One of my more fulfilling lockdown projects has involved helping my BFF answer her daughter's questions about songwriting.

The first bit was about why we write songs in the first place, and different types of songs that reflect those different reasons. (Gregory Orr's discussion of lyrical vs. narrative writing is tremendously useful in thinking about this, fwiw.) This section turned into a little 18-page e-book, complete with a playlist. The list is loosely grouped into songs that imitate real-life sounds, lyrical songs, narrative songs, informative songs, nonsense/scatting songs, and instrumental compositions, with some examples of different instrumental ensembles.

I should also note—in case you're thinking about sharing this with kids—that a couple of the songs contain lyrics or references that might not be completely family-friendly. These are things that I know my BFF has discussed with her daughter. But not every parent wants to explain "Ms. Jackson" right now, in These Uncertain Times, so maybe just stay close to the Skip button, if you're not sure.

I think it's going to be a series, though for now I'm happy to road-test it with individual kids rather than trying to find a publisher. Next up: lyrics, lyrical structure, rhyme. I know one of the songs I'm going to discuss is "Freedom" (metaphor! imagery! allusion! and Kendrick Lamar's motif development is so good), but I would love to hear other suggestions. 

I've finished an album's worth of demos on this residency, so I'm putting them up on Bandcamp as a free download. It's not truly an album, in the sense of a coherent collection; many of these will be on our next studio project, but probably not all of them, and probably not entirely in these forms.

Songs change dramatically when they come to the full band. We cut a verse from "Badlands," which was a fingerpicked ballad at the time; there was some discussion about whether "Manhattan Up" would be acoustic; the demo of "Get Out" was so different that Charlie asked if we were going for a Monkees feel. So consider this a glimpse into the evolutionary process.

None of these recordings have gone through professional mixing or mastering (which is why I'm making the download free). Best listened to on headphones—both for optimal sound and to avoid irritating your lockdown cohort.

This was the year we got way ahead of the deadline and gathered to record a Tiny Desk contest submission in January. Can Tiny Desk concerts still happen with social distancing? Don't know! Does anyone still want to win airfare to DC? Not sure! Did we submit the thing anyway? Heck yeah!

If you want to watch, it's here: https://youtu.be/rR023OeWkg4. Look at those happy, naive faces, all crowded within six feet of each other. Dance like nobody's watching; drum like you'll never have to wipe down your desk, as the saying goes.

You will also note that we have taken to heart the fact that the internet is made of cats. I don't know whether Julie is taking requests on that keyboard, but it wouldn't hurt to ask.

The studio recording of the song is over on Bandcamp, as well as Spotify and other services. Bandcamp, btw, is waiving its cut of purchases on March 20, so that all proceeds go to the artists. We have plenty of ideas for albums you might want to buy, but it's a good day to shop around on Bandcamp if you like supporting indie music.

Here's a demo of a new one, "Asteroid." It is, as I said to a friend a few days ago, a risky song for me: it contains guitar solos that—as I'm working alone—I can't outsource to Charlie; it uses a part of my voice that easily veers into either Cher Impersonator or Slumming Opera Singer; it's about a vulnerable subject; and the whole thing is a structural experiment. AND the build really needs a full drum kit. (The percussion here is me hitting the guitar pickup with an open palm. Have I mentioned that I miss the band? I miss the band.) But now is no time to be shy about art—or anything, really—so what the hell, here it is.

And here's a new one that feels much safer in a lot of ways, "Cat at the Music Box Lounge." (I do not remember where that title came from; the song came from a very specific walk to Chicago's Montrose Saloon in October. That night's performer, Ken Rose, is indeed known as The Voice That Remembers, and you should see him if you can.) Melancholy country is definitely one of my go-to writing forms, and the genre somewhat limits the structural risks you can take. But that also means this one may not go on the new album, which seems to be making experiments all over the place.

Everyone's stuck at home and desperately browsing the internet, so here's some stuff to listen to. WITH THE IMPORTANT CAVEAT that I've been working in near-total isolation for a month and a half, and it is entirely possible that what I am producing is utter crap.

"​Ghostlight" is a demo of a new song. (The percussion track is tap shoes.) I came here knowing that much of what I'd be writing had to do with memory, the past, mortality, and ghosts...and then it turned out my casita was a little bit haunted. 

