THE TRIFECTIC ESSAYS (PART 3): Acknowledgments

***Due to the non-fictional nature of the subject matter for "Acknowledgments", you might think "Is Peter talking about me?" if you were somehow involved with Patch in the past. Rest assured it is about people I no longer associate with. If you are reading this, it is not about you.***

There is nothing I fear more than knowing all of my efforts and self-sacrifices made for an endeavor were all for naught. Time and time again, as I said in "Preclusion" (the last essay), Patch had been in a constant trial and error, try, try again anomaly. I've come to the realization that most bands go through experiences like this. Having people come and go, losing people to intoxication and addiction, failure, short sightedness, laziness, the want of instant gratification, etc. Basically, children.

"Preclusion" is part 1 to a two part meta-story about my frustrations with trying to become a live band. The second part, "Acknowledgments", is the angriest, most visceral and non-fictitious song I've written to date. It takes direct quotes and points fingers at real people.

Now, this might not be a polite thing to do. Embarking on meta-songwriting (I always think of that song by Carly Simon sung about Warren Beaty "You're So Vain") is a tricky business. But I think that there should be a happy medium.

Just as there is a countless amount of broken hearted sad bastard music out there based off of real relationship woes turned into semi-fiction, it should only be allowed that there be songs about band woes.

I basically think that if people have the gall to quit or wrong me after we've agreed to embark on a shared experience where I trust in their ability to show up on time, learn material, it's only fair that I can write a little song about my anger at being fucked over time and time again without naming names. One wrong by one person? Eh, not appropriate. Two wrongs by two people? Still not appropriate. How's about fifteen plus people? The anger was immense, and I felt I deserved a little public ventilation.

And if you call me out on that, fuck you, to put it bluntly. You gave an agreement, you gave me your word. And you failed. To say I can't vent about it makes your abuse of your word ever more pathetic. So take your leave of absence like a man (or a woman, in one case). It's the only time I'll do it, I promise.

Just to thank all of the people who got us to where we set out to be.

The real honest-to-goodness people to thank would be Schuyler Tsuda, who mixed and mastered our first EP, "Schematics", and curated our debut and CD release shows. Greg Strom, who stuck with the band since the very beginning. Paul St. Turner, who also stuck it out in the end. Carl Nyflot for his photography. Taylor Park for his art inspiration and the first Patch logo. These are the people who helped get us to the beginning of Era 1.

But the tongue-in-cheek Acknowledgments go to not all the fifteen of the come-and-go's, but a select few. Some people legitimately could not play in Patch due to busy lives and we mutually agreed that they should or could leave Patch. Some, however, just left unannounced. Disappeared. Some bridges were burnt. And I became so fed up.

This goes to those who went AWOL.

"Thanks, and fuck you, too."

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A. TRI
2. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Looking at the stars, looking at the czars
I can make it, I can make it if I only hold on
You taught me how to sing, how to act, how to dance
How to fuck, fuck, fuck and drink my head away
"Tonight, tonight
Is the beginning of the rest of your life!
So grab the bull by the horns and get
Made, Paid, Laid
And by the way
We believe in you, we believe in you, we believe in you, we believe in you."

So they buy up a piece of un-Real Estate
In a sector called "Hope" through a conjugate
We join hands and we smile and we celebrate
I can't shake off the feeling that they'll desecrate
Commit robbery in the worst degree
Friends turn into enemies
And thrown out down the drain
An abortion of another dream

I know what you'd like
To smoke, drink, fuck every night
The small print of the deal
Says "Devotion isn't real".

So take the money and run

Fueled by mistakes and the sight of Cloud 9
I brought them in, one by one, with a promise divine
Of Art, of Truth, the components that are missing
In this fickle falling world where only power chords shine
Well, one left for money
And one in shame
And countless others who held fast to the Simplicity Game
YOU: I did nothing but help you out
YOU: You gave me nothing but a seed to sprout--
--the Curse of Altruism helps nobody in the end
Except the ones with no remorse to take advantage of a friend
But they believe in me, they believe in me . . .

Well, belief doesn't play a guitar for me
Nor does it hit skins or tickle ivory
You fell between the cracks built with the void of all you lack
And thrown out down the drain
An abortion of another dream

I know what you'd like
To smoke, drink, fuck every night
The small print of the deal
Says "Devotion isn't real".

