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Rhapsody In Blue

Instead of working this morning, I decided to tool around online and see if there are any performances upcoming in Vancouver that I want to see.

Yes. Yes, there are.

The VSO is doing Rhapsody In Blue, which is one of my absolute faves and has been for years. I love it. Gershwin is, undeniably, a genius. I have wanted to see a performance of this for ages. So, naturally, I instant messaged my coworker (we have kind of a Finer Things Club. It consists of the two of us; we're awesome like that) and asked if she wants to come with me. Of course she does! So, February 6th, we're going to see it. The best part? I somehow managed to get us seats in the orchestra level, in the fourth row!! For $25!!! It's almost criminal, really.

Does this deserve its own blog? Probably not. But I'm excited for this. Maybe unnaturally so.

But then again...How could I not be?

Breathe.

So I came to a profound realization the other day that will not sound at all like a profound realization. In fact, I'm fully aware that it'll sound ridiculous and people will probably look at me like I'm crazy if I ever say it out loud. But that's what blogs are for! Ha.

So what is this profound realization, you ask? I'll tell you...

Breathing is essential.

(I'm sensing blank stares.) I'll explain the thought process here, and maybe it'll make more sense. Or any sense.

I've started working out. I know. Shocking. Those who know me actually respond with an incredulous "Really?" when I tell them. But it's true. And I feel so much better now that I've carved out that time for it and am sticking to a schedule. But I digress. Anyway, so I'm running the other day and I feel like I'm going to die any second if I don't stop. But I don't stop. Because when it starts to hurt is when it starts to work.

I just changed my breathing pattern. Problem (almost) solved! My asthma still kicked my ass, but I didn't quit on myself (you're allowed to clap. ha).

So, as I got home and stood, sweaty and gross, guzzling water and feeling close to passing out in my kitchen, I realized that breathing is vital to everything. And I don't mean just the in-out-in-out kind of breathing. Obviously, humans need oxygen to survive. This isn't a biology lesson.

What I mean is that breathing is what we're always, always told to do. No matter what. If you're stressed out, take a deep breath. If you're angry, take a deep breath. If you're tired, take a deep breath and stretch. In pain? Breathe it out. In labour (this I know now, since my best friend gave me a detailed account of her 23 hr labour...thanks for that, by the way)? Breathe.

Music is all about finding the right spaces for breaths. Sometimes literally, sometimes not. Talk to any brass or woodwind player, and they'll tell you it's all about taking your breaths at the right time. The best music - sonically, musically, lyrically speaking - leaves room for breath.

(For an example of what I mean, see Lover, You Should've Come Over or Slow Dancing in a Burning Room. Also, there's a song called Laying Here With You by a little-known Canadian country singer, Thomas Wade, that is one of my all time fave songs. It's a wonderful example.)

What I've come to discover is that writing has a lot to do with breathing, too. Not only in the literal sense, when I'm sitting in front of a blank page, the cursor blinking back at me, and I can feel the stories and words swirling around in my head. I always take a big breath before I start typing. I don't know why this is. Probably has something to do with a clean slate, fresh start.

But I also mean this as far as the rhythm and flow of any given sentence or paragraph. I'm not afraid to admit that as I'm writing, I read a lot of my stuff out loud to myself. It gives me an idea of whether I've made the right word choice, or if there are any grammatical errors, which was why I started doing it in the first place. But now it's more than that. It's myself getting into a groove of writing. Sometimes I'll write an entire paragraph that's just one sentence and a lot of commas, but it just flows so well that I don't change it. I learn to take breaths between certain words, and that can change any sentence.

I don't know if people read what I write the same way that I read it. It's kind of cool if they don't, I think. (This comes down to individuality, which is probably the most interesting and amazing things about human beings; I can hear one thing one way and someone else can see it another. Never fails to make me smile, that thought.)

Probably the best example of what I'm talking about (in reference to my own stuff) is Baby, It's a Fine Line. By no means did I stick to any proper sentence structure, and any expert in the English language would absolutely tear it apart, but it's probably my favourite thing I've written. All because it's got a feel to it, a mood, and there's room for breaths in interesting places, and tempo changes and full stops. Maybe I'm crazy, but I'd love to read that piece out loud to someone who I know will appreciate all that. Maybe someday.

I guess what I'm saying is that breathing is something that is so vital to everything we do - literally, metaphorically, spiritually, figuratively - and most of us never pay it any mind.

We should probably do that a little more.

Okay, for real...

I know I talk about Boyz II Men often enough, and people will laugh at that, and I'm fine with that. I am nothing if not understanding about peoples' different tastes in music. I get it, really. And I don't ever want to make it seem like I'm shoving my opinion on any topic or artist down anyone's throat.

That said...(ahem)...

Cut Boyz II Men some slack.

Now, I'm not saying you have to go out and buy all their albums (although...). I'm just saying they deserve so much more respect than they get. These guys practically invented new jack swing, and even if they didn't, they certainly took it to the mainstream. Ever found yourself singing Motown Philly?

"Boyz II Men, ABC, BBD."


End of the Road? On Bended Knee? I'll Make Love to You?

These men are living legends. Yeah, I said that. Legends. And I mean it quite seriously. When you think of other male R&B groups, you think of New Edition (now defunct), Jodeci (ditto). Color Me Badd, Blackstreet, All-4-One? Come on. None of those groups even holds a candle to Boyz II Men, based on longevity alone. These guys have been in the business for 20 years in an era where hardly anyone is in the business for 20 years.

I had the privilege of seeing these guys live about five years ago. I drove an hour and a half because almost as long as I can remember, I have loved them. The show was amazing. Pure vocal skill. Pure, natural skill. Nowadays vocal acrobatics are just so overdone. Anyone who goes on a show like American Idol and sings a few runs can be looked at as some kind of god. These guys' runs are well placed and tasteful. Yes, tasteful. And there is, in my opinion, such a thing as a distasteful run (see; Christina Aguilera, 70% of the time). Wanye Morris is one of the generation's best vocalists. No exaggeration.

And the thing is? Boyz II Men don't get a lot of press. They quietly fly under the radar and keep making records and selling out shows with very little recognition for how they consistently release great music. It's a shame, really, that they don't get the respect they so badly deserve.

The first cassette tape I ever bought was Boyz II Men, II. I was in the fourth grade. On Bended Knee was the first song I ever heard and called my favourite. And it is still on that list.

Speaking of lists, if you were persuaded by any of this to check out some more of their collection, I'll throw out a few of my faves.

1- On Bended Knee. Just a must listen.
2- Can You Stand The Rain. A capella cover of a New Edition song that blows the original out of the water. I cannot listen to this song and not get goose bumps.
3- 4 Seasons of Loneliness. Beautiful concept, beautiful harmonies (as always).
4- The Tracks of My Tears. Another great cover. One of the best songs ever written, but that's a rant for another blog.
5- Water Run Dry. Just...Just listen to it. The melody is enviable. This might not be the best version ever, but I am a sucker for stripped down versions of songs.

And this, off the new album, just blows me away. I Can't Make You Love Me is one of those songs that should just never, ever be touched unless it's certain the artist can do it justice. Needless to say, this cover gets my stamp of approval.

Annnnd end rant.

A very cool idea....I think

So I got this idea today...And I think it is awesome. But then again, I'm biased.

I have this dream image in my head of my future home office. I have always wanted a home office. I don't have one now, and it seriously bums me out. The office will be decorated in black, white and chocolate brown. It'll have a mahogany coloured desk and a full wall of mahogany coloured bookshelves. And for art, I'll have black and white prints of some of my favourite musicians. I have SRV, Hendrix, Ella, Coltrane already. They are about the size of a record cover, and all are really obscure (as in, you can't find the images just by Googling). I've picked them up over the years at flea markets and crazy yard sales.

I've put a lot of thought into this.

And so what is the idea, you ask?

The idea is to create a mosaic using all the covers of the albums I own. I will use a program not unlike this one. It'll take a while, and I'll need to figure out what I want the mosaic to look like when it's done. Maybe a set of headphones? A record player? That would be pretty cool. And it'll be a really cool representation of this stage of my life (or whatever stage I'm in), because I'll obviously continue to compile albums after the mosaic is made.

I wouldn't choose a jukebox, but here's an idea. The mosaic is made up entirely of album covers. Very cool.

Love What You Love

I'd like to think that it's implied that most of the time, I know that what I say won't apply to everyone. I'm no great authority on anything, really, other than how I feel at any given moment.

But I've got a thought that I want to share.

I think that the moment you realize, in any given area, with any given task, that there are expectations on you to perform a certain way or achieve a certain result, that's the moment the fun starts getting sucked out of it.

It's simple math. I know very little about math (really not my strong suit), but I imagine that the equation would look something like this. (Again, the key here is 'imagine'. I'm sure it'd be far more complicated than this.)

X= The Task
Y= The Expectations
Z= The Diminished Desire to Perform the Task

So:

X + Y=Z

And yes, that is ridiculous and unnecessary, and if I were more of a math person I'd actually work it out so it makes sense, but let's just talk about this for a second (I'm better with words, you see).

