Rob Barteletti: Rob's Blog

Behind the 8-Ball Studio scenes with Paula Sinclair
Category: Music


(NOTE: Paula and I decided to keep blogs about the recording sessions with Rob Stroup at his 8 Ball Studio where he has been producing her new album. To read about Week One in the studio for this recording project, go to Paula's blog on her myspace page.)



Before I talk about "week 2" in the studio, I want to comment on the collaboration process with Paula. As she said in her blog, neither of us has done much of this as songwriters -- although I think her poetry projects are highly collaborative experiences on a literary/musical level.

For me, though, this was a struggle -- albeit a short one -- between my "ego" and my "soul." My "ego" said, "How dare anyone consider changing even a single word or a note in my masterpiece of a song!" But my "soul" -- fortunately, much wiser and humbler -- responded, "You must chill. This isn't a competition (if so, by the way, you'd lose) but a collaboration. It's about letting go of attachments, which are merely illusions, and giving in to il miglior fabbro ('the better maker') -- in this case, Paula." Don't you hate it when your "soul" is both right and long-winded?


Anyway, the struggle ended as soon as I appreciated the immense improvements Paula made to my five songs. She has a remarkable ear for the musicality of language, a superior talent for arranging music -- making key changes, inserting bridges, and shfting tempos -- as well as a very high standard for story and imagery, and a bull-dogged tenacity about insisting that she won't record a song unless she totally believes in what she is singing. Consequently, from now on I will bring her every song I write for her invaluable contributions.


On to the second week. RS brought in some more great "hired guns": Tony Furtado laying down signature banjo, dojo, and slide guitar tracks; Jean-Pierre Garau playing keys; Tim Ellis riffing on electric lead guitar and mandolin; and Paul Brainard workng his magic on pedal steel. RS invites the best musicians because his approach to production is to trust and empower people in the studio so that they feel artistically invested in the project. We had a week that was dynamic, creative, and spontaneous.

But the highlight of the week was listening to Paula finish her lead vocals. She brings it all to her sessions: a vocal and emotional power and range that just blows away everyone listening to her in the studio. And, so typical of Paula, she'll comment on a track she's just cut with "No, that wasn't right" or, at best, "That felt pretty good," while the rest of us look at each other with an "I'd kill to be that 'not right' or 'pretty good'!" expression on our faces. But, as I said, that's Paula -- humble and hardworking, always striving to be better when everyone else would be sitting on their laurels.

At 3:02 p.m. today I was annoyed. I had just arrived out of breath in what I thought was the nick of time to check in for an appointment with my neurologist. The cheerful receptionist had informed me, with a smile, "You’re exactly two months early." My appointment had been scheduled for 5/12 and not 3/12; the "5" looked like a "3" on the reminder card. Great. Then, about 30 minutes later, driving in traffic and just as I was taking the exit from the highway towards home, all the cars in front of mine came to a dead halt while one of those "five-engines-and-no-caboose-in-sight" freight trains took at least 10 minutes to crawl across the road. Great big waste of time and gas, I thought. So, I started idly listening to the "Geo Quiz" on NPR’s "The World." As I sat there stewing, the story on the radio caught my attention. When it was over I wiped a tear away and realized gratefully that had I not misread the date for my appointment and had that loooooooooooooooong freight train not come along when it had, I would have missed an amazing, inspiring story about two whales and a dolphin in New Zealand. So, whatever you’re doing now, please stop and click on this link and then click on "Listen" under the Geo Quiz. In about 3 minutes you’ll be glad that I made that mistake today and then got stuck at a railroad crossing...

http://www.theworld.org/node/16597?answer=true

I wear many musical "sombreros." I am a songwriter, first and foremost. I am a performer at my RB&F showcases and at occasional other appearances. I am founding organizer of the annual Shakers’ Ball benefit show for Parkinson’s research and support. Most recently, I have become a companion to local singers/songwriters as a consultant, publicist, promoter, and host.

To place these activities and roles under one hat, I’ve established Old Sombrero Music LLC, through which I am working in my own way to be “a leader in the independent music revolution."

AN INTERVIEW

Question: Why use the word “companion” instead of “manager” or “agent”?