So take the money and run

I hope you're fairing well on the other side

And will you step up to me?
And will you step up to me?
And will you step up to me?
I know you won't

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This song was written on a Saturday night, two nights after Trifectic was conceived. It was based off of my want for raw, emotional simplicity. Something Greg could play on the drums (he had never played drums before) while I sang upfront. Paul would supply the guitars, with Greg switching over to bass on the more poignant musical parts. Same with me on the drums. It was inspired by a song from Liars called "Plaster Casts of Everything" and Nirvana's "Breed".

I had written a musical outline immediately after "Preclusion" to see how the journey between the two songs would pan out. I wanted "Acknowledgments" to be the high point of the first third of the Trifectic set.


A storm was raging outside. Perhaps the most violent storm of 2010. As I was about to start on the lyrics and riff writing on Word, I got a call from my roommate who said "Are the tornado sirens going off at the house?"

I said "Tornado?!" Immediately after I said this, sure enough, the tornado sirens started blaring. I checked the weather and apparently a funnel cloud was headed directly toward the house. Yet, a minute later, the sirens turned off. Reports were on and off about the funnel cloud, so I thought "Whatever" and continued writing.

Writing with a raging storm outside of your window, thunder blasting from the heavens, tornado sirens off in the distance, is extremely conducive to writing angry, bitter lyrics. The crux of this song was written in the space of one hour with the storm, only paused by the arrival of my girlfriend, Kristy, who had been driving through the storm from Wisconsin to stay the night, meaning that any efforts to keep writing the song would have been the rudest thing to do in light of her harsh travels. The song was finished the following Sunday afternoon.

The lyrics are both direct quotes from the aforementioned fifteen and direct references to how some of them left. The notion of "Smoke, Drink, Fuck" was a quote from a close friend (one of the people who actually helped legitimately in getting Patch off the ground, so this song isn't directed toward him) about the nature of what we've heard local budding rockers say is the ultimate goal. To be at a level where the goal is to play your music as a means to get to the rest of your life where all you'll do is smoke cigarettes (or whatever), drink the night away, and fuck a new girl of your choosing. Some of our contacts in the local scene wanted to do just these things. It's not about the art. It's about getting Made, Paid, and Laid.

In all of my experience as a local musician, the only time where getting laid was ever in the cards was once while playing a private show at my house with my old band, Citizens Banned. I didn't see it coming. A couple of girls whom we didn't know showed up in our rehearsal space. After the show, they sought me out and found me in my room. One voluptuously said, "Hey." I got up from my chair and went to the door, thinking they knew someone at the party and were going to introduce themselves. It became clear to them however, that I was not all I was cracked up to be offstage.

"Oh, you looked taller during the show." And they left the party immediately.

I frowned. "What?" It hit me. "Ohhhhhhhh . . ."

Musically, "Acknowledgments" is not as musically storytelling as "Preclusion", where buildups and premature endings symbolize the try, try again nature of Patch live. This time around, the driving beat is just angry. I spout a spoken word rant on a soap box up front. The guitars are dissonant and ripe with bitter rage.

The main idea I had coming into the song was the nature of dual drums. I wanted Greg and I to play together during the solo with Paul providing dissonant noise on the guitar. Symbolically, this is supposed to address the fact that the Acknowledged not only affected me and all of my dreams, but the time and effort by Greg and Paul as well. They took time out of their busy lives and certain people made all of that null and void when they figured "Whelp, I don't think I'll show up anymore."

I believe in getting Made and Paid for the effort and time. This is the ultimate goal. I'd like to make a living off of my art. Yet I make art not for the purpose to get paid, if you can understand. If money comes my way due to my art, amazing! I make the art for the sole purpose of making art. I'd like to have a fanbase of people that demand my art so that my job can be solely making art.

And yet it seems that this mentality is not what is held by most in the locally famous scene. It's a world of sharks. Poor art is rewarded because of its accessibility, and its wide draw. Poor artists get rewarded for poor art. They are not artists. They are models wearing clothes and playing riffs that have no new ideas. There is no statement except to get a big house, plenty of women, yaddah yaddah yaddah. These are not new sentiments.

Only in the aspect that these people infiltrated my band, tainting its honest message, is it new. Because I experienced it time and time again on a personal level.

There is a difference between a Poor Artist and a Starving Artist. And the Poor's are taking the sustenance that the Starving need and laughing all the way to the bank.