You find something you like to do - ideally, something you love to do. And one day, someone comes along and says, "Hey, you're really great at that!" Then you work and work and work to be your best at the thing you love, and it feels amazing, because you feel like this, this thing right now, is what you're supposed to be doing. There's no better feeling than that.

And so maybe that person, that first person, comes back to you and starts laying expectations on you, deadlines or whatnot, or starts throwing in their opinions on what you're doing, suggestions on what to change. And you think, okay, this isn't so bad. I'll just work it out. Because after all, the audience is right. Right?

Here's the thing, though. The moment you change your initial way of doing things, that thing that made that person take notice in the first place, you're changing everything. The process, how you think, how you work. And there is no way, absolutely no way, that won't change the end result too. And when the end result changes into something that doesn't feel like you want it to, you start to wonder if you want to do it anymore.

So really, you've twisted the thing you love into something that it never really was, initially. And there's something really tragic about that if you think about it. You love what you love for reasons you don't have to justify or explain to anyone. It's yours.

I don't really know what I'm trying to say here. Maybe it's just as simple as this: Find the thing you love, and don't change a damn thing. The process is usually more fun than the finished product anyway, so don't alter it. Because at the end of the day, people can tell when you love what you do. It shows in your work and on your face.

It'd be a shame if no one could ever experience what you love, the way you love it.

Or maybe I'm just rambling and this only makes sense in my head.

I have been a music geek my whole life.

And I say that with as much affection as humanly possible.

I remember playing Nintendo with my brother, both of us more interested in humming or whistling the theme to SMB (Super Mario Brothers, of course) than getting power ups or beating the dragon. We were obsessed with this game, mostly because it was about one of four that we had. I got my brother a tee shirt a few years ago with a picture of a Gumba on it and the words "YOU LOSE" in block letters.

Yeah. We are awesome.

So when the commercial for the new SMB Wii game came on last night and the theme was playing, I kind of lost my mind a little bit. Then, random, but a friend of mine texted me "Google image search Music and see the crazy shit that comes up!" (that is verbatim.) So of course, I Google image search Music.

And look what came up!
Yes, that is the score for the SMB theme. And yes, I fully intend on learning to play this. And yes, I have already emailed it to my brother, and his response was merely "YES!"

I've talked about it before, these little musical coincidences that happen. They come up when you need a reminder, I believe. Apparently, I needed to be reminded of how it felt to be 8 years old, sitting in a bright pink beanbag chair, humming along to this song.

And you know what? It's a good kind of nostalgia.

All in my head

Every now and again, a song comes along that grabs you by the heart and holds onto you. You realize that the song is, somehow, written like a song you would have written. Does that make sense? I just mean that it feels in some strange way like it came from your own head and heart and not someone else's.

I've talked about it before, the idea of an artist growing with you, or you growing with an artist, as the case may be. I guess there's no real difference; both those things are the same, ultimately connecting you in some way with someone you have never and probably will never meet. I think most people know that John Mayer is this artist for me. I feel like John at 24-25 was me at 18-19. John at 29 was me at 22-23. John at 32 is me at 25.

It's so weird that sometimes I think I'm making it up, but it feels like he writes exactly what I need to hear, exactly what I'm feeling but just can't (or won't) express.

His new album comes out next week, and it was leaked (of course). I told myself I wasn't going to listen until I get the album, but I had to listen to Half of My Heart, a song he blogged/posted a video of when he was in the process of writing/recording it. I loved it even then, when all he was showcasing was guitar and some cool harmonies on the chorus. Taylor Swift sings BGs on the final cut.

This song is killer. I have a feeling this album is going to represent the best of all three of his prior albums. Acoustic rhythm, blues riffs, and rock undertones. I think he's taking all those incarnations of who he is as a musician and melding them all together into something really, really special.

And what's more, his lyrics slay me. Absolutely slay me. For instance:

I was born in the arms of imaginary friends
Free to roam made a home out of everywhere I've been
Half of my heart has a real good imagination
Half of my heart's got you
Half of my heart's got a right mind to tell you that
Half of my heart won't do
Half of my heart in a shotgun wedding
To a bride with a paper ring
But half of my heart is the part of a man
Who's never truly loved anything

Read the following.

Looking For Alaska is probably - nay, definitely is - the most incredible book I have read in years. (For the record, since The Way The Crow Flies by Anne Marie MacDonald).

It's captivating, entertaining, insightful, beautiful, heartbreaking, morbid, funny, and somehow uplifting. How the author so wonderfully portrays all those things in one story without seeming overeager or leaving any one thought malformed, I'm not entirely sure. But he does it. And he does it with a style that is enviable.

The book is reminiscent of The Catcher In The Rye, which, I am sad to say, I didn't enjoy nearly as much as I felt I was supposed to. Alaska has the same feeling, but...more of it, somehow. I don't know how to describe it any better than to say that I wanted to relate to Holden, but I genuinely did relate to Miles.

There aren't words to describe how wonderful I found this book. I suggest anyone who enjoys reading, read it.


Now I am reading this (and it his hilarious, and I love it):


And after that, I will read this:

It's safe to say I have a new favourite author.

I once read that writers shouldn't read others' work while trying to write their own. To this, I say 'bullocks'. Reading inspires me. Reading a really good book is to a writer what listening to Hendrix is to a guitar player. You read the words and study the structure and try to figure out a way to emulate it, all while using your own voice. You want to keep your own style and your own spirit, but somehow take away bits and pieces of what you love from other people.

I think all art forms are driven at least a little bit by the act of imitation.

The Word 'Just'

So here's a little rant that'll probably mean nothing to anyone, since in all likelihood I won't be able to explain my point properly.

It's not just a game.

It's not just a song.

It's not just a book.

It's not just a feeling.

If it is something, it's not just something. It's never just something.

It's a slap in the face when someone takes something you love and puts the word 'just' in front of it. It's patronizing and offensive, and people should learn not to do it. Think about it. You love your dog? If someone were to say to you, "it's just a pet," you'd probably be pretty upset, because that dog is a hell of a lot more than a pet to you.

This is not the intended use of this word, if you ask me.

And that's not just semantics.

The beauty of failure

I once read an article written by John Mayer in Rolling Stone where he was asked to write about Jimi Hendrix in 'The Immortals' issue (one of the best issues ever, FYI). And not surprisingly, he said something that is not only poignant in regards to Hendrix's influence on the music industry, but also in regards to just music and artists in general.

Mayer said; "Who I am as a guitarist is defined by my failure to become Jimi Hendrix."

And so as I go through some old albums, ones that I listened to as a 'kid', really, I realize that I have done the same thing. Who I am as a vocalist is defined by my failure to become Wanye Morris or Justin Timberlake. Who I am as a musician is largely defined by my almost obsessive need to learn the harmony lines in each and every *NSync song. It was a compulsion. I'd listen to the albums, certain songs, even, for hours on end, headphones over my ears, laying on my bedroom floor at 15 years old, trying to emulate Justin's phrasing and runs and musicality.

It's an interesting thing, too, because I listen to these songs now, headphones over my ears as I sit in my office, and I can still sing those runs. I can still pick Joey's voice out of the five part harmony and sing his line if I want to, then switch over to JC's part the next line. It's a little crazy, because at 25, I have both no business listening to *NSync (but I will not stop, because I maintain that they are brilliant), and I have no business remembering such musical intricacies from an album released in 1998. But my best friend and I loved them, and we were/are both singers. At 15 and 17 respectively, we decided that I sounded more like Justin and she sounded more like JC, so we'd sing those songs, each guys' parts claimed as our own, until we got them perfect.

And it was a perfect learning experience that I didn't even realize I was part of. As part of the audition process to get into the vocal jazz program I was eventually accepted to, I was required to prepare a 'lift'. What that means is that you listen to a song by another artist, and you emulate their intonation, phrasing, and style as best you can. Well, not to sound conceited, but I aced it. I'd been doing it for years, since I bought Boyz II Men's II album on cassette (the first album I ever bought) and decided that I wanted to be able to sing runs like they could. The first vocal competition I placed first in, I sang Open Arms. I essentially copied Mariah's version.

I can still transform my voice to copy whoever I'm listening to, which freaks out my brother (a semi-professional musician who has toured the globe with an award-winning artist). He laughs when he hears me singing like Justin, that bit of a smokey, sultry rasp. He thinks it's hilarious that the next second, I can sing with all the swing of Ella. I can bust out a Miranda Lambert song and have a Texan accent singing Famous in a Small Town. Granted, this is usually after a few drinks, when everything is a little funnier. And it's even weirder, because when I sing my own songs, that's when my true voice comes out. Sometimes I hear myself on recordings of my own songs and it startles me a little, because I spend so much time singing like other people, that it's strange to hear myself.

There is no doubt that I'm an auditory learner. I'm not sure if that's innate or learned, or maybe a little bit of both.

