SkolNotes

New Website, New Blog

2010-05-22T11:51:00.004-04:00

Hey everyone. There is big news in the land of SkolNotes. It's time to make the announcement:

The new website is up, www.alexskolnick.com It's also the new location of the blog.

Here's the latest post, my tribute to the late great Ronnie James Dio "Goodbye Ronnie James Dio"

Its going to be a much better system having the blog contained within our own website. You'll be able to comment on the new blog and have individual threads as well. We don't have all your old comments synced to the new blog yet, but that's being worked on. There are also some new features being tweaked for the new site, its not complete yet, but it was time to get it up and running.

We will keep this blog up for reference, but all comments will eventually be disabled.

I really appreciate you all helping get Skolnotes up and running and into the formidable force that its become. I look forward to many more entertaining and informative dialogues in our new location. Thanks again and see you over there at the new SkolNotes.

Flexitarianism

2010-05-06T19:47:00.013-04:00

Recently, I became familiar with the term 'Flexitarianism.' A flexitarian, according to Wikipedia, is someone who decreases meat consumption without eliminating it entirely from his or her diet. Here is an MSNBC article "Meet The Flexitarians." This basically describes how I already eat.

I have some friends who consider themselves vegetarian, 'vegan' and a few who are 'raw vegan.' I respect their beliefs and place a similar value on meals that are fresh, natural and health conscious. I try to shop at environmentally aware stores such as Whole Foods and enjoy a lot of healthy meals, especially here in New York where there are a good number of high quality organic and macrobiotic restaurants. I understand the need to move away from a typical processed, saturated, meat heavy diet and be more aware of where your food is coming from. However, I refuse to label and limit myself in such a way.

When I visit great high quality, upscale restaurants, such as Lola in Cleveland, Les Halles in New York or Chez Panise in Berkeley, I don't want to only order the token vegetarian selection. That would feel disrespectful to the chef and the art of cooking itself. And the same applies to my frequent travels to Asia, Europe, South America and Australia. I'll make sure to eat a lot of natural food such as vegetables, but also seafood, poultry and less often, red meat. Part of experiencing the culture is enjoying the dishes indigenous to these regions.

It is the raw vegans who I am simultaneously in awe of and occasionally annoyed by. I see their point and admit to feeling especially energized when I eat good organic raw food. But I refuse to limit my diet to it and am turned off by some who seem to be on a religious like crusade to convert others to their way of life.

There is however, one special restaurant I recently tried in New York, called Pure Food & Wine which alters my perspective slightly on raw cuisine and its practitioners. While it may not have convert me to a 'raw vegan' lifestyle, it inspires me to want to eat more healthy, more often.Sarma, the charismatic young co-founder/owner/mascot of Pure Food & Wine, has a blog post that makes a lot of sense. She's also a fan of classic Metallica. It is refreshing to hear from a raw food specialist who is not 'cult-like' about her beliefs and more or less 'flexitarian' in nature.

And the more I think about it, the more I realize that "flexitarianism" describes how I feel about a lot of movements, musical, religious,philosophical as well as dietary. It represents getting what you can out of a practice without being controlled by its limitations and unrealistic expectations.

For example, I'm a metal guitarist who is seriously into jazz but can't stand the stubbornness and prejudices that exist among certain fans of both genres. If I play metal, does that mean I should cover myself in tattoos, be culturally illiterate, drink beer all day and date strippers? If I play jazz, does that mean I have to avoid all other genres of music and say 'dig' every other word?

Similarly, I like to take a yoga class now and then. But I don't want to practice it every day, wear yoga-like clothes and hang out with yoga disciples who live in communes and ashrams.

When it comes to faith, I feel there is much to be learned from the old fables of
Judaism, the Christian principles of forgiveness and love, the honor emphasized by Catholicism and the wisdom of Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam and other Eastern religions.

But why does it all have to be so exclusive? Why should one religion forbid me from checking out the teachings of another? Don't tell me I'm going to hell just because I don't follow your specific beliefs to a 'T.'

Group based movements of all types try to enforce labels on people, place psychological pressure and incorporate decisions that should be up to the individual. It is the strict rules, restrictions and disqualifications that put me off from these movements, as well as those who follow the rules like blind sheep.

To me, what works best is exploring any activity, seeing what works
best for you, doing so in moderation, never abusing it and never
trying to push it on others. I'm starting to think my entire belief
system could be described as 'flexitarian.'

Volcano Blues

2010-04-21T19:43:00.014-04:00

Question: What happens when you combine the Icelandic volcano with a European jazz tour and a heavy metal festival in the Philippines?

Answer: A guitarist who has circumnavigated the globe.

In a matter of days, I have flown from New York to Europe, Europe to Asia, Asia to New York. Around the planet Earth, all because of a volcano. Welcome to my world.

I write this, I am resting comfortably at home in Brooklyn, NY while the two guys in my band, Alex Skolnick Trio, remain stuck in Europe. We were all supposed to fly back together, but the aftermath of the eruption, specifically the grounding of flights in Europe, changed all that.

It was just over two weeks ago we all flew from New York to Amsterdam to support the hugely popular acoustic guitar duo Rodrigo Y Gabriela. Since the trio had yet to have made it to Europe, supporting Rod And Gab presented the perfect opportunity for us to debut overseas, before continuing with them in the US. But I never could have predicted how this run of the tour would end.

After the final French show, in Toulouse, I flew to the Philippines for a metal festival with my longtime band Testament and the popular metal group Lamb Of God. This show had been booked for a long time and marked the first time the group had ever been in the Philippines. I couldn’t let the bands or the Filipino fans down. I had to be there. Besides, it coincided with some festival dates that Rod and Gab were playing on their own, so the trio had the time off anyway.

