The SnowGhost Music Blog

The Company of Adventurers

Mon, 27 Jul 2009 00:40:00 +0000

Jeff Neufeld and Jordan Nobles talk about The Company of Adventurers, and it's role in today's Classical music scene.

Graves

Sat, 18 Jul 2009 22:39:00 +0000

Here are the boys from Graves, out of Portland, talking about recording, exercise, and the beneficial properties of whiskey.

Pitchfork TV: Dan Deacon

Sat, 07 Mar 2009 01:28:00 +0000

Well, the much-anticipated Pitchfork.tv documentary of Dan Deacon's Bromst, mixed and mastered right here at SnowGhost is finally here. Don't forget to check out tracks from Dan's original SnowGhost session. Enjoy!

Pitchfork TV: Dan Deacon

New York, Re-Revisited

Tue, 24 Feb 2009 02:45:00 +0000

We wanted to make a sentimental video for ourselves documenting our time at CMJ in NYC, because we just had so much fun. Leave it to Ian to pull out the old school camera to capture the hustle and bustle of the city, and Keith and Greg's famed debate on gun control. No, we weren't laughing - it was serious. It feels a lot like a home video from before any of us were born. Kind of like the one that your grandparents showed you of their vacation to Mt Rushmore in 1952, complete with the perfect soundtrack, a la Erick Messler. Enjoy!

Songineer

Sun, 22 Feb 2009 14:21:00 +0000

Here is an example of a typical conversation that might occur between a new acquaintance and me. We will pick up just after the new acquaintance has learned, usually through a third party because third parties love to do this, that I am a musician.

NA: Oh cool. What intsrument do you play?

Me: Mostly guitar, but I try to play whatever instrument I can get my hands on.

3rd Party: He also sings. He’s got a great voice. (3rd Party always has something nice to day at some point so that you can’t get annoyed for them putting you in this conversation, but this also where the conversation’s path becomes inevitable.)

NA: So what kind of music do you play?

Me: Mostly my own stuff, I guess, but I try to play some songs that people might know.

NA: So you’re a singer songwriter.

Bingo, new acquaintance, you have successfully labeled me. I am indeed a singer/songwriter (I prefer the slash because it provides that can’t have one without the other balance of importance). It is true that I sing. It is equally true that I write most of the songs that I sing. Thus, I am a singer/songwriter, a singer of songs that I write, and a singing songster. But as with most labelees, I feel confined by this label. I know plenty of singer/songwriters who are simply that. They write songs and they sing them, and they probably know their way around a PA system. But there is a vast majority of us who also enjoy recording our songs. And then there are those of us like me who actually prefer the writing and recording of the song as a process more than anything else about the creation of music.

So I guess if 3rd party really wanted to make me happy, they would tell new acquaintance that I was a Songineer. Since this is a new term, it would require a bit of explaining, which is fine with me, because explaining that the part of music that makes me feel the most comfortable is when I’m sitting alone in my room, someone’s garage, or an echo-friendly bathroom simply adding a new part to a song I’m writing as I record it. I’ve certainly written a decent amount of songs by just plucking a guitar and putting some words down on paper, but if I have access to recording equipment, the process of crafting a song becomes completely different, and in my opinion, much more intriguing. Instead of strumming a few chords and thinking of a story that rhymes and fits into the rhythm, I can record a simple bass line, add a piano part, goof around with some sound effect I just uncovered, and just keep layering.

Were I a permanent resident at Snowghost Studios, I would undoubtedly be doing an obscene amount of layering. I would also probably be getting a bit of help from people who really know how to play the instruments that I try to incorporate into my songs. I have in fact done this, and while I’m always impressed by collaboration, the songs of mine that usually resonate the most with me are the ones that I do alone. It’s almost like the musical equivalent of a journal entry because you can remember each addition you made and how you felt while you were doing it. And you have no one to thank or blame for how it turns out other than yourself.

So it’s probably no surprise that some or most of my favorite albums of late have been those recorded mostly by one person. These albums strike a chord with me not just because they were crafted in possibly the same type of way I craft my own, but also because their sound, structure, and make up all have that personal touch. The person who writes a song is indeed the songwriter, and it is in their mind where the song is at its most pure. This is obviously improved upon by like-minded musicians who can add parts that the writer cannot, like in most collaborative bands, but there is something special about an artist doing it all in their own way, coming as close as they can to get the sounds in their head out in the open and into your ears.