Rob:If music were just a business, then “manager” or “agent” might be appropriate terms to describe what I’m trying to do. But music is primarily, for me and for those with whom I work, artistic, emotional and even spiritual expression. “Companion” connotes care, empathy, and appreciation. It suggests dedication and a willingness to travel the trail with another person. It includes a sense of responsibility, without the “bottom line” always focusing on money, power, and fame.

Q: Are those bad things on which to focus?

R: Not necessarily. Artists live in a world that requires financial, legal, and promotional success of some kind in order to survive. But the “art” within us also requires, perhaps more so, a nurturing hand. I want my companions to succeed according to their goals, but I don’t want the cost to be their souls. I’m not interested in a partnership that sells out to the bottom line.

Q: “Partnership” is another interesting term: What do you mean by that?

R: I think I’m being consistent. I see my relationships with other songwriters, singers, and musicians as symbiotic: it is mutually beneficial on many levels. And because the partnership is one of companionship as well, those benefits are not limited only to outcomes. I am an artist first, a publicist, promoter, sometimes agent, sometimes manager next. If I can’t appreciate someone’s spirit and creativity, and if they can’t appreciate me on that level, we’re not going very far on our journey together

Q: How do you work with your “companions”?

R: We establish mutual goals and objectives that include more than the nuts-and-bolts of the music industry, I try to encourage people, as I did for 31 years as a high school teacher, to believe in themselves, to follow their dreams, and to enjoy the journey at least as much as they anticipate enjoying the destination. The music business is a graveyard of disappointment primarily because it is so product-driven. It is also one of the most fickle, unpredictable, and dog-eat-dog industries on the planet. Why pursue a career or avocation in music if the odds are only that you’ll fail to grab the gold ring? If you don’t enjoy the ride, you’re wasting your time on the carousel!

Q: What do you charge to be someone’s musical companion?

R: I’m not doing this for the money. However, it is human nature to devalue something one can get without paying some price. To clarify that fuzzy line I negotiate the kind of partnership we’re going to establish. What do you want/expect me to do for you? What can we learn and harvest together from our relationship as artists? What will it take for you to give me your trust, your efforts, and your respect? The answers may include money, trading services, or musical collaboration. I think it’s crucial that we get along and even become friends. I come from an academic paradigm, not a corporate model. My “co-workers” and “supervisors” were all “colleagues.” That implies a sense of mutuality, respect, and, yes, friendship. What I miss most about teaching, now that I have retired from that profession, is the relationships, not the money, power, or recognition. That’s the only way I can do business.

As I look out of my window at August sunshine and blue skies, cooled by a lazy breeze sifting through the screens on my open windows, breathing it all in on this slow rocking-chair day, the world goes hurtling toward God-only-knows-what fate. And as I often do when a carefree day intersects with a trouble-burdened planet, instead of shouting "Scotty, beam me outta here!" (although I'm sometimes tempted), I write a song.

Lately, I've written several songs, building material for my next CD project, scheduled for "sometime down the road." The imagery, metaphors, and topics have ranged from Custer's Last Stand to Ché Guevara to the circus to a special bond between two sisters.

I've also taken first steps toward collaboration with other songwriters. As I make new friends through music, I grow more appreciative of the extraordinary talent in the songwriting pool in Portland. There is so much to learn and share with other artists, and it doesn't have to be about ego or money or fame; rather I'm finding it to be about sharing the simple joy and grace of drawing
music from the language of stories.

That's why I'm developing a plan to provide a showcase series for the very best of Portland's singer-songwriters. It is difficult for singer-songwriters and audiences who appreciate them to find each other in the Portland area. Often, the “best” compromise is the excruciatingly uneven, catch-as-catch-can “open-mike” night. Short of that, with a few exceptions, talented singer-songwriters not associated with a bar-band find themselves opening for bar-bands at noisy venues with inattentive audiences or playing in coffee-places to a meager handful of engaged listeners, Wi-Fi users, and espresso machines that drown out even the sincerest, albeit, sparse applause.

One notable exception to this otherwise dreary scenario is the excellent “Women Who Rock” series currently in rotation at the White Eagle and other PDX venues. WWR provides truly wonderful opportunities for women songwriters but, alas, not for men. Another positive exception is the Laurelthirst Pub, which draws a strong, fiercely loyal, but largely neighborhood audience.

