journal . Ben Sommer

Metalo

Latin Metal means two things: Heavy Metal Music by Latin American bands, or Heavy Metal songs sung in the Latin Language. I am not sure if there is any current strain in the very diverse international metal scene devoted to bringing ancient latin texts to life with Hoarse Voice Singing, but if there isn't, may I offer my latest recording as an example: <Cloaca Maxima>. This is the last song I have to mix for MishMosh, and I'm glad - because I think its the finest song on the album - almost symphonic in scope. As I explained when I began recording it last July, Cloaca Maxima means 'Great Sewer'. This was the first of the great civil engineering projects of Ancient Rome. It was begun around 600 B.C., and has been carrying the effluvia of the city safely out to pasture ever since. Biologists, in their academic penchant for giving Latin names to body parts, also call any anal opening through which both urine and feces is evacuated a Cloaca. This applies to amphibians, worms, and human fetuses in the first trimester. As you might imagine, Freud found convincing evidence for his twisted theory of childhood development, in young boys who figure that their Mommies pee and poop out their bums, and that mommy and daddy procreate by doodoo-ing on each other. He called this the Cloacal Theory.

So why write a song about such a stinky topic? Well, I think its funny the way a word's meaning can evolve over thousands of years, yet still refer to the same disgusting thing. I was first made aware of Cloaca after watching a documentary on this wacko Belgian conceptual artist Wim Delvoye who designed and constructed a giant room-sized machine with gears and pulleys - and a good dose of active enzymes - that would process food you fed it through one end, and shit it out the other end a day later. And it had a striking resemblance to the human stuff. Very 'le mode'.

Anyway, my song draws on texts by Livy - the great biographer of Ancient Rome - as well as Pig-Latin translations of The Interpretation of Dreams, and Gray's Anatomy. The music? Well...

Colonoscopy Powell

When I was in 5th grade, my parents foisted on me a summer camping experience I did not want. I wanted to keep it simple and just return to the same cheap, plain old YMCA camp in Connecticut to which I'd gone the previous summer. They insisted I attend Camp Dudley on Lake Champlain, which was a fascistic bully's playground for the legacy brats of Rich Connecticut Men (see here, and here for the truth about this strange specimen of society). I got along miserably, had my shorts wedgied several times, and was asked to 'Take a year off' next year. The lowest point was when, at some stupid Pep Rally/Sing-Along in the cafeteria one day, this counselor Stew (I forget his last name - let's call him Epstein, 'cause he was retarded like the guy on Welcome Back Cotter), who really was retarded and was obviously a sympathy hire - this guy Stew was goin' all 'Huzzah' 'n shit leading the crowd. Well, I leaned over to one of the dorky kids in my cabin and made a kind of 'wink-wink' joke with him - something like 'yo, they should call him Beef Stew Epstein' - a stupid joke. This dork-ass kid raised his hand immediately and called for one of our cabin counselors to tattle on me. He even picked the dorky-ass counselor to tattle to, who had it out for me something fierce. In the event I was taken to see the Director, upon which I was given my 1-year exile. Thank goodness.

The Point - Oh yeah, the point is I've had no luck making cheap-shot stupid jokes at well-respected individuals in my life. But I already wrote that headline above, and I didn't think it right to betray my first instincts when writing this journal.

A brief addendum to my rant last week:

Colonoscopy Powell ( Lord, will I ever stop the madness? Really, this guy is straight-up. Its too bad he has to act the Uncle Tom to G Double-yizzle 'Big Baby' Bush 'n him 'Nuculer Weapons of MD) took a badd-ass stance against the Bush Wacker on his Affirmative Action Brief. Aside from my disagreeing with him on substance, I appreciate his bullseye remark on the hipocracy of poeple in his party who never miss an opportunity to dis affirmative action for black kids, but keep qiuet about affirmative action for business lobbyists greasing the very sqeaky wheels on capitol hill. But I say, again - it ain't necessarily so...two wrongs don't make a right. Is it that simple? Yes. Affirmative action people think that two wrongs make a right.

