I Choose You - the perfect murder/suicide jam for your Halloween party!

This year’s Halloween Hit was inspired by my favorite episode of the FX show, Atlanta: “Teddy Perkins” (Season 2 Episode 6). You can stream it on FX, Amazon, iTunes, Hulu and others. Though consistent with the season’s “Robbin' season” theme, this episode (written by Donald Glover, Ibra Are and Taofik Kolade; directed by Hiro Murai) is an anomaly in that it was horror themed and aired without commercials. The episode was critically acclaimed and fairly controversial due to its bizarre antagonist and cryptic ending. 

Research

I consumed and contemplated every theory I could find online, read all published interviews and analysis (here's a fascinating scene-by-scene with the brilliant director that offered a few insights). I could find very little insight provided anywhere by any of the writers. There remains much conjecture over Teddy's identity, nearly all of which fits into one of these scenarios:

1. Teddy is Benny’s brother and caretaker/tormentor.
2. Teddy is a deranged fan/caretaker who wants to assume Benny’s identity.
3. "Teddy" is Benny and Benny's dad is in the wheelchair.
4. "Teddy" is Benny and the real Teddy, his brother, is in the wheelchair.
5. "Teddy" is Benny’s dad and Benny is in the wheelchair.
6. Teddy and Benny are the same person.

I watched the episode 13 times in total: five during my initial research, six in which I viewed through the lens of each of the various scenarios, then two more focused through the lens of scenario 6, my favorite. With each viewing my appreciation grew, as the episode seemed meticulously designed to accommodate multiple identities and thematic layers.

Writing

I chose to believe that Teddy and Benny are two sides (or "eras" might be more appropriate) of one person. I think Glover is borrowing from David Lynch's playbook here (he did at one point state that he wanted Atlanta to be "Twin Peaks with rappers"), blending literal and metaphorical imagery. They seem to represent opposing methods (or stages?) of coping with abuse and fame; one becomes a recluse and hides from the world while the other wears a mask and glorifies the abuser, perpetuating the cycle of abuse. Those two manifestations are cloistered in a soon-to-be-historical site, gnawing at each other (a situation borrowed from What Ever Happened to Baby Jane). Teddy is trying to capitalize on their pain while also silencing Benny and giving away his beloved piano. Putting them in the same room in the episode's climax is a perfect twist that both surprises and confuses the audience (and seemingly, Teddy himself).

Some observations that support this theory:

• Teddy is not visible in any of the photos or film footage.
• Teddy does not appear to have his own music career, despite claiming that their father made them both practice "3 hours a day, twice a day."
• The two are wearing nearly identical clothes and have the same James Brown helmet hair.
• Teddy claims Benny has developed a skin condition, even while he himself looks like he be bleachin.
• When Teddy confronts Darius with the shotgun, there is a very intentional shot of Teddy's profile silhouetted opposite the young Benny.
• Teddy aiming the gun at Darius: “I want it to look real… The home invasion. You killed Benny because you were obsessed.” Darius: “There is no fucking Benny, all right?” Teddy: "Exactly! Exactly!"

Once I determined how I wanted to portray the protagonist(s), I identified the themes I wanted to incorporate:

• Some fathers sacrifice their children 
• Great things come from great pain 
• The whitewashing of a painful heritage
• Perpetuating the cycle of abuse 
• Our culture forgives and ignores abuse that results in great art 
• Our culture criticizes and ridicules celebrities that fall from grace
• The trauma and aftermath of celebrity

I also made a list of the musical elements that might comprise something Teddy/Benny would create:

• The jazz piano of Ahmad Jamal
• The ragtime melodies and passing tones of Scott Joplin
• The childlike soulful vocals of Michael Jackson
• The 70's and 80s synths of Stevie Wonder
• The rhythm and bass syncopation of James Brown

Iterations

Over two weeks I made four iterations; each new sketch was more somber and downtempo than the last, and contained less and less of the musical elements I'd planned for. I was about halfway done with a version that I quite liked when I abandoned it for the final version. Musically I liked it but lyrically it wasn't working for me; it read like a monologue by Teddy, revering his father and hinting at abuse. The more I thought about the duality I wanted to depict, the more I wanted the song to feature two perspectives at war over one body and one version of its history. The final version used fairly minimal instrumentation and featured two mutations of my voice trading verses (mid-range register for Benny and disconcerting falsetto for Teddy) and eventually harmonizing. I intended the "conversation" of this song to take place before Teddy decides to silence Benny by giving away his piano.
Here are some snippets of those unused iterations:

• Iteration 1 - combining a chop of Ahmad Jamal's "Piano Solo 11" (heard playing from Benny's room in the episode) with some James Brown rhythm.
  
• Iteration 2 - combining a chop of only the passing tones in Scott Joplin's "Solace" (played by Benny in the old footage scene) with a slowed down James Brown rhythm.
  
• Iteration 3 - combining a Curtis Mayfield/Marvin Gaye vocal approach with some Motown elements, a 6/8 shuffle often employed by Stevie Wonder and James Brown, and (eventually) a modern-ish hook with Stevie synths.
  

