Why Did I Read It?

Although I’m not a fan of the term, I guess that I am a bit of a Civil War buff. I don’t dress up in period clothing and participate in reenactments, but I have read quite a bit about the Civil War, have listened to David Blight’s excellent iTunesU series on the Civil War many times, and have watched the entire Ken Burns’ 9-part The Civil War PBS series more than a handful of times.

Every book, documentary, and college class lists Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe as one of the most important causes of the Civil War. The book was a huge sensation when it was published and for years afterward–it was the second best-selling book of the 19th century, after The Bible. To this day, it is one of the best-selling American books in the country’s history.

But it seems that even Civil War buffs don’t read the book anymore. History and literature courses don’t assign the book any longer. It’s become something that has to be mentioned but is no longer required to be read.

I wanted to know what it was about this novel that made it so popular. There are few books that actually do change the world. This is one of them. Is it worth reading today?

My big takeaways

Whoa, this country once supported slavery. Uncle Tom’s Cabin is correctly labeled a “sentimental novel.” It aims at its readers’ emotions and their sense of right and wrong. As a modern reader, it made me realize how completely crazy it is that this country once supported a system of slavery. Sure, I knew about it, but I didn’t really know it that was I do now that I’ve read the book. In re-creating the American in which slavery existed, back when it existed, Stowe brought that world for me into the 21st century in a way that images, history books, or documentaries never could. I think a lot of people go through life without really thinking about the fact that slavery was a real thing. And truly, as a 21st-century reader, that a system of slavery actually existed here would be completely unbelievable if we didn’t know that it actually was the case. This book made me feel our shared past much more than before. And it made me sick.

But the novel also has its funny parts. Even with all of the scenes that made me feel ill inside, the most surprising thing about the book for me was how pleasurable it was to read at times. I laughed out loud at a few passages. I was reminded that Uncle Tom’s Cabin is a novel, not a pamphlet. To pull readers in, it has to introduce real characters, and real characters laugh and joke and are pleasant, just as much as they get angry, or fight, or feel despair. Just like real humans. Overall, Stowe is a pretty entertaining novelist and storyteller, especially in the first half of the book–before the most gruesome and repugnant scenes–when it often reads like a Dickens novel…with slaves.

It’s the economy, stupid. Someone who only knows the book as an abolitionist, anti-slavery novel might think it’s all about evil slavers who whip and torture and commit terrible atrocities. Certainly, there is that, but the two plantation owners of the first two-thirds of the book are presented as kind, good masters who have real qualms about slavery, but don’t know how to change it. They are trapped economically. They can’t find a way out without completely upsetting their economic-social order. Northern non-slave holders are also under attack, and one of the most effective attacks is on a New York creditor whose southern debtor declares bankruptcy and must put up for auction all of his possessions. Some of these possessions are slaves, two in particular a mother and her young daughter, who are separated when sold to different masters during the auction. Stowe describes the norther banker as being “a Christian man, and a resident in a free state.” He “felt some uneasiness on the subject. He didn’t like trading in slaves and souls of men,–of course, he didn’t; but, then, there were thirty thousand dollars in the case, and that was rather too much money to be lost for a principle” (Chapter 30).

One can see why it took the bloodiest war in American history to undo slavery. And how many social justice issues today are blocked because it the cost would be “rather too much money to be lost for a principle”?

Religion was vital to the abolition of slavery. It’s difficult for me to make connections between 19th-century religious fervor and 21st-century religious fervor because, well, religion is a really touchy subject for people, and really isn’t my topic. But one thing that is certain is that religion was one of the key drivers for most of the progressive reforms in the 19th century. The book will make you think about the role of religion in 19th century life compared to its role today, both in the larger, political/social life, and in our personal lives. Tom is victorious at the end, according to Stowe, because of his absolute conviction in the afterlife and in his religion. And it is that religious fervor that is responsible for a great deal of the anti-slavery fervor in pre-Civil War America for destroying slavery forever.

Should you read this book?

This was a really difficult book for me to read. There is a great deal of it, especially at the very end, that is truly of its place and time, including a long letter by one of the escaped slaves of the novel, George Harris, who wants to move his family to the colony of Liberia and return to Africa (for more on the colony of Liberia, Simon Schama’s Rough Crossings is a great start). But the book really affected me–its power–even today–is in how it makes you bear the weight of history on your shoulders.

My recommendation:

• If you are a “Civil War buff” who always wondered what the novel is like, yes it is definitely worth your time.
• If you enjoy 19th century American lit–Hawthorne, Poe, Melville–yes, you should give it a try.
• If you are kind of interested in American history and feel like you’d like to dabble in some of the most famous works of American literature, maybe but there are a lot of other places I would start.
• If you’re going to the beach and need some pleasure reading, no.

Michigan teenagers reacted with outrage, citing that the ban infringes on their rights enshrined in the Constitution. In a press conference following the signing of the bill, the President of the National Teens for Texting While Driving Association, Jane Lapeer, gave a controversial speech, offering an alternative solution to the safety problems that the cell phone control law is meant to address. She noted that restricting cell phone use will actually make the roads more dangerous, because, says Lapeer, “without cell phones how will teens keep their attention behind the wheel and not fall asleep or drift off because school was soooo boring today.”

Her plan calls not for a ban on cell phone use when driving, but for more cell phone use. She cites that teens with cell phones can better monitor themselves, by reporting teens driving like “total jerks.” “The only thing that stops a bad teen driver with a cell phone,” said Lapeer, “is a good teen driver with a cell phone.”

Lapeer’s plan calls for having a teen driver with a cell phone in every car in America. “You’ll never really stop every teen from using a cell phone in a car. And by restricting other teens from using cell phones, you’re allowing that one teen with a cell phone the opportunity to cause maximum mayhem, with no one stop him.”

Lapeer also called for a state-wide database of teens who scored poorly on the MEAP (Michigan Educational Assessment Program) tests as a way of monitoring bad teen drivers who could cause accidents while using their cell phones. “Those are the students we need to watch,” said Lapeer, “because they are bad kids and more likely to be careless when driving while using a cell phone than the rest of us.”

Lapeer ended the speech by citing the many television programs and movies where teens are driving and texting irresponsibly as a cause for the fatalities on the road. “I love my shows, but there are teens using their cells in cars all the time–to look up information to solve a mystery, to finding out that they just got dumped, or to check to see if a cute boy posted a new pic. Showing this kind of behavior is irresponsible and gives teens the wrong example. They need to be able to learn to check Facebook while driving the safe way. Our culture is really to blame.”

Inbox Zero / Personal Productivity

Other than the continuous support and friendship of my wife, family, and close friends, nothing has changed my life more in the past 365 than getting serious about how I do my work. Not just my job work, but how I get the things done in my life on a day by day basis. To me, the definition of “personal productivity” is when you take how productive you are personally. To that end, I have instituted practices that help me waste less time and finish more projects. It’s seriously been life changing, and the best thing is that I can never go back to the old way of doing things. I can only get better at getting things done.

Inbox Zero is just one of the many practices I’ve instituted. Here’s a video–well worth the entire 59 minutes–about Inbox Zero:

And that guy in the video? His name is Merlin Mann. He also makes my list of best things in 2012:

Merlin Mann

I’ve known about that Inbox Zero video for a couple of years now, and have read Merlin’s 43 Folders site, which focuses on personal productivity. But it was this year that I discovered all the other things this super funny and smart guy produces, and honestly, at least 75% of the podcasts I’ve listened to over the past year have involved Merlin Mann in some way.

I’ve listened to over a hundred hours of these two shows in 2012:

Back to Work

On Dan Benjamin’s 5by5 network of podcasts, “Back to Work” is a conversational podcast between Merlin and Dan about issues concerning personal productivity, work, life, getting unstuck, understanding the social constraints we all live in, doing the work you want to do, following your passion (but in a muscular, determined way, not a self-help way) and lately, comics. Come for the wisdom and insight, and stay for the jokes and comedy bits that Merlin and Dan rehash every week. They just finished episode 99. I’ve listened to every one of them–many twice or three times. (Subscribe on iTunes)

Roderick on the Line

Merlin is long-time friends with John Roderick, Seattle-based musician and the guy behind the band The Long Winters. But that description I just gave does not even come close to describing the man, and the way he thinks. “Roderick on the Line” is even looser than “Back to Work,” and has no pre-defined  topics or goals, other than sharing their unconventional philosophies of life and almost unbelievable life experiences. File this one under one of the best podcasts of two people having a conversation trying to make each other laugh. Supertrain! (Subscribe on iTunes)

Hot Chip

In music, this year was absolutely dominated by Hot Chip. I liked Hot Chip before this year, but 2012 was the year they made my top ten of all time. I listened to “In Our Heads” over and over and over and over. You should too.