VIDEO:
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS @ 1419 -- December 17, 2010

THE TRIFECTIC ESSAYS (PART 2): Preclusion

The door slammed shut.

"Hello?!" a voice called from upstairs. "Peter?! What are you doing tonight?"

From inside my room, a small alcove within a small house shared by two others at the time (and at one point, seven), a place smack dab in the middle of where the most activity occurred, hardly any help to keep the constant flux of creativity I wanted to pour out into the world going, I remained silent. I threw off all of my belongings, cleared a space on my desk for my notebook, looked at the one line:

"All these lines mocking the marks of my life . . ."

"What's next? What's next?" I thought. "What do I want the song to do . . . a revolving DIY machine between three people . . . an intro to our new show . . . we could just do chants . . . nah, at least four chants of this first line then an instrumental build . . ."

Knock, knock. "Peter, what are you up to?"

Irritation, despite my thankfulness that people still took the care to ask me to have a social life with them, must have stained my face and eyes. I remember distinctly looking up and saying "Writing. I have to." And looking back down.

"Oh. Well, we might go out tonight," my roommate said, despite my accidental staredown.

"Mmm-hmm . . . probably not tonight," I said, not looking up from my notebook.

A couple of minutes later, by the grace of God, the house was empty. This never happened. At least, not when I wanted to be creative. To write. To record. It was always empty when I wanted to be social, when I figured the work could wait. Nothing ever seemed to line up correctly.

But this one time, it did.

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Coffee downed, shirt off from the heat, basking in gym shorts, acoustic guitar laying on my lap, sore fingertips from playing said guitar all night long, tiny tape recorder full of notes, recorded files on the computer for finished ideas, I heard the door open, the roommates were home again. Yet irritation didn't flood my mood this time around. Gratefulness came instead. "Break. Take a minute, Pete," I told myself.

I looked at my notes. One song written. Six others brainstormed. A name for the era: Trifectic. It had only been a couple of hours, and yet I had done the most work I had ever done in one day, let alone one sitting.

I made a couple more notes for the finished guitar riff ideas before calling it a night.


I walked into the kitchen to throw away my coffee cup. Still in writing mode, I remarked to my roommate, "It's a time of Preclusion. Again and again and again."

"What?" she said.

"I lost another drummer."

"What?"

"Preclusion. Everything ends before it's supposed to have begun."

"What are you talking about?"

I stopped. I looked at her with a smile. "You'll see?"

She stood there as I went back to my room, no doubt giving me a dubious look that said "You should have come out tonight, you're losing it".

I looked at my notes again. I listened to my riffs.

"Yeah, we're going to be okay," I thought.

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A. TRI
1. PRECLUSION

All these lines mocking the marks of my life . . .

I tried to lay down the words but they've kept it all in . . .

I take one step forward and two steps back . . .

I finally made a mark to mock all those lines.

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When I have a creative flow, most of the time I take the easiest ideas and complicate the living crap out of them. In this case, it was a rising chant. A man, hunched over his drum set, having just said goodbye to the 7th or 8th or whatever drummer that he had hoped to be the one that held the dream together. A chant to get him through the pain that lies within the fine print of art.

A rising chant.

But throw in an instrumental build, then a changeover from drums to mic, no guitar, have another build with different sections in it, changeover again, do another build slightly similar to the first one, but with new sections, and then elongate the big section with a weird roll riff and a coda of slides, one more roll thing and then the main ending of noise and resolute finality. He made a song . . . he finally did it. And if he played that live at his first show, he'd smile to the crowd in a happy proclamation of "FUCK YOU, KARMA!!!"

An easy enough structure in three parts, the song is supposed to introduce the changing wheel of Trifectic. Peter would come up, beaten and weary, and chant four times about the failure of his band thus far. The other players then try to prove him wrong, as one by one they join in on a build as Peter plays the drums out of necessity. "No one else is going to play this damn thing, I guess I'll have to do it," is the feel. At the end of the build, the music swells to a choreographed loud point, everyone doing the same riff together. Finally, something's working! But it ends abruptly. Another Preclusion.

Then the wheel moves, allowing Peter to go up front, be where he's wanted to be all along, and try again. He repeats the lines "All these lines . . ." two more times, and stops, realizing that something is happening. He chants new lines: "I tried to lay down the words but they've kept it all in." The emotion grows higher and higher, a new drummer laying the foundation with a bass acting as the only stringed instrument, yet filling the space with distortion. The chant turns into sounds of repeated cries of sadness/anger, ending again to hint at another chance lost . . . another Preclusion . . .

