Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts

Monday, February 28, 2011

"Don't go to SXSW®" follow-up (short on poetry, long on wind)

I am honored by the many thoughtful comments that last week's article "Songs as Gifts Simultaneously Received and Given (Don't go to SXSW®)" has inspired. My first piece of was a more poetic, general, and less narrative work, but a few readers seem to be looking for a more specific follow-up, so I am happy to oblige...

Some have missed a key distinction, which I may not have made quite clear, I am not criticizing musicians who play at SXSW® or other inadequate venues or festivals, I am criticizing the festival. However, if musicians refused to engage with these exploitative and mediocre systems, the festivals/venues would disappear or change. Hence the call to boycott, and my strong language: “don’t go”.

I have personally felt very unhappy performing in many loveless commercial spaces, bars in particular, and eventually came to the realization that it is not necessary. Creative practice (a.k.a. art) is not the same as entertainment, sometimes they are interchangeable, but not as a rule. Spaces that want to sell something (other than the experience of the music itself) are interested in entertainment as a method of bringing people into the space to sell to them.

So are you revealing truth and beauty or are you selling drinks? Of course it is possible to do both at the same time, but why should you? Why should we cow down to a parasitic and mediocre set of parameters? And who’s pockets are we padding, and what exploitations are we propping up? Most musicians are underpaid or not paid at all for their hard work. In my experience it is the less commercial venues (art galleries, houses, community spaces, unofficial clubs, etc.) that pay artists a reasonable percentage of the money they bring in.

SXSW®'s clear commercial agenda is certainly enough to throw up a red flag or two. This little gem of a statement on there website kind of says it all: "With numerous avenues for exposure to over 36,000 key industry representatives, SXSW® 2011 is the most valuable addition to any marketing plan." Their key sponsors are… Chevy, Miller Lite, AOL, Pepsi & Monster Energy Drink… to my mind this kind of multi-national corporate underwriting is an obvious problem that doesn’t require overt analysis. May it also be noted that despite the distasteful sponsorship there is a $25 fee for all bands to apply to the festival. Tens of thousands of bands apply.

Unfortunately there are a lot of non-creative middle-men that profit while artists’ starve, and grasp in the dark for recognition. SXSW® uses a particularly shabby intermediary called sonicbids(dot)com that charges artists a monthly fee to set up a profile, and then collects additional money for submissions to venues and festivals. It is even more unfortunate that musicians are led to believe it is necessary to engage with similar parasites in order to share their tunes. Further more, these middle-men and bad venues contribute to a setting of competition that benefits them and not us. Bands will pay to be considered “legitimate”, and step over each other to play for someone else’s profit.

We sometimes pay a much higher price when we attempt to engage with the sacred in a place where very few, if any, could succeed. We may loose our way back to the ecstatic source, we may eventually no longer hear the songs, and we may give up the quest entirely.

So, a practical summary… Musicians who are interested in making a better artistic community/habitat ought to… demand payment if money changes hands anywhere in a venue, seek out spaces that care about music for music’s sake, make your own way as much as possible, and support each other! This is not cynacism, cynacism implies resignation, I believe that a better way is out there, I have tasted it, and I want more.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Songs as Gifts Simultaneously Received and Given (Don't go to SXSW®)

Dear musicians... Let me be plain, don't go to SXSW®. Mass consumer spectacle isn't very musical. Artists climbing over each other to get 50 shows so they can be "discovered" doesn't have much to do with truth or beauty. Stay home and record a song. Go into the mountains, the desert, to the top of a building, and receive one. Play a show in the town right next to yours that you've never actually been to.

Say no to vampires. So no to mediocrity. You make music and there is no one who doesn’t love music, this makes you one of the most powerful people in the world. Tastes may vary widely, but music is a universal good. You create the most important human export.

The Ainu (Japan’s native population) believe that songs are Man’s gift back to the Universe. As the top of the food chain we do very little to give back, so the Ainu played epic music at every meal and many times throughout each day to honor the beings, and land that sustained their lives. When they played the spirits gathered to drink the song, to bathe in the music.

