Rockin’ out to some sweet dad jams.
At 12 I had my first existential crisis. At 14 I started playing guitar. My guitar teacher’s name was Joe and he taught out of a strip mall on the side of the highway. I spent most of our lessons watching him shred.
I used to sing into a tape recorder when no one was home. I sang about my feelings as an alienated youth. My dad lent me a reel-to-reel recorder. I laid down multiple tracks, particularly child-like vocal rounds with disturbing, heady lyrics. This tickled my mischievous side.
At 18 I moved to Pittsburgh to study psychology. I spent my days like a rat in a maze, scurrying from dorm to classroom to cafeteria to library and as the sun set, back to dorm. At night via cell phone, I confronted the failing relationship I had left behind in New Jersey. Then I settled into bed and watched reality TV to drown out reality reality.
Basking in the radiation. Photo by Noah Rabinowitz.
Something About Violins was conceived secretly. If I heard the slightest semblance of a footstep outside my dorm room, I would abruptly flip off the red button. This proved exceptionally frustrating. It took me at least 10 times longer to produce this album than it would have had I not been a self-conscious wreck.
I went public with my efforts only to woo a special boy. At least half the songs on Something About Violins embody the awkwardness of playing a song about a boy you like in front of him without knowing if he knows who the song is about (i.e. – him). With all my energy focused on this boy, my generalized anxiety took a backseat.
Something About Violins was recorded with an iBook G4’s pinhole microphone, musical typing and GarageBand. The voice was innate, but sculpted in after-school chorus (K-12). The guitar was bargain and packaged with matching amp. Intended for children only.
Something About Violins was released by Western Vinyl in 2006. Read the Pitchfork review and/or buy it on Amazon.