David Blight’s “Civil War and Reconstruction Era” Yale Open Course

This is a hold over from last year, but I did listen to all 17 episodes of David Blight’s Civil War and Reconstruction course from Yale Open Courses again this year, all downloadable for free on iTunesU.

There are a lot of free courses from Yale Open Courses you can listen to, from some of the most interesting and engaging profs in the country. But this one I come back to over and over again. Blight is a natural storyteller, and can tell his stories with the voice that makes it feel like you’re listening to an American History Homer. He’s also funny, and as a former Michigander, has more than a couple jokes/stories about the mitten state. If you love history, even if you know quite a bit about the Civil War, this class is definitely worth your time. (Subscribe on iTunes)

So these are the things that I spent a lot of my times on this year, and looking back, they were all well worth it!

Let me know if you have any suggestions for me, for 2013.

And Happy New Year!

Your pal,

Scotter

After the election was over, I felt a great relief. I like to think of myself as a centrist, but compared to half of the people in this country, I’d have to admit that I’m pretty Liberal, and as such, politicians who I tend to agree with did pretty well this past election. But even before Obama was officially voted in for his second term, I was having an internal dialogue with myself nearly every day, trying to figure out if I supported Michigan Governor Rick Snyder enough to actually put one of his signs on my front lawn in 2014.

I liked what I had seen from Snyder over the past two years. There were some things I disagreed with. He is a pro-business Republican, which means his worldview is founded in a religious trust that corporations and businesses are what make the world a better place, and that government programs are generally bad. Michigan’s low-income families have not done well under the Snyder administration so far. Corporations, on the other hand, have done quite well.

But compared to neighboring Conservative demagogues like Scott Walker in Wisconsin, and counter to the circus that is the Detroit City Council, Snyder has seemed to me to be fair, moderate, and patient. He vetoed the most politically driven parts of a Republican voter ID bill on the grounds that it would restrict the democratic process. He is committed to building a second bridge to Canada, openly battling against the billionaire owner of the Ambassador Bridge, Manuel “Matty” Moroun, a man who has effectively bought Michigan representatives and senators–most of them of Snyder’s own party–in order to retain his bridge monopoly. Snyder is for public transit. And he’s willing to receive and use federal money if offered, which is something that other Republican governors elected in 2010 have refused. Most importantly, he took a rational stance against pushing against the unions of Michigan, saying that doing so would be divisive and would not be helpful in getting things done in the state.

Last week, he changed his mind on that issue.

The Worst Thing about the “Right-to-Work” Law

The most I want to get into the law itself is to explain why I put its name in quotation marks. There isn’t really a generic, non-partisan thing to call the set of laws that were passed by the legislature and signed by the governor this week. “Right to Work” is a politically framed word for what was passed, and deserves to be put into quote marks for that reason.

The worst part about the law is not so much what it does, although I disagree with it and think it’s a bad law. The worst thing about the law–what’s so unsettling about it–is the cold, executive efficiency in which the thing was done. Say what you will about Scott Walker in Wisconsin, but at least he gave Wisconsinites a fighting chance to battle the Conservative agenda he has been undertaking in that state. I used to say to people I know who live in Wisconsin things like “at least our governor is a moderate. He’s sensible. He’s about getting things done, not causing strife.” Now, I wish for the strife.

Even worse, Republicans added an appropriation into the law that effectively makes it immune from a ballot referendum process that could put it in front of Michigan’s citizens for an up-or-down vote…you know, the democratic process. How does that work? The Michigan constitution states that appropriations bills–bills where the legislature authorizes the use of public money for a specific purpose–are immune from a referendum. The appropriation grants $1 million of taxpayer money to be spent implementing “right-to-work,” so not only has this passed, but every Michigan citizen is paying for it to be spread and implemented just so that it can’t be put on the ballot in 2014.

What everyone knows is that this law and the Conservative laws on gun control, abortion rights, and voter ID that passed in a whirlwind overnight session that lasted until 4:30am, is that they never would have passed in January, when the newly elected Democrats are strong enough in number to block any legislation that is decided on party lines. To get things done, they’ll have to actually compromise.

The passing of the “Right-to-Work” bill doesn’t feel like Democracy. It feels like upper management passing down new policy by decree.

So What Does This Mean to Us?

You just can’t trust anybody these days. The faith I had in Snyder just two weeks ago is gone. Unless something drastically changes, I will not be putting up a “Rick Snyder for Governor” sign on my front lawn in 2014.

But what I will have to do–what we need to do if we’re seriously as mad as we say we are–is to not disengage with Michigan politics during non-election years. It means being politically active throughout the year, every week. It means getting involved in some way with Democracy in America. It means doing more than the bare minimum. To me, the bare minimum is voting. You may be sick of politics. You may be sick of infighting. You may be sick of the political ads and campaigns that interrupted your peace while you were relaxing watching TV after work or on the weekend. But if you’re really mad, and if you’re really serious, you have to not get sick of politics. It can be tough. It can be exhausting. But you can’t just tune in when something this big happens.

There were consequences leading up to the “Right-to-Work” law. One thing where I believe Snyder–and this is very telling of why we’re so mad–is when he says that this issue has been “divisive for some time now.” We’re all thinking that this came out of nowhere. But in that office in Lansing, Snyder has had an earful about this every day from Republicans in the legislature and their very rich pro-business backers, like the DeVos’s in Michigan and the billionaire Koch brothers. These people are always engaged in politics. Most of us tune out throughout the year. I know I have. I have a life. But there’s something in between being engaged in politics all the time, 24/7,  and tuning in every once in a while and voting every two years. Whatever it is that is in the middle of that is where we all need to get to.

Is there still a way to be a centrist?

I think getting involved in truly centrist politics is possible, but it means something different from being an “independent”; in other words, refusing to be a card-carrying Republican or Democrat. To me, a centrist is someone who is pro-democracy and wants the public good. If you don’t like the two-party system, if it makes you mad that there’s so much bickering in Washington and Lansing, there are two issues that we can all work for that will help:

1. Campaign Finance Reform

2. Abolish Gerrymandering

Republicans have gone way to the right, and Democrats way to the left, because that is where the people who fund their campaigns are. And campaigns are getting more and more expensive every election year. Under the current system, no one can get elected to a major office without private interest money and the lobbying machine. Period. This system needs reform and campaign finance reform will increase democracy and equal access to our lawmakers and politicians. Politicians have no advantage to passing campaign finance reform. The public good is impossible without it.

Gerrymandering, or partisan re-districting, allows the party in power in a state after a census year (every 10 years) to set the boundaries of the congressional voting districts. The party in power–Democrat or Republican–will always draw the lines to their advantage, and every time the lines are redrawn, the party in power gives itself a better chance of winning every subsequent election. Effective political redistricting has this effect: It groups Democrats and Republicans in bundles. It eliminates districts where the population may be split 50/50 politically, which means less debate.

The hardest thing about the short time citizens had to voice their opinions about right-to-work is that most people who are against it have elected officials who were already against it. If I lived in a non-gerrymandered district, split geographically instead of politically, half of my district would be more conservative than me. My representative would need to come up with solutions that compromised the viewpoint of his or her constituents. This is a good thing. But politicians have no advantage to creating a non-political redistricting process. Yet Democracy will be improved if gerrymandering is abolished.

We can demand better government from politicians on both sides. We can reduce the influence of powerful private interests. But only by replacing those powerful private interests with public interests that are stronger and more powerful.

The problem is that we all have to care a little bit more about it. And in our modern age, with all of its distractions and anxieties, that won’t be easy.

