Long Time Coming •

I have to apologize to my readers because it has been a few months since my last post. This is due to so much going on with the music – writing and learning new songs as well as playing more venues. Some of the dates involved going on the road which has been awesome but very time consuming. But now that I’m back and the dust has settled – I’ve got some new text for you. You’ll be able to hear some new songs soon at a date at Cardero’s in Vancouver (Sept 10) and keep your ear open for a new podcast, including some live material from my road trip.

Touring in Toronto

Toronto is a great place to play. It’s been a long time since I’ve played out in Ontario and I have to say I really enjoyed it. The first thing I noticed was that the people in Toronto are very hip – I know they have always been (or at least considered themselves as) leaders in fashion, culture, etc., but in many ways, it’s true!

Although they are in the east, people in Toronto are now totally “west coast”, which is a positive paradox. There seems to be a lot going on in the arts – there is a very vibrant music scene. There are tons of venues with live music on Queen Street – and with diverse acts as well. Ontario also has many festivals during the summer and throughout the year.

I finally realized why they call it going “down east”.  I never understood this term because it always seemed contradictory to me. East and west are lateral and north and south are vertical - so how can you have both? I’ve never heard of a person going on a date and asking for someone to “go west on them”. But if you look at a map you will see that southern Ontario is much farther south than any other part of Canada. Down east - who knew?!

Murky Waters

I did some swimming in one of the great lakes while I was out there. I was a bit weary of this at first because of the pollution. However, the local residents assured me that it was perfectly safe. I was told that most of the cancer around there stemmed from all the power lines above where we stayed. “Don’t worry, Robbie,” they said as they stood on the shore waving with hands containing anywhere from two to seven fingers…

One day when I was swimming there was a lot of excitement because I saw a fish in the water. The people wanted to get CNN down there to document the sighting - they even tried to contact Jacques Cousteau but before they could we found out that it was only a Pepsi can.

Taxed Twin

Starting July 1st, Ontario instituted the HST (Harmonized Sales Tax) – and at 13%. It was interesting to talk to people out there about this because in BC we have been told not to worry about the HST because they are getting it in Ontario. Supposedly the people out there have had a lot of consultation about it and they are ok with the HST…

Guess what – people in Ontario are mad as hell about the HST. And not only do they say that they were told very little about it – the provincial government had said earlier that there would be no new taxes. Sound familiar?

However, it was nice to find out that we are not alone here and that we have more than style, culture and arts in common with our eastern people. And I love the brick buildings, too…

© Robbie Burns
www.RobbieBurnsReturns.com

Pleasure or Poison •

Is it my imagination or are there a lot of squirrels around lately? They add to a wilderness feel of the neighbourhood, but there are so many of them, it seems like their numbers might be yet another signal of an environmental imbalance – another dead canary in the coal mine. Everyone has a different reaction though, as it appears that one man’s visit from a fluffy friend may well be another man’s rabid rodent infestation…

When I was a kid I thought they were so cute. One of them would visit our house and I would feed it nuts right out of my hand – until he bit me and I had to get a rabies shot. They look nice but I think they are basically evil, probably like Angelina Jolie – at least that’s what women tell me. I think it’s just our natural prejudice against beauty because I doubt she would take my nuts, much less bite them if they were offered to her …

Night of the Dead

On one of my recent walks I noticed one of the little beggars running by with what appeared to be another small squirrel in its mouth. I didn’t think these guys were carnivorous – or cannibals for that matter. After that sighting, I was having nightmares about the squirrels gorging on the eyes and extremities of the corpses in the woods. But I was cured with self-hypnosis. When I went to bed at night I repeated to myself that it was a mother carrying its baby…

The diet of a squirrel must be pretty bad. Being scavengers down at the lower end of the food chain, they would have to be fairly toxic. They’re eating all the bottom feeders that are surviving on garbage and mill tailings, etc., so their systems must be fairly putrid. I think I’ve seen them glowing as they scamper along the trees on the trails.

