I can't believe it's already October! PUMPKINS are for sale, people! Pumpkins! This is cause for celebration. Buy everyone you love a pumpkin. Because nothing says "love" like an edible gourd.
So fall is officially here. I've busted out the sweater box, switched to my winter boots, and invested in some serious wool socks. I am both prepared and in anticipation of the autumn months.
...and yet today it was 80 degrees in New York City on October 10th. There seems to be a disconnect.
Maybe it's global warming, maybe it's happenstance, but MAYBE it's the universe thwarting me of joy.
This suspicion was confirmed today when Nick Paul and I went in search of an apple orchard before driving back to NYC from our gig at Messiah College. Strites Orchard was not only revered as the best in the land-- it was also on our way home and included a pumpkin patch and a bakery.
Jackpot.
We made up songs on the car ride over, yelling joyfully, "APPLES!" out open windows, the sun shining it's mid-morning light, the breeze brushing our unkempt hair.
But as we came upon the glorious rolling apple hills, we also came upon a deserted parking lot and, much to our dismay, a sign indicating that Sunday is NOT a day for picking apples.
Apparently, Autumn as been postponed.
...We instead settled for a highway CrackerBarrel.
But seriously, fall is absolutely my favorite time of year. The brisk air; the expectation of holiday spirit; the willingness of people to be outside and soak in the last moments of late sunshine; the smell of mulled spices from every cafe's open doors. It's enough to send my heart into a tizzy.
This also means the beginning of costume consideration. I take my Halloween adornments quite seriously. Past years have included Wonder Woman, Sarah Palin, Hobbes from Calvin and Hobbes, Lumber Jill, Alice in Wonderland, a one-eyed pirate, and my favorite, Peter Pan (little boy's tunic from The Disney Store included). Last year I was the wolf on one weekend night, and then Little Red the next, wearing the wolf head (hat) as my cap. Morbid, perhaps, but hey-- it's Halloween. I am always open to suggestions, and I am ALWAYS down for group themes.
i.e. Captain Planet and his gang of Planeteers.
...Which leads me to another really wonderful thing about this October in particular. Towards the end of the summer I was contacted by Timberland Clothing Company's corporate office, asking me to be featured on their community site. They were looking for musicians with environmental fervor. Essentially, Planeteers.
Being that I am so deeply inspired by and committed to protecting the environment, I was honored to accept their offer. It gave me a chance to kick start what I eventually look to do with my music-- to use it as a voice for greater good. Because at the end of the day, music speaks of the human condition, and the human condition is provided and determined by our earth. It's a perfect way, as I see it, to create a harmony within my own life, and use my passion to help others feel the same way.
Prompted by the opportunity, I teamed up with Noah Paul, the incredibly talented young designer/videographer who created my EP artwork for "Imaginary." We wanted to create a video for Timberland that would be representative of their product and their mission, as well as my product and mission as an artist. Using "Smoking Gun" as the backdrop and with Noah's visual instincts, we ventured to the wilds of upstate NY to film this video for their site.
I am always impressed with what can be done in a short amount of time-- and this was a perfect example of that. In two days of filming and less than a week to edit, we created what feels to me like an artistic success. It's not just what the video does visually-- it's how it feels. He was able to take my feelings about music and the wilderness and represent it honestly, visually and aurally. All I had to do was... be me. Perhaps that is why this opportunity was so amazing-- I found out that in 3 minutes, I could perfectly capture my thoughts about the world around me, and have it reach many who feel the same way. (Evident by the fact that the video is now hanging out on the Timberland website, blog, and YouTube channel).
Did I mention I got to wear Timberland's buffalo-check coat in the film? And that I looked like a lumberjack?
October, you are WINNING.
Check out the video and feature here, if you like!
Timberland's website: http://community.timberland.com/Music
YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRc1bv9fYHo
So in conclusion, you can take the Autumn out of Fall, but you can't take the Autumn out of Alicia.
Or something strange like that.
Until next time--
Earth! Fire! Wind! Water! Heart! By your powers combined, I am Captain Planet!
Go Brewers!
-<3- Lic
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Friday, September 9, 2011
Nothing Smells Quite like the Midwest
So I just embarked on my first-ever tour.
I played acoustic, and was accompanied on the journey with my co-bill, The Hillary Reynolds Band.
It was a 10-date Tour de Wisconsin, with deviations to both Chicago and Iowa City. The cities we played included the two aforementioned, Madison, Minocqua, Green Bay, Appleton, and Sturgeon Bay, Door County.
Let me begin by declaring that nothing smells quite like the Midwest. I don't know whether it's the trees, the rolling farmland, the grilled beef patties, the fertilizer, or a combination thereof, but damn-- Wisconsin smells like a hometown. There would be times in the car (once in particular when I was driving from Minocqua) when the pungent aroma of cow defecation was so strong that I became lightheaded. There was another time in Green Bay when a busty and sunburned German lady grilled me the most delicious 1/4 lb grass-fed beef burger on a multi-grain bun with Wisconsin cheddar cheese dripping with grease, and had me wash it down with a New Glarius Totally Naked beer....
....I just about passed out from the glory of it all.
Once, between Madison and Sturgeon Bay, we decided to have a red barn count. I became so stressed out and decided to stop counting when at hour 2 I had counted over 75 barns.
There's just no relaxing when you have to keep track of that many barns.
And there's just no place else like Wisconsin.