It should have been a perfect scenario. The trio stays with friends of ours in Paris for a few days, then meets me in Luxembourg. I fly to Manila from Toulouse, play the gig, then fly back to Europe and play the last two shows with the trio and RodYGab in Luxembourg and Brussels, Belgium.

Ok, it was a little crazy, but I’ve done stuff like this before. And it would have worked out perfectly. Who could have predicted that a volcano would erupt in Iceland, creating a massive ash cloud that would engulf the continent and cause a complete shutdown of every major airport in Western Europe?

I flew to Manila with no issues, had a bleary eyed dinner and wine with my buddies in Lamb Of God and a great nights sleep. The next day, I met up with my band who had landed in the middle of the night. We played a successful show for 30,000 Filipino fans. The following morning, rides to the airport were organized.

When I checked on my flight, I realized that it and every other flight to Europe had been canceled. My heart sank as realized I would miss the last two shows of the trio/RyG tour. including a sold out concert at for 5,000 people in Brussels, Belgium.

There was nothing I could do except try and get home or risk getting stuck in Manila. I called my airline, Etihad Airways, but the best they could do was reissue the ticket at another date. That was no help at all. When else will I need a ticket from Manilla to Luxembourg?

I asked about transferring the flight towards purchase of a flight to the United States. I was told that would be an ‘additional’ $5,500. No thanks. Meanwhile flights to the US were being snatched up left and right by people in my situation: scheduled to fly from Asia to Europe but forced to fly home instead.

Fortunately I was helped by a couple sources. First, American Express came to the rescue. While I’ve sometimes questioned the high annual fee I pay for the my Platinum card, their premium travel service came in very handy that day. They found me flight for under a thousand dollars. This service, which I pay the high fee for, actually saved me a lot of money and trouble. (Forgive me if I sound like a commercial for AmEx). Also, the Filippino promoter, Vernon from Pulp Productions, was also extremely helpful and extended my hotel stay for an extra night. And his assistant Karen and her friend Ivan took me out for an impromptu evening of food and drink in Manilla. The next day I caught my flight and after nearly twenty hours of travel, made it home.

I am still sad about missing those last two shows, and worried about my guys. But I take some consolation that we had some great European gigs, the Netherlands, Zurich, Switzerland and three cities in France, Paris, Marseille and Tousouse. The highlight was the two sold out shows at the legendary theatre, L’Olympia, considered the “Radio City Music Hall” of Paris.

Next week we are scheduled to play the real Radio City here in New York City. That is, if my band can make it over here by then.

As I write this, the band is scheduled to fly home tomorrow from Amsterdam, but everything is up in the air, pun not intended. Flight restrictions continue to be lifted, then put back into effect. Their connection is through London Heathrow, the airport which has suffered the most from the aftermath and continued eruption of the Icelandic Volcano. Many fingers are crossed that they make it.

This is one of those situations that will only make our band stronger. When this is all over, we will have one heck of a story.

Quick Update From The Road

2010-04-15T17:54:00.007-04:00

Hey folks- thanks for all the positive comments here and over on the GP page. I figured that ought to hold everyone for now.

As we tour with Rodrigo Y Gabriela across Europe, we are playing for the biggest crowds we've ever seen as the AS Trio. The pic at right, taken from the stage after our set, represents a typical night. As you can see, the crowds are really getting it.

In other words, things are great but it's very tough to blog right now! So please hang in there while this very important business is taken care of. The regular blogs will start up again once we get back to the US and things settle down.

Cheers!

Guitar Player II

2010-04-07T17:09:00.005-04:00

Here's my second blog for Guitar Player Magazine. It's about guitar players who are their own worst enemy, (kind of like the guy at the right), entitled
"How To Lose Your Envy And Become Your Own Best Guitar Player"

Click and enjoy : )

Alex

PS Feel free to comment here and/or on the GP Blog.

Further Thoughts On Great Songs With Bad Lyrics

2010-04-02T13:56:00.012-04:00

Some of my favorite hard rock songs have terrible lyrics, it’s true. Especially the songs in last weeks post.

When I listen to these songs, it is not for the words, but for the sound. The lyrics just blend into the background as the timbre, annunciation and rhythmic inflection of the voice simply become part of the overall picture. It almost becomes instrumental music.

One can listen to different music for different reasons. For example, lets look at some music from a completely different genre than hard rock: the music of James Brown. As a regular listener of the JB box set "Star Time," and several other albums, I consider his work to be some of the best popular music of the 20th Century. Millions of other listeners, fans and critics alike, seem to agree.

Yet it would be easy to point a finger at James Brown's music and critique it for lack of melodies. Unlike other soul singers of the day such as Stevie Wonder and Marvin Gaye, his music doesn't lend itself to good covers and instrumental arrangements. There is little content for melodic vocal study or for an improviser to quote, embellish and explore as a thematic interpretation.

Does that make it bad? Of course not. James' music has something else, something so strong it makes up for it: rhythm. The rhythm is so great in fact, that too much melodic movement would get in the way. It is, at its core, music for the purpose of bobbing heads, tapping feet, full on dancing or otherwise feeding off the groove of the rhythm.

Just as the strength of James Brown's music does not lie in its melodic content, the strength of these great hard rock songs does not lie in their lyrical content. Both styles have their own unique qualities that are separate from other genres of pop music. James makes you want to dance while AC/DC, Scorpions and Kiss make you want to play air guitar. James inspires headbobbing, these bands inspire headbanging.

If you were to ask most listeners and fans what they like best about hard rock, a short list of these qualities might include the following: memorable guitar riffs, sing-along choruses, driving movement of the bass and drums, high energy and a sense of power. Lyrical content wouldn't even make the list. Like the great music of James Brown, hard rock is subject to certain limitations, and that doesn't make it bad. It can even be argued that the limitations even become part of their strength. Hard rock is not music to be listened to for depth of words, but for power of sound.

