How I wrote/recorded my album "Disposable" (2025)

The origins

Writing and recording this album took exactly 7 months and 5 days. Plus a week to finish mixing it before I sent it off for mastering. I guess it's worth noting I was working 30-50 hours a week (variably) during the entire production process, so this is an album I made in my "leisure-time."

The way I approached the songwriting was to parse through some half-completed ideas (just two or three barely completed melodies over some chords) I had saved from around two or three summers ago. These were ideas I abandoned before further developing but knew had some sort of potential. I started from there. I hadn't written anything with vocals since then, (I took a three year break) so I picked up where I had left off.

The Mosrite gospel copy guitar I used on the album

One of my missions for this album was to add more song-parts than previously. I think some of my previous EPs suffer from being a bit simplistic. The songs have like only two or three parts, whereas I've noticed a lot of popular rock songs will have maybe 6-10 song parts-- mini bridges, guitar solos, outros, little breaks in songs, etc. For this album I tried to add more variation. 

I completed seventeen demos total, and 12 songs made the final album.

I've been recording myself for almost twenty years, so I'm comfortable doing it by now. I've created a system where I can get ideas down fast and move from drums to guitar to bass, to vocals seamlessly. 

Using analog gear and keeping everything nearby is key. I can flip a few switches, pick up my guitar or sit down at the microphone and click "Record" and I'm tracking the album like it's nothing. Just like that. Everything (the gain levels, mic orientations, etc.) is already dialed into the analog mixer which just gets A/D converted via the interface. I never touch the mixer or the interface once I dial in the gain knobs, they just sit there. I only touch the mixer's ON/OFF switch. 

For guitar purposes, having a pedal-train is key, because I can tune up my guitar with my KORG pedal tuner and I'm tracking within seconds. What I'm trying to say is, I leave everything not only set up, but dialed the entire time I am tracking. Yes, for seven months straight. Another critical piece of gear in terms of this idea-- several 25 foot long "Pig Hog" XLR cables that allowed me to have a livable space (I recorded this album in my living room) as they essentially acted as one big snaked set of XLRs, along the wall of the room. That way I never had to step over any cables for seven months straight-- instead they are routed along the wall.

Notes on vocals and tracking

To jump right into tracking notes, a few songs required many repetitions. For example, the song "Lovebomb" was recorded in full five times in a row before I felt it was good. The vocals for "Turn the page" were redone several times (maybe about ten or twelve full takes) until I felt good about how I sounded.

The amp I used for guitar (absolutely cranked it this time around)

One fun fact is that I played the entire album on guitar and bass while standing up. I sat down for all the vocals-- a practice I quite enjoy. In the past I used to think you should stand up for vocals and probably it's best if you want to sing as best as possible to stand (because of air flow), however sitting provides a comfort level that makes for more natural vocal recordings for me. It's also worth mentioning I recorded the entire album without any monitoring system in place. 

I monitored my own vocals by artfully displacing the right earphone of my headphones (Sennheiser HD 280 Pro) while tracking vocals. I believe this process also contributes to some sort of mental magic when listening back and evaluating my own vocals. Because I haven't fully heard them (via monitoring) until they are recorded, once I listen to playback I have a certain percentage (say, 35%) of unknown vocal-delivery tone that I am able to evaluate further. It's a strategy to remove myself somewhat from becoming too familiar with my own voice while I'm tracking vocals. I focus less on the actual sound of my own voice and more on the feelings of how I'm singing that are inaudible. Over the course of the album there's only one track that I believe I could've done slightly better vocals on. 

Really the only mistake I noticed I made while tracking (and fixed many times) was singing a little too "hard" at times. I preferred to chill out a bit on the vocals and not try as hard. On one song I was super chilled out on the demo, and the final version I pushed my voice a little, which is sort of like emo-rock... but whatever.

How I make ideas

Early on in the writing/recording process, I felt like I had a lot of ideas and songwriting was effortless. I used a notebook to draft out ideas. As I started to write and record new songs I drafted out lengthy lists of song ideas (conceptual) that went to the 20+ range. I could draft an idea that would say something like, "Breeders Title TK guitar sound... Song about liquid metal/mercury, flow" and in my mind that would be enough of a starting point to create a snippet of music that would set the origin in place for the creation of at least an introductory melody over chords, maybe a drum part... and I could expand on that to create a tune. So I had a lot of ideas penned out like that and also names of B-sides I have recorded that I could've used as new material (although I never did this, and instead opted for writing everything from scratch).

I felt like everything was going well for the entire writing process, almost the entire duration. Only once did I make a time-wasting mistake and it was spending two weeks writing a song called "Pancake syrup" that conceptually held my interest, but once actualized didn't live up to my expectations.

More notes on engineering/creative process

Towards the end of writing and recording it's almost like I "blacked out." I just kept going without getting in my own head at all. I became very determined and serious once I had finished the twelve tracks to make sure I completed the album tracking correctly and make it as good as possible, but also making sure I was loose and carefree from a musical standpoint. This involved a significant amount of re-tracking songs once all twelve were written-- I'll elaborate more on this in a bit.

My pedalboard. The KORG tuner is my favorite.

I think a truth to music recording (and making art in general) is you have to balance between being natural, carefree and comfortable, effortless, really... but at the same time maintaining a very high level (systematic, almost) of focus and discipline-- if you can master and balance these two modes of thought, and also take a clear picture of what you're trying to do from your mind's eye into reality as cleanly as possible (while allowing for natural mistakes to occur) that's for the best. 

Personally, and I've said this before, if I'm tracking a song and there's some sort of small "mistake" on the recording, if it's something that's small enough, it's tolerable to me, insofar as... if I were to redo it, could I absolutely with full confidence do it better? If the answer is yes, I'll redo it. Many times, if it's a guitar take, the answer is yes-- I can replay stuff on guitar and almost always fix any errors because it's easy for me, but on vocals or drums it might be more subtle and if it's good enough, I just take it. Drums and the way I record mine (using only a few mics) heavily rely on dynamics-- if I hit a cymbal or snare an eighth of an inch differently it can change a lot from take to take. On one album cut I smashed my China cymbal in such a way that I wouldn't be able to re-create it in 100 tries if I had to. 

To me, there aren't any deal-breaker errors on the album from a technical standpoint. I spent extra time fixing every little thing, so that when I listen back in full nothing bothers me from the recorded audio. 

View of the drums, the orange music stand holds my reference sheets

I wonder about taking more time to write different bass lines that maybe hit on the root notes but also maybe walk along a bit more instead of being pinned to the guitar chords... but this can get tricky because I might inadvertently alter the harmonies in a negative way... so I normally don't do this. If I had to write entirely new, unique bass lines for every track I could potentially do it but I'm not sure how well and how long it would take. My approach would likely be to write melodies that matched the vocals but were variations on a theme (using a guitar, likely) and then use those as basslines. As much as I would like to do this, I evaluate the recordings on the spot for instantaneous feeling of yes or no and that's how I determine the songs are filled out enough. If I were to then spend extra time editing bass lines I'd be delaying the album's completion significantly while also messing with the fabric of the harmonies quite a bit and so it's a delicate task I often bypass when recording.

I did re-track some bass, though. For example, I knew I needed to play quarter notes on bass for 4-6 bars of a song instead of dotted half notes on a specific (unnamed) song. To fix it I re-tracked the entire song on bass again, two months after having originally recorded the song. I could've just left it but I knew I had to redo it because it would matter. When it came to this album I sorted through everything with a fine-toothed comb to make sure it lived up to my own quality standard.

How I tracked, then re-tracked

Believe it or not, as mentioned, I re-tracked a lot of the album. In fact, six songs (half the album) was re-recorded in three non-stop eight hour recording sessions by myself. I stayed up until two or three in the morning doing vocals on some songs, then clocked into work the next day at noon. Not bad. The next day, rinse and repeat. 

