This was gonna be the first song on my fifth CD, but then I forgot to make one. Recorded live after hours at The Wintertide Coffeehouse on Martha’s Vineyard – 800 years ago, on state-of-the-art DAT!!!
One of my current projects is writing the music and lyrics for a new show. The producer has decreed that in exchange for the privilege of my being paid in gumballs, delivery of a complete first draft is expected in about ten minutes – and I started in March. Impossible? Yes. Happening anyway? Of course. But right now I’m temporarily stuck, and in a great big lady panic over it.
The great thing about being what they call an up-and-coming composer is that you can be bought – cheap. Let me clarify: this is a great thing if you happen to be a producer, but maybe not so much if you are you. (Or me.) Still, I’ve been around way too long to buy into the idea that the people finding/spending the money to make art happen are the enemy. Making the actual art hurts and it’s hard and it sucks and it blows. Work, they call it. I’m lucky to have it, and I know that. It only sounds like I’m complaining because this is a blog, and that is apparently what blogs like to do.
Photo by Matt Hinkley. Tempo indication by me. Person who forgot to take a picture of it: also me.
And get this: whenever I talk to my dad on the phone, and he mentions something about my perseverance (as if I have a choice – I nailed that coffin shut long ago), or expresses the hope that my “big break” arrives sometime soon, I find myself actually getting a little defensive. “I’m a full-time musician in New York City; that’s a pretty big break right there,” goes one of my sample pitches. But it’s true. I may not have my beach house yet (and by the time I do, I hope I don’t have to buy one with the ramps already installed), but I do work regularly, and usually on challenging, interesting and rewarding projects. Including this one. My collaborator is a hoot, and our Skype sessions are the stuff of future legend. And that producer? A real-live, nice guy, whom I genuinely like.
Things could be worse (and have been [and will]). So when I get frustrated after Day 3 of staring at a blank piece of manuscript paper, or panicked about a looming deadline, or fed up with fielding inane suggestions from my cats (like they even know theory), all I have to do is picture Little Baby Michael Holland, whom I’m told I resemble, and who once dreamed of moving to New York, to “do music.” And now he gets to.
Thanks for the gumball, Mickey.*
*not his real name
“If She Really Loved You” from Beach Toys Won’t Save You (2003)
Check this space for various odds’n’ends (with emphasis on the odds) – lost tracks, demos, new songs, whatever! Lotsa stuff kicking around in the vaults.
CREDITS: Written, produced, arranged and performed by Some Hack.
Additional musicians: Michael Visceglia – bass; Joe Mowatt – triangle, egg; Jerry Smith – fingersnap solo; Arco-holics Anonymous – REAL strings!
© Holland Highwater Music, ASCAP; Ⓟ 2003 Miss Prim Records
We’re doing our “Hole-O-Matic” show of mashups-by-request at Don’t Tell Mama, 343 W46 St, NYC every Saturday at 8, from now till we forget where it is probably, but at least through June.
So George is making my website. But he’s also making me write one of these infernal blog things. It’s not that I’m resistant to the idea; it’s just that I’m kinda busy, and I’m worried about making another commitment. Okay, let’s be honest. It’s probably more a case of not wanting to put effort into something that has the potential of making even less impact on the world than the stuff I’m actually working on. There’s a lot of chatter out there. And frankly, I don’t know where everyone finds the time for all that blogging and pintering and twitting and whatever else you’re all so engaged in while you’re walking into traffic. Hey, this is fun.
So I guess the idea is that I’m supposed to post these little dispatches (about what, who knows) on a regular basis, to provide the undiscriminating reader a glimpse into the molar-shattering thrillride that is being a sequestered composer. AND lyricist. (Honestly, the excitement never ends.) If the intrigue of lost files, elusive rhymes and broken guitar strings isn’t part of your day-to-day, I’ll try not to get too technical. And if we get bored, maybe I’ll just post some cat videos. Until then, be thankful that I do not yet know how to do this.
I can remember when it took quadruple the time to create sheet music on a computer than it did by hand – while blindfolded, with a different song playing in the background – and now I live for my devices, so I guess they’re here to stay. (This just in.) So…why not. Welcome to my blog, earthlings.
And yes, I know that pintering and twitting are not real things. Come on, now.
