After our shows in the Midwest, Evan and I had to cut westwards across the country in time to perform in Washington and Oregon. We did, however, have just enough time to cruise around Montana and take in some of its breath-taking scenery and national parks. Most of Glacier park was still closed due to snow (as was Yellowstone), but the main access road was still open and allowed us to see some cute deer and a stunning mountain sunset. You can view the entire photoset here on my Flickr account, or just take a look at the above slideshow.

Highway in Louisiana near the Texas/Louisiana border. A beautiful lake, with people fishing everywhere. Stopped here for a late lunch.

Some old derelict barns in Illinois, at the start of our journey.

Me playing a beautiful Rosewood/Cedar Taylor GS-series guitar. Very nice. Preferred the Mahagony/Cedar though! :)

View out of the car window in South/East Texas, nearing the Louisiana border.

The used (mostly vintage) guitar tradeshow at SXSW on Saturday and Sunday. Very, very cool show with plenty of classic guitars.

All apologies for having neglected my blogging duties over the last month or two. I only have ten days left in New Zealand before I head over to the States. The US tour is shaping up nicely – though, admittedly, I have been a bit slow to book in the final 5-6 dates (I’m aiming for a total of roughly 20 shows). My main focus, aside from some wonderful developments in my personal life, has been to finish the recording of the new album.

Although I won’t get it all done in time, I’m still incredibly pleased with the progress we’ve made over the last two months. Pretty much all of the instrumental parts to the twelve songs are now tracked, and what is left to do now is record vocals, mix the album, and get it mastered in the States. Even lyric writing, which traditionally takes me the longest, has been going far better than I had anticipated, with the majority of lyrics being near completion.

My good friend, Rob!

Contrary to A Maze and Amazement, I’ve decided this time around, to get a few more people involved in the making of the forthcoming record (which, as of writing, is still without a title). Most importantly, I opted to enlist the help of my friend Rob for tracking purposes. Although I have been recording all of the synth and drum machines at home, I wanted to get some outside help in recording guitars and live drums.

As the recordings progressed, Rob and I decided to organize some live brass for the album, as well. So this week we enlisted the help of Scott Taitoko (a stunning jazz trombonist) and David Cox (Christchurch Symphony Orchestra’s principal horn player).

Rob’s sweet 80’s drum kit.

Now, truth be told, I was a bit nervous at first, as I had to prepare proper scores for both of them to sight-read, and I haven’t written anything for horn or trombone since my composition days at university. Safe to say, I was a tad out of practice! However, as unsteady as my footing was, I enjoyed feeling like a music student again, trying my hand at composing music for all these wonderful and unique instruments.

Writing for trained musicians is a marvelous experience under almost any circumstances, but Scott’s and David’s sessions just utterly exceeded all of my expectations.

Scott and David, in short, were utter professionals. Both sight-read extremely well, they were utterly focused and very positive throughout their sessions, they took direction well, and, most importantly, delivered powerful musical performances that will play an indispensable role on this album.

In addition to recording Brass, Rob and I decided that a handful of songs could stand to benefit from some strategically placed live drumming. Consequently, Rob asked his old friend, Steve, to lay down a few drum tracks. Both, Rob and Steve, used to play together in a band called Throw, and Steve, like Scott and David, totally delivered in his session. We got some fabulous snare and cymbal work to add color and realism to what are mainly electronic drums on this album.

Rob’s friend, Steve, laying down tracks for a new song called “Afterthoughts”.

Last, but not least, I was really happy to get Evan to contribute some of his mad-scientist-synth-skills for the new record. Having proven to be such a strong and creative musician over the last two years of playing together, I was very keen to get Evan more involved in the actual studio work, as well.

So, in conclusion, Rob, Evan, Scott, David and Steve, have all done a fantastic job – thank you! – and I can’t wait to start mixing the new album in February and March, and see how it all turns out. Exciting!

7.30 in the morning. Ouch. I was feeling a bit light-headed and my tummy’s growling sounds gave me this distinct feeling that it would rather not yet be put in an upright position. Still, today was the day of my first solo show in my de facto hometown of Christchurch, and I had to start setting up around 10 am in order to kick off my set early in the afternoon.

After skimming my email inbox for messages not pertaining to penis enhancements, I began loading up the car and went through my mental check-list of things I ordinarily forget (powerchords, extensions, batteries, rosin, bottle caps, spare strings, et cetera).

The morning was already shaping up to be a rather special one. It was sunny, and the air was finally beginning to warm up after an excruciatingly long and dreary winter – a winter that pretty much began on the first day of autumn, six full months ago, and finally seemed to come to an end this very morning.

After stopping for a quick coffee, I was first to arrive at High Street Projects, the gallery where I was to perform during the Lovecraft arts and crafts fair. After carrying my entire equipment up two flights of stairs, Fran and James emerged from across the street and casually suggested I might prefer to use the elevator instead. Oh well… no harm done in getting a bit of morning exercise!

The space was gorgeous, with the morning sun brushing over the hardwood floors. I set up in the far right corner of the gallery and proceeded to soundcheck whilst everyone else was setting up their tables with lovingly made arts and crafts. Tim and Anna, both of whom studied with me at Mainz last year, came over with the PA, and very soon we were all set up and ready to go. It was truly shaping up to be a fun event!