As a young boy, it was this power which drew me in and got me into music in the first place. Despite my later appreciation of depth, lyrical and otherwise, this powerful sound of hard rock will always hold a special place in my heart. Like many others out there, I started as a youthful hard rock fan and then in the blink of an eye, unwittingly found myself transformed into an adult with good taste and high artistic standards.

Today, I can't help but look at these lyrics without pangs of embarrassment and snickers. But my outer sophisticated adult co-exists with a kid inside. This kid still hears these songs at nightclubs and parties, sometimes unable to resist the urge to pump a fist in the air, play air guitar, sing at the top of his lungs and, to quote one of the biggest offenders of bad lyrics: shout it out loud.

The "Best Songs With The Worst Lyrics" Awards

2010-03-26T16:08:00.024-04:00

In the spirit of the recent 2010 Olympics, I'm awarding figurative Bronze, Silver and Gold medals for the best songs with the worst lyrics. These are three undeniably great hard rock songs by three of the greatest bands in hard rock history with lyrics that can be described as dubious at best.

Try reading them out loud as poetry. All are basically about the same thing (you know what). This is meant to be taken with a sense of humor and an understanding that I'm not putting down the music. In the next post I'll have some reflections on hard rock songs and why they're great even though some of them have embarrassingly bad lyrics.

Feel free to add your own selections to the comments section. Keep in mind, the song has to be good. For example, I didn't include my choice of song with the worst lyrics because I and many other fans of the band consider it a bad song:

"Baby, let's put the X in sex. Love's like a muscle and you make me wanna flex."

Way to go, Paul and Gene. You really made us Kiss fans proud with that one.

BRONZE:

BAND: Scorpions
SONG: "Rock You Like A Hurricane"

Lyric: "The bitch is hungry, she needs to tell, so give her inches, and feed her well...He's licking his lips, he's ready to win. On the hunt tonight for love at first sting"

SILVER:

BAND: AC/DC
SONG: "Let Me Put My Love Into You"

Lyric: "Let me put my love into you babe. Let me put my love on the line.
Let me put my love into you babe. Let me cut your cake with my knife."

GOLD:

BAND: Kiss
SONG: "Love Gun"

Lyric: "I really love you baby. I love what you've got. Let's get together we can get hot....No place for hiding baby, no place to run. You pull the trigger of my...love gun!"

AS Trio To Tour Europe With RyG.

2010-03-22T16:58:00.005-04:00

3/19/10

       Hey everyone- just a quick announcement from the tour with AS Trio and Rodrigo Y Gabriela. Right now we're in Miami where everyone's been enjoying much needed time off. Tonight we play the historic Fillmore at the Jackie Gleason Theater.

      It's been quite an experience doing our modern acoustic jazz w/rock energy (or whatever you want to call it) for crowds in the thousands who are reacting tremendously, then sharing the stage with RyG for a few tunes. We're grateful to Rod, Gab, and their crew for making us feel so welcome on this tour. Things have been going so well in fact, that we've been invited to continue to tour throughout Europe with Rod Y Gab. We'll be playing huge venues such as the Olympia Theater in Paris (already sold out), as well as shows in the US through May. These dates will be added to our website, FB pages etc...as they become available.

     Apologies to those who were disappointed I couldn't make Testament's current tour, which was booked after I was already committed to the tour I'm on right now. I appreciate the understanding and look forward to making it up to Testament fans on the American Carnage Tour this Summer. None of these new dates will affect any upcoming commitments with Testament.

       Thanks to everyone we've been seeing on the road thus far, and we look forward to bringing the AS Trio to Europe for its first ever proper tour. See you soon!!

                         Alex

Guitar Player

2010-03-15T10:15:00.007-04:00

My First Post As Blogger For Guitar Player Magazine

Nashville

2010-03-12T17:19:00.009-05:00

I've decided to revamp this story and make it just about Nashville. There are photos and video added. The Guitar Player story is it's own post now.

Hi everyone- sorry to disappear! The AS Trio is on tour with my good friends, instrumental superstars Rodrigo Y Gabriela. It's been an amazing experience performing to thousands each night with AST then sitting in with RyG during their set. Yesterday we played the historic Ryman Auditorium in Nashville.

Earlier in the day, Rodrigo and I went on a guitar outing. First we hit the Gibson custom shop. The folks working there were very gracious, some of them confessed to being fans and none of them seemed to mind that I endorse Heritage, a company their bosses have had their differences with. He bought a Les Paul (his first) from the retail shop.

Later, we hit Gruen Guitars, Nashville's famous guitar store (anyone remember them from that old Visa ad?). I've always wanted a great tele and I found a vintage blonde beauty. Did I need to spend $2500 on a guitar? No! But encouraged by my inner voice (and Rod, who'd just spent more than that on his Gibson), I went for it. What better place to get one? And how often do you get the chance to debut it on the same stage where the ghosts of Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, Patsy Cline and countess other legends can still be felt, their pictures surrounding the backstage? The crowd loved it when I told the story and used it for the slide guitar romp of our trio tune 'Western Sabbath Stomp.' It was a great day in Nashville. (Photo's: Rod at Gibson and me showing Gab the tele backstage)

When I posted this the first time, I'd forgotten to mention that the night before, we'd stumbled into a bar and heard an incredible group, the Don Kelly Band (pictured above). Their guitarist, JD Silo, is a quintessential Nashville tele player. Quite honestly, I can't remember the last time I've heard someone who so represents everything that is great about the guitar. Seeing him certainly helped enhance and inspire the whole Nashville
Telecaster experience. If you're ever down in Nashville, drop by Robert's on Broadway, where he can be heard several nights a week. Here's a clip I found on YouTube.

