Tag Archives: michael teager

Thank You, Philadelphia

It’s been a week since Matt Borghi and I returned home to East Lansing from our promotional tour of Philadelphia. (Matt wrote some great reflections and thoughts here and here.) I’ve wanted to post something but have been quite busy catching up on grading and other work. That, and I’m still taking it all in. To say that our trek was memorable is an understatement. It’s hard to select just a few things to mention, but I’ll do what I can. While I’d love to gush on and on about every minor detail, neither you nor I have the time. Instead of giving the play-by-play, there are a some overall feelings and impressions that are worth discussion. What I was most struck by throughout the weekend was the tremendous sense of community.

I’ve performed for many audiences over the years in a great many styles and in a great many places, from academic to public to corporate and everything in between. However, I must say that I don’t think I’ve ever been – with or without Matt – surrounded by and performed for such an active, engaged, and thoughtful community as my time in Philly. Jason Sloan told Matt and me that we’d be spoiled rotten, and he couldn’t have been more accurate. As mentioned in my last post, we performed a set at The Gatherings Concert Series along with Dave Luxton and Vic Hennegan, a live overnight set on WXPN’s historic Star’s End, and a Living Room Concert and interview on PRI’s prestigious Echoes. That was an exciting enough schedule, but the experience itself was unparalleled.

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It wasn’t just the size of the audience, as that varied for everything (a couple hundred+ at The Gathering, a dozen-ish in the studio at Star’s End, and a cast/crew of two for Echoes). The common thread for all was a mixture of:
engagement: They bought in. The listeners came along with us on our musical journey, as opposed to simply watching us play our instruments
• contextual knowledge: They got it. It’s not that I was wearing a tweed jacket and pontificating about art all weekend, but I talked with many folks about a wide range of musical topics including some common themes of the blog. And it wasn’t just about academic content and history, but rather many in attendance knew what we were going for and could discuss it intelligently.
• support: They cared. The ambient scene in Philly is not only strong but special. Its members know that they’ve cultivated something unique, and have banded together to ensure that it continues. (For an interesting look into that, watch the videos here.) A number of attendees traveled quite a distance, including one couple who drove from Rochester, NY. And it was a welcome change of pace to meet and talk with people who knew our names and music!
• lack of ego: Neither of the other performing acts nor the other artists in attendance got competitive. Matt and I, Luxton, and Hennegan all presented varying styles, and not once did I get a sense that one act was out to best another.

I like to joke that when Matt and I perform public ambient sets we generally have two people actively watching, one of whom doesn’t care. It felt so great to escape that for a few consecutive performances. The Gatherings audience was akin to those attending an academic recital or a contemporary music concert. The only difference is that they weren’t there to intellectualize it, only to take it in. All this and I haven’t yet mentioned the gorgeous venue The Gathering, St. Mary’s Hamilton Village in Philadelphia. The acoustics were superb and visually it was stunning. 

Our Star’s End set was a powerful experience. We were live on the air, playing continuously from 4:00 AM to 5:00 AM, having been up since The Gathering earlier that evening/the night before. Matt and I made some music we’re deeply proud of, and we were surrounded by a small but attentive crew and private audience. The time flew by; we were in the music all the while. The feeling in the room when we were finished is hard to describe, but suffice it to say that it won’t be easy to recreate any time soon. We’re greatly indebted to Star’s End host and alchemist Chuck van Zyl for making those two experiences possible. Chuck really rolled out the red carpet for us, and all of his thorough work and assistance during the weeks leading up to our visit meant a great deal. He made both Matt and myself feel like part of the Philly family. (And while I’m gushing over Chuck, thanks to him once again for the nice review of Convocation several months back!) And thanks to Art, Jeff, and Royce for the mixing and sound, and to Rich for the videography.

Monday 10.21 included our stop by Echoes studios for our Living Room Concert and interview. Host John Diliberto and producer/engineer Jeff Towne couldn’t have been more gracious hosts. We performed a Living Room Concert comprised of three selections from Convocation with brief interviews to accompany each. Afterwards we put down our axes and enjoyed a lengthy, thoughtful interview. John asked some insightful and interesting questions, and about knocked me off of my chair when he told me he saw Lookout Farm twice (!!) in the mid-70s. (The jealousy has since remained deep in my bones.) Our episode will air sometime in November or December; stay tuned for more official information. Off the mic, our conversation with both John and Jeff was just as engaging and enjoyable. It was a true honor for both Matt and I, and we can’t thank John and Jeff enough for the opportunity.

