An Appreciation Post:

Hey, folks!

After a month or so of traveling with family, standing as a groomsman at my cousin Tyler’s wedding in Sacramento, CA,

and settling back into my

here in the 414, I’m happy to share some recent positive online attention towards this summer’s treks in the world of live music performance. For a bit of context—in the past, being a music creator has been mainly domesticated to my DIY studio space, reserved for recording, production, and the search for new material. Of course, I’ve had some experience playing in front of an audience before, like in high school function jazz/ensemble bands and the occasional odd rock outfit, but this year especially has turned out to be more of a take-off in bringing my solo craft further into the world of live music than I originally set out for— in a good way.

Part of the reason is due to the unceasing support from friends, family, peers, and hosts of the arts, whose presence, engagement, and encouragement enable me to continue perceiving live performance as a worthwhile musical endeavor, whereas before it has seemed 1) too intimidating to play in public (I’ll always have nerves) and/or 2) unfeasible for my act with present equipment and gear. With both of these being satisfied in recent years, I now feel prepared and in a better position to welcome opportunities to share music in a live setting.

For example, one of several sets I’ve performed this year was at Beercat Fest outside of Byron, IL: a bash of mutual friends with extended invitations and a lineup of musicians who helped enchant a bucolic evening on the farm property of the hosts, friends of the family Molly McNett and Dan Libman, who organized festivities.

It was here, following Chi-based psych-rock outfit, 8-bit crEEps, where I played my set out of a barn to a broad and attentive audience. As it happens, there weren’t any full video recordings of my performance, though that was easily compensated by another family friend and rock n’ roll literary in the crowd, Joe Bonomo, who delighted me when he published his Substack essay entitled, “I dream a dream for you,” which I have embedded and encourage you to read in length here:

TLDR; Bonomo dissects, distills, and appreciates the song, “Sleeper,” by garage-rocker Ty Segall, elaborating in-depth on the emotional impression it has made on him over the years. Also nested as an aside in the article, he dispenses a little writeup treat from his listening experience at Beercat with a spotlight on my performance.

It was pleasant to be on the receiving end as a reader, with thought-provoking reflections from a listener’s ears and a lens to gauge how my sound may come across subjectively when I have never found a way to define it before, let alone describe it. His writing is perceptive yet gentle with a clear personality (“In the lovely, charged haze I don’t know if the melody’s soothing the sleeper, or if the sleeper’s inspiring the melody“), evoking me to view live music in a different light—something with a little more value than in its performativity: the intrinsic benefit of having given something that evening.

Besides the shout-out, the breakdown of Ty Segall and “Sleeper” was fascinating and also very cool. I hadn’t heard the song before reading it, at which point I gave “Sleeper” three consecutive spins just to get the juice. One point that grabbed me in Bonomo’s essay is Segall’s interest in dreams, which I relate to at a creative level and continued philosophical point of interest. Maybe in another post, I’ll go off on some ideas and theories I have on them; I would be curious to have a genuine conversation on dreams with Segall if I ever get the chance to meet him. In lieu of that timeline, listening to the song itself can suffice as the conversation, which resonates in the quote Bonomo cites from Segall’s NPR interview: “I’ve always been really interested in dreams. It’s something me and my dad talked about a lot. I was actually having a lot of nightmares [during the making of Sleeper] about stuff. I mean, who doesn’t have nightmares. It’s not anything special.”

Another tidbit I took from “Sleeper” was its transformation from the original acoustical recording to the current rocked-up live version. Admittedly, I’ve been a little hung up on the fact that live music does not always bend to studio work and vice versa, something I’ve come more to terms with and even respect now. Artists have always had clever ways of presenting their work live so that it doesn’t feel so alienated and dependent on the form of its exhibition…unless they do in fact seek that sense of difference as an artistic choice. This is the approach I think Segall takes and one I would favor as a compromise to being limited to playing certain songs live for fear they might sound “too different” from the version everyone is familiar with.

All things considered, looking back at my recent growth in live music with clear feedback that connects to other art is such a neat way to continue inspiring myself down this road. For readers interested in reading more incisive and elegant rock n’ roll criticism, please consider subscribing to Joe’s Substack, “No Such Thing As Was,” or following his socials. This has been an appreciation post for the appreciation post that motivated it alongside many great experiences from the last couple of months.

Thanks for reading, and be sure to stay tuned to (In)Sitze for more updates!