The only downside to this tour is that it's been really hard to write. However, I have managed to finish a piece which appears courtesy of Guitar Player Magazine, where I've brought aboard as a guest blogger. You'll be seeing more of my guitar-centric pieces over there, but we'll always have announcements links here on Skolnotes.

http://www.guitarplayer.com/BlogComments.aspx?id=110167&blogid=967

New York Times

2010-02-25T18:58:00.010-05:00

I'm thrilled to announce a story in today's New York Times, an article entitled A Scorpion From Iraq Trying to Sting in America. Its a review of a gig earlier this week, the first official show by Acrassicauda, Iraq's heavy metal band, now living as refugees in the US and whose upcoming EP I produced. It'll be released March 9th.

Times music writer Ben Ratliff, who is equally comfortable reviewing jazz and metal (my kind of guy), did a wonderful job reviewing the show and telling the story of my involvement with the band.

A couple small additions: it was actually a very socially aware friend, Nettie Hartsock, who first told me about the film "Heavy Metal In Baghdad." My parents had mentioned hearing of the film on NPR when I'd mentioned it to them. My point in relaying this story was that people like my parents, up on current events and politics, NPR listeners etc...had heard of the band, but not many metal fans or media organizations. I was determined to help change that. Also, I still play with the band Testament, as well as being 'once' of the band. Finally, there is a significance to the end of the story. When I said "Welcome to America," it was not only fitting for the moment, but that's also what James Hetfield wrote on the back of the ESP Guitar he handed to the band, which made it funnier to us. I might have forgotten to explain that to Ben backstage at the gig.

I want to thank Mr. Ratliff for this article. It's been an amazing experience working with this band and I'm honored to be sharing a story with them in the New York Times.

Random Thoughts During Turbulence

2010-02-24T10:13:00.005-05:00

I'm trying to write in my journal. But right now the plane I'm on is going through violent bumps and an unexpected descent. It's scary. And gets me thinking.

Surviving modern life is very much a game of chance. How do I know this plane isn't going down?

Of course the reassuring voice in my head pats me on the back and let's me know it's just turbulence. Bit there's another part of me that says "You know...planes DO crash."

No it doesn't happen very often. In the grand scheme of things it's almost nonexistent. I've been flying all my life and have know thousands of people who fly, and have flown all there lives. It hasn't happened to anyone I know.

But it CAN happen. We've all seen it on the news:

A plane crash is like a tiny straw that gets drawn from a sea of straws. Or a gunshot in a Russian Roulette game where the weapon has a million empty chambers and one live bullet.

How does one know that the flight he or she is on is not that one in a million short straw or Russian roulette bullet?

You don't. Another reason to make the most of every day.

The plane settles down and the flight feels relaxed again. Seat-belt sign goes off. A flight attendant wheeling a cart say "Can I offer you something to drink?" I order sparkling water and lime. Let's see, what was I writing about earlier...

NAMM V (Girl Drama)

2010-02-19T19:02:00.032-05:00

After a long, loud day on the NAMM showroom floor, my small group of friends and I were hungry. We kept running into others we knew and our group grew larger. Next thing you know, we were seated at a rectangular table stretching halfway across Morton’s Steak House. Shrimp cocktails, raw oysters, fresh crab and steaks seemed to magically appear. Cocktails and wine were flowing like a stream.

The restaurant was filled with faces, overhead music and chatter. It was like an upscale, toned down, elegant version of the convention scene earlier that day. A couple tables over, I noticed one of my jazz guitar heroes, George Benson, dining with a group of reps. At our table, we had over a dozen guys and girls, mainly hard rock and metal musicians. Some of us knew each other, while many were introduced for the first time. One guy, who everyone kept calling ‘Whit,' turned out to be Whitfield Crane, singer of the band “Ugly Kid Joe." It was his fortieth birthday and as his friends kept buying him drinks, by the end of the dinner, he tipped his chair too far back and fell over. The night was just beginning.

Since I’d been put up at the Marriott, right on the grounds of the convention, I invited everyone up to my room, along with other friends who were texting asking what I was up to. It quickly turned into a full on party (amazing how that happens). As the iPod speakers blasted, much more alcohol was consumed and the door was knocked on again and again. As more and more musicians and friends showed up, the room began to resemble a night club.

I noticed that two of those present were these attractive young women I knew who didn’t know each other. Each was somewhat glamorous and sophisticated and both were very petite. One of them was barely five feet tall, the other one only about four foot '7. But what they lacked in height, they more than made up for in attitude.

The first presented the aura of a cover girl from Cosmopolitan or some other women's magazine. She acted as if everyone else should know and respect her. The other was like a character from the girlie TV drama "Sex And The City." She spoke as if scripted from that show and I wouldn't be surprised if she lifted quotes from it.

Meanwhile, the drinks continued to pour. And as each girl talked to me, she would draw hostile glares from the other. Awkwardness had decided to crash the party.

The truth was, both of these were girls with whom I’d had brief but passionate romantic affairs with earlier in the year. One of them would still occasionally 'drunk dial' me and profess her love. The other continued to hint that I was a fool for letting her go, but if I played my cards right, the door might still be open.

There had been reasons I'd been interested. Each could be described upon first glance as 'sexy.' And in addition to their pretty faces and nice bodies, both were charming, talented artistically and very good at their jobs. One worked in finance and photography, while the other was in the music industry. But there were reasons I'd lost interest.

The first girl had wit and intelligence but with painful acerbity. She would insult everyone around, act like it was funny and just didn't know when to quit. It become a chore keeping up with her routine. Whenever I tried to gently let her know this, she'd pull a superiority complex and a guilt trip at the same time. "You're like the rest" she'd say with a laugh. "You just can't handle me."

