Things Musicians Must Know

As I was preparing for a rehearsal the other night, I realized that there are many skills that musicians have to have that go contrary to stereotypes about them:

1. Be organized. Charts. Charts for horns. Charts for when there are no horns. Set lists. Gig bags. Packing lists. I am still trying to get a system going for all of this. It's getting better. But it's impressive to see how each musician I work with has a routine for getting his axe from place to place, keeping his music together, marking up charts, etc.

2. Be punctual. As a recovering late person, for years I assumed that being late showed what a wacky, creative person I was. I still tend to cut things very close (one time for a gig on a ferry I actually leaped onto the ferry as it was pulling away from the dock--a maneuver made difficult because I was wearing a bonnet and a hoopskirt). With careful tutelage from my extremely punctual Mexican husband (counter to his culture, he knows), however, I now budget in preparation time. See, late people, when we think, "gig starts at 8," we subconsciously think, "I'll leave at 8, then." Makes no sense, but it's true. Now I really try to think, "one hour to get my stuff together, 40 minutes to get dressed/made up, 35 minutes to get there, 20 minutes to set up..."

3. Be methodical. I was telling my grandma about the process of making my album, and she said, "So are there drugs in the studio? You've got to be careful with those jazz musicians and drugs." Now, in her time perhaps it was true that jazz was perceived the way hip hop is now, as being at the forefront and pushing societal boundaries, but regardless, while there are certainly musicians of all sorts who get high, I really hate that and would have been so upset if I had been paying studio time and seeing cats drinking or whatever. But the point is, it takes planning and project management skills, and you don't arrive at the studio one day and blow and have great art just emerge automatically. You practice, methodically, looping things and repeating things until they are natural and relaxed. And you research, listening to other musicians and reading about the music and learning from teachers.

4. Be professional. To my amazement, all these career skills, like writing meaningful cover letters and putting a press package together and running a website and networking at conferences, are really important in music. The nice part is, unlike when I was applying for secretarial positions and such, when it comes to promoting my music at least this is the career and the business I've always dreamed of being in.

5. Be smart. When I was at the IAJE conference in January, watching the NEA Jazz Masters awards being bestowed on these 80-year-old greats for lifetime achievement, I realized how intellectually challenging and stimulating music is. Having been brought up in a musical but intellectual family, I internalized the idea that music and art were great but really not as important as being successful in business or writing. It's interesting--while some families want their kids to be dentists or doctors or lawyers, my brothers and I didn't have that pressure per se but there was always a sense that music isn't a "real job." Thank goodness I no longer believe that. Composing songs, playing piano, gaining rhythmic independence so you can play a complex percussion part while you sing something different, dancing, learning proper pronunciation, finding meaning and motivation in the music--this is the coolest, hardest job I could ever have.

Jakob Dylan on Songwriting

The May 2005 issue of Performing Songwriter has a great interview with Jakob Dylan. I found some inspiring quotes in it--in fact, after reading it, I sat down at the piano and finished two songs. (Just goes to show, reading trashy/beauty magazines just leaves me empty, whereas reading music magazines fills me with ideas. That's hard to remember when there is so much celebrity this-and-that all around us these days.)

On being a late bloomer:
"... I thought I was kind of a late bloomer because everybody has to realize that that first batch is probably going to be terrible. First of all, it's better to have 10 bad songs than no songs. And secondly, you're probably not going to stumble on your first great one until you get those other ones under your belt. You're going to have to keep carving away and learning."

On songs that last:
"... great artists and great bands transcended their scenes and their cliques. It's not enough to have the great image and the fresh sound. You have to have a song that transcends your influences and takes you to a place where you can last."

On interpreting lyrics:
"I love the mystery of songwriting, and I think that mystery should be in every song to some degree. ... I never worry about, or get caught up in, what did the songwriter mean, or is it him talking, or is he talking to somebody else, is this his story?"

On hard work:
"Randy Newman has always said that he actually doesn't like songwriting; it's a lot of work for him and he resents it. ... that's [not] such a foreign feeling. I feel a responsibility to write songs. ... I know that I feel a lot better doing it than I feel when I'm not doing it."

On opening the channel:
"... there are songwriting wheels that get greased in your head. It can be a lot of work to get them moving. Once they get going, it just starts pouring out of you. You take notes and you write everything down, and it cannot be turned off. Morning, noon and night. Driving in a car. Trying to go to sleep. These lines keep coming to your head. You've got to get the wheels moving. Once you do, grab onto something solid and hang on."