I should also mention that nowhere else in the world are there people as kind as Wisconsinites. No matter where we played, we were appreciated and supported. One time, when a latecomer realized there was live music but hadn't come for anyone in particular, he approached our merch table and said, "I have $5. Who can I help out with gas money?"
We're not in New York anymore, Dorothy.
And speaking of which, you know you're not in NYC when the only t-shirt size that's selling is XL.
So basically what I'm saying is, don't worry NY, there were no hipsters in the Midwest to steal your smalls.
Perhaps what was most comforting of all was that at the end of each night, when we loaded the cars and got ready to drive 3 hours to our next location, we could see the stars. We could see the stars, the constellations, hear the crickets, and smell the cow poop.
On another note entirely, I learned a lot about myself this trip-- about myself and where I'd like to go. Which is everywhere.
I learned that I could be on the road every day and be happy. I love motion. I love seeing new places, walking other people's streets, and getting a chance to be them for a day. I enjoy trying food at different venues and cities. Because lets be honest-- when the food is good, it's good. And it's better than having the same thing to eat everyday, which is inevitably what happens when you live in a matchbox in NYC, where it's uncomfortable to cook and you can't afford to eat out. String cheese, for instance. I regularly eat a lot of string cheese.
I also dig the load-in. Setting up the merch table (especially when you have merch to sell) and getting pumped for the stage. I love feeling out the audience, and when they're timid or not particularly responsive, winning them over. It's a terrible feeling when a tough crowd cannot be won. But I suppose therein lies the challenge and the reward when it can be done.
With regards to the actual road, I can't drive for many days in a row without developing some serious shoulder tension. But that's what band mates are for.
And when it comes to having band mates-- I think that's the way to do it. Embarking on this solo tour was an important moment for me because I became transparent. I was able to see clearly all of my flaws and weaknesses, but could also recognize and celebrate my strengths. I am a terrific organizer, a powerful presence on stage, and an honest singer/songwriter. But when it comes to my sound, I want, need, CRAVE the input of fellow musicians. I want their musical dialogue to inform my songs and turn them into an experience. I want a show that from beginning to end captures an audience with its sonic environment and refuses to let them go until the last note. And above all else, I want my audience to believe through our interaction as a group that this music is about and for them. That's what a band can do.
....they can also swap night driving shifts, cook for each other, tell stupid jokes, pass out in huddled heaps on a cold basement floor, pick each other up, and throw high-fives when a show goes well. But those are just the perks :-)
It was difficult being on a solo tour with another band, watching every night as they celebrated their music together. I had my moments where I felt alone and up against the whole world. But honestly, don't we all have those battles with self-doubt? In the end, the completion of those 10 dates made me a stronger performer, a better musician, and significantly more motivated. I need to keep this going so that next summer, I can bring my whole musical crew of comrades along for the ride.
I have been back in NYC for about a week now, and my renewed sense of enthusiasm about music in general has certainly carried over from the tour. I've had full-band rehearsals, am getting ready for a show tomorrow night, and am reeling with excitement over a few new tunes being debuted.
This past Wednesday, I MC'ed a benefit show at Rockwood Music Hall that raised money for 9-11 first responder health care. It was a lovely evening that held 6 performers from start to finish (myself included), and yielded some incredible music and support. At the end of the evening, a mysterious man came up to me and placed in my hand a fist-full of small jewels. You know those one-sided, multicolored gems you used to bedazzle your clothes in second grade? Yup. He handed me a fist-full of dazzling jewels and thanked me for my music. It was bizarre, but also surprisingly welcome. I have decided to take his offering as a token of luck-- an omen that I am doing what it is I am meant to do, and that in doing so, am making others lives a little richer.
Hell-- for all I know, the man may be a leprechaun.
And on that note, keep doing what you love. Who knows, you might find yourself bedazzled.
Over and out,
-<3- Lic
I played acoustic, and was accompanied on the journey with my co-bill, The Hillary Reynolds Band.
It was a 10-date Tour de Wisconsin, with deviations to both Chicago and Iowa City. The cities we played included the two aforementioned, Madison, Minocqua, Green Bay, Appleton, and Sturgeon Bay, Door County.
Let me begin by declaring that nothing smells quite like the Midwest. I don't know whether it's the trees, the rolling farmland, the grilled beef patties, the fertilizer, or a combination thereof, but damn-- Wisconsin smells like a hometown. There would be times in the car (once in particular when I was driving from Minocqua) when the pungent aroma of cow defecation was so strong that I became lightheaded. There was another time in Green Bay when a busty and sunburned German lady grilled me the most delicious 1/4 lb grass-fed beef burger on a multi-grain bun with Wisconsin cheddar cheese dripping with grease, and had me wash it down with a New Glarius Totally Naked beer....
....I just about passed out from the glory of it all.
Once, between Madison and Sturgeon Bay, we decided to have a red barn count. I became so stressed out and decided to stop counting when at hour 2 I had counted over 75 barns.
There's just no relaxing when you have to keep track of that many barns.
And there's just no place else like Wisconsin.
I should also mention that nowhere else in the world are there people as kind as Wisconsinites. No matter where we played, we were appreciated and supported. One time, when a latecomer realized there was live music but hadn't come for anyone in particular, he approached our merch table and said, "I have $5. Who can I help out with gas money?"
We're not in New York anymore, Dorothy.
And speaking of which, you know you're not in NYC when the only t-shirt size that's selling is XL.
So basically what I'm saying is, don't worry NY, there were no hipsters in the Midwest to steal your smalls.
