Tag: music

Billy Gibbons on a fellow guitar player

I thought this was fascinating, being the perspective of one great guitar player on another:

So much has been said about Prince but I do think it’s important to remember that his guitar playing was, I don’t know, just sensational. Tell me how you’d describe it.

Well, to borrow your word, sensational is about as close a description of Prince’s guitar playing as words might allow. I believe that the feeling one was left with, if afforded the luxury of actually seeing Prince perform … we’d be looking for other superlatives. Because it’s almost got to the point of defying description.

You had an interesting encounter with Prince.

It was following the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame 25th anniversary celebration [in 2009]. They had a two night grand hurrah at Madison Square Garden and I was invited to perform with Jeff Beck. And following that appearance, I found myself back at the hotel and I wandered off in search of some late-night grub and my favorite 24-hour joint was shut down for unknown reasons. I tiptoed across the street to the Tiger Bar. I was just standing at the front and I was approached by a rather large gentleman and he said, ‘You’re wanted at the corner table.’ And there was Prince sitting all by his lonesome. And I gave him a brief tip of the hat and sat down and said, ‘Hey man, it’s so good to see you.’ He said, ‘It’s so good to see you. Let’s talk about guitar playing.’ I said, ‘Why not?’ And in the next two hours we really dove into the depth of his intent, interest and focus toward technique and tone. I left that evening even more mesmerized than I’d previously been, just knowing the sincerity that Prince kept toward his playing, his performing and his all-around showmanship.

You’re a little bit older, you come from Texas and I’d imagine you first learned about Prince in the early ’80s, when you were both MTV stars.

As you may remember, he began bubbling up without a lot of advance fanfare. There was just this vague knowledge of this new guy on the scene called Prince. And then, of course, we all got our world rocked when “Purple Rain” showed up at the theaters. Even today, I’m struggling to try and emulate that guitar introduction to “When Doves Cry.” It’s just a testament to his extraordinary technique.

Wait. When you say emulate — you mean you try to play it and you can’t?

I continually come back to attempting to piece together each and every one of those segments. And it’s very short. It’s not an extended solo by any means. But the way it is delivered. There’s certainly no way to write it. You’ve just got to dive in and feel it to see if you could come close.

What I find so interesting about these tributes from famous musicians is that they almost precisely echo what I’d heard from so many less well-known musicians around the Minneapolis scene in the early 1990s. Most of you probably never heard about Power of Seven, which was my short-lived effort to improve the music in the game industry, which ended up in little more than a few soundtracks for SSI and Bungie. But the Seven referred to the seven individuals originally involved, one of whom was Mike Koppelman, who engineered, mixed, and mastered Diamonds and Pearls before going on to found Bitstream Underground.

He, and others like the member of The Revolution who recorded a single with Paul Sebastian before we founded Psykosonik, always spoke about Prince and his attention to detail in awed, almost reverential tones. So, I’m not surprised to hear that even a great guitarist like Billy Gibbons was impressed by his knowledge and technique.

This is why I, and others, find it irritating when people dismiss him as being just a pop star. It’s like calling Mozart just a piano player. There is both talent and skill that goes into both musical performance and composition, and virtuosos of either are extremely rare. An individual who is a true virtuoso of both is practically a unicorn. Then throw in the voice, the multiple instruments, the engineering, the conceptual sensibilities… it’s literally unimaginable to me. I can more easily grasp Julius Caesar or Socrates.

And while one cannot reasonably expect Prince’s music to survive the test of time in the manner that Mozart’s has, one also cannot say that he did not make the most of the incredible talents he was given. Like everyone else who had anything to do with music in Minneapolis, I am absolutely itching to know what is in that vault. It’s been said for literally decades that he was putting his best stuff in there rather than let Warner Bros. have it, and said by some who are known to have actually heard a few of the tracks. And Prince being Prince, the chances are good that quite a lot of it is actually finished work, rather than bits and pieces of various song ideas.

