I can count the number of vocalists who have influenced my singing style on one hand. There are dozens of guitarists who have inspired me, but not many vocalists. Brad Delp, lead singer of Boston, was among those few. He had a hell of a voice. It was clean and clear, steady and right on the note. It cut right through the mix of every song he sang, even with Tom Scholz’s explosive guitar work raging in the background. And he knew how to harmonize, for sure. His range was spectacular; he belted out high notes with a banshee’s wail. He had one of the most distinctive voices in all of classic rock, and it’s a sad thing to know that he committed suicide last week. I sure hope there’s a place for a voice like that in the afterlife. It’s a damn shame.

Side note: I hate to revel in the details of a person’s death, but Delp’s method of suicide was strikingly thoughtful (as much as a suicide can be, that is). He gave himself carbon monoxide poisoning by locking himself in his bathroom with two charcoal grills, and left a note on his door warning anyone who might come looking for him that there was carbon monoxide inside. In his suicide note he took responsibility for his own actions, and even left instructions for contacting family and friends. His affairs were apparently all in order. Scholz’s statement claimed Delp was “the nicest guy in rock.” It’s certainly not the drug-addled, self-absorbed sort of suicide you usually hear about.

Oh, HELL YES.

Porcupine Tree is another one of my favorite bands, hence the excitement over the news that Alex Lifeson of Rush will be guesting on their next album. I first heard of them back in 1998 or 1999, when I found a recording of them playing live at the House of Blues.

It’s a shame that their most recent album, Deadwing, left so much to be desired, because the previous album, In Absentia, contains some of their best work to date. Here is a live performance of “Trains,” from that album:

Holy crap, I have got to read Power Windows more often. Apparently Alex Lifeson will be guesting on the new Porcupine Tree album. I really, really, really, really hope it’s better than Deadwing, because that announcement just ensured I’ll be shelling out for it regardless.

And it looks like PT is on Atlantic now. Considering Neil Peart’s mention of them in Travelling Music, and the fact that they were vamping “The Sound of Muzak” from In Absentia at the show in Selma on the 30th Anniversary tour, I wouldn’t be surprised if Rush was involved in getting them that deal.

On a related note, Neil Peart will be in the upcoming Aqua Teen Hunger Force movie. If there was a movie custom-made for my amusement, it is probably this one.

It’s tentatively scheduled for April. You may find me huddled outside Waterloo Records the night before the release date, the way nerds line up for Star Wars tickets (guilty!) or video game consoles. Except I’ll probably be the only one there.

I’ve been listening to Amy Grant all evening. I don’t really have an excuse.

Apparently it supports audio resolutions up to 192 kHz. Considering the recent realization that the Line 6 Vetta needs to operate in 96 kHz in order to do digital reamping without degrading the signal, it looks like I may be getting one after all.

’Til now I’ve been recording at 44.1 kHz resolution, which is CD quality, and truthfully, you won’t be able to hear much above that. But when things are built to utilize 96 kHz, sometimes a lower resolution is noticeably different because of the degradation of the process. I record the signal from the Vetta completely dry — that is, without amp or effects. Then I send that signal back through the Vetta later on and record a wet version with amp and effects. This allows me to tweak the amp and effect settings later in the game without having to re-record the track. But there’s a noticeable degradation of the sound when I do all this in 44.1 kHz as opposed to 96 kHz. And since resolution in my recording program is determined by project rather than by track, the upshot is that I have to record everything in 96 kHz now.

My current PowerBook G4 only supports up to 48 kHz. I use an external audio device for recording anyway, and that device supports 96 kHz, but the point of having a laptop is taking your stuff with you. I sometimes work on mixes through headphones; toting an extra recording device is a pain. Having built-in 96 kHz support would help me out here. On top of that, I don’t think it could handle the processor load that 96 kHz audio requires (I’m more than doubling the amount of work to be done here).

And on top of that, it looks like I’m a total nerd.

The critics love it, of course. Most of those who don’t seem to take more issue with the Dixie Chicks’ music than the movie itself. But Nick Schager of Slant Magazine hits the nail on the head:

“…the group—as a phenomenally popular act reliant on the support of conservative Southern country fans—unintentionally made a terrible business decision by speaking out, and thus simply suffered the predictable economic consequences of their actions…”

“Kopple and Peck’s fawning documentary convincingly argues that the Dixie Chicks didn’t deserve such malicious, chauvinistic, and threatening treatment. But some negative press, a slew of protests by redneck patriots, and a dip in record and tour ticket sales do not, in spite of Shut Up & Sing’s best efforts, an American tragedy make.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

I found the following definition on Chris Kinman’s website.

Sorcerer’s Apprentice Syndrome: When every problem you solve causes two or more more problems to appear.

Heh. Don’t I know it.

This just pisses me off like nothing else. I can’t believe people are still buying this crock. The Dixie Chicks are not martyrs to freedom of speech. They are victims of their own hubris.

The harsh reality is that freedom of speech, in music, in art, or in any other venue, does not mean freedom from consequence. The government didn’t censor the Dixie Chicks. Their rights were never violated, they weren’t being shut down or oppressed. They got dumped by fans who did not take their comments kindly. And it is a listener’s right to choose not to listen to someone whose political remarks they despise. And it is a radio station’s right to choose not to give airplay to a band that will upset its listeners. Those fans, and those radio stations, are expressing their freedom of speech every bit as much as the Dixie Chicks were. To paint these harpies as martyrs is beyond intellectually dishonest. It is downright hypocritical.

There is a sick sense among artists these days that you should be able to say whatever you want and people still have to patronize you. And if you ask me, that’s far more oppressive than being forced to accept the consequences for the things you say in public. Either say what you want and accept that it could tarnish your popularity, or shut up and enjoy the adulation of people who don’t know what you’re thinking. You can’t have your cake and eat it, too. But the Dixie Chicks seem to think their freedom of speech is more important than everyone else’s.