It’s a sonic painting created from one brush, albeit with many different colors. It’s a process that I’ve been doing for years, and few things have come close to giving me quite as much fulfillment. It’s also a process I am involved in right now as I have a lot of recession-inspired down time, so I’m going to catalog the experience a little bit here. If you’ve done it yourself, it might be interesting to see what kind of practices or habits we share, or how completely different the approach is. Or maybe you’ve never done it at all, but you’ve always wanted to know what goes on in the mind and actions of the songineer. Regardless, I’m going to do it, because it will be neat to catalog the process, especially if I ever have grandkids, and especially if those grandkids rock. Which they will, of course.

My New Favorite Band

Wed, 17 Dec 2008 03:57:45 +0000

I think I have a new favorite band. I feel like I should call up my former favorite band and tell them about this developing situation, only I don’t really know who I would call. Sure, I’ve still got my favorite albums and songs that I never get sick of hearing, but if someone came up to me one week ago and asked me who or what my favorite band is, I would’ve been stumped. The weird part about this is that I didn’t realize I felt this way until I went and saw my new favorite band this past Sunday night in my new favorite music venue. I thought to myself, ‘Greg, this is your new favorite band. They must be because you are behaving as if this show was a sensual massage being administered by no less than 3 highly trained and highly attractive massage specialists, and you’re alternating between getting lost in the sensation and worrying that it might be over in the near future.’ And then I though to myself, ‘Well, Greg, who exactly was your favorite band before, and should you feel like you’re cheating on that band right now?’ My answer to my own question was, ‘Shut up, me. Who cares who was your favorite band? You’re at an incredible show right now, so pay attention, dipshit!’

It was the mental equivalent of slapping myself, and it worked, because from then on, I simply sat back and enjoyed the fine performance by Bon Iver. You might recall a semi-recent blog in which I raved about said band playing an incredible show at an incredible venue mere minutes away from my small town home. Cliff Note of that blog: wow, I had no idea that a great one-man album could be such a great sounding, dynamic 4-man live show. So this time I actually had expectations, but the previous show was so good, better than any YouTube or website video I’d come across, that I was fully prepared for this new show to be good, but not that good. Yet even with these rather ambiguous expectations, I can now say that Bon Iver is my new favorite band and this was the finest performance I’d seen since… I don’t even know. Not bad for a band with only one full album and a four song EP only available on vinyl (nice!) at shows.

Part of what made the experience so great was the Wilbur Theatre in Boston. I’ve spent plenty of time in the Boston area, but I’d never actually been to the theatre district before. I didn’t even know it existed. That’s because I like plays but I hate musicals, and I never go to either. But the Wilbur has been around since 1914, and apparently they occasionally put up some pretty good shows, though most of their productions involve comedians. It is a small place with a deep stage, a standing floor section, a mezzanine and a balcony. I had seats in the middle of the mezzanine, in just about the perfect spot. The show was a sellout, but it was comfortably crowded, and most of the fans were in their spots exactly at eight when the opening act got started. I’d never heard or seen the Tallest Man in the World perform, and I still wasn’t sure I had after he left the stage, as the diminutive Swede never really introduced himself. I really liked what I saw though, and the appreciative crowd seemed to agree.

The Tallest Man played a number of open-tuned acoustic guitars through a vox amp, and it actually sounded incredible aside from the standard amp buzz. ‘This is a good sign,’ I told myself as I correctly assumed that if the opening guy sounded this good, then Bon Iver would sound fantastic. A few songs into the set, Justin Vernon, leader of my new favorite band, admitted that the Wilbur was the perfect place to play. And I thought that they were the perfect band to play in it. All of the songs I’d heard 4 months earlier sounded a bit different, but in a good way. I’m sure this is because, being my new favorite band, Bon Iver are so pumped to be so good that they just get together and make their songs more awesome with each performance. At least this is what it sounded like to me. They played 3 new songs from the EP to go along with the seven they played from the big album, plus the cover they threw in. It wasn’t until Vernon started singing about Josie being on a vacation far away that I realized they were playing Your Love by The Outfield. They actually made it into a beautiful song, though the original version has been in my head ever since.

