I'm working on getting a new Dan Johnson and the Expert Sidemen project wrapped up. This one is coming out, like all projects do, as its own kind of creation. One of the great things about a project like a studio recording is the collaborative nature of it. While I might come into it with one vision, invariably the journey takes us places I never expected, if I'm open to the trip.
I was planning on having a long Saturday afternoon to record this album - turns out I had booked a Sunday, and the band had a gig that afternoon. We ended up going into the studio on a Sunday morning, kind of churchishly. I brought lots of canteloupe for the band. It was a cold cold February morning - the grey Albany sky at once moody and vacant. Carl Blackwood, our studio engineer, showed up with a new beard. Brian Elsenbeck showed up with his accordion and banjo. We went into the small but comfortable studio and started getting our instruments ready. I was thinking too much and tried to get myself into a more physical or sensual state by eating canteloupe, drinking coffee, and playing the Wildwood Flower on the guitar. Cold mornings can be hell on guitars. Soon arrived Pete with the doghouse bass and Roger with the pedal steel. Sometimes it's easy to overlook how lucky I am to get to play with such great people, but I've got to say I really feel like that's the bottom line in any musical situation - the relationship between the players. We banged out eleven tracks in under three hours - all live, no overdubs - except for the harmony vocals, which Pete came in and did a month or so later.
Dan and the Sidemen at Warming Room Studios
I had a vision of us in the studio into the early evening on a Saturday, with all the time in the world. Instead, we ended up crushed for time - which can be a real vibe killer - stress in the studio is almost unavoidable, but I've found that a performance is most endearing when it is really loose and comfy, not when it's tight and stressed. We were lucky enough to still be a little dreamy I guess, and we knocked out all the tracks in fine order - and I've got to say I'm happily enchanted with what we came up with.
We've got eleven tracks, and it's looking like we'll probably use ten, but might end up cutting a couple more just to keep things kind of spare. Whereas the last album we tried to use a relatively wide palette of sound, this time we limited ourselves to our respective main instruments, except for Brian, who plays both accordion and banjo. Most of the tracks are pretty upbeat - I felt like Sleep on the Way came out a little sleepy, maybe, and wanted to do something a little more ass kicking. In the end, I guess SOTW came out just right - it's got its own kind of dark vibe. Being up in VT since October has definitely been good for me - it's brought me into some kind of brightness mentally and emotionally. I've been spending a lot of time out in the woods and I think that's a big part of it.
I'm thinking right now that we'll title the album "Beautiful Mess." That's the title of one of the songs, and it's about how it feels to try and fail, and internal and external recognition. It kind of asks "At what point is one succesful?" Where is success? It kind of relates back to a trip I had back in Boston MA on a New Year's Eve. I was feeling pretty shaky, and so I started painting to calm myself down. As I started to get into it, a terrible and awful realization came to me. I realized that no amount of praise would ever satisfy me when it came to art - that all of the perceived applause would eventually wither and die and cause more pain than it could ever absorb. I froze in fear. What saved me was the realization that I wasn't painting to be noticed or appreciated, and that the effect of the work meant nothing. It was completely empty, whereas the act of the work was full - full of possibility, full of feeling, full of decision and risk. So the realization that came from this terrible fear was that there is nothing as artist need fear in any work. And this was part of what I tried to get across in the song "Beautiful Mess." I'm also at a place in my life where I'm thinking a lot about life work, career, legacy, cash and truthfulness. In a lot of ways, my life, and maybe yours, essentially amounts to a beautiful mess. The more I focus on the beauty of it, the more I see the logic of it, which really isn't a logic at all, but maybe more of a harmony.
I'll keep you all posted on this project and others. Thanks for reading - and leave a comment.