If you've seen us live, you may have seen a stunningly bad Replacements T-shirt at our merch table. It's made of shiny swimsuit fabric, and the logo looks like it was printed from a photo of another T-shirt (even retaining the original shirt's off-center fold line). It was from an Amazon seller who turned out to be fraudulent. "Polyester Shirt" is the result. This is a rough cut from one of the recording sessions for Highway Gothic. We've talked about a Mats tribute EP, probably incorporating this, "I.O.U.," "Whiskeyboots," and "Run for the Country." Charlie suggested the title Black Blanket Sun based on a comment Paul Westerberg makes in Trouble Boys. 

Here's another new demo: "Today, Today." I miss being able to record with the full band. My equipment here consists of the Ibanez, a Casio (which doesn't connect directly to the recording interface), and a mic. It's kind of fun to see how much one can play around within that limited range, but...yeah, I miss the band.

Stay well, everyone. I'll post some more songs this weekend.

talkin_aspirational_lifestyle_brand_blues_demo_2_-_2_27_20_12.13_pm.mp3Hi from Taos, where I'm a month into my arts residency. It's lovely to have uninterrupted days devoted to art—though I've been realizing that much of what I'm working on involves confronting the scarier ideas that day-to-day life makes it easy to dodge. Not sure I'd call it fun or comfortable. But it is productive.

I do spend a fair bit of time gazing out of the windows, because a) the landscape is gorgeous and b) crows and ravens and magpies like to congregate near the casita, and they are utterly fascinating. There is a slight possibility that I will chuck it all and devote my life to ornithology. But probably not.

Here's a demo of one of the new songs, "Talkin' Aspirational Lifestyle Brand Blues" (and no, it is not an actual blues). I don't know yet whether it belongs on the new album. We'll figure that stuff out in Chicago.

We shot our Tiny Desk Concert submission last weekend and happened to catch an impromptu Spinal Tap song on video:
https://youtu.be/7ns4FxR3w74

Thomas is now growing a full Derek Smalls mustache, so there's no turning back.

We spent a few hours last weekend shooting video for "Teflon." I don't know whether this is our theatrical origins showing or what, but this band excels at low-tech, low-budget special effects. It is delightful.

We are very much leaning into the weird for this one (which is only right for a song with a rhythm track created from modem noise). Some of my favorite effects came from mounting music-stand LEDs on the person of band members. 

Of course, it does not hurt to have a video professional as a bandmate. Zach arrived with colored LEDs and a smoke machine, in addition to the welding helmet he's sporting in the middle photo above. Below, you can see him contorted on the floor of the practice space to get the right shot of Charlie. For Art.

 I haven't seen most of the footage of myself yet, but it definitely involves a dress made of bubble wrap as well as some nightmare fodder with a six-foot gauze sheath.

Some ideas, in no particular order:

Shop at craft fairs and small businesses. Even if you're not supporting artists directly, you're helping to build robust local communities, the sort of places where indie bookstores and record shops can thrive. Your presence might also convince the neighborhood chamber of commerce that next year's event should have live music, or the neighborhood deserves a mural.

Sponsor artists via Patreon, Kickstarter, or a similar crowdfunding site. (We don't have a Baguettes fund going at the moment, but you can support our favorite illustrator/printmaker/sculptor Phineas X. Jones for a mere dollar a month.)

Give our music or our merch as a gift. You may feel that a gift demands a physical object and a music download is therefore insufficient. If that's the case, just ask; plenty of artists have found clever ways to provide the object. We have Highway Gothic download codes on art prints, for example. 

On that topic, you can also make a difference with the way you purchase:

• Buying directly from us at the merch table is great, of course.
• If you're at home, buy your music through Bandcamp. Slightly more of the purchase price goes to the artist (at least in our experience; other bands and labels may have different setups), and they're a good organization.
• If you need to buy through Amazon, we get it, but please leave a review. They are not a particularly good organization, but we can't avoid selling there. (Annnd cue our dance song about predatory capitalism.)

Come to a show. We love to see you. 

Give us a follow or a like on Spotify, Soundcloud, or Facebook. Follower numbers can affect whether we get booked, whether the album gets a review, whether a radio station takes a chance on our new song...all kinds of things that make a material difference in our future work.

If your space permits, have us over to play a house concert. 

Add one of our songs to your party playlist. If you like us enough to introduce us to your friends, you like-us like-us.
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What else you got? Post ideas in the comments.

We will not apologize for that pun.

Thanks to the kind artist reps at Spotify, all our music has been consolidated under the Liz + the Baguettes name. If you were already following the ampersand version of the channel, you should have been transferred to the plus-sign version with no hiccups. Perhaps you are even one of the people streaming "Hookup Song" in Chennai! (If so, please say hi in the comments. It is mind-blowingly cool that we have listeners in Chennai.)

Next up: we try to accomplish the same feat on YouTube. Wish us luck, y'all.