Production

I tried a few things on this production that I'd never attempted:

• I recorded the instruments tuned to 432hz (rumored to have been used by Prince, Jimi Hendrix, Bob Marley, and others) because there's a mysticism surrounding that tuning that I could see Teddy buying into, and also I wanted to see if listening to it affected my brain state. I don't know if it did but I did find it slightly easier to sing in key, which made me wonder if my voice has some sort of natural tuning that I've been unwittingly raging against my whole life.
• I recorded the vocals at different speeds and pitches so they would sound a bit odd once played at normal speed—Teddy's vocal (the falsetto) to a version of the instrumental that was pitched/slowed down about 6 bpm, and Benny's vocal to a version sped/pitched up by 6 bpm. To make things weirder (and considerably harder to sing in tune), I automated a gradual 6 bpm tempo/pitch shift for each (in opposite directions) throughout the last verse so that the vocals, played back at normal speed, would evolve back into my natural timbre . 
• I automated the panning of the vocals to start pretty far apart and end up centered when the last word is sung.
• I used a very cool Roland Space Echo simulator by Audiothing to make the Maestro Rhythm King drum machine sound more Phil Collins.
• I used a very cool Vintage Reverb plugin by Valhalla (and some research on gearslutz.com) to model a reverb often heard on old Marvin Gaye records. 
• I used a free Vinyl simulation plugin from Izotope to add some grit and warble to the final mix, as well as the pitch dive at the end.

The mix most likely suffered a bit due to the last-minute nature of the whole thing—I wrote, recorded and produced the song inside of 48 hours. If all goes according to plan, I'll be a bit bummed on it when I listen back next halloween.

Lyrics

Benny: I keep my piano in the bedroom
so I can sleep that close to freedom, still
sometimes I chew my fingers more than I should
til they bleed.
Father always said to keep my color off the keys.

Teddy: I show my trophies in the gift shop
and pose my father in the billiard room.
I want the house to be a tribute to him—
a museum.
And though some may try,
my father’s love can never die.

Benny: Of all the vampires, kings and thieves
dropping by to harvest me,
none shall pay a higher price
than he who shares my bed at night.

Benny and Teddy (equal): I choose you
I choose you
I choose you to carry his pride
I choose you
I choose you
I choose you to be his sacrifice

Benny and Teddy (dominant): I keep my Hope locked in the basement—
can’t let the dark get out
or the light get in.
I find that hope is not so good for my skin,
or my throat.
I don’t know what it is...
I guess it’s just the way that I cope.

Benny (dominant) and Teddy: I'll get the shotgun from the attic
and leave our body on the lobby floor.
Then when she finds us, Sam will clean up the mess,
drive out east
—somewhere meaningless—
to bury father’s masterpiece.

Grady - the perfect murder/suicide jam for your Halloween party!

I've always been impressed with Tom Stoppard's play Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (and its hilarious and brilliant movie adaptation), in which he appropriates two of the minor comic relief characters from Hamlet and writes for them a narrative that compliments and augments Shakespeare's original play. It's an ambitious thing to do in that it requires extremely extensive knowledge of the source material and author's voice. I decided to try something similar with the small supporting character "Delbert Grady" from Stephen King's book The Shining. I've always loved the Kubrick movie and the book, both of which were genuinely scary experiences for me. This turned out to be a much bigger undertaking than I'd first assumed. For starters, there are some pretty big inconsistencies between Kubrick's screenplay and King's book, many of which relate to Grady. And to make matters more complicated, King wrote and executive produced his own TV version of The Shining (one of the worst productions I've ever seen... and I had to watch it twice), which itself differed from the book in a few ways. On top of that, there is a never-really-published-but-available-on-the-internet prologue to The Shining called "Before the Play" by King (which is rumored to be turned into a film soon) as well as an epilogue called "After the Play" that is said to have been lost forever. King also wrote a sequel to The Shining called Doctor Sleep, that was recently published. I absorbed those sources then spent a few weeks binging on the wide variety of interesting theories, interviews, and documentaries about the Kubrick movie.

The challenge of writing this piece was reconciling all those conflicting sources while remaining consistent with everything King ever wrote about Grady and the Overlook. My interpretation of Grady's history is an amalgamation of all the sources, with a few holes I took the liberty of filling in... my humble effort to contribute to the folklore of my favorite horror story of all time.

Most of the music is collaged from pieces of the original score, as well as many other favorite horror movie soundtracks and television shows.