And in one of those evenings, after quite a bit of Mount Guay rum, my brother and I, both of us saxophone players, got to talking about *NSync and how good this song is, and we decided it'd be awesome to work out a 5-part saxophone arrangement (one baritone, one tenor, two alto, and one soprano).

We never did it. I still want to. I may just have to talk to him about that...

It's Hard to Understand

Music is one of the only things that, if you really think about it, is so intensely complex, it'll hurt your head to comprehend it. (Architecture is probably the only other thing that I feel this way about, and maybe even more so, because I at least understand music to a degree. Architecture just amazes me.)

Music is just so multi-faceted, so many things on so many levels, and there is absolutely no one in the world who can possibly understand it all. No one. I am convinced of that. Lyrics, notes, percussion, chords, 3 or 4 or 10 or 20 or 60 or 100 piece bands. Think about that, the complexity of 100 people on so many different instruments, playing different lines, on different cues, sometimes in different time signatures. And one writer writing it. Think of a orchestral piece, strings, brass, woodwinds and percussion, instruments in different keys and pitches, and one mind puts them all together into something so incredible. Talk about a beautiful mind.

I just got goosebumps thinking about it.

I was listening to John Coltrane today, and Coltrane is one of those musicians I cannot ever, ever, ever listen to on shuffle, and here's why: Coltrane is an artist whose progression of talent you can hear, starting from his earliest recordings, moving on to his latest. You can quite literally hear him getting better. When I was younger and all my friends (every last one of them) was in the jazz program at the college we went to, we had an indepth discussion about this. The transformation of early Coltrane to late Coltrane is masterful, and apparently there are spades of unreleased material that we may or may not ever get to hear.

And sure, every artist progresses, but it doesn't seem to happen the same way anymore. Everything is so polished, and the artists worth listening to (there are so, so many who aren't) have, to a degree, started to master their craft before they even cut their first record. And a lot of those won't release more than two albums.

So it makes you wonder what it's like to be in someone else's mind, someone else who obviously has a better handle on it than you do. I don't mean, like, Bach or Beethoven. I mean someone like John Mayer (typical of me, I know). But when you hear a John Mayer song, you know you're hearing a John Mayer song. Not because he's got a formula or there's anything predictable about it, but because he's got a feel. Layering, and yes, a distinctive guitar tone. I can't even comprehend what it's like to be in his head when he's writing. I know what happens in my own, but I am not the musician or writer he is.

Or someone like Alicia Keys, who is such a brilliant artist. In my opinion (one that a lot of people might scoff at), she resurrected R&B in the early 2000's; bridged the gap between more adult contemporary artists and the 'whisper singers' like Ashanti who did absolutely nothing for the genre. Alicia writes her own songs, and does it brilliantly. I've seen clips of her in the studio, and when she's in the zone, it's almost like you're afraid to look at her, like you're witnessing something too personal, but you can't help it. She's intense and focused, like whatever idea is in her head is going to torture her until she gets it perfectly on paper and on record.

I realize I don't really know that feeling. Sure, I am a bit of a perfectionist, and I'm creative, and I'll wake up at three in the morning and write for hours, because if I don't write this, right now, it's going to disappear. It'll be gone forever and I'll never get it back, and what if that was the perfect thing and I let it slip away?

I wonder if that's a neurosis every artist has.

But if it is, I'm almost certain that it's that very neurosis that fuels the progression.

Sure You Will...

It has always made me laugh when people (musicians I know) say things like the following:

"Yeah. If I don't make it as an entertainer, maybe I'll just be a session musician or something."

Okay. Sure. Here's the thing.... No, you won't. I have only known two people who were session musicians. One is a reigning fiddle champion, the other is an insanely gifted guitar player. (For instance, Alan Jackson's guitar tech heard this guy warming up and told him that he was the best guitar player he'd ever heard...yeah. He's pretty good.)

My point is, nine times out of 10, the session musicians are more talented than the talent. Of course, there are exceptions, but it's not like anyone can just walk into any given studio and say "Hey, I'm a drummer. Got any session work?" Doesn't work that way. You have to pay your dues just like everyone else. It's a focused endeavor, I'd gather.

This is what I'm talking about. Brent Mason has played with anyone who is anyone in country music, basically. And most people have never heard of him. I have heard very few guitar players as good as this guy, and even fewer who can pick like him. Think he's got a little bit of talent? I'd say so. Also, the bass player Michael Rhodes, is one of those guys every fan of country music has seen and heard, but most probably don't know his name.

If you haven't yet seen Standing in the Shadows of Motown, watch it. These are the quintessential session players. Their stories are actually pretty hilarious, more than anything, but it gives you an idea.

So all I'm saying is that if one can't make it as a 'performer', they probably won't be making it as a session musician either.

I Broke The Rules

I put on one album today, listened to approximately 15 seconds of the first song, and had to turn it off. The guilt overwhelmed me for breaking the promise to listen to all my music. I just couldn't do it. I can't.

Bedouin Soundclash is the most unimaginative, self-indulgent (musically speaking) band. Hint to these guys: You're not Bob Marley. You're not cool and edgy. You fit a niche four years ago that was for some reason open and people took an interest. That doesn't mean you're good.

I couldn't listen to the album. It was the only CD my travel partner would listen to while we drove from Toronto to Vancouver. Yes, I had a milk crat full of CDs, and he had an iPod. But we listened to his iPod (his taste was questionable at best) and this album, and he gave it to me as a gift to commemorate the journey.

It just annoys the hell out of me.

So you'll have to forgive me for breaking the rules.

I will now go dance around my apartment to Beyoncé, who comes after BS (hahahaha. Bedouin Soundclash = BS. Fitting) in my collection.

10 Years Later, No Further Ahead

It's all a cliché, really. That saying, "I want to figure out what I want to do with my life." The crazy thing is, I started thinking about it when I was like, 12 (I wanted to be a lawyer). At 15, I started looking at colleges (I no longer wanted to be a lawyer). At 17, I went to college (I graduated high school early). I graduated college at 20, moved across the country, then got my first proper job at 21.

I took PR in school because it seemed versatile. I turned down a spot in one of the most reputable and respected vocal jazz programs in North America (they accept 14 people a year out of approximately 400 applicants) to take PR. It seemed like a rational choice at the time. I never really regretted it. Until now.

Now I'm 25, and I still have no clue what I want to do. It seems every step of the journey has just been a placeholder. I worked in a shoe store just until I got a better job. I worked at the bottom of the totem pole until I got promoted. Then I did get promoted. Twice in one year actually. Now I am as high up as I can get in this company, and I feel like my work is done here. I'm not fulfilled by work anymore.

So I started thinking about what it is that does fulfill me.

Music. That's it. Well, music and writing.

I don't want to work in PR. Every position and job posting I look at looks absolutely like the last thing I want to do. I don't want to churn out press releases for some corporation. I don't want to plan decadent events. I certainly don't want to sell advertising space. People have suggested I go back to school, but I don't think I want to do that either.

My mom keeps saying I'm at a crossroads. Feels more like a dead end.

All the things I love are 'recreational'. I want to turn my love of words and music into a career.

I'm trying to figure out how to do that.

Dream Gig

So today, while enjoying some downtime after deadlines, a friend of mine asked me a question I wasn't prepared for.

The question was this: "What 5 musicians would you most want to sing with?"

Sounds simple, right? I'm sure most people would rattle off five names and that'd be that. Not me. I had follow up questions. Would it be studio recording or live performance? What kind of venue are we talking? Can the artists be dead or alive? Any specific genre?

You get the idea. So she set the parameters as such: The artist must be alive, it would be a live performance in a small-ish venue (1,000-5,000 people). And yes, we got that specific, or it would have taken me ages and ages to compile my list of five people. The links will take you to some awesome live videos.

1: John Mayer. This one wouldn't matter what the details were. Dead, alive, performance or studio. I'd just love to pretty much do anything with him. Write a song, lay down some vocals, sit and watch in awe as he took a solo. Whatever. That said, I've got a wicked harmony part worked out for Slow Dancing in a Burning Room. Just sayin'.

2: Vince Gill. One of my all time fave singers. Totally brilliant musician who, though he's been nominated for and won almost every award out there, is so underrated it's not even funny. His was the second concert I ever went to. He was brilliant. I was 12 years old, and I fell in love with his music even more. That love affair hasn't ended.

3: Marc Broussard. Marc and I could get it funky, and I don't mean that in any dirty way (the guy's married and has three kids!). His music just makes you smile. He could pick any song and tell me to sing the BGs and I'd be game. Hell, he could tell me to sing on every song and I'd be game. Just love this soul/R&B/funk vibe he's got himself into. It's his sound; no one else out there has it.

4: Patty Griffin. You know how I feel about her. I can hear myself singing Trapeze or Burgundy Shoes with her. Or Heavenly Day, the song that can turn my mood around no matter what.

5: This is a tie, because I simply cannot choose between these two men. Brian McKnight and D'Angelo. Love them both immensely. It's ridiculous, really. Brian is a master. D'Lo can sing like nobody's business. Don't know what else to say. These two are each geniuses in their own right. With Brian, I'd want to sing 6, 8, 12. With D'Lo, probably Send It On or Untitled (How Does it Feel) or maybe Brown Sugar.

