Death is all around us. Mostly in America, we avoid it.  For some reason, it's comforting to acknowledge Lady Death and make peace with her. 

When I write a song that confronts my fears...when I sing and breathe out that fear, that ominous presence--a kind of exorcism happens. And the fear is banished. Or at least slinks away sullenly into a dark corner somewhere.

That's what happened with this song: healing magic. (Also, it's kind of badass, as acoustic songs go.)

A recurring nightmare.

A nightmare no more.

Exorcism.
 

Update: Check out the song "If I Die in My Dreams", by Jezebel's new side project Bye Bye Banshee.

Masters of Performance: Chris Cornell, Part 2 

Note: I just woke up this morning to find out about Chris Cornell's death. He was a music hero to me, mostly because of his phenomenal, expressive singing voice and partly because Soundgarden was one of my all-time favorite rock bands. RIP, Chris Cornell. The world won't be the same without you. 5/18/17 -JJ
 
7 live performance moves you should steal from Chris Cornell:

1. Create a Conversation. 
   One of the great things about watching Chris Cornell perform in Seattle was watching the ongoing, natural conversation that was happening between him and thousands of fans. While making that kind of connection with total strangers is more challenging, engaging the audience—asking them questions, answering their questions or just bantering like you would with a friend—makes a show personal and memorable. Janis Joplin was brilliant at inviting the audience to converse with her, as was Townes Van Zandt. When you listen to their respective live recordings, you feel like you’re part of something…instead of just listening to something.
    
2. Perform with Emotion. 
   One of the biggest gifts a performer can give the audience is to share their emotions in a genuine and raw way. I see this so rarely; Chris Cornell is pretty great at it. It doesn’t hurt to start out with a gorgeous voice, but plenty of great singers fail to move me emotionally. Conveying true emotion—and bringing the crowd along to feel it with you—is harder to do then most people think. It means vulnerability, letting go of ego so you can really ‘feel’ what you’re singing/playing. It also means letting go of self-consciousness and the need for perfection.
    
   Perfection is not terribly interesting, especially if the song or performance lacks emotion. Some roughness is absolutely essential.
    
3. Provide some eye candy. 
   Cornell had an understated but beautiful set and visually it set the mood for the evening. Humans don’t just hear things with our ears, we “hear” with our eyes, too. I love it when smaller bands or individuals take the time to do this—it really adds magic to a performance.
   
   Sure, it takes a little extra effort to create a backdrop or add a few stage props, some lighting effects, etc. but it helps your audience get (and stay) in the mood and feel more like they’re at a show, and less like they’re just watching some random band.
   
   P.S. unless you’re as recognizable as Chris Cornell, you should probably have your band/artist name displayed on stage during your set. This is helpful for getting new fans to know who you are and for them to reference when they're sharing pics/videos of your show. If you’re looking for DIY backdrop ideas there are some excellent tips here.
    
4. Use effective transitions to tie songs together. 
   I think many artists (especially ones who perform solo) struggle with how to tie the songs together and keep momentum going as they switch instruments, tune, etc. This was one of my favorite parts of the Higher Truth show: I absolutely loved the transitions between songs. In addition to conversing with the crowd, Cornell had a record player on stage and his tech played snippets of vinyl sometimes between the live songs. In addition, Cornell used a loop pedal sparingly but effectively during some transitions and as a swelling cacophony at the end of the show. It really got the crowd pumped for the encore.
    
5. Invite a guest or two—living or dead—to join you on stage. 
   For this tour, Chris Cornell played mostly solo and acoustic.But he had an excellent cellist, Bryan Gibson, who joined him for several songs throughout the evening; he was absolutely stellar and gathered his own applause during the show. Cornell also told a very hilarious—but clearly fictitious—tale of how they met “back in the day”. In addition, Pearl Jam guitarist Mike McCready joined him onstage for a couple of songs, much to the delight of the crowd.
    
   But one of the appearances that impressed me the most was Cornell’s former backing pianist—and songwriter in her own right—Natasha Shneider, who died of cancer in 2008. Cornell had recorded her piano part years earlier and put it on vinyl.  He explained this as he set the needle on the record; as her beautiful playing filled the auditorium, Cornell and Gibson rounded out the trio. It was a really lovely song and a fitting tribute to his friend.
    
