Van and Trailor vs. the Internet

Okay, here I go sounding like the old guy talking “back in my day” again. The truth is technology is changing so fast, that guy could have actually been born when grunge was the thing (google Seattle music or Soundgarden). And while lots of folks complain about what the cursed internet has done to music, and while I could easily call Pandora the devil’s work, a whole lot of things have changed for the better.

Van #1-Brownie. Okay, this was actually a mini-van. When I made the decision to give this music thing a chance I sold my Jeep Renegade and bought a Ford Astro van from a lady who had been using it to move her paintings. It was sans chairs of any kind and covered wall to wall in carpet. Not cool Dazed and Confused carpet. Just plain, office grade stuff. We all met at my house in Norman, Ok, packed our gear and hit the road for our first out of town gig in Stillwater, Ok roughly 70 minutes away. But damn it we told everyone of our friends we were on tour.

Van #2-The Banana. Yeah, cause it was yellow (too easy?). This was a big step up from Brownie. Full sized, customized and we finally had that sweet 70’s shag this time. Here’s how we bought The Banana. My dad worked for the Dept. of Transportation and was put in charge of finding a band for their annual Christmas party, or yearly retreat or something. Now, the only place worse than a corporate event for a band who was in full on refuse-to-turn-down-or-play-covers mode to play, is an event for state employees. Listen, I was a state employ once (different story for a different time centering around me holding a “stop/slow” sign on the side of the highway) and I’ve met cool state employees. But a room full of them drinking punch out of paper cups at noon…

Why’d we do it? We’d just seen an ad for a perfect van upgrade, cost, 3500. Pay for the gig, 3500. By now we’d graduated to the seven state area. The Banana’s last trip was even farther… to NYC to play a label showcase at CBGB’s, which incidentally was not the last time we were passed on by a label.

Van#3-No Name, but a badass shiny new 15 passenger van pulling a very solid trailer full of gear. No stories about this one. Not even the bullet in the side story (crazy girls). It’s time to address the future.

The Future.
That’s where we are now and holy hell things look so much easier. We could've graduated vans way quicker if I could’ve sent blasts to our fans tweeting or snapping away. We could've saved tons of gas skipping that one show we just had to play in Brownsville, TX for 15 people (btw that’s pretty much as far south as you can go). Would’ve had a contest where fans put up a youtube video of their favorite Nixons song and pick the one from south Texas. And services like TuneCore: this is basically an online handbook for people trying to do exactly what we were trying to do. I didn’t even know what publishing was. On sites like this you can learn every intricate detail on this and almost any other music business related topic. It’s like the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy for bands (don’t panic).

Listen, did I enjoy spray painting our band name on dumpsters all over the Oklahoma City metro area banking on people thinking we suddenly had such rabid fans we were worthy of a little petty vandalism? Okay, I actually did enjoy that and would do that one all over again.

I’m a songwriter now and fought every sibling-in-law I had telling me how great American Idol was. See, I did it the real way. Came up the right way. Until I got a cut on an Idol’s album, then I liked it better. Oh okay, not so bad. It was a platform. A way in. Today there are so many more of them. In my heart, I’m proud of the way we did it. I learned a lot and know a lot things to warn my sons about. We played around 300 days a year for nearly a decade and hell yeah could’ve used an assist from TuneCore to shave off a hundred miles or so.

Van and Trailer Vs. The Internet? We’ll call it a draw.

Studio Automatic: Genesis Of A Song

I write songs. Some weeks I write one song each day. I woke up one morning and (after drinking a large cup of coffee) thought to myself: Why not give every songwriter the accessibility that I have to create great-sounding music? I realized I could create a digital platform offering the same quality and service that I provide every day for my in-studio clients to every aspiring songwriter out there. By the time I finished my second cup of coffee, Studio Automatic was born.

The first question you may have for me is: How do you know so many great studio musicians? I’m so glad you asked. Since signing my first record deal to MCA Records in 1995, I have built relationships with some of the most accomplished musicians, engineers, and mixers on the planet. These professionals make up the team at Studio Automatic. They’ve played on albums for GRAMMY award-winning artists and have worked on projects for major labels, including Warner Brothers, Universal, Atlantic, Capitol, Big Machine and many more.

