Category: Philosophy

Gear, Philosophy

Little Things and Why They Matter

by Jamie Bonk

More often than not, whenever I learn about someone who is good at what they do, I see some similar patterns. Sure the patterns are somewhat specific to their own area of expertise, but many (all?) care deeply about not only the bigger picture, but also the little things. I think it’s pretty rare to find a hockey player who doesn’t care about their stick or a violinist who is totally indifferent to their bow.

I’m certainly not immune to the battle between the forest and the trees and I’m never sure if I’m getting the mix just right. I have boxes and bags full of different bits of gear — all kinds of strings made out of a multitude of materials, picks in just about every shape and, of course, in a huge variety of thicknesses. I also have tons of stuff that I can’t even remember why I bought it. Must have made sense at the time and I probably thought I really, really needed it.

And that’s the point — those little things are part of the process for me. Every bit matters even if I can’t tell you now why something had value in the past. What’s important to me, is continuing to have some of my focus on the building blocks of my music — both on the gear and technical side of things and on the compositional and performance elements.

Books, Music Industry, Philosophy, Production, Recording, Studio

“Listen Up!” by Mark and Chris Howard

by Jamie Bonk

I’ve read quite a few music related books. Some books were for school (i.e. the history of a particular period in time or on orchestration) and some books were more for enjoyment. “Listen Up!” by producer/engineer Mark Howard and his brother Chris is somewhere in the middle of those two extremes. The writers found a nice balance between the industry/gear talk and the social/personal aspects described in the book. And wow, there sure is a ton of stuff discussed. “Listen Up!” is like a freight train of activity — one project directly following another project following a tour and then followed by yet another project.

Besides Mark’s own production/engineering projects, he has worked extensively with producer/guitarist/singer/songwriter Daniel Lanois. Lanois’s approach to recording was often installation based — in other words he would set up a studio in a nontraditional setting such as a house. In many cases, it was one of Mark’s roles to “build” the studio. He would scout out a location, get the gear and assemble everything. He also spent a fair amount of time considering the decor of the studio. The feel/vibe of a space can absolutely affect how musicians perform, so it makes sense he thought about things like lighting, rugs and accessories.

A few things jumped out at me while I was reading the book. First was the incredible level of detail. Mark either has a fantastic memory or he kept a journal, but regardless the details help paint a very clear picture of his various interactions. And that was the second thing that caught my attention — all the interactions. It’s no secret that much of the music industry is at least partially based around personal, social interactions. If you work well with one artist then other related artists may want to work with you. The best networking and marketing is good work, which Mark obviously has, but he also has the ability to connect with artists on a personal level.

The third thing I found interesting was the importance of money. Obviously, recording with good gear, an engineer or two and a producer is going to cost at least a few bucks. While I’m aware of albums, like Chinese Democracy, Tusk and Random Access Memories that pushed their related budgets into the extreme, Mark’s recounting of Neil Young’s Le Noise was eye opening. Produced by Lanois and engineered by Mark, they spent six months making the record and when Lanois had the bill for $250,000 handed to Neil Young’s manager, there clearly was a problem. The record label had given Young a budget of $25,000 for the album. Without a doubt, there was a massive disconnect and I’m sure it was a painful lesson for both Lanois and Mark.

If you’re like me and you like to read about artists, the industry and have a look behind the curtain, then Mark and Chris’s writing will absolutely pull you in. “Listen Up!” is a good book and well worth picking up.

Philosophy

Context

by Jamie Bonk

I’d like to think that music and art can exist perfectly on their own. A crazy, impractical dream, I know. Just like everyone else, my relationship with art, both as viewer/listener and as a creator, is tempered by, among many other things, where and when I live, my cultural background and my own tastes.

One thing that’s struck me over the last little while is how much my own reaction to art is affected by technical matters. For instance, every time I see a show or movie shot in one frame rate and then played back at another frame rate (i.e. the “soap opera effect“) I can’t help but think of an amateur level production. The bizarre look instantly pulls me out of the story. It’s the same deal for me with audio that is out of sync with the picture. Even a little drives me nuts. I end up trying to figure out whether the audio is ahead or behind the picture and not being engaged with the story.

A somewhat less obvious affect of context is the power of an audience. Many performers say they feed off the energy of an audience. I think that is clearly true even when watching talk shows, that normally have an audience, try to do their show in an empty theatre. Sometimes they fall down. In music, there are lots of examples of bands bringing at least a few people into the studio to try to create a live music atmosphere. It’s just a different energy.