Perhaps what was most comforting of all was that at the end of each night, when we loaded the cars and got ready to drive 3 hours to our next location, we could see the stars. We could see the stars, the constellations, hear the crickets, and smell the cow poop.
On another note entirely, I learned a lot about myself this trip-- about myself and where I'd like to go. Which is everywhere.
I learned that I could be on the road every day and be happy. I love motion. I love seeing new places, walking other people's streets, and getting a chance to be them for a day. I enjoy trying food at different venues and cities. Because lets be honest-- when the food is good, it's good. And it's better than having the same thing to eat everyday, which is inevitably what happens when you live in a matchbox in NYC, where it's uncomfortable to cook and you can't afford to eat out. String cheese, for instance. I regularly eat a lot of string cheese.
I also dig the load-in. Setting up the merch table (especially when you have merch to sell) and getting pumped for the stage. I love feeling out the audience, and when they're timid or not particularly responsive, winning them over. It's a terrible feeling when a tough crowd cannot be won. But I suppose therein lies the challenge and the reward when it can be done.
With regards to the actual road, I can't drive for many days in a row without developing some serious shoulder tension. But that's what band mates are for.
And when it comes to having band mates-- I think that's the way to do it. Embarking on this solo tour was an important moment for me because I became transparent. I was able to see clearly all of my flaws and weaknesses, but could also recognize and celebrate my strengths. I am a terrific organizer, a powerful presence on stage, and an honest singer/songwriter. But when it comes to my sound, I want, need, CRAVE the input of fellow musicians. I want their musical dialogue to inform my songs and turn them into an experience. I want a show that from beginning to end captures an audience with its sonic environment and refuses to let them go until the last note. And above all else, I want my audience to believe through our interaction as a group that this music is about and for them. That's what a band can do.
....they can also swap night driving shifts, cook for each other, tell stupid jokes, pass out in huddled heaps on a cold basement floor, pick each other up, and throw high-fives when a show goes well. But those are just the perks :-)
It was difficult being on a solo tour with another band, watching every night as they celebrated their music together. I had my moments where I felt alone and up against the whole world. But honestly, don't we all have those battles with self-doubt? In the end, the completion of those 10 dates made me a stronger performer, a better musician, and significantly more motivated. I need to keep this going so that next summer, I can bring my whole musical crew of comrades along for the ride.
I have been back in NYC for about a week now, and my renewed sense of enthusiasm about music in general has certainly carried over from the tour. I've had full-band rehearsals, am getting ready for a show tomorrow night, and am reeling with excitement over a few new tunes being debuted.
This past Wednesday, I MC'ed a benefit show at Rockwood Music Hall that raised money for 9-11 first responder health care. It was a lovely evening that held 6 performers from start to finish (myself included), and yielded some incredible music and support. At the end of the evening, a mysterious man came up to me and placed in my hand a fist-full of small jewels. You know those one-sided, multicolored gems you used to bedazzle your clothes in second grade? Yup. He handed me a fist-full of dazzling jewels and thanked me for my music. It was bizarre, but also surprisingly welcome. I have decided to take his offering as a token of luck-- an omen that I am doing what it is I am meant to do, and that in doing so, am making others lives a little richer.
Hell-- for all I know, the man may be a leprechaun.
And on that note, keep doing what you love. Who knows, you might find yourself bedazzled.
Over and out,
-<3- Lic
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
A Big Week, Black Bears, and Beer
So it's certainly been a while since I've blogged. Probably because I've had little time to breathe. When I think about all of the hours I have spent on this computer writing emails, replying to emails, getting distracted on facebook and forgetting to write emails, neglecting my guitar.... it's mind boggling. The amount of screen time it takes to make a self-released CD realized is GROSS. Not to mention the screen time with phone calls. What I really need is to throw my iPhone in the river.
...and then go fish it out. In a sweaty panic.
I shouldn't be so upset. The bottom line is that with the advent of the Internet, although it certainly makes socialization more convoluted, it allows indie artists like me to, indeed, release their own records, promote it to potential buyers, and harass our friends. If I didn't have the capability to spam the shit out of my best friend's walls with myspace links, who would listen?
I just wish the do-it-yourself, Music Industry for Laypeople didn't tie us indie artists down to our keypads, as though our macbook power cables were the umbilical chords of artisthood.
I had the great fortune a few weeks ago of driving cross-country and escaping into the woods of Northern Wisconsin. For a whole 7 days I was to be without Internet! No satellite would reach me there! I was to have only fresh air, dense woodland, and black bear to keep me company!
...I ended up driving over 30 minutes three times that week to get into town just to use the Internet. I was preventing catastrophes, people! Not to mention a full 24-hour period on the phone where I nearly lost my shit and ended up yelling at the loons for distracting me from my business call. I suppose that's what I get by leaving for the woods right before an EP release. But seriously? Every person should be entitled to a vacation after 6 months of no vacation. Right? I mean, I think we have it all wrong in this country-- we are taught to feel guilty for taking days to ourselves and not answering phone calls. I personally find it sick that I experience anxiety when not returning an email within 24 hours of receiving it. I find it appalling that I DREAM about to-do lists. And wake up to check them off. I should be thrown to the bears. (For the record, I DID see black bears this trip. One of them was 20 feet from me as I rode past it on my bike! Don't tell my mom).
So here I am, the day before my EP release show, worn weary from my vacation, strung out by my self-imposed drama, and in eager anticipation of the 45 glorious minutes that will make all the stress worth while.
