Bottom-End, Writings and Reviews from Music Producer Pete Strobl

For those not fluent in the Lingua Franca da Cornu, or, the way horn players talk, the term Jump Street means from the top, at the beginning, right off the bat, from the left, immediately. For example, if a jazz trumpeter were to say “I knew the skirt made change from jump street.” his friends would understand that, in his opinion, the girl in question was a known purveyor of sexual commerce from the very beginning. There, that should clarify the title, but more about Groove Duke and the “IT” being nailed in a moment.

There was a time when recordings, really good recordings, were being made by really good people as a matter of routine. These recording projects came in under budget, everybody usually got paid and if they were successful, there might have been a little $omething on the back end. This was back in the days before iPods. Audio-philogically it was the Cro-Magnon era of monophonic AM radio. The mono 45 rpm record is to the mp3 as cave painting is to CGI. A friend of mine has an old Chrysler with the original tube radio and I have to say man, old-school R&B popping out the top of that single dashboard speaker still gets the hairs on my neck up and dancing.

So now, here we are in the summer of 2010. Recording budgets have become somewhat of an oddity on display in the history museum. The skill set of composing and recording digital music is approaching that of virtual Playstation auto theft with the results being a fairly accurate representation of the circumstances under which the crime was committed. Okay, that’s a bit strong, but there can be no argument that, under the heading of of self-produced recording projects, there exists a lot of crappy music parading under false pretenses.

Out of this fog and into the harbor sails the Heavy Mariner. This freshman release from Chicago’s own Groove Duke, Mark Alan Cornell, has somehow managed to corral a cracking ensemble of living, breathing musicians, singers, technical personnel and other mercenaries for next to nothing to produce a body of work that does exactly what a horn-driven R&B album should do…it makes you smile.

Heavy Mariner

Groove Duke provides plenty to love for everyone on this album. The horn arrangements are tightly written and performed and the solo playing eloquently serves the songs rather than the players egos, a welcome element and the benchmark of experienced road warriors. The Rhythm Section, capitalized out of respect to the album personnel, is a heaving beast of groove. There is nothing mechanical about this band. The true test of any Rhythm section is a slow shuffle and the depth of feel in You Better Believe It is like being tied to a chair next to a sleeping Rhinoceros. The back beat pops at the last possible instant and what seems to be a groovy little tune is actually quite sinister under the shiny facade. And let me say something about sounds. I’ve spent hours watching engineers trying to get rid of a snare drum ping. But wait til you check out Judas Love. A ping never felt so right. From the single, Stick Boy right down the line, the Rhythm Section kicks the rest of the band square in the ass and handing in a less-than-my-best-stuff performance doesn’t seem to be an option for anyone.

But let me get to what makes this album really work in the tradition of classic R&B records. Instrumentals are great and who can’t find love in their heart for Squib Cakes, Home Cookin’ and What Does It Take. But the ultimate connection with an audience happens at the vocal mic. That’s where the story unfolds, that’s where the guts get spilled, that’s where all the joy, pain, faith and details are put on display for everyone to see and hear. And it is at the vocal mic that this album makes its boldest statement. Pauli Carman, the voice, heart and soul behind Champaign’s How ‘Bout Us produced the background vocals so it will come as no shock that they are stellar in every way. The arrangements are classic and familiar without being trite and Cornell’s stories couldn’t be told without the marvelous interplay so characteristic of great R&B vocal ensembles.

Mark Cornell

Mark Cornell’s singing chops are deceptively musical. While he isn’t Al Green, Teddy Pendergrass, Donald Fagan, Sly Stone or even Wayne Cochran, his original dialect is derivative of a massive hit singles collection. But it isn’t beauty of tone in the usual sense that make Cornell’s vocals compelling. Cornell is first and foremost a musician in general and a trumpet player in particular, a combination that has proven both interesting and successful in the past. Witness Louis Armstrong, Chet Baker and Jack Sheldon for example. Of the three, only Baker had what most would consider a pleasing voice in the strictest terms, but all three are masterful singers who get the point across on a most intimate level. Accomplished Jazz musicians have a sense of intonation, time and phrasing rare even in the best golden-throated vocalists. Cornell is cut from the same whole cloth and when he tells you a story you listen and believe. Sometimes he’s the guy across the bar and sometimes he’s sneering menacingly into your ear as in the afore-mentioned You Better Believe It. His emotions run from zero to sixty but he is always consistently “That Guy” and you just want to hear more.

