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When I recorded this album I had decided to make a collection of songs that I’d written and played to good response at concerts over the years. Some of the pieces were new-ish, some of them had been around for a while. I remember writing this one many years ago. Took me most of the time since then to understand exactly what I think it was about. But what do I know? It’s out there now, so you take from it what you want. I’m good with that.
Like pretty much all of my songs it wasn’t actually about me, although like most of my songs it’s easy to think that ‘me’ is exactly what it’s about. No, it dances around for a while, but this one was for a friend who is now long gone. In the middle of a tough time I remember him saying, as guys sometimes do, “I’ll be alright.” Funny the things some of us go through when we’re younger, things that shape us when we’re older. For some people it’s an affirmation, for others it’s denial. All I really know is that I’ve heard it said a lot over the years. “I’ll be alright.” And sometimes I hear those words in my friend’s voice. I’ve been told other people ‘carry colour’, they can remember what a colour looks like when they’re no longer looking at it. Apparently quarks carry colour too, but I expect that’s different. I’m not great with colour, but I guess I ‘carry sound’. Sometimes stays with me a long time.
the song–>I’ll Be Alright from the CD ‘The Long View’, 2006 (LV001)
I can hear his voice even today. Ah, friend, deeply missed even now. I remember your kindness in so many ways. And spending time on your couch while I tried to figure out exactly what had happened. I passed it on a few times, never explained why. I know some folks thought I was foolish, and yes I know I was taken advantage of more than once. But all I was doing was paying it forward. And that’s just a risk you have to take. Thanks for that. Figure I still owe you. But yeah, I’ll be alright.
I hadn’t written anything new for a while. Sort of happens to me, especially when I get working on other things, or when life gets in the way. Lord knows there’s been enough of that lately. I’ll put off encouraging myself to write, but sometimes songs just push themelves into being. This was one of a pair that came out of the blue. I’ve played it a couple of times, and folks approved. Okay, I guess I’ll keep it. I’ve got a melody in mind, but it really is a straight-ahead blues thing, so as promised here are the words, make of it what you will. Just remember not to point it at anybody, that’s not polite. Written for so many friends of all persuasion. Like all good songs, apparently it’s a true story.
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She says I can’t do nothin’, and I don’t do nothin’ right
Maybe there’s nothin’ doin’, just the way it is tonight
Just like a man, yeah, yeah, yeah
There’s only one thing I know I understand
I like a woman, who likes a man
Some people think I’m crazy, some people they just laugh
Some people they don’t know what to think, ’cause I sure ain’t no better half
Just like a man, yeah, yeah, yeah
There’s only one thing I know I understand
I like a woman, who likes a man
Not because you buy her trinkets, or drive a fancy car
Not because of some attitude, just ’cause of what you are
She likes a man, yeah, yeah, yeah
There’s more than one thing you know she understands
… but she likes a man
So, she says I can’t do nothin’, leastways nothin’ right
Maybe there’s nothin’ doin’, it’s just the way it is tonight
Just like a man, yeah, yeah, yeah
There’s only one thing I know I understand
I like a woman, who likes a man
Working on a recording the other day I was reminded that not everyone around here can play a rhythm part for a slip jig. It is in my nature to assume that if I can do something anyone can. It is apparently in the nature of the universe to remind me that it’s not necessarily true.
(If you’re asking yourself ‘What’s a slip jig?’, it’s like this–if you think of a normal, garden-variety jig as having two main beats, then a slip jig has three of those main beats. No big deal. So a single bar of a standard jig rhythm goes ‘bicycle, bicycle’, but a single bar of a slip jig goes ‘bicycle, bicycle, bicycle’. Easy enough.)
Never really thought of it before, but I guess I’ve been playing slip jigs for years. There’s something about having three strong beats in a phrase that I find really compelling. So I love playing it. I actually recorded one a while back.
 the song –>Rattlin’ Roarin’ Willie–from the CD ‘letters from home’, 1997 (NHC 401)
The tune is one of my favourite slip jigs. Not because I wrote it, I just really enjoy playing it, both the melody and the rhythm. And it’s nice how well the tune fit with the song by Robbie Burns. It’s probably worth me pointing out that both the tune and the verses of the song are in a slip jig rhythm (call it 9/8 time if you count things that way), but the other sections of the piece are in normal jig rhythm (that’d be 6/8 in that same counting method). As a matter of fact in places the arrangement flows pretty freely back and forth between the two. I don’t know why I did that, really. I think I enjoy the way the slip jig moves things along with that rolling, pushing ahead feeling. While the normal jig feels a little more like marking time, waiting for the next flight (which is useful in its own way).
I think I like the song, too, because the guy gets to keep his fiddle and enjoys the company of some good people. I’m a sucker for a happy ending. And like all the best songs, it’s apparently a true story. Go figure.