My project hopes to provide a new opportunity for a wide range of metro songwriters and audiences to become better acquainted with each other on a regular basis.

With that, I'll close for now. As the breeze continues to drift through my windows while the planet roars onward in its collision course with Destiny, I think I'll work on a new song!

Today marked my last day as a classroom teacher after 31 rewarding years. I've often asked myself how different my life might have been had I not cut my hair in 1974 and applied for a high school teaching position, had I instead headed down U.S. 101 in my rust-red '62 VW bug with my long curls billowing in the breeze, listening to the weak radio signal crackling Jackson Browne's "The Road and the Sky" as I hauled my D-28 Martin and knapsack of wrinkled t-shirts and jeans and a handful of songs scribbled on sheets of looseleaf paper stuffed in a cracked leather valise, songs called "The Avon Lady" and "Mending Fences" and "Wish I Had Someone" and "Alameda de las Pulgas" ("Avenue of the Fleas"), callow songs that lacked the wisdom of experience but which made up for that deficiency with an (over) abundance of earnest passion, driving over the San Gabriels toward the City of Angels. Would I have slipped into the bright hazy purple starlight of something I could only imagine at the time as a dream-come-true or would I have merely stumbled back home through the brown smog, guitar strings and heart broken? I honestly don't know. What I do know is the life I have lived: a life as imperfect, unremarkable, and indistinguishable as the lives of millions of other dreamers who danced for even a short time with visions of the road and the sky, but who cut their hair and rolled up their sleeves and worked in ordinary jobs in ordinary cities and towns and lived in ordinary homes but who found in all that ordinariness extraordinary graces. I was born in 1949 on the Feast of the Three Kings, the Epiphany, and I have finally come to appreciate the paradox of that birthday, of that feast, of that Epiphany: the greatest king comes as an ordinary mewling infant, just as an epiphany can only gleam like James Joyce's shimmering coin against the ashen ordinariness of a Dublin day, just as grace is found in the extraordinary sacramentality of each ordinary moment. So, in the long run, the answer to my question is not found on the road not taken, but on the road I have chosen.

I look out on foggy winter outside my office window. Deciduous trees are scrawny and vanquished without their leaves, while evergreens stand full and resolute in the icy mist. As the nights approaching Solstice arrive earlier, holiday lights illuminate the darkness in step with the ever-shortening days. I see all this through a thin, gauzy veil, trusting that soon daylight will arrive earlier and stay longer, that vernal leaves will shift my focus from sentinel firs, pines, and cedars, and that lights hanging from eaves and shrubs will recede into storage boxes until next winter. This is the cycle, the paradox that ties a year together for me. It is a metaphorical summary for the days and nights of joy, sadness, exhilaration, fear, laughter, tears, hope, and despair that bind us all. Such is this year and any year, I think, for each of us.

A good friend recently shared a powerful story that her father sent her, and I, in turn, share it here:

"An elder Cherokee Native American was teaching his grandchildren about life. He said to them, 'A fight is going on inside me. It is a terrible fight, and it is between two wolves. One wolf represents fear, anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, pride and superiority. The other wolf stands for joy, peace, love, hope, sharing, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, friendship, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. This same fight is going on inside of you and every other person too.'

They thought about it for a minute and then one child asked his grandfather, 'Which wolf will win?' The old Cherokee simply replied, 'The one I feed.'"

I send you blessings, grace, goodwill, peace, and gratitude that you may heal what requires healing, celebrate what desires celebration, reflect on what demands reflection, and feed what needs to be fed.

for family, always loyal & true;
for all my friends, old & new;
for strangers who befriend my songs;
for open hearts, who forgive my wrongs;
for my dog & even my cats,
he's a dear, and they're not rats;
for democracy, where our votes
sometimes count, despite Diebold,
and that this Presidency will end,
though not soon enough for me, my friend;
for nature, that brings all this rain
to test my skill at keeping sane;
for mountains, rivers, lakes, & streams
that make this state a place of dreams
from Bandon's sunny southern coast
to Wallowa peaks & Sisters' snows;
for Portland, the best city on Earth,
those who live here know its worth;
for music, books, films, & dance,
for theatre, paintings, and the chance
to see the world through artists' eyes;
for those who still philosophize;
for people who work to fight PD,
cancer, AIDS -- not just those three;
for food & shelter, clothes & heat,
that we don't live out on the street,
lest we forget when we ask "Why?"
"There but for fortune go you & I..."