Peter sings "I take one step forward and two steps back" while actually stepping back to the drumset, resolute that it will never work. The wheel rotates again. He starts a drum riff, Greg and Paul follow suit, never dropping a beat, a last build that seems the most choreographed. A band that will stick together. By the end of the third build, the sounds persist, feedback and a steady bassline continuing, as Peter realizes that it finally happened. "I finally made a mark to mock all these lines." Pointing a middle finger at the heavens, he finishes the song with a proper countoff ending. Finally, a conclusion.

Yet, the sound persists, as the meta-protagonist is about to address the group of individuals that have sparked the constant preclusions. As with any finished product, Acknowledgments are expected. And it's proper to give credit where credit is due . . .

VIDEO:
PRECLUSION @ 1419 -- December 17, 2010

THE TRIFECTIC ESSAYS (PART 1): A DIY Revolving Music Machine

Try, try again.

How many times, though? July 2010, I was up to 15 on the count for members quitting/leaving the band. We were two weeks away from our live debut. The latest hopeful drummer had just walked out the door on my request. Despite the fact that we had ended things on somewhat mutual, friendly terms, I felt downright hopeless. However, I had had creative surges bursting through my brain as of late. New written material was on the horizon.

The dream to be a four-piece or five-piece was going to be put on hold. I loved the remaining three guys. I thought we made a great team. I thought we could make something with just the three of us and still make the end result as big and as raucous as possible.

Wrought from the emotion of the neverending cycle of band members, I placed a notebook on my snare drum, sitting on the throne of my kit, looking heavy and burdened. Looking at all the empty lines of my notebook page. Starting over. How many times have these lines promised a result, only to fall short before a result could be given? How many times have we prepared a show, only to never actually get on a stage? The marks I put down in lyrics keep getting mocked by new empty lines sparked by another failure.

“All these lines mocking the marks of my life.”

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That night, after rushing home, not announcing my presence to anyone in the household, closing and locking the door to my room, I put all of my ideas down on paper.

I wrote and recorded scats to seven different songs. Six made up on the spot, one that had been floating around for the past two years (Whisper a Scream). The initial ideas of all the songs were put down that first night. "Preclusion" had a written outline as well.

I had a three-piece band. But I wanted to sound and do things that a four or five piece could do. Plus, I didn't want to give up the frontman role. I wanted to be up at a microphone as much as possible.

The songs that were written all had stage directions before there was any written music. For instance "FIRST SONG: 1. Start up front, sing. 2. Go back to drums, have instrumental build. 3. Come back to front, Paul on drums. Build. 4. Back to another instrumental build on drums."

From this point, the songs were written one by one in succession. From "Preclusion" to "The Private Collective", so that a flow could stay intact throughout the journey of the show.

In the end, the structure looked like this:

A. TRI
1. Preclusion
2. Acknowledgments

B. FEC
3. Whisper a Scream
4. Silent Cache
5. An Act of 3

C. TIC
6. Here Again
7. The Private Collective

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In terms of the subtle stage design and feel of the show, I was relying heavily on all of the instances from the past five years where I pined to be onstage, mainly while watching friends perform or watching that fated "jealous" band where you think they suck yet they've sold out the bar and you're thinking "Holy shit, they'd LOVE my stuff!!!" The lights, the changing of instruments, were all supposed to hint at a variety/burlesque show. This came out of all the experiences of going to my friends' burlesque outings, supporting them, but secretly stewing inside, "Patch would be great here. Hell, I'd just have a drum and a voice up there, just get me onstage!"

From these tumultuous support dipped in jealousy outings, ideas sprang to life. "Whisper a Scream", a simple drum and voice work song, came about because I could perform it easily with either one or five people. "Here Again", a crooning ballad, was a nod to all of the burlesque singers I wanted to replace onstage. "Silent Cache" had the feel of an old time prohibition dive bar burlesque show.

The main unorthodox practice for the show was the sideways drumset. I wanted to interact with the audience, face them while I sang, show them Paul or Greg when they played. I didn't want anyone to be hidden behind instruments. No barriers. It also gave easy access to the change-up between the main setup and our drum line songs.