The other one seemed to think I might be her future husband, despite not knowing me on a deep level. She was also someone I could never trust. I'd listen as she'd call and lie to her long distance boyfriend as we were spending the evening together. She was also attempting this new 'rocker chick' persona which was nothing like the girl I'd met, who'd seemed nice and normal. She was trying too hard to have rock hair and clothes and was slowly turning into one of those NAMM freaks.

Both suffered from a sense of self importance on the outside that probably stemmed from a deep insecurity within. They had personalities that seemed forced and put on. In each case, I'd hoped to cut through this insecurity with trust and open communication, coaxing each girl to level with me and creating a safe place where she could be honest about who she really was. But in the end, both were trapped in these characters they'd created for themselves, like little female Frankensteins. Frakenstina's.

Now they'd both shown up my impromptu hotel room party. I hadn't want to ignore them, so I'd answered each of their texts and gave them my hotel room number, certain each would be hurt if I ignored them. Suddenly I realized I had lead them on, which was worse. It was my fault for not anticipating this. And they each seemed convinced that the only thing keeping them from having a night and possible relationship with me was the other girl.

I tried to walk around and go talk to others for a while, hoping that each would leave on her own accord. But whenever I came back to the other side of the room, there they were with competing glares, subtle remarks and smirks.

Meanwhile there was a third attractive girl, even more picturesque but not compelled to prove her own self importance. She’d been drinking too, but instead of becoming overly talkative like everyone else (myself included), she just rested quietly, observing the whole drama with the first two girls. She had relaxed energy, wasn’t competitive or bitchy towards any other women and lacked that strange exaggerated persona of the other two. The next day, we'd laugh about the night's 'girl drama.' And about a year or so later, her and I would end up dating.

Now before I go any further here, let me say one thing: I’ve avoided writing about this type of personal stuff so far and have no desire to be like radio star Howard Stern, a favorite entertainer of mine who is comfortable revealing how he trims his pubic hair. But in the last few years, I’ve had some really interesting relationships with women. And as someone who used to be terribly insecure and even afraid around them, I feel like to not share any of these stories would be to sell you short as my reader and sell me short as a writer.

So anyway, the first girl, Carrie*, who looks a model but has a personality like right wing conservative nut Anne Coulter, becomes semi annoyed, not just with the other girls, but with me for not paying enough attention to her. She starts to aggressively make jokes about me, like a bad comedy roast. Most in the room are oblivious, caught in their own loud conversations, but the few who hear are all giving looks of discomfort as she lampoons my taste in music, accuses me of knowing ‘nothing’ about wine and rips into my choice of clothes.

Then the other girl, Becky*, becomes threatened enough by the first girl and equally pissed off at me. She starts coming on to some guy in front of me, laughing at his jokes exaggeratingly and obviously out of desperation. Soon after, she’s sitting in his lap, glancing at me for a reaction.

Neither girl's behavior does anything to reignite my interest. In fact, it has the opposite effect. It's late at night after being at NAMM all day and drinking all night. I have nothing to say to either one. I can barely process a thought, only feelings of discomfort.

As Carrie hammers away with the insult humor, I absorb her verbal assault like light punches. Then Becky, still in this guys lap, starts massaging his shoulders. I flash back to a few months ago, when she was naked in my bed and am grossed out by this display. I have no interested in competing with this guy, but I’m not into watching her with him either.

Finally it all gets to be too much, the crowd, the noise, the drinking, the girl drama. A switch goes off in my head and I decide to kick everyone out of my hotel room.

“I’m sorry…” I declare in a loud slur. “But everyone has to leave now (hiccup!). It’s been great. Uh… goodnight (hic)! ” I’m like a cartoon of someone drunk, except it’s no exaggeration.

In less then five minutes, I’ve shaken hands and/or high-fived all the guys on their way out and hugged the girls, except for Becky, who ignores me and follows that guy.

The only one left is Carrie and her obnoxious mouth which deserves to get taped shut. She looks at me with kitten eyes as I point to the door. "Did I offend you?" Silence. "I did didn't I?"

“I think you should go.”

“So who was that girl? What was going on with her?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

"Are you really mad?"

"You offended everybody. You don’t know when to stop. Please leave?”

“ Who does she think she is, looking at me like that and then talking over me everytime I tried to talk to you?”

“You were worse. You think you're funny but you don’t recognize that others don’t get it.”

“That’s their problem if they don’t get it. I don’t care what they think. Are you sure you don't want me to stay?”

“I do care what they think. They’re my friends. And if you can't respect that then I can't respect you. And no, I don't want you to stay”

She looks down. “I’m sorry. Can we just sit and talk for a few?”

“No, you're leaving. Goodnight.”

“You’re kicking me out?" she says with a flirty look. "Do you know how many guys hit on me today and wish I was in their room?“

I suppose she's right. At one time I would have dreamed of someone so hot staying with me. But now I have other options. And I'm thinking about her behavior moments before.

“Well here's what I wish." I'm raising my voice now. " That you would get the fuck out of my room! Now!” I push her out the door.

It's almost 3am. In about six hours, I'll be waking up and warming up my fingers. I have an early solo acoustic performance at the Yamaha booth tomorrow.

It's been an interesting first day of NAMM.

*(Not her real name)

NAMM IV ('Namm At Night')

2010-02-12T22:25:00.025-05:00

No treatise on NAMM would be complete without a description of the scene at night, when one truly realizes the density of this Mecca like musical pilgrimage. It’s a cross pollination of human clusters gathering in hotel bars, sidewalks, stores and local eateries. Like a warm weather, West Coast version of Times Square on New Years Eve, getting a drink, a bite to eat, a cup of coffee or a taxi becomes an ordeal that involves long lines and pushing through throngs of people. The hotel bars are so packed that your drink feels like a priceless commodity and in no time at all, you’ve sipped it away and it’s time to wait in line all over again.

