December 20, 2009
Bonjour, Bueno, Hello, Hi. jason shannon reporting to you from the arctic heights of Prospect Park, a frozen freckle of land in between the Frigid Cities. i’m scribing to you from about 500 yards from the Witch’s Hat Tower, the highest natural plot of land in the Cities, and the rumored place of inspiration for Bob Dylan’s “All Along The Watchtower” (now we all know that isn’t true…...)
It’s been a cold one here. you remember how crocodile dundee could tell the time of the day by looking at the sun? minnesota’s got a similar thing going. you can tell what day of the year it is by how long you have to let your car warm up before getting into it and freezing to near-death. but it’s weird. usually minnesota slowly revs its way into winter. but this year has been pretty mild with a sudden clutch-popping, high-gear shift into Shiverville. Usually, ‘round this time, like clockwork, you hear natives and immigrants to this land whisper, “why do we live here?” i ask the same thing myself and then keep moving.
So i got my space heater pumping, my licorice tea brewing, and i’m plotted down at the computer to write about my take on the year 2009. the highs, the lows, the whoa’s, the bro’s, and most importantly, the ho’s…..because as an alleged rock star, after all i said and done, the single most important thing to me in this universe, is female adulation, female validation, female copulation, female transmorgrification, etc etc. now if i only knew what “transmorgrification” meant, i’d be set…....
Nah, but really…...if i were some local music writer or some hipster blogger, i’d write, in the third-person of course, that “jason shannon has had a breakout year.” i’d then go on to talk about my rollicking band, my “rootsy” sounds, the impassioned singing, the “slick” album i released, and last but not least, the whereabouts of my former, red-haired violin player (she’s out there doing well, i believe).
So in musing about this year, I’ll try to answer some of these questions in regards to Then—Now—and Soon to be. You might find me headed off on a couple of tangents and you might quit reading. This is gonna be a long one. So grab your space heater, your licorice tea, throw on some Perry Como or Johnny Mathis, and enter The Bramble Of Ramble.
First off, lemme say, honestly, I hope this has been a good year for you…..the reader….wherever you are out there on whatever path you’re taking, whatever ditch you’re landing, and whatever stitch you’re mending. If we’ve crossed paths over this year, I hope the exchange has been of worth and honesty. If I’ve burned the bridge that unites us, forgive me and build another one that we can cross together in peace. If you don’t want to, don’t. If I’ve helped etch a new footpath from one place of truth to another, the traffic is two-way. This year, has, by faaaaaaar, been one of the most interesting of my life. So I’ll explain a little if you care to hear….
JANUARY:
After three months of preparation and a year-and-a-half of sonic/artistic perspiration, I celebrate the release of my first solo record with my band. It marks the beginning of a whirlwind year…..highs and lows…..the whole 100 yards. We throw a huge party at the Varsity Theater in Minneapolis, one of the coolest venues in town and a tough place to fill. It’s a ballsy move on my part because up to that point, I don’t know if more than 75 people have been out to see us at once. But I send a few emails to the booking guy there and assure him that I can fill the place. I’m not sure I can, but I assure him because that’s what you do when you’re a dreamer and an honest schemer. So the months preceding the show were filled with all kinds of ballyhoo….writing personal letters to music writers, sending my disc to the local taste-makers, adding myspace friends, sending emails, having all day rehearsal sessions with my 7-piece band, emailing photos, writing bios, liason-ing with my website builders….basically anything related to promotion. I even took out ads in the paper (for two months) and stuffed magazines with fliers for a month straight. One night, when it was snowing harder than ever, I got into a car accident on the highway and hit a Toyota Camry that two guys were fixing on the side of the road. I got out of the car and saw two shell-shocked Mexicanos bleeding through their winter jackets. Needless, to say, my eyes blew up like they do in the comic books and I rattled off a necklace of expletives and prayed to a God whose existence I sort of question daily. Firetrucks came, ambulances screamed, and I stood on the side of the road, locked out my car, and fearful that I had just killed two makeshift mechanics. And yet, selfishly or not, one of the first things I could think of besides their health, was “man, i sure hope i get to play the release show…..and geez, i hope people come.” (p.s. nobody died)
And people came. A lot of people. Almost 600. Relatives flew in, neighbors stopped by, strangers peered through the doors, and people intrigued by the two months of marketing of a man on a ladder near Lake Superior bought a ticket to see what the deal was. And the band, psyched by months of anticipation (you don’t know how many times I heard the question, “Are you almost done with the record?”) was looking dapper and ready to hit the stage. And we hit it hard with nothing to lose and, maybe, something to prove. There were cameras everywhere. We were nervous backstage. I even bought a steamer and sat in the back room and steamed my throat and face for an hour or so…..all the while being filmed by a hired crew! And like that, it was over. A success. Money made. Discs sold. Reviews in. We were on the scene. Hello Minneapolis and Saint Paul.