Grady

I don’t need it 

don’t want it

but the whiskey keeps me haunted

it keeps calling me 

calling me

and I can’t lose it

can’t hide it

it rattles down inside me 

it keeps calling me 

calling me 

I was dropped on the earth in The Year of the Snake

my ma was a nurse and my pa was a fake

he said it was the cold but she knew it was the shakes,

I guess he couldn’t hold what he couldn’t escape

I dropped out of high school in the tenth grade

was gonna kill japs for the U.S. Navy

picture me: “Lieutenant Delbert Grady”

they wouldn’t let me in because my hands were shaky

     

I started working any job that’d pay me

I started going with this proper lady

She had me cleaning up the church grounds daily

Hoping she could dry me out to make a baby

We lost our first in the Year of the Rat

I lost my shirt when Maz took bat

I cracked the egg and the yolk came red

if you can’t break through you gonna break your head

I don’t need it 

don’t want it

but the whiskey keeps me haunted

it keeps calling me 

calling me

and I can’t lose it

can’t hide it

it rattles down inside me 

it keeps calling me 

calling me 

We sold what’s left and moved to Estes Park

laid to rest the thing I did, the darkness

I worked hard to make a brand new start

kept close to the trailer park, far from the bar

In the Year of the Tiger, Louise was born

I was pulling double shifts at the Dry Goods Store

was clean as whistle but still dirt poor,

was good with one kid but she wanted one more

When Louise was two, Lisa was due

she lit the whole room like the hole in our roof 

my ma flew out for the big debut

she stayed in the Park ’til she died of the flu.

I stopped at the Dark Horse after the wake

when I came home at three Betty smelled the mistake

I awoke in a cell with my head full of ache

and remained in a fog ’til the Year of the Dog.

I don’t need it 

don’t want it

but the whiskey keeps me haunted

it keeps calling me 

calling me

and I can’t lose it

can’t hide it

it rattles down inside me 

it keeps calling me 

calling me 

When I hit rock bottom at last

I was saved from the grave by a broken gasket

pickin’ up trash on Route 34 

I came upon a man in a broken down Ford

I knew just what to do cause I’d seen it before

I used my canteen to fill his radiator

I brought him into town to look it over with Mel 

who told us it would take a few days to get the part

I drove him up the pass to the Overlook Hotel

where repairs were being done before the winter got started

Oh what luck for your friend, D. Grady

The man, so relieved, was inclined to repay me

He noticed I was living in the back of my Studebaker,

offerred me a job as the wintertime caretaker. 

hustled into town to tell Betty and the girls

she wouldn’t let me in, she wouldn’t have it any more

I swore that it was true, I promised her the world

and I knew there was a chance ‘cause she listened through the door

please baby baby please baby baby please ergrgggghhh

things got better before they got worse

I was made for this place like a corpse for a hearse

I turned down the boiler each night like clockwork

I cleaned every station, from tool shed to desk clerk

Seemed like we were finally home

with some fresh mountain air to breath life into bone 

and nothing but time, no TV or phone,

should’a known that the wife couldn’t leave it alone

she started real subtle, just little observations

wondering why we didn’t get the best accommodations

wondering if I should’ve asked for better compensation

perhaps that Mr. Ulmann guy had known my reputation?

the storm rolled in, my wits wore thin

with the girls indoors, there was double the din  

and Betty doing nothing ‘bout the trouble they’re in

always trying to get one over on me, dressing like twins and…

one night they took the joke too far

Betty found a whiskey bottle underneath the bar

and next to it a half smoked Bayuk cigar

she threw them in my face, left a 4-inch 

and I couldn’t get my mind right after that night

I started seeing voices, I started hearing lights

I dreamt I was a minataur running through the maze

I woke up on the second floor, banging on a door

I don’t need it 

don’t want it

but the whiskey keeps me haunted

it keeps calling me 

calling me

and I can’t lose it

can’t hide it

it rattles down inside me 

it keeps calling me 

calling me 

before long I was sleeping in the lounge

Betty said it wasn’t safe to keep a gun around

I startled her awake one night ripping at her gown  

and the girls were hearing whispering and radio sounds

One night by the fire, while she taught me to read,

Louise stopped my lesson to tell me, “we should leave”

“I want you to like it here,” I tried to reset her, 

“I wish that we could stay here forever and ever…”

she wandered upstairs as I chopped up the kindling

stopped mid swing when the front desk phone rang

those lines have been down for at least two months, 

but here was this call from a Bob T. Watson

“Grady, do you know what your daughters intend?

Did you happen to wonder where your matches have been?

The Management feels that they lack discipline!

Perhaps you’re not so… adept at correction?”

The next thing I remember is Betty’s screaming

I opened my eyes to see my girls hacked to pieces

Before I could react the wall exploded to my right

She glared down the barrel while she put me in the site

I crawled around the corner as she tore down the hall

I slid on the blood and a chair broke my fall

when she bore down on me with the shotgun raised

every clock in the Overlook rang out its praise!

She startled and dropped the gun within my reach

I snatched it up and fired it into her teeth

and then it was done, my duties complete,

the silence was torn by the voice of Bob T:

“Grady, I must say I’m rather impressed

you’ve proven yourself to work well under stress

but before we can offer you the year-round employment

you’ll have to get downstairs and shut off the boiler.”

iI was hell getting down there with one mangled leg

but I’m a hard working man, ya that’s what the man said,

and with all of those bodies stacked safely in their beds

I swallowed both barrels and I opened my head.

Epilogue

“Colorado Lounge,” the lift boy called out

“Congratulations on the new job, sir!” he shouted

a big chested bald man wrangled my arm

and spoke with a hint of that old southern charm 

“Everyone is waitin’! Come come, Mr. Grady!

