by Mike Errico | Apr 2, 2015 | Stories, Teaching, Text Journalism
[With attention turning toward Joni’s health, so too has a media shorthand that seeks to encapsulate an artist who has spent her life defying easy classification. But to call her a “60s Folksinger” is to ignore almost everything she’s done. New piece on CUEPOINT.] “If one more major media outlet refers to Joni Mitchell as a “60s Folksinger,” I am seriously going to lose. It.” — Julian Fleisher, via Facebook It took a second for me to register what my Facebook/actual friend had noticed — news outlets using shorthand to encapsulate someone who spent a life defying exactly that. I’m going to suppose that, to some extent, it can’t be helped, that people just don’t have enough time to see more than the easiest talking point. They have careers, lives, and a newsfeed that scrolls endlessly in both directions. “‘60s folksinger” is good enough for enough people. It’s all that people who don’t really care have time to care about. And in an age where the “power” of the sharing economy lies with the consumer and not the artist, perhaps Joni should count herself lucky to be remembered even for that one sliver of her output. But man, I wouldn’t say that to her face. She has been cantankerous with her legacy, scrapping biopics that smell shallow or expedient, eschewing stars who can’t yet hold a candle to the role they’re being lined up to play. Maybe some people are surprised by that — surely she knows the money she’s leaving on the table, right? The sales bump, the retrospectives and accolades she could fill her closets with? Read “Joni Mitchell is Not a ’60s...
by Mike Errico | Apr 1, 2015 | Stories, Teaching, Text Journalism
With a head full of stones and a heart full of sand, I have returned from the Highland Park Record Club. The goal of this gathering was to establish that music and whisky are good friends, maybe even cousins: They both have dynamic personalities that unfold over time; they both are hard to do well; and both warrant repeat drink-listens. We were curated from the creative class and dispatched to a members-only basement where bookshelves swelled with thick hardcovers recounting retrospectives at the Whitney Museum. There were dark, overstuffed couches, and a gas fireplace with a thick glass pane in front of it that offered the dance of light with none of the extraneous by-product of actual fire. There were bowls of nuts with honey notes that whispered from the back of my palette, “How did you get invited here? You’re a fraud.” But I’m not a fraud, I whispered back to my nuts, within earshot of a vinyl technician who scratched garage rock into Plexiglas 45s on a vintage lathe. I am an aficionado, in that I have awakened next to empty bottles of Highland Park and hit play on recording equipment to hear a song that I couldn’t remember I even recorded. So. I’m a pro at this. It’s really something, to hear a song for the first time and know it’s you singing. It’s as close as I may get to inhabiting Keith Richard’s body. Scotch people, I report the following: Highland Park 12 remains a standard bearer, the one you’d hand the Olympic torch and let run down your gullet with trust, even pride; Highland...
by Mike Errico | Mar 18, 2015 | Lessons, Teaching, Text Journalism, The Solo Show
This is not about copyright infringement. It’s about how not to get effed by your own entertainment lawyer. I hope my artist friends will check it out, and I hope it helps. What the “Blurred Lines” Lawyer Taught All Artists For a minute, forget about the “Blurred Lines” verdict, the lyrics and whether or not you love Marvin Gaye. The New York Times just ran a profile on Richard S. Busch, the lawyer who won the $7.4 million case for the Gaye estate. In explaining how he did it, Busch says something I hope all artists caught: “By being on the outside,” he said, “everyone who hires me knows that they get 100 percent of my loyalty.” Why is that noteworthy? Because there’s an assumption that you can hire an entertainment attorney — that’s the guy on your side, remember — and not get 100 percent of his/her loyalty. It’s pretty hard to win a legal battle with a lawyer who might not be riding with you. You’d think loyalty was a given, but, as Busch casually explains it, that’s not the case. Read on at Cuepoint. What the “Blurred Lines” Lawyer Taught All...
by Mike Errico | Mar 12, 2015 | audio, Free, Podcast, Stories, Teaching
In the new Design Observer podcast, The Observatory, Jessica Helfand and Michael Beirut discuss highlights from the “What Design Sounds Like” symposium. My contribution was “Dancing About Architecture” – the interplay between sound, architecture, composition and meaning. I spoke and spun J.S.Bach, AC/DC and FKA Twigs. I think it made sense. Other stories include: • It’s Nice That’s Rob Alderson on TED and Design Indaba • Roy Choi • Sindiso Khumalo • Interactive videos by Yoni Bloch: Like a Rolling Stone; Pretend to Be Happy • The Christmas party scene from Kramer vs. Kramer • CBC on Spocking the Canadian $5 bill Bonus: Check out Lena Dunham’s concept for a graphic design web series featuring Jessica and...
by Mike Errico | Feb 20, 2015 | audio, Lessons, live shows, Stories, Teaching
I’ll be doing this on Saturday. Amazing lineup. I’m honored to have been included. My contribution is “Dancing About Architecture” – the interplay between sound, architecture, composition and meaning. I’ll be talking, playing, and spinning J.S. Bach, AC/DC and FKA Twigs. Despite that, I’m fairly sure it will make sense. The SVA Theatre is located at 333 W. 23rd street, between 8th and 9th avenues. Directions can be found at svatheatre.com tix: http://www.eventbrite.com/e/what-design-sounds-like-tickets… Tweets at #WDSL For more about Design Observer:...
by Mike Errico | Jan 29, 2015 | audio, Teaching, Text Journalism, The Solo Show
Plus: A 59-song playlist of happy(-ish) endings. [This is an excerpt from “Hi. I’m Your Songwriting Professor,” from the ongoing story series “The Solo Show,” by Mike Errico, on Cuepoint.] “…I love the last songs on albums, the ones where the agendas and obligations lift like the dampers of the piano, allowing all creative strings to vibrate at once. This is when the artists reveal themselves, tell their inside jokes, and foreshadow their ambitions. I know that the whole idea of an “album” always was a construct — once upon a time, album length was determined by the amount of music a graphite disc could hold — and if that construct disappears completely, no one will even know what I’m talking about. There won’t be “last songs,” there will only be “unpopular” ones. UnPop music. Maybe that’s what I like.” Check out the rest of the article here: The dying art of the last song on the also-dying art of the “album.” And see what I’m talking about with this playlist of last songs from “albums”...