Which brings me to my only real issue with this album. Does Mark Cornell see himself as a trumpet player who sings or as a singer who plays trumpet? There is never a moment on the album where I say to myself, “Damn, I wish that trumpet was louder.”  I can’t say the same for the lead vocals. There are sections where the background vocals, excellent as they are, could step back a few feet from the front of the stage. But I can’t blame them because it feels as if Cornell is having an “I’m really just a trumpet guy doing the best I can.” moment. I got news for you Mr. Cornell. You’re busted! No matter what you think, you sing your ass off so step up and accept a 5dB boost in the mix for your bad self.

Getting back to the craft of making records that sound and, more importantly, feel good, Heavy Mariner kicks the hell out of some projects costing a boatload of money. Everyone involved with this record knew exactly what they were doing and did it well. It sounds like just a good time weekend in the studio with a bunch of pals but anyone in the know will tell you how much is involved in an album like this.

Heavy Mariner from Groove Duke started out as a Sellaband project but Mark Cornell made it happen on his own. Above all, the album makes you smile. Yeah, there is the obligatory instrumental to open the show. But my face started cracking open about halfway through the drum fill that starts I Get The Picture and I was a stepping, grinning mess for the duration.

Get yourself a copy, go find someone with an old mono sound system, preferably in the dashboard of a mid-sixties chrome-encrusted land-yacht and roll the windows down. Just don’t forget to floss because you’re gonna to be grinnin’. The “IT” is old school R&B and Groove Duke is nailin’ it right from Jump Street.

Establishing an instantly recognizable identity can be the most elusive ingredient in building a career as a young musical artist. We see the difficulty every time we tune in to American Idol. Young artists competing for public recognition struggle every week to be whatever it is they think will keep them on the show another week. They adopt new hairstyles, change their demeanor, paint their nails, get a new tattoo and make the sort of unfortunate wardrobe choices that could easily backfire in any posh big city nightspot. No matter how well or badly these aspiring idols are able to perform, I always want to ask the question, “Who the hell are you anyway? I mean…really…who?”

Who Are These People

Now, we can talk all we want about artistic integrity and all of that sort of balderdash. But if you are a musical performer attempting to enter the professional ranks as a recording artist, the issue of commercial marketability is inescapable and must be addressed. Every public image, every word, spoken, written and sung, every video, every note produced is a commercial advertisement of your product whether you like it or not. You are perceived as being the sum of that which you allow to be put before the public.

In today’s marketplace, the highest priority is given to immediacy of product identification. When you go to the convenience store to buy a pack of breath mints, the box that looks the coolest will win every time. The mints might taste like horseshoe nails and there might be the most amazing breath mints only inches away in a plain brown wrapper. But by the time you realize you’ve bought the box instead of the mints your money is already on the way to corporate headquarters. This distasteful form of hucksterism has sadly become the engine driving public underwear-washing displays like American Idol. The contestants who are fortunate enough to make the show spend so much energy trying to be everything to everybody that we never really get a chance to know them. Am I seeing an artist who has average abilities in multiple genres, or am I watching a victim of multiple personality disorder unravel like Sally Field’s Sybil as she tries to decide on which of her sixteen personalities will be the flavor of the day?

