For the last 5 months or so the amount of blogging I’ve done on the site has been pretty limited for a few different reasons. One is lack of time; it’s been an insanely busy fall/winter with lots of different records getting made and shows to be played. The other reason is I’ve been lucky enough to work on a slew of albums for people I really respect and care about, and blogging too much about their processes just didn’t feel right. If they choose to share their own thoughts and methods and insecurities about recording, then so be it, but I’ve felt like it hasn’t really been my place to do so. That being said, today I started making a new record and I can cry and complain and plead for advice and forgiveness all I want and not feel bad at all.

This is pretty much the hardest part about any artistic process -

The blank page/screen/whatever your medium. it’s empty and how do you start to fill it? I have a bunch of songs that are all swirling around in my head in various degrees of doneness, but how do I communicate it all? To start with, there’s 3 things that are going to keep me on track this time around.

ONE  - I’m a drummer. I’ve been really shying away from that over the past few things I’ve released, more or less because I wanted to make something very un-drum like and utilize the acoustic guitar which I really fell in one with. I wanted to hear pretty songs and I wasn’t hearing a pretty way to play a lot of drums. Not so this time. I’ve written the songs on acoustic guitar, but they’re all going to start with the drums. The finished product may not be all rhythm all the time, but it’s how it’s going to start.

TWO – I’m a lucky man and count some of the best musicians in the country as friends and colleagues. I’m bringing them into the process really early on for the first time and see if I can push the music further into a larger, fuller sound. If you played on my last record and you’re reading this, I’ll probably call you in the next couple days, and I love you.

THREE – I have a lab! It’s an amazing opportunity for me to have the luxury of a fully functioning workspace. I did the last record 90 percent in my living room thanks to a patient lady friend, super cool neighbours, and a semi quiet dog who loves guitar. It’s so great to be able to have things set up and ready at a separate work space outside my home; it helps me not obsess and clear my head. It also keeps me super focused, so when I’m at work I really am at work, no internet, no distractions. Business.

So, that’s the idea so far. I started this afternoon on a real foot stomper about Nova Scotia that I have my team picked for, and they’re coming in friday. I’m a little nervous and excited as hell. I’ve been lucky enough to learn a TON over the past while from everyone I’ve been worked over the past while and I’ve got some new tricks that may completely back fire or end up being awesome. We’ll see, and I’ll share them here right away. Thanks for sticking around. xo

Seven seconds of fire

How a short burst of drumming changed the face of music

IT IS 3am in a dank, sweaty studio in south London. Ear-splitting basslines pound from the sound system. Some of the young crowd gently bob along. Others are drinking, chatting or lurking in dark corners. Then, suddenly, the music changes. A throbbing pulse gives way to a clattering rhythm. Where there were 130 beats per minute, there are now 170. Where the mood was meditative, it is now maniacal. Within seconds the place is jumping.

This music is called “jungle”. Some of the people in the club were probably not alive when it was created. Certainly few would have been old enough to experience it in its heyday. These young revellers have an ear for the next big thing; they find trips down musical memory lane tiresome. Yet nothing seems to animate them like these tracks from almost 20 years ago.

To understand jungle’s roots, you must travel yet further back in time. On March 11th 1970 Richard L. Spencer, tenor saxophonist and lead singer for a short-lived Washington, DC, soul act called the Winstons, was awarded a Grammy for “Color Him Father”, a sentimental ode to a devoted stepfather released by the band the year before. The record sold well, but unlike some of his fellow winners that day, who included Aretha Franklin, Joni Mitchell and Johnny Cash, Mr Spencer was not destined for musical canonisation; the Winstons had already split up and later that year he quit the music business. The song, too, has largely been forgotten.

The same is not true for “Amen, Brother”, the B-side to “Color Him Father”. It is not immediately apparent why this should be. The two-and-a-half-minute instrumental, a funk update of an old gospel standard, is sprightly enough; the casual listener might be diverted by the energetic horn line. But there is little to distinguish it from hundreds of similar records released around the same time. The band recorded it quickly, says Mr Spencer; they needed a B-side and didn’t have any other songs.

Seven seconds of this track were enough to guarantee its immortality. One minute and 26 seconds in, the horns, organ and bass drop out, leaving the drummer, Gregory Coleman, to pound away alone for four bars. For two bars he maintains his previous beat; in the third he delays a snare hit, agitating the groove slightly; and in the fourth he leaves the first beat empty, following up with a brief syncopated pattern that culminates in an unexpectedly early cymbal crash, heralding the band’s re-entry.

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Here we are, fully into 2012 and I haven’t even said hello yet, who do I think I am. I’ve spent the past 2 weeks spending time doing not much else but looking at things like this -

but now I’m back and will spend as much time as possible looking at this

A couple pieces of exciting news – my talented, classy, and beautiful friend Valery Gore and I have been awarded a Toronto Arts Council grant to compose some music together, and we both super excited. We plan on holing up in my lab wearing long white coats, goggles, bolo ties, writing on clip boards and making sounds of all sorts. I’ll post clips as we go along.

News number 2 is the equally brilliant Laurie Brown has selected my most recent album as one of the CBC’s the Signal top albums of the year. I’m absolutely flattered to be part of an amazing list that includes artists I love and respect like St. Vincent, Bon Iver, and all the rest on there. Head over to the site for the list in full.

January is already a busy month, finishing up records with Kirsten Scholte and Royal Wood, then heading back out east for some long overdue playing/rehearsing with David Myles and co. This year is off to an amazing start, can’t wait to share it all with you.

Stealing time between other people’s recordings to get some of my own stuff started again. The past month has been nuts in the best possible way, but I’m getting itchy to make/write again. Just beats for now but hopefully some “music” soon

NB music journalist/music lover Ken Kelley was kind enough to do a web Q/A with me on his great site www.musicnerd.ca. He asked some really interesting questions about instrumental music, and one specifically about licensing it and whether it’s easier due to the fact that there’s no vocals. It’s a tough call and entirely dependant on the visuals, but here’s an example of a quick piece I made for a friend who is about to release a really interesting iPhone app. I’ll post the trailer when it’s done, but here’s the background music. There’s a female voice narration that goes on in the video, so it needed to be something that had some melodic interest, but not too over bearing as to distract from what she’s saying.