6. Change things up. Frequently.
   Honestly, when I first saw the stage before the show, I’ll admit I did a teeny tiny eye roll at the 7…8…9? guitars on stage. For a SOLO acoustic show, mind you. But it made sense during the show—Cornell kept the performance interesting by changing things up frequently. In addition to some of the things I mentioned earlier—such as musical guests and good transitions—he changed instruments (different tunings, different sounds, harmonica) regularly throughout the set. The show had a lot of variety, considering he was on stage by himself for most of the 3 hours he performed.
   
   Oh, and wow: kudos to his hard-working guitar tech who barely stood still the entire show.
    
7. Steal a clever idea from a master performer.
   At some point in the show I realized that Cornell was wearing a harmonica rack around his neck—sans harmonica—and that he was actually singing into it, instead of a headset mic. I marveled over this clever idea before he explained how he saw Neil Young do it; Cornell stole the idea from him.
   
   
   I hope some of these ideas are helpful.  Please let me know if you have some additional advice for people looking to improve their live show. 
   
   
   Sin-cerely yours,
   
   
   Jez

 

Masters of Performance: Chris Cornell, Part 1 – Seattle ‘Higher Truth’ Show

 
Note: I just woke up this morning to find out about Chris Cornell's death. He was a music hero to me, mostly because of his phenomenal, expressive singing voice and partly because Soundgarden was one of my all-time favorite rock bands. RIP, Chris Cornell. The world won't be the same without you. 5/18/17 -JJ

***************************************************

I’m in my overpriced, moldy Fremont living room listening to the hazy, warm sounds of The Cult’s ‘Love’ album on vinyl, trying to decide what you tell you about last night. Damn. What a show.
 
After my recent move to Seattle, I found out Chris Cornell was going to playing a solo acoustic gig at Benaroya Hall, in the heart of downtown. Since I was on the mailing list (and if you’re a fan you probably should be on it), I got the early box office deal and splurged on 3^rd row center.
 
Now I’ve seen Cornell perform with Audioslave a few times, mainly due to my ex-boyfriend David, aka ‘the Minneapolis Mensch’. For many years, he was a sound guy/tour manager for Chevelle; I went to a few shows the two bands did together back in the day. I really dug Cornell’s smoky, multi-octave vocals, so I started listening to a shitload of Soundgarden, digging beyond the few hits I’d heard on the radio as a kid. Truthfully, it turned me into one of those annoyingly un-hip post-band-breakup fans. Looking-forward-to-the-reunion-‘cause-I-never-saw-them-live-before kind of deal. I apologize profusely for any pain this may cause real Soundgarden fans.
 
Fast forward {x?} years and I’m in Seattle, stoked about seeing Cornell’s solo show, strolling through a HUGE CLOUD OF POT SMOKE—some of which I may or may not be responsible for—and into Benaroya Hall. Some ridiculously nice older-lady ushers point the way to the “good seats” and I settled my leather dress-dressed self into the roomy third row, a mere 20 feet from the stage.
 

At this point, if I were a Chris Cornell fan-freak, I would launch into some annoyingly-detailed play-by-play, citing every goddamn thing that happened during his set, including analysis of each song he played, the exact order he played the songs and how Cornell kinda-sorta clammed halfway through this one particular song but it was still SO amazing and blah, blah, fucking blah. 

Well, I’m not going to do that.  It sounds like a fairly tedious post for someone else to write. Probably some pale bearded hetero-man, who happens to have Mr. Cornell on his ‘allowed-to-be-gay-for’ list. Actually, if you must know some of these things, you might want to reference Dusty Henry's review on Consequence of Sound; it's detailed but not tedious. 
 
I CAN tell you this: the return of this Rain City son to a sold-out crowd of fans and friends was a beautiful thing to experience. He played almost everything I wanted to hear (except Mailman) and almost everything EVERYONE wanted to hear (except Outshined) because HE PLAYED FOR 3 MOTHERFUCKING HOURS, much of it solo. He played and played and sang and sang until some of the 40 and 50-somethings who had kids waiting at home with teenager babysitters had to leave.  And then he did an encore. 
 
SO instead of lulling you to sleep with a detailed analysis of the drop-D or drop-(insert favorite here) tunings on Cornell’s 9 or 10 guitars, in a few days I’ll publish a follow-up piece called Masters of Performance: Chris Cornell, Part 2 – 7 Ways to Make Your Next Live Performance Shine. Maybe there will be 10 things if I get all Irish about it. I think we can all benefit from the interesting creative decisions and killer performance skills that went into making last night’s show a memorable experience.
 
In the meantime, I’m packing my things. Moving day looms once again, like the approaching clouds of winter.  