For example, In one seven hour session I fully re-tracked "I don't know," and "Ruin my life." A day later, I re-tracked "Seasonal" and "Day in the Life" in one night. And on the third day, "Fell into this world" and "Tomorrow is a new day" were re-tracked in a single night. This all happened without much thought about what I was doing, aside from mechanical considerations. I just knew it had to be done so I just did it without thinking. Like I said, I blacked out.

Some of the re-tracked songs I hadn't actually played since I wrote them (back in August or September 2024) so the sensation of re-learning them on guitar paired with the tactile feeling of smashing the drums (and using a new metal snare I had acquired) lent the performances to have more energy and excitement. I surprised myself on how enthusiastic the end results were compared to the demo versions. I had fun re-learning the parts too.

Two guitars and a bass.... in front of my kick drum

I mostly write using major barre chords (though I added a few different chords into the mix for this album), so it's easy to play the songs, but also, easy to remember how to play them. That's one reason I almost exclusively use major barre chords-- it stylistically helps my vocals sound more ambiguous (minor chords + my soft voice = a bit weak) and if I were to use complicated chords/riffs I may not be able to remember how to play the songs. Using the barre chords ensures I can play these songs for years to come without forgetting how to.

Example of the reference sheets I use to track drums

In terms of drums, I always use reference sheets I draw out myself using shapes for song parts (shaded rectangle = verse with vocals, triangle = chorus, circle = bridge, swirly design = post-chorus, etc). 

But anyway, to give an example of how my drum tracking goes... when I was re-tracking drums for "Tomorrow is a new day" I re-learned the song on drums over the course of maybe a half hour and within about another twenty minutes and had completed the recorded drum take. I used my system of reference sheets and my orange music stand to get it done.

I guess one key to the album was the pairing of my OCD distortion pedal with another guitar pedal I'm not sure I will reveal what it is... though it's not pictured above. But it adds that shoegaze sound you hear on the songs. I also used a DS-1 pedal and definitely figured out how to make it sound good, there's a specific setting you need to have it on. I also used an MXR multi-flanger and a electro-harmonix "Holy Grail" reverb pedal as well. I probably should've spent more time dialing in crazy guitar sounds and adding overdubs but I pretty much abide by the Steve Albini rule of evaluation where upon listening back, you ask yourself, "Are you instantly pleased by the sound you're hearing back?" If yes, then you're done. That's how I go about the recording process as a whole, really. 

I played a sonic blue Stratocaster that was custom built (lightweight) and a Mosrite gospel copy guitar on the album. Also my Spector bass (through the Radial DI) which is probably the most expensive instrument I own, believe it or not. Also I made sure everything had fresh batteries, including the pickups on my bass. I also made sure every guitar had new strings. I also spent one night doing a setup on my strat which involved carefully sanding down the nut and adjusting the intonation--something I tweaked over the course of about three days. One interesting note was I listened to the Russian Circles album "Blood Year" while setting up my guitar and I had a fun time that night.

When re-tracking I was really into playing the strat so I don't believe I re-tracked anything using the Mosrite copy, aside from some overdubs on "Seasonal" if I'm not mistaken. The sound of the Mosrite copy guitar can be heard on the song "Figure It Out" for sure, and its comparable to a Les Paul type of "chord-banging" sound, if you ask me. 

Don't get me wrong I play the Mosrite copy on half the album. It's more thick and chunky compared to the more spindly sounds of the strat. Put more simply, the strat has a different style of note articulation. For reference, the strat has Telnico V pickups and I recorded using all pickup configurations, occasionally using the rhythm pickup, as I found it gave me a pleasing sensation of fizzing soda (Mug root beer, anyone?) as I played it through the amp. 

For reference, again, my amp was absolutely cranked when recording, this time around. Not so cranked that it was at ear-bleeding levels, but way louder than it needed to be to be considered "loud" in the room I recorded in. Into a Shure PG56 mic that was 15 inches away, slightly off-center from the cone's center. Some guitar tracks were recorded through the same mic I used for vocals, which is a Nady SPC-15. At one point I'd actually move the mic from the guitar amp and reset it on the boom stand for vocals, but eventually I just plugged and unplugged the XLR cable to achieve this switch off and also swapped out the Nady (condenser) for the Shure (dynamic).

My Yamaha analog mixer, never touched it once dialed

I tried to be as disciplined as possible with the engineering this time around, in terms of keeping the mixer dialed, not tearing down gear, and tracking bass on every song. The only piece of "discipline" I left behind was the use of a pop filter. 

There's some philosophy to recording yourself, and not taking yourself too seriously is part of it. If I'm setting up the pop filter it seems like I might be "trying too hard," but my vocal takes are as casual and comfortable as possible, yet there are some "p" sound plosives I had to spend two mixing sessions fixing. This involved sorting through the mixes again and applying a 100db roll off EQ to every instance. There were 44 total instances. I wrote them all down in a notebook while evaluating the pops through my HiFI setup. I actually parsed through, listened back and evaluated all of the plosives against the time-coded notes twice-- once at night, and then again the next morning again after sleeping in.

When I was tracking I always used a foam covering for the microphone. I must add, I was aware of the p sounds while tracking after a while and did my best to avoid popping my ps into the mic as I sang on songs, for sure. So, I did my best with it, without ever busting out the pop filter. It wasn't too bad to sort through and fix... just a slight annoyance. I wanted to send the best possible mixes off for mastering so this was yet again a further step I took to ensure I was making the best album I could possibly make.

One key to the recording and mixing process is that I always kept the stereo drum bus at 0dB and mixed the bass, guitar and vocals from there, for every single song. Easy as pie.

Re-recording process

To re-iterate what I was talking about before, I had "finished" all the songs/demos, but then I kept recording. I only did that after I evaluated all of the songs while driving around late at night. Over the course of two days I knew I needed to re-record six songs off the album. Certain aspects of the original recordings were either flawed, or bothering me in the fact the snare sound wasn't as forceful as the steel snare.

As mentioned, I had recently acquired a steel snare drum that was adding a different sound to the songs, so it was used on all the re-recordings. In fact, it appears on eight of the twelve tracks. The four tracks it does not appear on provide a nice balance for the listener. I believe the steel snare (and how hard I was hitting it) could become a bit grating for the full album and possibly cause ear fatigue, so I'm happy some of the songs have my wooden snare on them, instead. It's certainly a warmer tonality.

One interesting part of the writing/recording process was how I wrote and recorded the final three songs on the album. I put all three songs to tape pretty easily, just off-the-cuff. I had the lyrics written out for two of the songs from months prior just waiting to be used over music. I spent a few weeks procrastinating on putting the words to music until one day I was finally ready.

Normally I work the other way (music first then words), but I'm comfortable doing either, really. Vocal melodies are somewhat independent of the actual written words (aside from engrained syllabic inflections), and many times you can sing certain words into a melody of choice. Though occasionally the lyrics won't actually work and will need to be rewritten if they were composed without music. In my experience, at least. I have written several notebooks full of lyrics that were actually unusable to reach this conclusion/hypothesis. It seems this time around I was inspired by words to create music that would be able to express the ideas the words conveyed. In previous music writing sessions I was much more focused on music first, so this was a nice change of pace, and probably the result of feeling more comfortable with my musical compositions forming as per my intentions. 

Where I sit and watch Star Trek on mute while listening back

I mixed those first two (of the final 3 tracks on the album) songs as best as possible right after writing/recording and then did not listen to them at all until all three were done. It was about a two-and-a-half-week period. This required discipline and the thinking is that once you listen back you're more apt to write something too similar to what you've just written (the melodies seep into your subconscious). I didn't listen back for that reason, to avoid repeating the song twice. When I finally did listen back it was a cool feeling because I didn't even remember the songs at all. 

I definitely felt I could have continued writing more shoegaze-type songs but then again, once I finished three (and rounded out an album of twelve songs) I quit while I was ahead. Similarly, I usually required a week off between writing songs for this album. At my best I believe I wrote about three songs (completely from nothing) in three weeks, which was definitely a speed record of mine.