The next question a lot of clients have for me is: What happens to my song after I upload it to StudioAutomatic.com? Excellent question, indeed! The process will vary client-to-client depending on package choices, but the Studio Automatic team begins and ends with our project coordinators. These are highly trained engineers/producers who can play an instrument (or multiple instruments) proficiently. One of these project coordinators will send a client’s scratch audio to a Studio Automatic drummer who will track the drums (possibly in his or her pajamas) and send the wav files back. From there, the project coordinator will add guitars and bass before sending the track to one of our demo singers. He or she will cut vocals and return her work to the project coordinator. The coordinator then cleans the track up before sending to one of Studio Automatic’s mixers. Mixers do just what it sounds like they do: They mix all the instruments and vocals together. They play with volumes, create fades, make sure the vocals are finely tuned, and so on. Once they’ve mixed the track to perfection, they send the song over to the coordinator once more, who then uploads the finished product to the client’s account on Studio Automatic.

By the time a client receives their finished product, their track could have passed through 4 or more accomplished studio musicians because, well, it takes a village, folks!

Now that you’ve heard my story, I want to hear yours! I’d like to hear your questions about recording and songwriting. Leave a comment on this post with the things that are tripping you up in the studio and I’ll see what I can do to help!

Bluebird Rocks!

I was lucky enough to perform on some iconic stages at some amazing venues over my time as an artist. My band opened for Kiss at Madison Square Garden and in a subsequent video released by the make-up wearing hall of famers, there is a panning shot of the crowd that clearly shows my mom and dad (who flew out for the show), arms raised, in Nixons t-shirts, rocking right along with the Kiss Army. We got to play Red Rocks, the picturesque amphitheater that is cut right out of the Rocky Mountains just outside of Denver. In fact, we played there enough times (5) to be presented with a little trophy made out of a sliver of the actual red rock that surrounds the outdoor venue. Played Cain’s Ballroom, which for an Okie is something any band coming up in the Sooner State aspires to do. I can also say we played the room before the renovations that included A.C. Once upon an August night somewhere in the mid 90’s, we happily sweat our way through a rock show and mosh pit somewhere in the low 100’s.

As a songwriter, an ultimate honor is to play another iconic room, the Bluebird Cafe. I had heard of the place even before moving to Nashville. I think I was first made aware from the 1993 River Phoenix film The Thing Called Love. Like most people my age, anything Phoenix was associated with was just…cool. I don’t think I understood what it was really all about, but started hearing stories beginning with one about an iconic Garth Brooks song. As the story goes, Garth was in attendance in the tiny little cafe that sits unassumingly between a dry cleaners and some random retail shop, when Tony Arata performed “The Dance.” Brooks apparently told the writer he would someday cut the song when he got a record deal. The rest is history. 

I’ve now played there a few times, most recently to a packed house alongside three other writers including J.T. Harding who played some of his hits. J.T. has a singing style all his own and it was so amazingly cool to hear him bust out his version of “Smile” by Uncle Kracker while the 90 plus in attendance sang along. The first time I played there was with Craig Wiseman. There is something equally inspiring and daunting about following his version of “Live Like You Were Dying” with one of my own songs.

When we were putting together and speaking to people about the Oklahoma Songwriters Festival, we used the Bluebird Cafe as a touchstone. As in, the songwriter showcase will be set up as if we are bringing the Bluebird to Oklahoma for an evening. In Nashville, in large part because of the TV show with the same name, people line up and clamor to get into the writer showcase room. In OKC, we’ve been spreading the word and hope people line up to come see myself, Marcus Hummon (“Bless the Broken Road”), Jim Beavers (“Watching Airplanes”), Marti Frederickson (“Undo it”) and J.D. McPherson sing the songs we’ve written for ourselves and others. 

The Bluebird Cafe has no lighting trusses or catwalks like an arena in Manhattan, no sweeping views of mountains in Colorado. But the history and the energy in this little room is like nothing else I’ve ever felt. If you are in the audience and you chit chat, you’ll get shushed. It’s quiet, yes. But truth is the Bluebird rocks as hard as any wall of Marshall cabs ever will.

Don't Be an Asshole

Around the time my band the Nixons signed our first record deal, someone gave me some good advice: be cool to the people you meet going up, cause you’ll see ‘em again on your way down. From my current vantage point it’s downright uncanny how prophetic that statement was. 

