Everyone knows that the best place to hear and play live music is in a hotel breakout room next to a larger conference room.
This is, of course, not true. But what can happen in these un-acoustically treated sterile environments is fantastic listening and performing experiences created by the people IN these rooms.
The Far-West Music Conference was held this year in the Woodland Hills Marriot. I arrived on Thursday afternoon and with this being my second time there, bumped into people I knew immediately – it’s that kind of community.
For a long time, I thought the Far-West and folk world was too far removed from what I did, I mean, I’m a rock guy. Yeah, I play a lot of acoustic guitar but there’s always a little bit of that punk coming through. Maybe it’s an age thing or maybe it’s me playing even more acoustic than ever before and so many house concerts and unplugged type of things but it started to feel more home than some other events. I’ve always had a bit of that
troubadour/storyteller thing in me and maybe it’s just the natural progression of things, I don’t know, but I’m definitely becoming more comfortable in the musical skin I inhabit.
Last year’s conference also convinced me that my friends in The Odd Birds should really come to this event. I love their music and I know that they also struggle at times to know where they fit in in the 21st century musical landscape.
The first act I see on Thursday night is Mariachi Continental de San Diego and I’m blown away. I’ve always wanted to be in a Mariachi band* and while I’m watching them and listening – I start counting the microphones on stage. Sixteen mics on stage. There are four violinists, two trumpets, guitars and singers everywhere and they are swapping positions, swapping lead vocals on the same microphone – there is choreography amongst the band for different songs and I look over at the two guys, Ian and David, that are doing sound and they are just switching and sliding the faders. I did not envy them on this. If you don’t understand what’s happening – sound check happens so you can figure out how loud to turn up a specific microphone for a specific performer. With this band switching spots and positions while the microphones stay in the same place, this is pandemonium for a sound person and from where I was sitting, it sounded amazing. Kudos to the soundmen.
After them I’m sort of wandering in and out and checking out different acts. The Prickly Pair put on a fantastic show and I return in time to catch Heather Lomax who is joined by the amazing Barrett Tagliarino on guitar too. You can’t go wrong when that dude is playing guitar with you.
Now the “Official” showcases run from 6:30 to 9:30. Then there is a break and the “Un-Official” showcases go from 10:00 to about 2 am. I love this but it is a lot. And yeah, I mean staying awake. The talent is great in all the rooms but I’m fading in and out. I saw music this night but I can’t remember who or what it was. I do remember there being snacks in the Mother Hen room and seeing my friend Azere Wilson running the show in there.
Friday:
The first panel I’m going to is about Booking and What gigs are out there. I mean, I do a lot of booking already but it’s always great to learn new things or be reminded of things that you forgot or just to think about it differently and I definitely got all of that. At the same time as this panel was running was The Feminine Collective panel and a panel on touring on a shoestring budget. I would’ve liked to have gone to both of those as well but there is only one of me and touring on a shoestring budget, while I didn’t go to the class – I do feel like I live that class quite a bit. Would’ve been nice to see where I could improve but didn’t.
After lunch I went to another class about building your music career and got some good ideas there too.
Sometimes these things feel so…against the grain of why I became a musician. It would be great if all I had to do was write/record music, perform and tour but you can’t JUST do that anymore. I mean, recording is so expensive – so I learned how to do that. Then I had to learn how to book shows and tours. Then I had to learn how to distribute my music. Then I had to learn how to do graphic design (to an extent) to make posters and things look pretty and then and then and then and then and then social media. The hardest bit about it all is that you can’t just learn a thing and be done. Whatever you learn is just what is passing you by right now. Tomorrow there is some new platform, some new video thing, some new algorithm, some new SOMETHING. And it is always more learning.
To be clear, I’m not opposed to learning and change but what I’m saying is – it is always learning and change. All. The. Time. That is exhausting.
And it is always learning and change that has nothing to do with the creation of music or songwriting. That stuff changes too but this is all marketing and promo that we have to keep doing just to keep our heads occasionally above water.
The official showcases kick off and I think I’m taking a nap when they do but I get down to the main stage and as I’m sitting there a six-foot dude in a nice suit sits down next to me. I tell him that it looks like he forgot his shoes. He laughs as he takes out his guitar and that’s how I meet Ron Artis II. On stage right now is The Two Tracks and their sound is definitely country but with the twist of one of the singers also playing cello – while standing up! *** And where country fiddle is definitely a thing, I don’t know if you could classify cello playing in a way of like violin/fiddle playing. Would it be cello/fello? I don’t know. I’m not a wordsmith. In any case I dig their stuff and at times almost leans into a jam-band-country vibe.