There was something about this album's writing process that seemed like I was being guided along by what you might call a "Guardian Angel" or something. It's like every step of the way I knew what I needed to do and it was never a struggle to complete that task. 

In the past I've struggled to fill out an album, but this time around it's like it was pre-destined that this was going to happen, no matter what. It's hard to describe but it's like a hand was guiding me the entire time to complete the songs. Whenever I needed a specific instrumental or tool to aide in the recording/production process it was instantly at my fingertips. Whenever I thought about what to do next I felt at ease with the decision making process and just went for it. The recording process and writing process, especially towards the end of tracking was very seamless in that way. 

I must admit I practiced meditation for several months during the final stages of the writing process, though never focused on music during my meditations. I also took a lot of time off during the seven months wherein I didn't track any music or think about music whatsoever. At one point I was rendered unable to play guitar for a solid month due to an injury, and thankfully recovered. I watched the World Series during these times and researched saloon music. I stared at my keyboard and wanted badly to play it, but my body wouldn't allow for that. Eventually after a month off, I recovered.

Now what?

After completing my EP "Can't be Anyone but Myself" back in 2021 I continued to write and write and record more for a solid year afterwards, which ultimately led to the material getting worse and worse, in my opinion. All the best outtakes from that continued writing made my second EP "Mike's Garage" which is basically a bunch of B-sides. 

After I finished tracking for "Disposable" and filled out a thirty-minute album I was more cautious this time around to just stop. In fact, I might just stop entirely with singing over music. I may just pull a Billy Joel and claim, "I can't write songs anymore." Not because I can't technically, but because I'm pretty old and a 40 year old singing rock songs comes off a bit cheezy, doesn't it? Perhaps some more mellow, acoustic music is in the cards. I'm taking a considerable amount of time off, first, though. That's for sure. If you've followed along with me at all you'll know I've been changing my musical proclivities to Handel and Bach on synthesizers for the past few years and that's where I still aim to be, going forward. It's the most satisfying way for me to engage with music as of now.

With "Disposable" I finally indulged in something I've been avoiding for a decade which is writing what I call "chick songs." The meaning of that is up for you to decipher, but I definitely wrote a lot of them for this album. So it's probably best I step back for a while. The good news is I'm still juiced about playing vintage synthesizers and the music of composers like Bach, Handel and maybe even Rachmaninoff on those 80's synthesizers, and I will absolutely continue that project whole-heartedly. I'm also interested in saloon/ragtime music as well so my desire to improve as a keyboardist is still alive. And, if you think about it, if I wanted to play a concert I certainly have enough material to front a 3-piece. And no I'm not playing bass... I'm playing guitar and singing. Best believe that.

"Disposable" along with my EPs were all written with the idea of a 3-piece band, which is why I never go too crazy with overdubs or creating some sort of sonic collage that's impossible to recreate, although when I listen to a lot of studio albums (Smashing Pumpkins, anyone?) I hear a lot of overdubs and noises etc. added in, so I start to think aww sh*t, maybe I should've added more stuff in there for people to listen to. But strangely it seems I can listen back to these stripped down recordings and get something new from them each time, which is a good sign. It seems following the recording ethos of my most dissected album (as a fan) In Utero has reaped some sort of benefits. I've created something that to me sounds beautiful one day, and perhaps lackluster the next, and so on. At the least it's forced me to think, and hopefully the listener feels similarly. Moving along, back to some thoughts on the finished product.

My thoughts on the outcome

Overall I'm definitely happy I did so much re-recording on Disposable because it helped the album sound better and more polished. Plus, some of my writing process is to track while I write, so having the demos as reference for several months, then re-tracking them from memory provided final cuts with more energy and looseness. 

I literally could not sing "Day in the life" at first because it was too complicated (a lot of words), but when I re-tracked it I was able to just sing the song in one take because I had memorized it. The demo was sort of pieced together.

Similarly, some of my other demos sounded a little disjointed because I also wrote them as I tracked them. Some of the demos also contained literal flaws like playing the wrong notes on guitar. I lived with those flaws, as it was just a reference anyway, and became dangerously close to just "living with" those errors forever-- some of them almost made the final cut, until I told myself, no not this time and re-recorded everything that was flawed to the best of my ability. For example, the original versions of "I don't know" and "Ruin my life" while good, contained such flaws.

Big fan of the "partscaster" Stratocaster I used

Something I improved on for this recording process was the idea of focus. In the past I would've let issues from my personal life affect the result of the recordings, but not this time. But I can't tell you how to improve on this, other than with practice. I guess a good comparison is playing soccer. When you're on a soccer team and at practice at the field, you tend to "forget all the bullshit" and only focus on playing soccer. It's almost meditative in a sense. Same goes for skateboarding. 

At this point in time, same goes for me and music, but it wasn't always that way. Being a musician/artist requires "sensitivity" but sometimes you can start becoming paranoid and develop some sort of OCD level of sensitivity to where you can't perform unless you have some sort of perfect environment that becomes almost impossible to find in natural life. Writing and recording this album in isolation is a great pleasure and honor because it affords me the solace to operate at pretty much the highest level I possibly can. I tried my best to split the arrow of focus/discipline and artistic effort as best I could. You've gotta remember I'm also engineering myself here and evaluating everything myself. It's quite an undertaking to complete something like this without help from anyone whatsoever, completely by myself and in total silence from others. Not a single person was privy to my activities or heard any of the music as I recorded it, other than me. The first person to hear the album was of course the mastering engineer.

Philosophy behind self-recording

Taking yourself too seriously is an Achilles heel, so then how do you accomplish anything that projects balance, completion and professionalism in its presentation? Can you do this while also being "non-serious?" The answer to this hypothetical question requires going a further step beyond just having a quiet environment and it's something I've tried to conquer with my recording of "Disposable." After listening back to the album I'm left asking myself, "Could I have written even better music?" In my mind, the answer is yes, but in reality, the answer is just "maybe."

Music is more emotion-based than sports, so it's easy to let your creativity get stuffed up by outside influence. And if you've read this article you can tell I'm weary of naively forging ahead with unrealized delusions about my ability to pen more and more good songs as if it were just that easy. It might be, but I'm a little bit seasoned by now and sort of jaded when it comes to hitting a songwriting "hot streak" as it were. I'd rather stop and not press my luck. Once you've think you've got it figured out, you slowly realize you were wrong.

But in terms of letting outside influences affect or not affect me, over time I've become better at separating what I'm doing as a leisure activity (writing and recording music) from my personal life, to where I am no longer affected by what's happening outside of the music. 

If you were to be a fly on the wall I think it might shock you how I was able to write and record a lot of this stuff after dealing with specific situations outside of the music writing. Of course, music is somewhat like therapy and that element is critical to what I'm describing here. But in the past I would've let the outside influences hinder my progress and affect the final result, but this time around I was much more ruthless and very focused on completing the album, no matter what... The strange part is, I can't even tell you why. I didn't feel driven to finishing this album for any specific reason, other than just having fun, I guess? I can't even tell you why I recorded it other than I like music and wanted to create something I'd want to hear, I guess. I don't even know!! 

But as I was saying, when I was writing and recording I did it in a way where nothing else affected me, and I did not even consider that a possibility. Strange but true. I surprised myself when I listened back to some of it. Sort of wondering just how and why have I recorded this? I didn't think about anything, I just did it. There's something to be said for this type of meditative denial. Also bear in mind I wasn't supposed to be recording this album in the first place. I'm supposed to be playing Bach on my Korg DW-6000 synthesizer until I finish my 80's synth album. 

This wasn't supposed to happen, as I was in the process of self-denial in terms of recording songs. Until I started to see it come together and then I didn't stand in the way of the natural progression of events and how it all played out. In fact, quite the opposite as I've mentioned I felt someone else's hand was guiding me towards completion the whole time, with sort sort of mystical even magical timing. I always agreed with these messages from the universe (or whatever you want to call them) and let them help guide me towards completing this music.

Where's the album?

