Nashville, it was off a plane and into the arms of a beautiful woman who made my heart sing. Today’s arrival was a lot different.

First, there were no open arms, and I stepped out of the passenger side of a Mercury sedan. Not off a plane and definitely not off the seat of my Suzuki V-Strom as planned. My poor injured bike is currently caged at a wrecking yard in Cincinnati, its fate to be determined by the folks at Jevco Insurance. I’m hoping with all my heart that they will cover shipment back to Canada because I can’t afford to ship it back myself and I won’t be able to ride it in the next two months. It doesn’t run and needs a little work to be road worthy again. Plus there’s the wee issue of the cast on my left arm that poses some problems for squeezing the clutch and holding on in general.

My last post said that the wrist wasn’t broken. I wrote that Saturday night. But Sunday morning, I got a call from the hospital saying another radiologist had looked at the x-ray at it was indeed broken ­– a fractured scaphoid.

Dr. Hoover at University of Cincinnati Hospital’s hand orthopedic clinic was awesome (actually, everybody in the clinic was awesome) at my follow-up on Tuesday. If you bust your hand, go see him. We sat down in one of those usual little exam rooms with the white medical cupboards, ancient faded bone illustrations on the walls, and the exam bench with stainless steel stirrups and all that jazz.

Doc H started the whole thing by saying “I think the ER folks gave you a bit of a scare on Sunday and, although their hearts were in the right place, there really isn’t that much need to worry in this case.” Then he pulled out his pen. You know that roll of paper they pull down over the bench for each new patient to sit on? He drew a nice big diagram of the scaphoid bone on it. I wish I’d kept it; the pic below is borrowed. Hopefully I’ll recall the details properly.

Image source: http://www.mlrehabpt.com/?page=library&list=wrist&article=42#article_top

The scaphoid is kind of bean shaped. Blood flow comes in through the narrow end, so fractures around there usually heal quite well and he hardly ever operates for them. The fat end doesn’t get great circulation, so fractures there tend to cause problems and he often operates there. Other fractures across the middle “waistline” can heal on their own or require surgery. It mostly depends on how well the two pieces of bone are aligned. If they’re displaced, then a screw is needed to pull them back together. But if they’re still well aligned, then they usually heal just fine on their own in a cast.

The two pieces of my scaphoid were perfectly aligned in the Saturday x-rays, and still A-OK in the new x-rays on Tuesday. Doc H said there was a 90-95% chance, probably more like 95%, that my fracture would heal.

This was a massive relief. I told him how stressed I’d been about the possibility of surgery because it meant I’d have to end the trip right there and head back to Canada. I had no idea what the insurance or US cost implications would be, plus I’d like to have ongoing post-op access to the surgeon who did the job. Mostly, it was the fear of $$$.

Why was I so impressed with Dr. Hoover? Aside from the modern art, of course... Because he said things like “Listen, this is my absolute favourite operation, so if there was any reasonable argument for doing it, I’d have you in there right now” and “If it were me, I’d get the cast and go to Nashville. In the off chance it doesn’t heal you can always get the surgery later in Canada and you won’t miss any of the great experiences that lie ahead of you on this trip. But I don’t think you need to worry about the surgery anyway.”

Therefore, I am now in Nashville, from where my friends Pauline and Oliver drove last night, arriving in Cincinnati at 1:05 AM. I had a room waiting for them and we met (amid a sea of excited and very snazzily dressed Chinese choir girls in town for the World Choir Games) over breakfast which I am willing to bet, at the Hampton Inn & Suites on Vine Street, is the biggest and bestest free breakfast at any hotel in North America. They also give discounts to hospital patients and all the staff are wicked friendly and sweet.

We talked for over an hour before loading the car and then talked for five or so more on the road. I had my first Cracker Barrel meal, great chicken pot pie. I had to wrestle Oliver away from the restaurant bill and again away from the gas pump so I could contribute something. After all, they were spending over nine hours driving, half of which was on their 4th of July holiday, to rescue me and my bikeless bike gear from the lovely, I’m sure, but lonely pit stop of Cincinnati.

I can’t thank them enough.