-JJ
 

Read Masters of Performance: Chris Cornell, Part 2 

Hi Everybody-
 
Just wanted to let you know that I'll be in town playing a few shows in the Twin Cities this weekend.  I miss Minnesota badly; I haven't been home in nearly 3 years.  
 
A couple of months ago, I moved to Seattle from Texas, but it hasn't been all sunshine and candy canes and unicorns. But then again, Seattle isn't really known for any of those things.
 
On the second day of my journey from Austin to Seattle, my dog "Z" keeled over suddenly.  After living several years with an extremely bad heart condition, he fell over, seized and then died in moments.  I couldn’t revive him; instead I held him and cried until he went cold. His ashes lay in a box by my bed, along with the ashes of my first dog Hunter, who died only 9 months ago.  For 10 and 13 years respectively, they were my faithful companions. They still sleep by me at night.  Sometimes they visit me in my dreams. 
 
Both deaths have hit me very hard.  The loss of the second one was more painful because there's a huge void in my home.  They were my family—better and much closer to me than my flesh and blood.  The loss of their presence and love have brought a deeper, new kind of pain.  I know this is natural and realize that the grief will follow me through this lifetime (this excellent article on pet loss explains why).  

I still cry every day.  I miss their unique, beautiful souls; I’m not convinced we will ever see each other again.  So I wear mementos—lockets containing their ashes.  I write songs about them.  I draw them in crude form, inspired by Dias de los Muertos. I’m practicing my drawing, practicing my grief.  I'm memorializing their place in my life...and my place in theirs.
 
When the dogs and I nearly died in a house fire several years ago, I started really exploring what death means to me.  For much of my life, I avoided the scary aspects of Death by being "born again". The fear of dying and then going to hell was a driving force in my life, well into my 20’s.  That same fear of impending death and judgment drives many of us in this American culture.  We’re so afraid that we don’t question our core beliefs—the beliefs that govern our lives.   Fear encourages obedience...and i'm not big on obedience.
 
Death has often been portrayed as mostly masculine throughout the ages. As the Grim Reaper, Death becomes a terrifying figure, an imposing spectre designed to frighten the masses.  But what if Death was not that way at all?  What if Death was a beautiful, mysterious woman? What if all aspects of death were tied to the feminine divine?  How might we live our lives differently?
 
My new project is very personal—it’s an exploration of this concept, but it also represents growth in my writing and musical sensibilities.  I started this alternative "career" path fairly late in life, but I’m trying to make up for lost time. This latest project—Bye Bye Banshee—is all about death. And also remembrance.  For those interested in the beginning stages of music, rough demos of this new project are available, below.
 
I’ll be debuting some of these new tunes this weekend when I open up for the freakin’ amazing Rasputina Saturday night Aug 22 at the Turf Club in St. Paul.  I'll be backed by some of the members of my former band (Jezebel Jones & Her Wicked Ways) and it’ll be great see so many friends—especially those in the local music scene—who have been incredibly cool and supportive these past several years.
 
I’ll also be doing a solo old-school country set at my favorite record store of all time, Hymie’s Vintage Records (Laura and Dave are the BEST) and also playing a solo show at the Nomad on Sunday night Aug 23 with my talented friends Blood Brother (Philip Westfall’s one-man band) and the ever-evolving Swallows.

View details for all Twin Cities shows.
 
Some of this music has never been played in public yet—and I can’t wait to share it with you folks in my hometown first. Please say hello—I'll be hanging around before and after the shows.  Hope to see you all soon!!!
 
XoXo,
 
Jezebel
 

Dear Readers,

The other day I received some mail that I thought you might find interesting. My response follows...



Dear Dave-
 
Thanks so very much for your thoughtful and—dare I say—highly imaginative letter, but especially for your flatterous words.  
 
A musician always loves people who will take the time to kiss ass a little, but preferably a LOT. We music-types have huge EGOs, imho!  Usually that “flattery” takes slightly different forms, though, like praising my original music or comparing me to artists I dig, such as Nick Cave, Billie Holiday or the great Barry Manilow. Sometimes people just compliment me on my quality footwear. But saying you covet my domain name—JezebelJones.com—is almost just as good.
 
As a fellow arteest, I’m sure you can understand the importance of a owning the same dot com name as your already-established stage/band name. In fact, it may be slightly more important than owning the dot com name of a character in a yet-to-be-completed first novel.
 
