Truman, a favorite of most single BYU females, was quite possibly the most educational performance that I've ever hated. They have impressive vocal skills, and their performance is very professional. However, this is where the title of this post comes from, they seemed to play music just for appearance's sake. Do they actually make the kind of music that they, themselves, enjoy? I kind of doubt it. Every turnaround was simple, every chord progression came from a catalog, every keyboard solo kept the yawns coming. The single most interesting number they did was their cover of the Willy Wonka song - "Pure Imagination"... When they performed that, I thought "Now this is COOL." Yet coolness eludes them, ironically, because everything they do just seems so purposefully cool. I just imagine them writing songs and saying to each other, "ok, that will work." I swear that, despite all the approval of that crowd, an audience of guys or blind girls would have found their performance to be a complete bore. What am I getting at?
I'm an advocate for music with soul. I'm giving a shout-out for Ryan Innes, the artist of the night. I was moved by his performance.
It's how I mourn, rejoice, cope, laugh, love. It's my primary emotional outlet. That being said, it's not just therapy. I love the craft of writing amazing and clever, but concise and emotive lyrics. I love the concept of creating something that never existed before. I love always having my antennas up for new ideas, lines, phrases. My goal is to make people feel something
That's why he makes music? AWESOME. You can listen to Ryan's EP by following the link on the article quoted above... but his live performance is what I'm recommending. The cd is a nice souvenir that I can pop in to remind myself of the good times I had, but the recording alone doesn't give you what I witnessed at the show. After being so thoroughly dissatisfied by the performance of Truman, I was seeking for signs of life on stage.
First sign of life? The TONE.
When I go to a show, I listen to the music. It makes me sad that there are so many "professional" musicians who don't give a damn about tone! I'm talking about guitarists who soundcheck just for the sake of making sure it's loud enough. Or drummers who's set-up is sparkly and new but don't know how to tune a drum head. The keyboard, the guitar, the bass, and even the drums had an amazingly colorful blend of tones. I was actually extremely impressed by the drummer. That kit just rang and resonated with such crispness and texture. All these just accentuated the thick bluesy vocal tone of their frontman, Ryan. In addition, there is a variety of tones, each appropriate for the song. Some grunt in some songs, where the guitarist goes a for a bit of crunch, the drummer hits the cymbals heavily, and the singer growls a bit. Then there are the tender songs, were the guitarist uses swells and delays for ambiance, the drummer plays with brushes or felt-heads instead of regular sticks, and the singer irons the rasp out of every note.Second sign of life? The movement.
I'm also reminded of another recent performance by Gypsy Cab at the same venue. That lead guitarist/vocalist moved just like Jimi Hendrix... it also doesn't hurt that he sounded just like him. Stage presence is sort of secondary. I have seen shows where the singer was confident and the band had rock-ability. However, the body language of a soulful jazz-blues musician is emotive. It's not emotive in the same way that an emo indie-folk singer-songwriter is emotive. In blues music, emotive body language is an indication of somebody feeling the music - the tone, the dynamics, the pauses, the slow beats. The artist sways, closes his eyes, and in the case of Ryan, he contorts his free hand (the one not holding the mic) almost as if he has minor cerebral palsy. Strange description, I admit. The guitarist closes his eyes and bobs his head as he gently strums a chord. The drummer moves with the beat - almost dances in his chair - and he smiles and nods at the other players when they face his direction. When I picked up on all these signs of life, I leaned over to my friend and band-mate and said (pointing to each player), "He likes the music." Basically, they were each feelin' it.I liked what I heard, too. Last sign of life? Cleverness.
When I hear a lyric that I didn't expect, or a guitar solo melts my face, or the drummer throws in a funky breakdown that the rest of the band miraculously follows, my reaction is usually - I laugh. That's right, I hold my hand up to my mouth and I cackle, "Oh ho ho, what?" And then I look around to see if anyone else looks impressed. This usually happens on a first listen, but CAN happen every night if the artist plays with passion and pushes themselves in new directions. You could tell Ryan had practiced his songs and performed them with expert precision. However, with a savvy spark of improvisation, each note didn't have the exact backing of the recording. * THIS is why I say that his live performance is better than the recording. You get to hear his newest twist on this or that turnaround.
So now you can easily see what kind of musician I strive to be. I'm telling you, that juxtaposition was eye-opening. I REALLY enjoy good music, because seeing someone cover ^these^ three signs of life at one time is just really fun.
Tomorrow is a pretty big performance for me, and I have been reflecting on Ryan Innes's performance for a week now. Up till this point, the Blues Jam at Boothe Bro's Theater has just been a monthly thrashing of nerves, for which I am usually very appreciative. At least I've experienced some stage time. Yet time allows for two or three songs per act, and I was getting bored with the act that we had going for a while. Guitar soloing is a blast, but I volunteered to sing in two recent jams just for the extra challenge. My goals for tomorrow night. (1) stay poised, never appear flustered. (2) enjoy myself. (3) impress the hell out of some girls in the audience - I have my hopes ... and (4) hit the three big points I listed - tone, movement, and cleverness - dial in the sounds I want, close my eyes and tilt my head to the side, and maybe take some chances singing in ways I've never attempted before.
No matter what. It's not just for appearance's sake - meaning it's not just a presentation to the audience. While I play, I try to impress my band mates, plus my own ears. I think that's why I enjoy band practice so much.