 We were starting to gain some momentum outside our home region of the midwest. We finally got to that point where we could select our own opening band (seems small but at the time, one of those things that felt huge). We chose a funny little band that was making some noise in Texas called Bowling For Soup. They were silly, fun, funny, kind and great to have out. We threw ‘em bones every time we could. Lead singer, Jaret, still tells the story about politely knocking on the bus door somewhere in Carolina (or maybe Georgia) when despite being sick and wrapped in a blanket, I waved ‘em in, sat and chatted for a good long while. We offered ‘em beer, they drank it. Pretty sure they drank all of it. Several years later as I was making the transition from artist to writer/producer I got a call from the now major label BFS singer, Jaret. He asked for some advice about their producer and threw out the offer for me to come write for their upcoming album. I did. Got a few cuts, one of which was their third single. It didn’t burn up the charts but here’s what it did do: enter the Hot 100 at number 39 for one week. The week Sony Publishing offered me a writers pub deal (I’d had artist pub deals but was adamant that I needed one that could help me develop writing with other writers and artists). All told I have had over a dozen cuts with BFS over the years and even co-produced tracks on one album. Don’t know for sure but betting if I’d passed on the bus-hang-even-with-a-fever, things might have gone differently (sure the beer helped too).

 Another person I was “just nice enough to/to make a little mark” was Chris Daughtry. I was now in year two or three of that Sony deal and was writing like crazy, with every band, singer, artist I could. Getting a few little things on albums here and there when I had a chance meeting with Pete Ganbarg. At the time Pete was looking for songs for the recently Idol booted Chris Daughtry for his upcoming album. I had just released a solo album, sort of a “last gasp” at being an artist. Pete had zero interest in me as an artist but really liked one of the tunes for Chris. He played it for him and his producer. They cut it. At the release party for that album, which went on to sell over 6 million copies, Chris bee-lined to me after his performance and told me a story. Somewhere in Virginia (or Maryland) he had waited in line for a Nixons autograph and when the then teen got to me said “I’m a singer and thinking of getting a vocal coach.” He asked my advice, which was something to the effect of go for it just don’t let the coach change who you are as a singer. I have no recollection of this (sorry Chris) but do wonder if that fueled the decision to cut my song. That song which introduced me to Pete, who later became my manager. The producer, who I’ve gotten cuts on probably 15 projects he’s done. It also introduced me to the management company who later asked me if I’d be interested in writing with their rising country star, Carrie Underwood. I said yes.

 I could go on and on. There’s the former GM at my old record label who hired me recently to produce an artist he was managing. The booking agent for my college band who reached out when someone was looking for a collaborator. The former DJ at a station in Texas who is now an exec at Apple who has helped facilitate some things with Apple Music. 

Look, I’m no saint. In fact, I know some people who might have a different story to tell. But I tried my best to follow that advice I was given cause the truth is, most people do come back down. Then, if you’re lucky, back up. Then, well you know. Now, go be nice.

The people you meet along the way are the most important people in the end. 

The Stapleton Effect

Let’s get the gratuitous Stapleton worship out of the way. I totally agree with you, he’s a different kind of great. One that you just want to hear, want to route for and then ultimately, tell your friends “I told you so” when he wins, cause you knew how badass he was a long time ago.

I wrote with him a while back and truly did get to hear, up close, how amazing he is. Just in the room with an acoustic guitar singing “blah, blah” makeshift, mumbly lyrics…it was killer. Magic.

But I’m not the rabid fan. I followed from afar. I got the latest album and dig it a lot and completely see why it’s created a little spark-turned-inferno. But I’m not that hard-core guy. Never saw the Steel Drivers (sacrilege in some parts of Tennessee). Don’t have his “old stuff”.

 FUN FACT: You know who is one of those “hard-cores”? Adele (the other “current coolest person in music”).  She covered a Steel Drivers/Stapleton penned song for the Euro release of her 21 album. Cool, huh?

 So, he is on top of the music world right now.  Dude has a night like the one he had a few nights ago. Where the stars line up. Performance with Justin Timberlake (that tore faces off from gritty to glitzy) followed up by a handful, no armful of awards. 

 Now what?

 Country music is fine. Okay more like on fire. So, it doesn't need a savior. But, what will that night and Chris’ success do to the genre?