I don’t try to attach a fiddle tune to every song, but sometimes it just makes so much sense. You can get such a lovely groove going in so many different ways. I know that groove may not be exactly how it might be played behind the tune when it’s in the tradition straight up, no ice. But happily that’s not as much of a hanging offense in these parts as it used to be.
In this particular case I got to lilt the tune myself at the same time as I’m flat-picking it on the guitar. The result is kind of what I hear in my head most of the time when I’m playing a tune, whether I’m responsible for the melody or not. I certainly think that’s part of why and how I’ll play the rhythm part when that’s my job. Of course I don’t hear the melody’s phrasing the same way it comes off a fiddler’s bow. More like a flute player. I suppose maybe because that’s where I started. Well, actually it was a whistle. But that’s a story for another time. In the meantime, it was kind of nice to hear this again. The words still mean a lot to me.
the song –>How Can I Keep From Singing–from the CD ‘letters from home’, 1997 (NHC 401)
Hey friend, how’re you doing? Hope your day’s been okay. Around here the nights are all above freezing now. That’s got to be some kind of positive sign. And I know I heard a cardinal today. He’s not really a sign of spring, you’re right. But I think the fact that I was outside and had on few enough layers that I could actually hear his call is proof of some kind of positive progress.
I’ve been keeping busy enough, working away at various projects. It’s always good when I can keep myself occupied. Even better when it’s something useful. I find most of my friends are the same way. Other folks might get together with their friends and compare hobbies. I get together with my friends and we talk about the various projects that we’ve got on the go. Even if it’s something we don’t exactly share someone’s enthusiasm for we can cheer one another on. A buddy system of sorts. I know that support is important for those of us who take on weird things like we do. I know I’ve felt the lack of that support before. This is better.
I was having a visit with my friend Jack the other day. Was pretty exciting. I don’t think I told you about his latest project. It’s very cool in all kinds of ways. He’s made a book of the music of James Gordon. Fifty songs, all complete with melody, chords and guitar diagrams as well as a whole bunch of information about the songs and where they come from. James has been playing all over Canada forever, he’s well known to CBC Radio listeners for his work writing songs for “Ontario Morning” and “Basic Black”. I figure James has likely played in just about every town in Canada at one time or another as well as touring steadily across North America and Britain. A bit of a national treasure. My buddy Jack decided there was nothing for it but to put together a book of James’ songs. So he did.
And the other day we sat over the kitchen table while I made appropriate cheering noises. It’s done. And it looks like a million bucks. I gave him a hand with some parts of the process, but I was kind of embarasssed at the credit both of them gave me. Okay, maybe I helped things along a bit. But it’s James’ music, and it’s Jack’s book. And this is the sound of me cheering my buddy on. Yay team.
 So, I remember I promised I’d let you know about stuff before it happened. I also promised to let you know the details when I heard about something cool. I figure this qualifies. The songs are great, the stories are Very Cool, and the whole package just puts a huge smile on my face. It’s called “Pipe Street Songbook” and if you’re passing through Kitchener-Waterloo you can get a copy at Wordsworth Books. If you’re in Guelph you’ll find it at all the downtown music stores including Gordon Taylor Music and Guelph Music as well as The Bookshelf and Ground Floor Music. Or if you’re doing the online thing you can order directly from Jack at BerLen music.
Straight-up–I get nothing if you buy a copy. Except the huge satisfaction of seeing a friend’s really great project do well. Oh hey, and can I tell you two more cool things about the project?
Jack’s set himself up so that he can put together a book like this fairly easily. So now he’s on a hunt for the next great project.
And remember I told you about Lilypond the other day? The whole thing was put together using Lilypond. No really.
Now that’s way too cool.
Thanks for letting me share it with you. Gotta love it when friends do cool stuff. But I’ve burbled enough, so I’ll leave you with that thought. Write when you get a chance. Meantime I hope this finds you well.
I’ve been meaning to get to this, I guess today is the day. I know I may well have shared it with you before, but it’s certainly worth mentioning here–if you’re looking to put any music down on paper I strongly suggest you check out Lilypond. Whether you’re looking to sketch out a fiddle tune so somebody else can read it, or you need to set down a melody and chords so the band can rehearse, I’d really like you to have a look at this tool for making great, clean, readable notation.
What I like about it is it’s really, really simple to use. And once you’ve got the notes all in place (which is so much easier than any of the big programs I’ve used), Lilypond makes output as a .pdf file, which makes it easy to send to any musician and they can print it. And if it turns out you need to make a change like moving the key around from G to B-flat it’s a tiny change. I mean tiny to the point of being trivial.
Oh, and if you’ve ever spent time using the other music programs out there you know you always need to tweak things around, move the sharp because it’s obscuring the note, and do it again and again until you’ve finally got something someone can read without having to bring things to a grinding halt to ask for clarification. That just doesn’t happen in the Lilypond universe. It’s readable right from the beginning.
