A songwriter friend of mine, Tim Riordan, once said if he writes a song about himself, he writes in the third person, and if he writes about someone else, he writes in the first person. I like that.
Check out Timmy's website, he's making a new record now.
-Rob
November 28, 2009
November 22, 2009
House Concerts
In the last few years a new player in the music biz has come on the scene. But it's not really part of the music biz. It's outside of the music biz, because it's not a business; it's not a music venue trying to make a profit. To call it an underground revolution taking place may be an exxageration, but maybe not. It's the house concert.
What's a house concert? Someone invites one of their favorite singer-songwriters to do a concert in their living room. They invite friends and the performer publicizes it, mostly via email and websites. You bring food or drink as in a potluck, and a donation is requested for the performer. The performer keeps 100% of the donations, and also can sell cd's. The host doesn't do it to make money, they host because they love the performer and want to turn other people on to them.
I love house concerts. Typically everyone comes an hour early and socializes, eats snacks and drinks. The performer is right there in front of you. Some house concerts are unamplified. It's like going to a party where someone breaks out an acoustic guitar. Except instead of someone singing "Margaritaville" out-of-tune, it's a professional singer-songwriter singing original songs.
It will be interesting to see how this "underground" trend develops.
-Rob
What's a house concert? Someone invites one of their favorite singer-songwriters to do a concert in their living room. They invite friends and the performer publicizes it, mostly via email and websites. You bring food or drink as in a potluck, and a donation is requested for the performer. The performer keeps 100% of the donations, and also can sell cd's. The host doesn't do it to make money, they host because they love the performer and want to turn other people on to them.
I love house concerts. Typically everyone comes an hour early and socializes, eats snacks and drinks. The performer is right there in front of you. Some house concerts are unamplified. It's like going to a party where someone breaks out an acoustic guitar. Except instead of someone singing "Margaritaville" out-of-tune, it's a professional singer-songwriter singing original songs.
It will be interesting to see how this "underground" trend develops.
-Rob
November 15, 2009
2am
It was snowing in Denver yesterday and today. It reminded me of a song I wrote in 2004. It was one of my first songs, and I made a conscious effort to use imagery, metaphor, and create a good melody-- things I had learned at my first Lyons, Colorado Song School in August 2004.
Some other songwriters that I showed it to had some criticism of the lyrics and music. So I tweaked it over the years, and just yesterday and today changed 4 lines. I haven't figured out a way to change the music, probably because I actually like the melody and chords. Demos of the music are at myspace.com/robroperdemos. Here's the lyrics as they stand now:
2 AM
© Rob Roper January 2005 revised Nov 14-15, 2009
2am on a winter night
Denver, Colorado
I put on my boots, and winter coat
And step out into the snow
The cars are all sleeping
under their blankets of white
And a snowflake kisses my face
As I stop and view the sight.
The snowflakes toy with gravity
As they dance in the streetlight
Refracted, soft and blurred
Like whiskey eyesight
And the multicolored houses
Are now nuanced shades of grey
Like a black and white photo
A winter painting by Monet
Chorus:
I've seen many of the wonders of this world
And I've known the touch of a beautiful girl
And I've seen the works of the great Van Gogh
Ah, but this is just as fine
Like a great bottle of wine
Standing in the middle, of the street
at 2 am, in the snow.
The snow plays a symphony
of silent eloquence
and I know that I am lucky
to be in the audience
It's 25 degrees out here
But I don't feel the cold
And though I'm standing by myself
I don't feel alone
(Chorus)
Bridge:
Now you might think I'm crazy
And maybe I am
But if you could only be here
I think you'd understand
(Instrumental Break/Solo)
(Chorus)
Some other songwriters that I showed it to had some criticism of the lyrics and music. So I tweaked it over the years, and just yesterday and today changed 4 lines. I haven't figured out a way to change the music, probably because I actually like the melody and chords. Demos of the music are at myspace.com/robroperdemos. Here's the lyrics as they stand now:
2 AM
© Rob Roper January 2005 revised Nov 14-15, 2009
2am on a winter night
Denver, Colorado
I put on my boots, and winter coat
And step out into the snow
The cars are all sleeping
under their blankets of white
And a snowflake kisses my face
As I stop and view the sight.
