The phrase "Go to the ant, you lazybones" is from Proverbs 6:6. I don't remember which translation. I have a memory of Jennifer suggesting this as a title to me as we were sitting on an airplane. I don't know if this is true or not. Certainly, Jennifer is better versed in the Bible than I am and more likely to be the one reading the Bible on an airplane.
At that time, I was reading a lot of C.S. Lewis, which sort of embarrasses me to think about now. I guess we all have our faults. To be honest, I read two Narnia books, found a third one impossible to finish, started and gave up on one of his science fiction novels and read at at Chinese buffet one of his other books. The reason I was reading all of this Lewis was I'd tried to read the Lord of Rings and absolutely hated it. I had to stop after the first volume. I remembered liking The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe when I was a child, so I decided to read those book instead. I started with The Magician's Nephew, which I did enjoy, but couldn't couldn't get into any of the rest, though I kept trying for a while.
Nevertheless, most of the lyrics to the song are a mish-mash of stuff I picked up from the Narnia books. I think there is a toffee tree by a lake in one of them. Also there are probably some talking vegetables. I don't really remember.
The song was written in about 15 minutes one day over that long 2002-3 winter break. I think Jennifer was still at home with her parents, but the few weeks between semesters was the worst at the bookstore and I never really got much time off around Christmas. So I woke, worked, came home and wasted magnetic tape. I remember sitting on the futon, strumming a great chord progression which immediately suggested this really awesome melody. I ran into the kitchen where I had the machine set up and by the time I was ready to record, I'd forgotten it.
What came out instead was "Go to the Ant You Lazybones"--a song nowhere near as great as the one originally suggested to me by the spirit. I ad libbed the words in one take and then spent the rest of the day soloing over the end.
After hearing the solo on the full band recording that we'd done in Finn's mom's house in the Summer of 2004, Paula said, "Whoa, settle down Jerry Garcia."
Monday, June 06, 2011
Friday, June 03, 2011
The Constitution Squares: America's Greatest Songwriter Gets a Webpage
FRIENDS:
The Constitution Squares, a band that consists entirely of my brother, has a band camp page. I am forcing him to upload his entire catalog, so keep your eyes open as I will be pushing it here. He advises me that these are unfinished, rough mixes, but they are still great.
If you haven't ever heard one of my brother's songs, you are in for a treat. Todd is a cross between Leonard Cohen, Monty Python and Giorgio Moroder.
MORE TO COME!
The Constitution Squares, a band that consists entirely of my brother, has a band camp page. I am forcing him to upload his entire catalog, so keep your eyes open as I will be pushing it here. He advises me that these are unfinished, rough mixes, but they are still great.
If you haven't ever heard one of my brother's songs, you are in for a treat. Todd is a cross between Leonard Cohen, Monty Python and Giorgio Moroder.
MORE TO COME!
Thursday, June 02, 2011
Visual Confirmation of Happiness
Tropic of Food Administrator, Audubon Park Friend, and Voracious Reader Alicia took some ridiculously good photographs of the Passion release show.
Note Eric below:
Here, Finn shows his jowling secrect:
I don't know who is playing drums: Ben or Jeff Fahey:
Apparently, the soul knows no bounds:
Do you suffer from ghost leg and ghost leg related illnesses?
We had a really great time:
Let's not forget that Actual Persons Living Or Dead won the night. Frankly, one of the best bands Chapel Hill has known and I really mean that.
The History of Audubon Park, Part Seventeen
I have a long and complicated religious history that I won't go into great detail on right now, but by the time I was 14, I found myself attending the First Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) of Danville, Kentucky.
Though I found church itself boring beyond words, I loved youth group. Not because youth group offered some important spiritual guidance that I found compelling as a young Christian, but because I got to hang out with girls.
I will always be grateful that I grew up exposed to a variety of Christianity that was tolerant and liberal and generally did not inspire fear or hate in me. For example: The first time I ever heard Nine Inch Nails and XTC were at youth group and they were played for us by guest speaker from Lexington. He played "Dead God" and asked us if we, as young Christians, should listen to music like this. Some people said we shouldn't because it wasn't Christian. The speaker said, "Hey, this song is awesome and XTC are a great band. If you don't listen to good music because someone tells you that it is 'unchristian,' you are only missing out on listening to good music. If you believe in God, a song isn't going to change that. Loosen up and listen to good music. Here's something off 'Pretty Hate Machine.' This stuff is great."
