Jackson Browne - "These Days" (Clea Anais Cover)

"These Days" feels so relevant during these strange Covid times... it's easy to get caught up reflecting on the past. Do you feel the same?

Jackson Browne, who wrote the song at 16, played guitar on the version that Nico released in 1970. That was three years before he recorded a version of it himself.

Browne recounted on KGSR Radio Austin that he'd forgotten that he'd licensed the film The Royal Tenebaums to use the song. He explained: "This is one of those things that comes to you in the mail and you don't know what they're talking about and you simply give them their permission. You're sitting in the movie theater and there's this great moment when Gwyneth Paltrow is coming out of a bus or something like that. I'm thinking to myself, I used to play the guitar just like that. And then the voice comes on and it's Nico singing 'These Days,' which I played on."

Thank you to Jackson Browne and also Nico who inspired.

Gorgeous guitar stylings by Jarret Mayo @bobarret

and outfit and makeup by the amazing Janelle Watling @magicboom

Interview with Chris Dadge

In a sentence how do you self-identify as a human/creator? 

• mmmm let's go with: "Calgary-based musician, composer, producer, engineer, and concert organizer."

more info can be found here: http://www.bugincision.com/chrisdadge

Is there anything under the sun you would like to say about recording, life, or topics of your choice? 

• In general I've really enjoyed the trajectory I've found myself on over the last couple years. The earlier part of my musical life involved a lot playing in a lot of bands and one-off projects, both live and in the studio, and about four or five years ago, my work recording and writing with Lab Coast led to a lot of requests from people and bands to help them make their albums too. I didn't necessarily plan this, or even consider myself very skilled at recording music, but both me and the people I've worked with seem to be pleased with the results, and I've since become pretty obsessed with the whole thing. From learning about gear and technical processes to the history and all the players involved, it's become a bit all-encompassing. It does mean I'm ultimately playing less drums (my main instrument) and spending more time turning digital knobs, but it's made me more aware and appreciative of the "nose to tail" aspect of making a recording. It's a continual challenge, very humbling, and an always-needed kick in the ass. Some highlights of these last years of work include albums I've made with Jom Comyn, Marlaena Moore, Sunglaciers, Hex Ray, Strip Mall, and the upcoming Samantha Savage Smith and Lab Coast albums.
  
  

• More specifically, I must say it was a treat to be invited to work on your album as well. Not only because I hold you in high regard, and am aware of the high calibre of people you consistently choose to work with, but also because I've always admired your music and am happy to count you as a longtime friend, collaborator, and colleague. Plus, the rest of the crew you assembled for this album was nothing short of stellar, and I got to work with folks who I'm always eager to do more with (Graham, Brock) and also become acquainted with some new badasses (Jarrett, Kevin) along the way. Sometimes in a recording session or collaborative situation one feels themselves pulling the others along, or feeling the need to actively take the lead, but there were no slouches involved here. The high levels musicianship and studio savvy of those involved instead lifted me up and made for an extremely rich working environment. All I had to do was keep up! I'm very excited for people to hear the finished album. 

What do you love about working on records?

• Well, first and foremost I am a fan of records, I find it endlessly exciting to be involved with making these things that I happen to love so much. As someone obsessed with all the small details in the creation and (hopefully) subsequent enjoyment of a record, it's awesome to be the one making these details happen, and seeing what people find in them once it's out in the world. Having a tangible result at the end of a long process of work is rewarding, knowing the potential for what these things can mean to people is a tasty carrot to be dangling in front of oneself. Making records for bands and other people is also a cool chance to witness a multitude of band and interpersonal dynamics, and it's fun and challenging to navigate all the different ways folks approach their music. I usually come out at the end of a project with some new skill or perspective, and I'd love to think I could impart the same things to others.

I'd love to know if there’s anything creative you’re excited to be working on or just enjoying right now

• Here's a couple in-progress and finished things I'm excited about moving to the next realm:

  • new Lab Coast album: it's called "Here You're Nowhere", and has been in the can for a little while now. When Covid hit we'd just started our search for release outlets, and kinda put it on hold since then, so hopefully it'll see the light of day sometime this new year... fingers crossed. I'm excited for people to hear it - we've played some of the songs live, but most of it will be brand new, and it's by far the most elaborate of our productions, a deeper studio dive, while still hopefully retaining the things people seem to like about us. We also have a little EP of cover recordings we've made over the last 10 years, and we'll be rolling those out over the first little bit of this year.

