Hands of Kali

As much as I dig the national and international acts, what’s REALLY cool is discovering hidden talent in your own backyard. 

That’s Hands of Kali.

A few months ago, Vic and I were at a mutual friends’ birthday party on Capitol Hill. We were told, by all means, to come early enough to ‘see the bellydancers’.  Well, sure, why not?  It’s an art form I know little about but I appreciate it when I see it.  Vic and I were talking a little shop over by the bar when the music came on and two stunning, lithe, black-clad women quietly stepped to the center of the room.  For the next while, I was captivated.  I couldn’t categorize their vibe; “belly dance” doesn’t begin to cover it.  The music was industrial and Goth in flavor, and the dancers, in their black tops, flowing skirts, silver jewelry, and elaborate tattoo work spoke to that as well.  But their performance!  Flowing.  Alluring.  Tantalizing.  Dark without being black.  Precise, yet organic.  Tribal, yet refined.  Modern and timeless.  And underneath it all, mischievous smiles, real and unforced, that spoke of a true passion for what they do.  If the sound of a midnight waterfall under a full moon could be given human form, I imagine it would be Hands of Kali. 

“I want them to perform at my birthday party,” says Vic.  Cool, says I.

“I want them to perform to one of our songs.  Faith.”   It’s one of our collaborations. Vic provided the lyrics and direction; I gave it musical form. 

Pause.  Sip drink.  Sip again.  Do the math. We are going into the studio in a week or so, but the singer we wanted to perform the song can’t make it.  Can our newest vocalist pull it off with only a few days’ prep?  If she can, we can have a working mix by Vic’s party.  Mentally cross fingers.  Big gulp of drink.  “Sure.  Go for it.” 

Vic makes the arrangements.  Anika, being the killer singer she is, pulls it off.  It takes us longer than I like to get them a mix of the tune, but I’m out of town for a good chunk of March. 

Vic’s party arrives. 

I’ll admit.  I’m nervous.  Not like anyone but me and Vic and Kendra and Deidra know it’s our song.    I just don’t want it to sound weird or wrong or out of place in their performance. 

Kendra and Deidra take the floor, looking as mysterious and striking as I remember from last time.  They begin.  And again I am taken to the midnight waterfall. 

The keyboard intro to Faith kicks in at some point.  My heart skips a beat.

Deidra performs a veil dance.  All eyes are on her the whole time as she gives a sensual, unhurried, almost sorrowful interpretation to the song.  I think Vic and I are grinning at each other like naughty schoolchildren the whole time.  Not because it’s our song… but because Hands of Kali were able to take it and make it much more. 

Deidra, Kendra…. that was awesome.  Thank you.  We would love to help you out in the future, whatever that may look like.  Always happy to support another local artist. 

And if you should find yourself in a place where you can attend a Hands of Kali performance… don’t hesitate. 

You will love it.

You may even get a preview of some of the music from our next release…

-anoN

Ego

I won’t lie.  I have a massive ego. Big enough to take up the entire room and keep going if you open the windows.

Just not in the way you might think.

Seems that you can’t open up the paper or a browser without seeing some celebrity shooting their mouth off about how cool they are and how they think things ought to be.  Their words are colored with the inescapable notion that they think themselves the most important thing in the universe, much like former-day astronomers thought the earth was the center of all things. 

You know what?  That’s not ego.  That’s vanity.  Or narcissism.  Or narcotics.  Or more likely, insecurity run amok.  Maybe all of the above. 

No, my ego is based on a very simple notion.  That my sense of self doesn’t depend on what others think of me. 

And it’s a place of power. 

All artists have to be egoists to some degree.  Human beings create simply because it’s what we do.  Did you make dinner tonight?  If you didn’t take it out of a box, you created something.  Artists are just people who think that other people might like their creations.  That takes a lot of chutzpah, when you think about it.  I mean, what makes an artist’s expression more compelling than anyone else’s?  You have to believe in yourself.  Because there’s far more people that will tell you you’re wasting your time than will encourage you.  And yeah, that means I believe in this band, the songs I write, and the people in the project. 

But my outsized ego also means I don’t have to be ‘right’ all the time.  And that’s a good thing.  Ever watch or listen to an artist who had to have their own way on every little detail?  They may in fact be very good at what they do.  But they will eventually reach the end of their ability.  And if they can’t get over themselves, they have to live in a self-created delusion or it all comes down.   Forget that.  Life is too short for self-imposed prisons. 