I’ve played quite a few live gigs over the years, but the thing I’ve done most in my career is record in my own studio. Other than when I’m lucky enough to have other musicians on my records, I write, perform and engineer most of the music. So I never have an audience (or even a producer or engineer) there for what I do most. How has that changed my own music? I really don’t know specifically, but I’m guessing it must have generally. The reality is I’m primarily alone in a room, which makes a large part of my artistic life similar to a painter or a writer. The other reality is, that at this point, the context of how and where I make music is engrained in my artistic make up.

Books, Music Industry, Philosophy, Tech

“To Feel the Music” by Neil Young and Phil Baker

by Jamie Bonk

I love the meeting point between music, technology and business. And I also have a soft spot for people and companies that pursue quality. So “To Feel the Music” by Neil Young and Phil Baker brilliantly checks off many of my reading interests. The book takes you on a somewhat out of control odyssey primarily detailing the creation and eventual demise of the high resolution audio player Pono. But the genesis of the device and the core of the book is what matters most.

For Neil Young, Phil Baker and the Pono team sound quality was the philosophical and business driver. It’s what informed the entire project and it’s also what ultimately drove the company out of business. The challenge for Pono was three fold. First there was educating the consumer as to what high resolution audio is and why they would want it. Second, the technical hurdle of building not only a physical player but also a distribution system in the form of a dedicated website. And third, convincing record companies that the pricing of high resolution audio should be similar or equal to the cost of compressed audio formats. None of these elements are what one would call a breeze to achieve.

I probably should add another massive mountain that Pono had to climb. Money. As the book details, product development is not cheap and at pretty much every step Pono was hunting for capital. To say it was an uphill battle would be an understatement. Just about every setback you could think of, they encountered — from personnel to engineering to finally losing their dedicated distribution website. All of these setbacks were costly and in the end lead to the demise of Pono.

Was it a worthwhile effort? On the business side, Pono burned through a whole bunch of cash and are no longer in business, which obviously isn’t a good thing. But from a purely audio quality and art perspective, I would say absolutely Pono did what they set out to do. Recordings should sound the best they possibly can and compressed audio doesn’t do that. There’s the argument that the consumer simply wants more songs and not better sounding songs, but why can’t they have both? Computing horsepower and bandwidth are not the limiting factor they were even in the recent past. If you can stream high definition video you certainly can stream high resolution audio. And that’s exactly what the Neil Young Archives are doing right now. My hope is that the large labels and streaming companies will follow in Pono and Neil Young’s footsteps and give listeners a chance “To Feel the Music”.

Books, Philosophy

Willie Nelson: ‘Ain’t Many Of Us Left’ (NPR)

by Jamie BonkLeave a Comment on Willie Nelson: ‘Ain’t Many Of Us Left’ (NPR)

Willie Nelson: ‘Ain’t Many Of Us Left’ (NPR)

NPR: Producers would tell you your phrasing is off. What does that mean?

Willie: It means change producers.

————

Yes!! That’s one of the reasons I like Willie. Joni Mitchell said a similar thing about how/why she produced her own records in her fantastic book, In Her Own Words. Going to have to pick up Willie’s new book!

Philosophy, Sixteen Different Minds, What's New

How Apple and its products are inspired by Canadian Glenn Gould

by Jamie BonkLeave a Comment on How Apple and its products are inspired by Canadian Glenn Gould

Wow… Interesting that Apple studies Gould at their internal Apple University.  I’ve been a long time fan of Gould and have used Apple products for a very long time now.  Hadn’t thought there was any correlation until now.  Makes sense when I think about it though…

http://www.ctvnews.ca/sci-tech/how-apple-and-its-products-are-inspired-by-canadian-glenn-gould-1.2335254

Philosophy, What's New

Back On Your Life

by Jamie Bonk3 Comments on Back On Your Life

I think, like many artists do, that writing can be a kind of therapy. I simply feel better after putting my feelings into a song. And this song, Back On Your Life, is a special kind of therapy for me. Last week a former student and now friend gave me a call and asked to meet with me. Hadn’t seen my friend in four or five months, but that wasn’t that odd — life happens and we all get busy. When we met up it was absolutely, painfully clear that my friend was profoundly, terminally ill. I wish I could say there was an upside to this, but there isn’t. That meeting really was a last goodbye.

I had been working on Back On Your Life for a few years now. Yes years and I could never finish it. This song isn’t really about my friend — it’s about Sonya and me and about getting older. But I will always be thankful that the meeting with my friend gave me the sense of purpose to complete the song.

This version of Back On Your Life is a demo with my very less than stellar vocals. Maybe I’ll re-record it with a “real” vocalist. Maybe not. Either way, I’m happy it’s done.