These were the first of many words The Tragically Hip’s Gordon Downie would give the crowd in between the lyrics he would be singing over the next two hours of music at the Fillmore in Detroit. The comment was in reference to the most notable show The Hip has played in Michigan, the show that eventually became the live album “Live Between Us,” released in May 1997.

But anyone in that theater tonight will tell you that tonight’s show was notable too, if nothing else than for being just as excellent as every other show The Tragically Hip play. The Fillmore was packed. It was tough to move about (now I know why the beers are so big, other than offering the theater the opportunity to overcharge). And it was quite the international crowd when you consider how many hockey jerseys were in the theater that night.

Yet Gordon Downie was pantomiming another sport–shooting imaginary layups during “Grace, Too,” for reasons the crowd could not understand. Downie is one of the most enigmatic front men I’ve ever seen. His strange form of dancing and jerky movements make him completely captivating on stage. No other performer I’ve ever seen is so possessed by the songs he sings, as if the sound and sense of the lyrics are transfiguring him, coursing through his blood stream…or his bowels. What is even more shocking about this band and this performer is that the lyrics he sings are some of the most literary as you’ll hear from any band as popular as they are, which, in Canada, is very popular. It almost seems they have a kind of U2 status and popularity in their native country.

And Downie’s stage banter is as fantastical as his band is steady and untiring. Perhaps only Dick Valentine of the Electric 6 banters better, except Valentine can’t be taken seriously. Downie says things you sometimes laugh at, and sometimes just have to think about. To wit:

“Detroit! It’s such a beautiful community! It is whatever your imagination says it is!”

“Go to the Frampton poster in your mind.”

“I promised myself I wouldn’t sweat tonight.”

“I used a lot of oxygen on that last tune.”

Somehow, some dude got shirtless and had someone hold him on their shoulders. Downie pointed at the guy and said, “Yeah! Margaritaville.”

In 25 years of being a band, it’s obvious that The Tragically Hip have not slowed down one bit. It makes you wonder how long they can keep this up. Their new album, Now for Plan A, is quite good–as was their last few albums, especially the underrated World Container.

What I am sure of is that I don’t think I will ever pass up the opportunity to see this band if they are playing anywhere near where I am. And that’s saying a lot for any band.

Setlist for Tragically Hip at Fillmore Detroit, November 28, 2012

Click here to see the setlist for Bob Dylan in concert at the Fox Theatre, November 13, 2012

When the lights came on to reveal Bob Dylan and his band already playing the show’s opening number “I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight,” it wasn’t easy to tell where Dylan actually was on stage. “Is that him playing the piano?” my wife asked, “Or is he singing from off stage?”

We were pretty far up, in the back. But I doubt even people in the ground floor had it much easier. Dylan and his band were spread out  on the huge Fox Theatre stage, but there was no spotlight on the star of the show to guide us where to look at any time, which is just how Dylan probably likes it.

This was the second time I have seen Dylan in concert, and it was a much better show for me because of it. Any fan from Gen X, Y, or Millenial times who has seen Dylan for the first time has often been disappointed with his refusal to address the audience, the way he completely changes most of the songs to the point that you can’t tell what song he’s singing until you hear some of the lyrics, and worse, his sometimes inaudible grumbling can be a turn off, and make it even more difficult to tell which song he’s playing, until he finally gets to the hook of the song.

But the second time is more of a charm. Your expectations are far lower. You know what you’re getting yourself into. It becomes a bit of a game to try to figure out what song he’s playing before everyone else does. He fooled me twice. The first time, when he played “Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall” to the basic tune of “Just Like a Woman.” The second time is when he played “Love Sick” but at first it sounded like “Forgetful Heart,” and then like “Ain’t Talkin’”. But I managed to pick out most of them before my fellow Dylan lovers.

And that is why we’re we there, whether it was your disappointing first Dylan show, your cautious second, or your seasoned third, fourth, or fifth. This guy may be an introvert, a bit hostile in interviews, and actively attempting to gall his audiences, but those songs are meaningful to you, and you know that his still-growing songbook is one of the best by any songwriter ever.

Particularly excellent tonight was his version of “Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright,” which had all the ironic gentleness of the original. But it was odd to hear him sing it. It was almost as if it was a completely different person–some wizened 71 year old–singing the song, not the near 21 year-old who wrote and recorded it.

Compare that with a song he played tonight from his newest album, Tempest. “I’ll Pay in Blood” might sound the most like a Tom Waits song, on an album where you think nearly every song could have been a Tom Waits song. But there was a bouncing quality to it–a skip in its step–that made it seem like it was written by a younger man. According to Harold Lepidus at The Examiner, this is only the third song from the new album he’s played in concert since its release. This was good news for me, as I was hoping to hear songs from the new one. Other treats were “Beyond Here Lies Nothing” from the underrated Together Through Life album, and two of my favorites from the last decade, “Mississippi” and “Thunder on the Mountain.”

The show ended with the old hits: a very Tim Burton soundtrack version of “Ballad of a Thin Man,” an almost joyous “Like a Rolling Stone,” and a hard-driving “All Along the Watchtower,” and encored with “Blowin’ in the Wind.”

I’m sure some people were disappointed. But I thought it was a great, mumblings and all, in a great venue, that made Dylan sound as good as he possibly could–much better than if he would have played The Palace, as originally scheduled.

Setlist for Bob Dylan at the Fox Theatre in Detroit, November 13, 2012

I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight
Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right
Things Have Changed
Tangled Up In Blue
Beyond Here Lies Nothin’
A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall
Pay In Blood
Love Sick
Highway 61 Revisited
Mississippi
Thunder On The Mountain
Ballad Of A Thin Man
Like A Rolling Stone
All Along The Watchtower

Encore:
Blowin’ In The Wind

Sloan’s Twice Removed: Almost drinking age

“I’ve been a Sloan fan for 5 days.”

This is what my wife said to Chris Murphy after the show when we got a chance to talk to him and Jay Ferguson in the St. Andrew’s foyer. This is after I nerdily declared my Sloan fanatic bona fides by quipping that the band should have ended the Twice Removed set with “D is for Driver,” a bonus track available only on the Japan release of the album.

“Um, how long have you guys been dating?” Chris asked my wife.

“We’re married.”

Chris gave me a quick, dubious look: “Why have you been keeping Sloan a secret?”

This is only the first time I embarrassed myself in front of Sloan in the 5 minutes we spent with Chris and Jay.

The second was when I asked Jay about the demo version of the song “Pretty Together,” which was included in Sloan’s rarities album B-Sides Win. He mentioned that the track could end up on a future album, with more of an ELO-type feel, at which point the extra $5 PBRs I shouldn’t have drank took over. “You guys should totally do an album where every song on the album is a title of your previous albums! That would be such a Dan Bejar-thing to do! You guys should totally do that!” and Jay gave me a look not different from the one Chris gave me after finding out that my wife has been a fan for less than a week.

It’s an odd experience to know exactly what songs a band is going to play at a show, especially when you have strong opinions about those songs. For example, I knew that I was going to go to the bar to get a beer when they played “Loosens,” and that I was going to take the opportunity to go to the restroom during “Before I Do.” What I didn’t expect was how freaking excited I was halfway through “Coax Me” that I realized I was going to actually hear “Bells On” played live! I mean, I knew all along they were going to play it, but the excitement of hearing “Bells On” live kind of came out of nowhere–completely unexpected. I imagine a lot of people felt the same way about their song on Twice Removed–you know it’s coming but, Holy Crap, they’re playing it next!

With that said, there are some songs that sound good on stage, and some that you don’t play live for a reason. I thought “Worried Now” sounded fantastic–the band had lots of energy and the abundance of electric guitar on the song was made for the stage. “Loosens,” “Shame Shame,” and “I Can Feel It”–not so much. Patrick brought an acoustic guitar out for “I Can Feel It,” and the band put most of the onus for singing the song on the audience. I took away from the song a bit, and a campfire and smores were probably necessary for the performance to be anywhere near as personal as the song is on the record.