While waiting in line at the bar, I’ve found myself talking to members of Heart, Journey, Night Ranger and countless other bands I’ve heard on classic rock radio for as long as I can remember. Standing side by side are members of Shadows Fall, Stone Sour, Death Angel and other heavy bands. Next to them are prog rock legends from 70’s bands like Brand X, Gentle Giant or Gong, along with musicians that are professional teachers or clinicians and others who are new and hoping for a break. Just as the Olympic Games causes athletes of different nations to gather in one common location, so it is with the NAMM show and musicians of different genres and eras.

The Hilton hotel bar, located directly alongside the convention center, is the epicenter of activity, along with the Marriott hotel bar directly across the street. Bleeding into the bars of both hotels is the sound of musicians playing in the lobbies on makeshift stages, adorned with logos from instrument sponsors like billboards on the LA freeway. Some of these lobby bands are good, some not so good, but even the good ones can sound bad when your ears have been subject to an all day barrage of white noise on the convention floor. This causes one to occasionally wonder why these bands are even there, playing for an audience that is engaged in conversations, not listening, forced to yell to be heard over the music.

Meanwhile, there are special concert events in the hotel ballrooms, and other venues all over town featuring well-known bands and/or celebrity jam sessions. Entry requires a special flyer or laminate that is given out at the sponsors’ booths during the day. These passes tend to quickly run out, causing the jams to become ‘hot ticket’ events which are usually loud, crowded and overwhelming. I prefer to avoid them unless I’m one of the artists performing.

Last year at the Hilton, there was the “Wimbash,” hosted by Living Colour Bassist Doug Wimbish. It was sponsored by Peavey, Rockhouse, Guitar Player Magazine, Bass Player Magazine and others and featured Doug's funky group and several other instrumental rock artists. My jazz group, the Alex Skolnick Trio was also on the bill and being an improvisational group mostly focused on modern acoustic jazz guitar, we weren't sure how it would go. But as it turned out, the concert was packed wall to wall and the audience seemed to really be paying attention. They were able to connect with the music, despite being blasted by alcohol and an all day by a sonic assault. (video)

For me, this is one of the biggest challenges of performing at NAMM, whether on the convention floor or in the hotel ballrooms: creating sound that reaches out to people, wakes them up, taps them on the shoulder and gently reminds them that true music is an expression of life experiences and emotions. Being at NAMM, where the focus is so directed on gear, technique, appearance and endorsements, it’s easy to forget this.

These nighttime hotel bar gatherings, concerts, private parties, and jam sessions, are as much a part of the NAMM experience as networking and checking out the latest gear during the day. Attendees can let loose and many end up drunk and somewhat disorderly (note: the author admits to taking part in much drunk and disorderly behavior during NAMM). For the most part, there seems to be an unwritten rule of sobriety during the day and anything goes at night. But of course,there are some who don’t abide by this rule and still somehow manage to function.

For example, at last year’s NAMM, guitarist Alexi Laiho (of Children Of Bodom) and I were promoting our upcoming instruction videos through Rockhouse (my first, which is called “Jazz Guitar With Alex Skolnick" is due next month). We were taking pictures for the cover of "UpBeat" which is like the NAMM news, placed outside everyone's hotel doors. It was only noon and Alexi was on his third or fourth drink, alternating between JagerMeister and beer. But he still managed to keep it together and go to all his signings on time, buzzed, but totally coherent. There are others like him, guys that are able to party during the day just enough to keep things together, then descending into drunken oblivion at night. "Professional drinkers" if you will.

On the flipside was the 2003 NAMM, where I witnessed the legendary Eddie Van Halen, one of my favorite guitarists of all time and biggest early influences, show up hours late and falling down drunk. It was the middle of the afternoon. It was painful to see someone I admire so much setting such a bad example and upsetting a lot of people.

I figure if you like to drink, and I certainly do, then fine. Just don't do it in a way that causes damage to your goals and reputation. Problem drinking defeats the purpose and does not look fun. If it causes you to be late, not on your game and disappointing to those who are sponsoring you and waiting to hear you, it’s not worth it. Like other areas of life, it’s up to each individual to decide which course of action works for him or her when it comes to alcohol, a place many of us arrive at through trial and error. For example, I know how to pace myself, which involves no drinking while it's still daylight and knowing which alcohol not to mix. Wine and scotch? No problem. Beer and vodka? No problem. Vodka and Scotch? Big problem!

Of course, if you have an addictive personality, you should avoid alcohol altogether. But if not, there is nothing wrong with a little fun as long as it doesn’t get in the way of your goals and take care of your business during the day. Life gets a little more interesting when you let loose and allow crazy things happen at night, and nowhere has this been more true for me than at NAMM. So, on that note, I’m going to close this series by describing one such crazy night that happened to me a few years ago at NAMM... (To be continued in part V, final installment)

NAMM Part III

2010-02-07T16:58:00.021-05:00

We've just said goodbye to the folks at the Seymour Duncan booth. With that signing done and the Heritage jam this morning, I have one more official appearance to make today. As my manager and I navigate towards the Peavey/Budda booth through the thick crowd and overwhelming noise, I think to myself:

Describing NAMM as ‘sensory overload,’ is like describing the Sears Tower as ‘tall.’

If you’ve ever been to a Guitar Center or Sam Ash music store on a Saturday morning, imagine that white noise rumble multiplied indefinitely. Every type of instrument being tuned simultaneously over thousands of people talking, electric guitars squealing, drums pounding, cymbals crashing, acoustic guitars strumming, bases thumping, violins screeching, people singing, keyboards clashing, saxes and trumpets screaming, trombones farting.

