This Is Not News

Originally intended to be the name of a single album and not an ongoing band, the Alan Parsons Project was a bold concession to early 70s art-rock and progressive rock, fusing the expansive (and often lengthy) compositions of such acts as Yes with the conceptual cohesion of Pink Floyd and Emerson Lake & Palmer. And ironically, the idea behind the Project (for the purposes of that first album) was to dispense with the focus on the performers and place the emphasis entirely on the concept. Little did Parsons – whose experience had included engineering major hits with Pink Floyd, The Hollies and Paul McCartney – realize that the Project would become one of the most enduring lineups of the 70s, 80s and 90s.

The Project was the brainchild of Parsons – acting as producer and musician – and Eric Woolfson, a musician, songwriter and vocalist in his own right who was serving as Parsons’ manager in 1975. Woolfson and Parsons, with the help of orchestral arranger Andrew Powell (whose contributions to the Project would span the next two decades), devised a musical suite based on the works of Edgar Allan Poe. With several solid rock songs, and almost half of the album written as a purely orchestral work, Tales Of Mystery And Imagination was quite unlike anything else. The Moody Blues, The Beatles and Electric Light Orchestra had fused classical instrumentation with rock numbers, but none of them had given virtually one entire side of an LP over to a session orchestra. The rock numbers were skillfully executed by members of Ambrosia and Pilot, whose most recent album Parsons had been involved with, including the amazing guitar virtuosity of Ian Bairnson, who would also stay with Parsons through the end of the Project’s existence and beyond. Read the remainder of this entry »

Rock music is rife with siblings, ranging from the Everly Brothers to Heart’s Wilson sisters to the Kemp brothers of Spandau Ballet. And then there’s the enduring, if somewhat more obscure, legacy of New Zealand’s Finn brothers, veterans of such acts as Split Enz, Crowded House and – finally – just themselves.

Neil and Tim Finn have carved out their own little niche in the pantheon of singer/songwriters, each turning out music with a very distinct character, and each gathering a loyal fan base. Tim’s music often bounces along with a wistful, whimsical flavor, but he’s also turned out some quite interesting, refreshingly un-clichèd ballads since launching his solo career. Neil’s music shows its Lennon & McCartney-inspired roots vividly, with unexpected chord changes, harmonies and experimental instrumentation aplenty; yet the younger Finn seldom turns out anything that sounds like Beatles pastiche, with literate lyrics that manage to be both heartfelt and stream-of-consciousness at the same time, and a way with angst-heavy ballads that no one else has been able to match.

Both brothers’ solo careers are almost proceeding along parallel tracks – they have nearly instant name recognition in Australia, New Zealand, Canada, the U.K. and Europe, and yet they’ve all but stalled in gaining U.S. recognition, their latest solo releases appearing on tiny indie labels. This is surprising, given that Neil Finn was the man responsible for Crowded House’s “Don’t Dream It’s Over,” a 1986 hit that climbed to #2 on the Billboard charts. The uninitiated might be tempted to write that off as a one-hit wonder, but the real story behind the Finn brothers stretches back 30 years – and at least as many hits. They’re just hits that American radio hasn’t taken on board. Read the remainder of this entry »

Editor’s Note: This essay was originally written and published in January 1998 as part of a series. Visit theLogBook.com for part one, and then bug Earl here on the forums for the still-unpublished part three.

From time to time I’ll run into someone who asks me what I do. Simple – I write and produce promos and commercials. Scriptwriting, filmmaking, and occasionally a smidgeon of voice acting all in one. Not a bad package. Until this hypothetical someone – not entirely hypothetical, though – says “Oh, so basically, you sold out.”

You betcha.

Be prepared to hear this line of total B.S. if you plan on extending your creativity into your professional life. Trust me – you will hear it at least once.

Aside from my perhaps too-pragmatic belief that the satisfaction of a full stomach beats the romance of a bohemian freelance-artist lifestyle any day of the week, let’s get one thing out in the open, friends. And this may very well be the moment at which you decide to keep traveling down this road…or back up to take the other exit you just passed.

The moment you make the arts or the media your profession, you are being exploited.

Go back. Read it again. I’m not joking.

You are being exploited. You are allowing yourself to be exploited. It is what you do.

Think about our society. Teachers struggle to keep food on the table, their meager reward for teaching our children. Members of the military, in return for waiting for opportunities to protect our borders – opportunities which may never actually arise in their lifetimes – are lucky to break even. Police officers try to make ends meet…a paltry compensation for their profession, which may be called upon to make sure that the rest of us do not meet our end.

Where is the money in western society?

Recently, NBC renewed the Warner Bros. hour-long hospital drama ER for a staggering, history-making (and, I fear, history-breaking) $13 million an episode.

Until now, million-dollar-per-job fees have only been commanded by major film stars. Now, there’s a good chance it will become de rigeur for television actors as well.

These people aren’t being paid millions to educate your kids. They’re not leaping in front of you to keep a random bullet from kissing you. They’re not even poised for action should a hostile international power try to challenge territorial rights or common sense.

These people are sitting around, eating free catered food, smoking a lot, and pretending to be teachers, police officers, soldiers, and, yes, doctors.

In our society, despite the NEA’s gloomy prediction of what will happen without federal grants, we throw our money – liberally – in the direction of the arts. Think about how much movies and music cost. Books are rising in price. Artwork, even when reproduced for mass consumption, isn’t getting any cheaper. That’s where the money is. (Well, there is medicine and law, but this isn’t a series of essays about medicine and law, is it?) Read the remainder of this entry »

Ever get the impression that you’re the only person listening to a given band or artist? It happens to me. It’s almost as common as the Mystery Melody Malady that overtakes me at various times of the year, compelling me to find and hear a song I know I’ve heard at some point in the past, and whether it’s through a CD purchase or a download, that curiosity must be quelled.

Okay, maybe that’s a phenomenon which is unique to me. I am, after all, a recovering ex-disc jockey, so there’s got to be something wrong with me.

But when the Mystery Melody Malady hits me, I’m likely to go digging through the CD shelf in search of music by the Umajets, the Rumour, Sunglass, Sharkbait, or any number of artists you may have never heard of, let alone heard.

I’m here to rectify that. And perhaps to inspire you to go on your own quest outside of the musical box. Read the remainder of this entry »

Technology is an amazing thing. These days, all you need is a computer a few select software packages to make yourself sound like a professional musician. Often enough, these music-building applications are really built on samples and riffs played by actual professional musicians, and while it’s fun to muck about with that sort of thing, samples and an editing program do not a professional musician make.

However, I do have a romantic fascination with the concept of one person, in a studio, playing every instrument and singing every part of harmony without a backing band or other vocalists. It could be my own shyness at work, but I’ve always thought that’d be a very cool thing to do. I have a low-end consumer-grade home studio myself, and I do quite a bit of instrumental work myself along those lines. I’m not going to try harmonizing with my own vocals until the UN lifts that pesky Geneva Convention ban on my singing, though. They seem to think that my voice will do harm to nearby property and livestock. Really, those 1500 dead cows must have heard something else.

In the meantime, I can enjoy the works of others who have gone this route. I’ve chosen to focus on four favorites from my own library, so the usual disclaimers apply – these artists naturally fall within my own parameters of musical taste and as such, your aural mileage may vary. Read the remainder of this entry »