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With these ideas, all brought into existence one night while in a fit of creativity and rage, I called Greg and Paul. "The project's changed, we're doing something called 'Trifectic'." Both were pretty accepting of the change from another, more prog-ish outing we were working on called "On Veins and Nothing" (now put on the shelf for a future endeavor). I said, "We'll start practices in a week."

We were still on course to perform at a scheduled live debut at Room Zero, a practice space in Northeast Minneapolis. Moving the date back two weeks, I set about making a schedule where we would learn seven new songs that weren't even written yet to be performed in less than a month's time.

And thus began one of the most nerve wracking prep periods for any Patch project, one that made us seriously close to the brink of losing our minds and our friendships . . .

Chapter 1 . . .

CD RELEASE SHOW SET (12/17/10) @ 1419:

1. Preclusion
2. Acknowledgments
3. L.C.D.
4. Whisper a Scream
5. Silent Cache
6. An Act of 3
7. Here Again
8. The Private Collective

I've done it.

I've reached every goal I've had at the beginning of the year.

1. Make PATCH go live
2. Finish and release Schematics

Just two, but they were huge undertakings.

December 17th, the two culminated in an event that harbored promise and reward. The reward mainly being relief. Promise in terms of "Well, I think this whole Patch thing might take off. People seem to like it."

It sparked the end of Trifectic preparation (we've learned everything I had written for the initial three piece line up back in July and August). And we played a track from Schematics, something I didn't really intend to do initially with the three piece lineup. Schematics is its own entity, a glimpse into future projects. L.C.D. is actually a song from an album I've written called Karmath. The rest of the songs are from three other projects I hope to complete: Sound. Of. Static., I Source, and Hue.

Playing the show, I felt where the energy was high and where attention spans waned with the audience. At this point, I'd like to keep energy high throughout a show. The next step is to take the three piece lineup and give it one more round of songs, an entirely new set from what we've been playing thus far. It will be fun to mix and match Trifectic with the next project, too.

The next project's storyline will deal with the concept of three again. It will focus on the notion of polygamy and lovers trying to come to terms with "others" in their relationship. It's a commentary on modern sexuality, suppressed sexual inhibitions within animals, and a way for me to deal with some of my anxiety when it comes to my love life. There's a 90's indie feel for one song, plus the storyline will incorporate electronics. The first time we'll be doing so in the live setup.

We'll also expand on the drum line alongside the new storyline. I'd like to have a show where we're able to use our bodies to express the songs. Being stuck behind a plethora of instruments in Trifectic, I feel somewhat suppressed in expression onstage. The drum line is about instrument performance, the other material will be about intense body expression. I want to have a realm where one style of performance can really shine and have the option to have the other style shine in another setting. This will also create more variety in our shows, something I've always wanted in PATCH. If we have four shows booked in a two week span, each show will be different, thus providing people the opportunity to keep coming back for more and not seeing the same show they saw two nights prior.

After these two projects (Drum Line Expansion and New Set), it'll be time to bring in the four piece version of PATCH with "On Veins and Nothing" and "Omiss" and "Karmath". The next recording is up in the air . . . I'm not sure what I want to do in that department quite yet. Perhaps the new set will shed some light on that matter.

Closing the Year

After 2010 ends, I'm kind of stumped as to the next direction that we'll be taking in PATCH. Meaning I've got a lot of ideas (too many) but I haven't nailed one down for our undertaking in January.

What we've done so far is Trifectic. Approximately 55 minutes' worth of material. Seven songs:

1. Preclusion
2. Acknowledgments
3. Whisper a Scream
4. Silent Cache
5. An Act of 3
6. Here Again
7. The Private Collective

All of the material is based off of the hardship of realizing one's dream, and the people and situations that try to strip you of your goals. Preclusion and Acknowledgments have felt the most respectable to me. Whisper, Silent, Act of 3 have felt a little "put on". I love those songs, but they're very theatrical, using a form of music that's mainly for show and not the most personal. They're also telling about another character, not me. I'm not alluding to the fact that we're going to discard anything. I just know what my heart's pining for: more personal, PATCH-y sort of music, rather than just straight up blues and drum lines.

That being said, the next step in Trifectic will be a story relating to my current love life. On Veins and Nothing is a reflection on that aspect of my life, but I'd like to delve into a short story first before we get into that grand era. I've got intense ideas for intense music. I want to continue the angry energy we create with Preclusion and Acknowledgements and let it ride throughout the entire show. Louder, more in your face. More sexual. More uncomfortable for an audience.

