The blah, blah, blah...
I'm about 96% certain I'm not going to use the fake band names any more. I've decided that I no longer want to conventionalize my music under prefab rubrics that tell people "you should expect to hear this kind of music from this particular artist." It's silly. The artist isn't The Tool Factory Project. The artist isn't The Subterranean Philharmonic Orchestra. There is no Tool Factory Project. There is no Subterranean Philharmonic Orchestra. There's just me: an eclectic guy who plays a lot of different instruments (some of them well!) and likes making a lot of different kinds of music, and I just don't feel the need to "dilute the brand" (as Mrs. Griffmakesmusic would say) by releasing multiple recordings under multiple fake band names. I am the brand. I am the band. Me. Richard Griffith.
I noticed this was a problem for me when I was promoting "The Tool Factory Project" and I played gigs at local joints billing myself as The Tool Factory Project. When I got to the gigs and started tuning my guitars and setting up my looper, the guy or gal running the place would invariably say something like "when is the band coming?" or "oh, I thought you were coming with a band tonight." And I would have to tell them that The Tool Factory Project is my name for the fake band that played on my album titled "The Tool Factory Project"--which, I know, shouldn't be that baffling these days, considering the number of solo DJ's/laptop artists, et al, who perform under an ostensibly bandish name, but it seemed to throw folks--largely, I think, because the album is meant to sound like it was recorded by a band (well, actually about six or seven different bands, all working in different sub-genres of pop music, but I don't wanna get into that right now). TFP was also meant to be an homage to a really fun group I played with in the '90's--the first group I ever played with that was completely OK with doing songs about robots, dogs, cheesy sci-fi, and whatnot. Moreover, I thought sticking a band name (fake or otherwise) on my projects would eventually get me past the "who the hell is Richard Griffith" issue (completely overlooking the "who the hell is The Tool Factory Project" issue...).
OK, so cut to "Take the Stairs" which I released under my own name, and which I initially intended to be a collection of songs done in a sort of "singer/songwriter" idiom which I could easily perform live more or less just like they appeared on the CD. This would make this CD easy and fun to promote. Well, the singer/songwriter idiom lasted about five seconds into the recording of the first track (which was "Living in Wednesday") which just had to have some keen electric guitar work and lots of digital delay and on and on and on....
...which left me with an album of songs released entirely under my own name that I couldn't perform live just as I'd recorded them, and that made it difficult and unpleasant to promote. OK, I'm probably overselling that a bit. I actually had a lot of fun with the "Take the Stairs" gigs, including the ones I did with my short-lived unfake band, The Atomic Panic, but I was unhappy with the fact that I wasn't performing the tunes as they were on the album. For me, the recordings were the "art". The performances, therefore, became, in many ways, commercials to try to sell the real art. Which they didn't. Well, not much anyway, but whaddyagonnadoaboutthat?
I went through much of the same mental process when I completed my first CD of electronic music, which I knew for a fact I would never be performing live, so I thought a fake band name would be just the ticket. Hence The Subterranean Philharmonic Orchestra, a stupid band name I've wanted to use since college. So I used it. Also not selling well, which tells me that either (a) the music is just not something that people want or (b) the name isn't drawing people in or (c) both.
So here's the deal: I can't control who's going to like or not like my music. Sometimes I think of myself as the musical equivalent of those roadside sculptors who make giant pterodactyls from old milk bottles and tuna fish cans or build huge stone grottoes from quick-set cement encrusted with old wrist watches and fountain pens. I love the attitude and the ethos of the outsider artist: create what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law, whether anyone else likes it or not. And that's kind of where I want to be with my music. Sure, I want people to like it, listen to it, purchase it and so on (and I know those folks are out there...somewhere), but that can't be the main reason that I make the stuff. I have to make music for me that I like and will be proud of, and that says whatever it is I feel like saying at the moment I'm making it, whether it's Renaissance lute music or atonal electronic music or silly little songs about robots, candy and the devil. I mean, why have a Secret Underground Laboratory if you're not going to use it to make giant mutant tarantulas once in a while?
The bottom line is this: it no longer works for me to try to establish an image for my music by pretending to be this or that fake band any more than it would work for me to hang my entire act--studio or live--on a fake Irish accent or a bad Tom Waits impersonation. I'm not Irish. I'm not Tom Waits. I'm not The Tool Factory Project. I'm Rick Griffith--sonic adventurer, robot hunter, mastermind--Griff Makes Music. Expect much more to come...
This self-indulgent manifesto has been brought to you by the good people at Soylent Corporation. Soylent Green is people.
Be excellent to yourselves!
Rick
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
If a tree falls in the woods...