Nah, I’d rather have the singers tell me they don’t get one of my songs.  Or a collaborator tell me that I’m off the rails with the arrangement or the keyboards or that’s a dumb guitar riff anyway.  The goal is good music.  And I really don’t care how we get there as long as the end product is made of 100% awesome.  If we’re doing that, then there’s plenty of room for everyone else’s input.  I am not lessened by this.  If anything, we all become more for it.  And the next song just gets that much more awesome. 

Don’t get me wrong.  I’d rather be friends.  I’d rather you think well of me.  I’d rather you like the tunes. 

But if it’s not to be, it’s not to be. 

I can live with that.

-anoN    

Vocals, session 1.

I should never be allowed in front of a mic, ever.  But just because there’s no guitars to record doesn’t mean I get to slide.  There’s a lot of brainwork involved, a lot of listening, a lot of giving guidance.  Not like the singers don’t know what they’re doing.  They do.  They come prepared.  But sometimes even the best ideas don’t sound quite right when you hit tape.  And sometimes the best ideas don’t come easily or from one person.  Sometimes, the coolest vocal cut happens at the end of a frustrating 5-hour session when you’ve changed it up a dozen times. 

That’s what gives you the best end result, though.  Give and take.  Taking a few steps back to see what makes sense.  Trying everything.  Listening to everyone while trusting your gut. 

And Manhattans.  Thank you, Anthony.

Our guest singer A (we’ll call her that until she decides how much she wants to be a part of Shai Azul) kicked it off, with me, Chris, Anthony, and Vic sitting in the control room.  She knocked out All Fall Down – a midtempo, riff-heavy, pulsing tune – in about 2 hours, complete with a harmony part I wasn’t expecting and a middle section that kicks the whole thing up a notch.  Both A and Tanya seem to dream in harmonies, which is pretty cool since that’s my weakest thing.   But they’re both different.  Tanya’s harmonies tend to be melodic and pretty.  A comes up with stuff that’s eerie and unexpected, while still being feminine.  Next song – Faith, one of Vic’s tunes.  It’s a slower tempo, hypnotic tune, and we wanted to get a cut of it for Vic’s birthday party.  Ask him why.  Since Tanya couldn’t make it, A gave it a whirl.  And added another cool unexpected harmony.  Last song of the day – House of Cards.  This one is admittedly a fast tempo, heavy pop tune, but for as short as it is, the choruses have proven a bit tonally elusive for everyone.  A found it, but we still felt like we were missing something.  We threw Oily in front of the mic since he showed up around this time.  And realized that it was his melody double we were missing.  One day, 2 tunes solid, one tune with a firm foundation.  And Greek for dinner.  Good day. 

Sunday was just me, Chris, and Oily.  Oily started off working on Defiled – one of my angry tunes that definitely shows off my thrash metal roots.  He didn’t really feel like he was getting it as well as he could, so we set down some basic tracks with the goal of working on it in a few weeks.  In listening back to the scratch vocals… there’s a lot that worked.  Oily is a perfectionist in the studio.  It’s not enough to nail the performance…he wants to ‘get’ the tune; to sink his teeth into it.  Defiled is close, for sure.  We spent the rest of the day on Oily’s song, Xs For Eyes.

Let’s talk about that song a bit.  It channels mine and Oily’s metal kid in a big way.  It’s a blast beat, sonic onslaught.  It’s the furthest we’ve ever pushed a tune in Shai Azul musically and lyrically. It’s a chance for Oily to cut loose. It is probably even toxic to plants and small animals.  It is also made of 100% awesome.  I am really curious to see the response to this one when it comes out.

One weekend, 3 tunes solid, foundations for another two… yeah, I like that progress.  We’ll revisit all the tunes again in a few weeks.  You have to do that; gives everyone a chance to listen, digest, and get annoyed enough with what they didn’t like about their performance to want to fix it. 

Now we just need to shake Tanya out of Boise for a few weekends. 

-anoN    

Work.

It’s been weeks since I reported on Shai Azul.  Which is lame.  There’s lots going on.  We go into the studio next weekend to lay down vocal tracks.  The instruments are done.  Vic, Oily, and I are already talking about CD number 3 and side projects.  We’ve decided on a new image for the band which, while not wildly different from the present look, fits us way better. 

I’ve just been too exhausted of late to write, blog, or Tweet about it. 

Like most aspiring musicians, I am presently working a day job.

And like most aspiring musicians, there’s a part of me that hates it.

It’s not like working a day job is anything new.  Being a full-time musician, for most of us, is taking a vow of poverty.  Sure, the top-earners are wearing Versace and vacation in Paris. Ain’t reality for most of us. Even a top-drawing local band is only making play money in the grand scheme of things.  And music costs money.  Want a guitar that doesn’t go out of tune?  Pony up $600 at a minimum.  Want a good, reliable amp?  Kick in a grand.  And don’t get me started on studio costs. The second disc is going to set me back about 3-5 large.  And that’s with the friend discount. 