Clashes with Nature

During one of my earlier experiences of living in the suburbs, I had a neighbour who fed a pack of raccoons that lived under their house. I guess they were thinking of Ricky the Raccoon, or some animated character from their childhood. It was no cartoon though, seeing what they did to one of the kitties from the cul-de-sac. I don’t think the realtor mentioned it to the new owners who bought the place when the raccoon farmers moved on…

Down at the beach at the other end of park near my house, I’ve seen people feeding the ducks. Now, that’s great for the ducks but when the ducks are on the beach, the coliform count goes way up and beaches can be closed to swimmers. Of course the ducks probably had major indigestion from the Carmel corn these people were giving them, but it didn’t seem to be much of a deterrent. Diabetic Drakes??

Then you’ve got the people who see a bear and stop the car so the kids can get out and try to play with them. As reckless as that sounds, as I write this, I am beginning to see some logic in it – maybe we should try that with our kid…

Santa in Spring

Although our actions with the creatures are intended to be compassionate, they can be misguided, even arrogant. To think that nature will conform to our logic, rather than the other way around is expecting a lot. However, I will give $100 cash to anyone who can ride a deer down the lane behind my house (live - no rentals or wrangled ones allowed) and provide supporting photo documentation, Youtube, etc., of the event.

While I’m waiting to see this happen, I’ll check with the local animal control department for any potentially conflicting regulations. I don’t want to be encouraging any rogue events. In the meantime, I’m going to continue to enjoy nature as the seasons change – but I’ll make a donation to the animal shelter before I try feeding the critters!

© Robbie Burns
www.RobbieBurnsReturns.com

Blood from a Stone •

Toiling over my taxes in February? Yes, but please understand that my early start is motivated only by the prospect of a quick refund. File early, receive remittance early. At least that is my theory. Of course this may well translate into: file early, bring attention to yourself and get audited right away. Either way, financial issues and current economic trends generate a lot of worry for me, so it’s not a great time of year.

On the morning of February 10, two days before the commencement of the 2010 Olympic Games (hosted in our spectacular city, Vancouver) my anxiety was peaking. Contributing to my angst was a plugged toilet… Our uncooperative commode was acting up earlier in the week, but that morning it became completely blocked – precisely in time to coincide with the climax of the fiscal rectitude revealed in my tax preparation – and the following events:

Agony and Ecstasy •

The phone was ringing, messages were coming in electronically – “Get out there, the Olympic torch is coming to your street! Respond! Respond! As I was drowning in numbers, forms and visions of humourless tax auditors and investigators, the water was unabatedly rising higher and higher in my belligerent biffy. Then the church bell across the street began loudly pealing.

Horns were honking and the commotion was disrupting my descent into an accounting abyss. The distraction brought me back to my other job – the plumbing vigil – and forced me to view the contents that were about to emerge from my toilet amidst needling phones, looming deadlines, voices and cheers calling out – something was definitely underway outside…

Remembering all the talk of “once in a lifetime” opportunities, I abandoned all my worldly trials – cerebral and bowel alike – and jumped up on the bed in order to view over the hedge and see the street below. And lo and behold, there was the Olympic torch. The Olympic torch aflame and adrift right in front of my home! This was no illusion – it was the revered torch – carried in the hand of a certified, Olympic sanctioned and attired bearer (no noticeable duct tape) right before my eyes. (The irony of profound events unexpectedly finding us in the midst of our material mayhem was not lost on me.)

I didn’t have time to get my camera – I don’t have a camera. But I do have a memory and the sight will be emblazed upon it forever. Like a shooting star, the pageantry suddenly appeared and vanished just as quickly. In its wake I was left alone with my memories and a rude world of toilets and taxes.

During my distraction, mercifully, I was spared the flood. The contents of the loo remained contained and settled to a nonthreatening level. One crisis passed – now back to the forms. Trying to squeeze every conceivable deduction onto the paper, my head began to swim with discussions of Olympic cost overruns, ticket scandals and the “travesty” of the exclusion of the female ski jumpers (quote from local hero, Olympic proponent and Senator, Nancy Greene). Wait a minute – I’m filling out these forms so I can pay for all of this!!

Just as this realization struck – the bells of the church began to ring once more. Again, I ignored the phones, let loose the ledgers and ran up to the bedroom window to peer. The torch materialized again! This time going in the other direction, the triumphant torch appeared with cheering children who were waving flags and emitting eternal smiles.