 Probably, not much. There’s still gonna be the kind of stuff on the radio that some people write off as “not credible”. Still gonna be the staples: those artists who release albums and just get played. A newcomer will blow up that we’d never heard about 3 months ago, etc, etc. They’ll be a duo or two, a band here or there.

 But what about that special talent that doesn’t fit into a box? Like Stapleton. Will labels take a chance? Will radio?

Hell, will radio take a chance on Chris Stapleton?

Here’s hoping they do. That a chance is given to that chick or dude or band that doesn’t fit immediately and easily into the world that a lot of folks call country music. What if it throws back a little or pushes the limits. What if his hairs too long or he’s a little rough around the edges? What if she sings about things that might be a little extreme? Maybe they’ll get the shot they might not have a few months ago.

 Here’s the deal. There might not be a seismic shift in country music. The Stapleton effect might not be anything other than…Chris Stapleton.

 Oh, alright. We’ll take it. (And plus: now we got new Adele).

Songs

Songs. Music. Still gets me. I love and sometimes hate it. I am continuously intrigued with the idea of music making, writing, playing, singing...
How it’s done. Why?
For money, right? Kidding. For the love of it, right?

Hovering over all of it is that question:

What is a hit?
How do you write one?
Well, here you go. I will now clear my throat and give to you, the formula for writing a hit song...

Of course, that’s a total lie. There’s no formula. If there was, I wouldn't have a job.
Funny, I don't actually think of what I do as a job. I had a paper route once. That’s a job.
Worked as a law clerk, loaded and delivered railroad ties, knocked mortar off bricks at a construction site so they could be reused, thawed frozen pipes. Was a night watchman, sold insurance to truck drivers for legal fees, negotiated with D.A.s on behalf of truck drivers (conflict of interest? You decide.). I worked at a movie theater for a while, mostly for the popcorn and pickles. Those were jobs.

Luckily for me: I’ve been able to maintain a career in the business of singing, playing, writing and producing music for over 20 years.
Finding something that rhymes with “love.” That’s not a job.
I’ve written songs for my own band the Nixons, who signed to MCA Records in the mid ’90’s and toured and released albums for over a decade. I’ve written songs for artists ranging from Carrie Underwood to 3 Doors Down. I’ve produced artists on major labels, indie labels and no label at all.
Most recently I have focused on writing and producing from my studio in Nashville, TN.
I can tell you the one thing you DO need: a good recording of your song. Of most the songs I turn in to my publishing company, I have recorded or put together a great sounding demo. The conversation in Nashville these days is all about how some folks in town produce demos that sound as good (if not better) than some master recordings. I can tell you that I believe the reason for that is that the people involved in making major label albums are also involved in making great demos, and are attainable. They work on massive projects but you can still find ‘em if you know where and how to look.

I’ve developed relationships with a vast array of musicians, studio engineers, mix engineers, mastering engineers, producers, writers and music executives. I use them for my demos. We will be using some of those folks here at studioautomatic.com to make your demo.

There are amazing careers that continue out there for tons of folks in the music biz. Tours. T-shirts. Albums. Spotlights in arenas, clubs and stadiums. But here is the absolute truth.

It all starts with a song.

Keep writing y’all. Keep rockin’.

Not Just A Drummer

We went to see the Foo Fighters last week here in Nashville. And holy hell! This is truly the best live band we got going folks. Okay, I saw Muse last year and they were amazing. And, oh yeah, Cage the Elephant at the recent Pilgrimage Festival was next level live rock as well. Let’s just go with a three way tie.  

Having seen Grohl and company most recently, I’m going with them tops for the purposes of this little piece. Speaking of Grohl: as you probably know he broke his leg a few months ago and performed the over two hour set, on a throne. That’s what he called it, a throne, when he made mention of the incident, showing us the scribbled drawing he gave to his crew who went on to design it. The drawing came complete with Dave’s instructions to add “lasers and shit." Seated. With a boot still on. He rocked as hard as anyone I’ve ever seen. I’ve seen Rage, Pearl Jam, U2, Sevendust…and tons more. Nothing like it.  Head banging, punishing his guitar and screaming. The screaming. I’m a singer. Fronting my rock band The Nixons, I screamed once, at the top of every show with usual opening song “Foma." A song that begins on the record with me screaming.

