you don’t hear from me often. and just like that uncle of yours who calls around the holidays to ask for money, when you do hear from me, my tidings are unsolicited, irrelevant to your own goings-on, and often include subject matter that you don’t want your children overhearing (see my past posts on our blog, but make sure you have your parents’ consent first). i guess the only real difference is that i’m not looking for a handout. well, that, and unlike your delinquent kinsman, i’ve never been convicted of a felony. key word: convicted.

i’ve decided, for reasons that are too multifaceted to expound upon here, to end my tenure with good night, states. okay, wipe the tears from your eyes and/or that shocked expression off your face. we’re still friends. at first, it’ll be a little awkward when we both show up to your party and one of us is there with somebody new, but after a while, you’ll just forget about that time we asked you to be the dj at our wedding reception.

i’m hopeful that for everyone involved this change will be an opportunity for continued musical endeavors that are even better. i certainly expect much more great music from good night, states, and i hope you’ll still be listening when their next release becomes available.

i’ll leave it to your imagination as to whether or not i’m leaving good night, states to join the folk-rock band that may or may not have been alluded to in the title of this letter. for my sake, i sure hope not.

to all of our fans and all of my friends and relatives, thank you so much for your open ears and moral support. i hope that you will continue to follow good night, states as they move forward without me. i’ve still got my band email account for now, so you can direct your well-wishes/death-threats here . if you’re a friend or a family member, just call me with your death-threat, preferably after 9:00 pm or via the at&t network.

farewell,

joe

p.s. i did actually receive a death-threat once on a good night, states postcard, but if you were hoping to be the first, be consoled: i take the time to read all my fan mail, and if you really are plotting my assassination, you may even get a reply.

technically, obversity is not a word. what are your thanksgiving plans? do they involve football? (mine do, actually. believe it or not.)

thankfulness is one of those things that 1) i only notice when i really don’t have it and 2) i really need when i really don’t want it. i am stopping deliberately this morning to be very, very thankful, because i believe it’s right; but as is always the case, when i decide to be thankful i realize how truly good my life is. i’m not going to talk now about the specific circumstances for which i might be thankful or thankless these days, but i am going to share a bit of a new song.

i’ve talked, or typed, long-windedly here about my fetishization (also not a word!) of change–i want it, i need it in all forms, i never want it to stop. since there is now a whole lot o’ french spoken here and i am not particularly enamored of french, it’s been very helpful to cast the torrent of new words, phrases and wanton genderization (technically a word, but only if you are a linguist) in my brain as change. it’s new. i can express certain things, albeit just a few at this point, differently than i could before. in some cases, the francophonic (say it with me… not a word) lens lets in a little more light.

change! cultural mash-up! bilingualism! it’s fantastic, isn’t it?

except that for most of history, learning a new language is something one did most often because he or she was far from home, and probably didn’t get there happily. i submit a sad page from early american history involving some of that kind of relocation [say “‘cadien” with a fake french accent (unless you have a real one handy), and you’ll have a big clue].

from the chorus of a new song:

i’m gonna flow down south
and learn that prairie french
make some cajun friends
in the country’s mouth
so long a derangement
they’ll never find me out
when i write it down
in my new language

if my longing for change, newness, is so acute that i can desire true dislocation, as it were, then frankly i am missing something. to value what i have so little is truly thankless, and that’s the obverse: it’s my bizarre, slightly unstable propensity for launching the escape hatch into black space that feeds back somehow into an understanding that i must be really blessed.

ps: i am thankful for my family, my musical family, my job and my cats. i’m thankful for our apartment. i think i’m thankful for french. i am not thankful for nancy pelosi, but i am working on it.

pps: happy thanksgiving.

dear reader,

when i am songwriting, my ideals are healthiest; i am the most unbending, and the swiftest to raze. understand then, that the post you are about to read is not the official stance of good night, states.

the title of this post should probably read “last thoughts on ‘new’ music ‘marketing.’” actually, “‘last’ thoughts on ‘new’ ‘music’ ‘marketing,’” would be better, but at some point that line of thinking would lead me to title it just “thoughts,” and that just doesn’t jump out and grab you. more importantly, i need the reference. i’ve been reading the famous ode to woody a bit lately because, besides the fact that i think it’s some of dylan’s best work, it’s comforting to remember that many of our country’s great artists have almost certainly felt the way i do now.

besides (getting back to the title), i wish with all my heart that this were a eulogy to what we call “new music marketing,” that the misnomered nothingness were dead or at least seriously ill with poor prospects for recovery. i am convinced that many of its tactics are actually driving consumer habits farther from appreciation of real artistry, and may in fact ensure that we NEVER return to the patronage of the truly great. in short, i believe that we are building a new music industry in the perfect image of the old one.