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It’s worth noting that Jeff Towne was intensely working behind the scenes at all three events. He helped to make the whole weekend a pleasurable and memorable one.

 Our trip to Philly was easily one of my favorite musical experiences as a performer. The stars aligned so that not only the music was a success, but also the connections, audience, colleagues, and travel. Of course, looking back, Matt and I see it as our first musical trek to Philly, as we definitely hope to return.

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‘Convocation’ Philadelphia Promo Tour & The Gathering 100

This weekend I’ll be in the Philadelphia area for a promotional tour supporting Convocation, my album with my good friend and collaborator guitarist Matt Borghi. It’s not as much of a “performance” tour as there’s only one “public” show in Philadelphia, but we’ll be hitting up the holy trinity of ambient music outlets: The Gatherings Concert Series, a live set on ambient mainstay Star’s End on Philadelphia’s WXPN, and an Echoes Living Room Concert. If you happen to be in the greater Philadelphia area or that region of the east coast, do check out The Gathering if you’re so inclined. We’re performing an opening set for Vic Hennegan and Dave Luxton, who’ll each be performing solo sets.

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We open the show at 8:00 PM on Saturday 10.19.13 at St. Mary’s Hamilton Village, 3916 Locust Walk on University of Pennsylvania’s campus. The show promises to offer much variety, as we’re all at different points in the “ambient” spectrum and all representing different parts of the country.

Official page with artist information here.

Advance tickets are available at a discount through http://www.ticketweb.com. Proceeds benefit CIMA of PA. For complete details please visit http://www.thegatherings.org.

Following that evening’s performance, all three acts will also perform live on the overnight broadcast of the long-running Star’s End radio show on WXPN. For complete details visit http://www.starsend.org. You can read a nice review of Convocation by Chuck van Zyl of Star’s End here.

Monday morning, before our return trip to the midwest, we’ll have the honor of doing a Living Room Concert at the Echoes studios. We’re humbled and excited to be performing for the two titans of ambient radio.

[Previous entry on Convocation here.]

‘Convocation’ Out Now

Convocation, the new album by Matt Borghi and myself, is now available. I mentioned it a couple posts back when previewing 2013. The album was officially released digitally on January 31, but we’ve been waiting to really advertise it until we approved and finalized the hard copies.

My collaboration with Matt is five years old this year, and it’s been an ongoing reference on this blog. From our time together in The Elevator Conspiracy to our duo work in a variety of genres under both our own names and Teag & PK, we’ve been fighting the good fight – at least if you ask us for our opinion – for a few years now. A couple of last year’s posts were specifically about us. (See here and here.) Long story short, we cover a lot of musical ground. We started out with lounge-ish and jam-ish rock in The Elevator Conspiracy. Then, as a duo, we first explored acoustic indie-rock territory, but quickly pursued a parallel path of ambient-centric improvisation. We’ve continued down both paths the last couple years, but rarely have we mixed them. As Teag & PK, we perform original songs in coffee houses and on the radio. As Matt Borghi & Michael Teager, we explore sound in art galleries and other “listening space” environments. Convocation is an accidental culmination of the latter, and our first full-length album of either style.

I say accidental because we never intended for this to be an album. At least not originally. After a ~6-8 month spurt with our singer/songwriter material last year, we decided to go ambient at the last minute before a gig. (Matt wrote a great article about that evening here.) That gig’s success reinvigorated our ambient leanings, and so we booked some studio time a couple weeks later at Dan Jaquint‘s The Fort. We entered the studio with no plan other than wanting to capture some our new-found spirit. At best, we hoped to walk away with ~15 minutes of usable material for use as a launching point for an eventual album or project down the road. Because of our low expectations, our “rehearsing” consisted of a couple lunches, phone calls, and emails. Matt sent me about six minutes worth of sketches that he had been messing with, but we hadn’t played together since the aforementioned gig. Horn in hand, I noodled with those sketches for about ten minutes. That was it.