But I have to say that my misgivings about the show were completely unfounded. Sloan was great, and the second set was particularly electric. Opening with a rousing performance of “Losing California,” the first four songs seemed to get every person in the audience singing and fist pumping. Some songs from their most recent release, The Double Cross, followed, but they ended, and then encored, with favorites from other albums, including quite a few from Between the Bridges and Navy Blues.

I was particularly pleased to hear “Ready for You,” one of my faves from Action Pact. After the show I told Chris I liked the choice and he alluded to the fact that in Canada they have to play all the hits, and that one of the great things about playing in the States is that they can reach back to other songs in their catalog, since most American fans are fans of the albums, not the singles. During the show,  Chris or Patrick (I can’t remember which) said to the audience something to the effect that among the different cities in the US, Detroit is one of the few places where everybody knows all the words (readers, feel free to confirm/deny that I heard that).

Can it be that Detroit has the best Sloan fans in the world?

If so, I’m not going to be the one to keep it a secret.

Set List

First set (Twice Removed):

Penpals

I Hate My Generation

People of the Sky

Coax Me

Bells On

Loosens

Worried Now

Shame Shame

Deeper Than Beauty

Snowsuit Sound

Before I Do

I Can Feel It

Second Set:

Losing California (Between the Bridges)

Who Taught You To Live Like That (Never Hear the End of It)

Keep on Thinkin’ (Navy Blues)

Friendship (Between the Bridges)

Beverly Terrace (The Double Cross)

Living in the Shadows of Love (The Double Cross)

Emergency 911 (Parallel Play)

She’s Slowin’ Down Again (The Double Cross)

Something’s Wrong (Never Hear the End of It)

Traces (The Double Cross)

Fading Into Obscurity ((Never Hear the End of It)

Witches Wand (Parallel Play)

Everything You’ve Done Wrong (One Chord to Another)

Ready for You (Action Pact)

Take Good Care of the Poor Boy (Between the Bridges)

Money City Maniacs (Navy Blues)

ENCORE:

The Lines You Amend (Navy Blues)

Chester the Molester (Navy Blues)

Feels Good Do It (Pretty Together)

Back at the old blog, many years ago, my friend Andrew couched his review of Steely Dan, Blue Oyster Cult, and Cheap Trick within the question of whether there’s value in the nostalgia circuit.

Andrew’s answer was “sometimes.” But my biggest takeaway from Andrew’s post is that seeing your favorite bands of old play in the present brings lots of mixed feelings. And while I’m excited about these three shows, I certainly have mixed feelings.

Sloan is playing tonight, coming to Detroit on their Twice Removed tour, where they’ll play their breakthrough album, Twice Removed, which was released 20 years ago.

20 years ago.

And cashing in they are…to an extent. To celebrate the 20th anniversary of TR you can buy on Sloan’s website a deluxe edition with a bunch of vinyl, demo versions of the songs, a large book of fun Twice Removedobilia, and even a “perfect replication” of the letter that inspired “Penpals.” All for a low cost of $89.99. It’s unclear if that’s $89.99 US or Canadian.

I won’t address the question of whether the band deserves to cash in or not, because I find that question irrelevant. If people want to buy it, they should buy it. I’ve personally spent $89.99 on worse things.

The real question is going to be what version of Sloan shows up for the nostalgia fest. If the set list from the Music Hall of Williamsburg show is any indication, there’s about  3-hours worth of some of my favorite songs ever to look forward to.  But I’ve been to Sloan shows where Patrick Pentland scowled the entire show, where Andrew refused to make eye contact with anyone, and the band seemed lifeless. I’ve also been to Sloan shows where all four members were completely electrifying and I was so blown away that I couldn’t talk about anything else for days. 21 years as a band is a long time. Either version of the band could be on stage tonight.

On the other hand, Bob Dylan is 71 years old. He’ll be playing the Fox Theater four days after the Sloan show. I had to think long before putting out for tickets to see Uncle Bob, mostly because I had seen him once and, I’ll be honest, I was kind of bored at the show. I saw him in about 2006 at a minor league baseball stadium in Maryland. It was a month before Modern Times was released, one of my favorite all-time Dylan albums.

That’s right, my favorite period of Dylan has really been his work from the last decade: “Love and Theft”, Modern Times, and his newest, Tempest. I have at least 10 posts worth of writing I could spend on why I love late-period Dylan so much, but what’s most interesting to our conversation here is that if you check Bob Dylan’s website–where they actually list his set list from every single show, night after night–you’ll find that he hasn’t played a single song from the new album.

Which brings us to an interesting paradox: If he’s like any other artist who is still making new music, he’d rather play the new songs. Yet, night after night, he dusts off “Blowin’ in the Wind,” to please the fans. That’s not so much cashing in as serving the servants.

And I am sure I’m in the minority on this, but I do not want to hear him play “Blowin’ in the Wind.” I don’t want to hear “Like a Rolling Stone.” I’ve heard these songs a million times, and while I admire them and all the other old ones, I’d like to hear the songs Dylan  hasn’t played a billion times. Play “Narrow Way.” Play that 14 minute song about the Titanic. Play Modern Times in its entirely!

But what I’m going to get is a nostalgia show from the guy I want one from the least.

The Tragically Hip doesn’t easily fit into the nostalgia category this go around, as they’re out promoting their new album, Now for Plan A. But the $40 ticket fee they’re commanding for the show is nostalgia pricing, especially if I’m stuck listening to mostly the new stuff, which isn’t bad, but insufficient for the occasion. If they mix in the new stuff with the hits and a good selection of deep cuts from their previous twelve studio albums, this may be the best show of the three. They’ve done it to me before. Seeing The Tragically Hip in Washington, DC, about 2005, was one of my top 5 shows of all time.

So, let us see. I’m ready to be wowwed. I’m ready to feel all those good old feelings. Or new feelings. And I’m equally ready to be disappointed. So let’s get nostalgic, and see what happens!

I’ll have my fingers crossed all month long.

The Free Press‘s excellent arts critic Mark Stryker followed Miss Smith around the DIA as she talked about some of her favorite paintings. For those unfamiliar with Miss Smith’s life, she sent many years living in the Detroit area as she raised her children with her husband Fred “Sonic” Smith of MC5 fame. She visited the museum often during her time in Detroit, so she’s no stranger to its formidable collection of art, spanning millennia and covering various cultures throughout history, its pieces residing in Detroit due mostly to the days when Detroit industrialists were some of the richest industrialists in the world.

Enough preamble. Here’s the part that caught my attention:

Stryker follows her into the Christian art wing of the museum, where she admires many of the icons and religious symbols. Knowing that she is not the religious type (this is the woman whose very first words sung on her debut album were “Jesus died for somebody’s sins but not mine”), Stryker asks why she responds so strongly to this kind of art. She answers:

“I love the art that came out of religion. One of Christianity’s greatest gifts was the art that came out of it. In the name of Christianity, there has been much horror, and one can talk about that, but that’s not on my mind. What’s on my mind is the beauty of the art, and how the New Testament stories have inspired artists. Just look at this work. It’s one thing after another. And what’s more beautiful in the end than Christ’s message: Love one another.”

The “love one another” stuff is fine, if not a kind of easy way to cap off the answer in a positive way, and maybe even a bit of a cop out. But what catches my attention here is Miss Smith’s ability to be in the moment with the art and push the historical baggage that caused its creation out of her way in order to appreciate it when confronted with it. I love how her words move from past tense to present: “there has been much horror…but that’s not what on my mind. What’s on my mind…” is what’s on her mind at that very moment, as she is caught in the wonder of a feeling she’s having in time, in the present, in appreciation of an object–you know, the feeling that art is kind of supposed to make you have. She was in a state of wonder.

Whenever I’m listening to an interview, or reading one, I always try to listen for, or look for, changes of tense. When a speaker changes tense in a sentence, that’s when things are really happening. In this world, there are only so many tiny cracks from which real light can escape, and too often we aren’t looking for them, we aren’t interested in catching them.

