bosco's blog

I started doing my taxes this week, and it inspired me to do a make-believe version of an annual investor call on twitter, just like the Big Companies. I think I was reminded of my days at Amazon.com because of the fact that my business grew a whole bunch this year, both in revenue and expenses. I remember listening to those investor calls, and how the execs would explain that yes, the company made a zillion times more money this year, but no, still not profitable yet. Now I know how they felt.

I was just having fun, but the results were pretty interesting, so I thought I would make some pie charts and share some thoughts on the data. I'm not going to share the real dollar amounts with you, because I wasn't raised that way.

First off, total revenue for my Sole Proprietorship was up 250% this year (not 400% as previously reported). That's a pretty big jump and I initially thought that the grant I received from the City of Seattle would account for most, if not all, of that spike. If that were the case, then the jump in money coming in would be a welcome increase, but an anomalous one.

However, when I broke out the numbers, it became apparent that something else was happening. Here's a breakdown of revenue for 2009.

(click through for more)

It's Monday morning, November 9th and I'm back here writing about Zubatto Syndicate, so the premiere must have gone well, right? Right! I want to thank everyone who came out to see the show, braving some of the worstest, weirdest, wildest Seattle weather I've seen in a long time. All in all, Thursday night felt like a vote of confidence, from the audience and the players, in the music and the concept of Zubatto. It will take me a little while to figure out the ramifications of that, but it seems certain that there will be more Zubatto in the future. More on this soon, so stay tuned.

In the meantime, I'm going to continue sharing some of the different processes I used during the writing of the (first) music for Zubatto. Over the course of the preceding few years, writing music for my quintet, for jazz orchestra, for Nickel & Brass, I was constantly running into the fact that I wasn't devoting nearly enough thought to role of the rhythm section. I think this is a fairly common (bad) habit in jazz composers - we tend to think vertically from the top down, starting with melody or harmony, arranging across all of the other instruments, but often leave the rhythm section (especially the drums) for last, or even to their own devices. Parts for the bass and drums often only get fleshed out when the composer has something very specific in mind, like a distinct bass line or a drum groove - that is, as the exception, and not the rule.

My sense is that it is a combination of inexperience or lack of familiarity/confidence with notating drum parts or rhythm section feels/grooves and the implicit permission to be sparse that is given by the use of lead-sheet style parts in combos of all sizes. It's much easier to give the bass player some chord symbols and slashes than it is to fully develop a line or feel, and, hey, this guy over here does it all the time so it must be okay, right?

I think it can be a completely fine approach, as long as you are prepared to be happy with whatever results might occur and you have a large rehearsal budget. It can be great to leave everything to a particularly creative rhythm section, but even the best players will want to know what you have in mind, especially in low-rehearsal situations (and aren't they all?). Also, if you're going to have to verbally explain it (and if it's not in the part, you will), you'd better think about it just as much as if you were going to write it out. I'm as guilty as anyone of assuming that we'll "figure it out" in rehearsal or that maybe the rhythm section "will have an idea of what to do there." These seemingly time-saving measures only come right back out of rehearsal time, which is generally much more expensive and crucial than your own writing time. Plus, if you have something written out, the players can still come up with something cooler. On the other hand, if you don't do your legwork for rhythm section parts, there's the possibility of blank, frustrated looks and wasted time.

For me, unfamiliarity also played a strong role in my "strategy" for rhythm section arrangement. I've often just assumed that a bass player or drummer is much better suited to figuring out a good groove for a tune than I am. Another composer that I admire once told me, in reaction to this, "That's not always true. You're the idea guy. You know what you want." Or at least, I should know.

Ultimately, I came to the realization that I needed to start erring on the side of more rhythm section detail in my music, and that I needed to do substantial work and research to become as comfortable working with rhythm as I am with harmony.

For Zubatto, I wanted to incorporate elements of all kinds of music, especially rock and hip-hop, a mission which provided a perfect jumping off point for a new approach in rhythm section writing.