Once we were all set to go in the studio, we told Dan that we just wanted to record some chunks of improvisations. With our levels, etc., set, all he really needed to do was start and stop the recording equipment. For the first attempt, we improvised over a recently-composed loop of Matt’s for about 15-20 minutes. Once finished, we looked at each other with much relief – this was going much better than expected. So over the next ninety minutes we laid down four more chunks: two fully improvised without pre-conceived loops, and two fully improvised over loops that Matt had put together since our last gig. We had surprised ourselves and ended up with possibly more than our hoped-for 15-20 minutes of material.

All five of that evening’s sonic treks make up Convocation. Presented in the order in which they were recorded, all of the source material was recorded live. I say “source material” because Matt did some post-production work with the mix and other audiophile-related items, but, except for cutting out some chunks for brevity’s sake, the musical content wasn’t copied-and-pasted together a la Bitches Brew. Over the next several months we contemplated what to do with the material, finally deciding to release it via Matt’s record label Slo.Blor Media – an excellent source for ambient music and sound art.)

For purists, this album arguably may not be a strictly “ambient” work. While the whole album is grounded in an ambient foundation, the focal point, if there is one, is the improvisational monologues and dialogues. That’s where one may possibly hear jazz-ish influences, though don’t waste your time listening for any bop licks. Each of the five tracks is a collective improvisation over soundscapes, two of which were fully improvised and continually change. No “melodies,” “hooks,” or “beats.” Just sound. It’s somewhere in the nexus of ambient, jazz, sound art, and contemporary classical. (The latter if it were notated, but it wasn’t so it’s not.) Again, neither Matt nor I care what you call it. We haven’t even settled on the nomenclature. This is something we’re very proud of and want to share with open, willing ears. What you call it is a distant second to how you receive it.

Please do check it out if you’re interested. Feel free to drop a line if you dig it. And if you feel so inclined, feel free to leave a review on iTunes or Amazon.

Convocation is now available via iTunes, Amazon, eMusic, and Spotify. And you may order a hard copy via Kunaki. For more info, you can visit:
http://slobormedia.org
http://www.mattborghi.com
http://michaelteager.com

Here’s the official press release from Slo.Bor Media:

Convocation is the work of ambient composer Matt Borghi (www.mattborghi.com) and saxophonist Michael Teager (www.michaelteager.com). Recorded as a series of improvisational structures in spring of 2012, this is the first recording that Borghi and Teager have done together after a half-decade of working together.

With Convocation, Borghi brings in spacious guitar textures to create a harmonic fabric for Teager to lay out his saxophone playing with subtlety and nuance. With a background in classical and jazz saxophone, Teager brings a wide palette of influences to the music. Listeners will hear aspects of Jan Garbarek, John Coltrane and Dave Liebman that’s juxtaposed over Borghi’s pastoral guitar sounds that have more of their timbral origins in the work of Claude Debussy or Ralph Vaughan-Williams than they do other contemporary ambient guitarists.

Convocation, as a whole, aims to create a deep and timbrally interesting listening experience while also bringing together an interesting musical pairing and improvisational process. Saxophone and ambient music have never sounded like this, and Borghi & Teager attribute this to their friendship, their approach to the work and their diverse musical interests.

Buy the hard copy CD here now, or you can visit online retailers such as Amazon, iTunes, or eMusic to name just a few…

New Listen: The Fencemen’s ‘Times Are Alright’

[Disclaimer: I am associated with this band and album (one song). But don’t let that fool you; I’m writing from purely a listener’s – fan‘s – perspective.]

Artist: The Fencemen
Album: Times Are Alright (2012)

Get ready to rock. Hard.