December 1st will be the first time we'll be playing the original Trifectic set in its entirety to a live audience. December 17th, our Schematics CD release show, we will play a track from Schematics and Karmath: LCD. After that, expect both the personal songs to be fleshed out, and an expansion on the Whisper, Silent, Act of 3 storyline and performance.

Show 3

Fine Line Music Cafe, Minneapolis, MN
10/26/10

1. Preclusion
2. Acknowledgments
3. Whisper a Scream
4. An Act of 3
5. Here Again
6. The Private Collective

Whisper a Scream and Private Collective were the strong ones here. Here Again was completely botched, however. Greg's bass was out of tune on one string, and I realized this as the song progressed. I started fearing "Shit, my own guitar's going to be completely whacked due to the bass!" Sure enough, it sounded like complete ass when I went to my first solo. I basically took the guitar off for the big solo, stopped the song, told everyone to point a middle finger at the guitar, kicked some pots/pans around, half-finished the song. We ended strong with Private Collective. People forgot all about the awkwardness just before (I even heard someone say on our video of the show "Well, THAT was awkward" after we stopped Here Again). Paul was nuts, jumping, swinging his guitar around, screaming and headbanging. I hope he continues to stay at that magnitude from now on. Greg was more calm. We'll just forget about the Here Again incident and tune before we go into it in the future. They can't all be zingers . . .

Show 2

Show 2: Big V's Saloon, St. Paul
10/16/10

1. Preclusion
2. Acknowledgments
3. Here Again
4. The Private Collective

Another exhausting set. However, the audience hasn't been privy to that. They've said the shows have been uber intense and energetic throughout. Greg was on fire, moving around, head banging. Paul was a little more calm. Thank god for the adapter and daisy chain I purchased this past week, because now all our pedals are in working order!

I was worried about Here Again. It's really easy to screw up that song, since it's actually melodic and relies on written tabs, rather than things we threw together off of melodies I sang to Paul and Greg to figure out on their own. It turned out great. Best song of the night, actually, for me at least.

PATCH: Show 1

8/13/10 at Room Zero
Era: Trifectic
Opening band: Shield Your Eyes

1. Preclusion
2. Acknowledgments
3. Whisper a Scream
4. An Act of Three
5. The Private Collective

A good turnout for the debut. For some reason, I was completely exhausted. It saw it in the video we captured of the set. The music was still intense, but I need more to come out of the show. Especially from me. Paul went bonkers in The Private Collective, I loved it. His delay pedal ran out of battery, so he opted to get weird sounds through using Schuyler's cello bow on his guitar. Greg was solid, serious, tough as hell. He knew what he was doing.

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It's happened again.

We're back to a three-piece again. But we're keeping the show. I will MAKE this happen. It will have a very current feel, as in dealing with almost a metafictional storyline of the hardships with Patch Live. So far it's all I can think about. But I've already come up with two songs, stuff I'm pretty confident in. Who knows what a shut-in weekend will bring about?

Two Months . . .

Some new developments since last we wrote:

The "On Veins" material is coming along in a way I wasn't anticipating. I've recently felt that Patch needed to add another guitar to the mix. Plus, Dave had to cancel out due to the band conflicting with his family life. So, we've got Greg and Paul at a farther point (currently working on our fifth song out of eight), Eric (he's back, drumming for Patch in exchange for my own drumming services in his band, HighTV) just started one-on-ones with me last week (currently have almost two songs down), and a rhythm guitarist hopeful is coming in this weekend to test out the waters . . .

June is a month of one-on-ones, three different facets of learning the "On Veins" material. July we will coalesce as one entity, playing together, sprucing up the details and nitty gritties.

There is a date set. An actual, tangible date, but I don't want to announce it just yet in case of another setback. When it seems that all is well, that date will be known . . .

After a few more weeks of writing the final three songs for this first presentation, I will finish up the Schematics artwork and embark on the free sampler I have planned, titled Schematosis. I anticipate Patch Live debuting slightly before Schematics/Schematosis is released.

There is an end in sight.

Snowballs and Momentum

Before I finish prepping for my music class, I figured I'd let the coffee sift into my bowels as I checked in on the blog, sent it off to Facebook, etc.

The acquisition of the new band members, Dave and Paul, has led to the greatest setup for the live band. Having had a few full practices now, I can't imagine a different setup. It's perfect. We all come from the same school of thought when it comes to music and art . . . primarily performance, which is the key element.