For starters, I did a ton of research. I read and worked out of as many rhythm books for drummers and rhythm section as I could find, both "collecting" grooves or parts that I liked, and studying the notation. I also transcribed many songs (and especially drum parts) that had incorporation potential.

The next step, was to flip my writing process on it's head, literally. For nearly every idea I had on this project, I started writing with the rhythm section. Beginning with a drum part/feel, I would add a bass part next, and then write melodies on top of those that worked rhythmically. Whenever I had a melodic or harmonic idea first, I would work to marry it to a rhythm section idea almost immediately.

This is where the mockup process described in part one was vastly helpful. It's easy for me to work on music vertically (each stack of harmony in time) or horizontally (each line over time), but it's a little harder for me to do both at the same time, besides very slowly on the piano. To get immediate feedback on how these ideas - drums, bass lines, harmony, and melody or melodies - were working together at tempo was invaluable.

The results, to me, are striking. This music has strong forward momentum, and a real sense of motion that I haven't always heard in my own work. Writing on top of drum and bass ideas inspired funkier, and ultimately more interesting rhythms in the melodic lines as well. Learning to write drum parts makes you a better writer for everything else - that's my bold declaration.

Rehearsals were also greatly improved, as the rhythm section was often up and running with relative ease, which in turn really helps all of the musicians find their place in the groove.

Finally, I am about a zillion times more confident writing for the rhythm section today that I was back in June, when I started. I plan to keep working in this fashion, especially when I begin to work on new Zubatto material which is already beginning to percolate.

I'll be back with part three in this series, dealing with melody and harmony, soon!

I thought I would take a break from the business of selling tickets to next week's Zubatto Syndicate premiere (available here!) and share a glimpse of the creative process behind this new music. There were a number of deliberate choices I made about my process and approach while writing this music that are a clear departure from my previous Standard Operating Procedure. I also found ways to support and reinforce some things about my writing process that have always served me well.

Historically, I have always fared better when writing a ton of music that when I am working on a few pieces or even a single piece at one time. When I have a few months to create and arrange a single piece, I tend to agonize over it, often procrastinating over every step of the way, and the results will be often be disappointing (at least to me). Last year, in anticipation of a gig as guest-conductor for a local jazz orchestra, I had hoped to present one new chart for the show (in addition to the six I already had). Relative to other recent projects, I had all the time in the world to work on this new tune. Ultimately, I abandoned it mid-sketch - nothing about it was working for me, and I vacillated between feeling like I was pulling teeth and like I was relying on repeating the same old tried-and-not-so-true tricks just to get it finished.

For Zubatto, I knew I had to write around 10-12 new tunes in a fairly short amount of time. I began working in June, and set a goal to be sketching for the full group by late August or early September. Rehearsals ended up beginning in early October. To be certain that I would have enough material, and enough of the "right" material, I wanted to generate a *lot* of ideas. At that point, I had an idea of the sound for the group and the music in my head, and a number of guiding statements that I scrawled in a sketch book in the form of pithy aphorisms (More on those another time!), but I didn't know how to translate those vaguely imagined sounds and concepts into musical statements.

The solution was the creation of an "idea factory" process. For much of the summer, I spent the first four days of each week just tinkering around on the piano, working out new melodies, playing with chord progressions, working out cool rhythm section parts - and so on - and writing down the results. If I heard something that I wanted to play with, or had a conceptual idea, or thought of something while away from the piano or guitar, I would add that to a "To-Do" list and work on some of those every day, too.

Fridays were designated as "Mock-up Day" - the day on which I would do simple Finale arrangement of every idea, usually 2 or 3 staves plus rhythm section parts. Each mockup/idea received a number, in sequential order (Number 1 was the very first thing I worked on, 36 was the last). I'll talk a little more about the role of the mockups in the next installment. These would then be forgotten (for the time being), in favor of adding more and more new ideas to the pile.