Can you imagine if there is another Purple Rain in there? Or another two or three?

Bleeding purple

It’s not often I miss being in Minnesota. But I would have liked to have been back at First Avenue last night for the party celebrating Prince’s life and music. I can’t think of a better place for it.

I talked to several of my friends from Minnesota over the last day, some of whom are still there and some of whom are not. And it’s been bittersweet to see how all of them, at least to this extent, still bleed purple. It’s a little hard to explain the sense of loss to non-Minnesotans, because it’s simply not about celebrity worship or the death of a popstar, as so many people understandably, but mistakenly, think.

It feels more like losing a cousin of whom you were inordinately proud, in part because he was so proud to bear your name and be a part of your family. Practically everyone I know had some casual connection with Prince, be it a chance encounter somewhere, a friend who worked for him, or a mutual acquaintance. It’s not a very big city, after all.

Minnesota, and Minneapolis in particular, has always had an irrelevancy complex. And not without reason; everyone at my East Coast-populated university seemed to be astonished that Big Chilly and I were not some sort of lumberjacks or farmers, while we were surprised at how… backwards they were, especially with regards to music.

But Prince not only put Minneapolis on the map, he genuinely loved the city, the state, and the people. And in that place, at that time, with that particular demographic mix, people really did genuinely transcend the usual racial issues; it took me several years away from Minnesota and six months in Tokyo to understand that certain differences actually were relevant, and just as importantly, mattered greatly to nearly everyone of any color. Perhaps only in Minnesota would a black man describing someone not liking “his kind” be referring to work habits and not race.

Prince was a part of that, both cause and effect. It was interesting to hear both his manager and some of his black bandmates talk about how growing up in a 95 percent white community affected the development of his music; they listened to KQ92 and all the classic rock just like we did because there simply wasn’t anything else on the radio besides news, classical, and terrible 70s pop on KS95. In Minneapolis, we didn’t even understand the concept of “crossover” music because it was considered normal to have a black bassist in a white band or a white guitarist in a black one; in fact, one of the members of the larval form of Psykosonik was black.

Don’t think I’m saying this as some form of virtue-signaling; you know I
don’t believe in that. I’m simply trying to describe the innocent, and
fundamentally naive, mindset of the time, which is probably not
unrelated today to disastrous things like the settlement of Somalis on the West Bank or Liberians in Coon Rapids. (I know, I know,
oh, the irony.) There is probably an interesting historical study to be done there regarding the optimal level of a minority group in a population.

As for Prince, there was a sort of etiquette everyone understood concerning him. You did NOT make a big deal about him. You didn’t tell him you were a fan, you didn’t tell him you loved his music, and you didn’t take pictures of him, you simply said “hi, Prince”. He would usually smile, accept the homage implicit in the recognition, and go about his business. If he wanted to talk to you, he’d send his bodyguard over to let you know. On more than one occasion, I had to warn out-of-town guests not to react to him being around, but everyone in Minneapolis just seemed to understand that Prince was not to be bothered. Maybe it has to do with the Scandinavian ethic, I don’t know. It’s just how it was.

It is sad that such a beloved son of the city died alone in his incredible studio-mansion. But I have no doubt that he knew his hometown loved him, as the photo above shows. I know many, perhaps even most of you, won’t grasp what Prince meant to his fellow Minnesotans, but even if you don’t, try to understand that we are mourning one of our own.

Minnesota mourns

The artist known as Prince has died. He was 57.


Prince’s body was discovered at his Paisley Park compound in Minnesota early Thursday morning.


Multiple sources connected to the singer confirmed he had passed.

I’m very sorry to hear this. Like many who grew up in Minnesota, his music was the soundtrack to my youth. Playing on stage at First Avenue was surreal, because it was the stage he had owned. Playing on stage at his own club, Glam Slam, was an incredible experience. I met him several times, usually at The Perimeter, and he was unfailingly civil. For a world-famous pop superstar, he was astonishingly approachable, and I never heard anything negative about him from my many friends and acquaintances who encountered him everywhere from the nightclubs and recording studios to the car wash.