But the worst is the post-show let down. At 8 pm tomorrow when the show is over, I will experience an additional 45 minutes of euphoria, before plunging into the steep realization that the build-up balloon is burst, the moment of accomplishment has been accomplished, and now it's time to get back to work.
My friend Tavia (who suffered alongside me in the woods) very recently expressed to me her concern about my future. She said, "Girl, I'm just afraid that if you keep going at the rate you're going, you won't have a real vacation for the next 10 years."
Well, there is a reason I do this to myself. If it means I can re-live those 45 minutes on stage every night, sharing it with new people, that's BETTER than vacation. That's like a play-date every damn day. With awesome friends. And toys. That's like skipping in the sunshine. That's like chillin' with the black bears in the woods and sipping on a cold brew.
...actually, NOTHING is as good as sipping a cold beer in the woods. But having EARNED that beer by playing good music for people every night would just be a chart-topper.
So join me! Please, I invite you to take a listen to my new music. Or not, but there's a pretty good likelihood I'll still spam your wall with it anyhow. Walls are good for that.
And afterwards, we can all have a beer.
Thank you to all my friends, musical comrades, and my incredible family for helping me make this EP happen. Without you, none of this passion business would be worth it at all.
love love love and happinesssss,
-<3- Lic
...and then go fish it out. In a sweaty panic.
I shouldn't be so upset. The bottom line is that with the advent of the Internet, although it certainly makes socialization more convoluted, it allows indie artists like me to, indeed, release their own records, promote it to potential buyers, and harass our friends. If I didn't have the capability to spam the shit out of my best friend's walls with myspace links, who would listen?
I just wish the do-it-yourself, Music Industry for Laypeople didn't tie us indie artists down to our keypads, as though our macbook power cables were the umbilical chords of artisthood.
I had the great fortune a few weeks ago of driving cross-country and escaping into the woods of Northern Wisconsin. For a whole 7 days I was to be without Internet! No satellite would reach me there! I was to have only fresh air, dense woodland, and black bear to keep me company!
...I ended up driving over 30 minutes three times that week to get into town just to use the Internet. I was preventing catastrophes, people! Not to mention a full 24-hour period on the phone where I nearly lost my shit and ended up yelling at the loons for distracting me from my business call. I suppose that's what I get by leaving for the woods right before an EP release. But seriously? Every person should be entitled to a vacation after 6 months of no vacation. Right? I mean, I think we have it all wrong in this country-- we are taught to feel guilty for taking days to ourselves and not answering phone calls. I personally find it sick that I experience anxiety when not returning an email within 24 hours of receiving it. I find it appalling that I DREAM about to-do lists. And wake up to check them off. I should be thrown to the bears. (For the record, I DID see black bears this trip. One of them was 20 feet from me as I rode past it on my bike! Don't tell my mom).
So here I am, the day before my EP release show, worn weary from my vacation, strung out by my self-imposed drama, and in eager anticipation of the 45 glorious minutes that will make all the stress worth while.
But the worst is the post-show let down. At 8 pm tomorrow when the show is over, I will experience an additional 45 minutes of euphoria, before plunging into the steep realization that the build-up balloon is burst, the moment of accomplishment has been accomplished, and now it's time to get back to work.
My friend Tavia (who suffered alongside me in the woods) very recently expressed to me her concern about my future. She said, "Girl, I'm just afraid that if you keep going at the rate you're going, you won't have a real vacation for the next 10 years."
Well, there is a reason I do this to myself. If it means I can re-live those 45 minutes on stage every night, sharing it with new people, that's BETTER than vacation. That's like a play-date every damn day. With awesome friends. And toys. That's like skipping in the sunshine. That's like chillin' with the black bears in the woods and sipping on a cold brew.
...actually, NOTHING is as good as sipping a cold beer in the woods. But having EARNED that beer by playing good music for people every night would just be a chart-topper.
So join me! Please, I invite you to take a listen to my new music. Or not, but there's a pretty good likelihood I'll still spam your wall with it anyhow. Walls are good for that.
And afterwards, we can all have a beer.
Thank you to all my friends, musical comrades, and my incredible family for helping me make this EP happen. Without you, none of this passion business would be worth it at all.
love love love and happinesssss,
-<3- Lic
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
The Usefulness of a Degree
I just went to a Swarthmore event at the Marriott Hotel in Back Bay, Boston. It's been a long, long time since I've given my life on that campus a thought. When I graduated from Swarthmore two years ago I was a 22 year-old Theater and Biology Major with new best friends from undergrad, was jobless, had written one song in my whole life, and was moving to the North woods of Wisconsin for the summer before embarking upon music school. Two years later, I'm a 24 year-old professional musician moving to NYC in less than a week, an old college friend, and a co-worker.
Collectively, here's what I've done so far:
I've grown up in Wisconsin, been through college one (and a half) times, met people who've changed the course of my life, met hundreds of others who I'll never meet again, fallen in love, had my heart broken (two and a half times), dealt with anxiety, traveled to other counties, eaten some pretty interesting foods, read some pretty incredible books, read some shit I'd like to forget, earned a repetitive sports injury, taught myself guitar, and have never lived alone. It's a lot. And actually, a lot of that was packed into the four short years I spent at Swarthmore College.