The Manager’s been very pleased with you lately

Outside the Gold Room I read the big sash:

“The Overlook Welcomes the Gradys at Last.”

He handed me a bottle and he called to the crowd, 

“Should we make him the bartender? What do you think?”

I froze for a moment, and I looked out at Betty,

her smile was as dead as my urge to drink.

It was the Worst of Times, It Was the Worst of Times.

Available now at gavincastleton.bandcamp.com

This is a collection of fairly despondent songs with bare-bone instrumentation. I was #blessed to have the help of friends like Brian Cass, Kyleen King, and Courtney Marie Andrews accompany me on this one. The title, "It Was the Worst of Times, It Was the Worst of Times" is probably the only comical thing about it. 60% of this EP was written in July of 2011, in the days directly following the death of my 15-year old furry son, Lumas. Those three songs came quickly and easily (though I hesitate to describe a process so gut-wrenching as "easy"), but I immediately archived them... I didn't feel like I had the distance or stomach necessary to polish and productize them. I made a video for Expensive Love, and played Watering the Soil once at a show in San Francisco, but ultimately I wasn't ready to do right by them... until now. Underestimate Me arrived a few years later, after a healthy dose of rejection. The ease with which all four were written underscores what is surely the universe's bitterest joke: heartbreak is the best creative lubricant.

Team Love was the holdout; I'd never before had to be so patient with a song. The original demo was very different than the version you hear on this EP. It was a bitter fragment about how everyone in my generation seems to be growing out of friendships and into marriage and/or parenthood, with a tempo and arrangement more akin to Gary Jules' cover of Mad World than the upbeat piano doo-wop it became. But I was starting to turn a corner on a long bout of depression and I wanted the last song on the record to lead me out, rather than keep me there. I'd never before taken a sad song and inverted it, so I set about trying to do so.

"What if love is not, in fact, a noun... what if it is only a verb?"

This was the question that popped into my head and inspired me to write a holistic (in both the medical and the philosophical sense) song that would help me challenge and articulate my understanding --- or misunderstanding --- of love. Stephen R.  Covey had a similar thought in his 7 Habits of Highly Effective People program, “Love is a verb. Love – the feeling – is the fruit of love the verb or our loving actions.” But I was inspired to look closer at the cost of employing the noun form of "love" by this fascinating TED talk by behavioral economist Keith Chen (and related TED Radio Hour Podcast episode, "The Money Paradox") on the economic implications of a concept known as "linguistic relativity" (the sordid history of which is recounted here). His research shows that people whose native languages lack future tense conjugations don't invest as much in savings as those whose native languages do have future tenses. I hypothesized that our culture's constant use of "love" as a noun, to be quantified, given and received, may have some adverse effects on our relationships.

Lyrical progress on Team Love was glacially slow - for over a month I averaged only a few words a day, resisting the tendency to use "love" in anything but verb form. Aside from a few hours each day dedicated to alternate revenue streams, most of my time was spent devouring every published thought I could find about the psychology of love, from the horrible Buzzfeed-style list "articles" ("10 Amazing Things About Love That You'll Never Believe He's Thinking And Are Impossibly Horrifying") to opinionated interviews on podcasts like Savage Lovecast and Death, Sex, & Money. From statistical sources like the OKCupid blog and various TED Talks to the motivational prose of pop psychology books by the likes of Brené Brown and Gary Chapman. I kept a running list of any revelations or arising questions about love and my relationship with it, and ordered it in a way that best illustrated the linear and sometimes long-jumping path of my thought process. Then I began to write lyrical blocks that illustrated each precept.

About five weeks after I began writing it, I was the exhausted owner of a relentless and cerebral song without hooks or a conventional structure. The irony is thick: I think that this song's lyrics are my most useful and thought-provoking to date, but I've delivered them in such a torrential manner that I fear few listeners will have the tolerance or perseverance required to unpack and examine them. But if anyone can handle a slow digestion process, my listeners can. I hope it becomes one of those songs that keeps giving with each repeat listen.

If you've already purchased It Was the Worst of Times, It Was the Worst of Times, then I want to thank you for trusting me with your money and time and helping me afford rent and dog food. If you haven't, I could sure use your support.

---

A few weeks back I published a cover of a song called "The Middle," by Portland folk artist Jeffrey Martin. I'd caught him playing at the Sisters Folk Festival and was floored by the authenticity of his voice and songs. I bought his CD, Dogs in the Daylight, and quickly developed an obsession with this song. Its message of moderation and compromise really resonated with me. In my arrangement, I organized the instrumentation into three camps: organic/analog instruments, synthetic/electronic instruments, and voice. Throughout the verses of the song, the different groups stay panned to opposite left and right channels, polarized. As the sequence progresses towards the chorus, they work their way to the center of the stereo field, reorganizing and optimizing themselves into an integrated stereo mix with more middle channel focus.

Free stream & download: gavincastleton.bandcamp.com/track/the-middle-jeffrey-martin-cover

Doom performed live at Overclock Inc.