The snowflakes toy with gravity
As they dance in the streetlight
Refracted, soft and blurred
Like whiskey eyesight
And the multicolored houses
Are now nuanced shades of grey
Like a black and white photo
A winter painting by Monet
Chorus:
I've seen many of the wonders of this world
And I've known the touch of a beautiful girl
And I've seen the works of the great Van Gogh
Ah, but this is just as fine
Like a great bottle of wine
Standing in the middle, of the street
at 2 am, in the snow.
The snow plays a symphony
of silent eloquence
and I know that I am lucky
to be in the audience
It's 25 degrees out here
But I don't feel the cold
And though I'm standing by myself
I don't feel alone
(Chorus)
Bridge:
Now you might think I'm crazy
And maybe I am
But if you could only be here
I think you'd understand
(Instrumental Break/Solo)
(Chorus)
November 14, 2009
New song - The Voice of Doubt
This one started with a guitar riff in the DADGAD tuning, probably 2 years ago or more. Then January 2009 I started thinking of lyrics for it. It sat around until today when I assembled the lyrics into a first draft. You can hear a very rough demo, just me and guitar, recorded on a handheld digital recorder, at my myspace demo site. Here's the lyrics as of today.
-Rob
The Voice of Doubt
1st draft Nov 14, 2009
Why you wanna be all alone?
Can't you just do what you're told?
It don't matter if you're right
You will never change their minds
Can't you see the game is rigged?
And that you can never win?
And what makes you so sure you're right?
What if everything's a lie?
Just go along
Pretend it ain't wrong
Do what you're told
Let your heart grow cold
I'm just trying to help you, my friend
I hate to see you suffer like this
I hate to see you waste your life
You know we only go around one time
What's the point if you always lose?
You don't have to take the abuse
Why you wanna hang on that cross?
Who the hell do you think you are?
Just shut up
Don't speak up
A fool and his dreams
And you just want to scream
You think too much
and you read too much
A fool and his dreams
And you just want to scream
-Rob
The Voice of Doubt
1st draft Nov 14, 2009
Why you wanna be all alone?
Can't you just do what you're told?
It don't matter if you're right
You will never change their minds
Can't you see the game is rigged?
And that you can never win?
And what makes you so sure you're right?
What if everything's a lie?
Just go along
Pretend it ain't wrong
Do what you're told
Let your heart grow cold
I'm just trying to help you, my friend
I hate to see you suffer like this
I hate to see you waste your life
You know we only go around one time
What's the point if you always lose?
You don't have to take the abuse
Why you wanna hang on that cross?
Who the hell do you think you are?
Just shut up
Don't speak up
A fool and his dreams
And you just want to scream
You think too much
and you read too much
A fool and his dreams
And you just want to scream
September 12, 2009
The Hippy and the Businessman
This is from an email to my brother Greg. Greg is an English Professor at the University of Dallas.
Last fall and winter I felt that I advanced to a new level with my songwriting. I think I've started to figure things out. There's two stages that require different sides of the brain. The first stage, which should be probably at least 80% of your time, is the imaginitive, non-structured, creative stage, where you just go with whatever comes into your head. Then there's the editing stage where you use your craft to put some structure to it. My problem in the past was going to the second stage too early. The poor editor just didn't have enough material to work with. I had the percentages reversed. I only spent maybe 10-20% in the creative stage, then 80% in the editor stage.
I'm developing a metaphor for this. There's the hippy and the businessman. The hippy dances around barefoot with a gauze shirt and flowers in his hair, coming up with melodies, chords, rhythms and lyrics, which are all interesting but have no structure. The businessman looks at him with a combination of disgust but also jealousy, because he could never come up with such cool ideas. Then the hippy hands the businessman the stuff he comes up with and he sorts it out and gives it the structure that the hippy can't be bothered with.
The other thing I started doing last fall is, whenever "The Muse" sends me a line, and it sounds stupid and makes no sense, instead of throwing it out, now I say that line MUST stay in the song. I'll write around those lines. I may not know what they mean, but I now know those are the ones to keep. Whether they come from the deep subconscious, or God, or a god, or some spiritual blob in another universe, that can be argued interminably, but wherever the fuck they come from, they're staying. I may or may not figure out what they mean later. Or other people may figure out what they mean.