So there you have it. My list of five. Sort of. I know it's a cop out to have a tie, but...well, it's my list, and I say it's allowed.

The Start of the B's

Like I said, the B's section in my collection is pretty huge, so I'm going to give some thoughts as I have them, so as not to forget.

My morning consisted of Lloyd Banks (yes. I know) and Barenaked Ladies. This afternoon is Dave Barnes, The Beatles, Bedouin Soundclash (I think I will cringe...not into them AT ALL anymore) and maybe a little Beyoncé if I can get to it.

Here's the thing: Lloyd Banks' The Hunger for More is one of those albums I bought...I don't know why. But I liked it, legitimately liked it, for a long time. Listening today, I was a little disgusted by my own lack of taste. The rappers I like are Common, Kanye, Jay-Z, Lupe Fiasco, Mos Def, etc., and so on. Lloyd Banks raps about pretty much everything I hate about rap. But I listened to the whole thing, because I couldn't break that promise to myself to listen to every song on every album (slightly neurotic, I know). There are a few good tracks, but there's a good chance that album is not coming off the shelf again any time soon.

Now. Barenaked Ladies. Gordon came out in 1992. Which would make me 8 at the time of its release. This is an album that is a Canadian classic. I'm sure we all remember hearing If I Had $1,000,000 on the radio and laughing at how ridiculous it was. But that album is a bit of a stroke of genius, really. Highlights are Enid, What a Good Boy (that song is absurdly good), and Blame it on Me. The harmonies, the musicality, the jazz sensibilities...It's all just really good.

Now I'm onto Dave Barnes. I listen to a little Dave Barnes (1 or 2 songs) almost every day. He always seems to come on myTunes (almost always on shuffle), and I very rarely ever skip over him. But here's what I've discovered: Listening to the album in its entirety, from start to finish, is far, far more fulfilling. I can appreciate the songs better this way somehow. This pretty much goes for every artist/album.

Albums are created meticulously. They don't just throw the songs on there in any order and hit 'burn' and that's the record. There's a serious thought process that goes into it. Which songs go where. One thing I've noticed over the years is that very, very often, track #5 on any given record will be a slower song or a serious ballad. This makes sense. After five up-tempo or mid-tempo songs, you can slow it down without losing your listener.

Anyway, I guess what I'm getting at is that in the day and age where you can download one song off an album, or shuffle up your entire collection, we're losing a little of the artistry that goes into making a record.

It's nice to enjoy that again.

David Nail

David Nail.

Honestly, I could just leave that here, a link to his site, and let you guys discover him on your own, but...I just can't.

That said, I don't know if I can explain this properly either. This is my attempt...bear with me.

I was listening to a random song from 2006 yesterday (Josh Turner's Your Man) on Youtube, and one of the 'related videos' was a song by David Nail. I'd heard the name thrown around from time to time, but our exposure to really good acts out of Nashville is limited up here in Canada. I listened to his song Red Light.

And then every other song I could find.

Then one of my fave artists (Josh Hoge) tweeted about David Nail.

And then I bought his album.

Every once in a while, you buy music that, before you're even done listening to the album in its entirety, you know that it's going to be a favourite of yours. I'm trying to remember the last time this happened (other than The BP3). I have a feeling this album, I'm About To Come Alive, is going to get me through to January. Sure, there are albums slated for release before then (notably, John Mayer's new one) that I'm looking forward to, but I have a feeling this one is going to be a standby.

It'll be one of those albums that you just put on any time. Driving, working, reading, writing, doing housework. Whatever. It's got a good vibe to it. At the risk of sounding like a total weirdo, it feels warm somehow. It feels like Nashville (a city I've been trying to get to for years and years). There are a few country artists who feel like Nashville to me. Miranda Lambert is one (she sings backgrounds on this album, by the way). Chuck Wicks is another, to a degree. Lee Ann Womack is another. And there's a difference between being country and sounding country, and being country and sounding like Nashville.

That sounds completely absurd.

I'm going to shut up now and just let the guy's music say what I can't.

David Nail - Red Light (official video)

Smile and Cry and Laugh

So we all know I can cry big ugly tears over music/songs/lyrics.

Almost every musician I know can also do an odd high-pitched laugh that is born from complete awe and admiration of something they hear. It's something that is absurd, really, but the most common reaction to some kind of musical brilliance is to laugh. And it's a great sound. Sitting in a roomful of musicians and listening to Pino Palladino's basslines on The RH Factor's Hard Groove album was one of the coolest things I've ever experienced. Just laughter. It's almost like we don't know how else to express ourselves in those moments when we're amazed.

I also tend to get a big, wide, ridiculous smile on my face. Probably the biggest kind of smile you'll ever see from me. Teeth and all that.

Very, very rarely will one song elicit all these responses from me. Very rarely.

Slow Dancing in a Burning Room is one.

And this: Patty Griffin - Let Him Fly (Live)

Let Him Fly was the first Patty Griffin song I ever heard, and it was like something shifted in me. Literally, something changed. I wasn't the same after that. I think I've listened to this song a thousand times (no joke). Often imitated, never duplicated. This song is just so, so damn perfect. Literally, one of the most perfectly constructed songs I think I've ever heard.

Youtube just took me to this live version, and I had a little moment in my office. Smiling, but tears in my eyes, then I laughed a little. My best friend, who works in the same office as me, walked by and asked if I was okay.

More than okay.

This woman changed my life. I will never forget sitting in my basement apartment in Toronto, my computer set up in the little corner in my bedroom, listening to this song for the first time.

I know I talk about Patty a lot. Don't expect that to change.

Random Thoughts Lead To Not-so-Random Thoughts

Every so often, I'll be listening to music and I'll have a thought that blows my mind.

(For example: What if Julian Lennon and Stella McCartney got married? What if they had a baby? I know I sound like a total stoner, but that right there is freaking craziness.)

Anyway....

I have been listening to a lot of rap lately, specifically Common, Jay-Z, Kanye, Lupe (basically, the best rappers around, in my opinion...and my standards for rap are pretty high). I was listening to D.O.A. today because I am hopelessly addicted to The Blueprint III right now, and the line "Only rapper to re-write history without a pen" stuck out to me. (So does "The more space I get the better I write, Oh, Never I write. But if ever I write, I need the space to say whatever I like.")

Now, I've heard producers - I think it was Kanye, actually - talk about just being present when Jay-Z is in the booth. How during 99 Problems, they just started the track and Jay just started rhyming, and he was doing all the voices on the spot without writing anything down. That's effing ridiculous. That's genius.

So I was thinking today about Jay-Z just being this brilliant artist and amazing mind, and I got to wondering. I wonder if Jay-Z is ever listening to the radio and someone else's song comes on and he comes up with his own shit in his head, you know? Like, I wonder if he ever listens to Kanye's records and has a hundred different things in his mind that he would have put on the track instead.

When you think about all the things Jay-Z says, you have to wonder about all the things he doesn't say.

...Or maybe that's just me...

Doesn't matter if it's a writer, a rapper, a musician, a painter, whatever, there's always a million things going on in an artist's head - I think I can safely say that. So that's why I carry around a pen and pad of paper wherever I go. I'm always looking for that quote, or listening for that line in a song. Or I'm thinking of something that I need to write, and I have to pull my car over and scribble it down. I do this a lot. Before I invested in what I affectionately call my 'Hook Book', I used to write on receipts or pay-parking slips. Or my arm. Once I wrote on the back of my Blockbuster card because I had nothing else.

Basically, all this contemplation today lead to the idea/thought/confirmation that the most complex place on the planet is probably inside any artist's mind.

Aaliyah to Augustana

Finally finished the A's in my collection. I think I underestimated how long this experiment is going to take. I might have to up my game a little bit. Especially considering there are over twice the amount of B's as there are A's.

So here are just a few notes on the first leg of the journey; things I thought and had the sense to write down in my little journal so I could share with you.

- Aaliyah's self-titled 2001 album could be released and every single track on there would/could be a hit. Absolutely brilliant. She was the one who worked with Timbaland before working with Timbaland was cool.

- Ryan Adams is the coolest weirdo ever. I say weirdo with love. Cold Roses is one of those albums in my collection that I can always put on. Always. If I don't know what I want to listen to and I put on that record, it becomes what I want to listen to. I don't know if I've explained that well, but it's true.

- Most people would probably say Cryin' is their favourite Aerosmith ballad, but mine is Angel. Love that song. Love the album it's on.

- Jann Arden With the VSO is an incredible live album that anyone with ears should listen to on headphones. Make yourself some tea, light a couple candles, put on headphones, enjoy.

- India.Arie. Pure love. Uplifting. Spiritual. Beautiful.

-Augustana is one of the few bands that I would rather not listen to on headphones. There's something about putting their music on real loud in the car, or real loud in the house and just letting it swallow you. Sweet and Low is one of my all-time favourite driving songs.