Throwing strange time signatures, strange dissonant notes, found instruments, the whole gamut at Greg, Paul, and Dave . . . they put up with a lot of challenges.

Currently, we've got about 11 minutes of material nailed down tight. Pretty soon I'll be showing some glimpses into the current project ("On Veins and Nothing"), but with style. I want to play it classy with the presentation of all this. Jumping the gun with photos and videos of the other players in the winter who have since left the band left me with a buffoon's grin on my face.

Slowly but surely, folks . . . I think we've got this, now . . .

Take 2

Will this finally pan out? Will this be the lineup? Will this be the final "first" direction we take?

I don't want to jinx anything anymore. I'll shut up until dates are announced.

Transplant

When you've hit the bottom, you become numb to everything that comes your way, good or bad. I could have been stricken with cancer last week and I probably would have just said, with glazed eyes, "Okay."

Things have played themselves out. I wouldn't say "worked" themselves out, per se. I'm contemplating still.

Schematics is done in the audio department. It sounds amazing! I picked up the finished copy at the opening for Room Zero, Schuyler's new performance/creation space in Northeast, right down the street from Karmath Studio, actually. At the opening, four bands, including Schuyler's own, played live noise sets. The gears started turning in my own head.

Schuyler had asked me a couple of months ago to play at Room Zero at one of the monthly gigs that he's planning on having each month from here on out. The space is perfect. It will hold the right amount of people, it will generate the right kind of feeling that I would want Patch to generate in people's heads. The whole night I came up with new ideas for the first live representation of Patch. The initial idea has been stripped away from me time and time again. It will be void of Schematics, it will be all "Veins".

May . . .

The Patch Live/Sisyphus Analogy

OCTOBER 2009: Mixing is nearing completion on Patch 1: Schematics. During one of the mixing sessions with Schuyler, my co-producer, Schuyler's friend Scotty comes in to say hi. He mentions that he is a freelance drummer, currently rehearsing for an audition for a band looking for a stand-in if the regular drummer is unavailable. He gives me his card, it's best to get as many people as possible for auditions for Patch Live, which would be coming up soon.

I'm also in talks with good friends (Dustin, Adri, Greg) to possibly be in the band. I have a space in the back of my house that I've been using for live music two years and counting. Things are looking up. I have everything I could want. My birthday occurred, I realized all of the friends I had, now it's time to step forward into the ether. Halloween is the last good day of the year . . .

NOVEMBER 2009: I have a professional meeting with Scotty. We discuss the fact that he's a paid musician, he isn't tied to a band at all, he's a freelancer. Being a stickler for people who commit to projects, and seeing as though I'm not really paying rent on top of the house for the practice space, I figure "Why not? It's only a little bit of money."

I try out another drummer. I opt for Scotty, thinking that the money would make him commit to the material needed to be learned. I get the band together twice to mix together, see how people rehearse on their own. We have good rehearsals, progress is made.

While on a trip to the West Coast, the current guitarist, Dustin, opts out because of beliefs against paying one person and nobody else. I draw up a manifesto while on a much needed vacation to persuade him to stay, where I basically cancel outings with my family to come up with a solution. Alas, he doesn't bite. The rest of the band finds this as a valid belief system, I seek another guitarist.

DECEMBER 2009: I come up with another guitarist to complete the five piece dream. He is Matt Anderson, of The Engagement fame. We have one rehearsal with him. Progress hasn't been made since the last rehearsal. Matt's a great guitar player, however, and I attempt to reign him in some more. He cancels out on each rehearsal thereafter, finally telling me that he can't commit to his job and two bands at the same time. I understand.

As Scotty practices in the back room one night, I get a knock on the front door. It's my neighbor, complaining about the noise. Back in November, I ventured over to tell her that I would be starting up another band in the back. As I did this, her dog escaped from her clutches and bit me on the ass, tearing my pants to shreds. We had come to an agreement to stop noise at 9:00pm. It is 8:00pm on this new visit. She threatens to call the cops on me if I ever have another rehearsal again. If I can make the noise "half-volume" then it would be okay. I tell her that's impossible, there's only one person currently in the back, that's 1/5th volume right there. She says I have to go find a new place to practice.

Scotty leaves for Maine a couple days later for Winter Break. In this time I seek to find both a new space and a new lead guitarist.