So last winter The Muse sent me these lines, and they became the titles to
songs:
"Falling into Heaven"
"Waiting on the Other Side of Nowhere"
For both, I've had people say, "that song really speaks to me". I chuckled to myself and wanted to say, "thanks but can you explain what it means, cuz I have no idea". Actually I did give them some meaning, the editor/businessman insisted and I couldn't shut him up. :)
-Rob
Last fall and winter I felt that I advanced to a new level with my songwriting. I think I've started to figure things out. There's two stages that require different sides of the brain. The first stage, which should be probably at least 80% of your time, is the imaginitive, non-structured, creative stage, where you just go with whatever comes into your head. Then there's the editing stage where you use your craft to put some structure to it. My problem in the past was going to the second stage too early. The poor editor just didn't have enough material to work with. I had the percentages reversed. I only spent maybe 10-20% in the creative stage, then 80% in the editor stage.
I'm developing a metaphor for this. There's the hippy and the businessman. The hippy dances around barefoot with a gauze shirt and flowers in his hair, coming up with melodies, chords, rhythms and lyrics, which are all interesting but have no structure. The businessman looks at him with a combination of disgust but also jealousy, because he could never come up with such cool ideas. Then the hippy hands the businessman the stuff he comes up with and he sorts it out and gives it the structure that the hippy can't be bothered with.
The other thing I started doing last fall is, whenever "The Muse" sends me a line, and it sounds stupid and makes no sense, instead of throwing it out, now I say that line MUST stay in the song. I'll write around those lines. I may not know what they mean, but I now know those are the ones to keep. Whether they come from the deep subconscious, or God, or a god, or some spiritual blob in another universe, that can be argued interminably, but wherever the fuck they come from, they're staying. I may or may not figure out what they mean later. Or other people may figure out what they mean.
So last winter The Muse sent me these lines, and they became the titles to
songs:
"Falling into Heaven"
"Waiting on the Other Side of Nowhere"
For both, I've had people say, "that song really speaks to me". I chuckled to myself and wanted to say, "thanks but can you explain what it means, cuz I have no idea". Actually I did give them some meaning, the editor/businessman insisted and I couldn't shut him up. :)
-Rob
September 9, 2009
The Open Mic Diva
She arrives at 7:00pm and signs up for the 9:00pm slot. Then she leaves.
She returns at 8:45 with her friend. At 9:00 she plays her three songs. Then she packs up her guitar and leaves.
She doesn't hear anyone else play, except the person who played just before her.
She doesn't meet or talk to anyone else there.
I guess the Open Mic Diva thinks that no one else playing could possibly be worth hearing, and definitely not becoming friends with.
Oh well, her loss.
-Rob
She returns at 8:45 with her friend. At 9:00 she plays her three songs. Then she packs up her guitar and leaves.
She doesn't hear anyone else play, except the person who played just before her.
She doesn't meet or talk to anyone else there.
I guess the Open Mic Diva thinks that no one else playing could possibly be worth hearing, and definitely not becoming friends with.
Oh well, her loss.
-Rob
July 24, 2009
Flower Killers and Poster Killers
I'm sad today.
I don't enjoy going around and putting up posters and flyers for gigs. I doubt if anyone does. I'd much rather be home creating new music, or practicing, or, for that matter, watching a movie or reading a book. But until you're big enough to hire your own publicity department or have a street team, you have to hit the streets yourself. Every band and singer-songwriter just starting out has to do it. So I'm not complaining. It's like cleaning the house, you don't like it but you have to do it.
This weekend is the Denver Post Underground Music Showcase. 200 bands playing various venues on S. Broadway in Denver. I have a gig the following weekend. So I figured that was the perfect place to advertise my show. Thousands of lovers of original independent music will be there.
A few months ago I paid a graphics artist to design to generic posters with a blank space where I can just fill in the specifics for each gig. So Wednesday night I got out my sharpies and made up several posters for my gig, then headed down to South Broadway and spent a couple hours putting them up in the showcase area.
Then Thursday night I went to down to the festival. However, I found that every single one of my posters had been torn down. Not a single one was up. They didn't even last 24 hours.
Who tore them down?
The event organizers? Were they paranoid that I was competing with them? If so, they didn't read the date on the poster. My gig is a week after the Showcase ends. And it seems laughable that they would feel threatened by little ol' me. Afterall, I'm not big enough for them to invite me to perform at the Showcase (and probably justifiably so)--at least this year. So surely they wouldn't they waste their time tearing down my posters. Would they?
Was it other bands or singer-songwriters? I hope not. Most of the folks I have met in the music community here have a cooperative and supportive attitude.