Then the next week, we packed up our bags and did the same thing 60 miles away in Saint Cloud, as an opening act, to an audience of 25. Our hopes and dreams and egos were tempered. We’re just a band. “It takes time and hard work”.......the phrase you hear and repeat to yourself over and over and over.
FEBRUARY:
After the whooplah of our opening month wore off, I did what anyone would do when attempting to be realistic about future prospects. I started trimming the fat. The band went from a 7-piece to a 5-piece in about three days. I issued the “future plans” manifesto (based on goals and guts) and asked everyone to think seriously about their availability because we were about to travel and tour and I didn’t want anyone on board that couldn’t be. So like that, I asked one person to step and then another person voluntarily left and suddenly we were 5.
And now I’m searching for some help. The first person to reach out and offer their assistance was a friend of mine who saw the kinda ship being built and thought they could help drive it. She met with us a couple of times and, like always with anyone in this inspiring position, offer the sky as the only limit. Everyone was buzzed. We met with a touring agent and discussed regions and lengths and guarantees and press. Everything seemed on the upswing.
Then about a week into the project, reality (and various other things I’ll never understand) struck our wide-eyed assistant and she bowed out. No explanation. No nothing. In fact, we went from being friends to never talking again. And to this day, I have no idea why. And really, I don’t care. Time to move on.
The next sequence of events prove to show the strangeness in which the universe works. After years of being out of touch, an old high school friend of mine contacts me via Facebook. She wonders what I’m up to, if I’m still doing music, how the career is going, and if I need any help. I quickly respond back and say YESSSSS! She tells me she knows a guy that I could connect with and that he’ll be near the Cities doing some tour managing for Dwight Yoakam. She then quickly asks me to drive out to a casino grand opening Dwight is headlining to meet this “guy.” “Bring CD’s!” she says…...so I do. Keep in mind: this particular night is one of the coldest I can remember. And I drive an old truck so the heat is pretty minimum and I’ve got a headlight missing. This could be dangerous. And it’s so last minute, I can’t find an accomplice. All I know is that I don’t really want to go, but something in me is saying, “ah, just drive out there. it’ll be all good.”
So I drive out. And it’s colder than all hell. The only thing that keeps me going is Tom Petty’s “Damn The Torpedoes” and the thought I might be meeting someone that could help me get a larger break beyond the confines of the Cities…...because, after all, my goal is to be a touring artist making a living on the road and I’m gonna do whatever I gotta do (other than playing and working on songs) to make that happen.
I get there. My feet are ready to be shipped off to the grocery store for holiday consumption. My boots are hard like concrete and I’ve got a handful of CD’s. I go backstage, I shake hands with a bunch of strangers, eat pizza I didn’t order. I get in line to take a picture with Dwight Yoakam. He’s not interested in any of this. In fact, you can see he’s mildly checked out. I just wanna ask him about Warren Zevon. I sit through the Dwight show, sandwiched between two people I don’t know and surrounded by a horde of people screaming for “Guitars, Cadillacs, Etc.” The show’s done and I’m ready to crash. I hand off my disc, cross my fingers, feel mildly out of place, thank the people who’ve helped me get there, and look for a room for the night. It’s booked. I drove home…..this time kept alive by Bruce Springsteen’s “Nebraska”......in particular the tracks “State Trooper” and “Highway Patrolman”. My phone’s dead and there’s not a soul in sight. If my truck dies, I’m a goner. I remember thinking, “man, this would be a shitty way to go out…..”
A few days later, I get a call from the guy I was supposed to meet. He wants to “talk”. He likes what he hears. He wants to know my plans. I say, “Plans? Plans? I want to go as far as I can go in the business, man! I wanna tour the world” And to sum it up, that was that. We sat down for coffee, talked about music and the music business and made a deal. And along with the deal, he agreed to make happen all the goals I was visualizing.
