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It’s been some kind of journey.  Towards the end there is usually less and less to say. There will be plenty of time to talk more as the walrus suggests- of shoes and ships and sealing wax, and of course, cabbages and kings.  But for now…and for this thing we are doing…the words will soon be coming to a rest stop.  There will be another time to write again, but this particular chapter is coming to a close.

With the completion of this record comes the end of a document.  What started as a few words to describe a simple reaction to something musical seemed to turn into some sort of five year long monologue on the making of our rock n’ roll record.  And after tomorrow, that will accomplished.  So at least for now…this blog will come to an end.

But the end of something is the beginning of something else.  And we are certainly looking forward to to this next beginning…whatever exactly it ends up being!  And it is perhaps most important at this time to recognize just how many wonderful, talented, and beautiful people were involved in the creation of this beginning.

So as a final curtain for this blog, I invite you to meet the players involved in the making of Lickpenny Loafer’s first full-length record – ‘People Will Talk’.

Devin Hannan

Devin is the other half of the musical vision of Lickpenny Loafer.  Without him, there is no Lickpenny Loafer.  To say any more will be to always say too little.  Suffice to say that a drunken 1am call placed 12 years ago out of the phone booth of the Weaver’s Arms would start a very long (and ongoing), remarkable conversation.  What else can I say?  To say any more will be to always say too little.

Steve Skratt

Another one where words dont seem to do a whole lot to explain.  Steve is our producer and guide.  He is equipped with the most incredible understanding and sensibilities when it comes to the world of recording music.  The shear vastness of Steve’s knowledge when it comes to the history of records, musicians, gear, studios, etc, etc, etc is mind-blowing.  Dont be surprised if a music history book comes out one day authored by Mr. Skratt.

Steve’s sense of musical vision is scary good. He is  incredibly open-minded, patient, and most importantly – decisive.  He also plays on the album – contributing glockenspiel, synthesizer, and a little piano while always  constantly dipping into his lab of tricks to find the right sound for a particular part that someone was playing.  Without Steve Skratt, ‘People Will Talk’ never gets made.   It’s that simple.

Stephan Szczesniak

“I hear…I hear something else…I hear crazy tribal rhythms…I hear great intensity…”.  I remember Stephan calling me up and  telling me this shortly after he heard an early recording of a live version of ‘In Retrospect’ before we had ever played it live with him.  And man did those comments excite me.  Not just because that particular song was due for yet another turn in its evolution – that story deserves its own chapter – but because when a musician of Stephan’s calibre is interested in your music, you pay attention.

Stephan is in many ways the best musician in our band.  Playing with him has made us all a heck of a lot better as musicians.  I cant tell you what its like to play live knowing youve got a fine Swiss watch back behind you keeping time.  Your confidence soars – its like you get drive a car that you know has a top-of-the-line engine.  You can shift recklessly or swerve wildly…but the ride is always going to be smooth.

But what I love most about Stephan’s playing is his feel.  Stephan would be a tremendous Mrdingam or Tabla player (both Indian classical percussion instruments)- that is because these are instruments which not only demand great technical ability but are perfected by only those who truly understand the rhythm of the soul.

There are those that have rhythm.  Then there are those talented percussionists who can command rhythm.  And then there is a very select few who can breathe rhythm.

Stephan Szczesniak breathes rhythm.

Darren Ford

Darren joined the band immediately after we completed our first record ‘Introducing Lickpenny Loafer’.  In fact, his first show was the CD Release for that record.  He learned our 9 song set for that show in a week and has been part of the band ever since.

Lickpenny Loafer is a band that has many voices.  Darren’s knowledge of electric playing and use of pedals enables him to integrate wonderfully woven textures into the songs.  Darren’s guitar playing is like the sound of water hitting the shore on a summer night …you know it’s there but it doesn’t overwhelm you.  And if it was missing, it would change everything.

Todd Larter

Todd was the last member to join Lickpenny Loafer.  He is a versataile musician who can play guitars and bass.  Initially, for live shows, Todd would rotate to whatever was needed for a song, switching often between bass, acoustic, and electric guitars while also supplying backing vocals.

As the band has evolved though, it is Todd’s talents as a bassist that have re-defined his role in the band.  His bass playing on songs like Keys to the City is divine.  And with Todd holding down the low end, Devin has now been freed up to return even more to his first love- lead guitar.

The release of ‘People Will Talk’ and the subsequent shows that follow it will reveal a more traditional lineup for Lickpenny Loafer with less of the ‘switcharoo’ going on between bandmates.  One might be inclined to think that for a band to evolve, band members should take on more roles.  In reality (for us anyway), it is the simplification of this lineup has truly made us a better band.

