…another recording in the Horace Weston series, this time an 1882 number called “Horace Weston’s Old Time Jig.”

Horace Weston's Old Time Jig (320K MP3)
(FLAC)
(OGG)

I wrote down the music for this classic gospel tune called “Farther Along.” Here’s what it looks like:

But then I wanted to share the original in case anybody wants to modify it. And then I wanted people to be able to modify other people’s modifications. What if somebody makes a recording, and then somebody remixes it? And shouldn’t I be able to make successive improvements to the page, in case I find mistakes or ways to do a better job? This could get out of hand. There needs to be a tool to manage it.

So instead of putting my original up on my own server, I put it on Github. That’s where you’ll find the full size image, the PDF, the Sibelius original, MIDI, and an AIFF.

Nouveau Oldtime Jam in Santa Monica — Blind Boy Paxton, Dom Flemons (of Carolina Chocolate Drops), and Frank Fairfield

Here’s a simplified transcription of the Snooks Eaglin version of the folk/blues classic “Careless Love.”

Even though this song is super simple it still helps a band to have all the parts clearly spelled out, especially the melody.

Speaking of the melody, I only notate where the note changes, and not when the number of syllables require the singer to break a long note out into single notes. That makes it easier to read, as long as you know that a long note in this genre is supposed to be broken up.

Also: I transposed for my own vocal range. Original was in G, this is in D.

I feel like an idiot posting this stuff, because it’s so unlikely that anybody will actually use it. But I feel even dumber not posting it, because there’s no reason for anybody who can Google up this post to redo my work.

My strategy with the layout was to apply the principles of interaction design and think of writing music as an exercise in usability.

The font size is prioritized. The song title is huge because players will be flipping through a stack of unorganized paper in a brief interval between songs. The title is to the right (instead of the ordinary place on the left) because lead sheets get stapled or bound on the left. The chords are huge and the lyrics are big because players will be reading in real time, at a distance, and in bad light. The metadata is tiny so it won’t distract in real-time. The melody is mid-size, as big as possible without distracting from the all-important chords and lyrics.

I played at a cool little event in Venice Beach last night — a house concert with a bunch of musicians and actors doing 10-15 minutes sets. It’s the same format as an open mic except that the organizer recruits most of the players.

Brad Kay (piano) and Tom Marion (mandolin) are both stellar old time jazz players.

The highlight of the night was Frank Fairfield’s red hot set on fiddle and jug.

The lowlight was going on right after Frank. I got a little nerved up and blanked on parts of an easy song. People were mainly still enthusiastic about the music, but not me.

It turned into a rocking and superloose party and I had to tear myself away after midnight. Just as I was leaving I noticed that the host had an entire room devoted to his record collection.

(High res here)

If everybody does it, what’s original about writing original songs?

The reason our musical culture has grown such an overwhelming emphasis on original songs is that owning compositions is lucrative.

Revenues from compositions can be more enduring than from sound recordings, because performances go in and out of style, but new performances can bring an old song back to life.

And this way of evaluating the virtues of a piece of music complements the corporate basis of the business. Corporations need to be able to think of their work as investments. Compositions are assets that can be bought and sold, amassed, licensed, published, attributed. As a result songwriters can get corporate backing, which in turn enables them to rise at the expense of non-songwriters.

It’s an economic thing, not an art thing.

Yesterday I played in a mainline jazz act at an art gallery. I liked the guy I was playing with, and I had a fun time navigating the chord changes. That style of jazz is like a first person shooter: you fire at each chord as it comes along, and if you miss one there’s always another.

gurdonark on peaktrough in Hollywood:

When I think of music in Los Angeles, I always think of the wrong things. I think of kids who came all the way west to pay to play Cococut T’zers and homogenizing their style into a kind of Los Angeles bar band sound that always sounds a bit dated. On the other hand, I think of folks writing music for movies, and feeling insulted, somehow, because the people for whom they write want the music to be a universal prop for a wide audience film.

I know I should think instead of mariachi guys who light up the sky every Thursday at La Fonda, or guys out in Shadow Hills who make music for the creative commons on their home computers, but I always think about notes in Guitar Center or the weekly alternative that say “must appreciate Alice in Chains”.

I think about the relationship between these two classes of players pretty often. I don’t know why.

The dreamer players are a tsunami. The ambitious — often bitter — talented are a steady trickle. I am myself among the unambitious but passionate mediocrities, who know each other by the wake of modest bands.