Every few weeks, I performed an inventory on all of the mockups, giving them two ratings: one for the "coolness" of the idea (highly objective, of course) and one for the "bakedness" of the idea (an 8-bar meoldy alone would have a very low rating on the baked scale, a 32-bar form with a complete rhythm section part a very high one, and so forth). This provided me with a reasonable way to begin to prioritize the ideas when it came time to begin sketching for the full group.

When it came time to get more organized, I began to divide everything into small groups. I didn't want to stop generating ideas until the very last possible moment (in fact, several of the last ideas I came up made the final cut), but I also wanted to be sure that I wasn't left with too much development and arranging (and too little time) at the very end. Pieces that were high "coolness" and reasonably baked went directly into the "To Sketch" pile. If a piece had a high "coolness" rating but wasn't very baked, it went into "To Work On" pile. Everything else went into a last pile, with a name that isn't really worth repeating.

I continued to refine and add to these piles, until I had around 15 tunes in the "To Sketch" pile. That (and the proximity of the first rehearsal) was my signal to stop the R&D and move full time into sketching and copying into Finale.

Some stats! I made mockups of 36 different ideas. Of those, I ended up sketching 13 full band arrangements. 10 of those made the setlist for the concert. Their numbers are: 2, 7, 8, 9, 14, 27, 29, 30, 35 and 36. So the first couple of weeks were very fruitful, as were the last couple. In between, not so much.

The best part of this way of working may still be yet to come. I now have a good-sized pile of orphaned ideas, many of which may yet have a future (high "coolness" rating!). On the other hand, in the last week or so, I've begun to get excited about starting to work on new ideas for the next round of Zubatto Syndicate music (many of these are already popping up when I'm trying to sleep or write annoying Facebook pleas for ticket purchases). Just another reason to make sure the premiere is a big success on November 5th!

In part 2 of the "Writing for Zubatto" series, I'll talk about working with the rhythm section (and rhythm in general) for the music of Zubatto Syndicate. Maybe with some fun examples!

Two weeks to go until the Zubatto Syndicate premiere at Town Hall. If you don't have your tickets yet, you can buy them here:
http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/86349

Last night, I had the pleasure of attending a presentation and mixer for all 39 2009 CityArtist winners. It was great to hear about all of the different projects that were funded, and an honor to be selected along with such amazing peers. I'm especially excited to check out "Bloody Henry," a puppet show by Brian Kooser, and Tiffany Lin's project which will create new instruments from the parts of old pianos and then perform newly composed music on them.

All of the funded projects sound amazing and are all incredibly diverse in concept, tone and material. I encourage you to check them all out and support these artists.

As part of the presentation, I played approximately 3 minutes from recordings of the latest Zubatto rehearsal. Ordinarily, I would rather eat my shoes than post something like this, but since I already put it together, I figured "why not share it with my blog readers (hi, Mom!)." Anyways, the recording quality is horrible, and there are some warts, but consider it a teaser for November 5th!

More recent news:
* I talk about Zubatto and pants with The Sunbreak's MVB:
http://www.thesunbreak.com/2009/10/19/where-the-wild-jazz-things-are
* Seattle Magazine says to "Go" to the Zubatto show, "so you can tell all the Johnny-come-latelies you heard it first." Yeah.
http://www.seattlemag.com/0p66ev1530/zubatto-syndicate/

Rehearsals for the Zubatto Syndicate concert on November 5 at Town Hall are underway. The music is coming together slowly but surely and it's a real joy to hear everything finally come to life in the hands of players of this caliber. This is my favorite part of a project like this - hearing your work take shape and develop into something with a life of its own.

On the one hand, the creative side of the work on this project is (mostly) finished. However, the work that remains is the hardest part, at least for me - the part where I convince people to plunk down $15 on a ticket, and plunk their selves down at Town Hall in just a couple of weeks.

It's hard because, as an independent musician, I'm sure that I must sound like something of a broken record. "This is the biggest, most important thing I've done, and it is so important to me that you support it and be there." The thing is - it's true every time for us indie artists. Each project we put out there is an escalation, an attempt to raise the ante a little or a great deal more. All with very little to no support. This time, I'm raising the stakes pretty high.