It's funny how other people experience you so differently than you experience yourself. A friend of mine on the Alumni counsel was telling me tonight about HIS experience of me at Swarthmore. He encountered me as a young girl who was afraid of nothing except her own shadow, prone to anxiety attacks and yet painfully outgoing. A girl in search of her own path-- confident, yet full of misdirection; passionate about everything and yet nothing specific. A complete character who would show up at his office with parking tickets for parking anywhere except where was designated, exasperated that the public safety would have no sense of humor about old tickets being left under the windshield wipers to avoid getting fresh ones. I suppose it was sort of a metaphor for what happened with my degree. Academically I tried everything from Biology to Theater in an attempt to figure out where the hell to park my energy and passion. I ended up with a lot of tickets, and kicked out of the school parking lot.
I firmly believe that had I not experienced all of that confusion and wondering and misery and energy spent, however, I would not be able to write a song worth a damn. None of that was energy lost-- it was just research. It's helped me to become self-aware; to inform me in my current life. In that sense, though my degree from Swarthmore didn't prepare me for a profession as a performer, it did ground me in another way: I got a Degree in How to Figure My Shit Out.
I make it sound like I was a lost cause in undergrad. I wasn't. It just took me a very long time to figure out what I wanted to do, and I definitely took a round about way of getting there. But I don't think that's a problem. When asked whether or not Berklee was the right choice for me, I always answer, "Yes, because the timing was right." Had I not gone to Swarthmore and figured out all of the things I was NOT supposed to do FIRST, I would have sunk like a stone at Berklee.
Everyone is different. Some people know exactly what it is they are supposed to do when they come out of the womb. Others, like me, happen upon our passions when we least expect them, sending our lives into unexpected (yet welcome) spirals. But I think what we all have to be thankful for are the choices and experiences that make us who we are in this very moment. We can't take anything back. Life happens, and in turn it becomes the fiber of who we are.
So yes, tonight was embarrassing for a heartbeat what I was reminded of all the times I cried pathetically to my dear friend in the dean's office about "this existential crisis and the other." But at the end of the day, that is what I was going through, and this is who I am now. The only thing I CAN be is an alumn of my own life.
Yuck. Enough cheese (literally. It's all they serve at these alumni events). I'm going to bed because I have to drive to NYC in the morning for a show. I should just move there already or something ;-)
Goodnight!!
-<3- Lic
Collectively, here's what I've done so far:
I've grown up in Wisconsin, been through college one (and a half) times, met people who've changed the course of my life, met hundreds of others who I'll never meet again, fallen in love, had my heart broken (two and a half times), dealt with anxiety, traveled to other counties, eaten some pretty interesting foods, read some pretty incredible books, read some shit I'd like to forget, earned a repetitive sports injury, taught myself guitar, and have never lived alone. It's a lot. And actually, a lot of that was packed into the four short years I spent at Swarthmore College.
It's funny how other people experience you so differently than you experience yourself. A friend of mine on the Alumni counsel was telling me tonight about HIS experience of me at Swarthmore. He encountered me as a young girl who was afraid of nothing except her own shadow, prone to anxiety attacks and yet painfully outgoing. A girl in search of her own path-- confident, yet full of misdirection; passionate about everything and yet nothing specific. A complete character who would show up at his office with parking tickets for parking anywhere except where was designated, exasperated that the public safety would have no sense of humor about old tickets being left under the windshield wipers to avoid getting fresh ones. I suppose it was sort of a metaphor for what happened with my degree. Academically I tried everything from Biology to Theater in an attempt to figure out where the hell to park my energy and passion. I ended up with a lot of tickets, and kicked out of the school parking lot.
I firmly believe that had I not experienced all of that confusion and wondering and misery and energy spent, however, I would not be able to write a song worth a damn. None of that was energy lost-- it was just research. It's helped me to become self-aware; to inform me in my current life. In that sense, though my degree from Swarthmore didn't prepare me for a profession as a performer, it did ground me in another way: I got a Degree in How to Figure My Shit Out.
I make it sound like I was a lost cause in undergrad. I wasn't. It just took me a very long time to figure out what I wanted to do, and I definitely took a round about way of getting there. But I don't think that's a problem. When asked whether or not Berklee was the right choice for me, I always answer, "Yes, because the timing was right." Had I not gone to Swarthmore and figured out all of the things I was NOT supposed to do FIRST, I would have sunk like a stone at Berklee.
Everyone is different. Some people know exactly what it is they are supposed to do when they come out of the womb. Others, like me, happen upon our passions when we least expect them, sending our lives into unexpected (yet welcome) spirals. But I think what we all have to be thankful for are the choices and experiences that make us who we are in this very moment. We can't take anything back. Life happens, and in turn it becomes the fiber of who we are.
So yes, tonight was embarrassing for a heartbeat what I was reminded of all the times I cried pathetically to my dear friend in the dean's office about "this existential crisis and the other." But at the end of the day, that is what I was going through, and this is who I am now. The only thing I CAN be is an alumn of my own life.
Yuck. Enough cheese (literally. It's all they serve at these alumni events). I'm going to bed because I have to drive to NYC in the morning for a show. I should just move there already or something ;-)
Goodnight!!
-<3- Lic
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Pledge to Record/Release a New EP!
My new Pledge Project!
Since bringing in the New Year I have been working on an energy and direction with my music that better encompasses who I am fully as an artist. It’s honest, it’s raw, it’s new, and I’m really excited to share it with you
With the help of fellow writer/producers Nick Paul and Michael Sackler-Berner, and YOU, I’d like to record, package and release a brand-new 3-song EP by having you directly involved in the process from start to finish.