Our youth group would have lock-ins in the summer. We would stay up all night at the church and watch movies and listen to music. I think there was supposed to be some sort of "real talk" about Jesus, but that never seemed to happen. There were only a few people in the youth group who seemed to be there because they loved Jesus. For the most part, the other kids were just there to hang out with members of the opposite sex. It was for this reason that in retrospect, I am surprised that we were allowed to spend the night together in a church, more or less unsupervised.
Of course, this 'nonsupervision' didn't matter much to me. I wasn't one of the people sneaking off around dark corners, disappearing into the dark labyrinth of hallways. I stayed in the lighted areas with the boombox, listening to the cassette of the first Violent Femmes album that someone brought, shocked and elated by the language.
I think it has always thrilled Clint that "Tonight! The Church Van" contains the word 'narthex.' In case you've never looked it up, the 'narthex' of a church is the entrance to the naive of a church. Of course, in our church, it was just the fancy word for 'lobby.'
When we recorded at Finn's mom's house in Hope Valley, we moved everything out of her living room and den and breakfast nook. She was out of town for the weekend, and after we'd done it, Finn, Robert and Ben went for bagels and coffee.
"Your mom knows we are doing this, right?" Matt asked as they left.
"No."
"Is she likely to come home early?"
"Not likely."
Matt and stood there in Finn's mom's house, furniture gone and both silently wondered how it would look for her to come home, find her house empty and two strange men standing there, talking about Steely Dan.
Though I found church itself boring beyond words, I loved youth group. Not because youth group offered some important spiritual guidance that I found compelling as a young Christian, but because I got to hang out with girls.
I will always be grateful that I grew up exposed to a variety of Christianity that was tolerant and liberal and generally did not inspire fear or hate in me. For example: The first time I ever heard Nine Inch Nails and XTC were at youth group and they were played for us by guest speaker from Lexington. He played "Dead God" and asked us if we, as young Christians, should listen to music like this. Some people said we shouldn't because it wasn't Christian. The speaker said, "Hey, this song is awesome and XTC are a great band. If you don't listen to good music because someone tells you that it is 'unchristian,' you are only missing out on listening to good music. If you believe in God, a song isn't going to change that. Loosen up and listen to good music. Here's something off 'Pretty Hate Machine.' This stuff is great."
Our youth group would have lock-ins in the summer. We would stay up all night at the church and watch movies and listen to music. I think there was supposed to be some sort of "real talk" about Jesus, but that never seemed to happen. There were only a few people in the youth group who seemed to be there because they loved Jesus. For the most part, the other kids were just there to hang out with members of the opposite sex. It was for this reason that in retrospect, I am surprised that we were allowed to spend the night together in a church, more or less unsupervised.
Of course, this 'nonsupervision' didn't matter much to me. I wasn't one of the people sneaking off around dark corners, disappearing into the dark labyrinth of hallways. I stayed in the lighted areas with the boombox, listening to the cassette of the first Violent Femmes album that someone brought, shocked and elated by the language.
I think it has always thrilled Clint that "Tonight! The Church Van" contains the word 'narthex.' In case you've never looked it up, the 'narthex' of a church is the entrance to the naive of a church. Of course, in our church, it was just the fancy word for 'lobby.'
When we recorded at Finn's mom's house in Hope Valley, we moved everything out of her living room and den and breakfast nook. She was out of town for the weekend, and after we'd done it, Finn, Robert and Ben went for bagels and coffee.
"Your mom knows we are doing this, right?" Matt asked as they left.
"No."
"Is she likely to come home early?"
"Not likely."
Matt and stood there in Finn's mom's house, furniture gone and both silently wondered how it would look for her to come home, find her house empty and two strange men standing there, talking about Steely Dan.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Friday, May 27, 2011
ACTUAL PERSONS LIVING OR DEAD
In addition to Audubon Park and Aimee, tomorrow the mighty Actual Persons Living or Dead will be playing. Odds are, if you are reading this you are in that band, but if you are someone who ended up here by Googling "MC Skat Kat" (you would be surprised by how many people are Googling "MC Skat Kat" on a DAILY basis), please take a moment to listen to this:
A Youthful, All-American Energy!
The Durham Herald-Sun saves print media by running this:
Let's do this for the kids!
(NB: Print media was not actually saved because this was just one their website. The Internet is saved!)
Audubon Park and Aimee Argote performing "Born In The U.S.A." (Saturday, Local 506) - Audubon Park is a Carrboro-based pop band with strong, personal lyrics and a sense of youthful energy that sometimes passes for a Los Campesinos brand of art-punk on tracks like "A Plum in Light and Air" but is really an all-American sound that would make The Boss proud.