But as I realized that they were running out of songs, I knew that the night would soon be over, and I tried my best not to panic, even after Vernon warned us that they probably wouldn’t be back for a while. After watching these guys play multiple instruments, sing perfect 4-man harmonies, involve the audience in theatre shaking sing alongs, and just generally blow my mind and exceed my every expectation, I was fully satisfied. They would not be losing my love tonight, even if they only played for one hour and thirteen minutes. Bon Iver is my new favorite band, and until some other band can put on a show like this, I will know exactly what to say when somebody actually asks me who my favorite band is. As far as my favorite color, I’m not so sure, but it probably sounds like Bon Iver.

Our Friend Ian

Fri, 05 Dec 2008 05:10:00 +0000

I just wanted to let everyone know about our friend Ian, who we met throught our friends in Victory Smokes. We first heard about him when we were talking shop with Pat from the VS about making more dramatic documentaries. He suggested that we get a hold of Ian because of his artistic and action-oriented footage. After checking his "footy" out, as Ian would say, we were so impressed that we asked him to hang out with us. He obliged, and we were stoked.

Here's a little bit about Ian and his upcoming show in Missoula:

Ian Clark resides in La Grande, OR. He received his BFA in Photography from The University of Montana in 2007. In addition to showing his artwork, Clark is involved in filmmaking and freelances as a cinematographer and editor.

In addition to developing several short films, music videos, and experimental works, he has brought his talents to the SnowGhost team during the 2008 CMJ Film & Music Festival in New York, as well as helping document the recording process for Dan Deacon's second album, Bromst.

New and Old Marks December 1- December 12, 2008

Opening Reception: Thursday, December 4, 5-7pm

UC Gallery University Center Rm.227 (2nd Floor, Northwest corner) The University of Montana Missoula, MT 59812 (406) 243.4991 info@ucgallery.com

“These recent works explore themes of physical, cultural, and environmental decay. My photographs commonly reference instances where some form of linearity integrates with the natural realm. This relationship is both fascinating and beautiful to me, often revealing tragedy that is becoming increasingly invisible."

"New and old paper, mediums, and color and textural qualities make up this body of work. An old mind collected images according to her artistic interests; herein I have arranged them into a new context. My late grandmother and I both shared an interest in mark making, design, and painterly qualities- but appreciated different artistic movements from one another. New marks have been created where process alters the original intention of an image- affecting the context and previous meaning. Old content becomes new content."

"My work is aimed more at creating a feeling within the viewer than providing discernable imagery. Cultural decay and America's current economic and political standing influence my process. Our collective obsession with celebrity is nauseating to me and also contributes to my interest in recreating dilapidated colors and textures.“

You can view more of Ian's work at: incproductions.org

The Scene Binge Continues

Fri, 05 Dec 2008 02:43:57 +0000

I know I spent a healthy portion of the last blog bashing the Miami music scene and its accompanying lack of quality shows. I still firmly believe these things and I would vehemently defend them against anyone smaller than me, but there are of course exceptions to every rule, and now is a good time to bring one up. Nestled rather scuzzily in the heart of Little Haiti just north of Downtown Miami is a very old English Pub, known equally for its commitment to broadcasting any and every important soccer event, especially those involving United Kingdom anything, and also for supporting and presenting local music. Occasionally they even bring in a fairly well-known indie act, brave enough to put several hundred extra miles on their van odometer for the opportunity to play a dive bar in front of all 58 Miami indie-rock fans. One such rare gem of a time involved former Miami resident Sam Beam playing a solo show many years ago. I remember telling him after the show that there was this great new studio I’d sort of been helping put together out in Montana. He was very polite, and I’d remember more of what I’d said if I wasn’t so impressed with his perfectly dynamic set or distressed that my ride might have taken off without me.