What else? Well, there are all kinds of people using it, and they form a community so you can always find solutions if you’re doing something a little out of the ordinary. And if you are doing something out of the ordinary it can certainly do the job. All of the scores, parts and lead sheets for my musical are being done using Lilypond.
So, I get nothing for saying this, but I think Lilypond should be part of every musician’s toolkit.
No, really.
Well it was a successful day. Not as long as some recording days have been in the past, but a solid day and a fair bit accomplished. It’s always been an interesting process for me, recording other people’s music. One of the first things I usually do when all the gear’s set up is ask the person to play their instrument for me. They’ll ask me where I’m going to put the microphone, and I say I’m not yet. Then I sit down in front of them and ask them to play. And I use my ears to guide me. What does this instrument really sound like? I mean before I put a mic in front of it, and they put headphones on, and I go in the other room and turn on the pre-amp and the converters and the amp for the speakers and a dozen other gizmos and then speak into my microphone so they can hear my voice in their headphones saying, “Okay, just play naturally.”
I mean really, when I’m producing a recording half my job is to make all the gear disappear so we’re just playing music.
And I think the other half of my job is to make all that gear work so that what you hear is the sound of the musician’s instrument the way that musician plays it.
So I sit down and ask them to play for me.
Once I’ve got a handle on what it sounds like I place a mic or two, plug in a pre-amp or more, and try to make it sound like what I just heard while I was sitting there listening. I know I’ll never make it exactly the same, but I can usually get close. I understand some people can ‘carry colour’ by keeping an accurate memory of it in their mind. I guess that’s what I do with sound. I get an accurate sound-picture in my memory, then I try to record what I hear.
Mind you sometimes the process is a little different. Sometimes I hear the sound in my head first. Then I try to record something that sounds like what I’ve heard. Sometimes it’s easy–I hear an oboe part so I write it out, find an oboe player and we’re in business.
Sometimes it’s not so easy. As an example here’s something I recorded a while ago. I’m completely happy with how it came out, but it’s not what I heard in my head.
the song–>Hope from the CD ‘The Long View’, 2006 (LV001)
You see I used to live across the river from a church with a carrillon, and whenever I sang this song my imagination heard those bells playing along. Sadly when I got up enough nerve to ask whether it was possible I guess I must’ve got somebody on a bad day. I suppose it’s not exactly normal that the guy who’s just asked if he can record your bells actually knows what he’s doing, fair enough. But I think it would’ve been pretty cool, and while we were set up we probably could’ve recorded a few tracks for the church, maybe for fundraising or just for posterity. Oh well.
Just record what you hear.
Sounds easy enough…
I was thinking of this song the other day. Written quite a few years ago watching people go through hard times, it’s the kind of song you could hope would go out of style because the circumstances that caused the song to be written have disappeared. Then news came today that another fifteen-hundred people lost their jobs from that same town. And apparently you just have to deal with it.
the song–>Poor Man’s Wine–from the CD ‘letters from home’, 1997 (NHC 401)
Maybe one day there’ll be no reason to sing a song like this. Until then…
I suppose I should have put this here sooner, but I was reminded this weekend how much this song touches people. So today is a good day to give you this to listen to. I wrote the song a while ago, didn’t write it with anyone particularly in mind but it seems to speak to the experience of many people. I’ ve been asked to sing it in some challenging circumstances. But when people ask you can’t say no, at least I can’t.
the song–>These Are the Times from the CD ‘The Long View’, 2006 (LV001)
Played in DADGAD tuning, it’s pretty straightforward musically. As I said in the liner notes, “When I’m singing it the question feels insistent, urgent. But every person who talks to me about it after seems to have a little bit of the answer in them.”
We were talking about this arrangement the other day, I thought you might like to hear it. The song is one I learned from the singing of Cooper, Nelson and Early. Normally sung as a slow, pretty waltz, I noticed that the words scanned beautifully when played in that loopy, skipping way that I tend to play a jig. I was enjoying wandering through it in the key of F, and as luck would have it I remembered a jig in that same key that I’d learned during my time playing with Ken Perlman. The jig is called ‘Light and Airy’, one of the tunes collected from Prince Edward Island. I enjoyed the way it fell under the fingers on my flute, made even happier by how it fit with the song as it had evolved.
I enjoy singing songs as much as I do playing tunes. This kind of arrangement is a natural extension of that love. I enjoy the way the tune serves as a counterpoint to the story. I’ve put together quite a few of these over the years. Never really had much much opportunity to perform them. I did take the time to rehearse a fiddler and Irish piper through a whole evening’s worth of that kind of thing a few years ago. It was a great sound. Sadly the musicians moved on before we were able to get any of it out in front of people more than once or twice. Since then I’ve continued to work out arrangements like this, might sit down and record them one day. In the meantime I still like the way this came together.
the song –>Indian Lass–from the CD ‘letters from home’, 1997 (NHC 401)
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