Philip Bachli

Phil is a very close friend of the band and a contributor in a variety of ways.  He started off his contributions by just never missing one of our shows.  As time went on, and as he journeyed into his own songwriting, he began to collaberate with the band.  The End of the Fair is a collaberative effort between Phil and the band.  He is a co-writer on the song – in fact, it was his sketch that started it all.

Phil has also been doing some multimedia work for us and filmed over 20 hours of raw video footage from the recording sessions for ‘People Will Talk’.  He is using that footage for a range of projects around the album including promo videos and a potential documentary on the making of the album.

Scott Galloway

One of the things we sought to do with ‘People Will Talk’ was integrate other musicians and instruments into the studio representations of these songs.  Scott Galloway plays all of the piano parts (save a couple trinkets played by Mr. Skratt) on the album.

I was fortunate enough to meet Scott at the wedding of bandmate from uni (Matt Daviau) in Las Vegas.  The only time I actually heard things go quiet in Vegas was when Scott started playing, at the urging of his sister and bride of the wedding, at a piano bar in New York New York.  Everyone stopped, turned around, and listened in awe.  I joined him shortly after for a rendition of Marvin Gaye’s ‘Let’s Get it On’ and I pretty much knew then and there that we had to get him to play on our record.

Scott’s playing is a wonderful combination of confident and delicate.  He does an amazing job of playing the ‘inbetween’ notes which isnt always done wel (or even done at all)  in rock music.  His playing can be found all over ‘People Will Talk’ and in particular his playing on ‘Pistachio’ creates some of my personal favorite moments on the record.  The recording of End of the Fair – one take of Scott playing and myself singing simoltaneously – would prove to be one of the most magical moments in the studio.

Chris Church

Chris is a tremendously accomplished Canadian session and tour violinist.  His credits include being Jesse Cook’s tour violin player, among many others.  Chris is also a very accomplished songwriter in his own right and released a record of his own in 2010.  He also writes music for film and television.

Chris plays on three songs on the record – Slow Pour, Pistachio, and In Retrospect.  We were thrilled to have him provide the string pads that lift various movements in Slow Pour and Pistachio.  But it was his playing on In Retrospect which left us all jaw-dropped.  In Retrospect was by the far the biggest song to tame in the studio, and it was Chris’ contributions on the song that really enabled us to start to get hold of the beast.

Kevin Fox

Kevin Fox is one of the premier cello session players in all of North America.  Kevin has contributed his work to the likes of Raine Maida, Celine Dion, Chantal Kreviazuk, Tom Cochrane, and many others.

But the reason Kevin is so special for us is because he helped to realize…bring to life…one of the songs most near and dear to us – ‘Better Days’.  As the album closer, it was a song that required a lot of thought around how to approach it in the studio.  In the end, a stripped down version (in the style that the song was originally written) with only the addition of Kevin’s masterful cello playing did the trick.

Evan Ritchie

Evan is a Toronto-based percussionist trained in both rock and Indian classical music styles.  His main instrument of choice is the wave drum.  He uses it to create a range of sounds and rhythms that can be applied in many different ways to a song.  His playing can be found on ‘King Henry VIII’ and ‘In Retrospect’.

Jeremy Darby

You can have all the great songs you like- but it dont mean jack if you cant get beautiful sounds in the studio.  Jeremy Darby has been creating beautiful sounds in studios for a very long time.

As recording engineer for the album and owner of Canterbury Studios – where the album was tracked and mixed – Jeremy was an absolute pleasure to work with.  Along with a tremendous technicial knowledge, Jeremy brings a lot of creative energy as a recording engineer.  He played an active role in the exploration and development of ideas in the studio and really creates a playground-like atmosphere in the studio.

Working with Jeremy was just awesome.  He is also blessed with the sharpest wit this side of Canterbury.

Sam Ibbett

When July and August 2010 rolled around, ‘People Will Talk’ stalled.  Save a few valuable sessions here and there spent editing with the very helpful Andrew Heppner, the album felt like it had hit a wall.  It was hard to imagine how we were going to get to the next phases of the record.

Enter Sam Ibbett.  A record takes a long time to make and there are many peaks and valleys.  We were in a valley and Sam led us to the next peak.  He had just come back from some needed time off and brought a tremendous amount of enthusiasm and spirit into the process.  In short, he really helped breath new life into the record.

