they start out nice...

The stereotypical house soundman is a grizzly, unapproachable type; inevitably either stressed or reticently upset, not that into your music and unwilling to furnish your requests.

I need you to know: they (we) don't all start out that way.

It's a disposition that gets developed after enough exposure to not enough information, too much asked and no respect given. As with anyone in the service industry, expecting too much, not helping in preparation, and then not giving credit where it's due can take the smiliest, most knowledgeable and ineffably helpful gifted technician and turn him or her into the grumbliest troll.

Save a soul! Respeck your Tech!

D112s on toms

AKG D112

I've been persistently trying different stock mics on toms. EV's N/D468s, the supercard that looks like a little black egg, isn't bad. 57s are consistently good, with a little EQ work, across many styles and competencies as far as drummers go. But I really want to push for the oft-scoffed D112s.

The AKG D112 looks like a Nerf football, with its (aqua? teal? girly green) stripe across its giant oval grill. Looking at the frequency response of this mic as compared to a 57 shows only minor differences:

• a presence peak from 2-5 kHz instead of 4-10 kHz;
• a huuuuge low end boost.

I found, with a common two-tom setup, that I trimmed a bit of the low shelf on the rack tom, left the mid-EQs largely untouched and didn't need to touch the high shelf. With 57s I find myself peeling back high frequencies, as well as seeking out what I imagine are harmonic overtones of the drums fundamental, and gating and boosting the channels like crazy. I still gated them, but didn't have to drive them as high in the mix, which I believe is a result of the drum's fundamental being so supported by the D112's boosted low end.

As a result the toms felt a lot bigger in their classic boomy sound, and weren't quite as slappy as they can be with a 57. They're not much harder to position than a 57 with its long barrel and XLR coming out the end.

However I did just buy a pair of 906s. The D112s I fear may find themselves back in the drawer pretty soon.

DBX 1066 on Mix Buss

A guest soundman recently asked me to patch a DBX 1066 stereo compressor/gate into the Mix Buss. I was hesitant, following the teaching of my master: DBX comps hate being on the mix buss.

But the guest soundman was persistent. He loved the sound, he said, and the key was in setting the ratio at 1:1.5, the threshold up high (+10 or so) and engaging the "Overeasy" button. (This triggers the compressor slightly when the signal is several dB below the threshold).

His mix sounded fine. So I experimented with it myself a few times afterward.

Ultimately, this destroys the high end of the mix. It doesn't sound bad, but it also doesn't sound very good. About the same as pulling back on the Master Fader. Would not recommend.

So that's how it is.

The other day at school:

Mark (RTech instructor): ...and where are you from?
Me: Sarnia, Ottawa, Toronto.
Mark: Ah. You look like you're from Toronto.
Me: That's not very nice!
Mark: Naw, I just mean you have that look of slick confidence about you.

Just a shout out to me at 13, to say that it's worth it, it's working, and keep at it. Believe in yourself!

Metalocalypse

I learned something in class today. Metalocalypse is an animation on Adult Swim about the metal band Dethklok. It's from the dude who brought you Home Movies and uses a Beavis and Butthead style of animation. Actually it's a lot like B & B. But "blacker than the blackest black, times infinity!"

Intro song is here. The rest is on youtube.

RIX WLLZ

I remember recently saying that the only way I would ever own a car is if I won one, or if one was given to me. Well about two weeks ago the latter came true, and now I'm the owner of a flashy, sporty, chicks-dig-it, guys-get-jealous 1992 Mercury Topaz.

My grandmother gave it to me as a gift, and since it was a grandmother's car, it's nearly in mint condition. It's fifteen years old and I drove it past the 17,000 km mark. Me da and I have been fixing and tweaking, having fun working on this little project. You might be surprised that I can fit in it. We might take out the driver's seat and move the bracings further back... then add some hydraulics, lower it down, put on some spinners and a 120w sub in the trunk... maybe not.

We'll see.

Kickass red wipers though, eh?