Then Ron Artis II takes the stage and just own the room with his voice and barely playing guitar. ** He gets everyone singing along with every one of his songs. He is one of those performers that you kind of hate because he makes it look as simple as breathing. It’s not jealousy that I feel while watching him, it’s fascination. I’m a new fan of Ron Artis II.
After the Official showcases end, I go get my guitar as I have three un-official showcases myself tonight at 10:15, 11:00 and 1:00. And I am really loving performing with no PA, just straight up busker style. I can’t say for sure but it feels better. I feel like I sing better as well. Singing into a mic is such a different beast and one that I only occasionally conquer.
I start in Brett Perkins' listening room and have a pretty good set and talk to some folks afterward before boogieing to my next set at Far-West Campfire by Deb Ewing and I have another good set and I’m bouncing between rooms. I get to hear Zoe FitzGerald Carter for the second time and she sounds fantastic. The Odd Birds sound great as always and I’m happy that folks are digging them too. By the time I get to my Mother Hen show at 1 am – I’m again on fumes. It is literally SO MUCH Music. I love it but my brain is full. I actually plug into the small amp at Mother Hen and have fun with my loop pedal but that’s the only time it came out. This is new to do so much without any amplification and I really dig it.
I talk to some folks about coming and playing their festival in Seldovia, Alaska and that sounds so far away. I mean, it’s closer than Europe but somehow further away still.
Sleep comes easy.
Saturday:
As I’m eating breakfast, Mike, stage manager/M.C., comes up to me, drops a roll of gaff tape down on the table and says “I’m guessing you know how to gaff down cables.” Or something like that. He is not wrong. I took Gaff 101 at Videocam back when I as an A1. I’ve been enlisted into tech work. It happens everywhere. It’s probably why I feel more at home talking to the sound crew at gigs. **** I tape off the cords and light cable in the Grand Foyer so no one trips on them. *****
After that I go to the Vocal Masterclass for Songwriters and I feel like I can never get enough good information in this category. Lots of breathing exercises and I leave just before it’s over to go do another un-official showcase in the grand foyer area where I don’t even plug into the Fishman loudbox and I still get told I’m too loud. Story of my life.
The lunchtime luncheon thingy features the incredible James Lee Stanley introducing the other incredible Laurence Juber. It’s a short musical history lesson by James and then a completely mind-blowing acoustic performance by Lawrence with him finishing with an instrumental acoustic version of The Who’s “won’t get fooled again” that nearly hurts my brain just trying to comprehend the parts he’s playing. He played every part except for Roger’s scream.
I’m starting to get nervous for my Official Showcase this evening. I don’t typically get nervous, per se, about performing but there’s something about watching a lot of really talented folks take the stage before you and then know that you have to follow them. I’m comfortable in my skin and I know what I do and all that but I’ve also built up this show a bit in my head. These are really great, nice and supportive folks. I don’t want to muck it up.
Soundcheck is at 5 pm, I go in, plug in, they set me up with a great $700 Neumann microphone, we dial it in. I play first verse and chorus of “Massachusetts” and I’m good to go. I stop and tell them it’s great. We all laugh because I think I may have just won the “easiest soundcheck of the weekend” award. I put my guitar on a stand and go get dinner.
Fox and Bones is on before me and they are great, fantastic playing and crowd interaction. Ok, I’m ready to go. Sound is still great on stage; I tune my guitar and all is good. First song goes off easily. Towards the end of the song my guitar gets significantly quieter in the monitors. I’m used to this. Sometimes I play harder than I mean to and they had to adjust the gain. EZ-PZ. I tell a story about my next song and as I start, I am way out of tune. I take a second and fix it and then play the song. Before I hit the first chorus it’s gone out of tune again and then it comes back full in the monitors. It’s not the sound guys adjusting levels, my cord is cutting in and out. I give it a wiggle and it comes back and then off again.
Jesus Christ. Is it too much to ask to have a god damn guitar cable work? I can’t even blame anyone else – it’s my cable and its sort of new. It’s not damaged – but it’s going to be soon. My guitar drifts out of tune more and I finish up the song. I take the capo off and re-tune. My G and D strings have gone down almost a full step. As I’m introducing the third song, I’m told I only have 5 minutes left. Dammit. Too much stories, too much tuning – I’m losing out on my 4th song. Launching into my last song my low E string goes slack and the A is also out. The tighter I try to hold onto it, the more it slips away from me. I finish up the song by going single notes for the last chorus because no chords will sound close enough to anything listenable.