It’s not that I’m knocking American Idol, nor do I wish to downplay the need for effective marketability. But if you think about it, of the many talented artists who have managed any sort of  post-Idol career, the most publicly accepted are the ones who showed their cards early on. Carrie Underwood has always been a wholesome Country Artist even though she had to prove herself relatively competent in multiple genres during her competition. Chris Daughtry is another example of an artist we felt we knew from the start. Adam Lambert on the other hand, could be one of the most impressive singers in the show’s history. But will his chameleon-like ability to transform into anything that serves the moment be an asset or a liability? Would true Country fans accept Adam’s interpretation of a Dolly Parton classic? Do die-hard Queen fans really take Adam’s performance with the band as anything more than a novelty. There’s no question that, purely on a technical level, Adam sings higher and louder than many of the great Motown artists. But would real Motown fans swallow an Adam Lambert remake of What’s Going On? Singing ability aside, you just want to ask yourself “Who the hell is this guy…really?”

There can be a wide gulf between great musical artists and great entertainers. Great artists can also be considered great entertainers but great entertainers are not necessarily great musical artists. Tina Turner and Elvis Presley are the epitome of the former while Sammy Davis Jr. and Wayne Newton are examples of the latter. Time and public acceptance will answer as to where Adam Lambert’s contributions will fall in this equation.

The Real Rod?

Two other examples of artistic multiple personality disorder spring to mind. I attended the American Music Awards a few years ago when Rod Stewart took the stage to perform a medley from his Great American Songbook album. You had to be a true blue Rod Stewart fan to keep your pre-show h’ordeuvres from making a curtain call. And Michael McDonald wouldn’t have lost one molecule of career luster had he let someone else make a spiritless remake of Motown classics. There are just some things that don’t need to be done. I admit that Stewart and McDonald were established superstars and had a right to do as they pleased. Established stars can remake themselves to varying degrees of success over the length of a long career. But for an unknown artist to morph across genres while compiling material geared to attract industry attention is a mistake.

The Dream Team

A good pal of mine mentors aspiring recording artists seeking fame on different web-based platforms like AKAmusic and Sellaband. His DreamTeam members are at the stage at which they must make the choices and decisions which will define their artistic identities to potential fans with whom they may never have personal contact. The era of booking a showcase gig and padding the house with friends and relatives is over. Music lovers can search the web and find the music they like from an ever increasing pool of talent. So, how should these artists proceed? How can one artist become the sought-after product desired over millions of others offered for consideration?

For these up-and-coming then, there is the question of what to do, what to do? The first thing I suppose is to decide what you are. Are you a singer, a songwriter, a pianist, a guitarist? Is there one aspect of your talent that holds court over the others? Does the interaction between your singing and playing embellish or detract from your performance? Are you ready to admit that there may be a difference between the genre that you enjoy as opposed to the genre in which you are most capable? Are you a Rock singer in an R&B body or is there a Country heart beating in your Alt-Rock chest? These are some questions that have to do with what’s on the inside and only you can answer them.

What’s inside will eventually make its way to the surface. So what condition is your outside in? Do you dress the part? And if you do, is it just a part or is this who you really are? Did you get a tattoo to show your individuality, or did you do it because you didn’t want to be left out? Do you take a magazine to the hairdresser to give an example of what you want to look like, or do you put a pair of underpants on your head to keep your hair out of your eyes as you hover over your laptop writing your heart out.

Appearing onstage can be a matter of playing a role, wearing a costume or playing pretend. But when all you have between you and your public is a set of headphones it makes being somebody more important than being like somebody. And when a truly great artist hits that first note you don’t need to see a driver’s license or passport to know who they are.

Believe me when I tell you that I don’t have any answers. But I’m still left with one important question…Who the hell are you anyway?

I made the switch from gym rat to studio rat when I realized that breaking fingers on the basketball court didn’t add much to a bass track. So I hung up the old sneakers, grabbed my bass with both hands and took my gym rat mentality with me into any studio with a good espresso machine. What can I say? The things I would forego for a chance to be in the room with the guys and gals is a very short list. And that is why I jumped at the invitation to travel to Holland to work on Traveling Girl with some good friends who also happen to know their way around a recording studio.

I was picked up at Amsterdam’s Schipol airport by the Traveling girl herself, Lille Mulder. As we knew each other only by email, we both did a few laps around the terminal before the process of elimination successfully put us into the car together. The two hour drive to Dick Kemper’s Studio in Doetinchen gave us a chance to tell our life stories and lay the groundwork for the two week’s work ahead.