While we may not all share the same political opinions, wouldn't you agree that yesterday's national election was fascinating? After the smoke clears, will yesterday's results usher in a bi-partisan scenario, more polarization, or just more of the same? Not only will we see more Democrats in Congress, certainly a majority in the House and possibly a slim majority in the Senate, but the threads in the fabric of the Democrats in office have moved more towards the political center as many moderate Republicans in the northeast were deposed by culturally conservative Democrats. And this also means that what remains of the Republican power-base may be even more right-leaning, albeit less powerful, than it was before Tuesday. As "Laugh-In" comic Arte Johnson used to say, "Verrrry interesting!"

Most of you who know me well appreciate my sense of humor about Parkinson's disease. I'm pretty thick-skinned and even irreverant about it (after all, I am the guy who organized an annual PD benefit show I christened "The Shaker's Ball"). But I did NOT find it in the least bit humorous to watch and listen to that bombastic bully of the airwaves, Rush Limbaugh, challenge Michael J. Fox's integrity and mock Fox's role in an ad Fox made in support of a pro-stem-cell-research candidate running for the U.S. Senate. To Fox's credit, he did not stoop to Limbaugh's level. Instead, he appeared with Katie Couric in a beautifully unvarnished human and humane appeal for reason, compassion, and understanding.

My response is not political or partisan, but simply an invitation to
you to engage your heart and mind in this important issue so you can better discern where you stand and better understand why it is important for you to take a stand in this national conversation. As
someone who has Parkinson's as my companion for whatever is left of my time on this planet, I find this to be a vital conversation.

To see the Couric/Fox interview in its entirety, go to:

http://www.cbsnews.com/sections/i_video/main500251.shtml?id=2129742n

We finished lead vocals today – Reina recorded her final three & I performed my only vocal. I opened the session – kind of to set the pace and raise the bar for Reina (as if!) –with my lead to “Youth Is Wasted on the Young,” an appropriate song for me to sing. I owe a lot to Reina for the success of my session – I’ve studied her phrasing, breath-control, & practice regimen. Thanks to her example, I truly believe my one vocal turned out great (and I don’t usually like recordings of my vocals). Reina, of course, knocked us all out with her three performances.

Bart Ferguson, another dear friend, dropped by today to add his talents with harmonica & background vocals to a few tracks. With his self-effacing charm & his incredible voice, he played harp & harmonized with me on “Youth” & then joined Reina’s vocal on “Something Blue”; Bart then played harp to one of Reina’s four compositions, “Whole New Way.” Bart’s session completed the recording phase of our project. Tomorrow: we begin the mixing process.

Week 2 began today with Reina recording 13 wonderful, amazing, gorgeous, poignant, lead vocals. Her voice stayed fresh & strong throughout a marathon of recording, putting Terry, Dennis, & me in a state of awe. She must have stainless steel vocal chords (though they sound golden)! The secret to her success? Perfect pitch all the time, impeccable phrasing, rich intonation and – for you kids at home – practice, practice, practice! Her leads were often perfect after the first or second takes – I don’t recall her doing a third take today! She is THAT good!

Dear friend Nick Peets contributed his honey-voiced harmonies to five songs. Nick has an exceptional ear for blending with other vocals. He also played guitar & recorded all 17 tracks at his home-studio during our pre-production stage to give our studio musicians tracks to use for practice. His generosity & talent provided us with an invaluable tool in preparing for our time in the studio. Reina & I are so appreciative & grateful for Nick’s help & friendship.

We also took an irreverent birthday “break” today for Terry – a cheesecake topped by an unusual “candle” – ‘nuff said!

Day 5 means the end of tracking all the instrumentals -- so although we may edit & mix them differently, or even edit some of them out, the instrumentals are done! Today's highlights: Terry shakes a $20 egg & Paul plays exceptional guitar & mandolin licks.