Sam was the mixing engineer for ‘People Will Talk’.  He is young (well…young like us in the band…we’re all young right?!), very likeable, enthusiastic, really bright, really good at what he does, and he loves music.  He’s already accomplished a significant body of work and he no doubt will continue to move on to bigger and better things throughout the world of making music.  Even after being holed up with him in studio B for just about a month and tearing our hair out several times over these songs, I can say unflinchingly it was an absolute pleasure.

Andrew Heppner

The ‘Hep’ is another Canterbury guy and helped us out with some much needed editing prior to the mixing phase.  Many long, boring hours that still require total focus and attention- we’re very thankful for the time he took to help us get everything ready for the mixing stage.

Peter Moore

We did our research and Peter is the cream of the crop when it comes to mastering engineers in Canada.  As both Sam and Jeremy told me, “He just makes records sound really really good- that’s all he does”.

———————

A project of this magnitude requires hard work and focus from so many.  A lot of really talented, amazing people were involved in the making of ‘People Will Talk’.  It was a pleasure working with them all.  Making this record was a realization of a dream.  Completing this record is not a endpoint, but rather a beginning.  We look foward excitedly to our next set of challenges and adventures, being an Indie band in the wonderful world of music.

From all of us in Lickpenny Loafer – thanks, thanks, more thanks, and much love to all.

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But maybe the truth is a lot like an old joke about the newspaper.  Things aren’t black or white.  Things are black AND white.  And grey all over.  Let me explain.

I think the truth is that we live in a world entrenched in dichotomy.  In politics for example we claim beliefs as sometimes being ‘left of center’ or ‘right of center’.  But ultimately we vote for one party or one candidate.  We believe in the interpretation of the law but ultimately we decide whether someone is guilty or innocent.  We recognize that the art in front of us has different meanings and evokes a range of responses- but we are clear about what music we think is good and what we think is bad.  I don’t think any of this is a bad thing.  From infrared to ultraviolet, we feel compelled to see and understand the full spectrum.  We need to be able to define it and then choose based on how we have defined it- our progress depends on it.

But let’s be clear then- much of the world is indeed black and white.

One of my two favorite chapters in the book Life of Pi (the other being the one on ‘Fear’) talks about the two personalities of the sea.  It acknowledges the great many skies, clouds, and waters that the main character, Pi, sees.  But at one point, it talks about the sea as a world of opposites- of things coming down to black and white.  Pi says, “Otherwise, to be a castaway is to be caught up in grim and exhausting opposites.  When it is light, the openness of the sea is blinding and frightening.  When it is dark, the darkness is claustrophobic.  When it is day, you are hot and wish to be cool and dream of ice cream and pour sea water on yourself.  When it is night, you are cold and wish to be warm and dream of hot curries and wrap yourself in blankets.  When it is hot, you are parched and wish to be wet.  When it rains, you are nearly drowned and wish to be dry….”  And so on.

Sometimes waking up everyday is a little like being caught up in grim and exhausting opposites.  Im good at my job.  Im terrible at my job.  Im in great shape.  Im feeling unhealthy.  I have the power to realize my dreams.  I can’t even even seem to do the dishes properly today.  Im so happy.  Im so unhappy.

It is our minds that constantly urge us to focus on one or the other.  And when it is further convenient, we swim in ambiguity.  But why not we contend with the idea that both are true?  And that neither are false?  Is that fuzzy logic?  It just depends how we look at it.

So in life.  So in music.

I am reminded of an email exchange I had with Devin a few years back (2004).  I was living in Johannesburg, SA at the time and he back in Toronto.  He had sent me some comments he had on a piece he read about the Apollonian versus the Dionysian approach to art (based on the characteristics of the Greek gods Apollo and Dionysus from Greek Mythology).

Below is the transcript of the full email exchange:

——————————————————————————————————

Ron,

What are your thoughts of the following excerpt (taken from http://www.historyguide.org/europe/dio_apollo.html), in regards to being a musician/songwriter (i.e. agree or disagree?):

Apollonian and Dionysian are terms used by Nietzsche in The Birth of Tragedy to designate the two central principles in Greek culture. The Apollonian, which corresponds to Schopenhauer’s principium individuationis (“principle of individuation”), is the basis of all analytic distinctions. Everything that is part of the unique individuality of man or thing is Apollonian in character; all types of form or structure are Apollonian, since form serves to define or individualize that which is formed; thus, sculpture is the most Apollonian of the arts, since it relies entirely on form for its effect. Rational thought is also Apollonian since it is structured and makes distinctions.

The Dionysian, which corresponds roughly to Schopenhauer’s conception of Will, is directly opposed to the Apollonian. Drunkenness and madness are Dionysian because they break down a man’s individual character; all forms of enthusiasm and ecstasy are Dionysian, for in such states man gives up his individuality and submerges himself in a greater whole: music is the most Dionysian of the arts, since it appeals directly to man’s instinctive, chaotic emotions and not to his formally reasoning mind.

