Sessions Snowland and SSII
Sessions Snowland is an audiovisual project based on snow, cold and winter. The footage for Sessions Snowland II was shot entirely in Kalamazoo County, Michigan, with every aspect - from acting to soundtrack to videography - covered by C. Charles Bley and Plant People.
The soundtrack for the auxiliary video Antarctic Defense Headquarters was created in the same way as SSII, except for one difference: the footage itself comes from Antarctic research station surveillance cameras.
Finally, the 6-song soundtrack EP contains the extended score from both videos.
The original 2010 Sessions Snowland video was shot on location near Paw Paw, Michigan. As with the sequel, it was created entirely by Bley and Plant People.
Affectionately known as Pie 4 The Haus, this is the final cut of our 2010 winter improv sessions for Sessions Snowland, containing multiple movements. Unlike the sequel, this soundtrack only shares one small portion (the violin segment) in common with its partner video, and also includes Tim Tackett Hi Fi on guitars.
Suites, MDMZ and Deconstruction
An electronic and analog performance. Sonic stories following civilization's tipping point.
Suite I: Uzi Café 1. Toppie's Espresso - 3:10 2. Uzi Café feat. Alexandria Cummings - 4:03 3. Meha & ChouChou - 3:54 Suite II: Peninsula 2116 4. Fanboat & Tank feat. Sarah DeKett - 13:43 5. Celosia Descendant - 4:17 6. Opinyon feat. Sarah DeKett - 8:15 III. Special Suite 7. Moon Symbol / BNKRPT2 feat. Tim Tackett Hi Fi - 3:43 8. Wobbie / BNKRPT feat. Tim Tackett Hi Fi - 4:22 9. &U feat. Tim Tackett Hi Fi - 6:05 10. Rica Mal feat. Tim Tackett Hi Fi - 6:10 11. NU feat. Tim Tackett Hi Fi - 4:18 Suite I recorded March 19 - 23, 2010. Remastered August 25, 2010. Suite II recorded and mastered August 24 - 26, 2010. Special Suite recorded July 9, 2010. Mastered July 12, 2010. Hidden track recorded July 12, 2010. Entire project created and executed at various locations within Kalamazoo County, Michigan, U.S.A. Vinyl sample on track 2 from "Mannix Theme" on the album "Sophisticated Funk" by Jack McDuff (used without permission). Explosion on track 5 from SoundBible.com (Sampling Plus 1.0 license). All other samples original. Background sample on track 5 from the song "Celosia" on the album "Michigan" by Tessa Rochon & Chris Tycoon (C. Bley). All tracks written, engineered, performed, recorded and mastered by C. Charles Bley (including beats, synths, Andean flute, whistle, violin, piano, vocals and turntable). Except: female vocals on track 2 performed by Alexandria Cummings; female vocals on tracks 4 and 6 performed by Sarah Dekett and drum sample on track 4 performed by Sarah Dekett and C. Charles Bley; backing beats on Suite III written engineered and performed by Tim Tackett Hi Fi. Tracks 1-3 originally released online as a single track "Suite I: Uzi Café". Tracks 7-11 originally released online as part of a 6 song EP "Special Suite: Bellevue Place Broken & Entered". Hard copies duplicated and printed at B.Rox Records/Alley Records, Ypsilanti, Michigan.
Suite I: Uzi Café 1. Toppie's Espresso - 3:10 2. Uzi Café feat. Alexandria Cummings - 4:03 3. Meha & ChouChou - 3:54 Suite II: Peninsula 2116 4. Fanboat & Tank feat. Sarah DeKett - 13:43 5. Celosia Descendant - 4:17 6. Opinyon feat. Sarah DeKett - 8:15 III. Special Suite 7. Moon Symbol / BNKRPT2 feat. Tim Tackett Hi Fi - 3:43 8. Wobbie / BNKRPT feat. Tim Tackett Hi Fi - 4:22 9. &U feat. Tim Tackett Hi Fi - 6:05 10. Rica Mal feat. Tim Tackett Hi Fi - 6:10 11. NU feat. Tim Tackett Hi Fi - 4:18 Suite I recorded March 19 - 23, 2010. Remastered August 25, 2010. Suite II recorded and mastered August 24 - 26, 2010. Special Suite recorded July 9, 2010. Mastered July 12, 2010. Hidden track recorded July 12, 2010. Entire project created and executed at various locations within Kalamazoo County, Michigan, U.S.A. Vinyl sample on track 2 from "Mannix Theme" on the album "Sophisticated Funk" by Jack McDuff (used without permission). Explosion on track 5 from SoundBible.com (Sampling Plus 1.0 license). All other samples original. Background sample on track 5 from the song "Celosia" on the album "Michigan" by Tessa Rochon & Chris Tycoon (C. Bley). All tracks written, engineered, performed, recorded and mastered by C. Charles Bley (including beats, synths, Andean flute, whistle, violin, piano, vocals and turntable). Except: female vocals on track 2 performed by Alexandria Cummings; female vocals on tracks 4 and 6 performed by Sarah Dekett and drum sample on track 4 performed by Sarah Dekett and C. Charles Bley; backing beats on Suite III written engineered and performed by Tim Tackett Hi Fi. Tracks 1-3 originally released online as a single track "Suite I: Uzi Café". Tracks 7-11 originally released online as part of a 6 song EP "Special Suite: Bellevue Place Broken & Entered". Hard copies duplicated and printed at B.Rox Records/Alley Records, Ypsilanti, Michigan.