MARCH-JUNE:
And so off we were. The band was stoked. Everyone in the group has been really ready to get out and travel and play and see the countryside. This looked to be our time. I didn’t think twice about slaving it in Minneapolis for years, trying to build a crowd, playing bar after bar after bar. I’ve already done that kinda thing since I was in my early 20’s. I’d rather play bar after bar after across the U.S. until it turns into club after club after into theaters. That is my goal with this group. I’m past the point of playing the clueless artist card. I know what I want and I want to “make it.” And in this case, “make it,” as of now, simply means making it out of town and making a living that doesn’t involve couch surfing and Chuckwagon dieting. And connecting with music lovers.
So the goal was to make a list of artist that I could tour with. I’d pick the biggest names and next-to-biggest names. After all, the music business is the wild west. There’s more shit thrown at the wall than a crazy house full of turds. So I made a list.
And the first one to bite hard was Bob Schneider…...and his tour was all around the country. just what i’ve been looking for. so we took it and packed the boat in accordance with the journey. i’ll leave out all the minor details, but let’s just say it was quite an undertaking to get together and that everyone was really excited (even me, and I don’t excited about too many things….).
The tours, as I’ve written in the past, were some of the best times I’ve ever had. We were doing exactly what we set out to do AND…..people seemed to be liking it…..which is nice considering every night we went out there, we were strangers to a crowd foaming at the mouth to see someone else. Chuckwagons, every day at noon, were tolerable. Even riding on bumpy-ass road at 2 AM in pouring rain was a cause for celebration.
Of course, there were some weird things. We couldn’t see our friends. Internet was wack. Showers were a rare commodity. And everyone seemed to have a mysterious case of “RV Throat”.....a sickness that felt like a small rodent had crapped in your larynx and was having rodent babies. Bunk. On top of that, sleep was brutal and I’m not sure if everyone knew how to handle partying from city to city. But all in all, the time on the road was amazing and we met some fans that are still writing to me for us to come back. And yes, I promise we’ll be out again sooner than later.
JULY—
So we get back home. unpack. unwind. and get going again. we play the hot main stage at the Taste Of Minnesota…...followed by Low Rider and Bret Michaels. It’s creepy, sweaty, and a slice of life from an unedited episode of the Twilight Zone. management is working on getting us back out there. they’re pushing the record. the days are piling up. the band is wondering when we’re getting out there again. I’m wondering too. Every tour we’re about to get on falls short of being the right fit. Meanwhile, we’re hanging out in town and wondering how to proceed. I’m told to not be entirely concerned with the city because “you’re a national touring band, jason.” so i settle down and go, “okay.” we’re a national touring act. but we’re not touring and i don’t have any more fingernails.
As the last months of summer roll out to sea, we’re on the shore waiting. eventually, i decide to book some shows around here and begin working the area…..but it’s tough because you can’t play the city too much and getting people out is challenging if you play all the time. i feel like we’re a really good live band that plays a different show each time, but not even people with amnesia wanna see the same thing over and over again…...unless you’re Phish or something.
I’m still writing music and trying to keep up spirits but it’s a tough time. i don’t know if anyone outside of our inner circle knows, but we’re in a strange state of limbo as how to proceed. i’ve learned, first-hand, that when you combine the artistry with the business, it puts a stranglehold on that sense of playfulness and fun associated with music and creativity. I now understand what musicians mean when they say their time onstage is so valued after all the other stuff is said and done. I feel like a captain stranded at sea, surrounded by a crew threatened with scurvy and seeing mirages in the shape of venues and soundchecks. it’s tricky. i’m tired and frustrated. for a guy who’s relatively chill, positively funny, and definitely determined, i have simply lost my cool.