Lansing’s The Fencemen have been stomping around Michigan since late 2010. Clocking in at just under 38 minutes, their debut album packs a tight, mean punch. The quartet wrote and recorded Times Are Alright throughout 2011 and into the first part of this year. Although it’s the band’s first album, the individual members are hardly novices, bringing together their years of collective experience performing, recording, and touring with regionally- and nationally-successful acts Small Brown Bike, LaSalle, BiddyBiddyBiddy, and Ettison Clio. I learned of them a few months back when a mutual friend put us in touch, as they were looking to possibly add some horn as the finishing touch to one song. I recorded some tracks at my home studio and sent them off. Having somewhat forgotten about it, I received the finished track (and eventually the whole album) a few weeks later and was floored. And instantly a fan.[1. This is why I’m comfortable writing an objective review: I was quite divorced from the overall process and didn’t really know the band until the record was almost finished. And they in no way asked me to write this.]

This is a rock album, driven by guitars (Mike Reed), bass (Jared Nisch), drums (Dan Jaquint), and vocals (Tyler Blakslee). The band effectively seasons its sonic palette with just enough keys, “horns, tambourines, and foot-stomps” to nicely round out the sound without detracting from the core quartet. Save one song, the auxiliary instruments – handled mostly in-house – adamantly remain in the background. Instruments aside, the music is aggressive, visceral, and catchy. And gritty. You can’t help but tap (stomp!) your feet and shake a tailfeather when listening. It rocks hard throughout and enjoys a fair bit of chaos, but there’s always a melody or hook nearby to grab onto. “Call Me A Crooked Heart” is a wonderful opening volley, carefully setting the tone for the rest of the album. Stomping, guitars, bass, and voice entreat the listener to let loose as the ensemble gently builds through the second verse until exploding into the dark, droning second chorus and outro. There’s no turning back: “Nation & Ghost” then kicks it up a notch or three with Reed’s guitars mounting an all-out assault over the rhythm section’s tribal dance.

Rob Gordon suggests cooling it down a notch for the third track. “Rented Rooms” offers a brief respite with its sampled clarinet introduction, but otherwise it’s right back to rocking. The instrumentation is noticeably augmented here with the prominent use of tenor saxophone (yours truly), wailing above and scurrying about the quartet. It’s “live” implementation is a nice juxtaposition with the earlier sample. After these first three medium-tempo rockers, “New Turks” kicks you into overdrive with an uptempo, optimistic romp, imploring you to “clap [your] hands in victory.” Make sure you’re near a dance floor to do so. “Heart Heart of The City” offers your adrenaline a slight breather, but the contemplative “Violent Domestic” and caffeinated “Soft Spot for the Reckless” get you back to rocking hard.

The final three songs are a climb back towards the light. “Knives,” musically, is perhaps the darkest song on the record. Scratchy timbres and wailing guitars abound. This soundscape abruptly gives way to the anthemic “Get Into the Light,” an arena-rock song if I’ve ever heard one – an epic number with all the fixins: catchy guitar riffs, pounding bass and drums, background vocals, half-time chorus, mellow outro. (You can easily picture the audience singing along with the house lights up.) “Century Blues” closes the album on a joyous note: “This ain’t no concession, this here is a hundred years of light.” Despite the final song’s gradually-building intensity, its optimism and slower tempo offer listeners a first chance to catch their breath – a sigh of satisfaction and accomplishment. After being thrown to the lions, everything’s fine.

To me, the music’s grit is its key ingredient to why it’s so infectious. While minor chords and edgy timbres run rampant like the rats and jackals Blakslee describes, neither the music nor the message are ultimately glum. Supported by an undertow of optimism, the album is a sonic representation of the band’s rustbelt hometown – industrial and downtrodden, but with the resolve to come back swinging harder and stronger than before. Arguably the most effective example of this aesthetic is “Soft Spot for the Reckless.” (And of course it occurs at the Golden Section…) Its dark verses describe “a soft spot for the reckless, a ballad for the damned.” Yet the major-mode choruses and outro speak to resilience: “They don’t move to any piper’s tune…And down on No Luck Avenue, they will play the ‘Crooked Mercy Blues’ but they won’t move.”

But you’ll move to Times Are Alright. Guaranteed.

Purchase via:
Amazon — iTunes — eMusic — GooglePlay — Live Shows

Beyond the Horn

(NOTE: I’m aware that some sweeping generalizations are made here. I intend to deeply sift through this further down the road.)