Música Ranchera

Last night was a party for my niece's first communion. Her parents have finally finished remodeling, and the house is amazing. My husband and I used to live there, back when it was all of 400 square feet and it would sway in the wind. Now it's probably over 2000 square feet, fancy kitchen with granite counters, 2.5 bathrooms, stucco archways, gorgeous moldings, etc. Since my husband, his cousins and everyone in the family works in construction, they do really good work--it just takes a long time to get done when it's your own house. I started to feel a little bad about my crappy kitchen--back in 2003, I made the decision that it didn't matter if my 1924 kitchen with peeling linoleum and no dishwasher was crappy, because what was going to make me happy was achieving my CD and so that's what I spent most of 2004 doing. But occasionally there are pangs of wanting to get back into home improvement, since I also used to be a carpenter and love doing that stuff.

Anyway, last night they had a 15-piece mariachi band out in the back yard, and upon request I sang a few songs. What fun it is to belt out these standards--Sabor a Mi and Historia de un Amor. For years I tried to copy the yodel that you do in this music and now it comes easily, as well as the high belting--with no amplification, of course. They played for two hours and then my husband and some other guys pooled a not insignificant amount of money to pay for another hour (I wasn't entirely happy with that, but la vida es para vivir!). Poor mariachis were hoarse by midnight--and they still had another gig to hit! Afterwards, my husband was encouraging me to do more ranchera music. There were also the usual questions--was I Mexican? I said "No, but I've done my time--been married to a Mexican for 15 years!"

Today's Listening

Bill Withers, man. He is so great. The simplicity, the elegance, the essential American quality, and then there is his life story. I think it's so cool that he lived life before writing about life in his songs--9 years in the military before he became a working musician. I just love the song "Grandma's Hands," the humor and the story. Also, those bass lines of his are so infectious. I still haven't written a good bass line yet. I'm listening to him and Stevie Wonder in hopes of learning how to do it.

Also, Manolito y su Trabuco. We bought this CD in Cuba. His voice is so clear and bell-like--reminds me a bit of Marc Anthony. I dig salsa where the melody shines through; sometimes people get too gymnastic for my taste in their pregones.

And then, after a few months of not hearing my album, I listened to myself. It's nice to come back to the music/arrangement/production after a break and be reminded of all the moments and details that turned out well. It reminds me of something Nancy Wilson said at IAJE, about how when she listened to herself she'd go, "Wow, I'm good!" And she said, be honest, isn't that what you're thinking? Her self-confidence is so inspiring. Why not focus on the accomplishment and positive instead of false modesty. No one wants to see a performer shuffling and apologizing, so why do it in the studio or when you look at your work? Trust me, I'm trying to convince myself of this--on a good day, like today, I listen to what I've done and am thrilled, but on a bad day, or framed by some criticism, I listen and hear only the flaws.

But producing a CD is like childbirth: After you're done, you're so proud of the result that eventually you forget the pain involved.

We Got Distribution!

Yay, I am pleased to announce that Jazzmérica, the maiden CD of Crazy Monkey Productions aka Alexa Weber Morales, is now being distributed nationally and internationally by NorthCountry Distributors, the largest distributor of independent Jazz in the world! This means you can go into most record stores and ask them to order it from NorthCountry if they haven't already. They work with Tower, Virgin, Amoeba and many other chains.

NorthCountry Dist.
The Cadence Building
Redwood NY 13679
PH: 315-287-2852
Fax: 315-287-2860
Email: info@ncdsales.com

Also, if you go to the Cadence Music Sales website (which is affiliated with NorthCountry) and search for Morales you'll find me and you can buy the CD there, as well as at www.cdbaby.com/cd/alexawm. Thanks for your support!

Police Helicopter

Last night at midnight I sat on the front steps eating some pan mexicano and a police helicopter was making circles in the sky, shining the spotlight down a few neighborhoods away from mine, and I got inspired to write these lyrics and a simple Bill Withers-type blues melody to go with them:

The Ring
By Alexandra Weber Morales © 2005

Police helicopter’s buzzing
The searchlight’s on my man
This is not the life I was born for
I am leaving, yes I am

I have never been arrested
His record is far worse
It’s not that he’s done bad things
It just clings to him this curse

We visited his hometown
My mother came along for fun
She asked where are the rich folks
I said I didn’t marry one

He’s got so much potential
When the sun shines he’s so smart
If love is providential
The Lord above won’t let us part

Every day I ask the question
Every night I sing this song
Just like the old expression
What does not break me makes me strong

I don’t try to share my troubles
No one wants to know what’s wrong
Or they blame me for the devils
As if I help them to hang on

I won’t judge another woman
I won’t speculate or chat
This ring is like an omen
She who wears it wins at last

In the sparkle of the morning
’Neath the blooming sky of blue
My sweet baby child is crowing
We are three—only this is true

One Song, a Day's Work

I spent one whole day this past weekend writing/rewriting/adding to a song I wrote back in 2001. I wrote it in a songwriting class my producer Wayne Wallace taught. But I wasn't happy with the melody. I've tried a bunch of alternatives. I'm learning Debussy's Claire de Lune right now, which is in 3/4, and for several years I've played Joplin's Bethena, a waltz, and this song has a 3/4 section in it though the chorus is in 4/4. So I was examining the Debussy and Joplin pieces for inspiration in terms of the piano part. This is only the second song where I've written out an entire piano part for it.

The cool thing is that I got it into sufficient shape to bring it into Grace Cathedral and sing it this past Sunday night at the service I solo for(it's on the Sundays at Six audio archive at www.gracecathedral.org, actually, for one week). I don't know if it's too goopy (my greatest fear), but hey, it's a whole piece and that's something. I've also started doing a better job of writing transitions (better in that I actually write a transition from one section to the next as opposed to none). Though it was funny when I brought it into John Sullivan, the pianist/organist. He got to one section where I just had blank bars with chord symbols, and he's not a jazz guy so he prefers notated accompaniment. He said, "What do I do here?" and I said, "I don't know, I didn't get that far, but try those chords." So that section is still funky, I can hear it on the recording. Here are the lyrics:

You Cry
By Alexandra L. Weber Morales © 2001

You cry
I dry your tears
You sigh
And I calm your fears

The sun goes down
And clouds gather angrily
But I envelop you invisibly
The bay is cold
Fog is gray
But I will always stay
To offer strength and sympathy

You cry
I dry your tears
You ask why
And I calm your fears

The night is black
And wind rattles through the leaves
But I am high above you in the trees
The ground is hard
Grass is dry
But I will always fly
And sing a sparrow’s song for you

You cry
I dry your tears
You ask why
And I calm your fears

The road is long
No signposts to guide your way
But I make smooth the paths on which you stray
From glaciers high, the river runs
And someone always comes
To share a moment’s peace with you

Last night's gig

I had a blast last night. I was in the mood, I guess, for a gig. The first set went well, we played my new song So This Is Love again. On the break between sets Jeff Chambers called me, he's the bass player I worked with in February and will work with again in June. I'm so amazed by who he has played with and is playing with. Turns out he was in San Diego, on a gig with an 18-year-old Russian piano phenomenon named Eldar. They'll also play Seattle and New York; the kid has a record contract with Sony.

After the break I got up and we did Black Coffee, a blues number. No one was paying attention to us, as often happens on this particular gig--the bar/restaurant is divided in half, and when we play all the patrons either sit at the bar or on the side where we don't play. Suddenly I just started messing around as I sang, lying on tables, dancing (well, I do that anyway), and even ultimately lying on the floor (I threw myself down at the lyric "Feelin' low as the ground... It's driving me crazy, this waitin' for my baby to maybe come around."). I was having so much fun. It was like a new level of freedom that I've always wanted. But no matter what I did, these cute guys on the other side sort of looked at me but turned back to their conversation. I didn't really mind, anyway--the band was laughing and I could tell they really liked my performance. After that they kept on saying "man, we should have had a video camera for that, it was great!" Then between songs I was cracking jokes and actually started to get some laughs from the patrons, so by the end of the evening with all my dancing and antics and heartfelt singing I actually got a rousing bit of applause from them all, which was great.

When I got home I wrote these lyrics:

I Feel So Fine
By Alexandra L. Weber Morales © 2005

I feel so fine
Floating so high
Everything I say is funny
Every twist of my waist full of grace
Every note I sing rings true

I am so free
No one can stop me
I run like Marian Jones
I dance with the Bolshoy ballet
I jump like Michael Jordan

I stand so strong
Nothing I do is wrong
With one hand I lift a bus
I backflip through the air
I swim across the sea

The sick finger of doubt is just out of sight
What is that dark feather obscuring the light?
A monster awaits in my sleep
To say you sinner, you bitch, you creep

I am so right
I fix everyone’s plight
Entire countries respect me
I end conflicts with a smile
All children are happy and healthy

All this I do in my spare time

Who knows how/if it'll turn into a song. But it sort of reminds me of something on Bjork's Post album.