Every primary culture I have ever studied believed that songs were received, sometimes smuggled back from another plane, usually the world of spirits. Or given to them from some non-physical beings, or some ineffable place. These songs were generally semi-secret songs that gave the singer power and specialized knowledge. So a song is a gift that is simultaneously given and received. That sounds right to me.

Let’s take a few (thousand) steps back and return to the sacred. Not the kind of sacred that is static, reserved or dogmatic. The sacred that is ecstatic, powerful, creative/destructive, funny, wise, overwhelming, honest, entheogenic (God manifesting), hallucinogenic (vision manifesting), and/or psychedelic (mind manifesting). Don’t fill your head or environment with simulacra songs, turn off the car radio, try to tune out the music in the market. And stop giving your songs to parasites. Play only where creation is welcome, where the sacred particles of music can do their good work, swirl for the spirits, and dance for our own.





Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Another Gift From the Amazon

The richness of the Amazon cannot be overstated... Millions of species interpenetrating, the densest and most diverse ecosystem in the world. Ancient civilizations of staggering technological and cosmological advancement. An estimated 3,000 unique languages over the many centuries. Plants that open the soul (Ayahuasca). Plants that cure cancer (maybe). And also this joyful albino man and his merry band playing some genuinely silly music, guaranteed to put a twinkle in your eye! Magicians were usually hermits, and his name's Hermeto.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Birthdays! Robbie Basho 70 / Majik Dudes 1

Today would have been the 70th birthday of Robbie Basho, composer, guitarist, pianist, singer, sage. In memoriam I wrote this piece about him last year, and am re-posting it, with some of my favorite songs in toe.

This was also the FIRST post ever on Majik Dudes, in 2009, so today is our birthday too!

“Basho as Imagined” by Fletcher Tucker

7 feet tall and 29 pounds, Robbie Basho was created on August 31st 1940. His enormous stature was attributed (by many) to his father, the Mountain, conversely his feathery weight was bestowed upon him by his mother, Fresh Fallen Snow. With hands as broad as an alpine stream during spring thaw, Basho was made to play the 12-string guitar… some find it a daunting instrument… the breadth of its neck, and the delicate placement of the strings challenge most, but nourished Basho. Channeling old and modern magic through his instrument Basho set out to create a new form of music, the American Raga. As gifted as any beast can be with an instrument, or composition, he was equally gifted as a singer. Basho had a voice like an old Viking king and a range of highest vibratos and rumbling, lamenting moans; his remarkable vocal power was no doubt a bi-product of lungs comparably sized to that of a bull moose. His lyrics were a refined visionary beam, casting light on mythos and mystery from the ancient America, mystic Persia, ascetic Hindu, and feudal Japan. Warrior-artist Basho, armed with voice, words, wood (body), steel (strings), and sight, is one of our greatest illuminators… little known shaman of America the Beautiful… bringer of song from beyond the veil.






















Songs: "Green River Suite" from Visions of the Country --- "Wounded Knee Soliloquy" from The Voice of the Eagle --- "Khalil Gibran" from Zarthus

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Ceremonies Conclusion (our 1st show!)

The first Majik Dudes Ceremony was a privilege and joy to present. So many good feelings and good people it could grow a forest in my chest. Everyone who was present created the gift, I thank you and welcome you back in the nearish future.


Some pictures glow below, and videos of the event will rumble through here soon. Higher res pictures on my flikr


The Alter

Flora & Shadow installation by Noël Vietor & Fletcher Tucker

WORDS with their bones

BIRD BY SNOW with quietfriendsband

SEAN SMITH with a shadow

DANIEL HIGGS unfolding the mysteries

Friday, April 30, 2010

Opening Ceremony

MAJIK PARTY FAVORS! The first arrivers to the May 1st show (Daniel Higgs / Sean Smith / Bird By Snow / Words /see info below) will receive two stones from a beach in Big Sur where a river returns to its source: the Pacific Ocean. A confluence of energy is present in this place and stored in these rocks. We will be conducting ceremony with these party favors, as we all venture to return to the source: the greater mind of the present moment.


Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Why We Gather

We gather to share song-birth, the moment when music is born and we are born inside it. There is no separation between song and singer, between listener and creator, between creation and listener and creator and the moment itself. What can music do? It can remove boundaries, it can pick up the lines we draw between one another. A song fills a room and everyone in it. It travels as vibrations into our bodies and minds, and between us. Music reminds us of the vast ocean of undivided reality. Songs lead us back to the huge fluid freedom. So we gather, in the center of this world, the center that creates us as we in turn create it. We gather and we listen and play with sound and silence, with majik and mystery, with the subtle and the solid.

Please come to this gathering (below), our first Majik Dudes Happening, which will be ripe with majik, ready to be picked and eaten.

May 1st, 2010
66 Sanchez St., San Francisco, CA
(66 Sanchez is James Howell Studio, a Yoga and Dance Studio)
8 PM
$5
All-Ages

Monday, April 12, 2010

May 1st, concert happening! Daniel A.I.U. Higgs (mystic poet/ecstatic singer)

66 Sanchez is James Howell Studio, a Yoga and Dance Studio with hardwood floors and skylights!

May 1st, 2010
66 Sanchez St., San Francisco, CA
8 PM
$5
All-Ages

Fittingly this first show is featuring one of my favorite songwriters of this or any dimension: DANIEL HIGGS. Daniel Higgs performs alongside shruti drones, and nimbly constructed long-neck-banjo sound webs. His larynx is tuned to resonant frequencies of the cosmic, the Gnostic, the esoteric. He barters for meaning with words usually off-limits in the scenes of Indie… words like Christ and Lucifer feature in the lyrics of almost every one of Higgs’ songs. And yet the usually only ironically religious youth sit on loft and DIY art gallery floors taking in music that engages a set of symbols most of them (us) forcefully rejected in small towns across this primarily Christian nation. Maybe these (we) young people sense an altogether deeper meaning and understanding of the Biblical in Daniel Higgs because he was in Lungfish (the seminal hardcore band)… or maybe it is his appearance: gray beard, round face, and tattooed hands (like a Punk Pagan Santa)… maybe his past or his look are at odds with a conservative interpretation of his words. Maybe, but I think it is actually the songs themselves, and Higgs’ presence, his humble and profound presentation of songs that deal in religious themes in a way that is also humble and profound. Religion is the same as poetry, words, names and stories stand in for feelings and perceptions unspeakable, and unspoken. When you say Christ, you say a lot. And when Daniel Higgs says: “see the Devil in the Christ if it’s the true Christ that you seek”, he sums up 1,ooo lines about non-dualistic thinking, in one verse. That’s how it feels to me anyway!

SEAN SMITH is the best guitarist in California. He is a creator and destroyer of instrumental worlds.

BIRD BY SNOW is my band, which this evening will feature advanced sound structures rhythmic, joyful, and hopefully room filling.

WORDS is an improvisational group featuring reeds and brass for the benefit of our wave-mind experience.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

John Cage as Imagined

“And what is the purpose of writing music? One is, or course, not dealing with purposes but dealing with sounds. Or the answer must take the form of paradox: a purposeful purposelessness or purposeless play. This play, however, is an affirmation of life – not an attempt to bring order out of chaos nor to suggest improvements in creation, but simply a way of waking up to the very life we’re living, which is so excellent once one gets one’s mind and one’s desires out of its way and lets it act of its own accord.” –John Cage