Greener on the Other Side of the Hedge •

Over the last few days I had been hearing stories of citizens being transformed, lives irrevocably altered – even souls saved after witnessing the torch. Naturally, I’m a proud Canadian, but I’ve never been a “joiner”, a “follower” or a consumer of most manufactured mainstream conventions. But even as a self-proclaimed iconoclast, I was not prepared for the impact this visitation delivered. Perhaps if you are tangled in taxes and toilets, you’re an easy convert. At that moment it wouldn’t take much to offer more promise than what I was facing, but I was definitely experiencing an undeniable shift in attitude.

When the party is over, the bill arrives and the fiscal hangover is in full swing, I may feel different about it. But for now I’m going to enjoy the next couple of weeks and give in to the tsunami of nationalism, finish my taxes and bask in the comfort of knowing I am part of something much greater than my own petty struggles. I will also be thankful that I’ve got some great neighbours who helped me get my plumbing issues resolved – now I’m flushed with patriotism and it’s hard to put a price on that!

© Robbie Burns
www.RobbieBurnsReturns.com

By now most of my readers (along with half the people on the planet) will have seen James Cameron’s latest extravaganza, Avatar. Cameron – of which I take pride in the fact that he is Canadian – has again raised the bar for film making, which is both good and bad.

There were some things about the film I really liked. The fact that the principal character was in a wheelchair was very positive. Not seen that often, but a good move forward in expanding the scope of role models to include characters that are not always physically perfect.

The spin on the struggle of an indigenous people against colonialist oppressors was also a good reminder for us. It’s important to be aware of our shameful history of slashing and burning – be it environments or “primitive” people that get in the way of our commercial “progress”. This awareness can help us to be more sensitive to aboriginal cultures and (hopefully) allow us to evolve into a more sensible society than the one James Cameron foresees.

However, as we get soft and fuzzy, Avatar’s unprecedented production levels are going to heighten consumer conditioning and increase our dependency on the spectacular. This is probably not the film-maker’s intent, but regrettably Avatar will contribute to the continuing death of subtlety in mainstream film – as we live by special effects and die by them at the same time.

Remember when the nuance of the motion of an actor’s eyebrow could turn a whole scene? Probably not, but after a show like Avatar, if today’s movie fan isn’t shot out of a cannon while they’re getting an intravenous psychotropic feed, they’re going to get bored. Question: does this form of hyper-entertainment stimulate or stunt the imagination?

Other casualties were the competing smaller film releases that basically disappeared from the radar. Who is going to want to see a fact-based, organic film about a true hero, Nelson Mandela, when they can immerse themselves in fantasy and watch an 8 foot tall, scantily clad model ride a prehistoric bird over a waterfall – in 3D? The big sucking sound you heard was Fox Pictures pulling all the cash out of the pockets of eager theatre goers. Mr. Cameron will need a wallet the size of the Titanic to fit all his money in it. Don’t get me wrong – I’m glad he is successful – I wish he used one of my songs in the film…. I just want to provide a broad perspective of some of the ramifications of JC’s artistic statement.

Even before we start chewing on all the goodies a $300 + million budget will provide, the social sensitivities Avatar explores are worth the price of admission because this kind of film is targeted – not entirely, but primarily – toward a younger demographic. I applaud Mr. Cameron for his progressive thinking and for incorporating positive messages in his screenplay.

But before we give JC the Nobel Prize, let’s not overlook the glaring contradiction. There’s the matter of the 10 million pair of disposable plastic 3D glasses that will be sitting in landfills until we begin mining Unobtainium in real life – and for a thousand years beyond that. But hey, we were able to watch a parable about saving the environment using them so perhaps that squares it …..

Notwithstanding my discomfort with the pollution paradox, I found the film to be technically astounding. Also, a really effective soundtrack by the brilliant James Horner heightened the entertainment experience. If you haven’t seen it, check it out and let me know what you think!

© Robbie Burns
www.RobbieBurnsReturns.com

A Happy New Year to all my readers. Well, we got through another one. Recession, regression, depression and aggression were experienced this year, but overall it turned out to be a good one.

