I’m dragging today, and am fighting my daily bout with the post-1pm lethargy (a good reason my friends call me “Pappy”) as Ben and I are up at the studio adding touches to “I Had To Tell You”. The A/C is on today, and we give thanks. I’m struggling to stay focused and to engage myself in the process of listening closely and contributing ideas. I’ve avoided the computer until now so as to force myself to actively participate. It’s not that I’m disinterested, but that these hot summer afternoons absolutely zap what little energy I already possess. Must. Keep. Eyes. Open.

Ben added a keys pad (i.e., a layering, bedrock, sonic glue) to the first verse of this song. Something resonant and binding has been missing here and we’re trying to uncover what it is by experimenting with sounds. Also, he and I have both realized that my lead vocal on this song is not very good. It is too dark, it tries way too hard (who me?), and is not at all that convincing. I will re-sing it. The more times I’ve listened to it today, the grumpier I’ve grown. Must re-do. Take that, communism. The pads Ben is adding is helping set the tone of the song a lot more than my stunningly smooth 12-string guitar playing could ever do.

Ben is overdubbing more hammer dulcimer over a piano part he played a few moments ago. We’re going for a Raggedy-Andy sort of sad to prop up the lyrics that include these lines:

I’ve had chains wrapped around me for the last seven years
I crowned myself Messiah since Messiah was not near
I shook my fist at heaven, I told God to go to hell
There was so much that I had to say, but had kept it to myself

These are potentially expensive words. I see how they could easily be misinterpreted or taken out of context without knowing the story’s backdrop. Hence, they may be expensive in that customers might want their money back after purchasing a “christian” album expressing such sentiments. I have no idea how the song will be received, as it is hopefully as honest in its narration as the true story on which it is based. The reality of humanity is that we owe to grace as great debtors. In our worst moments, we curse the blessing of our own skin, our own breathing in and out, the universe and Maker alike. In our best moments, we remain desperately in need of that which is beyond our frailty or capacity to bring anything good to the Mercy Table. I struggled for weeks, in the process of writing it, to allow the main character the red-blooded freedom to tell God, “I hated you that day.” That is not the sort of cheap, plastic, pre-fab line that floats easily upon the waters of this industry. I am trying to be as honest as I can, since I so personally and closely related to the story of my friend’s losing and losing, while in the midst of such tremendous anger, hostility towards God, loss of income and business, found himself spewing those very words with all the venom and bile his hard, tired heart could muster. And in the process, God still showed up with all the mercy and hope He ever possessed. And redemption occurs like fire through the open windows of a dry and brittle house. So it is with beggars and new beginnings. The story of any one of us is, in some measure, the story of us all.

These are the stories I hope to tell you.

Reviews of ROTB are drifting in, and the response is stellar (”out of this world” seems too obvious a pun). This particular book review, submitted by author and intelli-humorist, S.D. Smith, wonders aloud at the distinct possibility of a ROTB sequel. May it be so.

Maple Mountain Blog review of ROTB

It’s not too late to purchase your own copy. Quantities are quite limited. Available in the Goods section.

A mostly slow week for me on the album front, but we did manage to lure Aaron Sands over to The Beehive Friday afternoon to play French horn on three songs. Though I’ve heard Aaron’s name mentioned here and there over the years, I’ve never actually met him. As it turns out, we’re neighbors.

Sidebar: I have been wanting to find a place for French horn on one of my albums ever since I first heard Vigilantes of Love’s eclectic, and great, 1992 album, Killing Floor, on which it is a featured part on the song, “Eleanor.” My hopes for such a moment were never realized until yesterday, thanks to Ben and Aaron, who allowed me the opportunity to see if what my ear has been hearing - or wanting to hear - for months might actually transpire on tape. I hope so.

Ben has been working on prep-mixing the songs, a somewhat tedious process in which he tunes vocals, both lead and background, the various instrumentation in need of it, cleans up all the “punches” (where two or more recorded takes run awkwardly together), and gets a general mix going. This step allows the person mixing the album - in our case, Ben himself - to have a clean, prepped slate to work with to start making all the pieces work together. Mixing will involve weeding out parts, decluttering sections in a song so as not to be overly busy or crowded, and creating the sonic atmosphere in which the essentials of the song itself will rest.

We are estimating a mastering date - the final process before going to the duplication plant - sometime in mid-late June. I’m going to try and figure out a real, live, actual release date in the coming days. Targeting late July or early August. Here’s to good vibes, smooth mixing and a soon-to-be Chrome release date!

A couple of months ago, I was invited by Andrew Peterson to join he, Randall Goodgame and Ron Block (banjo player for Alison Krauss & Union Station) for a Rabbit Room-based interview with Anita Lustrea, host of Chicago-based Moody Radio’s Midday Connection. It was kind of Andrew to consider me worthy of invitation, and even though I’m rarely the most coherent person on earth, I was grateful to be allowed to give honest answers to Anita’s thoughtful questions. I just hope I communicated something of the Good, and didn’t completely blow the more subdued version of “You Can Be Yourself”. You can download the Midday Connection podcast. My part in the interview takes place at around the 31:00 mark. It was a tremendous honor to be a part of the show.