Enter Aimee Argote, better known as Des Ark (have you got a copy of her new album yet?). The former pride of Durham before moving to Philadelphia, Argote has been showing up around the Triangle the past few weeks playing solo shows. She's back, and this time she's going to be performing with Audobon [sic] Park as they run through the entirety of Bruce Springsteen's biggest album.
Let's do this for the kids!
(NB: Print media was not actually saved because this was just one their website. The Internet is saved!)
The History of Audubon Park, Errata
Yesterday, I wrote about how I came up with the title for our first EP "Angry Bees Outside, These Bees Inside." I've been informed that it was actually Jennifer who came up with the title.
This news calls into question the veracity of everything you read on these pages. I apologize. Now I am worried about this post I wrote about Audubon Park's first Grammy nomination.
This news calls into question the veracity of everything you read on these pages. I apologize. Now I am worried about this post I wrote about Audubon Park's first Grammy nomination.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
The History of Audubon Park, Part Sixteen
It just occurred to me that I never explained where the name of our first EP, "Angry Bees Outside, These Bees Inside," came from.
One afternoon, Jennifer and I were driving on 15-501, listening to NPR, because duh, that's what you do in Chapel Hill. There was a report about an abandoned house, maybe it was one that was foreclosed on and left in a bad state or something. I don't remember.
Anyway, the reporter said, "Angry bees outside. Dead bees inside."
"That would be a great title!" I said.
"It should be 'These Bees Inside,' Jennifer said. "'Dead Bees' sounds a little metal."
"We are sort of metal."
"No. Honey. I'm sorry."
She was right. We weren't metal at all.
One afternoon, Jennifer and I were driving on 15-501, listening to NPR, because duh, that's what you do in Chapel Hill. There was a report about an abandoned house, maybe it was one that was foreclosed on and left in a bad state or something. I don't remember.
Anyway, the reporter said, "Angry bees outside. Dead bees inside."
"That would be a great title!" I said.
"It should be 'These Bees Inside,' Jennifer said. "'Dead Bees' sounds a little metal."
"We are sort of metal."
"No. Honey. I'm sorry."
She was right. We weren't metal at all.
The History of Audubon Park, Part Fifteen
After the universal, crushing success of "Angry Bees Outside, These Bees Inside," the band decided we needed to strike while the iron of popular acclaim was hot, so we returned to Nick's studio a few months later and recorded what we thought would be our masterwork.
I mean, one of the songs even had two violins on it, which is some next level Carpenters-type sophistication.
A friend of mine, Mike Turner of the Warmer Milks said he wanted to put it out on his record label, so we sent him the master. "It might take a while," he said. "I want to do this right."
That release, I will tell you about later. This is not its story. This is the story of the EP we recorded to fill the gap between EPs.
I proposed the idea one afternoon at Go!. "Let's record an EP with the two songs from the demo that we know that didn't make it onto 'Bees' and this new song 'Tree Full of Snakes' and maybe a cover." We didn't have any money, so another weekend with Nick was out of the question, so we decided to let Matt record it on his 8-track 1/2 tape machine. But where.
"My mom is going to be out of town," Finn said. "We can do it at my mom's."
We sure can!
I mean, one of the songs even had two violins on it, which is some next level Carpenters-type sophistication.
A friend of mine, Mike Turner of the Warmer Milks said he wanted to put it out on his record label, so we sent him the master. "It might take a while," he said. "I want to do this right."
That release, I will tell you about later. This is not its story. This is the story of the EP we recorded to fill the gap between EPs.
I proposed the idea one afternoon at Go!. "Let's record an EP with the two songs from the demo that we know that didn't make it onto 'Bees' and this new song 'Tree Full of Snakes' and maybe a cover." We didn't have any money, so another weekend with Nick was out of the question, so we decided to let Matt record it on his 8-track 1/2 tape machine. But where.
"My mom is going to be out of town," Finn said. "We can do it at my mom's."
We sure can!
A Value Based System of Values; or, What Does My Mom Do On Facebook?
There is a button in the Blogger dashboard labeled "MONETIZE." I have never pushed it. I almost did once, but it was because I thought it said "MONKEYTIZE."
Audubon Park: Who Needs Practice When There Is A Mall To Go To!
The Independent has just published this article about Audubon Park. It is very nice. Perhaps, too nice!
The History of Audubon Park, Part Fourteen
After Robert and Rob moved into the Big House, Nate lived in a really sketchy house on Greensboro Street for a while. V. Sirin would practice there in his bedroom, the only room in the whole house with a lock on. A pad lock. One afternoon, we were checking out the basement and Matt asked, "Is that asbestos."
"I guess we'll know in about 20 years when we die from it."
