Category Archives: essay

Tape Decks I Have Known

And, now while we change servers, we’ll hear this lovely organ interlude…

[Update: the move went almost perfectly. It was eerie. Anyhow… no music this post. Your ears needed the rest.]

Nostalgia: Tape Decks I Have Known

Yes, before women and the bottle… I had another love…

I’ll spare y’all the 3340-S’s and 3440-S’s, the Series 70 1/2″ 8, or the 40-4 that is, I think, my last remaining reel machine. (All those were TASCAMs by the way.)

We’ve all seen our share of most of those, probably.

But yesterday I was pondering this picture I’d earlier stumbled across on the web of (an instance of) the first tape machine I did an overdub on, circa 1964, Sony TC630. (It belonged to my “rich” cousin and it was an object of great envy on my part. But he was also generous enough to loan it to me a few times, including to do the preprogrammed music for my grandparents’ 50th anniversery party, for which I also recorded my mom dueting with herself on “The Anniversery Waltz” — my first overdub.)

While I pondered the glory that had been the TC630, half-watched on the TV was the Mystery Science Theatre 3000 DVD of The Crawling Hand.

I looked up from the photo of the TC630 just in time to see one of the characters in the movie opening a small tape recorder… it took a second but I realized it was a copy of the same, no-name, no-capstan $20 battery powered tape recorder I got for Christmas in 1962 — my very first tape recorder.


The Machine That Started It All for Me

About halfway through the message he’s taping to tell his girlfriend and her professor uncle that he’s turning into a monster he goes into monster mode and smashes the poor little machine (How poor was it? So poor it couldn’t even afford a capstan. Buh dum.)

Or tries to smash it. The plastic top goes flying right away — but it was made during the waning days of the overbuilt-metal era of Japanese transistor consumer electronics — and no matter how the teen-monster kicks and stomps it, it remains amazingly intact…

Around the beginning of my senior year of high school I pulled my savings together and bought my own stereo 7″ reel deck, a Sony TC-250a… it was $119, fair trade, IIRC — and it was NO TC630… you couldn’t even record a single track at once — just what was effectively “joint stereo,” so there was no overdubbing possible. That would have been nice but I didn’t play an instrument then and I mostly wanted to make my own mix tapes and… you know… stuff.

My first plug in tape recorder, also a Sony, a little hazy on the number, was a 5″ reel transistor-tube hybrid machine (transistor recording preamps and tube power amp). I HAVE seen a picture of it on the web but foolishly didn’t save it — and haven’t seen one since. It had a molded white heavy styrene top and a coral colored grill and underpan. I really loved that thing but sold it for something like $3.50 at a yard sale in the early 70s. I guess sometimes you gotta let go. The kid who bought it probably had a lot of fun. I hope.

 

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I’ll be loving you until I’m put in my grave…

A diamond ring in the gutter

A sense of betrayal hung over America when this song was written. It was so heavy you could taste the bitterness in your mouth.

That feeling seeped into seemingly every aspect of our lives, from religion to family, to romance, like a corrosive leak, slowing eating its way through the infrastructure of our lives.

I wrote about that in the political sense when I posted this song before but I neglected to explore the broader implications of that acidic doubt and distrust… how it ate into not just societal institutions like government, schools, jobs, church, but right into the family and and the most intimate relationships between people.

Everything we knew was wrong.

That’s how it looked, most days.

But when I wrote this song — one of my very first — I wanted to craft a simple expression of faith in love in the face of doubt and fear… or get laid. I can’t remember which. Probably the latter.

But it’s a nice little song, anyhow, I think.

Internet Archive page for this recording

previous AYoS versions
Thursday, Oct 27, 2005
Sunday, March 19, 2006

What Promises Mean Today

I know what promises mean today
I don’t care I believe in you anyway
I don’t care what anyone says
I’ll believe in you until I’m dead
But at the rate things are going
That could be any day
I don’t care
I believe in you anyway

You say you’re my lover
my sister my brother my friend
I’m surprised you don’t claim
to be my mother my father
and the priest that the church said they’d send at the end

And I still don’t care what anyone says
I’ll be loving you until I’m put in my grave
but at the rate things are going
that could be any day
I don’t care I believe in you anyway

I know what promises mean today
I don’t care I believe in you anyway

(C)1974, TK Major

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Bygone days…

Victrola

 

I have a real soft spot for the music of thirties — and there was, of course, a great leap forward in technology between the scratchy records of hte twenties and the relatively good sounding records of the 30s. Also, the advent of affordable amplification tubes took record players from the all-acoustic stylus-to-cone system to something that could entertain a room full of people.

But recording was still pretty documentary, at that point… multiple mics and mixers could spotlight instruments and help achieve creative blends and “moving” mixes (instead of having soloists literally move closer to the recording cone for solos during the earliest days of all-acoustic recording).

Now… some great recordings were done in the 50s (particularly in jazz and classical)… the fi was finally hi… toward the end of the decade, people started tracking with an eye toward stereo.

But — and the fact that I came more or less of age during the decade undoubtedly is not coincidental — for me, some of the most creative arrangements and recordings came out of the 60s.