for the sake of limiting the scope of this post to something readable (and writable!) in a single sitting, i’m going to focus my criticism on the democratization of NMM. there seems to be the assumption somewhere in the murky waters of NMM thinking that one of the problems with Big Record Labels is their centralization and dictation of consumer taste; the idea in the new model is to let people “participate,” or have some “interaction” with the music they listen to. the more direct the contact with the artist, the better. to a large extent, this is the direction of our culture in general. we are tired of the representative republic we inherited–drag the electoral college out into the street and guillotine the tyrant!–and would prefer to more directly govern our country of millions. industries seemingly subject to this same sentiment are doing everything they can to make consumers feel that they have similar direct control over their choices.

luckily, there is an incredible new tool available in this 21st century to help these industries: social networking media! like an ICBM of word-of-mouth advertising, obsessive use of electronic social networking by such a large portion of the population gives those seeking to reinvent the music industry a weapon of unparalleled power. want to feel involved in the process of your favorite artists? friend them! follow them on twitter! (maybe read their blogs!)

of course there is nothing wrong with these devices in and of themselves. no matter how insufferable i might find facebook, i am not trying to communicate to you, reader, that it is evil. what i am trying to say is that NMM’s use of electronic social networking media to sell you “relationship” with your favorite artist is pretty much the same as big labels finding a pretty teenager who can sort of sing and putting her in a short skirt and low top to sell CDs. the model is identical: find something that people want, and convince them that your product is that thing. in the latter example, the pitch was sex, and in the former, it’s community.

the new model is worse in part because the trojan horse is not a vice. community, relationship, consumer choice–they’re good things, right? sure they are. but like buying the record with the sex object on the cover, you don’t actually get any of the things you’re being sold when you read an artist’s blog because you seek community, relationship, or consumer choice. and what marketers (new or old–no real reason to distinguish) hope is that your unfulfilled need just causes you to consume more. i’m betting that they’re right.

and we have not yet arrived, dear reader, at the real tragedy. sex may be unrelated to artistry, but consumer choice is in its way diametrically opposed. an artist who does what his fans desire or demand ceases to be an artist. if NMM succeeds in convincing the consumer that their consumption of music is 1) a matter of equal relationship with the artists he or she patronizes, and 2) a matter of ultimate and direct choice, then eventually we will see another market of panders. it will be decentralized instead of centralized, and it will appear that there are no gate-keepers, but it will be filled with pimps and whores all the same. the future music industry–like the present one–will belong to the musicians who are the best at giving people what they want, and the marketers who are best at convincing those people that they want it.

that stuff ain’t real.

are you enjoying the fall air? our apartment is actually quite cold, since september is not the time for heat, and that’s made it an excellent week for hot food.

the weather and temperature have not conferred any special advantage, however, on my songwriting this week. the clear evenings and slow mornings seem promising, often, but i forget quickly how much timing (and precise timing, at that) is of the essence.

generally, things go something like this: inspiration strikes and i write some good songs, effortlessly; then, excited by the new material, i decide to write some more songs; lastly, with much effort and not much success, i give up on writing ’til the inspiration strikes again, and come away with a newly-minted resolution to respect the visitation of that inspiration.

(if i were a literary device, i would certainly be that of the untrustworthy narrator. how do i lose something that i’ve lost and subsequently found so many times prior? on one hand, such a propensity to weakness is something i strive against as i struggle to build continuity of consciousness that i do not feel as a fragmented person in a fragmented world. on the other, each new day brings its newness as strongly as it brings its misremembering. perhaps i should be thankful.)

inspiration: the unseen movement of an unknown, shorthand for what is probably a long list of misunderstood phenomena. all i can say is that it is fleeting.

“boldness has genius in it” comes to mind–perhaps on the subject of an impetus to strike while the proverbial iron is hot?–not only because of its content, but because its widely-attributed author, goethe, didn’t say it. some scottish guy, in a work published 1951, included the famous “translation” with some of his own writings on a similar subject. i suppose it’s possible that he deliberately fabricated the line, but i’d like to think its much more likely that he simply misremembered.

yes, fleeting: both inspiration and memory. maybe there’s only room in us for one.

Megan: “What are we working on this weekend?”
Steve: “Oh. Well, you know, I thought we could maybe…”
Megan: “Look, I need you to know that I have been sick for two weeks, am utterly sleep-deprived, dealt with crazy people at work until 20 minutes ago, don’t have any food in the house, really want to take shower, and can only imagine what kind of mood Trevor might be channeling.”
Steve: “Oh. Thanks for telling me.”
Megan: “So, I’ll probably cry.”
Steve: “Right.”