At one booth, I notice a high school age kid bashing sound out of a guitar and it sounds painful. I can't wait to get away. At the next is a duet with two master electric bassists, Victor Wooten (of Bela Flek & The Flektones) and Matt Garrison (of John McLaughlin, Joe Zawinul and Herbie Hancock). It sounds amazing. I stop and watch for a second but we have no time, I have to be signing for Peavey/Budda amps in ten minutes. If I stop and watch every cool jam and try out every piece of gear I like, I'll never make it.

Meanwhile I'm getting stopped several times a minute to sign autographs and pose for photos. This will happen all day today and tomorrow. Soon, my fingers will hurt from writing, my eyes will get sore from flash photography, my face will hurt from smiling, my hand from shaking, my ears from the noise, my throat from the dry air and my voice from talking above the din.

I’m not complaining. It’s part of a job I'm very lucky to have. I enjoy meeting all these people who are eager to meet me.

While I'm no 'household name' like Bono or Stevie Wonder, both of whom have attended NAMM shows from time to time (I once saw Stevie walking around, it was exciting), in this environment, where guitar enthusiasts are a sizeable portion of the crowd, I get a glimpse into what that kind of fame must be like. You want to pay attention to everyone and be nice to all. But it’s hard when you’re constantly distracted, running late to your next signing/performance, and getting texted by your buddies.

As someone who grew up feeling ‘invisible,’ I wonder if there is some deep-rooted psychological ‘corrective experience’ at play here (what would Mr. Freud say?). And I like being 'this guy' much better then the first few times I came to here.

At the first few NAMM shows I attended, I was awkward, shy, overwhelmed and feeling like a 'nobody." A young kid completely out of his element, I didn’t know what to say to anyone. I remember going up to booths and just getting a strange attitude from the people there. They didn’t want to talk to me. I was just another kid playing music they didn't get, 'thrash,' which they equated to 'trash.' And I didn’t have the social skills to talk to anyone effectively, gear reps, guitar mags or anyone else. Indeed there were so many times that I’d felt I’d said something wrong, was caught off guard, was distracted, unable to stay focused. I'd leave the convention feeling terrible.

While these early experiences were difficult, a couple very positive things happened as a result. For one thing, I eventually learned to handle it. Like a lot of things in life, you get better with practice and perseverance. By focusing on all the positive elements, I'm really able to enjoy it now. In fact, I feel that in these last few years especially, very positive developments have come out of it on friendship and business levels.

I don't blame myself for having a hard time with it, early on. I recognize that it is a cesspool, an intense social experiment.

Another positive effect of NAMM was that it helped solidify my musical direction. I can remember hearing musicians like Chick Corea, Mike Stern, John Pattituci, Joey Defrancesco up close. Master musicians who were there for the music, not the imagery. It strengthened my resolve to be someone that was about the music. I felt like these artists were like sacred trees unspoiled by the surrounding pollution of those vying to prove they can play the fastest or dress the loudest.

Today, I'm able to enjoy NAMM largely because I feel I've been able to follow that path. Along the way, I feel I've become 'image conscious' without becoming a caricature of a metal or jazz musician or any other type. I'm so grateful to have come to a place where I can be here and have fun, feel good about who I am, play some good music, hang with some great friends and not feel sorry for myself.

(To be continued)

NAMM Part II

2010-02-03T13:04:00.014-05:00

Earlier that day:

Fri. Jan. 15, 2010 11:15am

It's starting.

Walking into convention center I hear a loud voice from above, it’s a giant image of a uniformed female, dressed like a cross between a flight attendant and news anchor. She's on a flat screen TV welcoming all of us to NAMM. Her message repeats. "Welcome to the 2010 Winter NAMM Show." It's so futuristic, reminds me Woody Allen’s ‘Sleeper’ where he's frozen in 1973, then wakes up two hundred years in the future.

People staring at me. I try not to stare back. Surreal experience. Constant distractions. Noise, noise, noise. Maneuvering through the sea of people. People I think I recognize and those who recognize me. A few try to get my attention. I hate to act like a rockstar, ignoring people, but the fact is I only have fifteen minutes before I have to demo my signature guitar at the Heritage booth. I still have to pick up my badge, locate the booth, it's five thousand four hundred and something I, I forget, and I'll be lucky if I get there on time.

Where do you get the badges? Downstairs, that's right, I remember. Whoa, just passed by John B Williams, from the Arsenio Hall Show on TV, the house bass player. Was on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson too. That's really weird seeing him because I just heard his name mentioned this morning from Uriah.

Uriah had seen me in line at the airport gate at 7am, then saved a next to me on the plane (Southwest Airlines has open seating). Despite it being a painfully early hour for musicians, we totally hit it off, both involved in 'non-metal' projects professionally but can step into metal easily, like wearing a suit. He showed me a video of him in a blazer, hair tied back, backing an R&B singer on bass, followed by a picture of him, hair out, leather pants, playing with Whitesnake- they'd found him on the internet and despite him being more of a funk/soul player, they liked his look and sound. He's been playing with them for the last couple years. We took the same airport shuttle in, agreed to meet later and are telling everyone we're ‘BFF’s.’ (God, that sounds gay, lol).

Can't believe I have to play guitar for people in a few minutes. This is one of those times when one of the best skills I've ever learned, mental practicing, comes into effect. Right now I'm doing some guitar patterns in my head, imagining my fingers on the neck, ignoring all the oncoming noise as I enter the convention floor. This type of visualizing is essential and isn't easy. But I am hearing the notes in my head as if I was improvising with a guitar in my hands. With a 7:30am flight here from the Bay Area this morning and having only minutes to check into my hotel upon arrival, there was no way I could warm up properly.