And now, on to the B's. There are easily 35 albums in this section. This could take a while!

I've Got Dreams

I very rarely ever remember my dreams. It just doesn't happen often. Maybe (mayyyybe) once every three months, I'll remember something I've dreamed.

Now I've remembered two nights in a row, and they've been shockingly similar. The same person was in both, in completely different situations, but with the same outcome. I honestly don't know what to think about this. Part of me wants to just ignore it and chalk it up to a very emotional week, but I don't know if it's just that.

I tend to get just a little neurotic, especially concerning the unknown. Because as I recall these two dreams, I can't help but wonder if there have been others. Maybe I've been having the variations on the same dream for weeks, or months, or hell, years. Who knows? Not me. That freaks me out. Because what if these dreams mean more than I think they do? I don't necessarily believe in dream interpretation or any of that, but it is really odd, at least for me, to have essentially the same dream - and remember it - two nights in a row.

I really don't want to over think this. But like everything that comes with the particular person in these dreams, I can't help but over think. That's the way it's always been. I'm not sure if that's the way it should always be.

Bad Timing, That's All

Last night, for the first time in ages (literally, since I can remember) I cried over something that wasn't a song or a television show or a movie or a commercial.

It just hit me all at once, and I realized that now there's another thing connecting us, but it's still not enough.

And crying isn't fun when you have something legitimate to cry over.

*Repeat. The New Playlist


A few songs got cut out of the image. They are:

Cold Desert - KOL
Butch Cassidy - Josh Hoge
Now That You're Gone - Ryan Adams
Forgive Me - Missy Higgins
Stay - Gavin DeGraw

It's Only Life

So many people say that life is short. Maybe it is.

It doesn't feel like it though, does it?

Maybe it's just me, and I'm totally okay if it is, but life feels really, really big to me. A huge unknown with a million questions that can't be answered and maybe shouldn't be asked. And it's easy to say that it sucks and to think that it sucks, but it only sucks if you let it. It sucks if you can't see a silver lining anywhere or focus on the positives. It sucks if you let yourself think that it sucks.

But you need to laugh and blush and take deep breaths and pray and believe and love and hate (the good way; the passionate way, with reason and explanation and purpose). You need to cry and feel your heart break and then put it back together because that's what it takes to find the one who won't break it again. You need to smile and you need to close your eyes for a second when something hits your heart unexpectedly. You need to sing along with the radio when that song comes on, just because you can't not sing to it. You need to suffer through songs that tear out your heart, because you'll be stronger in the end if you can just get through them. You need to take chances and take risks and scare the hell out of yourself every once in a while. (And maybe let someone else scare the hell out of you every once in a while). You need to write and talk and keep your mouth closed when you don't know what to say. You need to sleep in late and wake up early and drink three cups of coffee instead of two just because you feel like it. You need to find the good and hold onto that and open your heart and let yourself think that you're worth every damn second that you're on this planet and living this life.

Because in the end, none of it matters if it didn't make you feel something.

Solidifying my love of run-on sentences.


On the grander scale

Okay, so here's the thing...

(You know what I'm going to say is going to be a rant when I start with those words.)

The people who live above me have a 10-year-old daughter who plays piano. Their piano is right above my living room, so for the past two years, I have listened to her practice. Every day. Loudly. This is fine. I took piano lessons for close to 10 years. I understand the need/desire to practice your little behind off to get those songs perfected. This is not the problem.

The problem is that she feels the need to try to play everything as fast as she possibly can. Fast until she hits a difficult part, then she slows down, then speeds up again once she's comfortable. No matter how it's supposed to sound. And hey, I used to do this to, to a degree. Every kid did. Hell, my brother learned to play The Entertainer from memory while laying backwards on the piano stool (he's special).

However, she also doesn't stop when she makes mistakes. She just keeps going each time she stumbles. This is fine in a performance, but how is she to learn the song if she doesn't address the mistakes?! I almost want to call her teacher and ask how she's telling the girl to practice. Mine (Sharon, a wonderful woman and great teacher) always told me that any time you make a mistake, you start over at the beginning of the song. I can't tell you how many times I had to start over, or how many hours I spent going over the same songs until I got them committed to memory and perfected. But I got them perfect.

And yes, (to quote AI) we're talkin' 'bout a practice.

And now she's learning scales. I'm impressed, actually. A lot of instructors, unless the student is learning conservatory, bypass scales altogether. This is mind-boggling to me. Absolutely insane. How any self-respecting music teacher could bypass teaching the scale is beyond me. I just do not understand. Anyway, she is learning scales, and again, she's playing them as quickly as she can, making mistakes and not correcting them. There's no point to learning scales if you're not going to learn them correctly.

It's driving me insane! I want to buy her a metronome and teach her how to use it. I think it'd be out of line if I did that very thing...

And yes, I did used to teach music. I taught saxophone and flute to several students, and I ran a children's choir when I was in high school. I'm not an expert, by any means, but I do think I know what I'm talking about.

A musician is not a musician if they cannot keep time.

If I may...

Do you ever get the feeling that every person you talk to is just waiting for you to finish talking so that they can talk about themselves? That's kind of what I'm dealing with right now. And the thing is? I'm the one feeling selfish! It makes me feel bad to want to get a word or two in. It's not like I want a stage and a microphone and a captive audience, I just don't want to feel bad for bringing up my own points.

But as my friend put it today when we were talking about this (she's going through the same thing): "Didn't you realize you aren't allowed to have problems?"

I'm a relatively private person. I don't like to share all my business, and I don't exactly offer up information about myself unless I'm asked (this blog excluded). That doesn't mean that I don't want to talk about anything ever. It's exhausting - legitimately draining - to listen to people talk about themselves all the time.

I could never be a therapist.

Glee

I know that I probably shouldn't love this show nearly as much as I do, but I don't care. I don't care who knows it, and I don't care if it makes me a total nerd to admit it (that's never stopped me before).

This show is so fantastic. It is hilarious, for starters. The humour is understated and just perfect. These actors are perfectly cast. It's not as unrealistic as most shows on television today.

But that's not why I love it. Obviously, I love it for the music. This show makes singing cool again. I remember being in high school and in choir, and we had to beg and plead for people to join. Of course, once one of the popular guys joined, six of the popular guys joined... But Glee makes it okay for people to enjoy singing. I adore it.

I cannot wait to see the changes this is going to bring to kids in high schools all over. High School Musical has done it's part. Glee's going to take that over and do one better. I bet you'll see glee clubs popping up in schools that never had a real music program. It'll be great.

And no, I'm not over-exaggerating. Not at all.

Since you asked...

Someone (Jo) asked for my 'workout playlist'. It's a bit bi-polar. That shouldn't surprise you. It's about 80 songs long (not bad for someone who doesn't work out, huh?) so I'll just pick the essentials - the songs that I always seem to gravitate to when I do in fact go for a run or whatever (doesn't happen often.)

You Belong With Me - T. Swift
Shine - Laura Izibor
No One - A. Keys
Love Don't Live Here - Lady A.
Blame It - Jamie Foxx
Touch the Sky - Kanye
A Lot Like Me - Dave Barnes
This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race - Fall Out Boy
Respect - Aretha (I mean, come on...)
Just a Memory - Jason Blaine
Rock Your Body - Justin Timberlake
From My Heart to Yours - Laura Izibor
Real Good Thing - Marc Broussard
Getyourway - David Ryan Harris
Bad - MJ
Dirty Diana - MJ
In Love With a Girl - Gavin DeGraw
Get to Know Ya - Maxwell
360 - Josh Hoge
Tattoo - Jordin Sparks
Don't Let Our Love Start Slippin' Away - Vince Gill
Love Song for No One - John Mayer
Señiorita - JT
Irreplaceable - Beyoncé

So there you go. A little taste. But here's the thing, you have to know what gets your own heart going and your adrenaline pumping. Apparently for me, that's a little bit of everything.

Cannot Concentrate

I drank three coffees today before 9:00. I am wired. I am listening to mellow music in an attempt to calm myself down. It's not working. Apparently, caffeine highs are immune to the effects of Damien Rice and David Gray.

Who knew?

Maybe I'm going about this wrong. Maybe I need to listen to something that's going to make me chair dance (I do this a lot and don't care who sees; besides, my coworkers are used to it by now). I need to work off the caffeine. My stomach hurts. I have no attention span. It is very, very counterproductive.

Now...Where's my playlist of 'workout' music.

Note: I don't really work out. I just made the playlist because I thought it might motivate me. That plan didn't quite pan out...

A-Z (well, W)

As you have probably guessed from previous posts, I have an intense connection to my CD collection (I say connection instead of obsession...it just sounds nicer. And it's probably more accurate). Today, as I was slipping some albums back into their rightful places after swapping out some of the albums in my car with new ones (this happens about once every two weeks), I decided to do something fun.