Multitrack technology was still somewhat limited. Most pop was tracked to 3 or 4 tracks (and much of it was still recorded with little thought of stereo mixes)… but there was a burst of arrangement creativity that exploded across pop music… everywhere you turned, people were mixing it up, stylistically. Folkies snuck in electric guitars and keyboards or went the other way with (often quite creative) string and woodwind arrangements. Jazzers adopted some rock elements but also reached outside traditional ways of looking at jazz — and even music itself — adopting composition techniques from orchestral avant-gardists… and rock… rock/pop absorbed it all and mixed it up even crazier.

The creativity extended into the 70s, of course, but that was also the era when the suits started really getting scientific about how to coopt and manipulate musical and social trends… the early 70s “underground disco” scene which had seemed so cool, even subversive, all but died out but eventually was K-marted into the Saturday Night Disco Fever Era… Within a decade, the outrage and provocation that had been the original punk rock was being marketed in mall stores targetted to supplying off the rack punk wear to “disaffected” suburban youth. (“Disaffected” from any meaningful culture, I might say, cynically.)

There’s been plenty of cool music since, of course, I’ve enjoyed a lot of hip hop over the years, I liked the electronica scene during the 90s, I liked the new blues movement where hip hop and other postmodern elements reinvigorated some beloved but shopworn forms, I appreciated the return of roots consciousness to the periphery of the country music scene.

But… you know… I was almost a teenager when I first heard the Beatles… I was an angry young man when I got into the political bands of the era like the (old) Jefferson Airplane or MC5… I was a questing outsider listening to Jimi Hendrix or Bitches Brew… I guess it’s kind of predictable that I’d be drawn to the music of the era when I really came alive as a music listener and began to think that maybe I, too, might find some way to make music.

And now… completely unrelated… a song I wrote a few years ago…

Who’ll Stop Lorraine?

Internet Archive page for this recording
May 11, 2006 version
December 16, 2005 version

I’ve known Lorraine since we were kids
and I’ve always been amazed
Every time she went too damn far I thought
Who’ll stop Lorraine?

I saw her hunt down Billy Jim
he was doomed from that first day
I saw her rip his heart in two and thought,
Who’ll stop Lorraine?

From the hotel bar to the airport lounge
Everyone knows her name
Over and over I ask myself,
Who’ll Stop Lorraine?

Finally one day I’d had enough
I sat her down looked her in the eye
Lorraine I love you, girl, but straighten up,
’cause, Lorraine, you’re wreckin’ people’s lives

From the hotel bar to the airport lounge
Everyone knows your name
Over and over they ask themselves,
Who’ll Stop Lorraine?

I never thought Id see a tear in her eye
I never thought I’d see into her soul
but since that day she’s come so far
and God I’ve come to love her so

From the hotel bar to the airport lounge
Everyone knows her name
Over and over they ask themselves,
Whatever became of Lorraine?

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Iraq Study Group Blues

Iraq Study Group Blues

I’ve been working with a new tuning on guitar and it’s promising but I’m not there, yet.

That has not prevented me, mind you, from posting the results of those modest efforts about a week or so ago (“My Second Mistake”).

Earlier today, I’d finished some vexing work and I’d sat down with the notion of feeding the gaping maw of A Year of Songs with a little recording… but I was having a heck of a lot of trouble getting going.

Internet Archive page for this recording

Every time it seemed like I got a little momentum, I’d stumble over the finger picking or some basic left hand move. And my overall timing was enough to give a listener heart arrhythmia.

I took a quick break and while I was washing my face I had the radio on. I realized that National Public Radio was doing an hour news special on the release of the Iraq Study Group report and I’d meant to listen.

So when I got back to the computer, I clicked on my desk icon for the live Internet stream from my local NPR station. Since the stream is delayed by 20 or 30 seconds, I didn’t actually miss anything.

I listened attentively but idly picked up my nearby guitar — a typical move when I’m listening to public affairs or news on the radio.

When I noticed absently that my playing sounded a lot better now, I decided to pop the radio stream into my headphones and off the speakers so I could record and listen to the news special at the same time. In fact, while I often do, I didn’t even put my guitar in the headphones, since it just made it a little harder to hear the radio stream.

I recorded one not quite 3 minute improv and thought it sounded okay — but found out I couldn’t listen to it and pay sufficient attention to the radio to follow the story — which I was still intent on.

So I put it aside. As I was listening to NPR, I got the itch again and quickly hit the red button, playing for a little under two and a half minutes.

I’d barely paid attention to my playing and it was my perception that it was probably worse than the first. I put it aside too.

When the show was over I listened to the tracks. The first was indeed much, much better than I’d been doing earlier but it was still disappointing. But the second was almost acceptable.

So almost-acceptable that, with the notion that the theoretically interesting back story might just be enough to make it briefly interesting, I’ve posted it here in today’s entry.

If you listen carefully, you’ll likely hear the mosquito buzz of the news special in my headphones as I listen to it while improvising the single guitar.

With regard to the story and comprehension (as we used to say in my 7th grade speed reading class)… I’d say I’d get a 90 or better on a tough quiz.

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Internet Archive page for this recording

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