Artists do this for a living. It is a talent, a talent that must be practiced. It takes a lot of wherewithal to keep it up. You have to teach yourself to be on guard, the way that a medieval guard might have to stand awake at night to guard the castle. The problem with modern life in America is that we live it through a kind of sleepy haze. Our thoughts are cluttered and shooting out in multiple directions toward multiple desires. These thoughts are the haze–a fog–that makes it harder for us to really see clearly. And the more we are able to remove that haze at any one time, the better we can live in the moment. Art often helps us to remove the haze, but it can also happen–if you practice it–in normal life, in usual situations.

I’m afraid I’m starting to sound a little new age-y, so I’ll bring it home with one way this helped in my life. I was pulled into yet another meeting one day along with 20 other colleagues, to talk about some topic that was not relevant to the projects I was responsible for at that time. My colleagues obviously felt similarly, as nearly every person entered the door with a sigh or a shoulder shrug. As we sat down around the table and the meeting commenced, I pushed my chair back a bit to get a view of everyone sitting around, and looked just above everybody’s heads, at the space between us and the ceiling. It’s funny how seldom we really see the space the occupies the top of any room. The room would have to be filling with water for many to look up and see that a room packed with people is really only half full.

So I looked at that space above the room, and I thought of the thoughts in each person’s head filling that space. What was that space like? Was it a storm, cold fronts and warm fronts colliding, lightning, violent winds gusting with ferocity? Was it full of tiny invisible airplanes to tropical locations with the warmest beaches with the softest sands? Were the airplanes getting caught in the storms, or swerving left and right to avoid them? I’m not sure. But I noticed myself chuckling, and a few people around me looking at me quizzically. Nobody was smiling. Except me. I wonder what they thought was going through my head.

I interviewed Daniel in February at the Yessian Music studio where he works as a composer. Based on this interview, I wrote a piece about him and the making of the album which, unfortunately, never found the right publisher. But the interview–and the long view on life and art that Daniel shared with me that day–have stayed with me as I’ve worked my own way through the traffic of everyday life. As a result of this interview, I started to listen to music I had never listened to before. I started to give things a chance that once I was stodgily opposed to. The one-and-a-half hours I spent with Daniel on a crisp winter’s day in February kind of changed how I think about things. And this is why I wanted to publish our conversation to share with others. I hope that you readers may take something positive away from it too.

This is a very long post. It’s surprising to discover that, during 90 minutes of conversation, over 8,000 words or more can be spoken. To help those of you who may just want to browse around, I wrote headings for each section–some that clearly denote what we’re talking about, some that are vague but meant to pique your interests. You can skip around if you’d like, using the Table of Contents below, or just read right through. Either way, I hope you enjoy, and I hope you buy Daniel’s excellent album from iTunes or Bandcamp or from his website.

1. Let’s Begin with the New Album
2. Two Things this Record is Really About
3. An Education. Part 1: The Ministers’ Son
4. An Education. Part 2: Noisy Acres, or, Not “Saved” by the Bell
5. An Education. Part 3: The Judah Johnson Years
6. Versioning
7. Extracolor, One More Time
8. You Should Sing That Way All the Time
9. The Visuals, and the Instagraming of Modern Music
10. Lana Del Rey, and Why It Would Be Better for Haters if they didn’t Hate
11. In Conclusion: Music, the Meaning of Life, and the Whatever

Let’s Begin with the New Album

SCOTT: So, I thought we could start by talking about the album itself. When did you start writing these songs?

DANIEL: 2008…2009. We were living in this house in Royal Oak

S: Were these songs clumped together with the songs from your previous album, Lazrus, or part of a different project.

D: No, it was a different project. To me, this album is the album I tried to make with Lazrus, and thought I was making when I was doing Lazrus, which was a pop album with short songs, very accessible, with more synthesizers than usual. I was going to use more drum machines. When I listened to Lazrus, when it was all done, I thought, “I’m happy with it, but it’s not a pop album.” The track lengths are somewhat long. I ended up using real drums on it. It just wasn’t what I was trying to do. So Extracolor was following up on what I intended to do with Lazrus.

SCOTT: In your post announcing the album’s release, you write that it took a lot longer than expected to release the album because self-releasing an album is a lot of work. I was kind of under the impression that self-releasing an album is really easy these days. What don’t I know about this stuff?

DANIEL: Every step of the way, I had to do it. You’re calling in favors, or you’re getting people to do stuff at a cheaper rate because they’re doing it at night after their day job. So from mixing it, to getting it mastered, to getting the artwork done, to setting up the distribution channels, to soliciting press–all of that I had to do, and I had to knock one thing out before doing another. Normally you have a team of people who can either delegate that work or you already have those channels greased or already know how to do it. I mean, I had figure it out, I had to read up on it, and learn how to do it. Just mixing and mastering it alone took so long. I didn’t even get that done until the end of the summer. Once that’s done I was like “Oh! Now I have to come up with artwork for this,” and start talking to people and getting people interested.

S: Why did you name the album Extracolor?

D: Yeah, um…[pauses, then chuckles] Um. do you know what Salvia is? Salvia divinorum?

S: No.

D: It’s like this sage that people take. It’s like a hallucinogenic drug, but  it’s a clean drug–it doesn’t trigger your serotonin or anything. I did Salvia years and years ago. It’s an awesome drug, but it’s pretty intense. And the day after I did it, I had this poem pop into my head fully formed. And it’s the only poem I think I’ve ever written. And I use the word “extracolor” in there, and it stuck with me–this word. And when you try to name a record label or a band or an album, everything is taken. People have used every combination of words you can ever think of, but no one has used extracolor for anything. So I was surprised at that , but more to the point, there are two things this record is really about.

Two Things This Record is Really About

One is belief. I’m writing about belief almost through this whole record. I was raised in this family and this culture that takes belief too far. Everyone’s so hyped up on their opinions that they’re not getting along. It’s gotten involved in my relationship with my family. I mean, that belief can get between a father and his son, that’s ridiculous to me. So getting to a place beyond that is important. I hate the cliche of getting into the grey area, you know, don’t say things are black and white. Because grey just sounds boring. Grey’s just dull, right? But it’s really a place of more color than no color. So when you get past black and white it’s not about a dull grey zone. It’s about a really interesting, colorful zone. So it works in that respect.

And then, this is his is my black music record. This is me getting out all the black music I’ve been listening to since I was a kid, having Motown in my psyche and progressive hip-hop and R&B. I always thought I was capable of doing an R&B record and, now, I don’t think I can, but I think this is as close as I can possibly get. So it’s just about that. You know, the music I like is generally white people really influenced by black people, or black people really influenced by white people. It’s about getting to that exotic place. If Indie Rockers just subsist on a diet of Indie Rock, it begins to get this incestuous, inbred, death sound, but you don’t get that when you think about The Stones or The Beatles, who are white guys really influenced by black music. Or you think of The Roots, or Dilla, who used a Harmonia sample, or Prince, or Miles Davis, who was listening to Ravel. You can’t just have a diet of your own thing. You have to get outside of yourself. Which gets into the belief thing too–it’s about getting out of your comfort zone. So, I just think that all the best music and all the best ideas are about people trying to get outside of their comfort zone, and go to that other place. And that’s what Extracolor is all about.

An Education. Part 1: The Ministers’ Son

S: Let’s talk a little about your background. Where were you born?

D: I was born in Illinois. My parents were traveling ministers in what’s called the Evangelistic field. They would go from church to church and speak and take up an offering and that’s how we’d live. We had a trailer home for awhile, and then finally started to settle down looking for churches to pass through, and my dad took over this church in Detroit when I was 4. I don’t know what the neighborhood is called. We lived near Outer Drive on a street called Chatsworth.

S: So you were living in Detroit in the 1980s. What was your childhood like?

D: It was pretty cool. I mean, when you’re young, you don’t think that it’s weird that people have bars on their windows. You’re just like, yeah, that’s what people do. And honestly, we never really experienced anything violent or anything like that. We had stuff stolen, but I just felt this charmed existence.

S: When did you start encountering music?

D: All my family is musical. My dad wrote songs and played guitar and was kind of a hippie. I have this memory of us being on the road in this van and of him driving with his knees and playing acoustic guitar–just a big bearded hippie. So that was normal to me, in the same way that it’s normal to Claire [Daniel's daughter] to see me make music, so she just picks it up: “Oh, people make music. You know, people sing through the day.” My mother plays piano. My grandmother plays a bunch of instruments, writes songs. My uncle is a great songwriter. So, I can’t tell you when. It was just, kind of, in the air.