Nietzsche believed that both forces were present in Greek tragedy, and that the true tragedy could only be produced by the tension between them. He used the names Apollonian and Dionysian for the two forces because Apollo, as the sun-god, represents light, clarity, and form, whereas Dionysus, as the wine-god, represents drunkenness and ecstasy.

____________________________

Devin Hannan, B.A.Sc.

|

Ron Subramanian

Wed, Oct 13, 2004 at 7:14 PM

to Devin Hannan

great art and great music work best with different approaches…I think the result is somewhere
inbetween…you have a strong commitment to form but are not afraid to
venture to experimental places…i have a fascination with the
intangible/inexplicable/indescribable, but i am willing to go to the
middle-ground to articulate it…a very interesting article…i like
it

On Wed, 13 Oct 2004 10:52:34 -0400, Hannan, Devin

To me

In the context of songwriting in general, I do not entirely agree with
the author’s comment that music “appeals directly to man’s instinctive,
chaotic emotions and not to his formally reasoning mind.”  While this is
true to some extent, the way the author has stated it makes it sound too
definitive.  The history of music demonstrates that music itself is of a
highly mathematical nature and logically structured. Indeed, I’m sure
the most accomplished of musicians will admit to systematically and
rationally writing many of their songs, as opposed to letting instinct
and chaos put notes on the page.

On the subject of live musical performance, however, or the act of
listening to live music, this can often reach a Dionysian experience. In
fact, I am at my most Dionysian when on stage playing a jam.

Thus, a theory to ponder:

Studio = Apollonian

Stage = Dionysian

?

No, I think at the proper times, they’re both extremely important in any
music

—————————————————————————

I found it more than just interesting re-reading this exchange.  Apollonian and Dionysian approaches aside, there is power in straying from the ‘grey’.  Grey is full of nothingness.  It is neither here nor there.  It is a cop-out.  Embracing both black and white…it makes you think about the edges, the boundaries.  To be blunt, being at the stage we are at in the studio right now, one is very much drawn to ideas that will help explain and understand what the hell we’re actually doing.  Sometimes you are hanging off some kind of edge.  Some days you wake up and you feel like you are there- like you’ve finally said what you’ve wanted to say.  Other days you wake up and wonder how it is  possible that you can be so far away from your goal.  You are always looking for some kind of validation, some kind of understanding.  So you need to know what the edges, the limits, and the boundaries are.  Just in case you can find a way to push them a little bit.  The world most definitely is black AND white.

And that’s why we musn’t be overcome by the grey.  Every day presents a new opportunity.  We can live within the limits and still stretch the boundaries.  We must take what the day brings and then give back to say thanks.

Let’s wake up confident and go to bed humble.

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Though my memories of those first seven years in her arms have encountered time and distance, I can remember many things still.  Some are full memories, some are pieces, and still others are only glimpses of a past life; one I look forward to reconnecting with.  Interestingly, so much of what I do remember involves music.

I am Canadian.  I have lived a happy life for many years in my adopted country.  I love my adopted home so it is not for reasons of homesickness or lack of identity that I pine for more connection with my birthplace.  But there is something that gnaws at me.  Unfortunately, one does not have multiple bodies and multiple lives to lead.  We belong where we are and do what we must with those circumstances.

But I look at India now (albeit from afar) and I am blown away.  It is hard for me to fathom– thinking back to riding in a taxi at the tender age of seven from grandfather’s house in Bharat Nagar (Delhi) to the airport, bound for Canada, and looking through the car window one last time at this place I was leaving – just how much change and growth the country of my birth has undergone; and it continues to grow at a pace the world has never before seen!  I yearn to reconnect with that place.  I want to know India as it is now and to better understand with what rhythm the heart of my home country now beats with.  Mostly, it is the desire to not only know, but to contribute to a growing fabric of artists and musicians in India that are exploring and discovering the energized world of rock music.  There is such a fantastic music scene developing in India!  It excites me to one day participate in that.