Here’s how we can do this:I have teamed up with a great website called PledgeMusic, which has helped me set up a 60-day campaign for the New EP project. On my project page, you can choose from some exclusive items and engagements that I have listed. In return for you support, I will not only give back as much as you pledge in free music, shows, and personalized merchandise, but I will also provide you with a stream of active updates keeping you inside the project itself. You can tune in to be right alongside me in rehearsal with the players, in writing sessions at Gibson, and while tracking in the studio! You will witness first hand everything it takes to make an EP in NYC with great people--via tweets, videos and updates every step of the way.
Let’s face it-- you’re the reason that independent music is kept alive. And projects like this one not only allow the music to be to spread—they allow you to be its voice.
I want to thank you for all of your continued support and invite you to come on this musical journey with me. It’s going to be quite the exciting ride—and certainly more worth the while with great company!
Here is the URL in case the link doesn't work: http://www.pledgemusic.com/projects/alicialemke
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
My knee hurts.
Wow, booking emails are brain scramblers for sure. Just when you think you have the perfect stock email and your venue list is perfect and your calendar is wide open and your band is eager.... you realize that none of that is perfectly true and that everything shifts. Constantly.
You may be thinking, "This chick is approaching rapid burnout."
It sounds like it, right? I'm pretty sure this is the tip of the iceberg. It's funny how many hours upon hours I will pour myself into something mindless and tedious like booking emails just for one 45-minute set that flies by in a heartbeat because it takes no work at all to have that much fun. Or, it's that much fun when you get to share it with other people. Hence the booking in the first place. That should be my header: "Please enable a good time. Preferably with pay." .... hardly sounds legal.
I'm not complaining. I have it good. I spend every day thinking of ways, bigger and better, to make 'playing' a profession. My work is to hang out with my guitar. I write music and get to play it with people for other people, who in turn inspire more music. I have supportive parents who believe in me and are willing to put up with their 20-something daughter NOT becoming a doctor. I've been like, "Listen, if I was going to be a doctor, I wouldn't even get a REAL job until I was 30. It's JUST like being a musician!" And they're actually cool with it. (I guess the random Bachelors degree in Theater is paying off after all. The minor in Biology is not).
Despite the benefits of my feverish plotting and self-created haze of idealism, there must be something to counter-act all of this artistic chaos. Nothing perfect can be created without balance-- a truth I am discovering the hard way. Just like all of those hours in the Swarthmore library that guaranteed the expansion of my brain -- with the gain came extreme loss of social grace. Similarly, the life of a professional musician provides some very interesting pendulum swings that require reins. I, for instance, used to be a varity athlete. Now, after only a year and a half of living in a practice room, sprained my knee by getting onto a stool at a diner. Right before consuming a breakfast for two. Seriously?
I need balance, people.
So here I am, writing to you from my bedroom where I am currently icing my injury and planning a future of balance. This requires ample rest, scheduled socializing (mostly so I don't lose the wonderful friends I am lucky to have. Love you guys!), REGULAR EXERCISE (oops, that was on caps lock, but I like the emphasis), being outdoors, and the occasional zone where nothing goes through my brain at all (good luck with that one). I realized very abruptly this past weekend that actually, NONE of these things were happening in my life. I had become a machine. And this was a detriment not only to myself, but also the people around me. Lets face it, machines are frustrating. Especially ones that have system meltdowns and need new parts.
Plus, at the end of the day, summer is coming. And I am not going to be this damn pale the rest of the year.
I want to be a very successful person professionally-- I plan on it. But I already am successful in many ways. I have a wonderful family, amazing friends, and an unerring passion. And those things not only fuel professional success, but also make any of that eventual success worth it in the first place. Thank you to all of you who have continued to support me, even as I get nuttier and busier with this music business. I love you, and you're the real reason I work so hard.
From the Bedside, signing out.
-<3- Lic
You may be thinking, "This chick is approaching rapid burnout."
It sounds like it, right? I'm pretty sure this is the tip of the iceberg. It's funny how many hours upon hours I will pour myself into something mindless and tedious like booking emails just for one 45-minute set that flies by in a heartbeat because it takes no work at all to have that much fun. Or, it's that much fun when you get to share it with other people. Hence the booking in the first place. That should be my header: "Please enable a good time. Preferably with pay." .... hardly sounds legal.
I'm not complaining. I have it good. I spend every day thinking of ways, bigger and better, to make 'playing' a profession. My work is to hang out with my guitar. I write music and get to play it with people for other people, who in turn inspire more music. I have supportive parents who believe in me and are willing to put up with their 20-something daughter NOT becoming a doctor. I've been like, "Listen, if I was going to be a doctor, I wouldn't even get a REAL job until I was 30. It's JUST like being a musician!" And they're actually cool with it. (I guess the random Bachelors degree in Theater is paying off after all. The minor in Biology is not).
Despite the benefits of my feverish plotting and self-created haze of idealism, there must be something to counter-act all of this artistic chaos. Nothing perfect can be created without balance-- a truth I am discovering the hard way. Just like all of those hours in the Swarthmore library that guaranteed the expansion of my brain -- with the gain came extreme loss of social grace. Similarly, the life of a professional musician provides some very interesting pendulum swings that require reins. I, for instance, used to be a varity athlete. Now, after only a year and a half of living in a practice room, sprained my knee by getting onto a stool at a diner. Right before consuming a breakfast for two. Seriously?
I need balance, people.