Cincinnati: it’s a hard road

People often talk to me in parking lots when I’m by the bike and say things like “Man you must really be cooking in that leather jacket in this heat.” True, it can be sweltering. Luckily, being a writer, I have devised a clever little catchphrase to summarize my philosophy: “I dress for crashin’, not for fashion” (say it out loud -- it sounds better than it looks). Today however, it was so hot that after about four hours on the road, I couldn’t bear it any more and decided to take a little hiatus from the philosophy. What are the odds? One hour in shirt sleeves won’t kill me. I’ll be careful. It’ll be fine. So I pulled into Cincinnati to find a pharmacy and get some sunscreen. A bottle of spf 100. After all, if I was gonna be dumb, then was gonna be smart about it. So I lathered a thick white layer of sunscreen onto my arms and neck, wrapped the leather jacket around the guitar and bungeed it all down nice and snug. I gotta tell ya, it was still effin’ hot. But I was looking forward to the cool highway breeze.

Then, about 5 minutes after taking the jacket off, I wiped out. I kid you not. Five minutes, tops. Were the powers that be saying, “Son, best not take that on-ramp.”?

It was on a wet bridge, construction zone, tight traffic. The truck in front of me jammed on its brakes. I put mine on and tried to steer it away to one side. But I fishtailed on the wet road and went flying off the bike. Exact sequence of events is a bit foggy, but I heard the bike scraping as [I think] I was in the air. What a mournful, horrible sound. My poor baby. Then I noticed vibrations and a similar deep grinding noise amplified all around my head. Noticed a very extreme close-up 3D-ish kind of concrete looking surface scraping at the other side of my visor. Hmm, oh, I guess that’s the road. My left hand was out, palm down hard on the road – still handily wrapped in its leather motorcycle glove. Luckily, I hadn't thrown all caution to the wind... My right arm skidded along on the very fashionable but leatherless forearm before buckling under, thankfully without any wonky twists or snaps. Just some good ol’ fashioned road rash.

When I came to a stop, I just lay there for a few minutes, kind of absorbing the pain in my left wrist and holding onto it with my other hand. There was also a bit of a process rolling through my head, going through what parts hurt and what parts didn’t. What parts moved, what parts didn’t. I was extremely happy when that last list came up empty. Then I noticed a woman’s voice off in the distance. I wear earplugs for the wind noise, so she sounded farther away… she was kneeling right beside my head, talking to me in between sentences to her cell phone. Uh-oh. That’s when I really realized what had happened. I mean, I never lost consciousness but, you know, sometimes when things happen fast, you just need a few seconds to put the whole picture together. In this case, the picture was me lying in the road with a lady calling 911. Awesome.

It took me a couple of tries to sit up straight. My wrist was throbbing like an sob and then all I could think about was that I can't ride my motorcycle and I can’t play guitar, that the whole summer trip is ruined.

But of course it could have been much worse.

So… I am thankful that I am not dead, even more so that I am not maimed or broken, that my x-rays were negative, that my right arm is just scraped and quite able to do most of the work on this blog post, that my guitar is in one piece (albeit with a cracked soundboard). I’m thankful to the lady who got out and stuck around, though your name did not stick with me, sorry. I’m thankful for the two fellows who helped me lift the bike up and roll it out of the way so traffic could get moving again. I’m thankful to the Cincinnati police, fire and ambulance lads who all arrived lickity split to make sure I was okay. I’m thankful for all the great smiling faces and silly senses of humour at The University Hospital ER who reminded me very much of St. John’s.

I can’t really say for sure that the trip is ruined. But it will be a lot different than planned. Certainly with far less guitar playing or motorcycle riding than I was counting on. It’ll take a week or so to get a handle on how little of those activities there will actually be. I was reminded on the phone by a friend a couple hours ago that I will just have to spend the first month focused on lyrics, not music, and on meeting people rather than playing open stages. And those are not bad things. At the moment, I'm still feeling sad but, like I said, it could be worse.

So, I’m temporarily stranded in Cincinnati. I’ll go see the bike at the garage in the morning. Please say a prayer or cross your fingers or send light or however you like to describe your sending of hopeful vibes. Monday is a holiday in Canada, so I likely won’t hear back from my insurance company until Tuesday. Not sure if I’ll stay here or head to Nashville somehow and deal with the bike later. Will think more about that tomorrow.

But now I must get some sleep in a not-so-fancy bed at this hotel, which I take thankfully instead of the fancier one at the hospital.