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I am a Los Angeles-based twentysomething. I have a profession, and I have a secret life in music, and this blog isn't about any of that. I like Blogger because I can't read what you're thinking.

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Tuesday, June 15   >>


Last night my new band (whose name you'll find out in an easter egg in a few weeks) met up last night for the first time.

It really was weird. Usually vocalists are the hardest to find. Last night, one just fell on our collective lap and delivered.

It was also fun. It was really loud. It certainly wasn't perfect, but we all put our bleeding souls into it.

We all come from a line of failed groups, so we empathize each other for things not having worked out in years/months past.

The Phil is a guy I've been talking about this project with for a few weeks. When we first spoke about it, he kind of blew my mind away.
THE PHIL: So you want me to play mid-range strings?

HUGO: Sure.

THE PHIL: But you have a cello?

HUGO: Yep.

THE PHIL: How many more people are going to be in the group?

HUGO: 8 in rehearsals. 12 for tracking and shows.

THE PHIL: I don't think you want a band...

HUGO: Huh?

THE PHIL: You want a headache.
Rule #1: If the music is good, everyone will show up.

Last night, everyone showed up.

"It's loud because, I think, we're all venting." -Guitarist


I learned a new music term last night.

The bass player--an old, old, old peer named The Jason--and I have a shared passion for neo-soul music. Kind of strange to have a conversation about neo-soul in an indie-pop rehearsal, but whatever.

I might get shot for saying this, but what defines neo-soul music to me is phrasing.

There's a very specific type of phrasing in neo-soul music that is directly inherited from gospel music, which is that nothing is really ever "on-the-beat."

There's a laid-back-edness to neo-soul phrasing that is so genuinely emotional that it'd be absolutely impossible to write down on sheet music.

It's called "slugging." Apparently it's a term that I should already know. *shrug*

I just call it "black." Sing it "black." Be "black." That's how my jazz teachers said it in college.

I wish I were black.

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