The situation in the house soon became unpleasant in a number of ways and Nate moved out to the country with Nick Petersen. Nick worked at Go! and liked to record bands. As everyone who has ever met Nick knows, he is the nicest, coolest person. He recorded the two last V. Sirin songs. The penultimate, "Death to Videodrome," he recorded on an 8-track in the living room of that old house. I'd never heard a song of mine sounds that great before. It was just two acoustic guitars and drums, but it sounded like Led Zeppelin. Not long after that, Nick moved and started Track and Field in a house over in Carrboro. V. Sirin's last song, "Marginalia," was recorded there. He was living with Dave Perry at the time, I think, and you can hear toward the end of the song, me laughing as Dave walked through the living room while I was tracking vocals. He gave me a timid nod and I lost it.
When it came time to record, we asked Nick. With the exception of five songs (four by us at Finn's mom's and one with Zeno for a Compulation) we have recorded everything with Nick. Putting aside for a moment the fact that he is really great at what he does, making our soupy mess sound like the music of Olympian Gods, he is some how magically able to put up with Audubon Park recording--a non-stop parade of tasteless jokes, many of which make it onto tape. He has a special sense to know which dumb ideas we really mean and which we don't mean.
We recorded "Teenage Horses" with Nick when he moved the studio to Go! old location and "Passion" at his new house out on the edge of Carrboro within view of some cows.
So here is a toast to Nick--the real reason that Audubon Park albums are worth listening to (because he said 'No' to actually recording those cows).
"I guess we'll know in about 20 years when we die from it."
The situation in the house soon became unpleasant in a number of ways and Nate moved out to the country with Nick Petersen. Nick worked at Go! and liked to record bands. As everyone who has ever met Nick knows, he is the nicest, coolest person. He recorded the two last V. Sirin songs. The penultimate, "Death to Videodrome," he recorded on an 8-track in the living room of that old house. I'd never heard a song of mine sounds that great before. It was just two acoustic guitars and drums, but it sounded like Led Zeppelin. Not long after that, Nick moved and started Track and Field in a house over in Carrboro. V. Sirin's last song, "Marginalia," was recorded there. He was living with Dave Perry at the time, I think, and you can hear toward the end of the song, me laughing as Dave walked through the living room while I was tracking vocals. He gave me a timid nod and I lost it.
When it came time to record, we asked Nick. With the exception of five songs (four by us at Finn's mom's and one with Zeno for a Compulation) we have recorded everything with Nick. Putting aside for a moment the fact that he is really great at what he does, making our soupy mess sound like the music of Olympian Gods, he is some how magically able to put up with Audubon Park recording--a non-stop parade of tasteless jokes, many of which make it onto tape. He has a special sense to know which dumb ideas we really mean and which we don't mean.
We recorded "Teenage Horses" with Nick when he moved the studio to Go! old location and "Passion" at his new house out on the edge of Carrboro within view of some cows.
So here is a toast to Nick--the real reason that Audubon Park albums are worth listening to (because he said 'No' to actually recording those cows).
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
The History of Audubon Park, Part Thirteen
Once, we were at Ben and Lauren's house when they lived in Carrboro. We were listening to the Clash and I was working my way through a 2 liter of Mountain Dew. "No open-toe Tuesdays," Ben said as Arthur and Tina sat, staring at Robert, waiting.
The History of Audubon Park, Part Twelve
Audubon Park's first show was at the Nightlight in May of 2003. We played with Erie Choir (the beginning of a long tradition of letting Eric ride on our coattails). This was when the stage was still in the front corner of the place. And when it still had books and was the Skylight Exchange during the day.
The Nightlight was my favorite place to play for several reasons, but the ability to browse water-damaged and molding paperbacks was the clincher. The piles of books still in boxes from some estate sale, ancient Ellery Queens and brightly colored Modern Library editions, dust covered and dry. Old covers, old translations, authors that have faded out of even the most rabid reader's memory. It was just the perfect place for Audubon Park to play. Our little bower of forgotten books.
In the weeks leading up to the show, with our set of songs perfectly practiced, we discussed learning a cover. We batted a few things around and finally Finn said, "Hey, listen. Can we play 'Takin' Care of Business' by BTO?"
"Really?" the rest of us said.
"Yeah, I have my reasons. See..." And then Finn explained why he wanted to play it. It would be improper for me to put Finn's business on the street, so I will let him chime in on his love for that song if he wishes. All that needs to be said is that we learned it and when we played it, we melted faces.