  • In February I recorded a follow-up to my album "Close Enough For Comfort". It's a continuation of the loose compositional process I used for that album, which is based on the natural sustain/decay of different string and percussion instruments. This one expands the harmonic aspect of the pieces, and sounds way better. Monty Munro helped me out with the recording, and his prowess of various instruments went a long way. It also kinda got temporarily shelved during Covid times, but I'm in the process of planning its release now. 

  • One of the few things I was able to work on with others last year was a new project with Jeff MacLeod (Florida BC, Cape May) and Nina Nastasia, one of my all-time favourite songwriters and musicians. I helped Jeff record tracks here in Calgary and then we flew them back and forth to Nina in Chicago. Clinton St. John is also on some of it. The album is finished now, but I'll leave it to them to say any more about it. 

  • Last month I started working on another solo album, this time a collection of songs I've written and half-written over the last decade or so, which I'll be doing mostly all by myself over the next couple months. Before the era of Lab Coast (my other (co-)writing outlet), I had a band where I sang my songs (and we made a record with Jay Crocker and Monty Munro), but I haven't really done anything of my own since the last show of that band in 2012. I'm in the process of figuring out what kind shape it's taking at the moment. Should be done by spring. 

  • Last year I started some work on the new Alvvays album (again halted due to Covid), and it's sounding great, and I'm excited to dive back into that whenever we can. 

  • And I'm stoked to see the unreleased productions I've worked on make it out into the world too - Samantha Savage Smith, The Dead Fibres, Uncanny Valley, Beta Boys, and Kid Cali. 

Success and Failure in 2021

…. and two ways to reset your day.

Driving home from my flight today, I simultaneously toyed with the dichotomy of my current reality. When I consider my life, on one hand I see a rich journey. My experience has been filled with unbelievable privilege to have traveled the world as a flight attendant and musician. My parents gave me the gift of education, and I now have an undergraduate degree, as well as a painstakingly earned Commercial Pilot’s license. 

At the same time, I am an adult with comparatively nothing to my name, and Covid has only accentuated this. For every step towards ‘progress’, I feel like I fall backwards ten. Guaranteed, I could have made very different choices along the way, but at the same time my experience genuinely seems to resonate with others. I repeatedly encounter people in all walks of life who feel like they have fallen short of the landmarks their subconscious evokes. The issue is that these markers, like outdated stories of renegade cowboys and disney princesses, are deeply conditioned within us. How impossible is it to never consider the reality of your parents at your age, the ways in which they had already made strides towards careers, homes, families, and question how you have not reached landmarks you believed you would have by a certain point in life?

The reality is however, the structures that allow us to achieve the “fundamentals of success” have shifted in the landscape around us. What was once attainable is progressively unrealistic. Access to checking all the boxes of ‘adult success’ becomes narrower every day. We all know these stories, so I won't elaborate much: 

The exponential growth of urban property value vs the miniscule increase in wages, and the unaffordability of owning a home if you live in a major urban centre. 

The possibility of career tenure juxtaposed with a search for meaningful work, maintaining a work life balance, achieving fair wages, and good benefits.

Modern day relationships and the evolution of what “conventional” looks like in partnerships. Not to mention the impact of this on the choice to have and raise children, or to not have them at all. 

Ideals like these may not be yours, but they can ruminate uncomfortably at a very deep level. Despite what your intellect values, it is challenging in a modern world to feel as though you have “achieved” as much as was once possible. I have struggled to avoid circling the drain towards this conundrum of despair, and recovering from that mental cloud can be frustrating if you focus on justifying, controlling, or changing your reality quickly when the results are so dependent on external factors.

What I want to offer are two stoic coping mechanisms when faced with the stress of this type of “failure”. 

