It’s a pleasure for any music fan to experience the evolution of an artist that they enjoy. I spent a large portion of my early teen years listening to (what I now know to be) essentially standard alternative-rock fare on Silverchair’s first three albums. But now, almost eight years later, they are still one of my favorite bands. The way they transformed their sound, on 2003's Diorama and last year’s Young Modern, into a phantasmagoria of sonically addictive, complexly arranged batch of beautifully textured psychedelic pop-rock tunes shattered any preconceived notions I may have been clinging to regarding what was possible or acceptable for the average rock band in this day and age.
Strangers in My House symbolizes a similarly pleasurable evolution for LIMERICK RECORDS artist Capitol Jay and I have my own uniquely personal perspective on their sincere accomplishment. Although Strangers in My House is their debut full-length album, I’m told the band has existed in some form or another for nearly ten years. A decade can amount to light-years in the world of indie-rock and change, whether it be positive or negative, is bound to happen to any band over that amount of time.
My trip begins just two brief years ago, on Earth Day, when my band happened to share a stage with Capitol Jay at an outdoor Ben Lee (who?) concert on the campus of Augsburg College. While I certainly enjoyed their set of what I remember as feel-good, country-tinged jam rock (due in large part to their excellently executed cover of the Gourds’ country version of Snoop Dogg’s Gin and Juice), they seemed destined, to me, to revel in the somewhat familiar territory of 12-bar blues and wicked solos that many talented local bands continue to serve their own unique version of.
So you can imagine that when I caught a pair of Capitol Jay gigs at the Nomad and 7th St. Entry last August, complete astonishment, chills, and goosebumps were not necessarily the first sensations I was expecting to encounter. The band had apparently undergone some line-up changes that had resulted in a radical refinement of their sound. They were now an epic indie-rock band on par with the likes of the Arcade Fire or Wilco. Their lush arrangements, intricate phrasing, attention-grabbing vocal harmonies, and wildly captivating lyrics all had me scratching my head in disbelief while simultaneously nodding it in acceptance. What sort of cosmic wave of inspiration and creativity had this band been riding?
Unbeknownst to me, by the time I got my hands on the Strangers in My House demos around the New Year (the point in which I officially joined the Limerick family), the band's vision quest was still in progress. In my opinion, the demos sounded like well-mixed (yet un-mastered), sonically embellished representations that were faithful to the performances I witnessed in August. I got attached to those demos. They were good and showed real potential. I assumed that it wouldn't be too long before the final details were added and the album would be released. While I noticed that two more musicians had joined the group and that a few of the arrangements had been tightened up during their highlight-of-the-evening performance at the Varsity Theater on Jan. 12, I couldn't imagine them turning their backs on those demos entirely and chalked up the changes to the familiar practice of artists having fun with their live show. Of course, those (pointless) expectations and assumptions would be proved wrong as winter faded without the release of a Capitol Jay album.
Turns out, I sat with the demos far too long. When I first heard the actual album two weeks ago, I found myself intensely comparing the two versions in my head; taking special notice when a particular vocal phrasing or overdub that I latched onto in the demo versions was missing from the album proper. "Sure the audio quality is vastly superior" I mused to myself, "and the addition of violin & keys has created new timbres that contribute to an overall more accessible, developed sound. I miss the nuances that made the demos so powerfully personal!"
Even more troubling to me at the time was the fact that some stellar songs like Misdirection and I Really Didn't Think So had been dropped in favor of the unfamiliar-to-me, two-part opus Older Now and also that O Sylvia had been transformed from a sing along acoustic ditty into a slow-moving, contemplative album closer. I was in the midst of my own petty internal indie-backlash mind-trip not unlike the mentality behind certain Eau Claire hipsters that claim to have been into Bon Iver "before he was popular".
Thankfully great albums, just like Barack Obama, only get stronger with time. Only after I soaked in all of Strangers and absorbed its own unique subtle nuances into my subconscious, did I truly appreciate the album's undeniable artistic merit, as well as Capitol Jay's seemingly intense vision and long journey, on its own terms.
I probably could dig deeper into my thoughts (much like the band obviously dug deep into their own collective will and creativity over the past two years) and give a detailed account of what my favorite guitar, vocal harmony, or string part is or I could try to read between the lines and offer my take on what I think some of the more provocative lyrics in both parts of Older Now or Deadest of the Kennedys are "tryin' to say", but I'll leave all that to the real critics.
