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Funding Our New Album — An Awesome Kickstart!

We’re funding our new album with help from fans, friends and this amazing website called Kickstarter, which allows people to donate to the project.

With the record industry being what it is, this is a super exciting new way to try to fund an album.  We only get the money if we meet our fundraising goal of $12,500 within two months — if we fall short, everyone gets their money back and we get squat — so the stakes are high, but I’m hoping it’ll give the people who enjoy our music a deeper sense of ownership over the project.  Speaking of which, everyone who donates gets a CD and a credit as a Micro Producer, and if you donate significantly, you get a lot more than that.

And oh, we are off to an awesome start.  After a day and a half, we are over %10 of the way to our goal. Thanks to the 24 backers who’ve donated so generously already!

Read more about the project, and how you can help, here.

A podcast interview with Kadmus Arts about writing plays and songs.

Nathan Lipton 1911-2009

My Grandpa Nathan passed away on Saturday.  He was 97 years old.  I’m sorry that he had to go but I’m relieved for him — 97 years is a long time and he was pooped. He had been ready to move on for the past few years at least.  

I couldn’t be at the funeral, which was today in Los Angeles, but I’m thinking about him.  Here are some things I will always remember about my Grandpa Nathan:

His devotion to his wife.  In the years that I knew them, nothing mattered more to Nathan than Irene and her well-being.  Their love was deep, lasting and romantic, and I don’t say that just because I once walked in on them sleeping naked in Palm Springs.  Whether buying her jewelry or taking her to the doctor, Nathan was always there for Irene.   They were the ultimate team.  And for two who people who could really appreciate a well-phrased complaint, I never heard either one of them complain about the other.

My grandpa Nathan made the best matzo brie and the best potato pancakes.  Simply the best.

My Grandpa Nathan fixed things well enough so that you could keep using them.  Sometimes more than once.

On most occasions, Nathan Lipton let other people do the talking.  On Passover, he made up for it.  With joy in his heart.

My grandpa Nathan could lighten the mood.  He could drive 12 hours without stopping.  When he spoke, he sounded like Chicago, Lithuania and the desert all rolled into one.  When he said something heartfelt, he might squint or throw his hands in the air, and you got the sense that it hurt him a little to say it.

My grandpa loved Judaism.  It gave him something to do, a way to see the world, and a way to grow. His study of Judaism later in life became Nathan’s college.  It allowed him to become an educated man years after the opportunity to do so had seemingly passed him by.

My grandpa didn’t drink.  He didn’t lie.  He didn’t steal anything more than a packet of Sambo’s jelly, and that was probably for Irene.  He was as moral a person as I’ve ever known, and his morality came not from God or family, but from somewhere within.

My grandpa raised two wonderful sons who dutifully and lovingly spent years of their lives trying to do for him what he had done for them and Irene.  There is no greater tribute to his decency than that.

As much as anything, what I will remember about my Grandpa Nathan is that he liked to start at end of the story and work his way back.  To him, context was everything.  The climax was only a way to frame the story.  What really excited him was the little details, the surprising turns, the minor victories that one experienced along the way. 

We all talk like that too, Grandpa.  And we can’t help it either. 

We love you, and we will miss you. Thank you for the latkes and for the sincerity of your example.

 

 

NY Magazine Best of Issue

Sweet!  

Dryden High

i can’t say that i had many fantasies about our band playing a high school in upstate new york, but man, this was one of the best music experiences i’ve ever had. a great teacher at Dryden High named Bob McMahon had seen us play Celebrate Brooklyn, and through sheer hustle and will, got grant money to bring us up to his junior high/high school to lead a workshop for the kids and play a show for the community.

heather drove up with us and took some great pics of the workshop. since i don’t know much about music that i can explain, i decided that we as a band would try to “put together” a new song in front of the kids, and hopefully involve them. by “put together” i mean, well, to assemble a song in the fashion that we usually do, which is this: i get a lyric and melody in my head, work on it until it feels like a song, then i bring it into rehearsal, sing it for eb, v & i, and they try to figure out what the heck i’m singing, and then figure out how to play it. i’m very little help in this process: all i can do is sing the tune over and over, and tell them when i know it’s right. once we have a basic shape of the tune, then we all decide on the vibe, tempo, etc., together.

so i brought up a new song called SKYROCKETED that the guys hadn’t heard before. and after a 4-hour drive and some sandwiches at a suspicious-yet-delicious roadside diner, we went into this big school auditorium, where a whole cadre of young, eager students armed with trombones, trumpets, guitars, you name it, actually bought into what we were doing. at first, the kids just listened, somewhat bemused, as i do what i always do: sing the tune over and over while the band goes trial-and-erroring with their instruments. but as the song began to take shape–there were few lonnnnnng moments when i wasn’t sure that it would–students began to step up to the stage to play with us. first it was three horn players, then more, then all of a sudden this drummer had set up his kit, and then we had a second standup bass, and on and on. some of the kids started putting together little mini arrangements of the sections they were doing, and eventually, we ended up with an awesome trainwreck of a first draft of a song. tremendous!

then their folks and other community members filed into the auditorium and we gave them a show. i managed to keep most of the cussing and darkly ironic songs out of the set, but i did err in thinking HIT IT might be appropriate. HIT IT was not appropriate. alas. we all survived.

a very shared experience, and an awesome time. did i mention the lasagna that one of the kids’ prents made for us? also awesome. ian hate half of it.

thanks for bringing us up, Bob, and to the kids of Dryden, you rock!

Self-Couscous

why blog? i don’t know, exactly. maybe this is a place where i can talk about things in a more expansive way. do i have things to expand upon?

maybe this will be a place for pictures and other media, and very few words. that would be some kind of accomplishment, to communicate without all the yapping.

i should definitely post some music. sometimes we record our live shows, just for the band, but i see no reason why we couldn’t post a few of those here. and a cappella versions of new songs, like i used to do for friends in cars. or maybe not; i’ll have to think about that. but no rehearsals, that’s for sure. some things are still sacred. unless someone makes a funny joke during rehearsal, and we get a recording of it, then I could post that. oh, great. now no one’s going to say anything funny in rehearsal ever again because we’ll all be self-conscious. (i just re-read that last word and it looked to me like “self-couscous.”)

perhaps I’ll resurrect the Helpful Suggestions that appeared on my first website.

i want to talk more about playwriting. i don’t know in what respect yet, maybe just to let people know when I have readings or productions, or to talk about plays i’ve enjoyed. or maybe i’ll get inspired to go into process. everyone loves process. the highs and lows, the schemes. the patience and failure. what if i discover something great about the form? I should share that. then again, i could keep that valuable information to myself, and instead offer something more mysterious, like a daily word count. yeah, a total of all the words i’ve written in a play on a given day. that’s not as generous as sharing my playwriting secrets, but it’s still sharing. every little bit counts.

i’m hoping the band will post gig information and other musings about their lives here. i can’t make them do that, of course. i already make them do a lot of things.

i want to be fluid with time. i want to go back as often as i go forward.

my family and pets, the food i eat, things i’m listening to, things i hear other people talking about, what i’m reading (slowly). that’s all in-bounds.

hello.

Hit It!

See the video for our song Hit It, directed by Ishai Setton, with choreography by Gabriella Barnstone. The Boston Globe’s Brainiac called it the best video of 2007.


team building


Originally uploaded by mr.softy

the band plays golf the morning before a long day of shooting for the movie. here eben and i are discussing some chord changes.