Windahmeah Manah

Now I'm a parttime porter and server at the Windermere Manor, a conference and banquet (primarily weddings) hall, restaurant and hotel in London. It's part of Research Park and is connected to the UWO, just north of UH on campus. I get to dress up, which something that I secretly enjoy doing. The people I work with are pretty great. Ought to be a good PT position while I'm at school.

We'll see.

Back again

The camping trip, after a number of setbacks, was a huge success. Briefly:
bad -- punctured tire, switching campsites, grumpy nieghbours, too much driving.
good -- the food. the hike. the location (cheers, chris). the drum circles. singalongs. the food. the folks.

And now it's done. Difficult to return to the "real" world, if that's what you call this. Having spent most of my working hours entertaining myself inside my head by elaborating trip plans and practicing songs I would sing, I was stuck this week for something to occupy my mind. I wrote a couple tankas which ended up serving as a sort of catharsis -- I wrote each one about a girl that's had an impact on my life.

A tanka is a poem like a haiku with a syllable pattern of 5-7-5-7-7 (which adds up to 31, no doubt). I wrote fifteen stanzas in all. Here are a few:

TC
it's hard to believe
the games that i used to play
like a school bully
pulling hair, twisting arms means
"i want you to be my friend"

PP
part of me regrets,
but part of me won't forgive;
some of me wants to
see who you are today, but
most of me would rather not.

AC
so pathetically,
you have tied your numb self to
a loveless, clinging,
wife-beating asshole; you got
exactly what you wished for.

MH
because you saw my
semi-secret insides first
you contributed
to the construction of what
was later to become me.

CH
a goddess's grip
moves your pen around shapes of
unbelievable
grace and humility; you
draw fiction but capture truth.

Les Claypool show in Toronto

So the doors opened at 6pm. Gunner and I resolved to leave Max Thain's place at 6:00 to hop on the subway-- the Phoenix was a block away from the Sherbourne stop (which is at 420 Bloor St, I'll have you know). When we arrived, the concert hall was dark, and packed. We huddled near the stage at stage-left, and the band came on almost immediately after.

Les came out in shades and a cowboy cap and made a quip about playing short shows in quick succession as though he were in Vegas. A saxophonist came out and stood at our end of the stage wearing red face paint, devil horns and a mean grimace. He kept doing monkey antics during the show-- shaking his face and the like. He had tenor and baritone saxes; the tenor was hooked up through some sort of processor that made it sound like he was playing guitar solos.

The sitarist on the opposite end of the stage was a woman wearing a long, bright blue wig, Elton John glasses and a goofy lady hat. She would sometimes play through an autowah pedal, super funky. She also used a synthesizer that's played by waving and moving one's hands through an electric field. Weird. Neat.

Les totally owned (that is to say, pwnzed) the band; neat to watch the cues, as he nodded to and communicated with his bandmates, telling them when to solo, cueing when to come back. Huge grins on everyone as they played with him and watched him do what he does-- a bass looks large, intimidating and uncomfortable in many people's hands, but each one seemed natural in his. His hands moved effortlessly doing what seemed difficult if not improbable. He changed basses often and hats/masks just as regularly. After the upright string bass (which is just a neck, doesn't have a body) was set up, he came out on stage with the pig mask. When his historic four string was out, he was wearing a pompadour.

There was also a single-stringed instrument he played, where the neck looked like 2x2 plywood, which he played by slapping the string with a wand or drumstick. Instead of a machinehead the string was attached at the top to a giant lever, and pitch was changed by moving the lever as he slapped with the wand. For this he was wearing an ape mask.

There were two drummers, which I didn't really realize (from my vantage point I couldn't see the back half of the stage very clearly) until the dueling drum solos. One of the drummers had vibraphones and I think a xylophone too, and played those often. In the middle of one song Les snuck a bit of "Southbound Pachyderm" in a different rhythm, without losing the pace of the jam; it was funny to see one drummer in the background laughing and shrugging, seeming to say "I don't know how to play this one!"

Gunner remarked after the show, "Only one song I knew, and they didn't play it." =)

It was an amazing experience. Les Claypool is a magician, and I'm glad he didn't just stick to the sea and instead decided to share his genius with all of us. Be sure to check him out next time he comes through our little province.

Thanks so much to AM for hooking me up with the tickets.