A further imagining of the Suites, this mix spans 4 years of various works in electronic-based music by C. Charles Bley.
In 2116, the land of Michigan is an island of resistance, surrounded by the North American Union. Despite their differences, standing up to the oppressive surveillance state is the first of two things Michigan's people agree on. The second is having a radio station that says and plays what it wants, when it wants. So they listen to MDMZ, and keep vigilant - militarizing the margins so that the interior stays healthy, free and peaceful.
1. Station Identification - 0:00 2. Catch Em In The Lakes - 0:24 3. Uzi Café Two - 1:34 4. Local Deconstruction - 3:39 5. Jungla 2 - 5:48 6. Refalconate - 7:26 7. I'm No Good - 9:10 8. The Seek Opus - 10:23 9. Pray No Storm - 13:42 10. Sickly Opinyon - 16:10 11. Elevated Train - 18:19 12. I Missed The Party - 20:39 13. Be Alert - 22:00 14. Signoff - 24:56 Compiled October 15-20, 2011 by C. Charles Bley from individual tracks recorded between October 2007 and October 2011. All instrumentation, vocals, rhythms or sound clips programmed/created/produced/performed by C. Charles Bley EXCEPT: Female vocals on Uzi Café Two performed by Alexandria Cummings. Rhythm on I'm No Good programmed/performed by Sage. Music/first verse/second hook on Pray No Storm written/programmed/performed by Tim Tackett Hi Fi. Female vocals on Sickly Opinyon performed by Sarah DeKett. Rhythm on I Missed The Party programmed/performed by Tim Tackett Hi Fi. Cover art by K. Byerley.
from movement 4 of MDMZ, the 2009 music video for Local Deconstruction
Madej Gras and Revisiting New Orleans
In 2116, the land of Michigan is an island of resistance, surrounded by the North American Union. Despite their differences, standing up to the oppressive surveillance state is the first of two things Michigan's people agree on. The second is having a radio station that says and plays what it wants, when it wants. So they listen to MDMZ, and keep vigilant - militarizing the margins so that the interior stays healthy, free and peaceful.
1. Station Identification - 0:00 2. Catch Em In The Lakes - 0:24 3. Uzi Café Two - 1:34 4. Local Deconstruction - 3:39 5. Jungla 2 - 5:48 6. Refalconate - 7:26 7. I'm No Good - 9:10 8. The Seek Opus - 10:23 9. Pray No Storm - 13:42 10. Sickly Opinyon - 16:10 11. Elevated Train - 18:19 12. I Missed The Party - 20:39 13. Be Alert - 22:00 14. Signoff - 24:56 Compiled October 15-20, 2011 by C. Charles Bley from individual tracks recorded between October 2007 and October 2011. All instrumentation, vocals, rhythms or sound clips programmed/created/produced/performed by C. Charles Bley EXCEPT: Female vocals on Uzi Café Two performed by Alexandria Cummings. Rhythm on I'm No Good programmed/performed by Sage. Music/first verse/second hook on Pray No Storm written/programmed/performed by Tim Tackett Hi Fi. Female vocals on Sickly Opinyon performed by Sarah DeKett. Rhythm on I Missed The Party programmed/performed by Tim Tackett Hi Fi. Cover art by K. Byerley.
from movement 4 of MDMZ, the 2009 music video for Local Deconstruction
Madej Gras and Revisiting New Orleans
It was still dark outside the first time I ever crossed into Louisiana on I-55 South, heading towards the interchange with I-10, which would drop me in the heart of New Orleans just after sunrise. I'd never been there before, didn't know anyone. Had no idea where I'd work or sleep.