I know that India has a very long and rich history of music.  In fact, I know it first-hand – I was extremely fortunate to grow up in a household utterly devoted to music.  My grandmother, Indira Natesan, was a South Indian classical music composer.  As a toddler in Kolkata, I would be seated on her lap chewing through sari after sari, as she would sit quietly in a kind of trance while she made her compositions.  I suppose this was how I first learned to devour music- literally.  As a child in Chennai, I can remember essentially ‘hanging out’ for hours on end in the houses of timeless musicians like the great violinist  Sri Lalgudi Jayaraman, and the great mridangam player Sri Vellore Ramabhadran.  Time in our house was measured by the passing of days and weeks between ‘Kacheris’ (concerts).  And of course aside from classical music, my ears were constantly fed the vocal stylings of Mohammed Rafi, Lata Mangeshkar, and other Indian film music virtuosos.  It also helped to have a mother who is a singer, and my father who was- well, who was easily the biggest lover of music I have ever known.

When we moved to Canada, the influence of Indian music on me became even greater.  My family, as many Indian families living abroad can attest to, seemed to work as hard as possible at participating in and preserving those aspects of culture of their home country they so conflictingly left behind.  For us that meant music from dawn to dusk.  In the morning it was Suprabhatam (Sanskrit hymns), the afternoon was a steady stream of carnatic music, and the evening, especially when spent with other Indian families, was a recap of all of the new Bollywood hits- karaoke style.

And always there were visiting musicians and concerts.  I can remember tagging along on ten hour drives from Toronto to U.S cities like Washington D.C, Trenton (New Jersey), and Pittsburgh just so my parents could see a concert by a beloved artist from the homeland.  And many times when artists came to Toronto, my own family had the incredible honor of playing host and having them stay with us.  It is an honor I know I did not fully understand or appreciate – to have the likes of Sri Lalgudi Jayaraman or Vikku Vinayakram (ghatam) gracing you with their presence, sharing their wisdom and joy for both music and life, in your own humble house.  I may not have appreciated it then, but I do so much appreciate those times now.

But you see back then I was discovering a slightly different path.  I was just finding my teenage legs.  I was growing my hair long, stealing time whenever I could with my sister’s new acoustic guitar, and discovering three very important things – Led Zeppelin, Nirvana, and the Smashing Pumpkins!  I had discovered rock n’ roll and I was hooked.  I started my first band at the ripe age of sixteen and never looked back.

I started writing my own songs at a voracious pace since the time I was eighteen.  At first, many were throw-aways, but over time certain songs here and there would come to contribute as building blocks for the Lickpenny Loafer sound.  Some of these songs were directly influenced by my Indian roots.  Exploring ragas in particular became part of how our band was negotiating melodies.  And as a vocalist, my style was affected just as much by hearing K.V Narayanaswamy sing live as it was by listening for hours on end to The Doors records and Jim Morrison’s voice.  At the end of the day when playing most of its songs, Lickpenny Loafer is very much a rock n’ roll band.  But if you look carefully, deep in the underbelly of our overall sound you can find several traces of Indian influence.

As I look back over the last decade, I feel lucky to live a life with so much music in it.  There is also one that fact has never escaped me- if it wasn’t for my Indian roots and the influence that it has had in my life, I would have never become a musician.  Now our band, Lickpenny Loafer, is set to release its first full-length album (second overall), and I am ready to give back.

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Once in a while you come upon a nice crisp sheet with very clear, legible writing, that’s filed away in an unmarked…well…sometimes a file actually. These types exist few and far between. But once in a blue moon you find them resting neatly in their own cozy space. These are often what become of the few (very few) poems ive ever written.

I often clarify many differences between words put together for the express purpose of lyrics and everything else so I won’t get into all the reasons why these pieces of paper are different. But safe to say, I know the difference simply by looking at the condition of the paper and the manner in which they are preserved:) Yep, these tidy and pristine guys are definitely poems. And believe me, it doesn’t mean in positively any way at all that those crumpled up lyrics sheets are valued the slightest bit less- it’s just that’s the world they live in…you know they interact with music…they’re more chaotic…they stop for a drink or a smoke and hang out wherever they feel like it…freakin’ delinquents…you don’t have very much control over them, they seem to do what they want to do.

But the poems are so thoughtful and well-behaved. Like English school children dressed up and ready for a Sunday picnic.

Here’s a sample from one dating back ten years:

Complain

All ants work hard,
If we don’t, we die,
If we die, our colony dies,
We do what we must, so we can survive.

Meaning aside, i can see why these guys find their own space and not want to hang with the kids from the other side of tracks if you know what I mean.

Here’s the one i stumbled on yesterday, sitting very neatly at the bottom of a pile of books…unfortunately not dated, and title-less…but i was immediately reminded of that moment in which it came…

In a valley below,
Where the shores won’t go,
Lived a hapless man
who strung beads into wands.

Though everywhere he wandered slow,
It was only into secrets he would go-
For therein lies the magic of old,
Simple wisdom for a simple folk.