The album is done I am just working on the cover art. It will likely be available first on YouTube on Mike's Garage page, then on streaming services and (maybe?) available as a CD-R with a hand-painted jacket/sleeve. I haven't decided how to release the album quite yet. But when I do it'll be posted here too!! Until next time. - Mike

Armor for Sleep & Boys Night Out at Albany's Empire Live (concert review)

I first heard Armor for Sleep way back in 2002, as a freshman in high school. My cousin sent me the song "Wanderer's Guild" via AOL Instant Messenger's File Transfer option. I waited about two hours to finally hear the sweet sounds of Ben Jorgensen's wistful singing over the top of a style of music I hadn't really heard before. 

I never cared enough to see Armor for Sleep play live, but I kept listening to them after that fateful day in 2002. I always just relied on their recordings. In fact, from 2004 until 2009 Armor for Sleep were probably the most played band both on my stereo (in my childhood bedroom) and while I drove around my parent's car on long drives, with both buddies from high school and the strange and different women I met at parties and through LiveJournal. In fact my favorite female buddy (who will remain nameless) and I spent many hours on the road, driving aimlessly. We almost always had Armor for Sleep playing at some point during these car rides.

So I guess for nostalgic reasons I bought two tickets to see them play, about four months in advance of  the night of the show. Because I won't just take anyone to a concert, and certainly not this concert, I only asked one person. She said no in so many words, so it wasn't my lucky day. I was denied. But what better way to attend an emo show? 

Pretty much what the venue looks like, albeit darker inside

I walked into the upstairs room at Empire Live by myself, after procrastinating the drive over. When I entered I immediately felt awkward which I'm going to blame partially on the music of the first opener, "Hellogoodbye." They came off as a cross between an indie band and a jam band, the likes of which I'd never want to feel at such volumes. The sound of a similar (and more popular) group "Fun." makes my fucking skin crawl, quite honestly. It's a joke that Mark Hoppus recommended The Format album Dog Problems so heavily on his podcast back in 2006 when in fact it's utter poo-doo. Hellogoodbye sounded like Diet Fun. and I immediately felt out of place and strange as I sauntered in alone, amongst about 250 other people who were also dressed in mostly black.

The atmosphere at Empire Live was somewhat of a party type of scene. I found my way over to the bar, where it was basically empty, and stood there alone, awkwardly, for the entirety of Hellogoodbye's set. At one point I moved slightly and stood behind a more densely packed area of people, where I proceeded to act like a human spigot-- each new audience member funneled through me as I stepped aside and then back into my initial location, letting them in by moving out of the way, over and over again. Soon I returned to the bar for a drink. Some tap water. It tasted off but was still drinkable.

Back at my place at the bar, I listened to Hellogoodbye close with their "hit" song which, admittedly, I did recognize, even though I hadn't heard it in about 20 years. Someone nearby had said, "They only have one good song" about ten minutes prior to them actually playing it. The lead singer took off his shirt for the finale and his skinny torso and man-tits jiggled around as his above-the-ears black beanie and horn-rimmed glasses sweatily rocked over the crowd, who eagerly sang along. I stood by myself, cup of ice-water in hand, approximately 40 yards back, expressionless. I was more interested in looking at the people around me, in fact.

Who I saw were a lot of older people, about my age, looking beat up by life, but still good enough (upright and breathing) to make it into the venue to watch the show. 

The women took the evening as a makeshift fashion show, and each emo girl had on a different unique outfit. I hadn't seen a pair of faded cheetah-print pajama pants worn over ripped black jeans and blacked-out slip on shoes with a hoodie and two other jackets... and crazy eye makeup, in quite a while but... you love to see it. That was one of many. 

My personal favorite is the "snake bite" piercings that extend into the nose and forehead, maybe with some sort of angular bangs and a ponytail type of thing. Whatever it is, I'm down to check it out and I enjoyed this. 

One cliché I hadn't remembered until this fateful night was the preppy girl who is out of place at an event like this, yet still a fan of the music. So in a way, she's not out of place at all, really. I spotted at least one, with a puffy knock-off North Face vest over a grey hoodie and some LL Bean boots with Hollister jeans, her hair and makeup done totally conventionally.

On the flipside, the guys I saw all looked to be slightly overweight, with a beard, too-tight hoodie, hadn't slept in a while, probably with BO. Or, "I'm just here with my girlfriend" type of thing. I didn't see a ton of different looking people, per se. Everyone looked kind of tired. A lot of women. Armor for Sleep is kind of a chick band, after all, I guess.

Boys Night Out and the blinding lights above them

Once Boys Night Out starting playing, the whole night changed. Immediately I found myself looking at one of their guitarists, who stood on stage proudly wearing a white-denim Canadian tuxedo. If his outfit wasn't enough, his hairdo and mustache said even more. He looked like he knew how to pronounce several French words and would be able to order fish at a restaurant. His guitar tone squeaked out of the PA like a helium balloon letting air out, then stopped, with bizarre guitar phrases that made me smirk, then almost laugh. As Boys Night Out kept playing I felt I was listening to a version of Senses Fail, basically. It's like I had hit my head really hard against a locker in high school, perhaps, and woke up fluent in a different language, listening to a weird French-Canadian version of Senses Fail that made me laugh, but were just as heavy in a strange way, yet without much screaming.

Towards the end of Boys Night Out's set I found myself standing behind four guys that undoubtedly had met up at the show, around my age. The guy in front of me had on a leather jacket and studded belt was rocking out to the sweet sounds of their song, "Up With Me," off their 2007 album. Although these guys didn't know me we exchanged glances as I began to nod my head and slowly fist pump and shake my hips along to the music, as well. The band was cranked at loud volumes as the stage lights flashed. The vibes of the band had turned the night into a ticket worth buying. I stepped forward and stood next to these random dudes. With my newfound makeshift buddies beside me the band played their final songs. Looking back, as they closed their set, it had truly become Boys Night Out.

Very quickly afterwards, in all of ten minutes, Armor for Sleep took the stage. The sound system was then cranked to 11. As they began playing it was so loud I saw many people running from the stage like they were running away from a bomb going off. Myself included. I ran, I ran so far away... to the other side of the venue, where I stood next to who I believe must have been a merch girl. 

Armor for Sleep was absolutely cranked through the PA

Armor for Sleep played a familiar song at full volume as I looked at this merch girl. She turned and faced me not once, but twice. Then three times. Then four. Then, get this... five times. We started staring at each other, more or less. I found myself transfixed by her. I was in disbelief. She looked exactly like one of my female friends from the past, one I had taken long car rides with. I couldn't look away. But there was something slightly different about her. It just couldn't be who I thought it might be, could it? Just as I nearly started poking her in the arm and asking her what her name was, she walked away of her own volition and disappeared for the rest of the night. She was replaced by a beautiful blonde, who rocked out by herself while standing in place for every song. I did the same thing, myself. 

I did make eye contact with Ben Jorg during the show and he came off as extremely self-confident and powerful. As we locked eyes briefly I wondered why he'd choose to look at me, and looked away for a brief moment. He was dominating, in fact. I looked back and nodded to him in agreement with what he was doing on stage, before I immediately resumed my own genuine, albeit muted in-place dancing. 

Armor for Sleep was pretty good. Ben Jorgenson was relentless with his pace and energy for the duration of their performance. Their drummer whose name I believe is Nash Breen was right there with him. They had fill-in guys on bass and 2nd guitar, who did fine. They played a lot of obscure stuff, which was cool to hear. I was able to hear songs like "Very Invisible" and "Who's Gonna Lie to You," which I didn't think I'd be able to hear. They went with deep cuts and at least one or two went over my head, even as a long-time fan, which was cool and made the show more interesting. Their super loud volume only affirms any shoegaze labels they might've been brandished with over the course of their long existence.