Tips for next year’s Christmas feast – brine your turkey. We tried this for the first time this year and were blown away by the results. This extra step yields succulent meat that stays moist for days on end. Mind you, the $70 we spent on the free range bird probably didn’t hurt…

Just put some salt and spices in a big pot or bucket (large enough to submerge the turkey), boil the water the dissolve the salt, add cold water and put the bird in overnight. The trick is to have a large enough fridge for storage so you can keep it cool over night. Our local weather allowed us to keep it out in our garden shed, although we awoke in the night to sounds that accompanied our nightmares of the gnashing teeth of coyotes and raccoons fighting over raw turkey flesh as its carcass was strewn around our garden. All unfounded thankfully, as the unsettling noises were simply stemming from seasonal indigestion – Christmas pudding and the like.

Because we had the “Recession Christmas”, I decided we would just make gifts for people, as opposed to buying them. This is a great idea because it takes us away from much of the shopping horror and the materialism that comes with the season. If you have teens, they will really love getting a poem or a home made abstract drawing instead of the latest phone or Play Station. (Have your cameras ready for their reactions.)

Not abandoning the materialism theme entirely, I came up with another brainstorm – a cover charge for the guests to help offset the price of the free range turkey. Hey, we’re only talking a couple of bucks and it accomplishes a few important things: it discourages some of the people from coming back, so we don’t have such a big crowd next time and it provides great entertainment watching the tide of indignation rise from the guests as we break the news that they will be “singing for their supper”.

To be fair we had a sliding scale – the big eaters pay more than the dieters – Karl Marx would be proud. After all, it is the time of giving, so I decided to give everybody an invoice for their dinner! We also made a little extra money because granny couldn’t remember paying her share, so we were able to collect two or three times from her alone…

Of course if you are really determined to reduce your guest list in the coming seasons, you can just leave the turkey in the brine solution at room temperature overnight and see how that works on your people. If you go this route, stick to the vegetables for yourself and put your cover charge as high as you can because you may not see the people again. Also you may want to get them to sign a release form prior to serving them the turkey…

Whichever way you decide to go, remember to send in your stories next year and let me know how both the brining and the cover charge work out for you.

© Robbie Burns
www.RobbieBurnsReturns.com

Seasonal Sightings •

Yes, it was an awesome summer all the way around. Looking back, one of the greatest things about where I live is the proximity to the ocean. In a few minutes we can be down at the beach, braving the cool waters of the Pacific. And on one such outing, a quirky encounter occurred with one of my neighbours.

As I was swimming around the small island in the bay, right ahead of me was my neighbour, Nancy, in her kayak. From her perspective, peacefully paddling along, it must be unnerving to have a voice call out her name from the depths (I was swimming solo quite far from shore) and then seeing a goggled face, rising above the surface of the dark water – à la Colonel Kurtz from Apocalypse Now…

Welcome Matted

As the warmer waves lap and the summer winds blow, along with them come a variety of out-of-town guests. One of our visitors – from rural Ontario, a first-timer in BC – was very impressed by the scenery and the variety of vegetation to be found across the Province. He joined us for a lovely BC style salmon BBQ dinner and marveled at our West Coast cuisine.

We were filled with pride as he spoke of our towering mountains and shimmering sea – right up until the conversation drifted to boasts of his illicit agricultural interests back at home and his penchant for substance abuse. Normally, this wouldn’t have an impact, but in front of our impressionable 17 year old, it was unconscionable. His comments came quickly and unexpectedly and, awkward as an aardvark, I could only sputter. With each statement, the teen’s eyes grew with excitement, while the memories of my many “say no to drugs” lectures and their credibility were being shredded like the onions on the salmon sitting in front of me.

During a pause in his diabolical dissertation, he asked me to pass the fish – onions and all. How should I respond? I’m not the designated social censor and the bell had been rung – loudly. Nonetheless, while Mr. Rural-Ontario was dining on my labors and bloating himself up with each tale of debauchery, my goodwill was peeling away, layer by layer.

Bugged

Once a comment is hurled, how it will land is unknown. A 17 year olds’ bliss may be a tarnished role model’s mayhem. However, throughout the evening I emphatically made mention of the numerous nearby incidents of West Nile Virus – and managed to finesse in a few comments about the high PCB and mercury levels in our local fish… Fortunately, he only stayed for dinner and was on his way.

I fared better with the next guest. The only bruising came from being banished from my own kitchen. With great restraint I tried not to take exception to this and called upon a lifetime of discipline to avoid retaliating. It was not until later, when I was being ridiculed for using an electric tooth brush – my generosity began to evaporate. As the weekend wore on, the cumulative effect of these clashes had me walking a fine line between hospitality and hostility.