"John Cage as Imagined" by Fletcher Tucker

First there was his voice, clear and gentle like that of a glacial stream. The voice, of course, intones the mind, which was even more clear, more gentle, perhaps more like a wind lightly pushing us this way and that way. His fingers were long, a gift not just for playing the piano, but also for pointing. He kept his fingernails overgrown so he could not clench a fist, nor clutch anything too tightly. He had ears that could rotate around (like a coyote) which he would also point with. Pointing was his favorite… with riddles and performances he would point to sounds, to symbols, to waves… to deep oceans. At parties he would entertain fifty conversations all at once, and answer every question he was asked with another question. He always brought guacamole, or a three-bean salad. John Cage was the Roshi of the New School. The subtle broom of western music. Your black-sheep uncle who never forgot your birthday. His only instrument was his mind, which he learned to let play itself. On his 433rd birthday John Cage was eaten by a shark while surfing. With his last breath, he was heard (only by the shark) to say: “How lovely to be eaten by such a great composer, one who can finally teach me about silence.”

photo notes: from the inter-net... further note: thanks are due to my friend Spencer Owen for showing me John Cage in a tangible way.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

an Indie Sutra

“Concert at the Gateless Gate – Touring & Non-Attachment”

Surely this show, this song, must end. As soon as the thought of the concert forms its impermanence begins also, expanding and thinning out, in unstoppable entropy. A song, like a life, lasts only as long as the breath, and stretches only in our conceptions past the immediate present moment. It is in this moment that we encounter the most astonishing gift of song, a potentially absolute union of performer with listener, listener with performer, and all listeners with one another. This extends only as far as one’s will to surrender entirely to that moment. Should we be willing… here we are reprieved of boundaries, as musician and audience participate equally in the mind-manifesting that is song-birth.

Though they end, after this show there is another. Despite the frustration or elation experienced during any “gig” the musician must let it go, for it is fleeting and soon to be replaced. Although a generous audience, fine venue, and evening of excellent playing can sustain and up-lift an artist, it cannot actually be preserved. And though inattentive listeners, impolite sound engineers, and many false notes can diminish one’s confidence, the show is soon forgotten by all, and swallowed by the void instantly with no sentiment. There is nothing to be done, no pain to be avoided, no pleasure to be preserved… only what arises as it does.

Thus we find the touring road of music-makers to be actually the road of non-attachment and present-mindedness. So we sing as the gateless gate comes into view, perhaps far off, but always approaching.

- Fletcher M. Tucker, June 2009 (on tour)

photo notes: taken by Gyða Björg Sigurðardóttir 2009, in a cave in western Iceland

Monday, August 31, 2009

Basho as Imagined

Today would have been the 69th birthday of Robbie Basho, composer, guitarist, pianist, singer, sage. In memoriam I have written this piece about him…

“Basho as Imagined” by Fletcher Tucker

7 feet tall and 29 pounds, Robbie Basho was created on August 31st 1940. His enormous stature was attributed (by many) to his father, the Mountain, conversely his feathery weight was bestowed upon him by his mother, Fresh Fallen Snow. With hands as broad as an alpine stream during spring thaw, Basho was made to play the 12-string guitar… some find it a daunting instrument… the breadth of its neck, and the delicate placement of the strings challenge most, but nourished Basho. Channeling old and modern magic through his instrument Basho set out to create a new form of music, the American Raga. As gifted as any beast can be with an instrument, or composition, he was equally gifted as a singer. Basho had a voice like an old Viking king and a range of highest vibratos and rumbling, lamenting moans; his remarkable vocal power was no doubt a bi-product of lungs comparably sized to that of a bull moose. His lyrics were a refined visionary beam, casting light on mythos and mystery from the ancient America, mystic Persia, ascetic Hindu, and feudal Japan. Warrior-artist Basho, armed with voice, words, wood (body), steel (strings), and sight, is one of our greatest illuminators… little known shaman of America the Beautiful… bringer of song from beyond the veil.

  • “Factual” information can be found at the wikipedia
  • His records are rare, and almost none of them are currently in print, so look for them to download. I recommend “Voice of the Eagle” & “Visions on the Country” but also stand by each and every one his many records.
"The Eagle cried to the sun: we are all one!"- Basho

photo notes: taken by Fletcher Tucker 2007, of an amazing wood carving in a museum in Paris France