I’m struggling to maintain my composure and as I’m hitting the last chord to end the song I reach down and grab the D and G strings and just rip them off my guitar. You know, like all folk singers do. ******
Off stage people are generous towards me about my set but I just know I chunked it. I go out to the foyer area and text Tracy; “I just ruined my career.” She’s very nice and says she’s sure it wasn’t that bad. Am I being a little over-dramatic? Maybe. But I’m really overpowered by frustration at myself. I’m allowed once in a while to be a little dramatic.
Someone comes up to me and says they enjoyed the show. I thank her graciously and she follows up with “You know, it’s all been very polished so far. You were like a breath of fresh air.” And I KNOW it’s a compliment but I was so going for polished. I tried to dial back a little bit of my aggressive playing to suit the moment. Someone else comes up and says “When you hit your first chord, I knew we had a rocker in our midst.” And these are all compliments but all my brain is hearing is “you stuck out like a sore thumb”. Another dude comes up and asks “Did you just rip the strings off of your guitar?” “Only two of them.” “Like, how did you do that?” “Frustration?”
I go back inside and catch the end of Grover Anderson's set and as I’m sitting down Mike comes back over to me; “Can you do one more song?” “What?” “Can you play one more song?” “Yeah, of course. When?” “Now!” I look over at my guitar with it’s two broken strings and say “Ok.” David, the soundman, looks slightly uneasy. It is messing up his flow of saved settings on the PA for the acts. I turn to him and say “I can do it unplugged if that’s easier.” “Yes.”
“Can you get me a guitar?” I ask Mike. “Mine has two broken strings.” And as he runs off, I open my case, break out the backup strings and clippers and by the time Mike returns with someone else’s guitar – I’ve changed both broken strings in about 45 seconds. Possibly a personal best on time for me.
Up on stage they have set up a single Ear Trumpet Labs microphone for me and as I strum my guitar, I can hear how it is filling the room and my voice too. One microphone is picking it all up. This is old technique with new technology is all new to me. And with that I do the best performance I can and it goes off great.
All the self-hatred I had 5 minutes ago is washed away with a single song. I mean, I still sucked earlier but at least I can hold my head high for bouncing back.
A few things all kind of came together for this. The first is that the show was running ahead of schedule and the band that was scheduled for next wasn’t there yet because that’s how ahead it was. The second thing is that I was there, ready and able to go in a moment’s notice. And the third was that I think Mike wanted me to do well and gave me a second chance for redemption.
I mean, maybe I was just right place right time but the feeling I got was – get back up there, do your thing, we’re behind you. And *that* is empowering.
Out in the Foyer folks are buying cds, I give away some of the promo ones I have, sell a couple of vinyl as well and keep talking to folks and I think this second performance has saved me. I showed I could do my rock/folk/whatever thing in the first bit and played through technical crap and then I came back and did a fairly polished (for me) performance. I never want to just be one thing; I always want to be the utility infielder with a good bat.
I am enjoying chatting to folks all night. Sarah from Fox and Bones******* is wearing my t-shirt, another person comes up to show me pictures of her cat because she looks like Lena on the back cover of my album. And then I go hear The Odd Birds in Brett’s room
The end of the night comes and talking to Ron and Jen (Odd Birds) we decide it’s too late, we have to sleep. I stay up for a while longer and catch Amelia Hogan in Brett’s room and I love her Irish-y folk with harp and bodhran. Holy crap so much great music how can I sleep?
For some reason I think the hotel bar might be open but when I get there it is long closed but Ron and Jennifer are sittin sitting with Azere and (my now friend) Zoe. Ron and Jen are drinking Malbec out of a can. I go buy myself a can of malbec out of the chilled fridge by the front desk. It’s all class from here on out as the rest of the night devolves into a laugh fest of late-night college radio proportions as we’re joined by more great singer/songwriters Steve and Kristi Nebel. Some time around 2 am Azere excuses herself because she has to clean up the Mother Hen Promotions listening room.
My buddy Melvern Taylor sings a song about screw top wine and gas station roses. I feel like I might have to write one about canned, chilled malbec from Argentina.
You can clink your glass and drink to your health
but our dreams won’t break when our wine cans melt.
(first attempt)
Zoe suggests we go help Azere clean up the room by suggesting there may still be snacks left over. More hijinks ensue and the bag of chocolate covered peanut butter pretzels from Trader Joe’s are nearly all gone by the time we’re done.
Sleep, again, comes easily.
Saturday: