The Austin Chronicle has an excellent article about the making of Voxtrot and their first LP, set for release next week.
Before reading the article, I was curious about the album and knew I'd buy it. Now, I am excited.
That's the power of music features.
Listen: Voxtrot, Kid Gloves.
Buy: Voxtrot, Voxtrot.
What we name ourselves is so important to us, and relatively inconsequential to everyone else.
We know this. Still, we torture ourselves coming up with something cool, but not precious. Nothing too "on the nose" but not too completely abstract. Seriously, over the years, I have spent hours, if not days, engaged in these discussions.
I am not creative. By that, I mean that I am not considered creative: I am no artist/writer/musician. I do have strong opinions. I figure, I am a consumer of music (or whatever), and I am not afraid to be uncool. It's kind of my profession.
So, the creative guys do their thing, and then, I get a vote.
We almost flipped names over the past couple of days. I have loved the name we've been using for a few months. It's a great name. It may be profoundly uncool in ways we cannot quite conceive, but I am long past caring.
For now, we're sticking with our name. It's an easy decision: it's who we are.
We received the first unmixed song from the band's new album on Monday.
To say that we all lost our minds is an understatement. While listening to it for the first time, at the 1:26 mark, I looked down at my hand and I had somehow dialed my partner's entire phone number, so there I sat, yelling into the phone, before it was even half over. Honestly (and I am so glad the guys do not know I write this) I was completely overcome by emotion.
Why?
Well, we already knew it was "a great f**king song." Still, in the hands of our amazing producer, it was somehow better. Now, I have worked with producers before, and I have sat in studios before. I have heard music be pulled from the ether. But, I have never seen such impressive alchemy.
After I heard the entire song, I called our producer and told him I loved the band, him, the manager, their mothers, and everyone who has ever had anything to do with the project. And I meant it.
Now that we're nearing completion, my work begins in earnest. It's scaring the hell out of me. The secret is that it's good enough that I could completely screw up and it would be okay. But, we should keep that between us.
I know without a doubt that Summer is going to be fascinating.
I get a lot of unsolicited contacts from prospective clients. Normally, I am unresponsive and I rarely take on unsolicted business that's not referred to me.
Tonight, I needed a break from the film and fashion stuff, so I returned an unsolicited music call I got this morning.
I ended up having about an hour-long conversation with a rapper who wanted to know exactly what it is I do and how I could help him. I gave him a lot of information and told him how to do a lot of stuff himself. I also sent him to cdfuse.com, of course. I have no idea whether I will work with him or not. (I'll know once I get his package and review my calendar.)
Honestly, that's the thing I love about music. It's like muscle memory. I was exhausted and burned out from a long, hard month. Somehow, just going through the basics and relaying some old anecdotes completely re-energized me.
I didn't have to really think . . . it's just all there.
It was a perfect break from today's irritations and frustrations.
The line-up looks good, but I don't know that I am going this year.
I have been averaging about 5 hours over the course of the Fest for the past few years. I skipped it completely last year -- I was supposed to be in LA, so I neglected to buy passes. Then ended up in Austin anyway, but they were sold out and I didn't feel like getting comped.
What makes it completely ridiculous: it's in my neighborhood. The old entrance was a 10 minute walk (downhill) from my front door.
I've spent the past two days at two restaurants that share a parking lot. I haven't decided yet if that's actually lamer than it sounds. In my defense, it's in my neighborhood and they have excellent free (and secure) wireless access and plenty of outlets.
Last night, I met up with E and S after an event so we could strategize for today's big meeting with F. Except F ended up showing up a couple of hours in. We ended up sitting and talking and drinking for hours.
Then, we met for lunch at 1ish this afternoon. F was extremely late. Almost 2 hours late, I think. After all our substantive discussions, and a fine late lunch, we walked back over to Uncle Billy's for dinner. (Seriously, I love that place.)
I took no notes . . . mainly because I have absolutely no intention of negotiating the deal or actively participating in any discussions.
It feels as though everyone is on the same page. We are definitely all excited to move forward and we'll be making that decision soon.
It's hard to believe how quickly this year is passing. I remember disctinctly conversations I had in November as though they happened last week instead of 7 months ago.
I may have the masters next week, which means the bulk of my work will begin on that project. High stress, but it sounds really great.
At some point, I need a serious vacation: no work, no phone, no email, no talking. I just want to lay on a beach or wander aimlessly around France.
Today on the phone, I entertained a brief fantasy of running away from it all. It could never happen, but it was great to imagine that I would be able to just skedaddle. The place did not matter: anywhere with a beach and strong drinks.
Tomorrow will be a crazy day, but I know we're making progress and I am working with people I really enjoy.
Still, a beach beckons . . .
Melinda gave an good performance of Love You Inside Out. As performed by Feist, this is one of my favorite songs.
Listen: Feist, Inside Out.
Buy: Feist, Let It Die.
The past three or four weeks have been a complete blur.
I have had clients in town, new projects to launch, and deals to close. It's all insane.
I just got home about 20 minutes ago (1 20 am) after an extremely long day that just kept getting longer and longer. It was great, though, and now, I am too wired to sleep.
I have not been listening to much music (the more I talk about music, the less time I have to listen). Last week, I listened to 30 songs. 30!
All day, I have had one song going through my head:
Big Boi ft Purple Ribbon Allstars, Kryptonite.
This has been a favorite song for a while. It's a great club song -- incredibly catchy. As I drove from meeting to meeting, or walked from parking garage to wherever, Kryptonite kept playing in my head, over and over.
Listen: Big Boi ft Purple Ribbon Allstars, Kryptonite.
Buy: Big Boi Presents ... Got Purp?, Vol. 2.