Although I didn’t read your fan-fiction—primarily because I’m not a fan-fiction fan, but also because I hate to read—I’m sure your upcoming novel will be equal parts moody and dangerously brilliant, and sell like DC crack til you finally make the New York Times Best Seller List.  If a talentless hack like E.L. James (also a fan-fiction writer!) can manage to write a best seller, literally anyone can.
 
I understand why you feel marketing your upcoming first novel/runaway debut bestseller is more important than my relatively trivial musical endeavors. As you so politely did NOT point out, soon you’ll be outselling Stephen King while I’m opening up for some puppet show at a theme park in California. So really…what’s the point in me even keeping JezebelJones.com ?
 
That’s a tough question to answer. I guess while you’ve been riffing on JK Rowling’s ideas, I’ve been working on writing unique, “riff-free” music, getting the word out about it and building a community of friends and supporters.  I’m sure you can understand why it’s at least marginally important for me to keep using JezebelJones.com.

Also, my Turkish fans might be really pissed if you took over the domain.  I really, really don’t want to let them down. They're very nice. And they’ve been through enough lately, don’t you think?
 
That said, I’m not entirely unreceptive to selling the domain name for the right price. Turkey will understand…eventually.

Since you didn’t mention money at all, I assume that money is no object. I get it. That’s cool. I know several trust fund kids, and they’re only mean drunks when they’re drinking. But considering the time, money, passion and pain it has cost me these past several years to write/produce music, build a fan base and promote my site—not to mention the continued long-tail value over the next several decades…
 
In short, I would be willing to sell the JezebelJones.com domain name for...(drum-roll, please)... 

$1,000,000 US.

It feels like the right amount for this “prime Internet property”, as you call it. Funds would need to be verified beforehand, naturally.   But I think we really “get” each other, so maybe we could skip that part. However, I would feel much better if I could sign the transfer paperwork after your payment posts to the Swiss bank account I plan to open.
 
As far as the hosting, rebuilding and re-architecting of my website, I would prefer not to have a Drupal developer touch JezebelJones.com. Ever. Please never mention it again, as it is extremely upsetting to me for obvious reasons. “Unsweeten the deal”, so to speak.
 
In summary, I prefer to keep JezebelJones.com.  But money talks. And bullshit does something else altogether, but that’s not important here. I’m willing to part with the domain name if I can afford to quit my 9-5 job, pay off my debts and pursue my music full time.  We all have to make sacrifices, I guess.
 
At this point you're probably wondering what I’d do with the money from the sale of my domain name. Most likely, I would buy a tiny cottage in Ireland or lease a flat in Paris or Berlin where I could smoke gratuitous amounts of high-quality marijuana, write my next album and take up urban landscape painting. Maybe Barcelona would make more sense for all of that. Well, I’d better go brush up on my Spanish.
 
Looking forward to your kind response.  Adiós (aka, “goodbye”).


-Jezebel Jones


P.S. To your point, no, I wasn't able to to secure "jezebeljones" as some of my social media handles, thus I go by "msjezebeljones" on Twitter, YouTube and Instagram.   You said that msjezebeljones.com would be a “perfect alternative domain name” for my website. I completely agree except I would replace the “alternative” with “additional”, at least until you purchase my domain.  So I have additionally secured msjezebeljones.com in anticipation of that joyous event.


UPDATE 7/23/15:

Dave emailed me back.  This is what he had to say...

Thanks for the forthright and humorous response. If-ever I have $1,000,000 to spend on a domain name, I’ll be sure to come back with a new and proper proposal!

A True Story of Weed & Backwards Masking by Jezebel Jones

********************************************************************

Note: This is a repost of a piece I did to celebrate 4/20 a couple of years ago. I took it down temporarily because I was concerned about "random" testing at my day job in Texas.  Have I mentioned I'm happy to be living in Washington state with lots of other "devil worshippers"? ;)

********************************************************************

I like to think I smoke marijuana because Freddy Mercury told me to.

Back when I was a child, I’d spend weeks of my summer at some Pentecostal camp or another, usually with my family. When I was about 12 or 13, I was finally old enough to go to Teen Camp on my own, which meant less crafts, less supervision, more sophisticated pranks (quick-set cherry jello in the toilets) and longer church services with age-appropriate topics like the evils of drinking, pre-marital sex and masturbation. Hello, Jesus Camp!

That week was a several hour presentation by not-quite-famous Peters Brothers, a pair of slick sibling “saints” who traveled around the country peddling a titillating, anti-rock music multimedia presentation called ‘The Truth About Rock’. Three glorious hours of demonic imagery & ungodly music mashed up with bouts of fiery preaching, followed by an offering and an altar call to repent of your music sins. It was profitable (tax-free!). Sexy and gory and riveting, OH MY!