So yes, after almost three years, I have returned to corporate America for a while.  By choice.  I’m in a situation where I don’t “have” to work…but the extra income is the tipping point in my little family.  Even if I were to walk away from the job right now (that won’t happen), it’s generated enough resources to pay for the next recording and upgrade some gear.  I dig my new synth.  It’s going to be all over CD number 3. 

I even really like the place I am working at and the people I am working with.  Learning lots of useful skills and staying out of trouble.  Being a contractor, however, isn’t so much fun.  Ever wonder why companies are reporting record profits and unemployment is still at 9%+?  Part of that, in my less than humble, is that many entities have discovered that they can get the same amount of work out of a contractor for half of what an employee would cost.  My Other (another contractor) encounters this at her workplace as well. Contractors don’t get much in the way of benefits, and sometimes, it almost feels like your nose is getting rubbed in it. It’s also hard to shake the occasional feeling that people in other departments know I have a limited shelf life, and maybe aren’t as civil as they normally would be because of it.

Still.  My immediate co-workers are a hundred different levels of awesome, and they take care of me.  And I reciprocate the best way I know how – work hard, solve problems, and kick ass.

I am reminded, though, of how hard it is to balance full-time work and full-time musical aspirations.  Work demands brainpower, focus, and attention to detail.  Music demands creativity, forward motion, and technical excellence.  And last time I checked, there was still only 24 hours in a day. 

I used to work a full-time job and be in 4 bands.  My Other and my friends also remind me that I was miserable, prickly, and never had time to do anything fun.  And that was also 10 years ago.

You know, I can’t really complain.  All things being equal, things are good. Shai Azul is moving forward, I can pay for it, I get to work at a place I’ve always wanted to work at, and I’ve even figured out how to cycle in (at least to downtown) a few times a week. Even if that does mean a 5:15am alarm.

But if you and I are at a party, and I should nod off on you…nothing personal. Just tired.  That alarm goes off awfully early most days. 

Because, like most aspiring musicians, I am presently working a day job. 

-anoN    

Persona

A good friend asked me why I bothered to go by ‘anoN’ a few weeks ago. 

It’s a fair enough question.  Not like most of you don’t know who I am. 

And so far, I have answered it with something snarky.  Like “Why not?” or “I wanted to.”  I have also taken on the pseudonym as an ironic, paradoxical play on the anonymity of the Internet, which is our main source of band information. 

And those responses are true. 

I got a chance to reflect on that a little more this past week, when my Other and I went up to Victoria, Canada for a few days post-Christmas.  It’s becoming a ritual; we’ve been up 7 times since we got married.  And it’s amazing what sort of state of mind you can get into when it’s helped along by cocktails mixed from 100+ year old recipes.  (Shameless plug:  If in Victoria, get drinks and food at Clives’ in the Chateau Victoria.  Have a sipper like your great, great grandparents used to enjoy.  It will NOT be fruity and sweet; it will taste like booze.  And you will like it.)

And I realized that the biggest reason I go by ‘anoN’ in this project goes back a ways.

When I first started writing songs, I wrote with a specific purpose and goal.  I consciously shaped my artistic expressions around these values.  And I did that for quite some years.  The bands changed; the purpose and goal did not. 

Times changed… I changed.  Things that used to make sense didn’t anymore.  And things that made no sense seemed less opaque. 

And by the time Shai Azul came into being, I didn’t want to write with a specific purpose and goal anymore. 

Thing is, this purpose and goal shaped a lot more than just music.  It shaped ME.  And not in a bad way.  The person most of you know is who I am because of that journey. 

I’m just… not sure how much of that applies anymore.  Times changed.  I changed.

And for some dumb reason, taking on a persona makes it easier to understand what all that means in the here and now.  It certainly encourages creative freedom.  Even were I to throw out all the false starts and half-written ideas, there’s 2 more discs worth of lyrics already to go. 

To quote a Stevie Winwood song, I’m the same boy I used to be.  Quick to smile and laugh; overly optimistic if prone to worry; enjoys a good drink; empathetic; wants to help; cares that his friends are doing well. 

But the blood, viscera, and thunder that’s coming up on the next CD?  That’s there, too.  Always has been.

It’s just getting a voice now. 

Happy New Year.  I hope your 2011 will be everything you hoped and dreamed it could be.

-anoN, also known as Tony by some.