At the end of the show, after the crowd dissipated, I found myself amongst five other people, at the barrier in front of the stage. When you listen to a band for 23 years and have nothing else going on, you tend to hang around after the show. The bassist came out and handed out guitar picks. The drummer chatted up some girls. I walked around a little, then drove home, my ears totally blown out by the bass-heavy live mix at the show. Overall, it was worth checking out. Until next time. - Mike

Korg DW-6000 battery replacement recap

The battery of my Korg DW-6000 kept failing to hold enough charge to remember the patches. Instead of continually reloading the patches every time they were forgotten, I finally ponied up and cracked it open to replace the original battery that was soldered to the board. I followed along with this invaluable tutorial video to help me in the process.

Once I cracked it open... Discovering the insides

You have to remove a ton of screws from the underside of the synth's housing to pry it open and once you do, there are about 8-9 different multi-pin-connected wires that must be disconnected to fully open it up. Thankfully they're labeled with numbers. You also need to disconnect the power cable housing which is held in by two screws. When you get it open it's easy to see a specific board has the battery (it also houses nearly all of those 8-9 wires connections from the top to the bottom of the synth). Luckily I was able to remove every screw with the same size screwdriver.

My work table. I did use some flux while cleaning the pins after I ripped them out.

The factory soldering job for the battery was fairly beaded and once I soaked up most of the solder I noticed the pins were bent to the board. I removed the solder using only a solder wick, and had my iron at 350 degrees for that. It wasn't that straightforward as the wick would get stuck to the board and then I had to also like rub it on the solder to really soak up every little piece. I noticed there was a lot of solder still stuck into the pin holes after the surface of the board and the connection elements were fairly clean.

I was able to soak up most of the solder and then I straightened the pins with a razor blade. Still... the old battery was really in there, I'm guessing because of solder that I wasn't able to soak up with the wick that was inside of the pin holes. I didn't see any corrosion. In retrospect I could've probably added some solder as I tried to wiggle it free, but instead I just kept at it with the wick, and also heating up tiny little spots of solder and trying to loosen the original battery's pins.

You can see here the aftermath of ripping out the old battery

Eventually I was able to loosen up the pins by heating the old pins (I bumped up the heat to 400 degrees at one point) and then sort of wedging the battery back and forth like I was pulling teeth, and I was able to remove 2/3 easily. The last pin caused problems and I broke that pin off inside the hole, with only a little bit remaining in there from one side, though a sizeable piece off the top of the board. Luckily it was one of the spare positive (+) connections so it was irrelevant.  

I only needed two of three to connect the new battery. For good measure I used some pliers to pull the final third pin "scrap" up in an attempt to remove it. I made sure to heat up the solder that was stuck in the pin hole as I removed that scrap and it was successful. I kept holding up the board to a light to see if I could see through the pin holes, and I could for 1/3.

2/3 pins to connect the new battery wires

When I connected the new battery wires I applied some flux to the tip of the soldering iron and pressed it into the pin holes for 3-4 seconds, then pushed the wires in. They didn't go fully in at first, but only partly. Then I repeated this process again with some added solder from the other side and only then was I was able to push the wires (for the new battery) more fully into the pin holes, which was good. They more snugly went in and sort of melted into place perfectly. I secured them in there nicely and was happy they weren't just hanging by a thread, or anything.

The battery replacement manufacturer sent me the wrong velcro (two fuzzy sides, no rough side), but luckily I had some rough-sided velcro handy (from my pedal-train) and used that to stick the battery onto the surface of the interior of the synth. I used a damp paper towel to clean the inside before I applied the velcro.

From there I reconnected every single wire (I believe 8-9 of them) with the lid partially shut using a tiny flashlight I propped up. This part wasn't that easy because the synth's housing is made of thick metal so it really weighed down on my fingers and arms as I kept the thing partially propped open. Then I screwed in all the screws and... moment of truth. I plugged it in, reprogrammed the patches and boom, it works again. Magic, really. - Mike.

Btw the total cost was $15.99 for the soldering kit, and $8.95 for the replacement battery.

Book review: Catcher In The Rye by J.D. Salinger

J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in The Rye is a war novel, much like Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five, hidden beneath a classic coming of age story.

Most readers, myself included, initially consume the book as a teen and are able to relate to the protagonists sharp views on the world around him and feel the catharsis along with him as the novel climaxes then abruptly ends.

However, bearing in mind J.D. Salinger's WWII experience as an infantryman who carried and worked on pages of the novel with him in foxholes, and used his multilingual skills as a CIC Nazi spy interrogation specialist, who was supposedly involved with Project Artichoke, we can make further sense of the book.

The novel is an extended interrogation exercise-- via a cadenced, hypnotic conversation between the narrator, his psychoanalyst and the reader, and is filled with neuro-linguistic passages. A carefully crafted buildup of specific phrases and what appear as trigger words shock the system into momentary altered consciousness, as mentioned, at the climax of the book. Some readers have reported feeling weakened and melancholic for days following completion of the text.

This architectural underpinning is designed to force a confession out of the subject, who, due to the literary style, is both the narrator and reader-- Salinger draws you deeply into the thoughts of his narrator as if to merge your own inner voice with theirs. Several affirmations are also mixed into the text for stylistic effect, though this only aids in blurring the lines between literary art and outright CIA-level, military grade questioning.

Notice the books protagonist is staunchly negative for nearly the entire text in various ways. Then as he gets closer and closer to suicide or death, the author very suddenly introduces a third voice into the text and cranks the intensity knob to ten, all the while maintaining his hypnotic cadence, then, finally, everything flips... from negative to positive and we experience baptismal rains as they soak our narrator's symbolic hunters hat.

Then, suddenly, the book ends. And why shouldn't it? Salinger has gotten what he needs from us.

The hypnotic effects of the text are not to be understated, but moreso, the conclusion of the book forces the reader, much like the narrator, to self reflect. As it turns out, some readers are ill-equipped to face the music-- several famous assassins have cited the text as a catalytic ingredient to their madness. 

As teens we are able to understand the plot on the surface-- a prep school teen is forced to reckon with the fact he must grow up and leave his childhood in the past.

As an adult we more closely notice details like implied sex abuse and the harshness of the narrators confessions which include disturbing themes of societal alienation, suicidal ideation, religious blasphemy, alcoholism and an overall mental unwellness. The narrator's perceptiveness goes well beneath the surface, where the author has woven in dense subtext.

As a discerning reader we can draw the conclusion the text is coded with Salinger's military disillusionment over the course of his WWII experiences. With D.B. (Department of Defense) "out west" ... "writing movies," and "being a prostitute," the "phony" military brass "adults" (and the events of the war) have pushed Salinger's narrator, despite his unwavering faith in the purity of his dead brother, "Allie", to the brink of a mental breakdown which is described and confronted throughout the text, and ultimately accepted only through a loss of innocence, the narrator's melancholic carousel realization a christening of his rank as a member of the military. 

Of course, Salinger himself both escapes and shares the effects of his WWII experiences and subsequent PTSD--He checked into a hospital with "battle fatigue" after the surrender of Germany in 1945-- through his own will to live-- as reflected through self-belief in his own literary gifts. His decision to publish, sell millions, then drop out of society is the ultimate proof. He escaped the nightmares of war through writing.

Classic VHS Review: Interview with a Vampire

I first heard about this movie when Richard Christy (Howard Stern) talked about it on the radio and how he had a "moment" with another guy after they saw it in theatres, back when it came out. Pretty good radio segment. Later on a coworker recommended it so I finally took the bait and bought a copy on VHS off eBay. This genre isn't something I normally watch at all, so it took a while for me to even start paying attention when it came on. 

I have a low attention span for movies that aren't comedy but this wasn't too much of a slog. I feel it ended at the appropriate time, it didn't drag. Well, anyway, here are my official thoughts. I've kept them written on a slice of receipt paper for the past year. Yesterday I found the piece of paper in my wallet and decided to type it up. Here goes...

This movie is full of Hollywood beefcakes parading around in women's glam makeup. It stars Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise, and Antonio Banderas.