The reason I bring up this little golden nugget of a night is because this was the only time I’d ever seen Iron and Wine. Things have certainly changed since then. For starters, Sam and I have both left Miami, and Iron and Wine is probably a lot more well-known at this point. So when I found out he’d be playing at Lupo’s in Providence, I bought reserved-seating tickets in advance. Said venue is the very place where last year’s Bright Eyes show moved me to whine about poor sound quality at shows. This year, I left Ted behind, but I was still a bit unsure of what to expect. Was it going to be a solo show? Would it sound like ass if there were a band? Would the show be on a tight schedule so that the club kids could take over after hours?

My sound worries were put to sleep upon arrival. I bumped into a group of friends and we purchased beers just as Blitzen Trapper began opening up. I’d heard of them, mostly good things, but I’d never heard them. They were good, and so was the sound, but it wasn’t loud enough to compete with the scintillating conversation going on around us. Also, the singer was very short so that I kept wondering who was singing and then focusing what little attention I was capable of producing on other things. Like the venue itself. It’s huge, and we had reserved seats that were upstairs, so we toured the place in anticipation for the main show, which judging by the set-up was going to include lots of musicians.

We found our seats and got our drinks just as Sam Beam took the stage with his sister. The sound and the songs they played were spectacular. He’s obviously come a long way from Churchill’s Pub in Miami, and his voice has too. Beam’s voice has never really been the focal point of my adoration, but on this night, especially at the beginning of the show, I was blown away by it. His range is far smoother and more adept than I thought, and when he and his sister sung in simple harmony, they held everyone’s rapt attention. Band members slowly entered the fray until there were 5 more musicians on stage, but the sound never became saturated. Most of the songs, especially older ones, sounded different than they do on record. Sometimes this is a bad thing, especially if you are attached to a song sounding a certain way, but each new interpretation was just as tasteful as the original, and often even better.

My only gripe was that the show was a bit brief, and there was only a single encore before the lights came on and the cattle prods were unleashed. It was Sunday night, so no after-hours club, but apparently everyone involved with the show had late dinner reservations or were in desperate need to get home. I lingered briefly, hoping to get a chance to possibly bump into Sam Beam one more time, so maybe we could do something as silly as reminisce as about the good old days in South Florida. But he seems to be onto bigger and better things, judging by the size of the tour bus behind the theatre, not to mention the great performance of which I enjoyed every waking moment.

The Scene Binge Begins

Tue, 18 Nov 2008 02:23:00 +0000

The Sea and Cake have been around for a long time. Since I was in high school, I think, which is exactly what I meant by the last sentence. They were one of those bands that people always told me about but I never got around to actually seeing live. This is largely due to spending a healthy majority of my life in Miami, a black hole of a music scene and a bit of a stretch for any bands not headlining arenas. Every now and then I’d get lucky, but most of the smaller bands or artists that I liked never made it south of Atlanta or Gainesville. I understand that many Americans live in rural areas where no bands ever go, which I’m sure is difficult for music-loving youngsters, but Miami is different because it is a big city with a small town selection of music.

I was fully reminded of this last week in Boston when I randomly bumped into an old friend of mine from Miami at The Sea and Cake show at the Middle East. He was in town visiting his fiancée for barely a week, and he couldn’t believe how many shows he was preparing to see. He actually coat checked his luggage after coming straight from Logan.

“Dude,” he said, “You must come here all the time. There are shows every night here!”

”Sure,” I said, though that’s not exactly true. I live an hour and change from either Boston or Providence. Laziness and the inefficient gas economics of my cargo van usually keep me from becoming a regular in either scene. But hearing the enthusiasm and wonder in the voice of an old indie-loving friend who had struggled equally through the dearth of quality shows in a major market has got me calendar circling once more. This will of course provide ample blog fodder for me as I provide you with wildly inconsistent and barely coherent analysis of the shows I see on my new solid music scene binge of the Northeast. Heck, we’ve even got our own Portland out here up in Maine, though I think it is officially frozen from now until April. And speaking of officially, let’s go ahead and get started with our music scene binge analysis.

Highlights from The Sea and Cake show at the Middle East in Boston

- The venue itself! Finally a decent sound at comfortable levels. Some shoe-gazers were prudently sporting ear plugs, but I kept mine in my pocket. Cheers as well to good beers on tap and a TV behind the bar so we didn’t have to miss the thrilling conclusion to the Celtics/Hawks game between sets.