S: What kinds of songs were they? Mostly spiritual?

D: Yeah, mostly spiritual stuff. Especially my dad was very serious about it. The whole secular/religious thing was a big deal. I remember getting shit for listening to Mozart. I’d be listening to Mozart and my dad would come in the room and be like “Why can’t you listen to more praise worship music!” or something like that, you know. He took it as a form of rebellion that I wouldn’t listen to Christian music–that I would just find classical music instead. Which is what happened. It was so strict that all I could listen to was all this classical music. I didn’t get into rock until I was about to finish high school. So up till then I was just this classical nerd, you know. I knew all the stats. All the composers and stuff.

I remember in the early 80s the whole Michael Jackson phase started going on. That was a peripheral event for me, you know. That was something that was happening over there, but I wasn’t part of it. I mean, people in third-world countries knew all about Michael Jackson, but that’s how successful my dad was at isolating us from the mainstream culture. So, by the time I got to high school, your parents have less control over what you’re listening to. I remember I really got into George Michael‘s album “Faith,” and I got caught with it, and it was a big deal, you know, like, it was contraband. But I loved it; it was this forbidden pleasure. So when I was in high school the weird juxtaposition was that I was into classical and everyone else was listening to pop music. I can remember trying to convince my friends, “check out this ‘Night on Bald Mountain’ you know, I think it’s pretty cool–you’ll like it!” I was just kind of a geek that way.

S: You told me earlier you were playing the violin in school?

D: Yeah, but when we had performances, I’d turn my bow upside down so that you couldn’t hear me play. I had a good enough ear to know what all the parts were–I just didn’t have the technique. So I barely knew how to play.

S: So your entrance into pop music was the guitar?

D: No, actually I really got into the piano, and finally my mom was like, well, you can have lessons if you want them, and that’s when I started to take composition classes, when I was about 12, and I started instantly to write songs–usually about girls I liked. It was all piano. And then when grunge came, wow, grunge was unstoppable. I heard this stuff on the radio and was like, “I have to do this.” And I started learning guitar. But most guys start their first band as freshmen in high school, but i was a late bloomer in rock. But it was all guitar from there out. And I also started to play a little drums in high school.

An Education. Part 2: Noisy Acres, or, Not “Saved” by the Bell

S: So, where did you go to college and what did you study?

D: More religion stuff. I had a scholarship to U-M for 3 years if I did this ROTC thing, but my parents convinced me to go to this Bible College in Missouri called CBC. They had met at this college and they just convinced me to go there for one year to test it out, and I did that because I was so unsure of myself and, you know, scared, I guess, so I went along with it for one year. But that’s a serious school where they train ministers. They have a dress code. You have a curfew. It’s not like a normal college. I mean, you couldn’t even have pockets outside of your pants–that’s how strict the dress code was. But I survived a year of that and ended up meeting guys who lived outside of town to start a band with. I was so obsessed with being in a band–that was the only thing I cared about. I actually went back to Missouri just to keep this band going. I found another liberal arts Christian college called Evangel in Springfield, MO, and finished out there. But I barely even paid attention to school. I was only focused on writing songs and playing shows. Which is ridiculous because I have so much student debt from doing it.

S: Was it just that one band you were in for four years?

D: No, there were a few. I played drums in this punk band called Noisy Acres. And I started this band called And Protest

S: Wait, what was it called?

D: AND Protest. And the school found out that we started playing bars, so the school really started to clamp down, and we had to change our name. We changed it to Gorgeous.

S: So you left Missouri after you finished school?

D: Yep, I went to San Diego for a little bit. Tried to start a band there. Not really much came of it.

S: Wait, how the hell did you end up in San Diego?

D: It was as simple as me and some musician friends of mine being like, “Hey, we’re sick of the winters. In San Diego it’s 65 all year.” That’s how impulsive it was. We weren’t even on the internet! We didn’t research anything! I had just heard that, and came up with plan to go there. You know, once the idea was out, nobody could stop it. And we just threw all our shit in a truck and just moved there. Which was crazy, because at that time the town was really set up to resist migration. They know that everybody has that California dream, so the system is built to keep you out: You can’t get an address without a local checking account, but you can’t get a checking account without an address. There’s all these catch 22s. It’s funny.

S: When you were in that freshman year, was there any thought in your mind that you might be a minister?

D: I wouldn’t say that I ever thought of being a minister, but I did have a go at trying to be a Christian. I really did. But I don’t think that at any point would I ever be a minister. I thought maybe I’d be a Christian rocker or something like that, but never a preacher. My little brother does that–he’s a preacher now.

S: So, San Diego didn’t work out.

D: No,  but it was a good experience. It was like trying to put a plant in the soil and it just didn’t take. I just ended up leaving. After that I came home to Detroit and then really started trying to make bands and started Judah Johnson soon after, and that was my band up until 2006.

An Education. Part 3: The Judah Johnson Years

S: You had a lot of experiences with that band. You had a lot of success; you went on some tours; got some good album reviews.

D: Yeah, I mean, that’s how I taught myself how to make records. I learned how to use computers. I was one of those guys who were prehistoric about computers. Everybody else knew how to do it. I didn’t. So I had to change my brain. I got over my fear of computers to learn how to record because that’s how much I wanted to do it. Everything I know I pretty much learned in that band. And beyond music too. The guys I was with in that band changed my life. They taught me how to start thinking for myself, especially Charlie Koltak and Nate Cavalieri–they literally changed my life.

S: What do you mean by “started to think for myself?”

D: Just getting beyond belief systems. That was the big story of my life up till that point–I had no idea how crazy I was, you know, with belief. And I think most people don’t. I was brainwashed into thinking that integrity is staying true to an existing belief system, like it’s a thing of honor. You’re raised to stay the course, but now, I think the opposite is true, you know, change is all there is, which is a quote that I love, and I value change above all, you know, I think your beliefs should constantly be changing. So Charlie was scary to me because he didn’t place that much stock in “morals.” He wasn’t an immoral person, but he was trying to get beyond what we’ve been taught. He was trying to undo the brainwashing. So meeting him was scary, but at the same time I was totally intrigued and I was eventually able to take that thread and run with it myself. I mean, it’s hard to put into words quickly, but it was like a stance, an emotional stance about questioning everything, you know, the stuff you’re supposed to learn in college. But I was a late bloomer–I’ve always been–and I didn’t start learning that stuff until my 20s, after college.

S: You say you had this obsession with music. So when you were in Judah Johnson, and you guys started to tour, was that in line with what you always wanted? Did that change things for you at all?

D: I’ve never had a plan–never been a planner. So I never visualized what I wanted with music, and I kind of still don’t. I really just wanted to make the music we were listening to, something that would make us happy to hear if somebody else had made it…to a fault. There was never any consideration to anything else but making ourselves happy–a very selfish way to make music. I think as a result it never really did catch on. We had some tours, and some good reviews, and I think we made good music. I don’t know. When you ask if it changed anything, what do you mean?

S: I mean your relationship to music. What it did for you?

D: I guess, yeah, it helped me to connect with people. Imagine you’re one way–you’re totally insular–you just want to make myself happy. You’re listening to really abstract, long track lengths and I don’t have my audience in mind ever. And I’m not trying to communicate with another person. I’m not trying to have a conversation. So [at the time] I’m, like, a music recluse. I’m only talking to myself. And then, over years, you start to just get sick of that and really just want to get out of the house and meet other people, and I think the music I make now is always made with another person in mind. Not in the sense that I’m trying to catch on or make a hit but I really am just trying to talk to somebody. I think it’s a completely different perspective. But Judah Johnson was the process of my trying to move from one perspective to another.

Versioning

S: Let’s move back to Extracolor for bit. When I read some of the materials on the press kit, you talk about how the album is about one theme, and that’s healing the mind. Was Lazrus about that too, or was it just a passage you had to get through?