Here are the lyrics:

Verse 1

So some of our dreams were broken
Some lost, some unspoken
Don’t need to know
What the hurt surely shows
That this was all we had to give

Pre-Chorus

Look away
For a moment
Look away
And you’ll be looking

Chorus

Back on your life
Back on your life

Verse 2

Today I look at
Could have beens and should haves
With more life behind me
Than there is in front of me
But that was all I had to give

Pre-Chorus

Look away
For a moment
Look away
And you’ll be looking

Chorus

Back on your life
Back on your life

Verse 2

When the time arrives
To say goodbyes
You need know
That I loved you so
And I’ll miss you always

Pre-Chorus

Look away
For a moment
Look away
And you’ll be looking

Chorus

Back on your life
Back on your life

Chorus Out

Back on your life
Back on your life

Gear, Philosophy, What's New

Acoustic Pedalboard (2012)

by Jamie BonkLeave a Comment on Acoustic Pedalboard (2012)

I don’t think I’ve ever met a guitarist who wasn’t on some kind of a gear quest — on that never ending torturous yet joyous search for a particular piece of gear that you absolutely know will present the perfect tone. Or feel. Or really anything good.  And you will finally be able to calm the dark voices in your head.

Those voices do stop — for a few minutes, maybe an hour or if you’re really lucky a day, but the inevitable rears its ugly head.  You actually do truly without a doubt need the next piece of gear. It matters. Cue the quest redux.

When I talk about those on the quest, I’m not talking about the “others”.  I’m marching right along with everyone else.  Ask my wife about my affliction and she’ll tell it’s in no way a subtle thing.

But I do recognize that too much “stuff” gets in my way — artistically speaking.  Smarter people than myself have labelled it option anxiety and I think that’s a pretty good term.  I started noticing a few years ago that having more plugins (synths, compressors, delays, etc.) wasn’t helping me to write better or more efficiently.  It was slowing me down and sometimes to a crawl.  So I started looking at what really mattered to me, chose the plugins that resonated with me and focused strictly on those.

A little while later, I started applying the same philosophy to my guitar gear.  What didn’t work was out.  Didn’t matter how much I thought a piece of gear was really really cool. What mattered was — does it work for what I do.  How will this new guitar or effect pedal help me to get to the core of my music in a more elegant manner.

So this leads me to my current acoustic pedalboard. It’s a simple affair in my opinion: a Fishman Spectrum into a Tech 21 Boost D.L.A into a Tech 21 R.V.B.  Yes, it’s not an acoustic straight into a nice mic, but for my kind of music that’s not really possible in a live setting.  And I absolutely love playing with delay and reverb. The last piece in this pedalboard puzzle was the Voodoo Labs Pedal Power 2 Plus I added about a week ago.  I suppose it’s weird to buy a pedal to take away sound, but that’s exactly what it did — it took away the noise issues I was having.  Everything sounds a lot cleaner now and for lack of a better term “nicer”.

I’m truly happy with this board and I think it’s going to stay like this for a long while.  It has to — I have no more space for any pedals! Of course, I could always get another board…

Philosophy, What's New

Slashie No More

by Jamie BonkLeave a Comment on Slashie No More

It seems like I’ve been a slashie my entire career. You know, one of those artists whose style is defined as this/that/and-the-other without seeming to commit to something. I suppose that’s to be expected when you’re inspired by so many genres when writing and playing your music, but it makes it awfully difficult to describe what it is that you do. Really, your elevator pitch better take place in a VERY tall building!

So here I sit, working away on my seventh solo release and thinking once again that my music is some kind of hybrid and wondering how best to describe it. There’s the New Age sensibility, there’s Jazz harmonies, Classical melodies, some Pop, some World, a little Folk and a whole lot of acoustic guitar — pretty much the same mix as I’ve done since my self-titled debut album Jamie Bonk came out in ’98. [That is, other than my electronic-based album, Side B, that I put out a year or so ago. Yes, I know Side B was quite a course change, but I loved making that record, and I like to think it’s okay for artists to occasionally dip their toes in other stylistic waters.]

But back to the slashie problem because New Age/Jazz/Classical/Pop/Acoustic, or any other slashie hybrid isn’t cutting it for me anymore. I feel a little like Derek Zoolander right now when he asks: “Who am I”? and then answers himself. But here it goes: I’m a New Age Jazz Guitarist. That’s it. No slashies! Sonya, my wife, came up with that off-the-cuff so maybe the Zoolander analogy doesn’t exactly work, but I think the description is a good fit for what I do. New Age Jazz Guitarist. Not one OR the other, but both, which encompass all the other musical elements.  I know there may be all kinds of pluses and minuses to committing to this or any other descriptor and I know occasionally that I’m still going to need a long elevator ride to explain what it is that I do. And it’s also true that I’ve now just traded being a slashie for being a compound phraser, but that’s okay because now I feel like I can finally own a label: New Age Jazz Guitarist.