The blah, blah, blah:
I had an interesting experience some weeks back at the CONVergence sci-fi/fantasy convention in Bloomington, MN. Taking a much needed break from my labors in the dealer's room, I wandered down to catch a musical duo calling themselves "The Japanese Space Program" in the Harmonic Convergence suite. I'd never seen or heard these cats before, but the name intrigued me and, a few minutes into the set, I decided I was a fan. They were just two skinny guys playing electric guitars (one of them a wacky Danelectro baritone) through a floor full of effects pedals, with beats provided by an iPhone app, and a sound that was weird, goofy and occasionally disturbing. I'm not particularly good at identifying the various pigeon holes and rubrics under which current music is classified, but I would say their sound was sort of avante-garde, post-rock noise music--which doesn't really say much, but it definitely worked for me. Check them out on your favorite social networking site if you're curious.
What I found remarkable about the experience was that, aside from me, the guys in the band, the sound guy and a rotating cast of two or three other spectators, there was no one else there to watch these cats make their sublimely weird noises. This was disappointing, as I felt that what they were doing musically was significantly more in keeping with the mission of an event like CONVergence than the vast majority of the hip-hop, fake Irish folk and "filk" groups which fleshed out the remainder of the con's musical schedule. If a name like "Japanese Space Program" and music that could easily be used for the sound track of any Philip K. Dick movie adaptation can't pique the curiosity of a hotel full of sci-fi fans, then I clearly have no concept of demographic-based music promotion.
Clearly, I have no concept of demographic-based music promotion. What else I found remarkable about this experience was how much I still wanted "the full show" from these guys regardless of how many people were or weren't hip enough to get that they were The Band to see at Con. My enjoyment of their act was not diminished by the fact that I wasn't surrounded by screaming fans, though I suspect the guys would have had more fun if the room had been full of attentive, Japanese Space Program-focused human bodies. In fact, I know the guys would have had more fun if the room had been full, because I've been there far more often than not these past few years, and the realization of this sparked an epiphany. Too often have I given a performance wherein I found myself apologizing--sometimes figuratively, sometimes literally--to the two or three people in the room for what I perceived as a clearly sub-entertaining performance, as evidenced by the fact that the room wasn't brimming with attentive, Griff Makes Music-focused human bodies. It's not entirely unreasonable to assume that what you're doing lacks appeal if few or no people come to see you doing it, but it's a sophistry to leap to that conclusion based solely on the size of your audience. And it's downright unforgivable to give anything less than "the full show" if the audience size doesn't meet your expectations or wishes. Clearly, the people who have come to see your act--and stay for your entire act--are Exactly the Right People to see your act, and they deserve "the full show," no apologies required.
OK, I'm gonna end this rant by saying that I'm ridiculously grateful to every single Usual Suspect that has supported me, my performances and my recordings over the past five or six years. If you've come to see me once, twice or twenty times since I got serious about playing music publicly, I thank you unequivocally. I'd like to play for more people more often. I'd like for lots more people to hear--and hopefully, purchase--my recordings. The key to meeting both of these wishes is to reach Exactly the Right People with the message about what it is I do. I know those people are out there. Some already come to my gigs. Most of them have never heard of me, but I bet you know some of them, and it would be just dandy if you'd help me spread the word. Send folks that you think would like my music to this blog, or to the Griff Makes Music page on Facebook, and let them know about my albums on iTunes, CD Baby and just about everywhere else on the IntraWeb. And while you're at it, tell them about The Japanese Space Program. Those guys are hot!
Item the First: The Prince's Masque: Royal Music for Romance and Revelry is now available on CD Baby and iTunes. Click on the album picture at the left to go to the CD Baby site or search for "The Prince's Masque" or Richard Griffith on iTunes (and check out some of my other stuff while you're there).
Item the Second: I can't access Spotify, cuz I'm in the US, but folks in Finland, the UK and several other European countries, principalities and the like can, and it appears that they've discovered my discography. I've seen a fair number of streams of both of my first lute albums and Take the Stairs which is amazingly gratifying. Spotify streams don't pay a lot, but I can't tell you how just how gigantically buzzed I am that people are listening. If you're one of them, give me a shout and say hello!
Item the Third: There will be no "First Friday at the Madhatter" performance in August, as I will be on a Secret Mission that night. Shhhh! It's a secret! Regular performances will resume in September.
Item the Fourth: The Twin Cities Lute Co-op is coming back. Stay tuned!!!
And finally...thanks to all of them what made the scene at my CD release party this past Saturday. The weather was weird, there were a lot of events going on in the Twin Cities...and still you came. Can't wait to do sumpin' like it again, and soon.
...and that's it fer now, cats and kittens. Until next time, play nice, eat right and don't be too hip for the room.
Be excellent to yourselves!!!