Dick Kemper

S&K Studio reflected all the know how of the seasoned musician/engineer/producer that is Dick Kemper. Dick toured the world as the bassist of Vandenberg sharing major concert venues with Metallica and Ozzy and that experience combined with the intervening years of recording have served to create a consummate studio pro. I was here to work with Lille  only on the vocal tracks but a quick tour of the studio and a listen to the basic tracks told me that she would have plenty of inspiration to draw upon when it was her turn on the other side of the glass.

As good as Dick is at his job, any engineer or producer will tell you that they are only as good as the talent holding the guitar or bass, or in the case of Nico Groen, hitting things with sticks. And in this department Dick had plenty to work with. The producer of The Traveling Girl is my good pal Casper van Vulpen and Casper started the project off with plenty of wind in his sails by choosing great songs to record and the right combination of players to make the magic happen. This project was truly an international effort as Casper had gathered the forces of a Russian from Poland, a Polish songwriter from England, a British writer from London, an Austrian from Los Angeles, a rhythm section from Holland and one of the best singers I’ve worked with in years. Lock the doors and get the coffee going. This was going to be more fun than a pick up game at the Fourth Street cage in the Village.

The Traveling Girl

Lille was a dream to work with. Many singers can be temperamental, moody or demanding. Lille was all of these but in a very unique way. Where some singer’s moods or demands are driven by insecurity, inability or lack of preparation, Lille took full responsibility and her demands were only of herself. And where some singers might hit the wall of their endurance or storm out of the room blaming it all on the headphone mix or the color of the pop filter, Lille forced every mood directly through the microphone and into her vocal performance for upwards of eight hours at a stretch.

The main focus of my involvement was in creating authentic and sincere vocal performances with a singer in English as a second and sometimes third language. Regrettably, I only know how to say “Goddammit” “Two Beers” and “Screwing in the kitchen” in the Dutch language but Lille and I were able to work together in German as well as English. I find sincerity to be the most attractive element of any vocal performance and this must be based on not only a thorough understanding but also a convincing belief in the lyrical content of a song.

Producer Casper van Vulpen

Whenever studio rats get gather in the temple of sound they follow a timeless ritual. Everyone let’s everyone else know who they know, which new plug-ins they use, choice of recording software, past, present and future drug, alcohol and gambling profile and whatever other factoids seem pertinent to the session. It’s just a bit of canine butt-sniffing really, but it serves to lubricate the initial get-to-know-you period better than passing out resumes. We already knew each other via the internet so the circle sniff was just a bit if handshaking and joke telling. Before I hit the pillow that first night I felt warmly sniffed into the pack.

My second day in Holland Lille and I went to work in earnest. As we went line by line dissecting the finer points of pronunciation we also discussed the inner meaning of every phrase. Sometimes when writers create in a foreign language they might say something that makes perfect literal sense but loses symbolic meaning or poetic value in the translation. There were a few corners to smooth over in this department and we changed a few words or phrases to insure that Lille was portraying the feeling behind the meaning with belief, conviction and precision.

Nico Groen at S&K Studio

I had initially thought to coach Lille into a strictly American pronunciation but her delivery has a certain international charm which we certainly did not want to lose. So we concentrated on clarity and those areas where letter sounds differ between Dutch, German and English while retaining the feel and passion which went into the original demos of the songs. On a technical level, most problems arise when losing the distinction between voiced and un-voiced consonants. Using the word “Love” as an example, the ‘V’ must have pitch. Dutch and German speakers pronounce the word as “Luff” because their ‘V’ is our ‘F’ and so “Live” becomes “Life” and “Very” becomes “Fairy.” Another pitfall is the American ‘TH’ sound which doesn’t exist in many European languages. To make the sound one must extend the tip of the tongue between the teeth and blow out a puff of air. Euros tend to replace the ‘TH’ with either the hard ‘D’ or the sibilants ‘Z’ or ‘S’ as in “Vaht do you Sink about ziss.” And, as the sentence indicates, even our ‘S’ sound has voiced and un-voiced versions as does the ‘TH’…hear the difference between “This” and “Think” “What’s” and “Was.” And then there is our ‘W’ which is their ‘V’…so our “Was” would be pronounced “Vass” two corrections for the price of one on that one.