There are some people who seem larger than life, and it seems impossible that they can die. Prince Rogers Nelson was a unique musical talent who had a special relationship with his hometown. His music will live on. Here is hoping that his huge collection of unreleased recordings will one day be released to the world.

Sugoi desu ne!

It is no doubt true that 95 percent of the world’s weirdness comes from Japan. But sometimes, the result is glorious.


Metal Resistance comes out on April 1, 2016.

Can confirm

“If you say “Vox Day” three times, he might appear in a malignant cloud of brimstone and a thundering bassline of techno.”

All right, so it’s more House than Techno, but this was always my favorite mix of “Silicon Jesus”. Unless you’ve got the CD single or came across it in a club, it’s unlikely you’ve heard it before. Called “House of Jesus”, Paul did it, although he threw in the little keyboard riff that Dan borrowed from 2Unlimited.

The one thing marring it was the bizarre two-second”XXHHHRRRHH-XXXHHRRR-RRRHH” that somehow got added in the mastering process at 4:35. I still have no idea how that happened, but Wax Trax! was in too much of a rush to get the CD out to fix it. And granted, a two-second flaw deep into the 5th remix of their new band’s first single just wasn’t a major priority to them. The Duality mix was the studio mix that they were pushing on vinyl. Frankly, I thought it was too disjointed and that most of our mixes were better.

Anyhow, one thing I always thought we did very well was to do entirely different remixes, to the point that some of our fans genuinely thought that the “Welcome to My Mind” CD single was a new album.

Memento mori

For me, the best thing about all these Baby Boomer icons beginning to die off is the way that the godless narcissists who made a quasi-religion of them are in total despair about what it says about something they have denied for decades, namely, their own mortality. I don’t think Ed Driscoll is GenX, but he sounds as if he is in this take on the Eagles’ breakup:

So let me get this straight: throughout the documentary, a running leitmotif is that the band was desperate
to add some decent rock under their soaring harmony vocals. The band
fires British superstar engineer-producer Glyn Johns (whose previous
resume included the Stones, the Who, the Beatles, and Led Zeppelin’s
first album) because he emphasized their harmonies and country sound. In
response, they bring in Joe Walsh to rock out. And finally, when their
other guitarist does something that’s actually rock and roll and utters a punk rock-style sneer to corrupt power, the entire band implodes?

Perfect.

But I’m glad for the many fans of the Eagles that they got one last chance to see the band on tour last year. I’m told it was an excellent concert; while I wasn’t a fan myself, I had a lot of respect for them as songwriters.

Still, the Baby Boomers are dying, and soon we will have a chance to remake the civilized world they spent fifty years doing their damndest to destroy. Let’s learn from their mistakes, shall we?

We have certainly learned that nothing good ever comes of believing yourself to be eternally young and cool. And wisdom and experience should always be respected, not dismissed out of hand.

I love it when a song comes together

The one thing I miss most about Psykosonik is the process of creating a song from scratch with the guys. Whether it turns out the way you first conceived it in your head or not, the process is always an interesting experience.

After Gene and I mixed and mastered the record, I listened back and knew we had something. I took a promo copy up to the Bronx and played it for my friends. But when the 45 ended, there was complete silence. Everyone looked at me, and someone said, “Dion, what did you do to it?” They were remembering that night at Ellen’s party and the spontaneity of what we had done.

I never thought I had screwed up the song, but I knew what they meant. I had had those feelings before—a record not quite capturing what I had intended. But with “Runaround Sue,” I knew I had nailed it, even though that didn’t come across for my Bronx friends.

After “Runaround Sue” came out in September ’61 and hit No. 1, I went to the old neighborhood for a party. My friends said, “You know, we couldn’t really hear how good the record was at first, but it sounds good now.” Ellen gave me a hug and said, “Wow, what a birthday gift to watch that song come together.” By then, the song’s attitude had grabbed everyone’s spirit. But you know, as great as that song sounds on the record, it was even better at Ellen’s party. Sad but true.