After that, we began a tradition of playing covers at shows, but increasingly we did it without ever bothering to learn the song first. We played "Never Tear Us Apart" at Go! after running through the song once at practice, with Finn faking the sax solo with his mouth. We played "Don't Stop Believing" and "Cut Your Hair," both without ever having played the song before based purely on some unspoken cultural understanding.
In fact, after our first few shows, we more or less stopped practicing all together. We began to only get together to learn new songs and record every so often. Most of the time, our ragged charm overflowed the boundaries of our errors, but on a few occasions, we "flew too close to the sun with this not-practicing thing'" (as Matt said).
Of course, we are combining everything into one great stew this Saturday--Friday night will be the first time that all five of us have been together in over a year. We are going to relearn all our songs and then all of "Born in the USA."
I have no doubt that we will be able to "take care of business" because I "don't stop believing" that being unpracticed will "never tear us apart" or "cut our hair."
I'm sorry. That almost worked.
The Nightlight was my favorite place to play for several reasons, but the ability to browse water-damaged and molding paperbacks was the clincher. The piles of books still in boxes from some estate sale, ancient Ellery Queens and brightly colored Modern Library editions, dust covered and dry. Old covers, old translations, authors that have faded out of even the most rabid reader's memory. It was just the perfect place for Audubon Park to play. Our little bower of forgotten books.
In the weeks leading up to the show, with our set of songs perfectly practiced, we discussed learning a cover. We batted a few things around and finally Finn said, "Hey, listen. Can we play 'Takin' Care of Business' by BTO?"
"Really?" the rest of us said.
"Yeah, I have my reasons. See..." And then Finn explained why he wanted to play it. It would be improper for me to put Finn's business on the street, so I will let him chime in on his love for that song if he wishes. All that needs to be said is that we learned it and when we played it, we melted faces.
After that, we began a tradition of playing covers at shows, but increasingly we did it without ever bothering to learn the song first. We played "Never Tear Us Apart" at Go! after running through the song once at practice, with Finn faking the sax solo with his mouth. We played "Don't Stop Believing" and "Cut Your Hair," both without ever having played the song before based purely on some unspoken cultural understanding.
In fact, after our first few shows, we more or less stopped practicing all together. We began to only get together to learn new songs and record every so often. Most of the time, our ragged charm overflowed the boundaries of our errors, but on a few occasions, we "flew too close to the sun with this not-practicing thing'" (as Matt said).
Of course, we are combining everything into one great stew this Saturday--Friday night will be the first time that all five of us have been together in over a year. We are going to relearn all our songs and then all of "Born in the USA."
I have no doubt that we will be able to "take care of business" because I "don't stop believing" that being unpracticed will "never tear us apart" or "cut our hair."
I'm sorry. That almost worked.
Monday, May 23, 2011
The History of Audubon Park, Part Eleven
One weekend afternoon in late 2002 or early 2003, I was in my bedroom playing with my 4-track alone when my mother-in-law called. She asked me if Jennifer was home, and it told her that Jennifer was at school, holed up in her carrel doing school work. She told me that Jennifer's grandfather had passed away unexpectedly and asked me to tell Jennifer. I said I would, gave my condolences and hung up.
Jennifer was very close to her grandfather and I knew the news would upset her and I wasn't sure if I should run to school and tell her or wait until she got home. It seems like a minor conundrum now, but at the time, I really didn't know what to do. Would she want to know right away? Would she want a few more hours of not knowing? I didn't know. In the end, I waited a little and then drove to school and told her and tried to comfort her as best as I could.
The aimless instrumental I was recording when her mother called, I named "New Jacket" after the hand-me-down sport coat that I'd been given a few months before that had been her grandfather's. He was a pretty cool guy. He'd been a nuclear scientist, jazz drummer and had a glass eye. We can all aspire to such heights of awesome.
Since that time, her other grandfather passed away along with my three remaining grandparents and my step-father. And we took care of each other as best we could, which was pretty good.
Jennifer was very close to her grandfather and I knew the news would upset her and I wasn't sure if I should run to school and tell her or wait until she got home. It seems like a minor conundrum now, but at the time, I really didn't know what to do. Would she want to know right away? Would she want a few more hours of not knowing? I didn't know. In the end, I waited a little and then drove to school and told her and tried to comfort her as best as I could.
The aimless instrumental I was recording when her mother called, I named "New Jacket" after the hand-me-down sport coat that I'd been given a few months before that had been her grandfather's. He was a pretty cool guy. He'd been a nuclear scientist, jazz drummer and had a glass eye. We can all aspire to such heights of awesome.
Since that time, her other grandfather passed away along with my three remaining grandparents and my step-father. And we took care of each other as best we could, which was pretty good.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)