Was it the police? Perhaps there's an ordinance against putting posters on light poles? If so, boy, they sure acted quick. When I've called the police to complain about the lack of enforcement of dangerous drivers running red lights, I'm told they don't have the "resources" to enforce those laws. Perhaps posters on light poles is a higher law-enforcement priority than running red lights and other illegal activity that threatens public safety? I hope not.
Perhaps it was a random citizen who didn't like my poster? Perhaps they thought my ugly face was defacing the beautiful dark green metal light pole? Art, of course, is subjective.
Or perhaps it was just someone has a lot of rage inside them, for whatever reasons--justified or not--who took out their anger by ripping down my posters?
I paid Kinko's $1.50 each to print the posters that nobody will see. And I spent two hours of my life putting them up. So all that money and time is down the drain. But that's not what bothers me the most.
The day before, I noticed that a flower was missing from my flower bed along the front sidewalk. Someone had ripped it right out the ground, roots and all. It was the only one of its type. I planted it last summer. At the beginning of this summer, it didn't show much signs of life. I worried that it didn't survive the winter. But then it produced one beautiful, yellow flower. It survived! Now it's gone. What kind of person rips flowers up? Perhaps the same type of person who rips music posters down?
So I'm a little depressed today. I guess I'm overly sensitive. But it saddens me to know that there are people in the world who would rip a flower out of someone's flower bed. And it saddens me to know that there are people who would rip down a poster for a struggling independent musician just trying to reach a few people with his music.
-Rob
I don't enjoy going around and putting up posters and flyers for gigs. I doubt if anyone does. I'd much rather be home creating new music, or practicing, or, for that matter, watching a movie or reading a book. But until you're big enough to hire your own publicity department or have a street team, you have to hit the streets yourself. Every band and singer-songwriter just starting out has to do it. So I'm not complaining. It's like cleaning the house, you don't like it but you have to do it.
This weekend is the Denver Post Underground Music Showcase. 200 bands playing various venues on S. Broadway in Denver. I have a gig the following weekend. So I figured that was the perfect place to advertise my show. Thousands of lovers of original independent music will be there.
A few months ago I paid a graphics artist to design to generic posters with a blank space where I can just fill in the specifics for each gig. So Wednesday night I got out my sharpies and made up several posters for my gig, then headed down to South Broadway and spent a couple hours putting them up in the showcase area.
Then Thursday night I went to down to the festival. However, I found that every single one of my posters had been torn down. Not a single one was up. They didn't even last 24 hours.
Who tore them down?
The event organizers? Were they paranoid that I was competing with them? If so, they didn't read the date on the poster. My gig is a week after the Showcase ends. And it seems laughable that they would feel threatened by little ol' me. Afterall, I'm not big enough for them to invite me to perform at the Showcase (and probably justifiably so)--at least this year. So surely they wouldn't they waste their time tearing down my posters. Would they?
Was it other bands or singer-songwriters? I hope not. Most of the folks I have met in the music community here have a cooperative and supportive attitude.
Was it the police? Perhaps there's an ordinance against putting posters on light poles? If so, boy, they sure acted quick. When I've called the police to complain about the lack of enforcement of dangerous drivers running red lights, I'm told they don't have the "resources" to enforce those laws. Perhaps posters on light poles is a higher law-enforcement priority than running red lights and other illegal activity that threatens public safety? I hope not.
Perhaps it was a random citizen who didn't like my poster? Perhaps they thought my ugly face was defacing the beautiful dark green metal light pole? Art, of course, is subjective.
Or perhaps it was just someone has a lot of rage inside them, for whatever reasons--justified or not--who took out their anger by ripping down my posters?
I paid Kinko's $1.50 each to print the posters that nobody will see. And I spent two hours of my life putting them up. So all that money and time is down the drain. But that's not what bothers me the most.
The day before, I noticed that a flower was missing from my flower bed along the front sidewalk. Someone had ripped it right out the ground, roots and all. It was the only one of its type. I planted it last summer. At the beginning of this summer, it didn't show much signs of life. I worried that it didn't survive the winter. But then it produced one beautiful, yellow flower. It survived! Now it's gone. What kind of person rips flowers up? Perhaps the same type of person who rips music posters down?
So I'm a little depressed today. I guess I'm overly sensitive. But it saddens me to know that there are people in the world who would rip a flower out of someone's flower bed. And it saddens me to know that there are people who would rip down a poster for a struggling independent musician just trying to reach a few people with his music.
-Rob
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