- Running into bass player/artist Eric Claridge before the show. Not only is Claridge a way better bass player than you realize, but he’s also a very nice guy. My Miami friend swore that he had seen The Sea and Cake in Miami years ago, but Claridge helped prove my point by affirming that his band had never played there, nor would they likely be heading there anytime soon. Turns out my friend had been to a Tortoise show, which is still pretty cool for any place, especially Miami.

- Tight schedule. There were 3 bands on the bill, and they all played on time. This might make me seem even older than my earlier high-school reference, but I am secretly thrilled when bands start on time and everybody gets home at a decent hour. Of course, I didn’t actually get home at a decent hour, because when in Boston…

- The Sea and Cake are exactly as tight live as they are on their records. Though Sam Prekop’s vocals were a tad on the indecipherably soft side, the sound and the set were absolutely top notch. Nobody smashed an amp or tossed a drum stick, but the selections covered plenty of ground and got my head nodding. I was so fired up emo-style that I even spilled my beer attempting to applaud an encore song while still trying to appear slightly indifferent.

- 15 bucks. For 3 bands, one of which is indie-rock royalty, 15 dollar tickets at the door are the biggest bargain this side of a sweatshop. Not even your cheap friends can come up with an excuse for skipping shows like these. And now that I have my scene binge going, I’m giving up on excuses too.

XLR8R: In Good Company

Mon, 17 Nov 2008 23:48:00 +0000

It’s an honor to be considered in the company of producers like John Vanderslice, Efrim Menuck, and Chris Coady. This month in XLR8R magazine (http://www.xlr8r.com/magazine/122) I was featured along with indie rock’s finest, showcasing the producers, the techniques, and the studios from which they work.

John Vanderslice has been an inspiration for me with his pop-sensibility and attention to detail with not only his own work, but with others’ as well, in his role as a producer. His versatility shows in wearing many hats in the studio. I have been aware of John’s studio Tiny Telephone since I saw him at a Tape Op conference in Nawlins. At Tiny Telephone, John and Scott Solter pushed analog recording with their Neve 5316 and Studer 827 for up and coming artists in San Francisco while Digidesign, conveniently located just down the street, was taking the studio world by storm with their digital editing suite called Pro Tools. Word eventually got out and they ended up hosting the likes of Spoon, Death Cab for Cutie, Beulah, and Okkervil River.

I was actually more familiar with Efrim Menuck’s work in the band Godspeed You Black Emperor than I was with his work as a producer and studio owner. But you have to believe that with a band as sonically rich as Godspeed is, there had to be some ‘heads’ at work. I was given their album ‘Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven’ by a friend of mine back in college and was blown away by the assaulting wall of sound, which at the time was revolutionary. Efrim went on to start Thee Silver Mt Zion, in contrast to Godspeed, including vocals. Efrim’s studio Hotel 2 Tango, started as a living space, then turned into a performance space, and finally with the addition of 24 track Studer A820 tape machine and Neotek Series II console, turned into the recording studio that exists today. Bands of note that have visited are Arcade Fire, The Dears, Handsome Furs, and Wolf Parade.

Chris Coady’s work on Grizzly Bear’s Yellow House, being one of my favorites of 2006, gave me immediate respect for his treatment of layers and space. But Chris also knew how to get those punchy rock and roll sounds working with bands like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and TV on the Radio. He has been on the rise in Brooklyn for the past 6 years, collaborating with elder statesmen Blonde Redhead, who I have listened to since college as well; and now a newly furnished studio of his own called DNA. We share something in common: our love for the SSL sound. Chris and I both seem to agree that everything that comes out of the console pops. With lots of great outboard gear and a good vibe, Chris has built himself a home that many bands will feel good about.

We have been working hard here in Montana to get our name out there and looks like it’s working with write-ups like this. I guess we should stay the course. A note: There were a few misquotes in my interview as I talked via the phone with XLR8r and my responses apparently got lost in translation. First I would clarify that the bleed in the analog world not an obvious artifact (like from copper wires being close to each other) but more of an ethereal one. In fact, I would emphasize that the difference has more to do with the digital side of the things being so discreet. Second, the basic principals of acoustics are ABSORPTION, REFECTION, and DIFFUSION.