I've finished editing the second video from our Overclock Inc. Studios shoot last May. It's a song called "Doom" from my new album, #blessed (available as a free download here):



 Here's a little tutorial I made to walk you through the vocal fx programming if you're interested:

 

Average Man performed live at Overclock Inc.

This past May I toured New England with a live band I've been working with for a few years now. I've never really done a proper live shoot with them, so I'm excited to finally put out some footage from a day-long session we did at the Overclock Inc studio. We recorded seven songs from my catalog; this one is from my new album #blessed. Since the song features some fancy vocal effects, I made a little tutorial to walk through it all - for you gear heads out there. Enjoy!

Average Man

Now when I was a young boy,
‘bout the age of five
my teachers told me
I could be the greatest man alive

they told me I could change the world

be whatever I wanted to be

there was no one in the world like me

every one of us was so unique

I’d not be an average man

no sir, I’d be no average man  

so I had those big dreams

and I had those big skills

had a reason to live

and I had some time to kill

but the world got louder still

yeah the world got louder still

it tried to drown me out

it tried to break down my will

“Get out my way, I ain’t no average man”

I was thinking so much bigger than the average man 

they flood my feed with all these useless lists

while I was curing cancer with these nonstop hits

so I was bitter towards the average man

then I hit my thirties like a bird against a window

I couldn’t reconcile the two disparate versions of me:

on the one hand was this man in search of comfort

and on the other was this meta-superhero I could be 

maybe my eyes were never big

maybe my head was small

the man who knows his place

may be the greatest man of all 

I found freedom in obscurity

and purity in poverty

why try to be amazing in a world so saturated with amazingness? 

it’s blazing us

exhausting me, 

I wonder what it’s costed me,

the price I’ve paid for baby boomers 

propping up my self-esteem,

I should let go of all these scripted, movie-lifted dreams

and seek solace in my species 

as an average man

I’ll pay admission like an average man

I’ll raise a family like an average man

I’ll rock the hairline of an average man

I’ll binge on Netflix like an average man

I drop a remix like an average man

I crowd-source it like an average man

I’m hyperbolic like an average man

I only iterate like an

Doom

They say depression is a weight that pulls you down
but to be honest I've not found that to be true
it grabs me by the lungs, it tries to lift me off this planet
chewing up the final threads that connect me to you

and I've been running out of things to keep me grounded
I'm having trouble finding love that makes me stick
with every song I try to run it down  
before it runs me through
everybody's talking ‘bout progress
but all I see is
         
Doom
it follows me around
it drips into my shoes
I feel like I'm the only one who sees the future as a noose
I got them future blues, Satan

If you don’t know what I’m going through
I can try to spell it out for you:

Sometimes the sinking starts just thinking ‘bout my cel phone
I wonder how I have so many friends but feel alone
I notice how I feel so weightless when it’s left at home
and how I fill up every space with content that doesn’t leave me content

I start to spiral down through thoughts of population boom
perhaps the cancer starts the second that we leave the womb
it seems the more we’re extricated from the food chain,
the more creative time we have
but the less we have to say
it’s all

Doom
it follows me around
it drips into my shoes
I feel like I'm the only one who sees the future as a noose
I got them future blues

I understand it now
how a man finds himself on a water tower
raining down helter skelter
sell the whole house for the underground shelter
feel the storm comin
I can’t stand still enough to
stop my mind running
I see it play out
this song is a bread crumb, a toast to the empire
enjoy the smell of meat while my feet in the fire
I know I’m not preaching to the choir
whatever

I know you’d rather dance than understand the wiring
truth is overrated, reality is tiresome
cling to the twos and the fours
dance like I’m talking about how young we are
sounding like Fun.-loving folklore
ignore what I’m saying while I desecrate the #blessed dance floor
hard to articulate the great white fate
the end coming nearer
the writing on the mirror
says

Doom
it follows me around
it drips into my shoes
I feel like I'm the only one who sees the future as a noose
I got them future blues

[repeat ad nauseam]

Liquid Truth

Don't you wonder how you got stuck in this loop -
working for the paycheck that you use to buy the suit
you say, "Well, I just got paid and my money's all gone…
fuck the rent, tonight I'm buying liquid truth"
Heyeyey

Don't you wanna go back to life before the job?
Yeah, you were broke but at least you weren't choking on the fog
and the older I get, the less I remember the plan
It's easy to lose track of time when you're putting in time for the man

Don't you wonder how you got stuck in this loop -
working for the paycheck that you use to buy the suit
you say, "Well, I just got paid and my money's all gone…
fuck the rent, tonight I'm buying liquid truth"
Heyeyey

Don't you find yourself taking work home… to the bar
and don't you ask yourself, “How the fuck I get home with no car?”
and don't tell her your musician, just because you're looking to score.
And you look deep in the drink and speak the truth, "Yo, bottle: I shoulda spilled my life on the keyboard like dadadadaaaaa…”

