played a show at nanahari. thanks to the venue for having me.
thanks also to everybody who came out. it was wonderful seeing you all.
and much thanks to Uccelli and Your Last Chicken for agreeing to play the show.
man, it was a fine evening. man, i drank too much.
i planned the show to roughly coincide with my birthday. getting older is no big deal, but i've never enjoyed celebrating it. this was maybe the best way i could have done it. my heartfelt gratitude goes to everybody who took the time to come out and indulge me.
before the show, i actually played another, 4-hour show with hashigo in nikotama. thanks to that, the old voicebox was pretty ragged by the end of the evening. oops.
Uccelli did a sound collage set, mixing piano with computer-based samples, noise, etc. you can check out this site to hear examples of what he does, but really he does lots of different stuff. back in the day, under a different name, he helped record and edit ("produced", i suppose you'd say) a CD i did with iori shiranui. one of the songs off of it called "yayakoshii" is linked to above.
Your Last Chicken is an acoustic-based trio. i can't praise these musicians enough. their taste, their arrangements, their songwriting, their musicianship... all impeccable. the lineup is male vocalist & acoustic guitar, multi-instrumentalist (guitar, cello, violin, etc.) who also sings backup (male), and percussionist/drummer who also sings backup (female). subdued and excellent. their MySpace is here, and their blog is here.
to mark the event today, i recorded a CD of cover songs to give to everybody who came. it was only available for the one day. this is an experiment i may repeat some time. it feels good to be able to give something to people. and i feel that limiting it adds feeling to it.
in general, it seems to me that, especially in our time, music has become too easy to come by. things that come easy are valued that much less. having songs or even whole albums that will only exist for a short time, even just a day, and then vanish again, seems closer to what music fundamentally is — it happens and disappears instant by instant.
i can imagine, for example, writing a song and announcing that i'll only play it one time in front of people, on such and such a day, and that it won't ever be recorded or otherwise made public. if you knew you were only going to hear something once in your life, you'd fully take it in — at least that's the theory. even if the song weren't all that great, it'd become a better song in listeners' perception by virtue of scarcity (maybe).
in such a situation i think i'd ask people not to record the performance (though in principle i suppose they'd be free to if they chose). it's not that i'd want to choke it off or restrict things, but rather that, with recording introducing the possibility of listening again later, the experience itself wouldn't be as valuable.
or is this whole line of thinking too weird?
n-e-way. upcoming shows include:
for details, the schedule page is over here.