The plot is pretty convoluted but followable, I guess. After I watched it, I read the Wikipedia page plot and it matched up, almost exactly, with what I saw. It's kind of tough to figure out who is turning who into a vampire.

The best part, or, my favorite part was when Brad Pitt burns down a cathedral full of theatre vampires and slices this douche vampire in half with a long scythe. 

The part of the movie that kind of lacked for me was the hero arc. At first, Pitt doesn't want to kill humans. But he does, twice... so this kind of cancels out any empathy I might have for his constant "whining" as his vamp mentor calls it.  - Mike

Origami Angel at Empire Live in Albany NY (w/Equipment and Magazine Beach) Show review

Admittedly I was pretty excited to go see Origami Angel last night. Two weeks ago I dialed my car's radio signal to WRPI Troy 91.5 on a drive home from work. The DJ was amidst an easy-core playlist and I liked what I heard. I stayed tuned until he name-checked "Gami" (as they call themselves) and let his audience know of his own personal excitement for their upcoming concert in Albany. I had never heard of them or listened to any of their music before.

That same day I found a full album stream of "Somewhere City" on YouTube and discovered how it is one of the best emo albums ever made. For the two weeks leading up to their concert I listened to it on repeat and also familiarized myself with their 20-song follow-up album "Gami Gang."

As the night of the concert approached I mentioned to my band-mate from 20 years ago I was going to see an emo band. We're both in our mid-30s at this point. He told me the last time he went to a concert he "felt old." I hadn't seen live music since my trip to Nashville back in 2020 but after playing in different bands and frequenting local music shows for years I'm usually "big chilling" as they say, when it comes to a live music show at least.

I have a strange knack for being able to predict the future and I knew I'd run into the lead singer of this band before the show somehow. Still, I forgot to give him a copy of my CD because I left it at home that morning by accident. As I walked randomly down the sidewalk in Downtown Albany I was by myself and I saw this guy walking towards me. It was just him and me walking past one another on a giant empty sidewalk. This guy looks like Captain Jack Sparrow meets the guy from the Pringles can. I could tell it was him immediately. Having spent the last decade in customer service interaction type of work I have developed the ability to talk to anyone, anywhere, without hesitation. When I recognized it was him, I immediately called him out right there on the street.

"Hey you're that guy!! The guitarist of the band Origami Angel," I said enthusiastically.

"Yeah," he nodded and smiled and attempted to keep it moving at all costs, but I wasn't done.

"I heard about your band on the radio last week. That's how I found out about you," I said in an attempt to start a conversation to kind of test out how willing this guy was to talk. Turns out he really wasn't.    

 

"That's sick!!!" he said with a big smile as he looked at me and walked away briskly back towards the venue giving zero fucks about what else I might have to say.

It could have gone much, much worse but I held this interaction in my back pocket as I entered the venue and assessed the scene. Empire Live is a fairly new establishment and the show took place in Empire Underground which is a basement venue down around the corner from the main event space.

 

Strangely I felt I had spent time at this place before, though I can't definitively say I had until last night. I seem to think I've had a dream that took place at this venue. I can't remember exactly what happened inside the dream, as it occurred a while ago.

As I got to the front door I looked at a giant bouncer and waited for him to say something. He exploded with, "ID" and might as well have added in a "Muthafuckahh!!" for good measure. Of course being the complete savage that I am, I could care less and obliged him. 

 

The guy checking tickets five feet further into the venue was also a tough guy. As I informed him I was about to show him my ticket, he hit me with big "Duh" energy, though it was totally unwarranted as I wasn't lost at what to do whatsoever. Again he didn't realize who he was dealing with. I tried to calm him down with some small talk and let him know the door price of $30 was quite high considering this was essentially a glorified DIY show. He agreed it was too high and lightened up a bit. He wasn't so bad after all. He was really a big teddy bear.

Once inside the venue I started to realize what my former band-mate meant when he said he felt old. Before I get into that, some details on the environment.

The venue itself is just a giant square box inside a concrete basement. All the walls and the ceiling and floor are painted black. There's a small bar, restrooms and a merch section. It's very bare bones. There aren't even custom light fixtures or LED screens anywhere. There is absolutely zero character to the place.

 

There were about 150-200 people there already when I arrived 45 minutes after the doors opened. For the record, once "Gami" hit the stage I estimate the crowd at around 350 to 500 people. So if we land on 400 at 30 bucks a head that's a whopping 12 Grand in ticket sales. What percentage did the bands take home? I think 50% is the standard, so that leaves the three bands with 6 grand to split up. They probably paid a percentage out to their booking company, so let's say 5k is left. If I Was in "Gami" I'd say every other band is getting transportation and food allowance but no further. 90 bucks a head times the ten other musicians that's about a grand down. So the two "Gami" guys are splitting 4-grand between themselves and their engineer. That's about $1500 each. So if the tour is 30 dates they'll take home about 30k after taxes. More than minimum wage but not by much. Add in merch and they could be hitting a way higher number. Surely not lucrative but miles beyond what most bands will ever attain. But enough about the money breakdown...

As I looked around I noticed almost everyone was in their early twenties or perhaps late teens. Instantly I felt like an imposter. An old guy trying to disguise himself as a hip young kid. I started to sweat underneath the thick cotton fabric of my Thinsulate beanie (I wear it for personal warmth reasons). I resigned myself to a back corner where no one could see me as I stood there, partially embarrassed as I came to terms with my decision to attend this event. 

 

Ten years makes a whopping difference in your perspective and I found myself thinking about how my at-home rock-star fantasies are often misguided, in a sense. Almost stupid, really. But, somewhere in the past, I realized I needed to pick one singular hobby and I just chose music. It is what it is. 

 

As I imagined myself on stage playing my own songs I figured it would be an entirely different sort of thing, I guess. For one my arthritis would limit me from moving around very much. My songs are also composed differently, I have to wonder... through live instruments and a PA in front of a crowd it would be a whole different type of ball-game. Anyway, even if I still wanted to be a rock-star, I've aged out of touring, that's for sure. My body would break down within days. I guess I've lived my fantasy enough as you can read in my old posts from over a decade ago, but the truth is, as far as I got and the amount of years I put in... It's not even close to enough. It never is. So instead I just listen to music at home and write X-treme blog posts and review music constantly to fill that void, I guess. I still write music too, but I haven't written much in years. 

 

I must say, the transition to becoming more of a fan than an artist/participant is interesting. I never thought I'd care about what type of cocoa butter Mike Portnoy used on his elbows back in 1985 that is no longer available through any websites other than eBay, but now I'm sort of that guy. Back to the show, though.

Despite feeling awkward for being older than almost everyone there I think a lot of it had to do with the fact it was an emo show and I'm decidedly too old for the genre (I used to be involved in a local DIY scene during the end of what I'm calling the first wave which would be like 1998-2006), and have been since inactive since it went out of vogue back in 2009 or so. It's funny how something goes from cool to uncool and back again. At the time when it becomes uncool it almost seems like it will NEVER make a comeback, but then, it does. Everything goes in waves. 

 

Within five minutes or so, I found a standing place directly in front of the sound board on a small plastic mat alongside three other concert goers. Luckily the three people I watched the entire show with were friendly and chill. I had a decent view but despite being 6'2 I still couldn't really see that well. At one point a girl stood in front of me and filmed on her iPhone which directly blocked my view. But I wasn't annoyed or anything. It didn't matter that much to me.

The opening bands were what you'd expect. I guess the second opener was sort of like a less-melodic Armor for Sleep but with a heavier, clanky edge to them. They had a bit of a dark sound, I thought, for emo. Some of the songs were put together like the more complex Jimmy Eat World stuff too. Just for kicks, I'd compare some Equipment songs to one of the closing tracks off the Jimmy Eat World album "Chase This Light," I think it's called "Dizzy."