The first won’t make you feel better, but I suggest that your approach is to accept it like a law of physics: 

If you weather this storm of feeling you will continue to have bad experiences, but there is also a guarantee that you will also have good days, experiences, and relationships too. 

The second invokes some positive subconscious re-organizing, but with time can help you re-align; If our feelings of accomplishment are tied to our perception of success, then I urge you to redefine what success is, and ask yourself: 

Do you enjoy the company you keep, and if so, are you working on being good to those who you love? (Yes = know you are succeeding) 

What do you have that counts as a solid foundation now? The people, the place, the work you can count on? (Any answers = know you are succeeding) 

Can you isolate what activities give your day meaning? Can you take small strides to work more on what you love so that your weeks are driven by meaning? (Yes = know you are succeeding) 

Your life is your personal trajectory of time, and you can affect its narrative arc. In the grand scheme of things when you consider your past do you remember what you have done or what you did not have? The thing that is actually worth keeping “tabs” on is if you're building relationships and experiences that feel healthy for you, and that also serve the external world around you positively. 

I gently suggest you write your own list of reminder questions that align with your personal values so that you can answer them on days that are hard. So that you can move closer to a trajectory that truly highlights the unique path that is meaningful for you. 

While I work on my little projects at home during Covid, I am acutely aware that I am not where I believed I would be in 2021. Like you I am restricted. What I am grateful for is that I am infusing my energy into music again, using the time I might not have had otherwise. I know that I am slowly gaining hours as a pilot towards a new license. Maybe this work will pay off, maybe it is enough to give my own weeks a narrative arc that is built from my own meaning. I would never have flown a plane or played a rock show if I had held too tightly to what was “expected” of me. I remember I am lucky to have my support system virtual and otherwise, and this continues to fill my heart. 

You should know that just by showing up you are succeeding. You deserve to feel success surrounding achievable goals you set for yourself every day. Remember that investing a small amount of energy each day into something you love, will eventually build a life you can feel good about. The flip side to the impossibility of our subconsciously programmed landmarks, is that if you do let go of these ideals, for a moment you experience freedom. You get to feel good about building your own dreams, in which the markers of failure and success are yours. 

Tell me how you feel! Does this align? DM me @cleaanais on Insta

*this is a think piece not medical advice, I encourage seeking professional help if that speaks to you!

Michael Kiwanuka COLD LITTLE HEART Cover by Clea Anais (Big Little Lies)

Cold Little Heart by British songwriter Michael Kiwanuka is such a moving song, lyrically and musically, it was what inspired me to try performing a cover in the first place, so thank you to the original artist.

The concert bells were a curious donation by a neighbour, and it was a fun opportunity to try them out.

Independent music grows when listeners share at a grassroots level, so let me know if you forward this, and I will send you a treat! I exist @cleaanais on insta.

Thank you to:

Jarret Mayo - guitar

Janelle Cheyene Watling (Magic Boom) - camera/cool dress,
and for their company in this endeavour.

Clea

ICE RINK - Clea Anaïs

I never saw this path

This dew drop from the ether

Landing, invading, spreading. 

That the air would clear

Or that I could exalt 

A happy sigh again

You linger still

A smoke screen, 

a filter of agony, not romance

On hard days I breathe sharply

But the balance is swaying

It’s a fresh spring day in the park

The swings creek, the ice has become glossy

As kids we used to race laps in our bare feet

on the outdoor rink as it melted

I felt pain long before your time

and I never quit those races

I guess we were training

Wearing out our tender skin

while learning how to laugh again

We would hurtle onto the side-bank snow

Bellies to the air 

Clasping our pink soles

In those fragmented seconds

somehow losers and winners

Deep in childhood freedom

Nincompoops full of grace

HOW TO CAPTURE MAGIC IN THE RECORDING PROCESS …and 3 reasons why it's worth the time

There’s definitely a sequence of steps to creating a great record, and I am excited to peel back those layers in time, but right now, in the space suspended between Christmas 2020 and the start of a hopeful New Year, I want to talk for a moment about where the magic happens. 