And my sole purpose for posting this, dear reader, is to warn you that we will soon be embarking on a Fashion Discussion on this here blog. Fashion. Good Night, States. Clothing. Image. Discussion. Rock’n'roll. Oh My.

It’s okay if that makes you want to cry, but for heaven’s sake, at least look at some beautifully dressed people while you are having your little sniffle. The Sartorialist is a favorite blogger of mine.

I’ll return to this topic soon. Fashionably later.

other highlights include fantastic guitar tone from both myself (new speakers, KT77s) and joe (new speaker, mojo), seeing part of meeting of important people’s set, and some good laughs at tim’s idea for a “tutoring & repo” business (your scores improve or you lose your house!).

on the whole, though, this is the part of the plot where The Real Meaning of the story’s events are really called into question. the moral is unclear. after all, joe and i can have excellent guitar tone, eat well, and fine each other $129 at home and without 13+ hours of driving.

dear reader, even for those of us who believe in more than coping, some days feel like a page of hemingway.

or something like that. in our case, the real version would now include a very polite state trooper. although we are still on track to wow the passersby at WPTS Day, the speed of our progress and the height of our spirits are both somewhat reduced. this has now become quite an expensive trip.

ah, troopers. how faithfully you discharge a duty of such immorality. if only you could be persuaded of that which we, the frequent travellers of pennsylvania interstates, know in our deepest parts: your law is no law at all. it is bare graft, collected with undisguised coercion, only designated a “tax” by the ultimate destination of the lucre squeezed from the common man.

if only i wrote protest songs.

that’s right; it’s me. i’ve missed you all. i decided some weeks ago to return to blogging here with a vengeance, but now it’s happening and i couldn’t be happier.

actually, i could be somewhat happier. the occasion of my first post in over two months is not, truly, something about which i’m particularly excited. owing to some not entirely unforeseen but certainly uncontrollable externals, joe and i will be departing shortly from nj to play a c. lunchtime show in pgh, and returning shortly thereafter to nj. (go ahead, check the time. i’ll be back here by 9 tonight.)

so… though i am sadly without brilliance or insight at this hour, you can look forward to blogs and tweets throughout the day that will no doubt keep you informed of our progress in an entertaining way.

ps. did you like “in the impossible tension?”

nevertheless, i need to briefly weigh in on this iphone/touch/noise.io thing. we’ve been seeing it show up quite a bit on some pretty tech-y sites (engadget and synthtopia, for two), and we here at good night, states, are getting that the gadget-and-synth-savvy world gets this.

i’m quite flattered by the attention, but make no mistake: i didn’t program these sounds for synthheads (though i probably qualify for that label myself). dear reader, you who claim to play no instrument, who do not own your very own modular synthesizer, who frankly are not even sure you can do this, know that this project is for you! gn,s thinks synths are so great, everybody ought to have one; we like making noise over a pretty song so much, we think everyone should do it.

and what’s the worst that could happen? so you don’t play it exactly right this weekend. it’s ok. you’ll get better. (maybe we’ll even invite you to a rehearsal or two.) in fact, several of the sounds will probably respond wonderfully to any mistakes you might want to make, and that tiny speck of unpredictability in a universe of planning is really the point. art is humanity. humanity is unideal.

again i say, you can do it, dear reader. you can stride confidently to the front of the stage, device in one hand, lowly earbuds in the other. you can make the happy accident.

For Example:

Steve built his own amp, pedals, and pedalboard.

Joe built a tweed pedal board and an off-board tremolo/reverb unit to go along with his trusty Pro Jr.

I (Trevor) have slowly, but surely been building my expertise in the way of analog electronics by crafting guitar/bass effects pedals. Most of them have been clones of classic pedals (EH Big Muff, EA tremolo, Maestro Brassmaster, etc).

So, last night, I made the jump into amp building and purchased a 5c1A (’53 Champ) kit from Weber Speakers. I’ve been pretty stoked to begin on the kit since I helped Joe out with his Tremolo/Reverb unit. I guess the main reason that I got the amp kit is because Megan & I recently purchased our first electric guitar. It’s a 1967 Kalamazoo, which was Gibson’s answer to the Fender Mustang/DuoSonic/Bronco. It sounds pretty good, but I’ve only been able to hear it through my bass amp. I’m looking forward to hearing it through the Weber amp.

In addition to the amp, I’ve been working on a BYOC Analog Delay pedal, which I will be turning into a table-top console for use at our upcoming album release of In The Impossible Tension. Really looking forward to the sound that a fully analog 1 second delay will bring to the live versions of the songs.

When I get everything finished, I’ll post pictures for those who are interested in how the projects turn out. As for how they sound, you’ll have to come to our In The Impossible Tension EP Release Show on September 11th.

Here’s to hoping that I don’t burn my fingers with the soldering iron!