Recently, I haven't found any new music I've felt like buying. Nothing has really spoken to me lately, and so I've been listening to the standbys (those being, Continuum, Little Voice, Everything She Was, Carencro, Chasing Mississippi, et. al.) instead of buying new albums. I spent a half hour in HMV yesterday looking for something - anything - new to listen to, but nothing grabbed me. I came home empty handed. I honestly cannot tell you the last time I left a record store without buying something. It just doesn't happen. Which explains why I have 400 albums (give or take) sitting on the shelf next to me.

So I decided that I need to reconnect with the music I already have. Instead of searching for something new, I should search for gems (albums, songs, lyrics) among my existing collection. The problem with this is that I always seem to gravitate towards the same albums or artists. The failsafes.

So how do I propose to remedy this? Funny you should ask!

I'm going to listen to my entire collection in alphabetical order. Aaliyah (she's playing now!) to Hank Williams. Every genre, every artist, every song. I will skip nothing. Of course, I'll listen to other stuff in this time period. For instance, at work, I'll listen to myTunes on my laptop, obviously, and deviate from the plan, but I'm allowing myself that. It's when I'm at home that I'll stick to listening to my albums this way.

It'll be fun. This will take me weeks of time. I am excited about this.

And really, that's what I've been searching for these past few weeks; something to get me excited about music again.

Continuum

Had a very strange day today, and it threw me off balance. It happens sometimes. Weird encounters and weird phone calls and just...weirdness.

I needed something to restore the balance, and I needed something I could be in control of. So I grabbed my keys and got in my car. Driving always clears my head, and something about having my hands on the wheel and being the one who makes all the choices (with very few variables) is ridiculously empowering and soothing to me.

I drove my favourite route along the ocean with the windows down and John Mayer playing. I don't exaggerate when I say that his music can get me through anything. I can't tell you how many times I've listened to Continuum. I honestly don't know. A staggering amount, whatever it is.

Tonight, I turned Gravity up real, real loud and let myself believe that maybe I finally know the place JM was in when he wrote that song; a song I've loved since first listen. (It's wanting more that's gonna send me to my knees.)

Tonight, Stop This Train seemed to hit my heart a little more than usual. (So scared of getting older. I'm only good at being young.)

Tonight, In Repair was kind of like a promise that (not now, but soon) I'll be able to listen to that song and have it mean what it's supposed to mean. (I'm not together, but I'm getting there.)

So the music did exactly what I hoped it'd do. I didn't have a lot of hope that it would, to be honest. I should have had more faith in John.

Say What You Are, Be What You Say

I once read a book on 'tips for being a successful writer'. Well, 'read' would be a generous description. I browsed through it in the bookstore. I kind of thought it was bullshit. You can't just read a book and be a writer. It doesn't work that way. It takes a hell of a lot more than that.

But I digress.

The only thing in that book that I found valid at all - that made sense to me - was the author said something along the lines of, if you want to write, if you want to be a writer, SAY you're a writer.

Don't say you write. Don't say you kind of toy with things. Don't say you're thinking of writing something, or that you want to write a novel someday. If someone asks you what you do for a living, say you're a writer. Commit to it.

I actually think that's some good advice. I've just recently started thinking of myself as a writer above pretty much everything else.

So I think that when someone asks me what I do, I'll say that I'm a writer from now on.

Now, if I can just find a way to make some money at it, I'll be golden!

In The Land of Women

I watched In The Land of Women on the weekend, and I've been thinking about it ever since. This happened the first time I watched this movie too. I can't explain it. It just hits me on all levels. Life and death, mothers and daughters, love and hate, confusion and clarity. This movie portrays all of that perfectly.

And there are some really fucking good lines. I wouldn't have cursed there, but it warranted it. I want to share, because I feel like others can benefit.

Sometimes we all need a little Adam Brody to open our eyes...

"There's a big fucking world out there. It's messy, and it's chaotic, and it's never, never ever the thing you'd expect. It is okay to be scared, but you cannot allow your fears to turn you into an asshole. Not when it comes to the people that love you, the people that need you."
"I'm on the plane out here, and I open my computer and I start reading these emails that I sent her, like 30 or more maybe, over the course of our relationship. And not just short messages, I'm talking about long, involved love letters. Like, desperately trying to be romantic and poetic, whatever. And embarrassing as it is, it's also like, kind of the best stuff I've ever written. Because it's got this naive idealism thing going on where ours is going to be one of the greatest love stories ever told, and I'm writing it. So I'm sitting there and I'm reading these emails and there's some turbulence, and I start to have this massive panic attack, like nothing I've ever had, and I think it's happening because I can never imagine feeling that way about anybody else, ever again."

The Mistakes are the Beauty

It's hard to believe that any painting ever made is exactly how the artist intended it to look. You have to think there are incorrect brushstrokes or colours or textures. But are those intricacies not what makes them beautiful? The mistakes and quirks are what set the mood and tone of the piece.

So why can't we see that in ourselves?

And each other?

Why are our flaws seen as negatives? We don't put a positive light on our own mistakes. You learn. You change. You evolve. The beauty is in the changing, and the lessons, and the evolution. And all that comes out of a mistake. A 'wrong' choice. Saying words you wish you hadn't.

Since when is it not okay to make that mistake?

It never has been. We've put that on ourselves.

Something Different

Sometimes I think that I want to live a different life. Not be a different person, or live somewhere else, or have different friends. Just live differently. You can't - well, I can't - always live life the way I want to live it. It just doesn't work that way. I started thinking about it. Really thinking about it. I came up with a list of all the things I want to do; the way I want to live. The way I want to be, and the way I want to feel the things I feel.


I want to not work. I want to take time off and just write. Write a novel or random thoughts or children's stories. Just write because that is what I think I'm meant to do. It's come at me hard lately, that writing is what comes most natural to me. I'm upset that I didn't realize it sooner. But then again, I've said it before - sometimes things come to you at a certain time; when you need them to come to you.

I want to stop caring about things I have no business caring about. I can't elaborate on this, because there's really nothing more to say. It's just the truth.

I want other people to do the above, too.

Stop judging myself so harshly. There are enough people doing that for me already.

Sometimes I want to stop writing about true love and actually find it.

But I'm worried that it won't feel like I think it should feel.

I want music to always speak to me the way it has up until this point. I have no reason to think that it won't, but it's a paranoia I have. What if music regresses to the point where no one connects anymore? It's a chilling thought.

There are songs I think of as mine. I do not share them with anyone. I want them to stay that way. Sometimes when people ask my favourite song, I lie. That's mine, and I don't want to share it.

I want to stop thinking that I've already met the love of my life and let him slip away. Because really? The love of your life doesn't slip away. It's a contradiction in terms.

I want to travel. To stop just saying I want to do it, and actually do it. Stop making excuses and go someplace I've always wanted to go. Ireland, Tuscany, Prague, Morocco, Bordeaux...


This has become more of a life list than I intended. But maybe that's what it really was all along.

Now, what do you want?

Something About Love

Lately I've been wondering if my idea of love is completely skewed.

Are my expectations of what it should feel like just far higher than the emotion itself? Am I being unrealistic?

I only ask because it seems that there are a lot of people throwing that word around in a very serious way, and it just seems so easy.

Am I the one making it hard?

I Actually do...

Know most of the years the albums in my collection were released. Not only that, but I remember the specific stores where I bought most of them, or the first time/place I listened, or who I was with or who influenced me to get the album.

Fun facts;

- I have a lot of albums from 1994. My brother and I have come to the conclusion (years ago after many drinks) that 1994 was the best year, musically speaking, in the 90's.
- I have every album released by several artists/bands. John Mayer, Jason Mraz, DMB (save for a few of their live ones), Ben Harper, Keith Urban, Brian McKnight, Usher, Kanye, Alicia Keys, Fall Out Boy, Marc Broussard, Dave Barnes, and more. Fun!
- I have more country albums than anything else, which actually surprised even me.
- There are albums that I desperately need to get, and I just made room for them. Some Hank Williams, Ani Difranco, a couple Patty Griffin, etc., etc. Is it weird that I pre-emptively add them to my collection before they're even purchased...?

I guess the point - if there is one - is that if you really take a good look at your collection (of anything...albums, books, clothes...I dunno...rocks) you can probably learn a lot about yourself. Maybe some new things, or maybe just reminders of things you may have lost sight of.

It's kind of fun.

Something Funny

I bought a new bookshelf yesterday and built it with my own bare hands. It now sits next to my fireplace and holds all my sheet music, journals, metronome, etc., etc.

I'm also thinking of reorganizing my entire CD collection. This'll take some thought. Do I go by genre, then alphabetically? If so, which genre should I put first? Should I go alphabetically by genre, then alphabetically by artist? Hmm. I'll think on it. Suggestions are welcome.

There's a big part of me that wants to try to do it autobiographically, a la High Fidelity, but that just seems insane. Awesome and insane.

OR, I could go chronologically, which would be amazing, but I'd have to know the year every album was released in order to find anything, and that could be a hassle...

Keep building bookshelves, kids.

Explanation

Alright, so a couple people have asked what the title of this blog means. I suppose after about two years, I should clear it up.