Right now, I just feel honored to be a small part of such true professionalism and artistic accomplishment. No matter what critical or financial successes or failures lie ahead, the kind folks in Cap Jay can sleep easy knowing they literally put everything they had into the creation of this album and that is something no one can ever take away from them.
--Adam W.
"I am B!"
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Monday, April 7, 2008
How To Approach A Booking Agent
If you're an artist who's finding it tough to book shows for yourself, the problem might be as simple as the approach you take. Try the following steps and see if your luck changes.
1. Approach only the venues that specialize in your type of music. If you're a solo/acoustic artist, don't be surprised when the local rock clubs don't return your emails. Start with coffee shops and work your way up to bigger rooms. You'll have much better luck.
2. Email etiquette is important! Just because email is impersonal, doesn't mean that you're not making a first impression. If your entire message consists of: "hey, my band wants to play a show" - I guarantee that nobody is going to take the time to write you back. Find out the name of the person you're writing to; introduce yourself and then your band; include as much information as possible about what you sound like, where you've played before, and what other bands would fit well on a show with you. This way you're doing a lot of the agent's work for them, and you come off as more professional.
3. You need to have a website, even if it's just a MySpace page. Most agents today wont talk to artists on the phone, and they don't want you to send them a CD in the mail. They prefer to check out your website to get a quick idea of what you're all about. The page should include 3-4 of your BEST songs, some pictures, and a detailed description of the band. If you have some positive reviews of your music or live show, include those as well. You are selling yourself to the agent, so it's important to put your best foot forward.
4. Follow-up, but don't be a pest. Once you've sent an email to a booking agent, wait at least a week before following up. Agents get tons of emails just like yours everyday, and sometimes it takes them a while to respond. If they are interested, they will get back to you. Hounding them with follow-ups is only going to hurt your chances of a show.
5. Be gracious, no matter what happens! If an agent declines to book you, there is nothing you can do to turn that around. Thank them for their consideration, ask if there is anything you should work on, and then leave them alone. Try again after a few months have gone by. If they do give you a show, NEVER complain about the details, even if they put you on a Monday at 6PM. Do the best you can, promote as much as possible, and maybe next time they'll move you to a better night and time.
Certainly this is not an exhaustive list, but the main point that I hope you take away from these tips is that IF YOU ACT LIKE A PROFESSIONAL, YOU ARE A PROFESSIONAL. That will come through to everyone that you work with, and eventually it will open doors for you.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes
Do you want to hear the good news or bad news first?
Ok, we'll start with the bad.
It is my sad duty to inform you all that after many years, Ian Jackson has left Sonicate. This effectively ends the band that we've all come to know and love, though for the time being their music will remain available on the site. The rest of the group will stay together and continue creating music, but it will likely be very different than the sound Sonicate is known for. Keep your ears peeled for that.
On a brighter note, local electro-pop band ZibraZibra has joined the Limerick family. Some of their music will be appearing on the website soon, and they have a lot of big plans for the coming months. These guys are a lot of fun and we're thrilled to have them on board.
Ozzy
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Please hear me out...
Tonight I was fortunate enough to attend one of the finest rock and roll shows that i've ever seen. But I couldn't find anyone to go with me, even though they would have gotten in free on the headliner's guest list. In the weeks leading up to the concert, more than one person laughed at me when I excitedly told them what band I was going to see. I've seen the group four times before and even hung out with them on the tour bus and traded burned CD's of our favorite music. My friends just shrug when I tell them about it. Nobody cares. This is the life of a Hanson fan.
It was ten years ago that Hanson exploded into pop music with 'Mmmbop'. That was the height of their success. The song was number one in thirty countries at the same time. They did a worldwide tour of huge venues...and then vanished. Well, they didn't really vanish. They just went back to the studio to record another record like any band would. When that follow-up was released in 2000, nobody really noticed. Their label dropped them, and so the band formed their own record company and have been running their own career as independent artists ever since.