D: I guess the most recent big event was I read a book–I won’t say what it is–but I thought, wow, I can take this and run with it. Before then, everything was just a fad. I would read someone’s point of view and I would love it for a year or 6 months or two years, but eventually I always outgrew it. But there was this one book, and people are always saying that the Bible is the living word, but this book has been alive because I’ve been practicing it ever since, and I realized how messed up I was and started to “heal my mind,” and that was all coinciding with meeting Kirsten [his fiancée] and having a reason to do it. It’s either, fix yourself, or lose this beautiful person. So, a lot of the themes on the record are about committing, because it was all tied up together.

So the last track on Lazrus is this track called “Gold Version,” and that was a vision of what it would be like if I did heal my mind. So it was the last thing written on that record, and that was me being really sick and trying to picture this luminous version of myself that’s gold–the gold version of myself. And then, after slowly practicing this stuff, lo and behold, you start to heal. It’s totally possible, and then, all the songs written after that was while this was going on. You know, you start to pull on this ball of yarn and start unraveling it. So Lazrus is all pre-this, but about to start a new version of my life [he laughs, slightly embarrassed].

S: Don’t worry, this is good. It doesn’t sound the way it probably sounds in your head right now. But, I guess what I’m trying to ask is whether, metaphorically, Lazrus is rising from the dead at the beginning of the album, or the end of the album, or some other place in the album, right?

D: Yeah, at the end of the album, definitely. You know, a lot of the songs were written around this time, but I think I was being premature, I think I didn’t really start to come back then, it was more realizing I had to, more like wishful thinking.

Extracolor, One More Time

S: Let’s talk more about Extracolor. The ordering of the tracklist. Is there a narrative?

D: No. When I’m picking a track list, I’m thinking beats per minute and keys and stuff like that.

S: Really? Because when I listen to “One More Time” I think of it as prologue, and when I hear “Commitment” I really think of it as coda. And the rest of the album seems like the narrative.

D: Well, you know, I guess that’s right. When I wrote “One More Time” I knew it was going to be the first song on the album–that was the only thing I cared about. So it is prologue. Because it’s a statement of intent. There’s no reason for me to making a record in this point of my life. I have no audience. No fan base. But I’m doing it anyway. I’m coming back one more time. I hope you like it. And “Commitment” definitely had to be the last song. But the rest of it though, there’s no order beyond that. But I knew those two songs had to be the front and the end.

S: I’d like to ask about how the album opens. It opens with this odd kind of singing part by Gregory Clark, who sings on a few tracks on the album. I was wondering, why start the album like that? [Editor's Note: Sadly, Gregory Clark passed away in early March, after this interview was conducted.]

D: That’s funny. I was trying to do these featurette, making-of-the-album-type videos because, you know, people like to see things. So I’m taking all this footage while I’m making this stuff, but once again, it’s me having to do everything and wear all the hats, so I was literally tracking and holding the camera. If you watch the video, the camera’s sideways, because I’m tracking and making decisions and trying to be musical. But that was him warming up. So the hook goes [singing] “Neeeverrr giving up my dreams for you” and he just goes “Ahhhh I neverrrr…” and I was thinking, that’s awesome. There’s something in his voice–this howl.  And I just recorded the sound of the video and it became a sample and comes back later in the song later, but really I just wanted to get people’s attention.

S: Yeah, I think it dramatically alters how the album begins. If it was just those arpeggiated opening notes, it was have a very different feel.

D: Yeah, it would almost be like Animal Collective otherwise.

S: Tell me a little about Gregory Clark.

D: He’s just killing it, man. He’s a session vocalist in New York that Yessian uses because he’s totally nailing that Cee Lo thing. They bring him in when they need something super soulful. So when I would do certain projects I would say we gotta get Gregory Clark to sing on it, so my stuff would get sent off to New York and come back with these great vocals on it, and I thought, man I gotta use that guy. So I started talking to him and he’s just a really nice guy. He’s really involved with that show “Smash” right now, but if you look at his bio online you’ll see he’s worked with Lady Gaga, Bruce Springsteen, Michael Jackson, everybody, performing live or in the studio, in movies, I mean, you couldn’t have a better career than him. So we got together just for this one night, to work on my record.

S: You know, my favorite thing about that video is the part where you’re walking up the street and he points up and says “look at that!” and you’re like “what?” and he said “that!” and you kind of captured on camera that thing he was pointing at, on the horizon.

D: Yeah! It was like Ghostbusters. I had a better shot of that that I took with my camera and you could totally see it, cause it was a little out of focus in the video but it was strange–just a really weird looking sky.

S: That was really cool.

D: Yeah.

S: You begin that video with him talking about how cinematic the songs are…

D: Oh, asking me about licensing and stuff?

S: Yeah.

D: I hope it comes across in that video: the reason I put that scene in there is just to show how little game I have, because he’s doing that thing where people talk industry talk and I’m just kind of like mumbling, “eh eh eh…I don’t know.” And I was watching later and I thinking “No wonder I’m not successful. I can’t even schmooze.” So that’s why I put that in there.

S: Tell me more about Melanie Rutherford. And pretend I didn’t read the article you wrote about her.

D: Yeah, that was a similar thing, where I heard her on Black Milk‘s album, Tronic, and I was just obsessed with this song she was on. And I thought, “who the hell is this girl?!” So I looked her up and found out she was from Detroit. So I called her with the idea of doing some tracks together–this is in about 2008–and then in the process of talking to her I thought she was so interesting. I had started to write for the Metro Times and I needed ideas and the first thing that came to mind was that I should do this feature on Melanie. But I think that that actually changed our relationship because she started seeing me as a writer, whereas I just really wanted to work with her musically. So years later I started to do this record and it was my dream to get her on the album. So I was really nervous and I didn’t think it was going to happen, but she came in here and just wailed for a few hours. But I think she only ended up on one track though.

S: That’s a really interesting track on the album, “I Believe.”

D: Yeah, it’s a little bit of an odd duck.

S: I think the heavy guitars kind of match the heavy words, like it’s almost preparation for them. Was that a cathartic song?

D: Umm, yeah! It was. That was the most literal approach to what I was trying to say with the record. That was the most plain-spoken version of it–and maybe “Powerlines” was the same way, just coming out and saying “I have a problem with the way that we relate to our opinions and beliefs and doctrines and stuff.” But it was interesting because you never know where people are going to be, so asking those singers to sing those lines was difficult.

You Should Sing That Way All the Time

S: Let me ask you this. So, in your album notes, you write that this album is about singing the way your really want to sing. How does that mesh with having all of these other singers and voices singing along with you on the album?

D: The singing the way I want to sing thing is totally true.  You know that song “Tip of the Tongue”? It’s kind of buried in the back of the album. That was the beginning of a lot of stuff. I had done that as a demo while in Judah, so that’s the one song that predates the others. I was doing it in this faux soul thing…I don’t know what it is. It’s the voice that I always wanted to do but always just felt like it was silly and ridiculous and I could really never do that. And I felt a little shame about it. And I did this demo and just tracked it like that and it was one of those things where I was so insecure that I was really sweating doing it, and I didn’t know how to give it to people. And when I gave to the Judah people, everybody was just loving this song. Charlie Koltech, who drums on the record a little bit, he was like, “You should sing that way all the time.” It was a validation, you know, I didn’t feel so conspicuous and shameful about it.

And then I did “All the Way” while singing that way on the demo and I gradually convinced myself that I could do this. So I don’t think I’ve ever sung the way I sang on this album. Before I was kind of starting to get there with Lazrus, but if you go back and listen to Judah stuff, it’s not the same thing. And that’s pretty much the way I’ve always wanted to sing. You know, I’m not sure if it’s a George Michael influence, or Bono…I don’t know. That’s just that’s the way I feel like myself, but somehow I convinced myself it was stupid and I shouldn’t do it. So that’s the end of the road–I don’t want to change anymore as a singer. That’s myself. That’s the way I sound in my head.

And as far as working with other singers? I guess I’m using some soulful singers. John Zakoor, who also sang on the album, is a soulful singer. And Gregory and Melanie…I like soul singing–D’Angelo, Sam Cooke, Otis Redding–that to me is good singing.

The Visuals, and the Instagraming of Modern Music

S: Let’s talk about the cover a bit. You’re sitting outside a broken down car in the middle of nowhere. That’s the cover.