NOTE: When my now father-in-law asked my now sister-in-law to play some of my music. They popped in our first CD and with volume loud, he was introduced to the young fella dating his daughter (my now wife who I now scream alongside with as we raise teenage boys. My now wife who had hands in the air singing along to every song that night watching the FF. My wife who stood in line for over two hours with our son to get us tickets 8 months earlier).  

Top of the show: he screams from behind a big red curtain with the familiar FF logo, we heard guitar noise, drum booms and him.  “Are you f**king ready?!!” “How the f**k you doing?!?!” “C’mon!!!” “Let’s f**king go!!” (He said f**k a lot). He screamed throughout the show and never missed a note. Even in the non-screaming quieter moments, his voice sounded clear and powerful. He has something else though. Some sort of magical pull. Some mash-up of honesty, energy, coolness, humor, rockingness. Once he just sat there staring out, smiling with a look that said, “I am going to rip your f**king heads off ." 

He sucked all 10k plus in. Yelling at his light guy to show him the crowd. Cue house lights. He screamed at one fan who was singing along. He told the fan he was gonna lose his voice but that he could "do this sh*t all night."  I don’t know how to describe it other than to say: he’s f**king cool. Everything he does is cool. He chewed gum. He even chews gum cool. Dunno how it’s possible but it’s true. He also had a funny and endearing rapport with all his band mates, especially Taylor Hawkins (the second best drummer in the Foo Fighters).  Also, I forgot how many hits they've had. Interesting conversation with my boys about how they’ve now eclipsed the musical output of Grohl's former band Nirvana. Nirvana. Oh yeah, they were and still are one of the most important bands ever. The musical and historical mark Nirvana made cannot be overstated. But Grohl has created a new mythos for himself that I never would've seen when I saw them the first time. Flashback: My tour manager came on our bus back in nineteen-ninety something outside the club we were playing in San Francisco and, knowing I am a big Pearl Jam fan, informed me Eddie Vedder’s side project Hovercraft was playing. And the drummer for Nirvana has a new band and they're opening. I saw one of the first shows they played. It was great then. We only saw couple songs and then refocused on our own show. To see what he has built, from then to now…is absolutely unbelievably awesome.  

From “Everlong” to “The Pretender” from “Big Me” to “Best of You." Energy never waned. The band led by Mr. RAWK-n-ROLL, was one of the best live shows I have ever seen. There goes my hero. Indeed.

Influences

I get asked sometimes, “Who are your influences?”

When I was in a band and out at some radio station interview, I’d dive into the obligatory list: “The Who, Zeppelin, The Beatles” inevitably shifting to my Flaming Lips stories about seeing them in college at OU. Those shows and their success definitely inspired and influenced me (if you know my band The Nixons, you’re saying “huh?” But trust me: the lights, the show, the distortion, the hair, the sheer volume. Damn, they were loud). Or I’d ramble on about my granddad who sang country music and made sure I knew who the hell Merle Haggard and Johnny Cash were (“Okie, from Muskogee” anyone? “Boy Named Sue” c’mon).

Now, with a few years in the rearview, I see things clearer (things actually are closer than they appear). Through a little wider lens (fish-eye?). Through a little wiser tint (Fletch “Well, there we’re in a kind of a grey area." Frank “How grey?” Fletch “Charcoal?”).

Truth is: influences come in an ever increasing array of sources. A song. A book. My kids. A sign in front of a church house. The weather. A painting, photograph, joke, movie, play. That one thing, that one guy said, on that one show...

Damn, what’d he say again?!

I need all that stuff. I live off that stuff.

I write songs.

When I lived in Tulsa, on the sideline of my kid’s soccer game, people would ask “What do ya do?” 

I’d tell ‘em, “I’m a songwriter."

“Oh yeah, yeah... but I mean for your job?” 

Smile.

Now, I live in Nashville. The response is more like, “yeah, course ya do.”

A follow up question is usually centered around the amazement that I could actually wake up every day and write, or attempt to, write a song.  

But I do.

They don’t always get finished/cut/beloved by millions. But I still try. Still hold up my iPhone and listen to that idea I sang at midnight last night or on the sideline of a lacrosse game (they gave up on soccer), or in the shower (I wait till I’m dry), or in the car (if it’s raining, those are usually around the tempo of the windshield wipers), or after that one TV show (damn, how’d he say that again??).