Reina & I agree that this recording "high" we're feeling is exhilerating, but she wisely warns that we may hit a lull or even feel sad when the production ends next week. We have much (and many people) to be grateful for; we've had a blast so far & are ready to jump into Week 2, our final week of production.

We accomplished a lot today: Nancy played gorgeous cello parts on three tracks – it’s no wonder she is the Oregon Symphony’s principal cellist: she plays with impeccable intonation and contributed rich, deep color to three of our most delicate, understated songs.

We had a little extra time today so Terry took off his producer’s hat and picked up his electric guitar, slide, & lap steel guitar to lay down the kinds of licks that have made him respected as one of the finest blues players on the planet. Of course, he had to complain that Dennis didn’t have a tuner anywhere in the studio! You had to be there: these two good friends who’ve known each other for over three decades love to tease each other; they’re consummate pros, but even more fun to be around. I can’t remember laughing as much as I have this week.

We closed our session in the evening with Bob Baker playing fiddle on 5 tracks. Wait till you hear his contributions – a cross between Don “Sugarcane” Harris and David LaFlamme (of It’s a Beautiful Day)! Bob did amazing things, almost all in one take!

Another thrill for us today: Peter Boe, who wrote songs for and played keyboards in Robert Cray's band during Cray's heyday of popularity, contributed beautiful piano parts to five songs. Like Tony, Peter was gracious, thoughtful, and genuinely friendly. Reina and I were touched by Peter's professional and personal interest in our project. Thank you, Boe -- you are a gentleman and a superb artist!

Jeff Minnick -- another superb musician and even nicer person -- returned to lay down some simple but spot-on drum tracks to yesterday’s seven songs. He was later joined by Rob and Paul and Reina as the four of them laid down the basic tracks for the remaining songs. Phew! What a relief to have all 17 songs in some level of completion.

Tomorrow we bring in Nancy Ives, principal cellist for the Oregon Symphony, and Bob Baker, an amazing fiddler who contributed to my previous CD, to lay down string tracks. Saturday brings Paul back into the studio to play guitar leads and mandolin -- he is phenomenal! We complete the recording process next week with Reina and I finalizing our vocal tracks, Terry Robb -- nationally renowned blues guitarist -- playing slide guitar parts, good friends Nick Peets and Bart Ferguson adding vocal harmonies, and Bart contributing some of his signature harmonica playing. Then it's on to editing, mixing, and mastering. More tomorrow...

Reina and I were excited today to work with Tony Furtado, who is a world-class banjo, dobro, and
dojo player. His CD, American Gypsy, is one of my favorites; so it was a thrill to meet him and to have him lay down instrumental tracks on five of our songs. What I have found to be true about seasoned, extraordinarily talented musicians -- at least in the Portland area -- is that they are the nicest, most approachable people. It seems the better the musicians, the more down-to-earth they are.

In the evening we worked without Jeff, who had a gig in Prineville tonight; so we recorded basic tracks to seven other songs, with plans to have Jeff add percussion tomorrow. Rob, Paul, and Reina knocked off six songs without a hitch; the seventh song, my vocal contribution, had a few hitches -- enough said!

After nearly two months of preproduction preparation, Reina and I finally stepped into Falcon Recording Studio today to begin recording our first CD together, Even If I Fall, with veteran producer Terry Robb and master recording engineer Dennis Carter. Terry and Dennis couldn't be nicer, more knowledgeable, or more fun to work with.

During the past two months, Reina and I have been planning the budget, gathering musicians, charting songs, meeting with Terry to discuss instrumental arrangements, writing new songs, and rehearsing with guitar-player-extraordinaire Paul Hirschmann and our own lovable bass player from the Shadows, Rob Busey. Today, all that preliminary work has begun to pay off as we had a successful first session laying down basic tracks to seven songs, with Rob on bass, Paul on acoustic guitar, Jeff Minnick of the Paul Delay Band on drums, and Reina on vocals.

My role seems the easiest of all -- I get to assist Terry by saying things like "Yeah, I agree" and "That was great!" and "I don't know, what do you think?” Of the 17 songs we're planning to include on the CD, 16 will be sung by Reina and one by me. That's a lot of pressure on me, because if I screw up I don't get any more chances! More tomorrow...