It's six years later, and I'm cruising that same highway again, this time in broad daylight. I'm realizing how much I missed. The road, it turns out, is on pillars for miles, two stories above the surface. As my truck bounces across uniform dips in the pavement, coincidentally in perfect time to a Lykke Li remix on the stereo, a panorama of bayou slides by on the right. Before long, swamp shacks begin to appear, accessible only by boat. Then, the bayou opens up to reveal Lake Ponchartrain on the left, and the distant skyline of New Orleans on the horizon.
There's plenty of catching up to do between NOLA and I. That will run secondary to my obligations, though. Because this weekend I'm behind one of the private gates of the French Quarter, playing piano for a friend's wedding ceremony. Most tourists walking by on the street probably never assume they're only a few steps from secret gardens like these. Some tourists don't at all treat the Quarter like it was anyone's home.
It's six years later, and I'm cruising that same highway again, this time in broad daylight. I'm realizing how much I missed. The road, it turns out, is on pillars for miles, two stories above the surface. As my truck bounces across uniform dips in the pavement, coincidentally in perfect time to a Lykke Li remix on the stereo, a panorama of bayou slides by on the right. Before long, swamp shacks begin to appear, accessible only by boat. Then, the bayou opens up to reveal Lake Ponchartrain on the left, and the distant skyline of New Orleans on the horizon.
There's plenty of catching up to do between NOLA and I. That will run secondary to my obligations, though. Because this weekend I'm behind one of the private gates of the French Quarter, playing piano for a friend's wedding ceremony. Most tourists walking by on the street probably never assume they're only a few steps from secret gardens like these. Some tourists don't at all treat the Quarter like it was anyone's home.
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| faces obscured for privacy |
The gate to the courtyard above, where the wedding is being held, is just around the corner from where I stayed back in 2005.
My own gate didn't lead to anything so beautiful, in the classical sense. Behind it was a long dirty cobblestone walkway. It was lit just enough by sunlight sneaking in between the high brick walls above, and led back to an old staircase. In turn, each landing on the staircase opened onto rickety catwalks where the doors of apartments were. My front door had a padlock, not a doorknob. It was a different kind of beautiful; beautiful for its flavor.
In a moment of free time, I walk, in my shiny black shoes and good suit, over to Royal Street. I offer my camera to the first kind old lady tourist I meet, hoping she will aid in a little posterity. At the heart of it, I suppose all it really is now, is a picture of me and a gate. I see a yellow hand-scribbled for-rent sign, and figure plenty of lives came and went from here since I left.
After the wedding, the bride and groom suggest I park my truck away from downtown, at their house, and ride her moped back. I've been feeding parking meters since arriving yesterday, and in New Orleans you can park a scooter or moped up on the sidewalk against any building provided it's not in front of a door. So I happily take the offer. Once sitting on the piglet - since it's definitely no "hog" - I remove my tie, unbutton my dress shirt about halfway down, and cram the petite helmet (pink stripe down the middle) onto my large dome. Ready to ride.
Next morning after lunch, I take a cruise down Canal Street to the river. Used to walk up here in the evenings after work with a pint of whiskey, and ride the free ferry back and forth until after dark. Sometimes I'd get off on the other side and sit by the river, looking across at the skyline. This time, I've got The Book with me, a little project my love and I trade back and forth, in which I'm planning on doing some writing. She was supposed to be here with me this weekend. So, thinking of an experience I would have shared with her, I film a point-of-view from the ferry as it drifts away from downtown.
In a moment of free time, I walk, in my shiny black shoes and good suit, over to Royal Street. I offer my camera to the first kind old lady tourist I meet, hoping she will aid in a little posterity. At the heart of it, I suppose all it really is now, is a picture of me and a gate. I see a yellow hand-scribbled for-rent sign, and figure plenty of lives came and went from here since I left.
After the wedding, the bride and groom suggest I park my truck away from downtown, at their house, and ride her moped back. I've been feeding parking meters since arriving yesterday, and in New Orleans you can park a scooter or moped up on the sidewalk against any building provided it's not in front of a door. So I happily take the offer. Once sitting on the piglet - since it's definitely no "hog" - I remove my tie, unbutton my dress shirt about halfway down, and cram the petite helmet (pink stripe down the middle) onto my large dome. Ready to ride.