On her way out, I gave her a tour of the place and made sure she saw at least two bizarre billboard-style warnings of a head lice outbreak among the school children in the area. One of my conscientious neighbours made big hand-made posters complete with magnified pictures of hideous creatures that would make a mountain man quiver – and placed then at all of the entrances to our underground parking.

After just enough time passed to let the paranoia of parasites incubate in her brain, I spoke of the recent sleep-over we had with the school kids – in her guest room. It may have been my imagination, but I was sure I saw her face twitching as she lightly touched her scalp. Needless to say, as much as I love to see them come, I also like to see them go …

Fruitful Times/Pies for Pennants

Apart from the seasonal infestations, sorry – friendly visitations – we’ve had tons of fresh summer fruits and vegetables. Organic fare plucked right from our garden and fresh, delicious blackberries for the picking almost everywhere you walk. For only a few drops of blood you can reach out and grab as many as you like. These bountiful berries can be enjoyed in so many ways, particularly in the baking of pies. My motivation for making pies is twofold: one, because I love to eat them and two, I give them as restitution to those whom I feel I have offended – humble pie.

Age Appropriation

At the end of the season, we host an end-of-summer event. The few respectable attendees usually leave by around 10 or 11, and then the dregs who wear the lampshades begin to come out in full force. The threshold for social deterioration is definitely crossed when the venerable family couch is converted into a bouncy castle for regressive middle-agers.

We were witnessing ancient people with excessive antics that would make teens envious (fortunately no youngsters were present). We only have to look down at the big red stain in the middle of the carpet to recall the slaughter of sensibility. My desperate and futile attempt to soothe the savages was greeted by a slurred chorus of “party- pooper” and “stick-in-mud” actually they were telling me to stick it somewhere else. The next morning, to appease neighbours and stave off possible eviction, the pies were being made with feist and fury…

With the summer faded, I hope all of you had an eventful season and your homes were filled with happy, helpful house guests. Thanks for reading and may  you have an excellent autumn. And listen carefully, the next knock on your door may be announcing a nice pie for you – hopefully you won’t have to be offended in order to receive one!

© Robbie Burns
www.RobbieBurnsReturns.com

During a lifetime of playing the guitar, I’ve had possibly a dozen guitars. I’m not a collector – my relationships with my guitars have essentially been monogamous. I try to find an instrument I can make a connection with and then stick with it and let the relationship evolve. From the very beginning I strictly played electric guitars. My hands are not big or strong and I always found acoustic guitars very hard to play. Additionally, I played a lot of “lead” and single string parts which were more appropriate for the electric.

A few years ago I was sitting around my girlfriend/future wife’s house and picked up her son’s student acoustic guitar which was a $75, ¾ sized Fender Squier. Naturally, the instrument had limitations, but it was the first acoustic guitar I played that I could actually get around on. About the same time, I had started singing my own material (as opposed to writing for other artists). My objective was to be able to sing and accompany myself in solo singer/songwriter format in an acoustic setting. In some ways it was “slumming” but at the time, the Squier was the perfect practice guitar.

One of my first attempts to test some of my material was at a house party/acoustic music event. Everyone had these fancy guitars with mother of pearl finishes – and they were big – jumbos, maybe. My turn to play came and I started the song on the Squier and immediately felt as though I was in a dream sequence. It was one of those frustration nightmares where you are running from a guy with an axe, but your legs aren’t moving. Only this was real and I was playing the axe, not being chased by it – and I couldn’t hear it. Add in the thick carpet I was standing on and the big, overstuffed furniture I was placed amongst and you couldn’t hear my vocals either.

Hey, I had the most sophisticated parts of anyone there – moving bass lines, tasty substitutions, and strong material – but no one could hear it. I ended my song and quickly packed up my stuff… Of course the zipper on the case for my $75 guitar was stuck and I had to wrestle with it for an interminable period of time before I get it open, pack it up and complete my escape.

The next day I went guitar shopping. I tried a lot of guitars, dreadnought, jumbo, cutaway, f-holes, electric/acoustic – I even took one home that made my hand black every time I played it. The kid at the store told me they never heard of anything like that before, so there must be something wrong with my hand …

Finally, I settled on a Yamaha acoustic/electric, which for the price was a pretty good guitar and it suited my needs at the time. However, later I was in the studio recording my EP, Robbie Burns Returns. During the initial recording of the first few guitar tracks, the Yamaha was showing some limitations and the engineer/producer of the session, who is an accomplished guitar player himself, suggested the Taylor.