Rick
I had an interesting experience some weeks back at the CONVergence sci-fi/fantasy convention in Bloomington, MN. Taking a much needed break from my labors in the dealer's room, I wandered down to catch a musical duo calling themselves "The Japanese Space Program" in the Harmonic Convergence suite. I'd never seen or heard these cats before, but the name intrigued me and, a few minutes into the set, I decided I was a fan. They were just two skinny guys playing electric guitars (one of them a wacky Danelectro baritone) through a floor full of effects pedals, with beats provided by an iPhone app, and a sound that was weird, goofy and occasionally disturbing. I'm not particularly good at identifying the various pigeon holes and rubrics under which current music is classified, but I would say their sound was sort of avante-garde, post-rock noise music--which doesn't really say much, but it definitely worked for me. Check them out on your favorite social networking site if you're curious.
What I found remarkable about the experience was that, aside from me, the guys in the band, the sound guy and a rotating cast of two or three other spectators, there was no one else there to watch these cats make their sublimely weird noises. This was disappointing, as I felt that what they were doing musically was significantly more in keeping with the mission of an event like CONVergence than the vast majority of the hip-hop, fake Irish folk and "filk" groups which fleshed out the remainder of the con's musical schedule. If a name like "Japanese Space Program" and music that could easily be used for the sound track of any Philip K. Dick movie adaptation can't pique the curiosity of a hotel full of sci-fi fans, then I clearly have no concept of demographic-based music promotion.
Clearly, I have no concept of demographic-based music promotion. What else I found remarkable about this experience was how much I still wanted "the full show" from these guys regardless of how many people were or weren't hip enough to get that they were The Band to see at Con. My enjoyment of their act was not diminished by the fact that I wasn't surrounded by screaming fans, though I suspect the guys would have had more fun if the room had been full of attentive, Japanese Space Program-focused human bodies. In fact, I know the guys would have had more fun if the room had been full, because I've been there far more often than not these past few years, and the realization of this sparked an epiphany. Too often have I given a performance wherein I found myself apologizing--sometimes figuratively, sometimes literally--to the two or three people in the room for what I perceived as a clearly sub-entertaining performance, as evidenced by the fact that the room wasn't brimming with attentive, Griff Makes Music-focused human bodies. It's not entirely unreasonable to assume that what you're doing lacks appeal if few or no people come to see you doing it, but it's a sophistry to leap to that conclusion based solely on the size of your audience. And it's downright unforgivable to give anything less than "the full show" if the audience size doesn't meet your expectations or wishes. Clearly, the people who have come to see your act--and stay for your entire act--are Exactly the Right People to see your act, and they deserve "the full show," no apologies required.
OK, I'm gonna end this rant by saying that I'm ridiculously grateful to every single Usual Suspect that has supported me, my performances and my recordings over the past five or six years. If you've come to see me once, twice or twenty times since I got serious about playing music publicly, I thank you unequivocally. I'd like to play for more people more often. I'd like for lots more people to hear--and hopefully, purchase--my recordings. The key to meeting both of these wishes is to reach Exactly the Right People with the message about what it is I do. I know those people are out there. Some already come to my gigs. Most of them have never heard of me, but I bet you know some of them, and it would be just dandy if you'd help me spread the word. Send folks that you think would like my music to this blog, or to the Griff Makes Music page on Facebook, and let them know about my albums on iTunes, CD Baby and just about everywhere else on the IntraWeb. And while you're at it, tell them about The Japanese Space Program. Those guys are hot!
Item the First: The Prince's Masque: Royal Music for Romance and Revelry is now available on CD Baby and iTunes. Click on the album picture at the left to go to the CD Baby site or search for "The Prince's Masque" or Richard Griffith on iTunes (and check out some of my other stuff while you're there).
Item the Second: I can't access Spotify, cuz I'm in the US, but folks in Finland, the UK and several other European countries, principalities and the like can, and it appears that they've discovered my discography. I've seen a fair number of streams of both of my first lute albums and Take the Stairs which is amazingly gratifying. Spotify streams don't pay a lot, but I can't tell you how just how gigantically buzzed I am that people are listening. If you're one of them, give me a shout and say hello!
Item the Third: There will be no "First Friday at the Madhatter" performance in August, as I will be on a Secret Mission that night. Shhhh! It's a secret! Regular performances will resume in September.
Item the Fourth: The Twin Cities Lute Co-op is coming back. Stay tuned!!!
And finally...thanks to all of them what made the scene at my CD release party this past Saturday. The weather was weird, there were a lot of events going on in the Twin Cities...and still you came. Can't wait to do sumpin' like it again, and soon.
...and that's it fer now, cats and kittens. Until next time, play nice, eat right and don't be too hip for the room.
Be excellent to yourselves!!!
Rick
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