So here I am, writing to you from my bedroom where I am currently icing my injury and planning a future of balance. This requires ample rest, scheduled socializing (mostly so I don't lose the wonderful friends I am lucky to have. Love you guys!), REGULAR EXERCISE (oops, that was on caps lock, but I like the emphasis), being outdoors, and the occasional zone where nothing goes through my brain at all (good luck with that one). I realized very abruptly this past weekend that actually, NONE of these things were happening in my life. I had become a machine. And this was a detriment not only to myself, but also the people around me. Lets face it, machines are frustrating. Especially ones that have system meltdowns and need new parts.
Plus, at the end of the day, summer is coming. And I am not going to be this damn pale the rest of the year.
I want to be a very successful person professionally-- I plan on it. But I already am successful in many ways. I have a wonderful family, amazing friends, and an unerring passion. And those things not only fuel professional success, but also make any of that eventual success worth it in the first place. Thank you to all of you who have continued to support me, even as I get nuttier and busier with this music business. I love you, and you're the real reason I work so hard.
From the Bedside, signing out.
-<3- Lic
Thursday, March 17, 2011
It's really that simple...
So I've been pretty cranky the past few weeks. It could have something to do with the fact that I was feverish and had a barking cough that prevented me from sleeping. It could have something to do with the fact that I needed Nyquil in order to sleep at all. But REGARDLESS, I have been hopelessly cranky with no answers at all as to "Why in the Hell?"
Then this week's band rehearsals happened. Not to sound utterly cliche, but honestly, playing music with people I love changes everything. The state of dormancy where I've been for the past month, playing only acoustic shows and recovering in isolation, removed me from what makes me happiest. And I am happy to report that my band members feel just as revved as I am!
So now, fresh perspective, some new arrangements and a full-night's rest later, I'm ready to rock. I have 14 gigs lined up for the next two months and we're ready to tear shit up. If you're around, it'd be nice to see you at a show. I promise to be in good spirits :-)
Then this week's band rehearsals happened. Not to sound utterly cliche, but honestly, playing music with people I love changes everything. The state of dormancy where I've been for the past month, playing only acoustic shows and recovering in isolation, removed me from what makes me happiest. And I am happy to report that my band members feel just as revved as I am!
So now, fresh perspective, some new arrangements and a full-night's rest later, I'm ready to rock. I have 14 gigs lined up for the next two months and we're ready to tear shit up. If you're around, it'd be nice to see you at a show. I promise to be in good spirits :-)
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Moving On
You said you’d always love me
That I was something else
That no other lady had held your heart as well
A silly trusting fool
I believed that it was true until you left
And each day that wanders by recalls your warming smile
I tell myself we weren’t meant to be
But truth be told you had my soul
And I’m forever changed because you loved me
And here I am, imagining
That soon you’ll be replaced
I’ll take him in, or he’ll take me
Quickly we’ll escape
And then my heart will heal accordingly
But when that rebound’s over
The shimmer of its spell is broken…
I’ll be forced to fall into step just like before
Adjust again
I want to trust again
I want to know it’s not a lie to be adored
The blowing winds have changed your mind
And the stories that you tell
Your every season brings its lies
And some truths with it as well
My only hope is that you come to finally understand your fate
That whomever’s heart you handle next
Won’t suffer your mistakes
I know that I still love you
And that it hurts to say aloud
All the ways in which I’d adjust our love
If I could just do it over somehow
But there’s nothing I could ever do
To slow the Earth and get my way
Times are changing
And I, too, must change to keep the pace
-- every person I know I take in another person as part of me --
Feb 23rd. -<3-
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Here Comes the Sun
Change is brewing. It seems like the winter months are a hibernation for more than the bears. This new year I really decided to buckle down and prioritize my life based on not only what i find to be important, but also based on what I need to survive. Bears go into hibernation after gathering and eating enough food to survive for many long cold months. It seems to me that I gathered all of the resources I needed over the past years in college to prepare me for this long winter. I have been working very hard, organizing, writing, building on what I believe to be important. The essential ingredients? An idea, a guitar, food, family, the internet (it's a mixed blessing)... and most importantly, LOVE.
There are many things we can survive without. Many many things. Believe it or not we could even do it without this internet business. But one thing I know I cannot survive without is love from my world around me. It's essential. It fuels songwriting, it encourages me to get up in the morning despite the cold temperature, and warms me up when the sun goes down at 4 pm.
I've realized that at the end of the day, love is absolutely the most important thing-- loving what I do and who I share it with.
As the days are growing a bit warmer and the sun stays out a bit later, I'm continuing to focus intently on realizing my dreams. But one thing is for certain: nothing is worth it in the end when love is not around you. Love is in an embrace, it's in the suns rays, it's in our coffee cups, the stories we tell and re-tell, and it's in the smile from a stranger you've passed before. Don't turn it away, and certainly don't ever prevent it. Love is what we need to survive this long winter.
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right
Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right
Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right
It's all right
There are many things we can survive without. Many many things. Believe it or not we could even do it without this internet business. But one thing I know I cannot survive without is love from my world around me. It's essential. It fuels songwriting, it encourages me to get up in the morning despite the cold temperature, and warms me up when the sun goes down at 4 pm.
I've realized that at the end of the day, love is absolutely the most important thing-- loving what I do and who I share it with.
As the days are growing a bit warmer and the sun stays out a bit later, I'm continuing to focus intently on realizing my dreams. But one thing is for certain: nothing is worth it in the end when love is not around you. Love is in an embrace, it's in the suns rays, it's in our coffee cups, the stories we tell and re-tell, and it's in the smile from a stranger you've passed before. Don't turn it away, and certainly don't ever prevent it. Love is what we need to survive this long winter.