 

 

None of the bands that played, including "Gami" had much of an image which I found disconcerting in a sense. They all seem to be wearing like sweatpants a hoodie and a t-shirt. There wasn't enough effort in the clothing if you ask me. If you're in an emo band you must have jet black bangs skinny jeans and a sweater or small T-shirt on. One guy had black fingernail paint. Not enough. Then again, I've always found the glam iteration of various genres more interesting than whatever this was. I guess soft rock is a different thing. I found some of the trends and what was deemed acceptable or cool as not in-line with what it was for me, at that age. But things change and it's really all about the music, at the end of the day. Certain trends become more accessible and also more accepted. Seems like a lot of girls have septum rings now whereas back in 2004 it was less popular. I didn't see anyone with ridiculous emo hair, or any flagrant mall goth people. I guess those trends died out a long time ago. The style of the concert-goers seemed to be kinda watered down. I've noticed a lot of like 90s nostalgia grunge style is way back in style and remains popular. No one was in crunk-core attire or anything.

One negative aspect of this show was the fact I couldn't hear anything because whoever was running the boards was just putting the bass frequency knobs for every single channel all at probably 50 to 60/100. It wasn't working for me at all. It was all just muddy and washed out tones. I couldn't even differentiate the various instruments. The vocals were coming through really clear but everything else was just random bass frequencies which was disappointing considering the high ticket cost.

I'm not too bothered when the kick drum at a live show really thwacks (unless it's way over the top) but that same EQ was applied to every single instrument so the snare drum was also extremely thick, rich and warm but the problem is that when every single piece of the mix is fully warm like that... it washes out the overall sound. It's kind of like EQ 101, but whoever was running the board was dead set on applying this sound to every band. No idea why. In fact, "Gami" had their own sound engineer and halfway through their set the in-house guy manned a different soundboard (Why? I'll never know) and seem to again push his agenda of bass-boosting everything to hell. He kind of sabotaged gummy. It kind of sucked because beforehand their own engineer had stuff more correctly dialed in.

Speaking of him let's discuss what actually went down and how a two-piece sounds so full. From what I could tell their engineer had a direct mic to both guys wearing an in-ear he was also tap-tempo aligning pre-determined audio that would play along to them at various sequences of songs exactly like a DJ. The bits are queued up and then he'd hit "Go!" at the proper time and it would play on beat, as per the tap-tempo he had established. Not too complicated. Instead of a bass player the guitarist has some setup where his guitar outputs the lowest 2-3 strings into a wired device between the pickups and the output jack that down-tunes the signal to a bass-guitar-octaved pitch. This signal change is also outputted separately (there are two output jacks on his guitar?) into a separate bass amp. If you really want to nerd out, you could speculate the bass amp is faced at a 90 degree angle from the guitar amp to avoid feedback. Or perhaps it has to do with providing his drummer with some monitoring. Sort of like a simulator for a rhythm section as well as a way to fatten up the live sound.

 

Overall, this guitar setup sounded kind of bad to me. Kinda wonky. There was some crazy feedback at some point because of the guitar behaving oddly, but instead of the invigorating, hair-raising excellence that guitar feedback can be... it was more of a frumpy, dissonant fart tone that just petered out randomly, while of course sounding ever-so-lush through the expensive PA at the venue.

So, really, it was hard to come to much of a conclusion on the sound of Origami Angel because the mix wasn't good. For instance the bassist of the second band was using a pick and I could clearly see what she was picking but I heard almost no bass notes. I just heard a washed out bass frequency overall coming from every single instrument on stage. It wasn't good. Whoever is running the boards at Empire Underground needs to roll down the bass frequency on about 50 to 60% of the mix so the audience can actually hear the guitars. There's got to be more separation between the instruments. It wasn't the worst mix I've ever heard but it wasn't what it could've been. They also may need to invest in more audience-facing PA speakers to help the EQ. Or at least establish a better mid-range.

Once the openers were finished we saw Origami Angel load their stuff. It was a budget operation and the two band-mates put their setup together by themselves along with their engineer buddy. I was slightly surprised by this, considering there were about 500 people there, but I guess that's just how they do it.

The drummer was playing a very small and I'm assuming very expensive perhaps Ludwig(?) vintage drum kit in a beautiful baby blue finish. I didn't see any guitar amp I only saw what looked like a beginner's Ampeg bass combo amp that I'm guessing runs the split signal through it. The guitarist played a strat that had an LED light on the pick guard. I'm guessing that had to do with the split signal and the pickups down-tuning specific strings. What would be crazy would be if the tap-tempo manipulation was also being sent to a wireless box (queued up by the LED light flickering to give the engineer a visual cue) and altering the bass note syncopation through that little Ampeg amp, but that seems a bit lofty. 

   

Their engineer had a laptop and I was curious if he was recording the soundboard audio to his computer. He really should be. He should probably have some sort of MOTU that takes the board into a stereo IO interface that's plugged into his laptop just to get some rough audio every night in order to sync it with fan videos, or have someone else taking video of every set. His laptop would need some good RAM to make sure it didn't fail and ruin any sound being piped through the soundboard/mixer, but I imagine 16GB would do the trick. Anyways, they set up their gear on stage fast enough then left into the backstage area for about 5-10 minutes.

Before they re-entered the stage area the PA played some hip-hop spoken word/rap hype-up track to the waiting crowd. That audio gave a gist of, "We knew what had to be done, so we did it to get where we are today." It was a message that they put in a lot of work and practice to become what they are. That's what I got from it, at least.

If I were them I probably would've just started playing once the gear was setup, but I guess because of the big crowd they wanted to create some more suspense. This whole mashup of hip-hop audio and emo is nothing new. Oh, side note, someone... (the house engineer perhaps?) started playing Q and Not U's best song off their album "No Kill No Beep Beep," I guess as an homage to the fact Origami Angel is also from Washington D.C. It was noted.

Once they walked out, they opened up with something off "Somewhere City" and although I wasn't impressed with anyone's choice of stage attire leading up to them hitting the stage, the lead singer of Gami did brandish some sort of multicolored Umbro Jersey that was what the kids call, "drip." I still disagree with his man-bun though. 

 

I mean this in all seriousness when they first ripped through about three songs, this guy, to me is like "emo Kurt Cobain." The way he was playing guitar and singing right at the front of the stage was very Kurt Cobain-esque. As the guy next to me was filming on his phone I immediately saw the similarities through his phone screen. I can see 20 years from now the soundboard audio being synced to audience videos, just like you see for Nirvana bootlegs nowadays.

 

Now, that comparison could be misconstrued or even taken the wrong way. Sort of like, "Dad!! You're embarrassing me!" but I do mean what I've said here. This band and the songwriter created one of the best albums of the genre with "Somewhere City." I'm not even a big emo fan (though I'm a historian of the genre, in a sense) and I can confidently say it wrecks like 95% of what came before it, other than perhaps Saves the Day, and some Two Tongues stuff I guess. There are tons of albums so I'd have to go through and really compare. Drive Like Jehu, all that stuff. There's a lot to evaluate but it's definitely, for me, on the list of greatest emo albums ever, as I said in the beginning of this article.

 

Anyway, the lead singer doesn't lean into his whole "rockstar" status (or image) too much... but for me, the whole "emo Kurt Cobain" thing is kind of what I see going on here. Perhaps the only real missing ingredient is some slightly more mature, thought-provoking lyrical content. But the music is already perfect. 

 

A lot of the fans of this group seem to be younger people, and it's justified with some of their teeny-bopper lyrics about inconsequential stuff like video-games and sneakers. But on crowd reaction alone I haven't seen an emo band come close to this in quite a while. There's obviously something there.

Side note, I think the singer could loosen up some of the lyrics too, and perhaps change words during the live shows to mess around and improvise a bit. Maybe, "I'm the king and you're the czar" could become, "You're the king and I'm bizarre." Stuff like that. I only mention it because I believe he substituted "Secret" for "Adidas" at some point, and I preferred the former. He could really start messing around with some of the lyrics even more, in my opinion.