I guess you can't have a huge hit song that is the very definition of bubblegum pop and then expect the entire world to take you seriously when your next album is more mature and rock driven. That gives the general public way too much credit on their intelligence. It just doesn't work that way. Once society puts you into a box and labels it, you're supposed to stay there. Nobody understands that bands grow and change over time, especially one whose members were all under fifteen years old when their debut was recorded. It's ludicrous isn't it? How could anyone expect a twenty-six year old to still be making the same music he did when he was fifteen?
The Hanson that I saw tonight was an incredible rock band, pure and simple. They're just as sick of their past as everyone else is, and so they still play like they have something to prove - because unfortunately they do, even ten years into their career. They want to be taken seriously, and rightly so, they've worked hard for it. To not take them seriously now is to not have heard anything they've done since their first album. I'm not suggesting that everyone needs to like them. But to disregard and mock them without hearing how far they've come is to speak out of ignorance.
In the world of independent bands that I live in, everyone is struggling to 'make it' and be taken seriously as artists. These bands know what it's like to be harshly judged and have no one care about the music that they work so hard to create. Many of the members of these bands are the very people who mocked Hanson to my face and refused to believe that anything they create could be seen as art. It's a sad irony that I rarely take the time to point out.
Maybe if they'd seen the incredible show that I saw tonight, they'd understand.
--Ozzy
It was ten years ago that Hanson exploded into pop music with 'Mmmbop'. That was the height of their success. The song was number one in thirty countries at the same time. They did a worldwide tour of huge venues...and then vanished. Well, they didn't really vanish. They just went back to the studio to record another record like any band would. When that follow-up was released in 2000, nobody really noticed. Their label dropped them, and so the band formed their own record company and have been running their own career as independent artists ever since.
I guess you can't have a huge hit song that is the very definition of bubblegum pop and then expect the entire world to take you seriously when your next album is more mature and rock driven. That gives the general public way too much credit on their intelligence. It just doesn't work that way. Once society puts you into a box and labels it, you're supposed to stay there. Nobody understands that bands grow and change over time, especially one whose members were all under fifteen years old when their debut was recorded. It's ludicrous isn't it? How could anyone expect a twenty-six year old to still be making the same music he did when he was fifteen?
The Hanson that I saw tonight was an incredible rock band, pure and simple. They're just as sick of their past as everyone else is, and so they still play like they have something to prove - because unfortunately they do, even ten years into their career. They want to be taken seriously, and rightly so, they've worked hard for it. To not take them seriously now is to not have heard anything they've done since their first album. I'm not suggesting that everyone needs to like them. But to disregard and mock them without hearing how far they've come is to speak out of ignorance.
In the world of independent bands that I live in, everyone is struggling to 'make it' and be taken seriously as artists. These bands know what it's like to be harshly judged and have no one care about the music that they work so hard to create. Many of the members of these bands are the very people who mocked Hanson to my face and refused to believe that anything they create could be seen as art. It's a sad irony that I rarely take the time to point out.
Maybe if they'd seen the incredible show that I saw tonight, they'd understand.
--Ozzy
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
I was given strict instructions...
I need to write more. Tom Brokaw told me so. He was sitting in my living room last night, seven months, 1,800 miles, and a television screen away, and what he said, despite such distances, struck a chord. Perhaps blogging was not precisely what Mr. Brokaw had in mind when speaking to a roomful of aspiring journalists at the University of Southern California last March, but the blogosphere (located, as I understand it, right between the atmosphere and the Godosphere) does play a rapidly growing role in modern journalism, and I also see it as a pretty low-key way of getting myself to sit down and write more often. And since three or four people will actually read this, I can try to hold myself to some sort of standard while likely failing to do so.
----------------------------
Briefly, to explain why I’d even think of writing here in the first place: my name is Ian, and I play guitar and sing backing vocals in Sonicate and, as of a few months ago, Capitol Jay, as well.
----------------------------
Say what you will about Rolling Stone, but it still is a relevant magazine. As much as it has pained me to see Fall Out Boy, Panic! At The Disco, and, more recently, Kid Rock “gracing” its cover, the truth is, these are extremely popular, chart-topping acts, and giving them face time is the relevant thing for a pop-culture rag to do. And that’s important to remember-- Rolling Stone has been, is, and always will be a pop-culture magazine (yes, counter-culture can be pop). It’s no coincidence the likes of Britney Spears and Fall Out Boy (only after going platinum) get the cover story. Rolling Stone makes their money by reporting on what’s big in the music world at large, not by doing a feature on some indie band that could be next to break through (their non-cover feature on the Arcade Fire was bravely published after the success of Funeral, rave reviews for Neon Bible, and two years after they made the cover of Time magazine’s Canadian edition as “Canada’s most intriguing rock band”). They are relevant in the world of popular culture.