Living in Rhythm. You (should) know that I'm a musician. For as long as I can remember, I have heard things differently than a lot of people. I have a 'trained ear'. When I was a kid, my parents thought I had a hearing disability, so they took me to a specialist and had my hearing tested. Turns out, my hearing is SO good, that I can tune out anything I don't want to listen to. Which, at the time, was my parents, evidently (ha!).

Anyway, this skill was only developed further when I joined a 60-person concert band, and a jazz ensemble. You learn to listen for your queues. You listen to the intricacy. Doing score studies as part of my musical education certainly helped, as well.

Anyway, what this all lead to was my ability to notice a lot of things that some, maybe most, people miss.

For instance:

While watching movies, I often find myself listening to the score, watching the scenes as they relate to the music, and then I'll have to rewind because I've missed all the dialogue.

I have spent most of my life since I was 16 waiting for that perfect song that plays in time the the turn signal on my car. I never found that song on my first car. My '07 Sebring so far has one perfect match (not just - "that's so close!" - this is in perfect time). That song is Hey Now by Augustana. No one understands how rare it is to find this! Most turn signals are not on a fixed beat; it's an uneven rhythm. My car's is even. I smile every time this song comes on when I'm driving.

The last time I got my hair cut, my stylist was clipping in time with the Kylie Minogue song that was playing. I asked her; it wasn't on purpose.

The other day, my best friend 'danced' past my office (she does this often, which is getting funnier and funnier the further she gets into her pregnancy), and it happened to be exactly to the beat of the Nathan Angelo song I had playing through my headphones.

This also means that I can't listen to music and not chew my gum to the beat. I can't be listening to my iPod and not walk in time to the rhythm of whatever song is playing. And yes, my pace changes as the songs do.

So I hope that serves to explain the blog title a little bit. And I hope it doesn't make me sound like a crazy! Or a total nerd.

More to Love

I have loved (lovedlovedloved) Brian McKnight since I was 14 years old. I found a used copy of Anytime at a flea market, and I have no idea why I bought it, but it was $3.

The. Best. $3. I. Ever. Spent.

It began a love affair. Brian McKnight is an artist whose albums I own all of. Other kids were listening to Sugar Ray (ew) and I was belting out Anytime in my bedroom. Other kids were buying Nirvana albums, and I was singing Back At One for singing competitions.

Probably my all time favourite song of his is 6, 8, 12. Just a beautiful, brilliant, painful song that hits my heart every time I hear it.

And then, thanks to the vortex that is Youtube, I found a video of Brian and his two sons singing this song. Talk about being born with a gift. And yes, I'm talking about all of them. I mean, there's no doubt about Brian's talent. He's a musical genius, and I don't throw that around lightly.

But I've been sitting here, listening to this over and over again for the last 40 minutes, and I have goosebumps. There is nothing - nothing - better than smooth vocal harmonies...

Brian McKnight and his sons - 6, 8, 12 & The Rest of My Life

Hell Week

I have not written on here in a while, and I feel bad.

Fun Fact: It is my nephew, Isaac's, first birthday today! I got him books. Of course! He's a cute little chap, he hates pants (very strange, but hilarious since he's just a baby), his favourite stuffed animal is a monkey, and he falls asleep holding a book every night because he already loves them. I love him. He's my buddy. I don't get to see him often enough, since I live on one end of the country and he lives on the other.

Bit of a crazy week. Okay, a lot of a crazy week. Too much going on, in my head and in my life, and it's been hard to keep it all straight. It's also hard to keep my sanity sometimes. And not sleeping has just added to the stress of it all.

I have every intention of spending my weekend laying in the sun (trying to even out this bitch of a tan!), reading more Gossip Girl (it's becoming a problem), writing, listening to music, cooking...anything else I can do to soothe my mind and calm me down.

Maybe alcohol? Definitely alcohol. We call this 'drinking to deal'. It's healthy...

Coincidence? No.

A couple little musical moments I feel I need to share.

Tuesday morning as I was getting ready for work, I was listening to myTunes on random, just like I do every morning, and Aretha's version of Eleanor Rigby started playing. Hadn't listened to it in a while. Then I realized it had been even longer since I heard the original, and I thought to myself - when I get to work, I'm going to listen to that song.

When I got in my car, the local classic rock station was on (I very rarely listen to the radio). Eleanor Rigby started playing as I turned off my street.

It blew my mind. What are the odds, right?

Well, today I was checking album reviews, and saw that Rob Thomas' new album is being very well received. Then I started thinking about Yourself or Someone Like You - the Matchbox Twenty album that came out in '96 and I listened to for hours on end because it was so AMAZING. IS so amazing.

I iChatted my best friend and said - You know who's awesome? Matchbox Twenty. The two of us had a brief conversation about the band and the aforementioned album, and that was that.

Then another friend (Jo!) messaged me - Do you like Matchbox Twenty?

This was about a half hour after my original conversation about the same band.

Music haunts me. I absolutely love it.

Choices upon Choices

Jo and I are making lists of potential wedding songs. I am enough of a geek that I have mine in a playlist on myTunes so I don't forget options. Whatever. It's fine. Right....?

Jo's list is four songs. Mine is 39 (and counting).

Scheming Star - Bethany Joy Galeotti
You Have that Effect On Me - Brad Paisley
She's Everything - Brad Paisley
Flowers of May - Christian Cladeira
Magic - Colbie Caillat
Nothing Fancy - Dave Barnes
On a Night Like This - Dave Barnes
I Have and Always Will - Dave Barnes
My Girl - Dave Barnes (cover)
Until You - Dave Barnes (ballad version)
Stay With You - John Legend
Ordinary People - John Legend
The Hard Way - Keith Urban
Raining On Sunday - Keith Urban
Can't Take My Eye's Off You - Lady Antebellum
If Tonight Is My Last - Laura Izibor
Mmm... - Laura Izibor
The Beauty of Who You Are - Marc Broussard
French Café - Marc Broussard
Come in From The Cold - Marc Broussard
I Love You More Than You'll Ever Know - Marc Broussard (cover)
Heavenly Day - Patty Griffin
Up to the Mountain - Patty Griffin
Let it be Me - Ray Lamontagne
Shelter - Ray Lamontagne
Hold You In My Arms - Ray Lamontagne
Can I Stay - Ray Lamontagne
I'll Stay - RH Factor
Look At Us - Vince Gill (this was my grandparents' song)
I Still Believe in You - Vince Gill
Help Me Make it Through the Night - Willie Nelson
Use Somebody - Kings of Leon (Piano ballad arrangement...)
Keeps Getting Better - Josh Hoge
Come Back To Bed - John Mayer
Let It Go - Gavin DeGraw
Sweetest Berry - David Ryan Harris
Mine all Mine - Chuck Wicks
Like You'll Never See Me Again - Alicia Keys
The Thing About Love - Alicia Keys

I Have Been Lured to the Dark Side

So I just had to go to the nearby Indigo (basically Canada's equivalent to Barnes & Noble) to scope out some things for work. Went with my best friend/coworker.

We ended up making a list of Dr. Seuss books she wants for her unborn baby, laughing over the nostalgia of those very stories from our own childhoods.

Then I did something insane, given that I'm 25. I bought a Gossip Girl book. The first one. Why? People keep telling me they are awesome. I figured I'd give one a read and see what the big deal's about. I'll keep you posted......

I also bought a brand new notebook whose sole purpose will be to contain ideas for the novel I am getting closer and closer to writing.

I'll keep you posted on that, too.......

There Are No Words. But I'll Try.

I wasn't going to weigh in on this. It didn't feel right, considering everyone else in the web world is doing it.

But as I listen to the Bad album, I've changed my mind.

Never again will we have another artist as groundbreaking, culturally relevant, generation-changing as Michael Jackson. Never. No doubt. When someone asks you who has changed music the most, you will answer Elvis, John Lennon, and/or Michael Jackson. No one else even comes close.

MJ changed the world through his art. People should not forget that.

My best friend asked me this morning, "Why is no music like his music?" She meant that to mean - there are so many followers, so many people influenced by him, but no one is like him. No one.

My response? "Vision. Genius. Fearless. And because he's Michael Jackson."

The thing that hits me is, when you listen to his music, it can go from disco, to straight up R&B, to pop, to rock (Dirty Diana anyone?).

MJ did not see limitations. There were no boundaries.

There was just music.

Experiencing Brilliance

I am hard to impress. I am jaded and cynical, and I have very high standards.

Tonight, I was absolutely HUMBLED.

(Yes, that is all caps and bold and italicized. I would have underlined if I was able.)

I bought a ticket to go see Maxwell. I was excited. I have adored him for years, and his new album (07-07-09) is one of my most anticipated releases of this year. I watched a couple live vids on Youtube just to see what it'd be like, and I was even more thrilled to be going...Just had that feeling it was going to be really damn good.

And then something special happened.

The opening act.