The next day I went to the local Taylor dealer and tried one. There wasn’t a large selection, but the first one I picked made me feel like I had just come home. When I started playing it, the kid from the store and I looked at each other and said …whoa! The instrument had a great feel and a beautiful sound. The minute I played it I wanted it and I needed to take it home with me – the same way I felt about my wife the day I met her …

During the recording of my EP, I used the guitar (416 CE) on all the tracks. If you listen to “Story in the Snow” (especially the CD version over the mp3), the Taylor shines. This song is a beautiful showcase for this guitar. “Story” is primarily one guitar with some secondary parts interspersed, but it sounds very big throughout. The Taylor sounded so good, I re-recorded the Yamaha tracks – at considerable additional effort and expense. If you listen closely to the EP, I am sure you will agree it was worth it.

There are a number of different feels and applications of the instrument on this EP and the guitar sounds very different in each setting – although I have the same standard tuning and use a pick on every song. The maximum number of guitar tracks is only two, but when you listen to “When was the Last Time”, it sounds like much more. In some places it sounds like an electric – but the guitar was recorded completely acoustically. For this project, my writing style employs a lot of open strings and minor second intervals and the Taylor provides the perfect sound for this as well.

The next thing I wanted to do was try the Taylor live. The first thing I needed was the right amplification system. A friend of mine (a great guitar player), Brian Nova, uses the Bose system and recommended it. The people at the store that carried it didn’t seem to know much about it, but what I had heard and seen online was almost enough for me to make a decision. Then I thought about being drowned out at that acoustic night/house party affair, and I said, “wrap it up, I’ll take it” – just like I said to my future wife on our first date…

My first gig with it was a low-key singer/songwriter night featuring four different acts. When I started playing – solo guitar and voice with the Taylor/Bose L1 combination – the people who came with me that were sitting in the back of the venue had their mouths open. All agreed later that the guitar sparkled. And the other artists were all blown away. Some admittedly, others begrudgingly – but each of them were blown away none-the-less.

After I bought the guitar, I called Taylor and told one of the technicians that they should be very proud for producing this instrument. I am sure they are – as they have every right to be. BB King may have Lucille, but I’ve got the Taylor – and my gorgeous wife!

© Robbie Burns
www.RobbieBurnsReturns.com

Inner Piece •

I’ve been to the top of the mountain in search of the wise man. I’ve looked into the abyss through the lens of peyote and malt whisky and I read Nietzsche and Sartre (ok, not all of it). After years of thought and analysis, I have finally come up with a way to save the world – or at least a small part of it.

Return your calls (and email messages)!! This may appear to be a small step for human kind, but this minute action has the potential to move mountains.

“Mother, mother – there’s a message from the school about young Adolph’s behavior. You’re supposed to call the principal right away.” Imagine if Adolph’s mum had taken the time to return that call. But she was too busy listening to the “Simpsons” on the voice of Germany… No doubt there are many wars taking place today – military, social, trade – simply because somebody didn’t do the follow up.

Beyond having the ability to change the course of our own history and those around us (if we needed more than that to motivate), we need to recognize that a non-response is not a neutral action. A non-response carries implications, real or surmised, and they can be profound.

Neglect is a Form of Abuse

Regrettably, the implications for someone not responding to our messages are negative. When our calls go unanswered, our thought process may optimistically start with:

Gee, she’s not calling me back because she had such a good time on our date last night – it’s probably going to take her a couple of weeks to get over it. I’m sure I’ll hear from her then. Or, the prospective employer must have loved my resume so much they needed to take a few days off to digest it, they’ll get back to me with good news soon. Even this – after reading my material from my new sit-com proposal, the executives at NBC are laughing too hard to get to the phone, but surely they will be in touch any time now…

Then the thoughts shift to uncertainty: Perhaps they never got my message. Maybe they’re just busy right now. A big dog probably chased the mailman away the day my letter was to be delivered and it had to be rerouted, so it’s just taking a bit longer…

And finally we sink to inevitable assumptions like: They hate me, they don’t want me, they’re not interested in my material and I never should have contacted them in the first place…

Given the potential for this downward arc, even a meager response like, “I’m too busy to respond right now”, might ward off an inevitable decent into unrequited message hell. But don’t hold your breath for it.

