I wanted to write a quick note in mourning of Richard Wright, the keyboardist for Pink Floyd who died today. While it’s hard to pick favorite bands, Pink Floyd will forever be somewhere in my personal top 10. Their music still stands out as a rare example of something that goes against the grain but still achieves massive global success. They’re an inspiration to anyone who hopes to make music based on the merits of music alone and would like to think said music could still connect with a large audience. There are few, if any, bands that I can think of that can even begin to be compared to Pink Floyd.

Though largely unsung, Wright was a key (and founding) member of the band. His keyboard parts were integral in filling out their signature sound and were often the bed over which David Gilmour would play his solos. Also, he sang on more songs than I think many people realize, as I myself mistakenly associated some vocals to Gilmour when they were actually Wright.

I guess all I am saying is that while there will no doubt be a whole lot of hoopla when Gilmour or Roger Waters sadly leave us, Wright probably won’t quite get the attention he deserves (maybe I’m wrong). This is a genuinely sad day for rock musicians everywhere. Thanks, Richard, for the music you gave me!

I finally got to see one of my favorite bands, Supergrass, play live this past Saturday. They don’t have a huge fan base in America, and as far as I can tell they don’t come out here too often to play. I’ve been wanting to see them for a while and this was one of my first opportunities.

Many people who have actually heard Supergrass have only heard the song “Alright” from the Clueless soundtrack way back when and said, “oh they’re that band that plays bratty britpop-punky music.” It’s not an entirely untrue statement, by any means. Their first album, I Should Coco (which included “Alright”), was chock full of this kind of music. But at the same time, the album forays into much more mellow territory in the second half, and even the teen-punk moments hint at a more complex undertone. I first heard the album as a pre-teen when my older brother bought; I thought it was catchy.

But when I was 17 and living in Scotland for a semester of my junior year of high school, I heard a side of Supergrass that I hadn’t before when the song “Moving” was played in a music store I was browsing. I bought the album and immersed myself in its unique chord progressions and dark vocal harmonies. Later I ended up rediscovering the catchiness of their debut, and I became completely convinced when I listened to Road to Rouen, a collection of thoughtful, melodic, nuanced music that I didn’t even realize the band was capable of.

Road to Rouen turned me from a casual fan into a big fan. I finally realized that the musical complexity I felt I had been hearing in their earlier work was confirmed and this was a genuinely great band who really knew how to write good songs. Their live show didn’t make me want to back away from that stance.

The mix of the concert could have been a little better (when is it really perfect, anyway?), and I would have liked to hear more bass and drums. But Supergrass had great energy, played a great set, and rocked the shit out of the show. I could have used a few more songs, but they had another shindig going down at the Avalon afterwards that night, so the band clearly didn’t have much of a choice. Plus, when you see a band with six albums of material, you’re bound to be left wanting to hear a few extra songs.

It’s funny how seeing a band live can have them make total sense to you, answering questions you’ve had in your head about how they tick that you can only guess the answers to by listening to recordings. I can say I’d see Supergrass any chance I get from here on out. They are a true rock ‘n’ roll band.

There are very few people I know who wouldn’t agree that money is a pain in the ass. Those who disagree probably have a lot of it. Actually, I think wealthy people are probably equally bothered by it. Honestly, I’ve never cared that much about money, otherwise I’d have majored in finance and jumped straight into Wall Street. Among the many risks of being a musician is a huge financial one, but I don’t care because all I want to do is make music, and if I’m not doing that I won’t be happy. And that’s the point, isn’t it? Every day my heart aches a little more when I’m not able to devote myself 100% to what I love to do. But no matter how little I care about money, I still need (and want) it, and it sure would be nice to have a lot of it. Because maybe money can’t buy happiness, but there is one thing it can buy: Freedom. Sweet, sugary freedom.

The music-money relationship is a tricky one. For a very large portion of people out there that are earning money from a day job, it’s all about business. To make money from music, you inevitably have to turn it into a business, and turn your band and your CD into the product you’re selling. Someone once told me, “make it fun, don’t make it work.” Well, the point of trying to make music my “work” is because it’s always fun. Otherwise I wouldn’t be doing it. Don’t we all want a fun job? That’s all I’m trying to get for myself. When I make it work, it’s the most fun work I’ve ever done. It makes me want to work.

And so we come to the ubiquitous phrase: selling out. It’s one of the most over-used phrases in the music business, particularly by fans. The problem is that there is no actual definition of selling out, because it’s totally different from everyone’s perspective. For a lot of people, selling out has simply become a synonym for success. As soon as a band makes it big, they’ve sold out. As soon as they sign to a major label or appear on MTV, they’ve sold out. But accepting money for your work isn’t selling out, even if it’s a big fat sum of money. The artists who have become rich are well off because they have a ton of fans who shell out cash to buy their music, a T-shirt, a concert ticket, etc.