Don't you wonder how you got stuck in this loop -
working for the paycheck that you use to buy the suit
you say, "Well, I just got paid and my money's all gone…
fuck the rent, tonight I'm buying liquid truth"
Heyeyey

you gotta get up
you gotta get up
you gotta get up
you gotta get up

Don’t you ever ask yourself, "Did I take this job or did this job take me?"
Don’t you ever ask yourself, "Did I take this job or did this job take me?"
Don't you ever answer, "I'm a piece of shit”

Don't you wonder how you got stuck in this loop -
working for the paycheck that you use to buy the suit
you say, "Well, I just got paid and my money's all gone…
fuck the rent, tonight I'm buying liquid truth" Heyeyey

[repeat ad nauseam]

FREE DOWNLOAD for the Loverrrrrrrrs

Here is a cover Lex Land and I  recorded a few years back. Download it for free:

Free Download - Holiday Hit Song "Tangerines"

It's that time of year when I suddenly get gooey-eyed thinking about how a bunch of people I don't even know support me and help me do what makes me happy. Here is a free hit song I offer as "thanks" to you - it's guaranteed to cheer you up this holiday season:



Lyrics:
We gather at my sister's house on Christmas Eve
I tip toe through the snowflakes shaped like nephews and nieces
and I wish I had my son with me, but he died last year
It's only he knows what I went through just to still be here

and everything has changed
the only thing constant is

Tangerines
in my stocking again
Tangerines
something I can depend on

And the older I get, the more I miss the pulse of an old religion
as it becomes harder and harder for me to identify my breadcrumbs,
and I start to see the value of traditions like

Tangerines
like my mother used to give us
Tangerines
like my sister has continued
Tangerines
a fruit that bookends my years
Tangerines
they come as steady as the tears

And I used to brush off this stuff
when Lu was just a pup
but now I know

if you anchor yourself to the biggest things
they will pull you down when they start to sink
when drifting off to sea it's best to cling to simple things like

Tangerines
in my stocking again
Tangerines
one thing I can depend on

Tangerines
like my mother used to give us
Tangerines
like my sister has continued...

Hannah Boo - 5th installment of the Kickstarter Campaign Collaboration Reward

Here is the 5th collaboration from my Won Over Frequency Kickstarter campaign in which a Backer provides me with lyrics which I then turn into a hit song.  The inspiration for this track was provided by Maya Peart, who gracefully recounted the life and final days of her beloved pure bred Bullmastiff, Hannah. 

Regarding the music: 

I don't know why I return to hymnal harmony when trying to communicate pain, but I do. That being said, I purposefully kept it from following any expected direction, so as to simulate the sea-legs of profound loss. To represent that hourly oscillation between numbness and hysterics, I used a man vs. machine theme throughout the production: authentic snare and ride cymbal paired with electronic kick drum; synth strings and rhodes with acoustic guitar and electric bass; unfettered lead vocal with robotic vocoded harmonies. 

Regarding the lyrics:

It is a heavy thing, paying homage to someone this special. It is a heavier thing still to take on the voice of the grieving. If I weren't still knee-deep in my own grieving over Lumas, I'd venture to say that this sort of emotional co-opting is downright morally reprehensible. But lucky for me, Hannah's parents are dear friends of mine and myLumas, and were wonderful enough to trust me with something this sensitive. I really struggled to marry the subjective snapshots laid out in the verses with the objective rhetorical questions posed in the choruses. I know that the specifics of Hannah's death are not entirely clear to a listener who did not know her, and I grappled with whether or not to remedy that. In the end, I felt that vacillating between the details of injustice and a desperate lunge at gaining a larger context turns out to be a pretty accurate depiction of what coping with a loss of this magnitude looks like. So the song remains a dichotomy, optimized for her parents.

Hannah Boo

Well I suppose you were the silent type

but oh oh oh dear, you made a riot out of my tiny life

and nosed your way into every space

the anti-graceful, full of grace

you stoic bulldozer

why did you leave me with this mess?

And why do the biggest hearts break easiest?

Why do the smallest hearts survive?

Is it that love defies naturally selection

or that the big hearts keep the small hearts alive?

The way it went down was so hard to take

we'd been through hell and back but things felt ok

when the call came through we were both far away

Darling Hannah Boo, we never abandoned you!

I tried to be still but I'm not built that way

I couldn't take control or make the call - I had no say

Now I can't fill your space

I can dwell on the best, forget the rest but

why do the biggest hearts break easiest?

Why do the smallest hearts survive?

Is it that love defies naturally selection

or that the big hearts keep the small hearts thrive?

Maybe I'm wrong,

maybe I'm right

maybe my small heart tripled in size

just knowin' you,

just lovin' you,

myHannah Boo...

A Turning Point

As some of you may know, a year and a half ago I stopped touring to work a full-time job in order to get out of steepening debt and to finally afford the gear that I need to reduce costs on future projects. Thanks to an artist endorsement with the kind folks at Auralex Acoustics, I've finally completed my tracking room, mixing room, and vocal booth. I also recorded a quick Before and After comparison of drums, rhodes, and out-of-tune piano. Note: these drums are not close-mic'ed; I set up two Shure KSM 137 condensor mics (set on "omni") in the middle of the room, about 5 feet away from all 3 instruments. I made sure they were in exactly the same place for the before and after recording.