I play many different styles of music. Regular readers may already know this but, for example, in the last six months I’ve gigged in the following styles: Americana, folk/singer-songwriter, cocktail/wallpaper jazz, “jam band” (for lack of better term – improvisatory rock), sound/ambient, musical theater (Annie), rock. And I’m already in the process of lining up further disparate gigs over the next few months. I’m well aware that I’m not unique for doing so. A number of my colleagues and peers do the same, and there are many musicians in general that do so. However, one supposedly “limiting” factor is that I’m doing all of these gigs on saxophone (tenor, soprano, alto; plus the occasional flute and/or clarinet).

The jazz-, musical theater-, and classical-oriented stuff is no big thing in the sense that there’s already a place for me. In the latter two cases, the music is precisely notated in such a way that there should be no deviation from one performance to the next. In jazz, the history and vocabulary provides a natural context for the horn regardless of who I’m playing with. However, many of the other styles – notably rock, indie, and others of such ilk – aren’t common settings for my instrument. And in those cases where sax is often used, especially in older rhythm and blues and rock and roll styles, it’s performed in such a specific manner that eschewing such conventions – growling, squealing, blues-ing – can be jarring. It’s not that I dislike such affectations – quite the opposite – but over time they created a box that largely remains today.

Over the last four decades, the saxophone has been a sort of cameo rock instrument. (Before then it was often a staple.) When present it is noticeable. It usually seems to be the case that it’s “band + saxophone” as opposed to a band that happens to have a saxophone as a mainstay. There are of course exceptions to this rule – my beloved Dave Matthews Band springs to mind. In the case of DMB, the sax originally substituted the position of lead guitar (trading such responsibilities with violin). Also with DMB, the music has enough jazz-, jam-, or crossover influence to comfortably allow a variety of instruments to fit in. Another band known for marathon concerts, Bruce Springsteen’s E Street Band, of course features sax (the late Clarence Clemons, now his nephew Jake Clemons and Eddie Manion). However, even with The E Street Band, the heavy guitar presence sort of places the sax within the aforementioned box. (Disclaimer: I’m not intimately familiar with Springsteen’s deep cuts, but these are my impressions having explored his catalogue as much as I have.) Just picking one song off the top of my head, “Rosalita” definitely follows in the “rock sax” tradition. Even Pink Floyd‘s use of the saxophone stayed mainly within this vain – e.g., “Money,” “Us and Them,” and “Shine On You Crazy Diamond Pt. 1” (the latter being perhaps my favorite PF song). There’s even a hint of it in Ron Holloway’s playing with The Warren Haynes Band (last week’s MTH-V). Or you could just listen to some George Thorogood. Or Bob Seger. Or…you get the picture…

It’s worth reiterating that I have nothing against the above sax examples or style at large. For the most part, I quite like all of them. But they passively reinforce the stereotypical “rock sax” sound – a near-anachronistic rhythm and blues punch in the face of the 70s, 80s, 90s, or 2000s listener. It’s as if the saxophone stayed in the fifties and sixties while rock continued to evolve alongside it over the next four decades.

Whenever I play with a rock band – sitting in or regularly – I’m compared, consciously or otherwise, to this tradition. (And I mean a real rock/pop band, not just a funk/fusion band that features an electric guitar.) Though I always appreciate it, I can’t help but laugh a little each time I’m told something to the effect of, “I didn’t know what to expect when I saw the saxophone” or “that was really good [or different, in a positive way]!” Because I know that that comparison took place at some point in the performance, even if only for a few milliseconds. And why shouldn’t it? That old R&B – the real R&B: rhythm and blues – sound is deeply embedded in that aural combination of “band + saxophone.”

By no means do I think I’m going where no saxophonist has gone before by avoiding this hangup. To cite a current example, one of the many things I love about Bon Iver‘s sophomore album is Colin Stetson‘s saxophonic contributions. (“MTH-V” on Bon Iver is here.) He plays throughout the material but is rarely at the sonic forefront – his presence is felt as well as heard. And his choice to mostly play the bass saxophone (with some alto and clarinet thrown in for good measure) is definitely unique in a rock setting. He is effective because he adds another noticeable, functional layer without sonically drawing attention to himself. If you were to just sit down and listen to Bon Iver straight through, you wouldn’t necessarily consider it “band + saxophone” (or “band + French horn,” etc.), but rather just a band.