Selling out to me involves sacrificing your music’s integrity for money. Too often, signing with a major label means you give up control over your own music and have to squeeze into a cookie cutter artistically. Any time you let a so-called authority change the way you go about your art for a few extra bucks, you’ve blown it. If you’re lucky enough that your music already fits the mold of what’s popular, then you’re good to go. I’d love to sign a major label contract today, but only if it meant that I wasn’t a slave to the trends. Fat chance, really. But there will always be some amount of compromise… It all comes down to how much is too much, and what you feel comfortable with.

Basically, I’d love to be making music from strumming my guitar, fiddling with ProTools, and being creative. I don’t particularly care about much more than that. I’d love to be in a successful touring band, or play guitar for recording sessions. It would be fun to write music for films. I’d even enjoy recording background music for SportsCenter clips or TV commercials. But if you ever actually see me appear in a goddamn 1-800-COLLECT commercial (Lit, I’m looking in your direction), remind me to slap myself in the face. With a brick.

One thing’s for sure: selling out is always associated with success. Sometimes, I think, this is a result of jealousy. Think about it: you’d be way more likely to think that Coldplay sold out if they said they like Miller Light than if your local bar band got paid for saying the same thing. That reminds me, I really, really enjoy Smithwick’s Ale, and I could surrrre go for one right now. No? OK, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you: someday you’re probably gonna tell me I sold out. But I probably won’t agree with you. And you know what? I’ll just think you sold out for working your 9 to 5 instead of pursuing your dream. So we’re even.

And the only prescription is some new music that I play on. In this case, my good friend Genevieve has been working hard on her first album for a long time now, and it’s finally finished and ready for an eager public to soak it in. She’s a pop/folk singer-songwriter, and this record is chock full of well-crafted tunes, organic sounding production and interesting arrangements (plus lots of great vocals and harmonies by Genevieve, who has an uncommonly good singing voice). I play most of the acoustic guitars on the CD, plus I rock some electric and even mandolin on one track. A few fellow Shaimus fellas (Shaimites?) were heavily involved in the production, so it’s got that going for it, too.

So go ahead and take a listen… You can hear four full songs in all their glory on her Myspace profile, or hear long samples of every song (and buy the damn thing) at CD Baby. This is music for a rainy day. Or a sunny day. Or for night time. Maybe even dusk or dawn. But only dawn if you’ve been up all night. Otherwise, just stay in bed.

Don’t get any
Big ideas
They’re not gonna happen

-Radiohead

In my apartment tonight we tackled the DVR and watched last night’s episode of House. Hilarious as always. The patient was a soap opera star with some sort of allergy, or brain tumor, or bacterial infection, or… Hell, they go through so many red herring diagnoses I can never keep track. It doesn’t matter, anyway. What was interesting, though, was that the actor on the show (yes, the actor being played by an actor, how meta) was talking about how he hated his job, that he wanted to be in something important, something influential, a show or film that meant something. Any time one of the doctors told him to just quit his soap opera gig, he said “it’s not that easy.” When pressed for more explanation, he had none.

They never really went into any more detail, but it’s an interesting topic: where does one draw the line with how far they can push their art? Or really, where does one begin to compromise with the line someone else has drawn for their art? Wait, that didn’t really sound right and I don’t think it made sense. Are artists here to entertain or innovate? Either/or, or both? If you’re hoping to push the envelope, but just end up in a comfortable gray area that doesn’t revolutionize but does entertain, when should you resign yourself to be satisfied with what you’ve accomplished? Or should you at all?

When House was over, we watched a live Radiohead performance on the Music HD channel. They performed mostly songs from In Rainbows. They are one of the tightest bands I’ve had the pleasure of seeing live, and it seems like they’re just getting better sometimes. The difference in musical contribution to the world between them and, say, a band like Good Charlotte or Nickelback, is like night and day. But the latter two bands entertain large audiences. Some might call it mindless, still others call it greatness. When it comes down to it, they’re both equally valid. But if the members of Nickelback are in the business to innovate, should they accept their place in the music world (which, for the record, is in a spot completely free of innovation), or should they keep pushing to be something they are most likely never going to be?

These are the kinds of questions someone like me who is still waiting to break into the music scene might ask themselves. I would love to be an innovative, revolutionary musician, but to be totally honest I have no idea if I’m even capable of earning such a label. Do the revolutionary musicians even think they’re revolutionary? Maybe they totally do. Maybe Pink Floyd knew they were making history with each successive album. But like the soap opera star said, it really isn’t quite so simple as quitting what you’re doing and jumping right into something influential. When it comes down to it, all I can do is be completely sure with myself that I am making the best possible music I can make. (This could apply beyond music of course… Just making sure I’m doing the best job I possibly can with anything that is meaningful to me in my life.) What more could I even ask out of myself? And that is being said by someone who is harder on himself than any music critic or fan could ever be. I suppose that when all is said and done, it’s not up to me to decide if my music is revolutionary or not. Hell, it’s barely even up to you, either.

