Margin Walker
/I removed all of my music from Spotify last week.
It should never have been there in the first place, but our culture has taught us to reach for the morsels of ‘success’ at every turn. I was worried that it would feel like giving up, and it does in a way, but it also holds the wisdom of letting go, of ceasing to give energy to false hopes. Mostly, I feel great about it. Sixteen year old Jefferson, standing at 924 Gilman St in 1988 awaiting Fugazi on stage, would have been aghast at how far from integrity this Spotify nonsense is. What are we doing people? And what a pain in the ass. All of the hours spent sitting in front of the computer uploading images and those stupid little videos, and sending off something from every release for Spotify to “feature".” Which of course they never did. What horseshit. How I would love to be back at Kinko’s Copies in Davis, Xeroxing flyers and postcards for the mail, making covers for my homemade CDs.
Many of the other streaming services are also troubling and the pay is dismal, but they’re not as bad. Not even close. Much as I wish that everyone could/would just buy physical copies of everything, I understand the convenience and the good in having access to so much music. Of course, most people are only listening to a narrow swath anyway, determined by mathematics not human heart or imagination, but that’s another matter.
The CEO of Spotify has donated hundreds of millions of dollars to AI weaponry. Spotify has ben running ICE recruitment advertisements. They have been running advertisements seeking armed guards for Israeli prisons, illegally detaining thousands of Palestinians. If that’s not enough, they are doing virtually nothing to stop or even place guardrails around AI music. Christ. I didn’t know any of these things until I was reading about the band Xiu Xiu (the lead singer of which is on my record titled Of Great and Mortal Men) who recently pulled their music. I don’t really want to write any more about it. We can do better folks.
For those of you listening to my work, I can recommend a few alternatives; you’ll even notice that you can listen to the aforementioned Of Great and Mortal Men at the first two.
And yes, you’ll have to pay something. We could certainly argue that all music should be free, that it is like oxygen or water, that it was once ritual, is still ritual, and that it is essential to human well being. But it takes time and money to make music, and as it has been commodified, I feel that we musicians should receive some form of compensation. If, at the end of my life, I just broke even, that would feel like a miracle.
I apologize if Spotify is your primary place of listening, but perhaps this is an opportunity for you to discover a new way. These openings in our lives can be wonderful.
On the heels of this, in the fall, I will be releasing another LP (digitally) and I will have some new, physical media about which I will remain mum for now. Let’s just say that it’s more aligned with the old Kinko’s days. I have also embarked on what I will call a new musical “journey,” one that only a few people know about, the details of which I will share at some point, once I have more to say. Still ingesting/digesting. Suffice to say, I am incredibly excited/elated.
Last fall, when my hand was finally able to sort-of play again, I got to work adding things to a delightful record by Jonathan Stevens. The story is a bit long, but he asked if I would produce this record of his, and I said yes. It sort of got away from us, spinning off the rails, but in the end I think everyone was happy, especially considering that there wasn’t much of a budget. I will always view this project as the songs that lured me back from the depths. I would sit there listening, trying to figure out what to add to the pieces, when I couldn’t play chords, and barely had the strength to hold down the strings.
In September, when I began, I was absolutely crestfallen. It was hard on the heart. But by the end I felt simply triumphant, as I somehow found ways to make music. If nothing else, I am a tenacious fucker. Jonathan’s songs have a wonderful buoyancy and lightness of heart; an effortless fluidity. Folk music, with some of the openness of jazz. He is a poet through and through, and the record has elements of the great British folk tradition, a little bit of Joni and Dylan, a quiet, meandering soul, and some of my heart in there. And who, but Jonathan, could write an eight minute song about Homer that feels just right?
I added a bunch of guitars and ambient sound, accordion, piano, and some vocal harmonies. My only recommendation is, that you listen somewhere other than Spotify. And that you know the basics, drums, bass, acoustic rhythm guitar, and main vocal, were all recorded live. Jonathan just wouldn’t have it any other way! It presented some complications in mixing, etc., as he was playing guitar and singing, without isolation, but what a beautiful torch to carry.
On upright bass is the formidable John Nuhn, my son Tilden Pitcher on the drum kit. Andrew Oedel of Ghost Hit Recording worked through some difficulties to make this all sound as good as it does.
You can find the record, Rhymes With Lyre here.
I just love Jonathan’s guitar playing and the sound of his old acoustic, made by my mentor Bill Cumpiano; such an uncommon richness. If anyone reading wants me to add sounds to your record, just ask. It is a process that I simply adore.
And this summer, I’ve been walking down the stairs slowly, mindful of each step. Enjoy the warm weather folks.