JANUARY 2010: I find a new space at Citysound. My friend Eric points me in the direction of this space through his old band, Solid Gold, and a collaborator named Lucas. Upon hearing about us wanting to move in, Solid Gold opts to move out, making the rent higher. We now pay $200 as a band, along with all but one paying Scotty. I also make an executive decision to go as a four piece from here on out. I'm not having any luck finding another guitarist.

Scotty returns at the end of the month, and we have one rehearsal as a four piece. It's productive, but not the best. A week later, the bills need to be paid to Citysound, Lucas, and Scotty. Adri opts out at this point, stating that he cannot pay for everything now, and that he can't commit to two bands and looking for a job, having been recently laid off from his day job. Rehearsals have to go on hold.

I find responses to my Bassist Needed ads on the web, but they all ask why we're paying the drummer and nobody else. Eric has texted me in the meantime, asking if I still needed a bass player. I trust him and his abilities, I say sure.

FEBRUARY 2010: Eric becomes the next bass player. Two rehearsals are had, but again they're not as productive as I'd like. I start opting to take out everything we've learned so far, thinking that our current setup is not conducive to the material just yet. In time it will be. I draw up new plans, and we start working on them. The sound is good, the material solid. I'm finally happy with the setup and the direction we are going.

MARCH 2010: Just before the first rehearsal of the month, Eric opts out due to the hefty fees, the job obligations, and not being able to commit to more than one band at a time. A recurring theme. The fees for Scotty and rent go up so much so that I become resilient to keep paying Scotty at all.

Currently, I'm at a crossroads. My live band is falling apart. My drummer is on the fritz due to money constraints, I've lost my fourth player. I've thought to become a three piece, but the money is a major factor now if Patch is to be a three-piece. Everything I had back in October/November has fallen apart. I am paying an arm and a leg due to mainly two factors: being outed from my home's rehearsal space and having a committed drummer who wishes to be paid at every rehearsal.

I'm a man come apart.

Yet, I did receive the final master of Schematics today. But I quite possibly have no live band to show for it.

"Follow your dreams" is a bullshit statement at the moment.

The Black Cloud Over Patch Continues to Rain Down on my Persistent Climb

Adri has left the live band. Which puts me at a fork in the road.

I will feverishly search for a new bassist. If this doesn't turn up any results by the end of the Super Bowl on February 7th . . . we're going three piece.

That might be interesting . . .

A New Beginning

Moved into the new space this weekend. Had our first official rehearsal this afternoon.

I say first OFFICIAL rehearsal only in that it was after a long spout of inactivity. During this time I was figuring out the setup of the band, the space, it was unfocused. Now, it's full speed ahead until we hit the stage. When that will happen exactly I can't say. I CAN say in the spring, though.

Here's a snippet of an intro to Typosgraphy . . .

Bukowski Might Have Said This

On my calendar, there's a nice little bunch of blocked off sections of color coded events marked "OMISS WRITING". In this time of no live activity, I've tried my damndest to come up with 3 good songs to record in the next month. Holy Hell, I forgot how much I hated obligatory writing.

You can't rush this sort of thing. All of my songs came to me sporadically, whilst on the bus, doing work at a day job . . . more often than not, while shitting on the toilet. The only song that was forced, like literally forced out of me in an extreme bout of frustration due to booking a hotel room and shacking up by myself for the entire night to write an entire EP's worth of material . . . was "Trachomanic". That was the only time something stuck out of force. The rest came out of the blue.

I've got some good ideas, but they're complicated. I wanted this to be more found instrument based, pots and pans, acoustic, electronic loops, nothing too difficult. I'm currently futzing with a song that has crazy drum loops that change from one section to the next.

How's about we take a break from all this and write when it hits me in the shower? I might just scrap a lot of what I've got for the sake of simplicity. I don't want this to turn into another "Schematics", slaving away for a year in my room. A month at most should be the timetable.

Don't force art. It will turn out shitty. If it has to be forced, set up a strict deadline so that you get creative out of necessity. But it can't be a made up deadline that you make for your own timetable, it has to be something for someone else . . . I can't explain it.

Just cool it, Pete. No pressure.

Moving plans have changed, as well. Solid Gold is moving from the space and forfeiting their keys and cards over to us. We move next week, most likely. We also resume rehearsals next weekend.

This time they won't let up until we have live shows.

Three More . . .

Brothers in Arms

More people are in place. Patch has obtained a new member and collaborator . . .

http://schuylertsuda.com/