To deal with the feelings of immobility, i decide to start recording a bunch of songs I really like that I want to share with people…..ones that won’t be on a record but deserve to be heard. so, to keep my band feeling like we’re doing something, I devise the EP Collection and we steadfastly begin tracking these songs. actually, the guys in my band quickly lend me their talents and we work the parts out and they track them. what i didn’t realize is how focused and borderline obsessed I would become with getting these songs to match my inner vision. i know of some artists who find it fulfilling enough to simply write a songs. they leave the rest of the process up to someone else. but for me, that’s like visualizing a killer painting and concept and not going out and buying the canvas and laying it down. i just get really really into it. almost to the point where it’s ridiculous. But, in the end, for the most part, i get what i want. i work on every single thing…..every molecule of sound. my fingerprint is everywhere but the goal is for it to feel seamless. so i let the band track everything live and then i piece it together and mix it according to my sonic vision for the song…..which i’m not entirely sure enough at the get-go.
that’s been a tough task and rather than inspiring my bandmates to come in and record, i think it actually had the opposite effect. i was spending way too much time on this stuff, not writing, canceling some rehearsals. it was grim. on the one hand, i consider it a productive mistake with a bonus learning experience…...i really got to hone my chops in terms of mixing songs and learning about EQ and compression and perspective, etc. I was reading and watching videos and learning how to make these tunes jump off the speaker and i think i took a pretty big step in that direction. that way, i’ll at least know how to explain to a professional mixer what I’m after when i’m sitting at the console watching him tweak knobs.
And after all that intense labor…...hours at the computer…...and I mean HOURS…...i released the first EP on iTunes and was about to release the second one and my management asked me to not release it and to wait. they had plans and thought i was better off not putting it out. You’d think I’d be totally pissed about the command, but I was actually a little relieved. I had thoroughly fulfilled my lifetime quota of mouse clicks and eye squints. In fact, I just went to a masseuse to get my mouse clicking hand healed up.
i guess the main reason i wanted to put out the EP’s was to have something fresh for people to hear. i don’t enjoy being contacted by people from around the country asking me where to get music from our tour only to be able to tell them a lot of it isn’t officially recorded. and I’m just not that into my first record enough to quench their thirst that way. I don’t know why. Maybe that’s just my nature. People tell me all the time about how much they like it and that they jam out to it all time in their car. All I can think about when I hear it is wishing i had more time to craft it into something a little more raw and dirty sounding. The other thing about the situation is that I have a band now and I want people to hear the sound of a band, in a room, making my songs come to life. That’s what I want to give to people and that was the idea behind the EP collection. But for now, I’ve cryogenically frozen the EP Series. i’m sad to say. RIP EP. Come back some other day.
The most humorous thing about this whole journey is how wrapped up in it I have become. It’s almost like I don’t know how to be a person who just sees the little things…..the things I attempt to write about. It’s like the Lord Of The Rings Trilogy. I almost feel like I’m one of those people that got a taste of the Ring and now I’m just foaming at the mouth or something. Like I’m a future junkie! That’s it. I’m a future junkie. There’s no cure. I’m cracking…....ahhhh… I guess all those hours reading Krishnamurti and meditating in the Lotus position and listening to Eckhart Tolle didn’t work so well. I still want something more than is in front of me. It’s sad and true and I can swallow it for now. But at least I can feel things and honestly I can say that I’m writing from the heart, shooting from the hip, being true to my instincts. And really half of my instincts are met. The other half are the desire to travel and play. No wonder I’m currently half-a-headcase. Does anyone know a lobotomist? I want one for Christmas.
I was watching Along Came Polly in bed last night. I’ve never seen it. It was on USA network and i stopped and watched. Ben Stiller’s in it and his character’s dad doesn’t say a word the entire movie until the very end. He tells another character in the film, one who’s struggling with their place, “it’s the ride, man. you’ve got to enjoy the ride!” and you know the movie itself was sorta ridiculous but that was the only part that i really heard and felt….it was almost as if i was supposed to just hear that.
i know….it’s a corny resolution….one that has the sound of a hallmark special written all over it….but i’ve decided to enjoy the ride a bit more. to chill. to just get back to having fun being in a band and writing the best songs i can for the love and joy of it…..the whole reason i do it in the first place. I tried on the ring. It don’t fit so good right now.
so anyway, i’ll end this mammoth blog by saying thank you to anyone who’s helped us along the way this year. thank you thank you thank you. it’s been an eye-opener. i’m thankful for what i’ve got right now…..my health, my friends, my family, and just the fortune of having some guys to hang out with and laugh and play music with…..my band….thanks guys…..it’s a cool thing…..a gift. so whoever is out there spinning the wheels on the car that makes us all go, thanks for giving me this space in time. i’ll do my best.
Now I’m off to a show…......
Happy Holidays!
jason