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right
Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right
Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right
It's all right
Sunday, February 6, 2011
MY EPK IS FINISHED!!
About Alicia Lemke
My EPK is finally finished, and you can check it out by clicking on the above link!
I ha a blast in LA finishing everything... I never thought I'd say this.... but I might actually be able to spend some time in LA. I think that the people. in any circumstance, make the place. I happened to be fortunate enough to fall in with such an amazing group of people.
Cindy, Al, Nick, Rimo, Carole, EVERYONE-- love you guys :-)
My EPK is finally finished, and you can check it out by clicking on the above link!
I ha a blast in LA finishing everything... I never thought I'd say this.... but I might actually be able to spend some time in LA. I think that the people. in any circumstance, make the place. I happened to be fortunate enough to fall in with such an amazing group of people.
Cindy, Al, Nick, Rimo, Carole, EVERYONE-- love you guys :-)
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Venice Beach
Al LeVine and I just went down to Venice beach to film a bright sunny beach scene with tourists, strange t-shirts, highly-caloric food, and packs of strangely-clad, bong-bearing hippies. But... it was raining. Again. It rained on our Venice Beach parade.
Despite the clouds we persevered, got some great footage of me harassing an All-American lifeguard named Dave, and are back in the studio finishing up editing on this EPK. The show must, after all, go on.
Stay tuned this coming week for the new website that matches this lovely blog, an EPK featuring my new music, and 4 brand new singles up on iTunes. It's all coming together thanks to Al Levine, Cindy Segura, Nick Martinez, Rimo Moreno, and Tao Creative. Thank you guys!
<3
Despite the clouds we persevered, got some great footage of me harassing an All-American lifeguard named Dave, and are back in the studio finishing up editing on this EPK. The show must, after all, go on.
Stay tuned this coming week for the new website that matches this lovely blog, an EPK featuring my new music, and 4 brand new singles up on iTunes. It's all coming together thanks to Al Levine, Cindy Segura, Nick Martinez, Rimo Moreno, and Tao Creative. Thank you guys!
<3
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Flat Tires and Rainy Days
Everything that goes up must come down.
This morning I set out at 11:30 am for Newburyport, where I have my weekly guitar lesson with John Curtis. I always look forward to Wednesdays because it's a chance for me to have time to myself in the car, to visit a lovely seaside town (incidentally co-founded by my ancestor, Tristrin Coffin), and to reflect on where I am with my music.
This morning I wasn't so lucky. Amidst the gray sky and splattering rain was a wish for me to not make it to Newburyport. Shortly after pulling onto Storrow drive, my GPS froze, my iPhone shut down, and as I glanced down to see what in God's name was going on, I hit a jolting pothole that blew my tire and forced me to retreat to some back alley in Back Bay. There I sat for over an hour, waiting for AAA, and being mocked by the rain. Luckily I had my ukulele and in spite of my situation (or because of it), wrote a song.
When the rain
is splattering across my windshield pane
And I'm sittin' waiting for the AAA
To right the wrongs of my unlucky day
And when the clounds
Are throwing shadows of doubt my way
There's nothing much that I can say
but C'est la vie...
It's just me and my ukulele singin'
What goes up must come down
Everything that goes up must come down
Everything that goes up must come down
Everything that goes up must come down
And though I can't see the big picture clearly
I should know
Know I'll be okay
Know that with some luck
What goes down
Must come up.
...those last few lines could be questionable... you get my sentiment. The take-home message for me is to just let go and do what I can but not get worried over situations out of my control. Make the most of every moment. When is doubt, write a song, right?
This morning I set out at 11:30 am for Newburyport, where I have my weekly guitar lesson with John Curtis. I always look forward to Wednesdays because it's a chance for me to have time to myself in the car, to visit a lovely seaside town (incidentally co-founded by my ancestor, Tristrin Coffin), and to reflect on where I am with my music.
This morning I wasn't so lucky. Amidst the gray sky and splattering rain was a wish for me to not make it to Newburyport. Shortly after pulling onto Storrow drive, my GPS froze, my iPhone shut down, and as I glanced down to see what in God's name was going on, I hit a jolting pothole that blew my tire and forced me to retreat to some back alley in Back Bay. There I sat for over an hour, waiting for AAA, and being mocked by the rain. Luckily I had my ukulele and in spite of my situation (or because of it), wrote a song.
When the rain
is splattering across my windshield pane
And I'm sittin' waiting for the AAA
To right the wrongs of my unlucky day
And when the clounds
Are throwing shadows of doubt my way
There's nothing much that I can say
but C'est la vie...
It's just me and my ukulele singin'
What goes up must come down
Everything that goes up must come down
Everything that goes up must come down
Everything that goes up must come down
And though I can't see the big picture clearly
I should know
Know I'll be okay
Know that with some luck
What goes down
Must come up.
...those last few lines could be questionable... you get my sentiment. The take-home message for me is to just let go and do what I can but not get worried over situations out of my control. Make the most of every moment. When is doubt, write a song, right?
Friday, January 7, 2011
Malthus
"The exertions that men find it necessary to make, in order to support themselves... frequently awaken faculties that might otherwise have lain for ever dormant, and it has been commonly remarked that new and extraordinary situations generally create minds adequate to grapple with the difficulties in which they are inv...olved." -Malthus
I would like to believe that in following my passion for music, and in the hopes of one day supporting myself with that passion, unseen and magical mental forces have come to my aid, that my brain is adapting, and that fate will one day allow me to meet my goals.
...it would be sweet.
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