Yeah, so these guys are a bit different. But let’s try and make space for everything here…especially flotsam and jetsam.

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In the event of the maiden voyage of star explorer X is an exploration into the space continuum. And yet it’s a song not interested in science-fiction. It’s more interested in what people think. It’s mostly interested in what people think at a certain moment in time, within this limitless space.

Cover it up, hover on up, get in this spaceship rocket…
Remove it from park, set if for far, put on your antennae….

What if we were to make our own universe? One that made sense to us…that ignored the obvious existence we seem to contend with. Or maybe ignore the one we seem content with.

Explode warp speed! This ain’t a picture at the drive-in.
This is your life flashing back.

We had some tough but very good meetings lately. There are songs that will not progress at this time- songs that will not make it on the album anyway. In short, no ” Astronautica”, no “Armour Man”. These are songs that are important to us, and yet must be put on the backburner. That’s difficult to swallow at first. They are still close to us, and there might still be a future for them….but not in this moment.

An album is conceptual. It has ideas flowing forwards and backwards. And everything has a way of being seemingly integrated.

Alien dreams,
In alien nights,
With alien lovers,
Living alien lives…

I’m proud of the rehearsal that we had today. Three of the new songs have found new life for this record and that is important. Well, more than important…who cares about important. It feels good.

You might realize we’re changing,
You might realize I’m wrong,
In this world you can’t be frozen,
In this world you might fall short.

Uncertainty is the only certainty.
Change is the only constant. We feel comfortable with that- if change is a constant that means align yourself with (or fall into) the rhythm of it doesn’t it?

You could fall into a sunrise,
You could awaken at dusk,
In this world you must be open,
In this world you can’t find fault.

So let’s chill. Let’s sit back and relax and see where it wants to go.
As the walrus said to the carpenter, “the time has come to talk of many things,
of shoes and ships and sealing wax…
of CABBAGES AND KINGS!”

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But ‘unsureness’ always creeps in.  The more you understand something, the deeper you fall into it, the more layers you uncover, you stare that question right in the face- do you know what you’re doing?  Do you know what you’re getting into?  Have you thought this through?  Are you in control?  And ultimately are you happy with it?

I’m reassured by the answer to the last question.  Yeah sure, why not.  Yeah, maybe not all the time, but in general this feels like the right thing, the right direction.  I’m having a glass of wine thinking about something that I know I am excited to happen, and that makes sense to me.  But once you’re past that part…you start to wander

We’re making lots of decisions and adjustments right now as we find ourselves on the last stretch of preparation before we hit the studio.  After a considerably more laborious process than we intended, we’ve selected our studio and are booked in for all our time to do our record.  We’re basically at the point where there is no turning back.  It’s a funny point where you’ve convinced yourselves that you know what you are doing and that’s when a bit of pressure starts to build.  So you have some very real fears that appear on cue and show up for the ride.

That’s part of it right?  You can’t know everything there is to know about it right?  That’s why we rely on each other I guess.  One of the best parts of being in a band is the comradery you share with a group of people.  Everyone brings something to the table and at the end of the day you build something together.  It’s so often that the confidence you have in the others trumps the insecurities you have about yourself, and that’s what motivates you even further to pull your weight.

Questions aside and fears aside, it makes sense that we are where we should be.  You can’t know everything, you can’t have it all figured out.  That’s not the way it works.  There are still a few of the songs that we are not at all sure what approach to take for recording.  That’s ok.  But as I sit here sipping on this glass of Campo Viejo Crianza I can’t help but brace myself just a little    This ship has sailed just a little further out to sea and we are acknowledging the personality of the open water.

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It is my belief now that following such a sequence of movements in physical training has made me a better musician.  I believe further that some of the principles behind such sequences of movements translate seamlessly in the pursuit of many artistic endeavors. Err…I think boxing can help you develop your art…kind of.

Over the last year I’ve incorporated boxing into my training regimen for a variety of reasons – I’ve always been a big fan of the sport, it’s an incredible workout, and it’s great fun to punch something.  But more recently, I find that I’m learning more from it than I thought I would.

Boxing and music? Upon initial examination, there doesn’t appear to be much in common between the two.  But looking beneath the surface, it’s hard not to quickly appreciate just why boxing is an art-form.  Yes it’s violent because your brushes are actually fists, and the canvas is another man’s face and body.  But that certainly doesn’t mean it’s barbaric; on the contrary there is much that points to it having significant artistic value. (In fact, don’t take it from me – read George Plimpton or Norman Mailer on the subject.)

