RE: Using pre-recorded material in p

["max valentino" <ekstasis1@hotmail.com>]

First let me say that I have no problems with the use of “canned” parts, 
pre-recorded loops or sequences in a musical presentation.  I have, in 
fact, 
been quite guilty of this in the past; sometimes using as many as three 
drum 
machines, sequencer, and pre-recorded loops burned onto a CD (a little 
trick 
borrowed from Rick).
Yet, I no longer do this.

In just about all aspects of my music (composition, improvisation, 
recording, performance), I continually ask myself one question: “why?”. 
Why 
am I using this phrase, scale, part, loop et al.? Why does this work.or 
why 
does it not work?  And I think it important to ask ourselves this in 
relation to the use of canned tracks.  Mark made some interesting points, 
and I think many have taken note of that.  As to the separation of 
artistic 
statement and entertainment, let us not forget that the “show” element of 
what we do, music being the most intangible of art forms, is important and 
not really separate from our “artistic ambitions”.

Technology, as we loopers are so aware of, has made it possible to do so 
much with sound. Yet, I am constantly reminded of that old saying, ‘just 
because you CAN do something does not mean you necessarily SHOULD”.  So I 
ask, why do you want/need to use canned tracks? To flesh out arrangements? 
To perform as a one man band, and cover “all the bases”?  Quite often 
technology makes is quite possible for mediocre music to be made which 
sounds quite good, yet on a little deeper listen runs parallel to “The 
Emperor’s New Clothes”. ProTools, Laptops, software pgms, drum machines 
etc. 
have made it totally possible for even the marginally talented to make 
really cool sounds, and in this course lower the bar considerably.  Duke 
Ellington once said, “If it sounds good, it is good”.  Yet sometimes 
“good” 
is just not good enough.

My own experience has been that playing solo bass with loops captivated 
audiences.  Even though many could not quite fathom what was being done 
(and 
at times a brief explanation of the process did help things along), the 
fact 
they could see/hear me making loops and playing to/with them was 
intriguing. 
  It was a performance, albeit one quite unlike many had ever seen (face 
it..one guy playing bass and doing complete compositions is a bit… 
er…”different”). I did use drum loops and other sequenced bits, and when 
they would kick on a great number of the audience would lose attention. 
The 
machines, regardless of how cool they sound and tricks they can play, 
cannot 
replace the “humanity” and errors of something played.

And, quite often, in performances, which rely heavily upon canned tracks, 
sequencers etc., there is a greater possibility of meltdown; the more 
things 
that can go wrong insure that some most certainly will.
And, especially in my case, too many buttons and options kept my focus on 
the buttons and options and not on the music (ever notice how at many 
loop/sequence performances the performer seems totally mesmermerized by 
his/her own gear?). Simplicity is a really nice thing (eh, Ted?)

In the world today audiences are inundated with performances, which rely 
quite heavily on sequencers, canned tracks etc. Concerts have become 
“spectacles”; perfected and entertaining yet retaining none of the 
idiosyncrasies which make music so endearing.  And so, we now are 
witnessing 
a shift in popular tastes.  Audience are once again clamoring for “real” 
performances, regardless of how high caliber the playing is, to once again 
feel “the magic”.

This is what makes looping so unique.  It is played.  And, it does not 
have 
to an improvisational tool, although this is the road many of us take (and 
a 
fine road to take indeed).

My dilemma was how to maintain the contact with audience.  I began 
programming drum machines on the fly for performances (a nifty trick which 
someone with the skills of Rick Walker or Matt Davignon might be able to 
pull off better than I) which did captivate the audiences more..but was a 
little time consuming, and prone to “pilot error”.

Then I began learning to play the drum parts, and other instrument 
mimicry, 
on my basses in real time as I looped the parts.  This is a hit. No, my 
“bass drumming” does not sound as cool as a drum machine, but it works 
just 
as well…perhaps even better.

As musicians it is easy for us to be awed by someone’s programming 
prowess, 
the cool filter treatments of sequencer et al, but that is really lost on 
an 
audience who merely wants music.  My own take on things is that if I am a 
soloist, using loops, I embrace the limitations of the position.  I will 
use 
those limitations to make music as richly as I can, without trying to 
sound 
like a complete orchestra (my own feelings here are an audience quickly 
becomes tired of hearing more sound than what they can fathom a single 
player can create). Along the way I learn more and more about both the 
complexities and simplicities of musical expression, develop skills and 
playing techniques, and learn to be more engaging as a performer.

Yet, I must say, I greatly enjoy performances which do use canned tracks.  
Watching someone pull it all of, like Bill Walker (who uses a few “peater 
loops on card), is exhilarating and inspiring ( Bill would be both of 
those 
just alone with an acoustic gtr…heck, for that matter a dulcimer!).  If 
the 
use of tracks is your “calling” then by all means proceed….with all the 
wit, 
passion and knowledge you can muster. But, to be fair, first ask yourself, 
“why?”.

A little more than my $.02

Max