Right before the show, however, I was actually starting to feel a bit uncomfortable, as an older lady had come up to me at the end of my soundcheck and complained about the volume (which was already really, really quiet compared to regular live concerts… no, really!). The lady even went as far as to threaten those present with packing down her table and leaving, as her “customers” wouldn’t be able to hear her otherwise. Now, I honestly felt bad for her (she clearly seemed a bit out of place), but I couldn’t help but notice that she was so soft-spoken that her customers probably would have had plenty of troubles hearing her, even amidst the deadest of silences.

Anyhow, the fact that I was about to perform a rather challenging and somewhat polarizing music to an audience, most of whom, of course, had not even come to hear me, started to fuel my anxiety. My live set isn’t really “entertaining”, per se. If you’re into the kind of music I perform, then great, but for the people that aren’t into brooding and mournful music, I have no troubles imagining that my set can quickly turn into a source of some annoyance.

Thankfully, once I started to play, my fears subsided. I quickly withdrew into my own world and, only after my set came to an end, did I actually realize that quite a few people had gathered around to watch me play. Despite a very embarrassing error early on, I felt quite comfortable about my performance.

Now, loopers are a dangerous tool! Their immense musical potential is matched only by their infinite potential for causing epic disasters. What happened was the following: The first song I play is an instrumental piece that builds layers upon layers of guitars, slowly transforming quiet melodies into a soaring hymn of distorted guitars. The thematic development usually takes me around 5 to 6 minutes. This song, incidentally, is also a great song to warm up to and check the levels between guitars and synth, and so I almost always make it my go-to song during soundcheck. No different today.

So, after building up all the loops during soundcheck and getting to this huge cathartic moment, I decide “yep, that sounds pretty good to me”, stop the overdubbing, stop the loop, and wander off to get another cup of coffee before I have to start my set.

Fast forward to my performance…

I’m on stage, quietly playing my first guitar line after building up a synth drone. Everything is calm. People are looking expectantly at what I am doing. People are skeptical about machines, you know? They want to see that you actually play most of what is coming out of the speakers.

So, there I am, three minutes into creating cautiously silent synth drones, and I’m about to introduce the first of many, quietly restrained guitar lines. I take a few steps over to my looper in order to overdub a tenderly bowed bass line, I step on the overdub button, and…

ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAR!!!!!

Ten, maybe twenty distorted guitars are screaming out of my amp and I just stand there like a deer in the headlights, internally cursing at myself for forgetting to clear my looper’s memory after soundcheck! Anyhow, after a few eternally long seconds, I decided to take the only reasonable course of action I could think of: add more guitars!!!

Ha. I guess that’s what you get when you put a naturally clumsy person like myself in a room with a looper. Live and learn! :)

So, after the somewhat botched opening song, I then proceeded to play Afterthoughts, then another new song, and then I finished with my slow rendition of Darkwave. What sounds like a short set, probably added up to about 40 minutes, a duration which seemed appropriate to me, given that there were more bands to follow.

Ultimately, I felt rather happy about my performance, and had an absolutely wonderful day hanging out and catching up with friends and acquaintances, perusing all the wonderfully creative arts and crafts on display, and meeting new people all throughout the afternoon.

Spring had finally come, and it couldn’t have done so on a more appropriate day.

Remember the rock of the car: the lulling sway of steel frame throttling over veined asphalt towards the hazy blue horizon still suspended in space.

Whir of the wheels, the clickity clackity cassette tapes clattering underfoot – the laconic drawl of Neil Young’s “Harvest Moon” crackles lazy from cheap speakers.

The backseat – my head pressed against vibrating glass – sky stretched to infinity. A glowing burnt gold of a late, invisible summer sun.

Driving through anywhere nowhere, it never really matters; the gold and the heat and the drone and the millions of miles of waxy green cornfield stalks whipping past lines of Venetian blind crop formations with thick paper leaves that shimmer shake with the passing car.

Window and windshield cracked, wind snaking around and sifting through my hair. 11-years-old with nothing more in sight and in mind then the timeless tranquil crawl between earth and road and sky. Remember the stillness.

-Mary Jones

More photos at photobucket.

I couldn’t help but notice the fact that I only saw two stages, not three. Turns out I was on a fools errand, as the third stage was actually located right behind the stadium, and not inside it, as I had assumed:

This actually strikes me as an excellent solution, as it means that our more intimate set won’t be drowned out by the massive P.A. of the main stage. Furthermore, I am so relieved that they decided to place the CHART stage inside a tent, rather than just setting up a small stage in the middle of nowhere. The advantage, aside from being weather-proof, is that a tent helps create a much more intimate environment, which should be of great asset considering our sound and performance style.

I’m looking forward to this now! We’re on from 11.45 to 12.20 am, and although most ticket holders probably won’t be arriving until far later in the afternoon, we’ll be playing our heart and soul out for those 35 minutes. As the Germans say: “Morgenstund hat Gold im Mund” (“Morninghour has Gold in it’s mouth”).

The moral of the story? We’re excited about Southern Amp and German proverbs are the stuff of lunacy.