For me, though, what keeps Rolling Stone a relevant media is the attention and space devoted to national politics. I don’t give a shit about Kid Rock’s new album, but I do care an awful lot about the potential U.S. attack on Iran. I also care about being informed of the scam that is cost-plus contracting, pervasive throughout America’s rebuilding efforts in Iraq. Too many news media outlets ignore such stories, especially those with the support of corporate advertising and a large readership. It’s rarely more than a few pages an issue, but for a pop-culture rag, it ‘aint bad. While the majority of Rolling Stone’s music journalism is dictated by what the media and culture provide for at-large consumption, their political journalism steps around the bounds of contemporary mainstream political reporting, bringing home stories that, while often harder to swallow, speak greater volumes about the true state of the union. It is political relevancy and potency, under the guise of a pop-culture rag made relevant by its choice of popular topics.
Ian
----------------------------
Briefly, to explain why I’d even think of writing here in the first place: my name is Ian, and I play guitar and sing backing vocals in Sonicate and, as of a few months ago, Capitol Jay, as well.
----------------------------
Say what you will about Rolling Stone, but it still is a relevant magazine. As much as it has pained me to see Fall Out Boy, Panic! At The Disco, and, more recently, Kid Rock “gracing” its cover, the truth is, these are extremely popular, chart-topping acts, and giving them face time is the relevant thing for a pop-culture rag to do. And that’s important to remember-- Rolling Stone has been, is, and always will be a pop-culture magazine (yes, counter-culture can be pop). It’s no coincidence the likes of Britney Spears and Fall Out Boy (only after going platinum) get the cover story. Rolling Stone makes their money by reporting on what’s big in the music world at large, not by doing a feature on some indie band that could be next to break through (their non-cover feature on the Arcade Fire was bravely published after the success of Funeral, rave reviews for Neon Bible, and two years after they made the cover of Time magazine’s Canadian edition as “Canada’s most intriguing rock band”). They are relevant in the world of popular culture.
For me, though, what keeps Rolling Stone a relevant media is the attention and space devoted to national politics. I don’t give a shit about Kid Rock’s new album, but I do care an awful lot about the potential U.S. attack on Iran. I also care about being informed of the scam that is cost-plus contracting, pervasive throughout America’s rebuilding efforts in Iraq. Too many news media outlets ignore such stories, especially those with the support of corporate advertising and a large readership. It’s rarely more than a few pages an issue, but for a pop-culture rag, it ‘aint bad. While the majority of Rolling Stone’s music journalism is dictated by what the media and culture provide for at-large consumption, their political journalism steps around the bounds of contemporary mainstream political reporting, bringing home stories that, while often harder to swallow, speak greater volumes about the true state of the union. It is political relevancy and potency, under the guise of a pop-culture rag made relevant by its choice of popular topics.
Ian
Saturday, November 3, 2007
It's in the Air? And it's not Love!
It's funny, in a way, how life works; I should not be here. The old saying goes 'children (or women, or those who are inferior to those in a place of power that presents itself as a placebo) should be seen and not heard', but this is false, for I should be neither heard nor seen.
I should not be here, but I am, and it's funny because not only am I not a member of any of the three Limerick Records bands, but I am also being forced to blog against my will.
C'est la vive.
My name is Paige, and sometimes I like to pretend I'm a lion tamer; on a more frequent basis, I sell the merchandise for Limerick Records. As we speak, I am being torn away from my NaNoWriMo, and I'm frivolously using words here instead of on that. That does not, however, mean I will be any less eloquent (or egotistical).
I'm here to talk about change.
Autumn is on my face and lips and breath and in my hair and words; summer is in my soul. Only a few weeks (days? months? lifetimes?) it was summer, when the world was warm and children blissfully wished that week after week it would never ever leave them, but in their hearts they knew that it was inevitable. Fall is just as much a part of our lives as blinking is, as breathing is, and laughing is, as being is, and 'fall' in this sentence is a synonym for 'change'
Change is a constant reminder that nothing is constant.