Laura Izibor. If you don't know her, you absolutely should. It is not often that music will reduce me to tears. Really. It isn't. I know I've blogged about it in the past, saying that every once in a while, you find a song that just destroys you in the most amazing way. All her songs did that to me. I was crying. Two songs in to the freaking night and I had goosebumps on my arms and had to wipe my eye. I wasn't embarrassed about it. I have no problem showing my emotions and reacting to something so incredible.


If an angel came down to me / Asked what I would do differently / I would say nothing you see / I love someone truly
Is that not the most honest lyric? Just beautiful.

Then the hook is ;
If tonight is my last / I wanna spend it with you
Maxwell rocked the house, man. He got a little nasty (to the delight of every woman in the crowd) with things like laying down on the stage when singing ,"girl, get on top of me." And lyrics like, "get on the table, I'mma eat you up." And telling the guys that, "if you can't get no ass after my show..."

But musically speaking, absolutely amazing. He somehow manages to keep the things that people love about his recorded songs, but revamp them and rework them a little for the live show. It worked seamlessly. Highlights were Pretty Wings (of course; how much do I love that song?), Lifetime, and a couple new songs that I cannot wait to have recordings of. Most notably, Cold.

I actually said to my friend today when she asked me what I expected, "It's going to be awesome. And R&B bands are always tight as hell, too." This band did not make a liar of me. Incredible musicians, all independently talented. Together? Forget it. I had chills all night.

And the ticket to this show was only $25! Steal. I would have paid much, much more. Much more.

Can I Quote Myself?

Either way, I'm going to.

It makes you take a step back, put your hands on your hips, take a deep breath, and ask yourself what in the hell you're doing in the first place.
This is what I'm doing right now. Wondering if I should stop it all and focus attention elsewhere. Like the novel I want to write by 'don't have time' for. That's looking like a pretty good idea, actually.

Really trying to believe that whole 'criticism versus creation' thing. I write because I love to write.

But.......

9 to 5

Had a bad day today. Very, very bad. Didn't want to do anything after work, and of course, that's the day you always have plans you can't get out of, isn't it?

So my day sucked. But now I'm sitting in sweats, hair in a ridiculous ponytail, drinking amazing tea, listening to Dolly Parton, and writing.

Feels good. Simple things can change a mood.

And don't make fun of me for Dolly. When I was little, I wanted to be her. I loved her. I still do. She's fantastic.

Go back and listen to 9 to 5 or Potential New Boyfriend if you don't believe me.

Newness

What's more fun than a new idea? Something new to get your creativity going?

Not much.

You come up with a new idea and all you want to do is share it with everyone you know and let them in on the new love in your life, and you hope they like the idea as much as you do.

I have a new one I'm working on. I'm loving it. But it's turning me into a gin-swilling crazy. That may be an exaggeration. It's just easier to get into the headspace to write the story if I've had a drink. Bad news! Good thing it's only a one parter!

Want a teaser? You know you do...


He doesn't know why he never told her. He could say he never had the chance, but it would be a lie. He had chances. He had plenty.

He didn't take them.

It's easy, really.

I love you. I miss you. I never should have left. You never should have let me.

It's easy. They're just words with honest emotions attached to them, weighing them down so they don't get lost. Easy.

Except it's really, really not.

They were young, then they got a little older, and then that little cocoon that was high school broke apart and sent them on their own. He left, and she stayed, and the little dance they'd done for those last few months of high school came to an abrupt end. Someone cut the music, and they turned their backs on one another and walked away. Or he turned his back on her and walked away.

Or she turned her back and he was too cowardly to make her turn back around.

Whatever it was, whatever happened, he left, and she stayed.

That's the first little bit. What do you think? It's going to be a loooong one parter. I don't know when I'll be finished. We'll see!! I'm excited about it, though. Can't wait to complete it and share.

Starbs

Or Starbucks, to most. I call it Starbs. It's a thing between my brother and sister and I.

Having no internet at home, well, it sucks. "I know, I'll just check and see where there's a Dairy Queen!" .... "Oh. No, I won't." I wanted a brownie batter blizzard (seriously? how delicious to those things look!?) and couldn't get to one. It's probably for the best, but anyway...

I'm rambling.

Bottom line is, I do not have internet at my house. This has led to me traveling to every Starbucks within a 20 minute drive from my house to use my two hours of free internet (or four, since I have two Starbs cards...way to cheat the system!) a day.

I used to hate sitting in Starbucks and trying to work. Or trying to do anything. I was an in and out kind of girl. Order my tall americano, milk, sugar, cinnamon, and get the hell out.

It's surprisingly calm to just sit at one of those little tables and people watch while I write. I found my favourite Starbs (in a bookstore about 10 minutes from my house). It's quiet, and they play a good mix of music, and the staff is friendly. The guy working yesterday even gave me a grande instead of a tall. Awesome!

Starbucks is an interesting place. Interesting employees, and interesting patrons. Ever watched Starbucks employees clean up behind the counter? I have. It's neat. Ever watched someone try to force a tall lid onto a grande cup? Hilarious! Ever watched someone complain about their tea just tasting like water? Then the barista rolling her eyes when the customer walked away? Amazing.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that it served me well to get out of my apartment this weekend and write somewhere other than on my sofa. And write, I did. I probably spent 6 hours at Starbucks this weekend, typing away and smiling at cute boys when they looked my way. It happened. Whatever.

Now, if I can just come up with a new story idea, I'll head back to Starbucks to write it...

Tall decaf mocha, please, and I'll type 10,000 words while I sit with my flip flops on the floor and my legs crossed on the chair.

Defending Your Defenses

So, there are a few things I take very seriously. One of them is creation. I don't mean that in a Darwinistic way. I mean the task of creating something. Art, music...I dunno...building a bookshelf. I think that the determination and passion involved in creating something is probably one of the most admirable qualities in a person.

And then, after the creation comes the criticism. The thing is? Creating is the hard part. Starting with a mere idea and following it through to completion. That's the hard part. But when the criticism comes, that always feels like the hardest part of the process.

You open yourself and your art or music (or bookshelf...?) up to your audience, to the world, and you hold your breath and your hands shake as you wait for what they'll say back to you. And sometimes it's good. Most of the time it's good. And you smile. And you get a little feeling in your heart that feels a lot like love for the thing you've created. It's a part of you, and the positive feedback is something like nourishment and encouragement.

Then you hear something bad.

Someone doesn't understand and they say something that you want to refute. You want to explain it, and go 'No, no, no! That's not it. Here's why I did that!' The problem with that is, how do you do that without sounding pompous or arrogant? Without sounding like a child, stomping their foot after someone tells them 'no'. How do you do it without it feeling like you're just insulted and emotional? (Especially when usually, you are).

The fear of criticism, I believe, is one of the main reasons that a lot of people don't share their creations. It's terrible, and it's sad that it has to come down to that. Who is one person to tell you that what you've done isn't valid or worthy? But it happens, and it sucks. It hits that place in your heart, and it makes you question your talent. If makes you question whether or not you even have talent.

It makes you take a step back, put your hands on your hips, take a deep breath, and ask yourself what in the hell you're doing in the first place.

Am I going to stop creating art or music or bookshelves? No. Probably not. But it makes you think twice about sharing it, doesn't it?

Best Quote I've Heard in a While

Every so often, I'll hear someone - usually a musician - say something during an interview that absolutely floors me. Speaks to me, and explains how I feel in terms close to how I would explain the same thing. It's the same, but different, and it makes me happy and thrilled, and lets me think that I'm not the only person who thinks a certain way.

This one is just the most simple concept, but it's absolutely the most honest and the truest thing I've heard in ages.

"You need to live life to be inspired by music." - Maxwell

I can't tell you how much I love this.

JT to Deal

So, every summer since I've been a full time employee (this is my fourth. God, that makes me feel old) I have had what I affectionately call Hip Hop Fridays.

Fairly self-explanatory, but basically, on myTunes, I click the 'hip hop', 'r&b', and 'rap' genres, hit 'random', and let myTunes carry me through my Friday. A little Kanye, a little Aaliyah (Yes!), a little Estelle, etc., etc.

Today, however, has felt like a damn year. I went to Starbucks this morning, got back, and it was still only 10:00. I almost cried.

So after a while, even John Legend and The Roots weren't helping me.

I called in an old friend from back in the day. A boy who used to have a full head of blonde curls, geeky glasses, and bad clothes.

Justin Timberlake.

The thing about Justin is, he's fucking amazing. I'd try to be more eloquent, but let's be honest, the eff word totally needs to be thrown in there. It's the only thing that gets the point across.

Listening to Like I Love You and Senorita for the first time in a long time feels a lot like hearing it for the very first time, where you stop what you're doing (today, for me, that was admittedly very little) and you listen. I listened to all of the Justified album (twice) and was like - Oh, hell yes. This is what I need today!

And do yourself a favour, if you can, and listen to Losing My Way (off FutureSex/LoveSound) on headphones real loud. If you don't get chills when the choir comes in, there's something wrong with you.

And...If you (or hell, I) need a little help getting through Saturday and Sunday, too, this might do the trick...