I've got a band of 12 musicians, complicated music that needs to be rehearsed, and a big hall that, frankly, is stretching the budget very thin. Beyond that, I have plans and ideas for this group that extend beyond this year that are pretty darn audacious and totally ridiculous.

Without the support of the City, this project wouldn't even have gotten off the ground. The support of the Office of Arts and Cultural Affairs has given me a chance to realize what was, just a few short months ago, a figment of my imagination. Now, it's in the hands of you - my friends, family, fans and all of the music lovers out there that haven't (yet) heard of me.

For this music to live and to gain a momentum of its own, I need a turnout at Town Hall that is larger than any draw I've had to date. The target, when compared to other performers, is pretty modest, but for me, it's a huge leap.

I can't express enough how excited I am about this group and this music. I want this band to have a future, but I can't do it without an audience. You may be thinking "I'll catch the next one" but there won't be a next one for Zubatto Syndicate without a great audience turnout and response to this one.

You might have prior commitments or other plans, and of course I understand this, but (at the risk of sounding desperate, which I am) I'm hoping you'll consider whether your existing plans could potentially happen on a different night, or might be shuffled. I'm almost certainly asking too much, but that's how much I want you to hear this music.

If your plans can't change, you can still help. Do you know someone who loves exciting, funky music that's a little on the different side? If you can't take them to the show, buy them a ticket. Student tickets are $5 - a bargain!

So please, if you are on the fence, or haven't bought tickets yet, please take a moment and order your tickets now. I promise you will not regret it.

http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/86349

I hope to see you there on November 5!

Today, I received my first payment from the City of Seattle for my latest project, the details of which I will be announcing later this week. I've been working on the writing non-stop since I got word that my project had been awarded funding. So it's nice to reach my first "payday."

Along with congratulations (for which I am very thankful), one of the reactions that I've been getting pretty consistently to the news of my funding has been a variation of "I'm surprised that they're still giving money to the arts during this economic crisis." Sometimes, the tone suggests mild disapproval at the flip-flopped priorities of spending money on the arts when the City's budget is in serious crisis. This is an understandable reaction, but also contains an unfair and, ultimately, inaccurate representation of arts funding as frivolous.

When used judiciously, arts funding can be a meaningful and wide-reaching economic stimulus. Let's crunch the numbers together.

There is news coming very soon! For now, enjoy the tantalizing logo graphic above. I have been busy writing up a storm and putting together an amazing group of musicians for my soon-to-be-not-so-secret project. Details will be released soon.

In the meantime, you can still get a free copy of Four-Color Heroes! by following the very simple directions found here.

Want a free copy of Four-Color Heroes! on CD? Here's how to get one: become a fan of yours truly on Facebook (if you aren't already) and repost/share this blog post on your profile. Take a screenshot of the post on your profile and email it (with your mailing address) to freecd@boscology.com. I'm going to add your email address to my mailing list too, so let me know if you'd prefer not to subscribe. I don't send out very many newsletters.

If you aren't on Facebook, you can still win. Post a link to this blog entry or my Facebook page on twitter, your website, blog, myspace, favorite bbs, in an email to your cousin - anywhere really - and send me a screenshot with your address.

Help spread the word about my music and Four-Color Heroes! and I will send you a CD, absolutely free!

As with so many people my age, Michael Jackson was an important, complicated, tragic and mythic figure in my life. His death stirs up a whole host of memories and feelings, many of them from a time in my life that seems as far away as the image of Jackson that originally meant so much to me.

For me (and for millions of people), that image comes from May 16, 1983 - the broadcast date of the Motown 25th Anniversary Special. It was during this (lip-synced) performance of "Billie Jean" that suburban (and mostly white) America got it's first view of the adult performer, and his now ubiquitous Moonwalk. I remember watching the show on TV with my family and the palpable excitement in the room from seeing him glide across the stage. For the following week or so, I did my best to emulate the Moonwalk on our beige carpet. I believe my brother was old enough to be properly mortified, but he might have tried it once or twice too.

(more after the jump)