Like any type of creative, it is easy to get deep in the work, to become bound with intent, and fixated on the macro and micro details of a project. When you have invested everything you have, and more, into getting your material ready for a recording studio, it can be hard to not hold fast to your expectations and how you want things to unfold. This pressure becomes worse when paying an expensive studio day rate while watching the clock run down on your available time. So logically, I am a big advocate of preparation. Maybe it has to do with getting the most out of the experience, or perhaps it is out of respect for the people who are choosing to invest their time in your project, either way, it’s worth having a plan to nail down the fundamentals for what you have prepared first.

What I have found though, over the years, is that it is super important to allocate a large chunk of time to experiment. Really! That undirected space is where the real magic happens, and here are the reasons why: 

1) Each person you have trusted to be a collaborator in the process (including your engineer), arrives with a wealth of personality and experience that will broaden the scope of what you do. 

You will work with people whose aesthetic taste does not align with yours, or whose abilities are different than what you expected. Regardless, the journey that has brought each contributor to this moment is built from a special series of personal preferences; growing up listening to certain genres of music, comfortability with suspended endings or dissonant chords, or nostalgia for easy listening major endings and a basic four on the floor. It is inevitable that we are each imprinted by sound in unique ways, so we each bring a unique voice to the work at the table. 

Do you remember the telephone game, or those little flip drawing books where you just see the end of what the last person has drawn and you use it to create what comes next on the page? 

When you hand over an outline to another creative they get to fill in the colours and detail from their unique perspective. Inevitably, it is different than what you would have done, but this process envelops a single person’s idea in more complex and intriguing layers, building an expansive universe that can be whittled down later into a final product.

2) By leaving open time and space for creative play, you move from cerebral planning/executing mode to experimental/listening mode.

It can be a challenge to watch your ideas splattered by sonic imitations of Jackson Pollock, but beyond the initial hump, allowing space for experimentation gives other players the opportunity to process and expand on their contribution. It gives the chance to align a musical idea with a new instrument and its characteristics, to explore tone and melodic variation. A session player can take time to apply their experience to deliver the best iteration of an idea, or create something completely different that you never would have envisioned. 

The gift of this process is that you have to listen in a focused way with fresh ears. There is the opportunity for excitement, and to discard the intrinsic assumptions you have developed about your creation, through renewed experimentation . Here, you can evaluate if the interpretation of others aligns with your intended output, and see if what you initially tracked is landing how you hoped. 

3) In the long term you give yourself the gift of being continuously surprised, even if you are the creative source for the work. 

When you take a step back and give others the space to contribute creatively, there is the opportunity to view and learn about your work through new eyes. This is the space in which you move from “work” to creativity, and I truly believe that that translates into tangible energy that is imprinted in a good track. 

Once upon a time this magic was created by a band recording live, breathing together, and the challenge of everyone executing a performance from top to bottom as a team. In a digital age, music can be made where each element is individually tracked until it is perfect, then a computer can further align tempo, pitch, and adjust everything else conceivable. This sterility can be combated when you leave time to tonequest using different gear, by recording ambient sounds from objects on hand, or by making time to improvise new parts on instruments you don't play. What we do have in our digital age is a newfound freedom to re-track, and capture the magic within moments of innovation. Giving creative leeway to session musicians, and engineers who have dedicated their lives to becoming experts in their craft, means each contributor can be excited about their creative imprint on a project. The aliveness of this open, collaborative process captures the almost imperceptible energy of the people in the room, the molecules in high vibration when everything about a take aligns. 

When I listen back to the records I have made (well over a decade’s worth), I am nostalgic for the parts I expect and know best, but the real sugar comes in the form of treat surprises, the detail work of the people I shared those experiences with. It’s in the moves I wouldn’t have chosen, the tones that were, at that time, outside of my comfort zone. Many of these musical choices I questioned at the time, but now my collection of albums is laced with magic left by people who I love, by the moments where they speak to me in the quirky language of musical mannerism. 

I take the same chance with this writing process. I put my microcosm of ideas out into our shared world in my way, and the excitement lies in knowing those thoughts will be absorbed into different realities by each reader. If I am lucky that bridge will reconnect back, and I will get to hear from you. Drop me a line, I would love to know what your experience has been as a creator. Follow me at @cleaanais on Instagram.

Until next time! 

Clea