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This weekend I was in Champaign, IL, a place that felt like it should be dead-center in the middle of a pancake griddle. On one side of the interstate were rows of new construction homes, while on the other, ploughed fields reaching out to the horizon with deep, dark fingers. It was hard to believe that this state, as rural and authentic as it is, has (or apparently will have) both of its previous governors serving time in the clink. Those strange midwestern unvalues.

Friday’s show was hosted by some friends of mine who were having mercy upon me by putting the thing on in the first place. If you are on my mailing list, then you probably received my recent desperate plea for shows, what with the sour state of the overall economy. Stacy and Jose answered my beggary with an invitation to play in their town of Naperville, a western suburb of Chicago. Aside from my growing impatience with the 15-year old sound guy/boy who apparently knew exactly what I needed in my monitors, therefore disallowing any of my offered suggestions, it was a nice and pleasing show complete with a promise to read Beowulf this summer (that’s for you, Liz). Jose Rivera and Ben Thomas both played and stole the show. Hot wings and cold, frosty beverages followed.

Saturday was a two-hour trip through northern Illinois with Genevieve trying to guide me along routes I chose not to follow. Instead, I turned off the dreadful interstate and followed the Kankakee River’s edge for several miles to the town of Kankakee where I rejoined another north-south interstate to the city of Champaign. Along the two-lane river highway, I listened to my friend Andrew Osenga’s spectacular album, Photographs, in which he sings of that very waterway now positioned, snaking brown and fluid, along my left shoulder. I still love that album. You should, too.

An hour later, I arrived at my friend, Phil’s place, where he was finishing polishing his black Yamaha (before it got rained on), and two of his boys were shooting basketball in the driveway. We proceeded to play a quick game of Fog (not Pig) where I completely dominated the match. I believe my sky hook ultimately won it. Short people were born to be point guards, what can I say?

It was a bachelor pad weekend, since Phil’s wife (and amazing chef) Bethany was out of town. Saturday night we ate brats, drank Newcastle and watched 80’s freaky-strange film, “Big Trouble in Little China”, a movie I somehow never saw while growing up. Turns out, that was probably for the best. Someone please tell me the point of the greasy monster that appears in a grand total of three brief scenes? Also, were all 80’s movies over-acted?

Sunday morning I played a song at the morning services in hopes of luring folks out to the free concert that night. Though I didn’t completely scare everyone off, there were around 30-40 folks out on a damp, chilly night.  And they were a quiet crowd. That threw me off, and I got just plain weird as the night wore on. I had a great time, but I’m sure my oddities left a few folks scratching their midwestern heads. Folks were gracious in their giving, and since these were the first shows I did as part of my new “I’ll play for any amount, including free” proposal, I’d say it was well worth my time away from home. Faith sometimes feels like murder, but these days it is good to wither to self. Duly noted.

I want you to become acquainted with my Square Peg friends’ music. Here’s the track listing:
1. “The Space Between Living and Dying”, Jeremy Casella
2. “Bluebird”, Randall Goodgame
3. “That Guy”, Andy Gullahorn
4. “Swing Wide the Glimmering Gates”, Andrew Osenga
5. “You Can Be Yourself”, Eric Peters
6. “Lay Me Down”, Andrew Peterson
7. “Your Usual Response”, Jill Phillips
8. “4th of July”, Ben Shive
9. “This Too Shall Be Made Right”, Derek Webb

Residing in newborn-baby land for the past month, shy of any alertness or creativity, I am indeed still alive, though my communication has been equivalent to nil. This winter/spring calendar has hands-down been the bleakest I have ever known as far as getting and securing work/shows/income. In some ways for us, it’s not much different than any other month of any other year. We live in a recession each and every month, never really knowing where the next paycheck is going to come from. But church budgets are way down, and since that is where I play the vast majority of my shows, we have noticed a definite slowdown in our little cottage economy. Sweating bullets. But the flipside to all this is that I’ve been home a LOT to help (as much as a male possibly can) my wife in the transition from one to two kids. As a breadwinning male, I have found myself in the middle of a workweek playing with Ellis in the backyard sandbox or fixing peanut butter sandwiches fighting not only the noonday demon of acedia, but the very distinct and cruel head voice saying to me, “So here you are, you lazy sack. You can’t even provide for your family, you worthless loser of a phony artist.” Such are my days of late. Low self-esteem is a plague riddled with guilt.

Ben has been wrapping up a couple of other projects before we make the final push to finish my ghost of an album. I’ve officially titled the project, “Chrome“, which I will explain in a later post. The release date, obviously, won’t be anytime in March, and April is looking mighty doubtful. I’m still hopeful for a May release, but this train is, and has been, a slow one, so by now I should know better than to make any promises when it comes to these sort of things. What I can give you is a sneak peek at the album cover (or something close)….

The good folks at Under The Radar Radio are featuring my song, “Metropolis” (Scarce) this weekend. This seems appropriately coincidental since I drove past Metropolis, IL and its Superman water tower twice this week.

Under The Radar is a weekly 1-hour radio program in national syndication - highlighting some of the best undiscovered and under-appreciated music from Christian artists. “The best songs you’ve never heard.” Hosted by Dave Trout.