The word pugilism itself is a top-notch euphemism for a reason; its existence and use is well-justified.  (Looking further, even boxing’s cousins are part of a family of skills and philosophies academically referred to as the martial arts.)

People think that when you box that you’re only using your body as a weapon.  That’s only partially true.  The uppercut and the right hook may be very true expressions of power, but there is much more to pugilism that is closer to ballet than battle.  The body as a whole bobs and weaves.  It remains fluid, even while shifting swiftly and changing direction, adjusting angles and calculating distances.  The feet and legs are constantly moving; it is of little surprise that a first boxing lesson will usually begin with a skipping rope.  As well, various punching combinations require very intricate and detailed movements from all parts of the body.  Swan Lake they may not be, but they are practiced with utmost grace and balance.  And the jab…that pure punch that is the jab…the jab sings and dances with mischief.   Mohammed Ali always believed that the jab should snake out and kiss your opponent on the cheek- to control him and to allow you to measure your distance to him, to let him know you’re there and to let him know that you’re coming.  Of course, towards the later rounds of a fight, that can feel more like being kissed by flying concrete.

There is indeed rhythm, poetry, melody, and harmony to these movements.  The body in such motion, executing powerful and precise steps in a nimble and fluid manner, is a classic muse for any sculptor or creator.  But maybe the process of actually building that body is where I find even more valuable lessons in relation to music.

Training.  Preparation.  Hard Work.  Repetition.  Practice.  Sweat.

Preparing the body for a boxing match is a painfully exhausting exercise.  Fighters must do their best to stay in shape all year round and then hold an extremely intense training camp for 6-8 weeks before a fight.  Your skill-level and performance is a direct result of the work you put in during practice, both from the years of work and learning as well as your immediate training.  Whether you’re preparing yourself for the stage or the ring, the importance of preparation is the same.  I remember when we recorded our EP, how much time we took prior to going into the studio to be prepared.  It wasn’t just about reviewing all of the parts that we needed to play.  It was about ensuring that we could play any part on command, perfectly to a click, and having the mentality and confidence in the material built in to incorporate changes on the fly.  It was about having the ability to be in shape and stick to the game plan, while also being ready to improvise and seize unforeseen opportunity.

This time around our undertaking is far greater.  We have a lot more songs and so it will take more time, energy, preparation, and creativity than we’ve ever known.  We have to take full advantage of every moment available and continue to pour in the work in this remaining time to be ready.

You need to be able to go 12 rounds with him.

Cardio.  Endurance.  That’s what gets you there.  Gets you to the end.  You don’t want to punch yourself out and gas the way Foreman did in Zaire.  You can’t quit the way Duran did against Leonard.

The hardest part about doing anything is the next part.  In music, the hardest part is coming up with an idea for a song.  Then the hardest part is creating song structure.  Then the hardest part is negotiating the vocal line and finding the right lyrics.  Then the hardest part is finding the right arrangement.  Then the hardest part is testing it live.  And after that, it’s preparing to record it in a studio.  And so on, and so on.  You catch my drift?  The hardest part of anything is the next part.  And so by that logic, the truly hardest part is always the finish.  The last 10 %, down to the final 5 %, and then that very last thing you need to do to finish – that’s when things get really hard.  But that’s when all of the years of learning and training hopefully pay off.  That’s when you have to dig deep and finish strong.

I don’t want confuse.  Making music and making a record has many, many things associated with it that have absolutely nothing to do with engaging another person in hand-to-hand combat.  But if we are to look at how the body and mind works in one way, compared with how it works in another, we can learn and apply a lot of translatable techniques.  At the end of the day, whether you’re boxing, playing an instrument, or making a film…you are expressing something.  You are creating an expression- of the body, of the mind, whatever.

At the end of the day we must put ourselves in a position or state to give the best in that moment of expression with what we have.  That allows us the best chance of producing something authentic.  And THAT…that’s the real challenge.  It’s like Bruce Lee once said in an interview with Pierre Berton “It is easy for me to put on a show and be cocky and be flooded with a cocky feeling, and feel pretty cool…and I can show you some really fancy movement…but to express oneself honestly, not lying to oneself…To express myself honestly – now that my friend is very hard to do.”

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Access to everything.  Access to information.   Access to immediate news.  Access to the inner workings of everything.  Answers to questions.  Answers to what is on our minds precisely at this moment.  The answer to how many different types of dijon mustard exist.  We live in an age where access to information is everything.  (And access to music?  Did I just ask that question? )

So….We’ve been thinking a lot about track selection.  There are several songs that are part of our live repertoire which are obvious selections.  But…there are others that fall into other categories- they haven’t been tried out live; or maybe, they need to exist as studio songs to find real life.  We don’t know.  But we’re going through this process right now.