The key was to make the corrections seem effortless and allow the vocal performance to be driven by Lille’s amazing sense of phrasing. As I got to know her day by day I learned that Lille is fierce when it comes to learning new things. She was hell-bent on mastering whatever I suggested and made notes on the lyric sheets, wrote on the leg of her jeans, pounded the table and repeated the ‘TH’ sound until I had to cover my coffee cup. But I didn’t want her to obsess so the best and most efficient learning came through simple conversation. We decided that when in the studio we would speak only English and I would try to catch and correct every mispronunciation as it happened.

Lille keeping an eye on Roland Franken

There are many structured exercises aimed at engaging the diaphragmatic-intercostal musculature but none is more efficient than uncontrolled laughter. Being among new friends gave me a fresh audience for the jokes that elicit groans from my stateside friends and I took full advantage. Teaching the jokes to Lille was also a way to practice Americanized idiomatic pronunciation. What seemed to be breaks in the work were actually quite useful and her delivery of the songs as well as her complete understanding of the intent behind them improved at a fast clip.

Two weeks later my job was done and Lille dropped me at the airport where she had first found me. We were in the studio every day and the two weeks seemed like one long session. Working with Casper, Kostek, Dick Kemper and especially Lille had made the time go much too quickly and on the Los Angeles bound flight I wished that we had been making a double album. The musicians played their asses off, Lille sang her ass off, Dick engineered his ass off and now my ass was off for home.

Traveling Girl will be  available online and represents the hard work of very talented people from all corners of the globe (yes, I know that the globe doesn’t have corners, just go with me on that one). It was a ton of fun to be involved with the project, the music and, most importantly, the people. I hope you all enjoy it.

Lille

One of my favorite projects within the Sellaband community is The Collaboration Project, a group of like-minded musicians, writers, producers and performers who…ah but I’ve already written that article so I won’t repeat myself more than to say how much I admire what this project is about and to state that it is grossly underfunded. The artist currently featured on The Collaboration Project’s profile page is a singer from The Netherlands who, if her demo recordings are any indication, has everything it takes to kick in whatever doors stand between her and a shot at being the next great diva. Her name is Lille and she is quite simply one of the most impressive voices I’ve heard in a good long while.

Casper Van Vulpen

With Lille, producers Casper Van Vulpen and Kostek Andreev  have a real tiger by the tail. Lille rocks hard and easily holds her own as the focal point of the high energy guitar driven tracks. But as I listen to track after track I find that there is so much more to this elegant singer than just an amazing set of pipes. She sings with the soulful aggressiveness of a Lydia Pense on No Mercy Blues and then turns around to display the sophistication and dynamics of a young Celine Dion on Phobia.

If that isn’t enough to convince, take a listen to Frozen Black Water as Lille gives Deborah Holland and Animal Logic a good run for their money. But, as Billy Mays, the late master of the Home Shopping Network would scream…”Wait! There’s more!” Lille steps on the gas with both cowboy boots on Traveling Girl and her range and emotional dynamic sensibilities really shine on Listen.

Kostek Andreev

The production of the demos provides ample proof of strong songwriting, masterful guitar playing and a thorough understanding of the huge potential of their enormously gifted singer. According to Lille’s website, the demos were produced in a modest home recording environment with fully produced studio recording sessions scheduled for late this year. With demos of this quality there is always the danger of over sanitization when a project is put under the studio microscope but with the addition of human beings like drummer Nico Groen and Roland Franken on bass replacing Kostek’s excellent programming, my guess is that the tracking sessions will inspire Lille to even greater vocal performances…if that could be possible.