We all change, in our bodies and in our heads. As we age, we grow, and as we grow, we mature. Our looks change, our vocabularies change, our occupations change, our emotions change. Our philosophies change.
When I was young(er), I was nowhere near the person that I am today. The person that I am today is nowhere near the person that I will be ten years from now, or even ten hours from now. A person learns to accept change, be it the deterioration of the body or the strengthening of a relationship or the passing from long, lovely summer into crisp fall into the stillness that winter brings.
Also, and the main reason that I bring up change, the music industry changes. And when I say 'the music industry', I mean 'your music industry', because that's really what it's all about. If all this time and effort and love are not being poured into something tangible for you, why bother? Why bother adapting to what you want and you need and you find solace in?
Only a short while after Limerick Records announced its plans to be completely digital and completely cost optional, Radiohead proceeded to do the same with its latest LP 'In Rainbows'; if this ebb and flow of listening to what the people want isn't change, I don't know what is.
In conclusion, I wish that I could have just used all 500 of these past words on my novel, and it's almost winter. Damn.
<3 Paige
I should not be here, but I am, and it's funny because not only am I not a member of any of the three Limerick Records bands, but I am also being forced to blog against my will.
C'est la vive.
My name is Paige, and sometimes I like to pretend I'm a lion tamer; on a more frequent basis, I sell the merchandise for Limerick Records. As we speak, I am being torn away from my NaNoWriMo, and I'm frivolously using words here instead of on that. That does not, however, mean I will be any less eloquent (or egotistical).
I'm here to talk about change.
Autumn is on my face and lips and breath and in my hair and words; summer is in my soul. Only a few weeks (days? months? lifetimes?) it was summer, when the world was warm and children blissfully wished that week after week it would never ever leave them, but in their hearts they knew that it was inevitable. Fall is just as much a part of our lives as blinking is, as breathing is, and laughing is, as being is, and 'fall' in this sentence is a synonym for 'change'
Change is a constant reminder that nothing is constant.
We all change, in our bodies and in our heads. As we age, we grow, and as we grow, we mature. Our looks change, our vocabularies change, our occupations change, our emotions change. Our philosophies change.
When I was young(er), I was nowhere near the person that I am today. The person that I am today is nowhere near the person that I will be ten years from now, or even ten hours from now. A person learns to accept change, be it the deterioration of the body or the strengthening of a relationship or the passing from long, lovely summer into crisp fall into the stillness that winter brings.
Also, and the main reason that I bring up change, the music industry changes. And when I say 'the music industry', I mean 'your music industry', because that's really what it's all about. If all this time and effort and love are not being poured into something tangible for you, why bother? Why bother adapting to what you want and you need and you find solace in?
Only a short while after Limerick Records announced its plans to be completely digital and completely cost optional, Radiohead proceeded to do the same with its latest LP 'In Rainbows'; if this ebb and flow of listening to what the people want isn't change, I don't know what is.
In conclusion, I wish that I could have just used all 500 of these past words on my novel, and it's almost winter. Damn.
<3 Paige
Friday, November 2, 2007
The Engine Sputters Ghosts
and the radio is on
and the radioman is speaking
and the radioman says
women were a curse
so men built Paramount
studios
and men built Columbia
studios
and men built
Los Angeles
it is 5 am
and you are listening
to Los Angeles
-Soul Coughing
So, it's late in the evening and I've been thinking about folk superstition while holding a guitar and failing spectacularly at finishing a song. Oh boy, multi-tasking. By the way my name is Willie and I'm the bassist/lead vocalist of Sonicate, and yes, this will be a depressing late night blog post. Boy howdy.
Anyway. While trying to complete the aforementioned song I started kicking around the idea of ghosts, and how western culture has taken a really interesting concept and flattened it into an easily dismissed caricature of its former self. The abstract concept of a ghost, namely an echo or piece of a person lingering on after their departure, contains some intriguing thoughts about the soul and the self. After all, echoes of every person abound throughout the world, not just sound but reflected light and action. Each one of us leaves a trail of shed skin and heat. What an echo really is, is just pieces of the past bouncing around in the present. Everyone leaves a trail of pieces, of ghosts lingering after themselves no matter where they go. Everything you do takes a little bit out of you. Some of you gets left behind. Your ghost. And each trail leads back to a moment in time when you struck the placid surface of life around you and caused a ripple outward. But if waves of heat can radiate away from their source, what about thought, intent? Indeed, thoughts come not in segments but in waves, each receding as the next crashes upon the shore. And thus at each moment in time a wave of intention emanates from each person forward and outward in their lives.