My People

I remember in my junior year of college, I took a January-term course titled - 'Music of Oppressed Peoples'. It was interesting stuff, and my natural disinclination not to buy into rhetoric - in this case of the left-wing, 'pity-the-victim' flavor - was tempered by having the opportunity to learn about some great music. Music from places like Armenia, Poland, South Africa, and Hungary. Tied in with this course was a lecture series by local 'Minority' speakers. One guy was Harry Mathews, a college employee and generally acting as czar of campus race relations. I never knew him personally, but bumped into him all the time and he seemed pretty cheerful and friendly. But this particular talk turned out to be like a viper's nest of black and hispanic students teamed up with self-hating whites, all of whom basically just turned out to curse the white devil. Mr. Mathews was particularly vapid, ranting about how he was never gonna stop "till slavery was put right". It was amazing stuff.

Anyhow, I thought of that as I read through Hartwick's new alumni mag, which reminds me how far the left-wing race-baiting constituent has come since that January years ago. I'm glad they're doing more on Environmental studies, but its a shame that more creative minds can't prevail, and that this and other issues can't be divorced from its traditional liberalist rhetoric.

In recent news, there is a simple contradiction at the root of Affirmative Action. Its one that a 10-year old might think to ask. Its one that should be able to be aswered in terms a 10-year old could understand. Its one that I am faced with every time I read the HR policy of a college I might like to work for... "X University doesn't discriminate based on anything, etc....but, Women, minorities, disabled, heck, even patently under-qualified individuals are encouraged to apply!". How can they not discriminate based on something, but then say they actually would encourage certain people to apply? Is it so they can say "Ha! You fell for it! Didn't you read the first part before you applied? The part that said 'no discrimination, dude!' ?" I don't think so. Spout all you want about 'compelling interest' - it's spaghetti-logic, have-your-cake-and-not-get-fat reasoning that should make any sane person cringe. There. I'm done.

Hits You Like a Brick

This one was written almost 2 years ago - <Foci Foo>, and was my first avowed move into 'straight' rock. Actually its kind of late-eighties power instrumental rock. Sounds a lot like King Crimson to me. I'm not too crazy about it, but I could imagine some greasy high school guitar kids pumping their pists to it, so It'll do fine for MishMosh.

The mix is pretty good, though not as tight as I'd like it. I think that the somewhat flabby drum sound is partly to blame for that. And this is a shame, cause it marks the debut recording for me of my favorite percussionist, George Arsenault. We met at UMass-Amherst a few years ago. He is the one of the sharpest musicians I know - he reads like a hawk (as should all good drummers), has an excellent touch, and yet can still bust the heads off when I ask him to. Moreover, he doesn't need to be told twice how to play something. I guess that's an intelligence thing, and isn't really able to be taught. Anyway, we flew by our pant seats when we recored it - the kit he played was cobbled together from other drummer friends at the last minute. I think it shows.

Next week should bring the last rough mix for MishMosh - Cloaca Maxima (see July 21). Then I really need to briefly revisit all the tracks on the album, to apply my new-found compression/EQ/panning voodoo to them. So, it appears that the March 1st deadline will probably happen after all.

Gothic Jazz-Thrash King

Please enjoy my latest and (I think) most rocking, death-thrash-goth jazz piece recorded yet. I think it will make a good opener for the album:
De Profundis
It was written 3 years ago and performed once live when I was in grad school. Things have come a long way in the 'serious music' fiefdom if I could succesfully pass this one off as art. De Profundis is the title line to psalm 129. It says: 'De Profundis clamavi ad te Domine' ... translated: "Out of the depths I cry to thee, O Lord". I took the whole line (except for the Domine part) and set it to my alternately booming/screeching voice. I hope I don't get smote by lightning when the record is released.

Why my mixes don't suck anymore

I finally learned the secret to a full-sounding sharp mix - dynamic processing. You see, when you first get into 'home recording' (read dumb-ass, finger-up-your-ass type of know-nothing musician with more ambition than technical talent), you keep asking yourself: "Why doesn't my recording sound as big and fat and 'live' as the major label stuff?" For the most part, the reason is you didn't use compression, or some other dynamics booster/squeezer. I just learned how to use this technique creatively. I hope it comes across as not too amateurish. It sounds rad to me.

Christmas was nice in Montreal with family this year. Totally high-end accomodations at the Ritz-Carlton (thanks, Dad) were nice. Unending rich and expensive meals (yeah, thanks a lot Dad [and mom, etc.]) were nice too, though I'll be paying down the bills for quite some time. The most remarkable thing was how, when we crossed the desolate northern border of Vermont, all of a sudden there were houses and towns and stuff (not to mention the roads turned ugly). How weird. Canada is a weird country.