Nico Groen

If the full band grooves as hard as Casper and Kostek’s computer this could be a dangerously memorable album. I have just one reservation or perhaps a word of caution. The musicians involved with Lille are all absolutely of the first order. But using Animal Logic as an illustration for a moment, Stuart Copeland had as his rhythm section partner the amazing Stanley Clark, certainly a step up from the able yet less intricate Police bassist, Sting. One could also argue that guitarist Michael Thompson’s guitar parts on the Animal Logic albums were more advanced than what Andy Summers played on some of the Police records. But there is no question that there are more copies of Every Breath You Take playing on iPods as I write this than all the Animal Logic songs combined.

Roland Franken

Now, I really dig Animal Logic, but I’m a musician. And when musicians produce records aimed at impressing other musicians they sometimes leave the general public scratching their heads wondering what it all means. Kostek and Casper are both monster guitarists and have written some sophisticated material for Lille including collaborations with Monica Thomas and British songwriter Mark Payne. When this project convenes to record later this winter I hope that a few words of wisdom from EVH can get some traction. When I asked Ed why background vocals are so important to him he answered that 99% of the people who buy albums and attend concerts are non-musicians…and if they don’t go home from a concert singing “PA-NA-MA” and “Dance The Night Away” then he would still be an amazing guitar player…only nobody would know it.

Lille’s debut album will be available in 2010 but if you want a preview, visit Lille, Casper and Kostek at Reverbnation, Sellaband or her new website. Crank up the volume and hang on. These people are serious

When I was in my twenties I worshiped at the altar of funk. James Brown, Tower Of Power, Ohio Players…you get the picture. If they marketed action figures of funk musicians my toy box would have looked like the line-up at an Oakland barbeque and funk fest. From my perspective, country music was completely of, by and  for sequined, cowboy-hatted shit-kickers who lived in trailers with two cars parked on cement blocks in the front yard. If anyone had told me that The Ohio Players’ wardrobe was  as ridiculous as Porter Wagoner’s there would have been trouble.

But as a musician who earned the daily bread by making club crowds of many persuasions happy, I found myself in playing situations that didn’t always correspond with my personal tastes. That didn’t prevent me from being a smart ass and when a customer would request a country song, my witty answer would be, “Sure, what country?” Thankfully I grew out of my bias to discover that there was crappy music to be ridiculed in every genre and, as I gained further wisdom, great music to be cherished as well.

Over the years and during the time I managed The Band’s old haunt, Shangri La, I had the pleasure of getting to know and appreciate the work of some great rock musicians who had one foot planted firmly in a cowboy boot at some time in their career. I can also say that standing on the stage of the Grand Old Opry and playing to the 4,000 fans who fill the concert hall was one of the big thrills and chills of my playing career. Patsy Cline, Hank Williams and Johnny Cash have become as firmly ensconced in my iPod as my erstwhile funk gods and I feel no sense of disloyalty shuffling between What Is Hip and Your Cheating Heart.

Katie Thompson

There is an up and coming young country artist on Sellaband who answers my “Sure, what country?” dumb-ass question with a vengeance. Katie Thompson is a classic country singer/song writer from what is probably Nashville’s most remote satellite, New Zealand. Katie exhibits her own sense of style, opting for cocktail dresses over blue jeans as she leads her accomplished band through a repertoire of classic country tempered by her Kiwi upbringing.

Katie’s three original tracks on her Sellaband profile page indicate that she has the potential of becoming a household name not only in New Zealand but anywhere that hosts “Electric Slide” night. When she reaches the budgetary goal of $50,000 Katie will have the opportunity to go into the studio with the right people and the right toys to create an album worthy of her honest approach to writing and singing. Her vocal delivery is intimate in the vein of classic story tellers like Emmy Lou Harris and Patsy Cline. Katie doesn’t deal in pyrotechnics or phony gospel riffing. She just tells a story as if she were talking over the back fence and her fresh sincerity is her most engaging quality.

Tall Poppy is written and sung with the voice of a typical young person battling the slings and arrows of peer pressure as she develops a sense of self worth in a cruel world. The story, while common to anyone who hasn’t been raised by wolves, is nevertheless a persecution unique to each individual. Everyone coming of age in the world of schoolyard, fashion, teen dances and the required accoutrements associated with being “cool” has moments when they feel themselves too tall, too short, too skinny, too fat, too stupid or too smart to be considered acceptable by their peers. Katie’s angst laden lyrics ride over a deceptively cheerful rhythmic track but the darkness of the chord progression brings clearly into focus the pain of wanting to be accepted . The guitar playing on this as well as all three of Katie’s Sellaband tracks is not only well executed but tasteful and most importantly, relevant to the song.