Now, one of the topics covered in this anti-rock music extravaganza (you can watch an older 80’s version on YouTube and laugh your ass off) was backmasking or backwards masking, which is a technique used to hide subliminal sounds/phrases in music. These messages are only understandable if you were to play that bit backwards, and the Peters Brothers provided convincing evidence of evail, Satanic messages within popular rock songs.

One of the audio clips they played was “Another One Bites the Dust” by Queen, which happened to be a favorite song as a child. By favorite song that I mean we roller skated to it in grade school. They and many other preachers were saying Queen communed with the Devil because the song has the message, “It’s Fun to Smoke Marijuana” or “Decide to Smoke Marijuana” backmasked into the song. Hail Satan!

Fast forward many years later I’m living with my folks in Florida and waiting tables. If that doesn’t drive you to all kinds of drugs, I don’t know what will. Weed was readily available. I had given it the old “college try” in college but didn’t get high that first time.

This time I was a bit older—maybe even wiser—and wanted to know what I was getting into. So I start doing research on marijuana on the internet—the effects, the different types, the history of use, the laws. And that’s how I found out about medical marijuana and how it’s helping so many people cope with various conditions (especially pain) with minimal if any side effects.

It was an eye-opening experience—marijuana was not the evil drug that we’d been warned about. In fact, it was much safer than many common over-the-counter & prescription drugs…and it seemed like it might be fun. So I decided to give it another try. The first time I got high was really amazing. With my mind relaxed, I chatted happily with my co-workers, forgetting my troubles for a few hours, with absolutely no hangover in the morning. And no regrets.

Several years later when I started writing and playing, marijuana was the ultimate Muse, the valve that opened the flow of creativity for me. Yes, I have stupid stoner moments, and plenty of them. But I’ve also solved complex problems, eased physical pain, had deep spiritual insights and awakenings, and stopped taking anti-depressants with dangerous side effects. And experienced much growth, creativity and satisfaction in my musical development. Personally, I’m thankful for this good plant.

While we were recording my first record “Queen of the Devil’s Rodeo” I was telling my co-producer—David J Russ—about the Peters Brothers, when suddenly I remembered that reference to the Queen Song. We had a good laugh about it. Then I had an idea…

For laughs, I recorded me saying “decide to smoke marijuana” and we reversed it, adding it to one of my songs; a homage to Queen, a bit of a “fuck you” to the crazy Peters Brothers and a pro-pot statement all wrapped up in a private joke, buried in a song. You can listen to The Prisoner here; the marijuana bit happens around 1:42, and we threw in an extra backmasked bit at the end (reversed a piece of the whole song) to give it an authentic “Satanic” sound.

Happy 4/20 & Happy Record Store Day 2013!!! Please support legal weed AND your local record stores.

-Jezebel

P.S. As I’m writing this post, I’m playing Queen’s Greatest Hits on vinyl. And smiling. Hail Satan!

P.S.S. And if you missed this awesome Backwards Masking DJ mix of 'Another One Bites the Dust', check it out.
 

Goodbye, Texas.  

I'll be hitting the road soon--remaining dog at my side--driving  through Roswell, NM, Moab, UT and Boise, ID, on my way to my new (and old) home, Seattle.  I've landed a good day job, and a songwriter often needs one of those things to pay the bills.  I love a good road trip and this one's bound to be inspiring. 

I'm talkin' about the road.  Inspiring. Expansive. Full of Revelations.

But if the car is the modern American horse, what are planes?  

Planes are annoying.  Too much waiting. Too little room, obnoxious people, crying babies. And then there's the crotch-grabbing before you even board the plane...

We teach our children not to let strangers touch their genitals (STRANGER, DANGER!!!), but apparently random agents of the government can touch our genitals all they want, in a public place.

Today one of my favorite alternative weekly's--the Denver Westword--posted a funny story on TSA crotch-grabbing memes.  As I scrolled through, I laughed but started to get a teeny bit annoyed that all the TSA memes they posted were of MEN.  I have first hand experience with the TSA fondling my labia, and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one. 

So I thought I'd post a female TSA meme--surely they existed.  But after some unsuccessful googling, apparently the internet thinks airport crotch groping it IS a male problem, because I couldn't find much in the way of female TSA memes.  

So I found a picture that works (and jives well with my upbringing) and made my own. 

Happy Sunday, Everyone.  

Fly America at your own risk.

-Jez