(There are of course other modern/recent examples – Morphine springs to mind.)

When I’m playing with a band – rock, folk, jazz, or anything remotely along those lines – I don’t necessarily think of myself as the saxophonist per se. Instead I’m just another musician in either a lead or supporting role. Or both. Idealistic? Perhaps. But it has an effect on my thinking and consequently my playing. This of course is part of trying to find one’s “authentic voice,” to quote George Carlin. A primary goal for any musician or artist of any kind is to hone one’s craft to the point of developing an original voice/POV. This shouldn’t exist in a vacuum – ideally I should sound like me regardless of style. As I’ve said many times before, I grew up on rock and pop music. The sound is buried in my DNA. If anything I just see myself as another guitarist without getting hung up on the instrument hanging from my neck.

In Teag & PK, for instance, I have a lot of room to explore. There are just two of us – Matt (guitars, vocals, effects, electronics) and myself (saxes, flute) – and we cover a lot of stylistic ground from experimental ambience to straight-ahead songs. (More on that here and here.) The ambient improvisations are “easier” than the songs in the sense that the sonic landscape is wide open and there’s mostly no form. The more indie-esque songs are challenging at first because it’s often tricky to figure out where and how to implement a monodic instrument without getting in the way of Matt’s chords and voice. We can’t always have countermelodies – that’d get old fast. And I don’t want to just stand there as the de facto soloist in the final act of every song. So instead I find other ways to fit and truly collaborate: subtone a bass line, offer responsorial phrases, play an occasional counter-melody, regularly switch instrumental for timbral effect, etc. In a number of songs I’m able to fill out our sound without distracting from Matt’s singing; it’s truly a duo instead of an alternating singer and soloist.

Regarding straight-ahead rock, I’ve recently been sitting in with The Fencemen. (They’re rock with a capital R-A-W-K.) It started as a one-off recording contribution but I’ve since sat in on a couple live shows. As a bit of an experiment on their part (I’m guessing), they gave me carte blanche on the last gig’s entire set. I did my homework – happily so; their upcoming debut album is great – and did what I thought was best for each song. The band’s instrumentation of vocals, guitar, bass, drums, and keys is already sufficiently full, so above all else I intended to stay out of the band’s way. I gave myself some legitimate “parts” that simply enhanced the texture in some areas, other times I soloed. And other times I simply acted as a second guitarist, complementing the primary guitar parts. At no time did I stress over where to put a saxophone. Instead I thought about where I, not my instrument, would fit. (And if the answer was nowhere I’d lay out.) I didn’t want to just add sound for the sake of adding sound. I wanted to do fit inside what was already there. And it seemed to work. (For the most part, at least.)

Understandably, the above two examples may not seem like much. But I can tell you that, from a horn player’s perspective, the impulse to play a lot of notes is enormous and difficult to temper initially. In classical and jazz ensembles the saxophone often has a busy, featured part. This creates a sort of default mentality of always needing to play similarly in all settings. And on top of wanting to let the fingers fly, a trap I’ve seen a number of people fall into is a stylistic misunderstanding. It’s not uncommon to see a horn player execute jazz licks within pop music. (I guess that whole “knowing your predecessors” thing only applies to jazz and classical styles?) I’m sure part of it may just be the natural defaulting to what he/she knows best. Beyond that, I’m convinced that part of the reasoning is also a mindset that focuses on a traditionally “jazz” or “classical” instrument juxtaposing with a pop style. This then reinforces the reverting to type that often occurs.

I’m not going to allow my choice of instrument limit my choice of style. It’s not that I have “guitar envy.” Obviously I love the saxophone or I wouldn’t have spent all these years devoted to it. In fact, in full disclosure, I’ve played in the aforementioned “rock sax” style a number of times – sometimes that really is the best option. But often it’s definitely not the only option. An instrument is just a means of expression, not an end. And despite all my rage I won’t be just another horn in a cage…

(Photo: Meat Loaf as Eddie in Rocky Horror Picture Show. Duh.)