Tall Poppy

Monteiths On Tap is a bit of fun and could very well be the hook that lands the big fish for Katie. One can quibble about product placement or the political correctness of glorifying the imbibement ( I think I just invented a word) all the way to the steps of their favorite house of worship, but what is a good old country song if not a paean of praise for either fast cars, faster trucks, loyal dogs and good beer? New Zealand’s Monteiths Brewery has stepped up to the plate in supporting Katie’s Sellaband journey and well they should. Who can say how many Monteiths empties land in the recycling bin the morning after one of Katie’s appearances at a pub pouring the “liquid gold?” Wonderful resonator guitar work on this track, while the feel of the rhythm section never strays from the “sawdust on the floor” vibe that just begs for another round.

The third track on Katie’s Sellaband profile is an introspectively dark recitativo of bittersweet goodbyes. The emotion of the song, as in the case of Tall Poppy, is one to which any listener can easily relate. I don’t like to repeat myself but here again the guitar work provides a perfect sense of yearning to Katie’s wrenching story. Katie’s song writing skills, while well down the path of becoming memorable, could do with a bit of soul searching here. She has great instincts and her topic choice is right on the money. But some of her lyrics, while not being brazenly cliche, could be more intimately powerful with a tweak here and there.

Song writing is an exercise in telling a story or conveying an emotion that can be related to by the broadest possible cross section of an audience. This is what makes a song popular, and why bother to put music before the public if popularity is not the desired result.The magic of masterful song writing lies in the ability of the writer to say something in a way that is familiar yet original. When Bob Dylan sings “The answer is blowin’ in the wind” we say to ourselves “Well of course it is. Who didn’t know that!” But inside we all know that we could never have come up with such a simple way to state the obvious. Economy and eloquence are bought and paid for in currency represented by reams of discarded lyric sheets.

Katie Thompson is deep in the process of honing her craft and this can be a critical phase in the development of a young writer. Staring at a page of lyrics with the unbiased eye of a supreme court justice and knowing what will go on an album and what will better serve as kindling for the grill is not a skill that comes easily. That process marks the difference between great songs that remain relevant for generations and about a gazillion MP3s on Myspace.

When Katie reaches her $50,000 budget on Sellaband, New Zealand, with a population of 4.3 million, will have cornered what might be the highest degree of success per capita on the internet crowd sourcing platform.  Katie Thompson’s success combined with Sellaband Hip-Hopper Maitreya will have made a strong showing for New Zealanders.  And with Katie’s Sellaband release, I’ll no longer be asking “Sure, what country?”

Carl Orff’s lusty Carmina Burana holds a special place in the hearts and ears of many non music lovers. Most who have never enjoyed a full performance of the piece may refer to sections of Orff’s work as “that music from Excalibur” or “the theme from Glory.” Indeed, the emotional impact of the cantata, based upon Medieval texts discovered in a Bavarian monastery in 1803, is so universal that sections of the piece have sonically illustrated war, peace, braggadocio, militarism and even instant coffee.

The power of the music rests firmly on the art of choral singing. For un-classically inclined musicians this roughly translates to “a lot of people singing at the same time without making a lot of mistakes.” Standing in the midst of 20,000 basketball fans screaming “We Will Rock You” can get the old adrenal glands pumping, but that experience is smashed to ashes against the timpanic downbeat and opening “O Fortuna” of the Carmina Burana when performed by a skilled ensemble.

