When I told people I wanted to change the sound of the band, almost every single one thought I was crazy. This group has done some great things over the past two years – it’s always amazing to watch when creative people start to work together and “get” each other, and one day, you look up, and six things have become one thing. The Geniuses: a well-oiled, full-throttle, indie-soul-machine.

So why change? Why give that up?

Well, I’ve written a lot on this blog about the individual voice. In my solo work, my focus has always been on being relentlessly myself, in the most authentic way possible. I believe that when you create work that feels real and honest, people will be compelled by it. Some people won’t, but that’s just how it is. (In fact, this sounds a lot like my general life philosophy.)

With the band, however, my focus had been different. There’s something so visceral about performance that it’s easy to fall into traps, and rely on what works. You can put on a great show that you love, and the audience loves, without ever doing anything they haven’t seen before. The more talented the players, the easier it is to get hooked on that experience, and lose sight of the greater goal.

So a few months ago, I had to ask myself: what do I specifically bring to the table? What can the Geniuses do that isn’t already being done? What can we give to the world that feels meaningful and real? And what am I doing as a solo performer that isn’t happening with the band?

So we sat down, Genius-to-Genius, and we started to hash it out. The answer is hard to put into words, but it has a lot to do with space. A certain quiet intensity that allows our three voices to really stand out. A sound that explores, but still feels warm and safe.

Less soul, more soulful. Less work, more play. Less yeah, more yes.

Tonight, we’re gonna set sail to find our destiny. We hope you’ll come with us.

Tix

Reader Best of 2010: Ian of Different Kitchen

Thanks Ian!

But there was just too much to see, and too much to do, and too much kicking around in my head to really get down in any meaningful way.  Maybe in a few months, I’ll be able to look back and put it all together. But all I have now are little snippets.  Pieces of each day that I can look back at and relive, moment-by-moment.

Here’s one from our first day:

We arrived in LA, and drove and drove and drove.  Every time I come here, we leave the airport, and I spend my time on the road wondering when we’re going to get there.  I always forget that being on the road IS L.A.  Their subway, their sidewalks, their long walks up 5th Avenue – it’s all cruising down the fucking highway.  The shared space is harder to come by, for better or for worse.

But I was with the boys.  Blasting our nerdy hip-hop and enjoying each other’s company.  A stop at In and Out burger.  Two-Touch and UTK freestyling over Dr. Octagon beats, doing Cypress Hill over Aphex Twin, taking iPhone videos of the whole crew faking our way through some old-school jam I didn’t even know.

Nice hotel, rehearsal, soundcheck.  Mingling with tomorrow’s audience in secret, so they don’t know what they’re in for.  26, 30, 31, 34. We eat, we drink beers, we play video games.  But the conversation deepens.  Single, girlfriend, wife, baby on the way.  We talk about the difference between lonely and alone.  We talk about reinventing yourself, and needing other people to fill the holes in your soul.

It keeps moving, and turning around – we have the same conversation again and again from different perspectives.  Creative directions, personal lives, The Four Arrangements.

The day ends with a quiet nighttime swim.  All in all, we’ve come to know each other in new ways. Show at 8 AM.  We’re ready.

We auditioned a new drummer, and I was sleepily milling over the recording of his audition, while triple-checking with Matty and Marie to make sure my excitement wasn’t unjustified.

It wasn’t. He’s awesome, and his name is Brad. The band is back in session.

I just got home from rehearsal with the Geniuses. Since we don’t have a drummer anymore, it’s just me, Matty (our bass player), and my sister Marie (who sings). Matty forgot his bass, so he played acoustic guitar.

And it was so sweet. I love that feeling of friends and family making quiet music together at home. I could feel pieces falling into place tonight, grooves starting to lock in. Harmonies are starting to unfold in my head, ideas of how to really make this music beautiful. And Marie bought us these really cute band pins.

It just feels good to be with them. I can’t wait to play with them onstage. I’ve been building up so much in the past few months as a performer and as a person, and I’m itching to give that to an audience. I need to get out there and share that feeling with the world.

But everything comes at a price. No work on the album tonight. I need to get some sleep.