Sorry – That Option is not Available

After a lifetime of conversations, contacts and messages, I have boiled it down to four primary categories of responders (and non-responders).

The Caring: Those who attach importance to human contact and place a priority on responding and attempting to respond – even with bad news. We love these people. They emanate dignity, respect and elevate self esteem wherever they go. One wonders why we all wouldn’t strive to be in this category – doesn’t everyone want world peace?

The Overwhelmed: People who are too busy, or think they are too busy to return calls. This is a confusing category because most overwhelmed people are time-management challenged as opposed being legitimately snowed-under. If this sounds familiar, get your priorities in order and remember – your mother is not spam…

The Aristocrats: These people are selective about who they respond to. They generally feel they are too important to return messages. If you are actually that important, get your secretary to return your calls. If your secretary is too busy, try to get over yourselves, arrogance is so 90’s.

The Flakes: Those who attach no importance to responding to messages. These are the people who arbitrarily pick five to ten percent of calls to return. However, if a representative of Angelia Jolie and Brad Pitt contacted them with an invitation to dinner, they would quickly upgrade themselves into category number one, “The Caring”. Add the word “loser” to the end of any message you leave them – you might actually get a call back.

Out of the Area Code

There is one other sub-category of non-responders, but this is a very small group. These are the people who simply don’t want to be found – witness protection program participants, fugitives from the law and counter-cultural types.

One example of the latter is Lenny Breau. Most Canadians are not aware of him, but Lenny was the greatest guitar player in the history of Canada and one of the most innovative players that ever picked up the instrument – worldwide. Lenny was a complicated, conflicted artist who lived outside convention both musically and socially. If someone wanted to talk to Lenny, they might have to hire a private investigator to find him – and that included close friends. Or so they say … So for guys like Lenny, we don’t leave messages – but very few of us are in that group, so claiming this category won’t be a credible excuse.

Nicky Don’t Loose that Number

The most important thing to grasp is that inaction can create major reactions. You don’t want to be the person who stood by when you could have done something to make a difference in yours or the lives of others. And I can’t imagine that any of us want people to assume that we are incompetent, incapable, indifferent or arrogant, so let’s all return our calls – and make the world a better place!

© Robbie Burns
www.RobbieBurnsReturns.com

After playing electric guitar in band settings for a long time, I made an interesting and rewarding transition over to the acoustic format. For some situations I’ll play in a band but in many others I am doing a solo/acoustic set.
Having a band is still nice because there are more voices and sound to work with but when you get down to the fundamentals – the man with his guitar and a story to tell – it’s very pure. And if you can get it right, the raw, stripped down sound and performance can be very powerful.

When I think of the classic singer/songwriter genre in its organic form, guitar and voice (and less commonly piano and voice), a number of things immediately come to mind:

More than any other genre, it is very story-centric. It really boils down to the story and how it is being told. Whether it’s about love, history, politics or social commentary, it starts – and ends – with the story.

Then we have the presentation. The purity of a basic presentation – guitar and voice – is something that appeals to me. It’s not about some uber-arranger making us dizzy with production techniques or overwhelming us with their sounds and instrumentation choices.  We are required to focus in on the most basic, bare format, and this allows the story to speak so directly to us – intimately, independently, and immediately.

When the writer/performer sits down for us, solo with no filter, it is demanding of the audience, but also rewarding. And as an acoustic, solo artist, you have to work that much harder to lay it down on your own with only one instrument – and who can you blame if anything goes sideways?

The next thing for me is how the voice tells the story. I place much more importance on how well the singer tells the story than how “great” the singing is. Because of this, there is probably more room for individuality in this genre than in any other I can think of.

Then there is the accompaniment. How has the writer supported his story with harmonics, rhythm and melody? For me, this is one of the key elements of a great presentation of a song. Are they using the guitar like a band? In what interesting and innovative ways are they utilizing their instrument?

There’s a lot to listen for and a lot to hear. The more I write this, the more I want to hear some nice singer/songwriter material – so I’ll stop now and turn on some tunes . Perhaps you will want to do the same.