On May 3, 2009 I had the pleasure of witnessing just such an event as the Pasadena Master Chorale under the expert baton of Artistic Director Jeffrey Bernstein presented the Carmina Burana to an overflow crowd at the First Congregational Church in Pasadena, California. Big budget organizations normally perform the piece with full orchestra but the impact of the music was certainly not compromised by Mr. Bernstein’s use of the smaller chamber version of instrumental accompaniment. Melodic/harmonic chores were handled on piano by Shawn Kirchner and Renee Gilormini while Wade Culbreath on timpani and percussionists Theresa Dimond, Joe Mitchell, John Magnussen, Ken McGrath and Aaron Smith kicked what can only be described as serious ass in executing Orff’s challenging percussion score.

The eighty voice Master Chorale sounded twice their number from the opening phrase on. This group is not your average community choir. Sopranos and basses can be found at most decent church choirs these days for about $4.75 a gallon for the high octane models, so it is not surprising for an ensemble like the Master Chorale to be well stocked. It’s the inner voices, however, that often can be the difference between a competent choir and an exceptional one. Genuine tenors and sonorous altos, like the meat in the middle of a choral sandwich, can sometimes make even stale bread taste like a French dip from Philippe’s. Although the Master Chorale’s tenor section is the smallest by number, the sound palette of the entire group is well balanced. As any vocalist can attest, singing with power offers less challenges than achieving blend, cohesion, intensity and expressiveness at pianissimo levels. Mr. Bernstein has trained this highly skilled choir well and from top to bottom, they sing with a purpose and as one voice.

The Carmina Burana was composed in modern times and the score is well-stocked with metronome indications. As a musician of the heart as opposed to the clock, I normally don’t question the conductor’s choices as to tempo but I couldn’t help feeling as though some sections of the piece were performed a click or two faster than I would think comfortable. The text is extremely wordy and I sensed a bit of hastiness in the brighter sections. Perhaps it can be written off to the acoustics of the venue but one or two beats per minute less here and there might have allowed more definitive interplay between the voices and the intricate accompaniment. It also would have guaranteed a longer performance which, when the closing “Fortuna Imeratrix Mundi” was just an echo in the rafters, would surely have pleased everyone in the house. As it was, the audience rose instantly to their feet and stayed there for an appreciatively long ovation.

Jacquelynne Fontaine

Abdiel Gonzalez and Jacquelynne Fontaine went above and beyond in rendering the lush melodies that Carl Orrf composed for solo baritone and soprano. The baritone solo can be particularly challenging for the “Dies Nox Et Omnia” requires the soloist to sing the opening melody as a lyric baritone, the release section almost in the manner of a counter tenor, yet maintaining sweetness and size, and then deliver the final “Per un baser” in the low range with authority. This is not a role for one dimensional singers and Mr. Gonzalez sang the piece with emotion, dexterity and musicianship beyond what might be expected of someone with his youthful appearance. As for Ms Fontaine, anyone who knows the piece will be on the edge of their seat halfway through the jaunty “Tempus Est iocundum” in anticipation of the climactic “Dulcissime” and Ms Fontaine did not disappoint. The highlight of the soprano solo is only four measures long but requires the soloist to execute flawlessly a very difficult, emotional and exposed line with minimal accompaniment.

Jeffrey Bernstein

Another welcome feature of the performance was the appearance of an actual children’s choir. The Washington Middle School Glee Club, directed by Cynthia Abbot, patiently waited until their turn at bat and proved why music education in our schools should be nurtured at a high priority. Well done.

The Carmina Burana, from a choral standpoint, is not a particularly difficult piece. It is high on the list for many crack high school choirs. The harmonies are sonorous, the dissonances logical, the vocal ranges not insurmountable. But when real men and women roll up their sleeves and go to work as Mr. Bernstein and co. did on May 3rd, look out. Simplicity performed with mature conviction is something altogether different than getting a high school group to pretend they know what they are supposed to be conveying. The piece will grow hair, don medieval chain-mail and the audience will see the 12th century sunlight glinting from the points of marching halberds.

Next up for the Pasadena Master Chorale is The German Requiem by Johannes Brahms. The introspective piece is a departure from the traditional requiem mass format and for it, Brahms has composed some of the most glorious choral music in the literature. I am already salivating to hear what Mr. Bernstein and his excellent choir have in store.