Dev and I spent considerable time last weekend on these ‘other’ ones.  ‘Which’ of these ‘other’ songs fit in with the album?  Which of these will be added to the live repertoire?  Most of all, which of these are truly good songs?   We don’t know.

This is what pre-production is all about.

We have 6-7 definitive songs chosen for this album.  We have another 7-8 that we are determining, workshopping, trying to understand for ourselves, etc.  There is an additional 3 or 4 that are clear dark horses.  And to top it all off, we just finished writing a brand new song over the weekend.  It is called The Promise, but that’s all we can share so far.  No sketch will be posted for now as we are so close to recording.   It will either make it on the album, or fade away into musical obvlivion!  (Isn’t melodrama lovely?)

But it is exciting.  The process of song selection is so much more about actually playing, feeling, working, and living these songs, than it is picking from an imaginary hat.   There’s more thought into this part of the process than we figured- well, partly because we didn’t realize that there were this many to choose from.

Yes, songs like Slow Pour, Keys to the City, and King Henry VIII are obvious Yes’s.   But what about Lost and Found, Astronautica, and Galaxity/Night Drive?  And beyond that, what about that enigma of a song that has excited, indulged, toyed with, terrorized, and challenged us most of all – In Retrospect??  Will we finally commit to recording this one?  (For the record, this song has gone through more changes than any song that we have ever written.  It started as a simple acoustic expression and after considerable South Indian Classical influence and Stephan Sczeczniakian rhythamic agression has become an untamed, furious, and overwhelming scream.   Dev and I are feeling more and more like the truth worth recording about this song lies somewhere inbetween.)

So, indeed we are somewhat in the process of choosing.  But choice is not something you just up and decide.  Sometimes you have to gravitate towards it, lean into it, get a sense of it, and work with it.  Just like most of the choices in our lives.

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It was Einstein who said, “It is becoming increasingly clear that our technology is surpassing our humanity”. Today, technology isn’t even the driver- it’s just the vehicle. Information is the guy sitting behind the wheel. And no one can seem to get enough of him.

And so it is with a sense of total fascination, awe, confusion, and excitement about the world around us, that we announce through our Internet website/blog/facebook/twitter machine the officially the beginning of the recording of our first full-length album. Yes, yes I know, we’ve talked about it for a while, but this time it’s different. The timing is right, the method is there, the studio has been chosen, and the writing is on the wall.

Life is about having as few as possible regrets. For some reason I am reminded of Hugh Laurie’s character’s assertion in the TV show House, “Dying people lie, too. Wish they’d worked less, been nicer, opened orphanages for kittens. If you really want to do something, you do it. You don’t save it for a sound bite.”

So that’s mostly it for reflective sound bites on the matter. Sort of. Well, one more thing. The fact is that this is something Lickpenny Loafer has been building towards for a long time. And any which way you look at it, it falls squarely upon our own shoulders to get this thing done. No one is going to come along and magically make it happen for you.

In a sense, you could say “We fought the music industry and the music industry won!” You just can’t waste your days magically hoping for the industry to make your dreams possible. And that’s not because there aren’t good people involved in the industry. There absolutely is, lots of them, doing many important and great things. Especially at the local and regional level. In fact, in Toronto alone, there are so many incredible people who are very dedicated to promoting the oasis of indie music in our special city.

It’s the larger side of the industry that’s having a tough time. Look – the infrastructure of the whole f*king thing – the process of discovering bands, recording music, distributing music, playing shows and touring – is standing on its head. And it will still take a while before new models for each of the pieces are established. And it’s likely that the models of the “new” music industry will move even further down the path of being based on grass roots and Do-it-Yourself methodology. It’s a freakin Revolution!!

But revolution aside, we don’t have the kind of time to wait any longer. I don’t say that because we are in a rush. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. I think we bade our time very carefully; we have been extremely cautious and calculated about every step and risk. Some might argue too much (but after careful consideration, we would respectfully disagree with them ) No, we don’t have the kind of time to wait, simply because the timing is just right.

I liken it to what Sun Tzu preaches in the Art of War- that you must wait for the chosen moment (in the case of war, when all other avenues of peaceful victory are lost) and then strike swiftly, deftly, and convincingly. Recording an album may not be anything like entering the battlefield, but like confrontation, it does subscribe to idea of perfect or close-to perfect timing. And when the moment is chosen, executing must similiarly be swift, effective, and convincing. If you don’t give it the requisite energy or if the process drags out too long, your music suffers.

So that’s where it is. We’ll keep you posted.

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