Now I just have to learn how to play music. 

Tracking Room - before

Tracking Room - after

Mixing Room and Vocal Booth

Close Your Eyes - 4th installment of the Kickstarter Campaign Collaboration Reward

Here is the 4th collaboration from my Won Over Frequency Kickstarter campaign in which a Backer provides me with lyrics and I turn them into a hit song.  The original lyrics for this track were provided by Bryce Carter with contributions by his friend Todd. "The song was inspired by ideal summer moments, simplicity, space, and Carl Sagan."

Regarding the music: 
Since nostalgia seemed to be our most prominent theme, I opted to revisit the 50's aesthetic and arrangement-motifs of my hit song Coffeelocks. I'd worked out a few drafts in very different directions (most of them more downtempo and simpler instrumentation), but none clicked very well for me until I started down the doo-wop road. I used this recording as an opportunity to premier several new toys: my new M3 Hammond Organ / Leslie 45 (captured with a lovely pair of 421s ---- thanks Michael @ Sennheiser!!!), my theramin, my signature series Jay Turser electric bass ($65 value), and a beautiful pair of Cascade Fathead II-sp ribbon mics (thanks Rob @ Parson's Audio!!!). It's amazing how much less work one must do in the mixing phase when one simply utilizes the proper gear.


Regarding the lyrics:
Bryce sent me some lyrics back in mid December, and it took me several months to set aside the proper time needed to carve them into a workable structure. Once I got in there, it was quite a challenge to rework the cadences while maintaining the imagery. One of the more subtle but crucial alterations I made to the narrative was to make it past tense, which better suits the idyllic summer retrospective. I've interspersed my final lyrics (in italics) with Bryce's original lyrics so you can see the adaptation.

Close Your Eyes (Sweet Love)
Step into the lake on a warm summer night

We walked to the lake on that warm summer night

You laugh and tell me not to splash

You were laughing, you were begging me not to splash

The water is calm, we walk palm to palm

And the water was calm, I was pulling your arms

And hop in the rowboat to relive summer past

into the boat, as I'd done so many times in the past 

(Close your eyes, sweet love...)

Close your eyes, close your eyes, sweet love

We paddle past the dock and the shore waves goodbye

Out past the dock, where the shore disappears

The stars light our way from the sky

and the sun's closing eye was just a dent in the sky

The sun's not awake, he's done for the day

I was worn like a gown but could not settle down

But you're wide awake, the night sky in your eyes

I's as lit as the stars in your eyes

(...they swim above us.)

omitted

Worry settles to the bottom while we float on the top

Our troubles had tumbled to the floor of the lake

We lay down to look up above

as we lay on our backs in the craft up above

The stars are painting scenes that only we see

if the stars carved a scene from the space in-between

On a canvas of sky with a paintbrush of love

then the night was a canvas, and the paintbrush was love

(She told everyone what she saw...)

Close your eyes, close your eyes, sweet love

set adrift as the stars swim above us

It's time to head back but we circle around

We made to head back but were all turned around

Sometimes the stars beg you to stay

like the stars, in there way, still had much more to say

But you must listen close if you're to hear what they spoke

So we listened real close as to hear what they spoke

The stars are in us, we are they

but the stars were in us, or perhaps we in they

(...a candle from space)

Close your eyes, close your eyes, sweet love...

Expensive Love - live in my pajamas

Here's a new video I shot while experimenting with my new TC-Helicon VoiceLive Play vocal harmonizer/effects processor:

Expensive Love
There's a drip in the tub that I just can't fix
and I can't find a rug to cover up the skidmarks from where your feet kept losing ground.
You were carving up a tomb from the home I found.
And I could afford the surgery,
and I could absorb the cost of drugs,
but I just needed some sort of guarantee that you'd see me through.

Dear Lu,
loving you is so expensive
loving you is so expensive, darling
loving you is so expensive, baby
I knew you had to go but didn't know it'd be so costly

You got a little bit sicker when you came on tour,
but still you stood right by my until your legs were sore,
and it was hard to leave you out in the van some nights.
Sometimes you gotta do wrong to make a longterm right.

But then you got much worse when I took the job;
I had to leave work late and get up at ungodly hours to get out of all the debts I owed.
Maybe you couldn't see the man for the brand new clothes,
but everything else was much improved:
We ate our weight in brand name foods.
I became the father you never knew

But it was too late

Dear Lu,
loving you is so expensive
loving you is so expensive, darling
loving you is so expensive, Lumey
I knew you had to go but didn't know it'd be so costly


loving you is so expensive, baby
loving you is so expensive, darling
loving you is so expensive, Lumey
I knew you had to go but didn't know how much it'd cost me

Nu Shooz cover "I Can't Wait"

Two weeks ago I was asked to cover "I Can't Wait" by Portland band Nu Shooz (now known as the "Nu Shooz Orchestra") for PDX Pop Now and the Oregon Historical Society's "Let It Rain!" compilation, which features Oregon-based artists from the present covering songs by Oregon-based bands of the past.