I get a little of the same buzz from designing games and software, but because the process is so much longer, it’s nowhere nearly as emotionally satisfying. With the music, you can hear it decades later and still recapture a little bit of what it felt like at the time it was all coming together. It’s really less about the destination than the journey.

Fighter Verse 5

Fighter Verses Songs: Set 5 (English Standard Version) is comprised of word-for-word Bible passages (English Standard Version) set to music. These passages are specifically selected to help believers fight the fight of faith. The Fighter VersesTM Songs also coordinate with the five-year Fighter VersesTM Bible memory program from Children Desiring God.

This CD includes 33 songs (over an hour of music) from important and beloved Bible passages from 19 books of the Bible. The songs were creatively written and recorded to make Scripture memorization easy and fun.

Musical styles include folk, a cappella, jazz, blue grass, pop, gospel and family songs. Tunes are easy to learn, fun for kids and enjoyable to listen to on repeat.

The songs include passages from Romans 8 (Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?), Psalm 84 (A day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere), Numbers 23 (God is not man that he should lie), John 8 (If you abide in my word), and all of Psalm 34. Your children will memorize scripture without even trying-and so will you! Companion CDs for Sets 1, 3 and 4 are also available, as is the Extended Set 5 CD (the Sermon on the Mount).

The irresistible force

I could not have been more wrong when I mistakenly thought Nippon Manju was the peak of modern musical achievement. But I have to say that the combination of J-Pop with metal is the most musically interesting thing I’ve heard since the first time I heard techno. Throw in the Japanese knack for inimitable style and theatrics, and the total effect is amazing. I’m totally convinced that Babymetal is going to be one of the biggest bands in the world.

Now, some of you are aware that I studied in Japan, I used to speak it pretty well, and although I haven’t used it at all in 25 years, I can still understand a fair amount of it. So when I heard “Papa daisuki”, I thought, what the hell, why are they saying “I love you Daddy?”

So I listened a little closer, then burst out laughing before looking up the translated lyrics. Because in addition to the music being brilliant, the words are enough to give the feminists of the West a complete stroke. The grasseater males of Japan may be gaming themselves into nonexistence, but clearly not everyone in Japan has forgotten what is at the heart of female power.

And no one knows it better, or wields it more effectively, than a little girl with a loving father. Thus spake the man who doesn’t like cats and somehow ended up with three.

Tactic 1
I flatter more than usual.
I give Daddy a shoulder massage
I love you, Daddy.


Tactic 2
Thank you for your hard work. You are my god.
Of course my favorite type is….
 I love you, Daddy.


Let’s go! Let’s go!
The Great Beg-Daddy-for-it Strategy.
Make a cute pouty face and keep on begging.
The strongest! Ooh! The greatest!  Ooh!
Daddy’s going to fall for my angel’s smile.
Let’s go! Let’s go!
The Great Beg-Daddy-for-it Strategy.
I will get it in secret from Mom.
The strongest! Ooh! The greatest!  Ooh!
I beg. I beg.
The Great Beg-Daddy-for-it Strategy!


Because I am a girl
I love sparkling things.
I love cute things.
I love delicious things.

Anyhow, if you’re not convinced that they rock in a uniquely Japanese fashion, check out Megitsune. For some reason, only the Americans, the English, the Nordics, and occasionally the Germans have historically been able to do metal, but apparently the Japanese have figured it out since I was there in 1988. No doubt those who think metal is primarily about the trappings and the posturing will hate Babymetal, but those who like it for the music will appreciate the musicianship, the energy, and the spectacle, if nothing else.

Mailvox: The Singularity

One of the readers here, who also happens to have the good taste to be a John C. Wright fan, sends word of his band’s new EP, “The Singularity”. Good voice and some interesting guitar work.