Dear friends,

After much deliberation & discernment I have decided to say farewell to Rob Barteletti & the Shadows effective after our September 9 show at Mississippi Pizza.

Many issues have factored into my decision, not the least of which is my preference to write songs rather than to perform them. I also need to honor the limits Parkinson's disease places on me, recognizing that I must be prudent about making the best use of my time & energy. Finally, my vision is moving away from the "band" dynamic and towards the "project" synthesis of that in the studio and in occasional live performances I can arrange & produce with various artists locally, regionally, & even nationally & internationally.

To those ends, I have entered into a CD project with Reina Collins & Terry Robb -- which I've written about in previous e-letters. We are currently in pre-production stages selecting, arranging, charting, & rehearsing songs we will record in early August. We are very pleased with our progress so far. The songs will predominantly be my compositions with Reina contributing some; the lead vocals will be almost exclusively Reina's. This distribution of talent will reflect our strengths & be supported by some fabulous musicians, including Terry Robb & Tony Furtado. Post-production plans include a media campaign, a CD-release party, and Reina touring the west coast.

As I move away from performing, I will dedicate my artistic energies to composing, arranging, & producing in collaboration with Reina & others. RB&S may be coming to an end, but, as T.S. Eliot wrote, "In my end is my beginning."

I have enjoyed my bandmates & have been honored that they have shared their talents & friendship with me & my music. Although it is time for me to move on, I look back on RB&S with great fondness.

I wrote "America" today for my daughter, Gina, and others who ask tough and
morally challenging questions about what it means to be an American in a polarized America -- with an administration that governs with lies and leverages those lies through fear, that commandeers our economy in the name of an unjust war to feed insatiable corporate greed at the expense of the poor and others in need of social justice, and that threatens not only our country but the world with its ideology of self-absorption and jingoism.

Young people like Gina ask us to remember that to be an American - a truly patriotic American - is not about loyalty to a government, but about loyalty to the principles of justice that our role as privileged world power requires of us; it is not about waving a flag, but about standing up to a government that dishonors that flag by using it to cover its lies and corruption.

There were two bumper stickers -- opposite in political stance -- that made an impression on me in the late 1960s: one said, "America, Love It or Leave It"; the other said, "America, Change It or Lose It." I feel that same tension in our country today. How we choose to respond to that tension will make all the difference in the world.

On this 4th of July, I can't help but wonder what America means anymore in our world. Maybe it would be better for me to steer away from this topic so I won't risk offending someone. But it is a songwriter's (and a poet's) tradition to be political, to hold the mores of the country and of the world up for scrutiny. Woody Guthrie, Pete Seeger, Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Holly Near, Phil Ochs, Johnny Cash, Paul Simon, Bruce Springsteen, Jackson Browne, John Prine, Neil Young, Warren Zevon, and Kate Wolf, to name only a few, are American songwriters who have taken political positions in their songs, and off stage and off "record," as well. So, I stand here small but in impressive company to share some lyrics to a song that I simply call "America."

We are all soldiers in the fight for America
Some armed with bullets, some armed with words
Some use rifles, and some use their radios
And some beat plowshares back into swords
Some buy their foes off and then claim a victory
They sell their virtue simply to win
And some claim that those who fail to heed history
Are always the ones who repeat history's sins

What arms should we bear in this fight for America
And why should we even battle at all
Whose side is just in this fight for America
Whose voice should we heed when we hear it call

We are all soldiers in the fight for America
Some walk peacefully, signs raised in hope
Some march in high step and call themselves patriots
Some dance in circles and never can cope
Some wear colors they claim are American
They proudly say the flag carries those hues
Some call a rainbow their vision of motherland
A mix of all tones, even red white and blue

What arms should we bear in this fight for America
And why should we even battle at all
Whose side is just in this fight for America
Whose voice should we heed when we hear it call

We are all soldiers in the fight for America
Forgetting too easily we're of one land
We're of one nation, we're of one continent
We're of one world all in God's hand
Some try to justify their will as God's plan
Others gave up on God long ago
Still others just pray to be humble Americans
Loving all people on earth as their own

What arms should we bear in this fight for America
And why should we even battle at all
Whose side is just in this fight for America
Whose voice should we heed when we hear it call
(Copyright 2005-Rob Barteletti)