It came out well — to say the least. That last part was unnecessary.
Anyways, it was an interesting process. I discovered a new stereotype: experimental musicians are even more awkward than “normal” musicians. Imagine that.
I interviewed a lot more people than were in the story, but maybe the extra bodies were unnecessary.
There is an interesting documentary about the Action Research movement, which I will put here (as well as a link to the story).
So, this has been quite a long hiatus. Part of the time I have been in Japan; part of it has been spent laying around being lazy.
I now write for “The Alligator” doing mostly music related stories. My last published story was a local album review on The Early Twenties. I hope to do more local albums reviews in the future.
I like listening to rap while writing stories. I imagine it looking funnier than it probably does. I make playlists based on what I think will go well with my keyboard tapping and then wonder how it effects my writing — if at all.
Lately, I have been working on a story about experimental music and an organization trying to gather experimental musicians in Gainesville. It has been a leisurely pursuit with a far off deadline.
I listened to a lot of Japanese music while out of the States. I find that most genres in Japan seem to be tainted by the corny earnestness of pop music. Permed and straightened hair, bland cliche beats catered to every type of song, voices that fluctuate at the exact right moment, etc. Just the way the culture views music seems different. In Japan, you can rent CDs like movies. I see the industry there as attention defect, with the market moving quickly and the devotion of the audience fleeting. It is amusing to see covers of American songs translated into Japanese.
I sang in a karaoke booth. I had watched my family before, but had never participated. “Here Comes the Sun” by the Beatles and some Talking Heads songs were among the selections. My uncle sang some hair metal band he remembered from his youth. My mother and him sang a pretty duet together. My little cousin sang his favorite theme songs from cartoons and children’s television shows. I drank melon soda out of a tiny cup and my youngest cousin attempted to stick his hand in it to grab ice. The microphone tended to exaggerate lows and highs, making my mother sound like Barry Manilowe at times and like Alvin the chipmunk at others. It had a lot of reverb on it to mask any bad voice, but to me that tended to make it worse. I was never a karaoke person, but I guess I can say I have done it now — in the true form before it was popularized, butchered and repackaged in the States.
Back in Gainesville: one bandmate has left and one has returned. I hope my band takes off in some respect. I just want to play shows again. I am thinking that this will happen in the fall, when everyone is conveniently here and less flighty.
And those are my musical shenanigans. Later, I will write about some new artists I have found along the way.
Posted by shawandmusic 
Posted by shawandmusic 