Google Earth

Google Earth is the coolest anything ever to ever anything. Ever.

Sharon & Brent Wedding of Happiness!

Just finished creating a blog & photobucket for Sharon & Brent's wedding next year, to be happening on the tiny island Inishere off the west coast of Ireland. The webpage design includes a photo I took this summer on the neighbouring island of Inishmore. Hooray for me!

Tonight? Sunfest. Hooray for London.

Backcountry camping y'all

Currently nine people (including myself) have given the thumbs-up for the date of August 4-7 (Civic Holiday / long weekend) and the location of the Kawarthas, with three more I expect to say yes, and a few others yet to respond. On to the next phase, then? Transportation. Then supplies. We'll wait a few days first.

In other news I was stopped by the po while out for a jog yesterday afternoon. The TD bank down the street was robbed by a guy whose description I fit; a landscaper thought it suspicious that I was running around in that area at that time. Lucky for me I was just on my way home...

Bridge run

10k international run today across the Bluewater Bridge (which is actually two side-by-side bridges); starting at the YMCA on the Port Huron (US) side, 4km to the bridge, 2km across, and another 4km on the Canadian side into Canatara Park.

Ran the whole thing (ie, not walking) listening to Aenima, and finished in about 53 minutes. Booya.

I'm all about camping up in here

This summer's great project: big group camping. Looks like we have between 12-21 people interested. Next two steps are, in variable order, to pick a location, and to pick a time. PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU HAVE IDEAS FOR EITHER.

Here are the few requests:
* fire allowed
* tea
* more woods than neighbours
* somewhere between ottawa and toronto

So the question I pose to you is: Operating or Non-Operating? Operating campgrounds have fire pits, picnic tables, some staff, and fees. Non-operating campgrounds are simply spots in the wilderness where people are allowed to camp; no fees, but no watertaps, latrines, etc.

Check out Ontarioparks.com (there's even a GoogleMap with clickable sites) for Operating and Non-Operating campsites in (southern, please!) Ontario; though if Non-Operating is your style, we could just pick a place to meet on the Bruce Trail...!

RSVP.

I've made a huge mistake.

"I'm sorry I took so long, but the Cheney expressway was backed up all the way to Halliburton Road."
Arrested Development is the funniest show not on television.

Pinchbeck

Looking up the word "pinchbeck" in a dictionary, you'll be met with the definition, "cheap, artificial, sham, counterfeit or imitation," in honour of the inventor of a copper alloy that resembles gold, Christopher Pinchbeck. Not really at all the same as Daniel Pinchbeck, author of Breaking Open The Head and 2012: The Return of Quetzalcoatl.


The former is right now on loan to Mr Gunner; the latter, I'm now most of the way through. If the first book (about contemporary and archaic shamanism) wasn't intriguing enough, a central theme to the second one is my birthday, or more specifically my upcoming 31st birthday.

It's honestly and chaotically written, and I sought out Mr Pinchbeck's website (www.breakingopenthehead.com) to tell him so. He responded within the hour, so cheers to that.

On a similar note I think I should start cataloguing my recent dreams / walking meditations. Something worth remembering and pondering some more, in regards to our certain insectlike nature and choosing the time for my impending death.

Sounds kinda morbid like that. All the more reason to flesh it out. More to come.

It seems that for the past few months around this time I've been compelled--and given the opportunity, too--to go for a wander; to walk and to dream. This has been an amazing way to spend afternoons (not-so-oddly near the full moon, it turns out) getting to know parts of the Forest City.
Just tucked behind one of the busiest intersections and near this house is a fieldy area with a little river running through it. Over the past two months it has become quite grown in and is getting to be hard to navigate. I keep a huge, perfect walking stick stashed in a tree and use it to try to find a way to cross the water; there's a bit of an island with a big rock that looks perfect for sitting on; just sitting, maybe thinking.
For whatever reason it's drawing me over. Unsuccessful so far but I'm more than willing to try and try again.

IMMIX 0.1

...any guesses as to theme? ;)

Hum.

It's important that you put on some eerie music, click this link, and move your mouse over the flash/image.