Dear Mr. Dylan

Mr. Bob Dylan
Address Redacted

Dear Mr. Dylan —

I hope this letter finds you, as you are something of a recluse!. As you are surely aware, the music industry, like the times, has changed, and, in fact, is always a-changing. Much of the lyrical content today is simpler, angrier and more repetitive. Far be it from us to edit the classics for marketplace reasons, but we wonder if you might take it upon yourself to update some of your work to accommodate today’s audience. We feel certain we will at least double sales in this way, especially because we plan to commit significant marketing dollars to your “re-imagining” of selected classics. Here are some samples we had AI put together simply to demonstrate how you might rework your words. As you can see, minimal changes can have a significant effect in the process of bringing to your catalog a more contemporary sensibility. Also, note that you needn’t go back in the studio to re-record. We can recreate your younger voice to sing anything.

Sample 1:
How many roads must a man walk down
before you can call him a man
How many, I say HOW MANY!
how many roads, bitch!
I need a number, goddamnit!

Sample 2:
It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why, babe
if’n you don’t know by now
And it ain’t no use to sit and wonder why, babe
You annoying, snoring sow
When your rooster crows at the break of dawn
Look out your window and I’ll be gone
You’re the reason I’m a-traveling on
But don’t think twice, bitch

We look forward to hearing your thoughts, Mr. Dylan

Sincerely
Vance Labrador
Streaming Catalog Manager
Reimaginary Records

In Praise of John R. Miller

The older I get, the more I respect time, including the time of others, so I’ll get right to the nut of it. If you enjoy thoughtful, relatable, and deftly constructed lyrics, interesting and hummable melodies and arrangements, and rock-solid instincts and musicianship, check out John R. Miller.

We saw him last night at Vinyl in Atlanta, and the performance was pro on all levels, including his smoking and dialed-in band. A flawlessly synced bass and drum, which was layered with soaring fiddle and an accomplished guitar-work (with pedal steel for which I’m a sucker) and electric mandolin (I think; I forgot to count the pegs.)

As I looked around the venue between songs, I was struck by the fact that there was still standing room because this guy and his band deserve a bigger audience, in my opinion. There’s a hard-earned purity to his material, and if it just so happens to work out that way, sometimes certain tunes can have a roadhouse commercial edge, too, which keeps the set driving in a live show. That’s one of the things that first attracted me to the music of John R. Miller: the depth and variety of his songs in style, subject, and general execution, from deft, accessible singer-songwriter, to clever, high BPM rock tracks on the foibles of middle-class survival. Another thing that caught my ear early on is his vocal style. It’s not spoken, because he’s always perfectly on pitch with his melodies, but it sounds intimate because there is no affectation in his style, no exaggerations of vowels. Most tracks to me are delivered as storytelling, confession or both, regardless of whether they’re with the full-band or solo acoustic. The performance is authenticity, I’d say.

So, I wanted to support this bunch beyond going to the show, but I was torn at the merch table between the CDs, T-shirt, or hat. I tried to figure out which would do the band more good financially. Ultimately, I decided on the T-shirt since it turns me into a free billboard, though the hat might have been equally viable given my hairline.

This outfit will be on the road for the near future, and if they come to your town or anywhere near it, I recommend seeing this show. They are growing their following the old-fashioned way, and I think John R. Miller and the Engine Lights deserve TV exposure, late night, SNL, something.

For our show, the opening act was Ferd, and they dialed up the energy with the fiddle, bass and banjo tunes delivered with joy, humor, and mastery of their instruments. Keepin’ an eye out for those boys. And here’s their site, so you can get on their list if you’re of a mind. If any of you film producers need an authentic old-time band, the fellas are performance- and camera-ready. Got a little bit of a Levon Helm vibe vocally.

Boss Katana MkII 100 or Fender Deluxe Reverb Tone master. Hmmm.

I considered the Boss Katana MkII 100 against the Fender Deluxe Reverb Tone Master. I really wanted the Tone Master based on nothing but research and videos, and ultimately those were the only things involved in the decision since I never played through either before purchase.

But I decided on the Katana based on an argument I read that suggested the Fender Tone Master price might be too high considering that we don’t yet know the longevity of the design. Being poor, I found this persuasive, so I bought a new Katana MKII 100 at Guitar Center on a price-match for $338. When I plugged it in, I was delighted that modeling tech has evolved so far since my old Vox Valvetronics. You can read positive reviews elsewhere about the sounds of the amp, but for me, it was usable out of the box. I still haven’t delved into the software elements. Already it has comforted my worries about the longevity and durability of solid state amps due to an alarming accident.

I was so delighted with the amp I decided to customize the grill, so I ordered a design (a screen grab from a famous sci-fi film I frequently use) from Contrado, which unbeknownst to me is in England. I loved the result, so I disassembled the amp and replaced the grill. As I was showing it off to my wife, I noticed marks in our new laminate countertop, and they were suspiciously where I’d worked on the grill. I’d stapled without enough blockage beneath the grill board and damaged the counter. To get a closer look, I placed the Boss Katana II 100 on the 34-inch-tall stool at the breakfast island, and then I watched my wife’s expression slowly take on that of the new grill as the amp fell off the stool, crashing on the oak floor. Head in hand, I imagined the loss I’d amassed in one second, hundreds of dollars between and several hours of my life. It had fallen so that it landed on one corner, then fell face first, like a New York sucker-punch victim.

Finally, I had the nerve to examine the amp. Miraculously, I couldn’t even find a scuff. A few minutes later I fired it up, and was shocked to find that it powered on and sounded fine. Admittedly, I’ve not yet tried many of its features like USB, send-return, aux in, expression, but all the EQ, effects, amp models, boosts, watt selector etc. work.

To me, this is testimony to the durability of this design, the Malaysian manufacturing, and maybe solid-state amp tech by Roland. I have not accidentally dropped a Fender Deluxe Reverb Tone Master from a 34-inch stool, but I would not be surprised with similar results if it landed the same way. If you have any experience there, please share. I might get gear crazy and go for one of those, too. It was my instinctive choice, after all. But I’m very happy with the Katana, so much so that I feel bad for not putting the emblems back on. The “Boss” word conflicts with the new graphic on the grill and the emblem doesn’t do it for me. However, if I ever play out, I’m sure someone will ask about the amp, and I will be sure to explain, and with pride, that it’s a Boss Katana.

, , , , ,

Generational genius

A friend told me recently about a new live version of the Donald Fagen album “Nightfly,” and I listened, slack jawed, at the perfection of the performances and production. I just have such respect for the level of musicianship and engineering need to pull that off. It’s award winning, but you don’t put in that level of effort for awards. Re-listening drove me to seek out the sheet music, and looking it over, I was most impressed at how Fagen, through this and his Steely Dan work, managed to take sophisticated jazz elements and somehow craft hook-laden tunes you can’t stop humming. I con’t think of anyone worse who is done it better or for longer.

It reminds me in one sense of Gene Kelly, who revealed that he considered his life’s work to be bringing respect to dance as an athletic art, not just a feminine thing. I’m not sure that effort had legs, as it were, but there’s no doubt that at the time he proved the athleticism of the form. It just never found longevity in culture outside Broadway.

Fagen, I think, had more success melding jazz and pop. THere’s so much to learn from him, but it takes concentration, and determination to internalize anything near his level of sophistication. But that’s one of the joys of music; there’s always something to learn and enjoy, and appreciate, slack jawed.