Last Thursday I had the privilege of seeing Ween live for the second time. I couldn’t help but marvel at how well these guys have done for themselves as we drove past the venue looking at the line that was backed up well around the block. Considering that they started as just a couple guys huffing whatever they could find lying around the house and recording delightfully demented songs on a 4-track, they have come a long, long way.

If you’ve never heard Ween, there is really an art to getting into them. They are not a band that you can force on anyone unless you want them to hate Ween and hate you for making them listen. No, they are an acquired taste that one must discover for themself. They’re new album, La Cucaracha, is very good and full of dead-on parodies. Although maybe the best album to introduce the unsuspecting listener to Ween would be Quebec. Despite it’s overall mellowness, it’s a good way to ease yourself into their world. There are enough weird moments and time-distorted vocals to give you an idea of what they’re about, but they are mixed in with a lot of their most accessible music as well.

The best thing to do when first listening to Ween is laugh. They have some genuinely messed up songs, but when it comes down to it, they’re hilarious. Half of their music is part-tribute and part-send up, with them masterfully aping some of your favorite artists and genres. The other half is just good, clean fun. Well, definitely not often clean, but fun for sure. Once you’ve stopped laughing, however, you realize something: these are just some damn good songs. And that’s when you realize their genius. They take cliches and idiosyncrasies in every musical style and simultaneously lampoon and build upon them. And for all their wackiness, you realize that while they don’t take themselves seriously, they still take music itself seriously and obviously love every minute of it.

Watching them onstage is a unique spectacle, seeing them translate their songs seamlessly into a straightforward live band setting and rock your balls off while doing it. Their setlists are career-spanning, diverse and satisfying, although I could have done without the 15-minute drum solo at the end. They really overdo it with the fog machine, but it would appear they do that partially to cover up the billowing “ambiance” of the crowd. I seriously was no more than 10 feet into the venue before I noticed the entire lobby was already in a haze. Although a Ween crowd is one of the most fun and entertaining concert crowds you could ever want to be a part of.

What it really comes down to with these guys is that they are doing exactly what they want to do with music, and making a fine living off of it. And they make me happy.

As many people already know, the new Radiohead album, In Rainbows, was released exclusively as a download this past week with the consumer’s ability to pay whatever they want for it (or pay nothing at all). Radiohead is one of my favorite bands, so of course I jumped on the opportunity to hear some new material, and I wasn’t disappointed at all. The album is great. Thom sounds so confident in his voice, it is only getting better and better. The songs are very interesting in their structure, mainly very linear as opposed to sectional, something that we have come to expect from Radiohead but is still generally unorthodox. Some of my early favorites include “Nude” (which is a song they’ve had lying around for a while now) and “Reckoner.” The opening track, “15 Step,” once again proves Radiohead’s mastery of making 5/4 time sound natural.

The controversial element of the album is, of course, the price. Allowing the fan to choose what they pay is certainly a revolutionary concept, yet coming from Radiohead is not particularly surprising to me. Not only do they have the resources and wealth to be able to do it, experimentation is now their calling card musically so it only seemed natural for it to carry over into other elements of their career after they fulfilled their major label contract.

I have paid a lot of money to see Radiohead live three times. I legitimately own every full-length CD they’ve released (plus about three CD-Rs of unreleased and rare stuff). I am a true fan of the band who has supported them all the way and will continue to support them. And you know how much I paid for the new album? Nothing. And despite what some people seem to think, I don’t feel the least bit bad about it.

Seriously, I don’t see any problem with it, yet I got into a discussion or two with people who couldn’t believe I wouldn’t pay a dime for the album. Are you kidding me? This is a band that obviously doesn’t need any money (otherwise, logically, they would make us pay a minimum). There are also plenty of people who are willingly paying money for this download (including one person I saw who was paying $100). That’s great, I love that some people are doing that and the band will still make a ton of cash from this release. But if someone offers me something for free, I’m not going to feel the least bit bad about taking it for free. If you met the band backstage and they said, “hey, here’s our new CD,” would you say “oh cool, hey, let me at least give you five bucks for it.” No. Of course not. You’re going to take it for free with a smile on your face. And that’s what I’m doing. If they want me to pay at least $4, they can make me pay $4. It’s well within their power and I’d happy do it. But they said I could have it for free. So now I have it for free.

A couple more points in this matter: first of all, the normal CD will be released next year and I’ll probably buy it. If anything it was a genius move letting me hear the album first so I know I like it. I also hate paying for digital downloads. I like having art and credits, plus I am not a fan the degradation of quality when buying an mp3 from iTunes or something. It is fine for some people (tons of people have downloaded Shaimus from iTunes and I love that), but it drives me crazy. Luckily the files from Radiohead’s website were higher quality, but still not CD quality. Finally, when they next come to town for a show, I will be there. They make so much money from touring, if that’s not supporting them I don’t know what is.

In Rainbows is a very cool experiment and Radiohead is making waves in the music industry as well as making an interesting point. If you were considering getting the new album, I say definitely download it. And pay whatever the hell makes you happy.