 

To loop back around on the lack of a third member... With Origami Angel, I firmly believe the absence of a bass player is pudding where you might find proof of mass appeal. What I mean by that is... sure, this group is relatively unknown and not mega star status. I believe if they added a bass player that complimented their style perfectly... they'd have the potential to play to massive crowds and go down as some of the "best to ever do it." I could see them having shirts in Walmart and becoming a household name, for sure. The band name is decent. Not great, but not awful.

They are being smart and taking all the money they can by keeping it a two-piece. They're also maintaining control. But notice, they're using a third member (in the engineer) who is piping in audio during the concerts. If they hired a bass player, his or her contribution to opening up the sound would be game-changing and... because the lead singer wrote everything already, he'd retain control over writing responsibilities. The crowd at this show last night was excited, but with a bass player I believe we could see absolute mayhem. Not to mention they are held back by bass notes being pinned to the guitar chords. It's compensated for in terms of the songwriting, but still, there's potential for musical expansion that's being overlooked. It's pretty easy to wrap your head around if you think about it. It would also take pressure off the front-man.

 

Adding the right bass player would open up more room for everyone to shine, despite what the singer or drummer might think, that's the truth. A lot of guys in the music scene who are this talented (not all of them, but about 50%) are also extremely unwilling to compromise, sometimes in ways that end up hurting their potential. It's the classic rock star ego and it's alive and well, and I'm not sure of their exact reasons for forgoing a bass player are... but if they figured it out they could become even bigger (if that's what they want). If not, they can still rest assured they're one of the best emo bands of all time, if you ask me. But it's funny too, because I've seen bands that were almost identical to them, about 10-15 years ago just playing DIY shows, so there's a fine line with what's going on here. A lot of emo bands never got any shine who were comparable in terms of sound/quality. I do think this band is still a cut above, though.

 

As they started playing some B-sides they lost the crowd a little bit. Every time they went into a song from "Somewhere City" the crowd went off.

I was happy to see they played the song, "Caught In A Moment," and I was paying attention to the drummer to see if he matched his recorded drum track whilst performing the song live. On the "Gami Gang" album he plays the same fill twice towards the end of the song. The second time around he applies slight variation: the first iteration's kick drum punctuation is replaced with flams the second time around... He played the entire sequence just like on the album.

The drummer is totally laser-focused and locked-in at all times. He doesn't miss a beat. His stick work is pretty good. I noticed he wasn't forcing notes but relying on the natural bounce-back (i.e. rebound) from the drum heads to continue his rolls/etc. He seemed pretty chill while playing extremely fast and I noticed he had crazy power too, every drum stroke was a hard hit. The fact he's on a smaller kit amplified his ability even more. Very consistent depth to his snare drum strokes. There was maybe a slight fatigue from him towards the 75% over mark during the set, but hardly noticeable. 

 

The guitarist's actual guitar work, to me, was good but not mind-blowing really. His songwriting is really the key. It seems like his recipe for success is just cascading a waterfall of hooks into a song, all at different rhythmic patterns, each with their with catchy chorus that has a distinct melody pattern that is fairly dynamic, or complex.

 

It's sort of like sentences. A simple sentence is "I like cat food." The melodic equivalent would be similar to extrapolating the words from the sentence into notes on the tonal spectrum. Every word in the sentence is a 1-syllable word, so you get a 4-note melody. Which is good. But this guy will write more complex sentences, something like, "Because I like cat food, I always feel so...damn... good!!!  Everyday!!" and match those melodic notes to a catchy little drum and guitar hook. Then he'll do that about 10-25 times per song in various ways. 

 

Every musical passage is very much at the top-level of what you can do within a songwriting framework... in terms of keeping everyone's attention and providing different parts that never get boring. Every part is a hook. 

 

 

The frontman sings well, though I noticed he was struggling with high notes during the show at one point. He didn't do any screaming at the show, although he screams on their "Gami Gang" album in a few songs. I was waiting to hear it, but I don't think he screamed live. Can't remember actually. Maybe he did once. Some of his screaming is actually well done, so really he can do it all. I suspect the screaming on "Somewhere City" was done by someone else, a friend of the group I'm assuming. Those vocals are mixed behind the singing vocals, mostly on choruses with descending notes. It's easy to hear within the mix once you recognize it's there.

The singer, despite being uninterested in any extended conversation on the street, won me over at the end of the show for two reasons which I'll get into in a bit. I was ready to dismiss this group as a guy who is too full of himself for me to really be a fan. Because, look, I approached him, as a fan, in the most generic and friendly way possible, and he pretty much just ignored me. If I were in his position, it sort of depends on the situation how I'd react. I believe I would probably engage in some conversation with the person at the very least. In fact, I have been in this exact position and talked to people I didn't know (who knew a lot about me, though) for a while. So, it's tough to say. On a certain day I could also be guilty of doing exactly what he did, to "keep it a buck" as the kids say. He could've also had to report back to the venue on some sort of time limit to not miss the catering or something. Who knows.

 

But, I stood and watched the whole time to see if I could figure him out. He did some stuff that won me over where I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt. 

 

I noticed during the show he seemed to just be staring off into space, intermittently. When everyone is loving your B-sides and there's a bald 36 year old quietly judging you from the soundboard I'm sure you're wondering why. The eye contact from both guys over the course of their set said it all, for me, though it'd be impossible to put that into words.

 

But anyway, I was kinda debating whether or not this lead singer was a poser after he ditched me on the sidewalk, to be totally transparent. About halfway through the show I almost was convinced he was. However... at the very end of the show I felt satisfied with giving him the benefit of the doubt. Here's why.

The first thing is that he admitted to the audience that an encore is a waste of everyone's time. That I respected big time. Shows he was more about being practical and the music than anything else like projecting some image out there.

The second thing is how the show ended. With one song left, the front cleared out. The show was filled with 20-something girls and I imagine once they knew it was almost over they wanted to kinda get towards the exit before everyone else. 

 

I have never seen this at a concert, and it was kinda weird; a major chunk of the audience cleared out before the show ended. I kind of understood why, it's like leaving The Knicks game early, to get a jump on traffic, but I don't know if I've seen this phenomenon at such a small concert. It wasn't like only five people walked away... All the sudden there was a gap where about 30-40 people all had just bounced. Kind of weird.

 

Anyway, there was a bit of a mass exodus during their last two songs. That's where I saw my opportunity to get closer to the front. so I walked right up towards the stage.

There was some dude, who had to be in his 50's, on his buddy's shoulders doing double fist pumps in the now-completely-empty circle right in front of the stage... He looked like a music critic. Once he stopped, The band went into a track off "Somewhere City" and I stood at the edge of the now-empty front-of-the-audience semi-circle.

It was a weird sense that "now that everyone's cleared out" those of us who are left (who have been standing off to the side for the entire show) can really mine these last few moments here for what they're worth. Sort of like chugging the last bits of Doritos out of a bag that's 95% already finished, and maybe even crushing a beer can on your forehead afterwards.

 

This moment was a mixture of both older, over-30 people and younger kids, probably down to like 16-17 year olds who met at the front of the stage and in my opinion it felt like we all said, "We're all gonna relish these last scraps of music and part of this show right here for this split second." And that's what happened.

 

Commence some open-hand shoving at the best part of this closing song, I'm pretty sure it was...666 flags.

 

And from there I could tell the band wasn't phoning it in. They got me. Right at the end I got hyped. They played hard until the final note of their show. The singer projected his music authentically and the crowd was in on the fun. Big vibes right at the very end of their set to the remaining people in the front. And it carried out into the street too. It was very unexpected.

 

To wrap up... I pretty much silently evaluated this band the entire time to see what they were about. I already knew their recordings and musical composition were top notch. I was there to learn more. I don't think the lead singer, nor drummer phoned it in. They convinced me right at the end there.  I left with a smile on my face. The band went out on a high, and I exited with one. I'm pretty sure the lead singer might've taken the stage on one. Don't ask me how I know. Also, there were a couple of moments from this show I've left out of the blog post, but I'd gladly speak about in real life. If anyone is curious just bang the line.