Here's my version:


Here's the original:



Here are some fun facts:

• The life cycle of "I Can't Wait" by Nu Shooz is an interesting one; the version that brought the band international acclaim was not that featured on their March 1985 release, Tha's Right, but a none-too-altered remix by Dutch producer Peter Slaghuis. Portland radio station KKRZ immediately embraced and spun the original version and Portland listeners drove it up the local charts, but it failed to garner much love elsewhere until Slaghuis "Long Vocal Dutch Mix" was released on Injection Records at the end of 1985, and still didn't really land on American audiences until a full year after the original version was released, when the remix was included on their Atlantic release, Poolside, at which point it rose to #3 on the billboard charts.
• In addition to the original "American" version and several existing remixes, Nu Shooz released two more versions of the song in 2006 on an "Unplugged" EP.  For my cover, I took the ideas from each version that were the most appealing to me and put my stamp on them. To accentuate the theme of anticipation, I accelerated the tempo gradually over the span of the entire song. To suggest patience in the face of anticipation, the rhythms of each of the song's main elements are slowly assigned to increasingly longer subdivisions, giving them a decelerating effect, so that the end of the song is almost a shuffle.
• This is the first recording of my newly purchased 1976 suitcase Rhodes
• This is the first mix from my new home studio
• This track features Sky Cooper on guitar
• This track was mastered by Gus Elg at Sky Onion Studio
• This is the first time I've successfully sampled Robocop

Diamonds

Once I got this fancy job

I can't lie, I got fat

Once you get a backyard to maintain

it gets hard to go back

I try to pull the pain from the most mundane of places

but it all feels weak:

a wrinkle on my face

a cold sore in the cheek

but if you stack the world on my back,

if you squeeze the eyes from my head

I'll still make those diamonds, diamonds, diamonds

diamonds 'til I'm dead

Call it what you will:

a changing of the tune

a pepper in the mill

a salting of the wound

so now it takes a week to write a song about writer's block

and all I do is watch the clock

but if you take the soup from my bowl,

ya, if you take the love from my bed, 

if you take the hope from my soul

well I'll still give you diamonds, diamonds, 

diamonds 'til I'm dead

diamonds 'til I'm dead 

I still make those diamonds, diamonds, diamonds 

diamonds 'til I'm dead

[blazing solo]

Is it wrong that there's nothing wrong?

Without conflict is it still a song?

Should I take the money and stand still?

Should I trade the wind for the trees? 

Or can I bear the weight with my will?

Can I break the world on my knees?

all for  those diamonds, diamonds, diamonds,

diamonds 'til I'm dead

I still make those diamonds, diamonds, diamonds,

diamonds 'til I'm dead

I make those diamonds, diamonds, diamonds,

diamonds 'til I'm dead

Still make those diamonds, diamonds, diamonds 

diamonds 'til I'm dead

Since 1968 (Overclock Orchestra remix) lyrics

Since 1968

I'm a four-legged zombie on a two-step dance floor
I'd double down your money, honey, if you know what's good for... you.

Vampire won't go far
sucking the life out of the party
and Werewolf has no chance
cause Mr. Werewolf has no pants

Since 1968 I've been the number one champ at the monster Dance Party
Since 1968 I've been the number one champ at the monster Dance Party
Since 1968 I've been the number one champ at the monster Dance Party
Since 1968 I've been the number one champ at the Monster Dance Partay

lurch left
neck spasm
dead stare
right at 'em
drag leg
nash teeth
on flesh
we feed

I can never lose
while I wear four shoes

I'm the undead quadruped - I could paint the town blood
ready, set, better step back or you could lose your
headstart you need it, clumsy mummy pokes you in the
I could cut a rug until it's bleeding through the ceiling

Since 1968 I've been the number one champ at the monster Dance Party
Since 1968 I've been the number one champ at the monster Dance Party
Since 1968 I've been the number one champ at the monster Dance Party
Since 1968 I've been the number one champ at the Monster Dance Partay

Bombs overhead, put your face on, ladies,
they'll take you home tonight.
Bombs overhead, paint your face by number,
they'll never run away.
We got a wallet here, anyone lose a wallet?

Mutemath remix

Here is my entry into the remix contest for the single "Odd Soul" from MUTEMATH's upcoming full-length. It is made in Ableton Live using only the source tracks they provided:

 MUTEMATH - Odd Soul (Odderpop Remix) by gavincastleton


Here is the original:


Wish me luck!

PS. You can listen to the competition here: http://soundcloud.com/groups/odd-soul-remixes

to my son.

Here are scraps of songs that don't want to come out:

Frank Ocean / Portishead cover/mashup/remix

This is a cover of Frank Ocean's "Swim Good" from his Nostalgia, Ultra album:


Here's the original: 



 I've reassembled it with pieces from my favorite Portishead song, "Roads." It also contains samples from Lee Oskar's "Our Road" and Ananda Shankar's "The Ocean." 

There are a limited 100 downloads available at facebook.com/gavincastletonmusic