Ghosts linger. They hold on. It makes sense. After all, your ghost is you, in the past, being dragged into the present. You can understand why a ghost might be upset, stretched across moments until it rips apart and dissolves into aether. Some ghosts stay longer then others, thoughts that keep crashing in upon you, shed pieces clinging to you, echoes that persist. Some ghosts leave in a hurry. Some get trapped. Every time someone takes a picture of you your ghost is sucked into the camera, crushed flat onto a tiny piece of film, static and smiling. Every time you write your name your ghost hovers around the words, a remnant of a moment of you lingering by its own epitaph. There are people whose names are advertisements for baked goods or clothing, whose pictures exist to sell liquor and cell phones. People who live by being seen or heard. Pieces of these people will litter shelves and screens and minds long after they themselves pass on. These are people who have saddled and harnessed their ghosts, and make them work to pay rent. There are also people who think that a camera can steal a person's soul, and sometimes I believe them.
There are people who believe you can sell your soul, or give it away or lose it. I think you can only lose yourself. Because what is a soul after all, but you? What is your ghost? It's you. In different times and places, you. Because any piece of you is you. An echo, a reflection, a picture, it all points to one place. The only thing you can leave behind is yourself.
-Willie
and the radioman is speaking
and the radioman says
women were a curse
so men built Paramount
studios
and men built Columbia
studios
and men built
Los Angeles
it is 5 am
and you are listening
to Los Angeles
-Soul Coughing
So, it's late in the evening and I've been thinking about folk superstition while holding a guitar and failing spectacularly at finishing a song. Oh boy, multi-tasking. By the way my name is Willie and I'm the bassist/lead vocalist of Sonicate, and yes, this will be a depressing late night blog post. Boy howdy.
Anyway. While trying to complete the aforementioned song I started kicking around the idea of ghosts, and how western culture has taken a really interesting concept and flattened it into an easily dismissed caricature of its former self. The abstract concept of a ghost, namely an echo or piece of a person lingering on after their departure, contains some intriguing thoughts about the soul and the self. After all, echoes of every person abound throughout the world, not just sound but reflected light and action. Each one of us leaves a trail of shed skin and heat. What an echo really is, is just pieces of the past bouncing around in the present. Everyone leaves a trail of pieces, of ghosts lingering after themselves no matter where they go. Everything you do takes a little bit out of you. Some of you gets left behind. Your ghost. And each trail leads back to a moment in time when you struck the placid surface of life around you and caused a ripple outward. But if waves of heat can radiate away from their source, what about thought, intent? Indeed, thoughts come not in segments but in waves, each receding as the next crashes upon the shore. And thus at each moment in time a wave of intention emanates from each person forward and outward in their lives.
Ghosts linger. They hold on. It makes sense. After all, your ghost is you, in the past, being dragged into the present. You can understand why a ghost might be upset, stretched across moments until it rips apart and dissolves into aether. Some ghosts stay longer then others, thoughts that keep crashing in upon you, shed pieces clinging to you, echoes that persist. Some ghosts leave in a hurry. Some get trapped. Every time someone takes a picture of you your ghost is sucked into the camera, crushed flat onto a tiny piece of film, static and smiling. Every time you write your name your ghost hovers around the words, a remnant of a moment of you lingering by its own epitaph. There are people whose names are advertisements for baked goods or clothing, whose pictures exist to sell liquor and cell phones. People who live by being seen or heard. Pieces of these people will litter shelves and screens and minds long after they themselves pass on. These are people who have saddled and harnessed their ghosts, and make them work to pay rent. There are also people who think that a camera can steal a person's soul, and sometimes I believe them.
There are people who believe you can sell your soul, or give it away or lose it. I think you can only lose yourself. Because what is a soul after all, but you? What is your ghost? It's you. In different times and places, you. Because any piece of you is you. An echo, a reflection, a picture, it all points to one place. The only thing you can leave behind is yourself.
-Willie
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