Well, one new cover and one old cover I realized was never shared aside from an old Hometapes holiday compilation.
Things are generally quiet as I’m focused on the band more than anything else in my music world. There were a couple weeks where the other guys were busy so I did work up a cover of a Neil Young song called “Great Divide”. I’ve always thought his “Silver and Gold” album was quite underappreciated.
I also noticed that I never put up a Rudolph claymation cover in the Bandcamp ‘release’ of covers I called “Covers and Counting”. Keep in mind these have been recorded in a variety of formats over well over a decade now, so there’s not a lot of cohesion in fidelity, but occasionally it’s fun to just fiddle with a cover and sometimes even record it.
A link to the folder of covers on Bandcamp is here. I’ll also update the zip files here on the site.
Hi all, excited to share this before the year comes to a close. Flocking 23 is a collection of recordings assembled from live sampler performances from the shows I played in Chicago, Milwaukee, and Madison in the fall of 2023. No step sequencing. No ‘pressing play’. Just me and a sampler. I asked my friend Josh Mason if he wanted to take a stab at some art and I’m happy it’s all come together.
As normal, you can download this in MP3 and WAV format if you go to my releases page. Feel free to send some money my way if that’s important, it’s certainly appreciated, but don’t feel it’s necessary. Otherwise, if you want to sample or purchase through Bandcamp, it’s available there too. Info and words from Josh below his art.
Info
fifteen
optical_flow
lodest
lodest_tape
sz_fa
sz_fa_tape
23_sampleref
23.09 develop 23.10 record 23.11 breathe 23.12 edit 24.01 sweeten 24.02 breathe 24.03 re-sweeten 24.12 art
Assembled from live sampler performances from the following shows:
23.10.19 @ tritriangle, chicago, il, usa 23.10.20 @ the jazz gallery, milwaukee, wi usa 23.10.21 @ communication, madison, wi usa
Sound by Connor Bell Sweetening by Greg Davis Art by Josh Mason
Words from Josh:
i was thinking about when connor had asked me to make some digital flyers for a run of shows he was playing in the midwest (which ended up being the source material for this release) and it reminded me of all the hours i spent in kinkos as a younger person over the years making flyers for shows, and given that i wanted to do something with my hands for this (and eschew the speed of digital construction almost entirely, which he graciously tolerated over too long a time period) i decided to still work with “photocopiers” by employing toner transfers with solvents in order to create an assemblage of what felt like handbills (and was loosely, or subconsciously influenced, by constructivist works) and took it a step further by drawing parallels to the angularity of the flocking material…hard cuts, waveform discontinuities, etc.
Hi all, I spent some time this year working on more ‘horn’ recordings. Strangely, these sort of evolved into duet recordings. Not my intention, but it felt right and I’ve increasingly learned to work as intuitively as possible. Many thanks to Tim Barnes for cultivating that mindset within me.
If you navigate over to the ‘releases’ page, there is a direct zip link at the bottom which includes 320 kbps MP3s and 24/96 WAVs, or you can check it out on Bandcamp. Feel free to Paypal me at shedding.sounds@gmail.com if you’d like to throw me some money. Or not. It’s never been about that. Thanks to my friends for being involved. Art and info below.
Connor Bell – sound Guy Birkin – art Josh Mason – text layout Billy Gomberg – words
This turned into a series of duets, but the idea is the same, so the text Billy wrote for “This Is My Horn, Vol. 1” remains a good summary of what I’m trying to do:
Most musicians have a passion for listening that matches their passion for playing. Tracing the influences and reflections that end up on a single recording can be a messy task if we commit to real geography of the phenomenon, instead of the poetic, abstracted interpretation we end up listening to and weaving into our own archives.
Connor Bell has been practicing and playing and releasing music for a while (as Shedding and in various bands), and on TIMH he connects his own listener’s passion and musician’s commitment into process and product. Working from his love of solo jazz recordings, Connor approached a design of his synthesizer as something capable of gestures that move through texture and a free sense of melody. An instrument he can play, a language we hear and start to understand.
Leaning back into a wistful bearing on easy tempo solos, Connor’s performance finds overlays of timbre like mutated multiphonics, resisting calm while gathering a soft neon glow as edges appear, suddenly bristling or momentarily melancholy. Given his intention, Connor’s solos hold an inviting space to a listener – robust and skilled, this is deceptively complex music keeping a room warm for you.
Hi all, pleased to share this first release in a series I hope to periodically revisit called “This Is My Horn”. Cover and info below. I’ve also amended some of my approach and all releases are freely available on the Releases page. I will, for now, continue to post them on Bandcamp as well. Thanks to my friends who helped and are credited below.
Connor Bell – sound Guy Birkin – art Josh Mason – text layout Billy Gomberg – words
Most musicians have a passion for listening that matches their passion for playing. Tracing the influences and reflections that end up on a single recording can be a messy task if we commit to real geography of the phenomenon, instead of the poetic, abstracted interpretation we end up listening to and weaving into our own archives.
Connor Bell has been practicing and playing and releasing music for a while (as Shedding and in various bands), and on TIMH he connects his own listener’s passion and musician’s commitment into process and product. Working from his love of solo jazz recordings, Connor approached a design of his synthesizer as something capable of gestures that move through texture and a free sense of melody. An instrument he can play, a language we hear and start to understand.
Leaning back into a wistful bearing on easy tempo solos, Connor’s performance finds overlays of timbre like mutated multiphonics, resisting calm while gathering a soft neon glow as edges appear, suddenly bristling or momentarily melancholy. Given his intention, Connor’s solos hold an inviting space to a listener – robust and skilled, this is deceptively complex music keeping a room warm for you.