This Past Weekend Was a Good One

Waking up Sunday morning feeling like I just ran a marathon. Three days, three shows.

The last show of the weekend was up in Orange County, at Stereo Brewing. Great venue, great people, great bands.

I’m here in the home studio toady loafing around in awe of this late October sunshine. The kids are rolling around, friends stopping by, can’t help but smile to myself. Days like this are why I love to call California my home. In my eyes California is the land of opportunity, the home of the American Dream. DISCLAIMER: I’m originally from Pennsylvania. Over the years I’ve heard so many people bitch about this state, its politics, its taxes, about L.A. traffic, how everyone is plastic, ect. My take?

I’ll use the words of the Beach Boys, ‘I wish they all could be California girls’.

I fell in love with a California girl over 20 years ago, I can still clearly see her on the day we met in that green dress with the girlfriends. After we graduated (1999), I followed her like a stray dog accross the country with nothing. Everything I have now is built on top of a foundation of love. Love is more resilient than anything out there, it’s our sustenance, our nourishment. On the flip side, life without love is a death sentence. It’s one of the reasons I deeply appreciate all the musicians I’ve met over the years in San Diego’s local music scene. The people I meet are filled with love, and work their asses off to share their music with the people. I also can say the same thing about the surfers I know.

Swells been firing this past week. So many epic ass whoppings, served up with those perfect waves. When you take a set wave on the head, it’s like getting hit by a freight train. Sometimes it doesn’t hurt as hard as you think it will, other times it nearly breaks you spiritually. It’s hard to describe, but you have to keep loose, have strong lungs, and not panic. Fortunately for me (sarcasm), I took a few beasts on the head right as the swell was building. It was Thursday morning, and I started to panic because the water was warm and I was overheating in my 3/2 O’Neil Hyperfreak wetsuit. The hold down wasn’t too bad, but I started to hyperventilate due to the heat of my wetsuit. Same situation in trunks, I’d be golden. Once I made it out past the sets after a few waves, I had to practice deep breathing to slow my heart rated down. Within a few minutes, I was fine. Didn’t hurt that my neighbor who’s a doctor was out there.

‘He who fights and run away, live to fight another day’ Bob Marley

Right about now you’re probably asking yourself, ‘what the hell does this have to do with music?‘. Everything, let me explain. Love and the ocean are the source of my inspiration. As far as I’m concerned, who I play music, I’m playing love songs (to my wife and kids), and surf music. True, my music sounds nothing like Dick Dale, The Beach Boys, or the Ventures, but its surf music. Fun fact, I don’t think anyone in The Beach Boys actually surfed at all. My voice and my music are connected directly to the act of riding waves, because surfing is part of my live show warmup. Every time I surf, my lungs strengthen enough to perform long shows with ease. When you sing (or play harmonica) correctly, the air moves from your diaphragm. Singing coaches call that your jet engine, your power source. Singing properly can feel like doing hundreds of sit-ups. When I woke up this morning, my core was shredded. It’s an athletic endeavor if/when you do it right, and it felt damn good if I do say so myself.

Daily surf sessions with friends and family keep me in touch with inspiration. I often pray to ancestors who’ve passed on as I paddle though the water, a liquid church that covers nearly 3/4 of the planet.

So that’s a brief description of the physical aspects of the job, surfing has also a mental and spiritual side. The sport has taken me around the world countless times. It’s a direct line to my ancestors. Travel and experience are pure gold when it comes to telling a story. There’s a few basic truths to live by, unless you’ve lived it, don’t bother singing it, and a man is only as good as his word. Music has to come from an honest place.

Can’t tell a lie through a song, and expect folks to listen all that long

Singing that final verse every time I perform ‘New Day Dawn‘ is a reminder to stay true to your word, stay true to the music. Memory and recollections can often be interesting puzzles to decipher. Always remember that the human mind has the capacity to lie to itself. Music and writing provide an opportunity to recall events that may, or may not have happened. Try to see the actions clear enough to paint a picture in the mind of the listener. At 55 years, there’s an excess of imagery and moving pictured bouncing around in my head. Sometimes a song on the radio, a quote from a book, or a jingle on the TV transports me back to the exact time and place through free association.

All of this, the physical, mental, and spiritual came into play as we rehearsed, then performed the shows last week. On some days, I’d forget my breathing and sing until I got a headache from lack of oxygen. There’s also the fact that I commonly blow out my voice when I can’t hear myself through the monitors (often if you’re in front of an amp or the kick, it leads to this). When preparing for the shows, I made sure the song keys fit my vocal range. This is another part of my process, let me explain. When I learn a song, or write a song, I’ll often play the changes up and down the neck until I get to the closest proximity of my speaking voice. The reason I do this is so that I have freedom to improvise once the song gets cooking. It’s part of working smarter, not harder, especially if one plans to perform every day of the week. My shows, depending on the venue are 2-3 hours. Lugging a PA anywhere is not worth it if you’re planning on playing only an hour. At this point of my life there are keys that I feel at home in and those that are out of reach, well, that is until I sing down an octave or two. In the past, I’ve woke up after a show with little to no voice. Now I wake up feeling energized, as if I just ran a marathon.

Singing and playing smarter, not harder is the reason for that change. Well, admittedly I woke up a bit cloudy after seeing a couple bands post show Friday night, but that’s another fun story. Which brings me to the next point, playing with people you actually have fun with. Every single musician I perform with, I truly enjoy as a person. There’s no point in ever working for or with an asshole, regardless of how good he/she is. Being a perfectionist and working hard is fine, but being negative to bandmate is a child’s game. We all make mistakes, and have bad days regardless of how hard we prepare for something. More often criticism isn’t constructive at all, just worthless bitching. Years ago, I learned that any musician worth his salt can perform the changes of a song in any key so that the singer can perform the song to the best of their ability. It’s a jazz thing, but it’s also musical consideration. It’s being a good listener.

I ended my writing Sunday right here, I’ll finish up this post with a closing commentary. It’s funny because today the weather in San Diego is cold and foggy, the exact opposite of Sunday morning. Sunday Morning Coming Down, love that song…

Interesting how this essay took an unexpected path through actually events, insights, and past experiences. It even try to understand the difference between hard work, difficult decisions, and negativity. There’s an old adage that says never to mix business and pleasure, or to never work with friends. I believe the opposite. If you are passionate about what you do, do it with people you are close with. Share that passion with them and enjoy the close friendship which that gift fosters. This journey is not meant to be taken alone, we’re meant to share it.

It’s probably going to be snowing up in Mammoth soon, time to be training at altitude. What this past weekend has taught me is that I need to train, even if I don’t have a rigorous touring schedule, I need to play every night. It’s the only way to feel good vocally, and establish a consistent sound and an unbroken connection to the source.