D: Yeah, I don’t know why that felt right. We did this initial photo shoot that my friends produced. I think they saw me as being into hip hop more than I really am, and we did this photo shoot as this baller thing, you know? I had this sweet watch on and a shirt and tie and sunglasses and we’re driving around in this BMW. And I looked at this stuff and thought “this was not the record. I’m not hip hop.”  But there were certain things about it I really liked. I liked the BMW because it was an old, not hot car–like, it was hot once, and is no longer hot, but it’s still kind of hot. So I liked the idea of not having the coolest, hottest car, but having this car that’s stood the test of time and still looks good.

S: Yeah, it’s got a car with a hood that opens from the front out.

D: Yeah. So I thought, why don’t we get me in this car but being broke down on the side of the road? And that act of being broken down on the side of the road feels intrinsically like the story of my life. I’ve been poor almost my whole life, and I just feel like that’s where I’ve always been in regard to everything. But I love it, you know, that’s where I love to be. It just felt right. And maybe that’s too deep to figure out subconsciously why but I saw that image before we even shot it. I knew, I want that. And we made it happen.

S: Let’s talk about the second image. I see it as really ambiguous. Why did you choose that one? [The image shows Daniel with eyes closed and hands joined together as if in prayer. You can see it as the banner on Daniel's website].

D: I like it because it’s ambiguous, because it’s not really prayer, but it could be. It’s thoughtful. I don’t know. It just seemed to make sense. I was initially a little hesitant about it because it felt like it was almost trying to be sacrilegious and that wasn’t what I wanted to do. In the context of the music it would be sacrilegious.

It’s also a listening shot. I always liked the cover of Jeff Buckley‘s Grace. That picture was taken when they were playing back mixes of his album that he had not heard yet. So he was really, really listening, because when you listen to mixes you’re so sensitive to everything–you’re listening to every little detail. Eventually you get past that but you can tell that he’s like that. So to me, that was a listening photograph.

I’ll tell you one thing we shot for–I don’t know if we achieved it–was that we tried to be the un-Instagram. I feel like right now music is in an Instagram phase. Everybody’s slapping filters on stuff. Instagram is an instant vibe. You throw this filter on something you just took–you just pointed and shot. You don’t even have to be a good photographer, you just need to have something that has a little bit of style, and a lot of music is like that right now. It’s just really gauzy and lo-fi with lots of filters. But my record’s not like that. You can hear everything. The mix is pretty clean compared to other stuff and it’s very transparent. It’s very naked to me, in the sense that everything is there, in your face, it’s not filtered and blown out and submerged in reverb. And I wanted the photographs to be like that too. The head shot is so clear. You can see moles on my face. The artist did throw some paint on it, adding some extra color, literally, but other than that, it’s very clear.

S: The last thing I wanted to ask is, well, having read your blog and your own insights about the album, and reading some of your own writing–and knowing you’re a writer too–I gotta say it’s going to be difficult to write this piece because it might be better if you just wrote it yourself.

D: [laughs a little bit]

S: Yeah, there’s a lot to this, you know? Part of me feels like I wish I could just coordinate with a magazine a story where you talk about your work, and I can get credit as a project manager or something.

D: [laughs a bit more] Don’t worry about it, man, you’ll do fine. Write what you want to say. I mean, if anything, one of the things I’m still not happy about myself is that part of your mind that analyzes things and forces you into thinking about yourself in the third person. That’s something I’m trying to shut off; I’m still trying to starve that out. I had to write the bio for this stuff and I had a revulsion to it, having to write about yourself in the third person. I wish I could not do that, but, anyway.

Lana Del Rey, and Why It Would Be Better for Haters if they didn’t Hate

S: That comes through in your defense of Lana Del Ray that you wrote on your blog a little while ago.

D: Yeah, but I write that stuff, and I feel guilty. I felt really guilty about writing that because it’s argumentative and it’s something I’m trying to get past, in myself, because I was raised so argumentatively. But I really strove to keep that thing positive.

S: Well, I think you did, and frankly, I wouldn’t have expected your viewpoint from someone who wasn’t a songwriter. Especially if I think of myself in relation to you. I’m a guy who plays guitar sometimes, but you’re a musician. I think the people who often find indie music and its categories extremely important are the people who play the guitar sometimes and think of themselves as musicians.

D: I think I know what you mean. It’s that critical…um…it’s almost like a parasite that we all have–this inner voice that’s analyzing everything. And a lot of time that whole indie culture is full people for whom that voice has taken over, like a tyrant in their minds. So it’s excessive analysis of everything, and that’s why they’re judging everything–it’s because they’re scared of being judged. It’s this really weird snake-eating-the-tail type environment.

Like, the Lana Del Rey thing is almost not about her. I’ve thought about it so much that every one of my friends thinks I’m obsessed with Lana Del Rey, and I do love her songs, but it’s beside the point, because it’s really just about the way…I don’t know…I saw her on Letterman [a performance that aired soon after the largely derided SNL performance] and she was great. And when Bon Iver was on Saturday Night Live, and I was loving what I saw–whether you like it or not, I loved it–and it inspired me, and as I was having that feeling, literally as I was having that feeling, I glanced at my Twitter feed, and saw people rip on the performance. It was at that point that I thought the internet is just totally toxic.

S: It is, and it’s funny, because I was probably one of those people, and to be honest, I’ve never gotten into Bon Iver, and it’s not because I don’t like his music–I missed the boat. And I feel like, having listened to his new stuff, I just don’t know where he’s going, having not known from where he’s been. I never actually listened to Emma all the way through. I don’t know why. I was listening to something else I guess. But as I was listened to the SNL performance, I did go to  social media and wrote “Bon Iver on SNL sounds like Bruce Hornsby and the Range with Autotune.”

D: Oh, haha, there’s definitely a Hornsby thing there, I guess.

S: Yeah, and I didn’t mean it as a put down, but I’m sure to a lot of people it sounded that way, and so when I read your post on Lana, I was hoping that I wasn’t those people.

D: Hmm. I don’t know if it was you or not. In fact, I think it was actually Gregory Clark, in NY, saying “what is this shit on SNL!” or something, but I mean, I’m trying to get past that point of view, but I’m also not trying to judge everybody because I’m into this really weird trip right now where I see praise of things as this form of criticism. Like, saying something is good is almost a way of saying other things are bad. It’s this need to quantify everything, you know what I mean? Things don’t need to be analyzed as much as we do . So I’m even starting to see there’s a form of excess in saying that I like things. Why do I even need to say that? It might sound crazy, but that’s where I’m at right now. I feel like it’s a critical faculty of my mind to praise things. Because when you say something is good, you almost have to say that some things are bad.

In Conclusion: Music, the Meaning of Life, and the Whatever

S: So, I guess that last thing is the recap question: Is there anything you want people who listen to your album to know about? You said earlier that you’re really trying to have a conversation with your listeners on this album.

D: Yeah, you know, I think  a lot of musicians struggle with it. Like, P.J. Harvey has said publicly “Why am I doing this? Is there any value to music?” You know what I mean? It can be really selfish. What is this career that I have? Or, what is this hobby that I have? Why am I doing this? And I’ve kind of resolved that for awhile because I feel like what a good artist does or what a good musician does is they take you to a place that’s beyond language. That’s what music does. We have our left and right minds and the right side of our brains is the part that imposes structure–words, language, spatial relationships–and then the left side of our brain is the place of ecstasy and acceptance–it’s not having to say this is good or bad. And it’s almost like there’s this ferry between these two sides of our mind and the artist is that mythical ferryman who’s helping people get across. If you can just point that way! And this is why people respond to others who are really spontaneous, because that’s a person who’s going to help me ferry my way across, even if it’s something I have to do every day–I have to get to that place. In that sense I do think music is useful. I’ve made music and I think people should hear it but it’s also a music that’s about that journey of healing your mind, but with all that, whatever, hopefully you can respond to this record because the tunes get in your head and because you like the beats. That’s what I really wanted to do. I didn’t even set out for the record to be about anything. I really just wanted to make a carnal, beautiful, soulful, sexy record, and I feel weird talking about it, but that’s for you to write.