Next morning after lunch, I take a cruise down Canal Street to the river. Used to walk up here in the evenings after work with a pint of whiskey, and ride the free ferry back and forth until after dark. Sometimes I'd get off on the other side and sit by the river, looking across at the skyline. This time, I've got The Book with me, a little project my love and I trade back and forth, in which I'm planning on doing some writing. She was supposed to be here with me this weekend. So, thinking of an experience I would have shared with her, I film a point-of-view from the ferry as it drifts away from downtown.
The music is a song from the album I finished writing when I lived here, then recorded a month later in St. Louis. Even without the taste of whiskey in my mouth, the memory of those nights comes back to me. "..I'm just ridin the ferry-boat drunk again. Thought to call and tell you that. Across the river again and again, watch the sun slip-slip-slip.."
I suppose there could be a grand realization or conclusion to this essay. But this weekend I'm coming back to a city where I'd only ever been during one of the hardest and craziest years of my life. Seems like forever ago, and I am not the same person anymore. I just enjoy being here again. The wedding is a beautiful occasion in an amazing place. And as it turns out, my NOLA gets on just fine without me.
Chrysalis Didgeridoos and CONFUSOR
From this..
..to this
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The Dreamcoat, The Ballad, and Old Denty
The Seamstress Lauren and I first met almost a decade ago. The dreamcoat was still somewhat innocent - practically brand new and lined with blinding gold fabric. So it seemed only reasonable to hire Lauren to repair it after years of sweat, rain, booze, passing out on dirty stairs at parties, standing calf-deep in mud, getting caught on stuff, two Bonnaroos, and many subsequent washings. Now it is re-lined in a deep chocolatey brown, with some of the more threadbare patches replaced by new patterns, colors and dreams.
I wrote and recorded this song in 2002. It's a bit of a sea-shanty about the time Lauren backed her car straight into the drivers side of mine. She was not the first or last to do so, but by far the most notable. "The Ballad of Lauren and Old Denty" originally appeared on the album "This Is East Hall" and performed under the name Funk Noka.
8.19.2009
Before that final all-nighter, fresh over the Canadian border in someplace Minnesota, mosquito-thick air receives my rendition of "The Star-Spangled Banner" which is both bellowing and sweet. I sing the last note and laugh my ass off. Heading to the East was the obvious choice for weeks before now, so this performance feels neither primal nor immature. No, this was a pleasant spontaneity, a reward for absolutely jamming a Chevy Blazer across Earth towards the rest of my life. It doesn't have to be more complicated than that.
I sang also because my home country might not take care of every little need, however, this is to the benefit of having a sense of responsibility in life and a story to tell. My story is so great it inevitably spilled over into the closest friendly nation. It may not have had a happy ending, but in the big picture - for the sake of adventure - there is never an ending at all.
Back at the beginning of summer, as I left Kalamazoo for the umpteenth time, I visited Sam's grave. Couldn't remember the last time I'd been there, because in the long healing process, those visits became less and less necessary. Regardless of why or how or whether it was just in my head, that day I was finally set free from being a prisoner of pain. Not worried about breaking down when something tips the scales. Blessed with fortitude and forbearance that some find unbelievable.
So, as things fell apart during the last few weeks, instead of the possibility of letting Canada's horror show break my composure, I embraced freedom. Rounded the corner until I couldn't see you crying there on the front steps, realizing all I had to do was aim this lipstick colored truck and shoot it down the highway. And my own tears stopped, and I smiled. Confidence and clarity, that's what some people use the truth for; we drink in it until we are saturated, let it course through us, and then use it to make good choices. The truth for others is confining, damning, like a welcome sign at the entrance to a tiny town. It boasts a population of 183, but no one there wants to admit the number is a countdown. It drives them to sink their claws into innocent passers-through as they fall.
Ten hours to go. As I enter the Upper Peninsula of Michigan this morning, I'm faced with a glorious sunrise. I've been driving (without my daily two hour nap) since Regina early yesterday, but the delirium I'm feeling can't be the only reason the beauty around me is so overwhelming. The isolated, neglected northern highway bordered by a multicolored fortress of trees. Half-abandoned towns, few and far between, just waking up. Haven't been to this part of the state in almost twenty years. I've returned to the greatest home I know: Michigan. Our motto? Si Quaeris Peninsulam Amoenam Circumspice.. If you seek a pleasant peninsula, look around you.
I don't plan on staying here longer than it takes to lose the tan line on my ring finger. And Michigan will be here when I come back again. Family and friends know that a year ago I claimed "at twenty-five my life is just getting started". More or less losing a whole year hasn't changed that at all.
I love you.. but..
I miss you.. but..
I deserve Michigan's beauty in every part of my life, no matter where I am, nor who I'm with.