Someone walking in a group says. “Hi Alex!” She stops, as does the whole group. “Hi!” I answer back. I forget her name. God, I’m such an asshole. I have to keep walking, no time to explain or chat. As I do so, someone else waves calls my name. I yell “How are you, Steve!” and by the time he's answered, I'm gone. Fortunately I had seen his name on his tag.

It's starting.

Ok, here I am, this should be the...Where the fuck is Heritage? They moved. They were always in this same spot every year. God dammit. I knew I should have grabbed one of those guidebooks with all the booth numbers.

Shit. Now it's 11:30, I'm supposed to be there right now, playing. I phone my rep at Heritage and my manager, I'm sure they're wondering where I am. Neither of them pick up, it's hard to do so at NAMM I understand, it's too loud and you're always in conversation. I leave voicemail for both saying I'm close, just lost.

"Excuse me" I'm saying to some random guy looking at the guidebook. "Can I borrow that for a second?"

"Sure" he says, handing it to me.

"Thanks so much."

He sees my name tag. "Alex Fucking Skolnick. No way. Can you sign that for me buddy?" I do so, head off to Heritage. Fortunately, it's close.

A crowd has gathered waiting. I arrive, apologize for being late, say hello to a few people, reps, my manager, some friends. David Becker, a great jazz guitarist and fellow Heritage player is there and we decide to play together.

Within minutes the guitar is in my hands, and the sounds are dialed in. Time to clear my head of the madness and make some music.

It's starting.

Minutes later...

To be continued...

“Wham, Bam Thank You NAMM”

2010-01-30T21:10:00.028-05:00

"Trade shows" are a bit like cruise ships that take place on dry land. Groups of people move about like schools of fish, occupying a limited amount of space in a convention center that functions like an ocean liner. They also take over all the nearby hotels and dining facilities within reach. Wearing name-tags and smiles, they spend each day shaking hands, handing out business cards, attending panels, and visiting booths displaying new products and brochures.

It seems every industry, from computer software to construction materials, from shoes to psychology, holds one of these events. And while most resemble large gatherings of average, everyday folks, there are a few which could be described as full on freak-shows, theaters of the absurd and proof of life on other planets. Falling into this latter category would be the convention for comic books (ComicCon), the Adult Entertainment Expo(AAE), and the one from which I’ve just returned, National Association Of Music Merchants (NAMM).

NAMM is a migration of odd birds flocking to sunny Southern California for the Winter. It takes place for four days each January at the Anaheim Convention Center, drawing characters from all walks of the music industry, all over the United States and the rest of the world. While its primary purpose is to connect gear manufacturers with buyers from music stores, schools and other institutions, it wouldn’t be the country’s largest music convention without some of the pomp and overall excess associated with the our industry.

The key players at NAMM are the ‘reps’ who tend to look like the epitome of 'normal,' probably not much different in appearance than attendees of any other convention. Ranging in age from twenties to sixties, some have suits and ties, while many are dressed ‘business casual,’(trousers, jeans, dress shirts etc...). They keep their operations running, conduct business transactions for their companies and set up and tear down their booths. Although their jobs represent the very purpose of this convention, these folks are overshadowed by the colorful flare of characters from the music scene, musicians and otherwise.

A-list rock stars, D-list rock stars and even more non-rock stars pretending they are rock stars troll the convention floor. Trailing alongside or behind are friends, hangers-on, staff, groupies and some who just want your attention. Wannabes abound, from goth superstar Marilyn Manson lookalikes to deadringers for the late Jimi Hendrix. Groups of twenty year old boys who look like Warrant or Poison in 1989 are there, along with rappers, hipsters along with those representing glam, punk, country, metal, ska, blues, new age and every possible look that's ever been connected music, a moving encyclopedia of music fashion music of the last 50 years.

Then there are the NAMM girls. Among the many normal looking ones are those wearing fishnets, tights, cocktail dresses, mini skirts. It is especially hard not to notice the girls in swim suits, hired by select companies to give their booths the feel of a ‘bikini car wash.’

As I'm doing a signing for Seymour Duncan pickups, I'm trying to give each fan my full attention- a look in the eye, handshake, smile and autograph. But I have to admit, it is hard not to be thrown off by the distractions.

In the distance, I hear a great, unknown jazz guitarist jamming at a nearby booth, demoing pedals. He sounds good. But he's being blasted out by this idiot across from me, some shred monkey who's sweating up a storm, playing too loud, not connecting with any listeners, acting like he's onstage at Donington even though people just pass by like he's not even there. "No one cares buddy!" I think to myself. Whoa, here comes legendary funk bassist Bootsy Collins, he looks like a cross between a seven foot tall NBA star and a green clad Liberace. And was that just Gene Simmons that walked by? No, just one of several make up clad Gene impersonators lurking about promoting products that the real Gene is endorsing. And that guy over there looks just like Slash. Get a life dude, find your own look and uh…wait a second,. That IS Slash. The bodyguards surrounding him are hustling him towards the Gibson booth where he’s doing a signing. Oh, here come's Mick from Slipknot, who I know from NAMM. He and a few others I run into regularly are like 'NAMM buddies.' He's wearing his mask, it reminds me of a scene in 'Pulp Fiction.' He's next up to sign. We high five each other and take pictures together for the Seymour Duncan reps. Now my manager is hauling me off to my next event.

As we rush through the crowd, ordinarily dressed sales reps seem to disappear amongst the colorful melee. They're like tiny goldfish floating alongside an array of eel, seahorses and other deep sea creatures... (To be continued)

Update

2010-01-27T12:24:00.001-05:00

People Of Earth (thanks Conan for that line): here is a quick update on what is going on with me.

I am thrilled to announce that the Alex Skolnick Trio will be supporting Rodrigo and Gabriella on their upcoming US run. It looks like I will be sitting in nightly with Rod and Gab, as well.

This means, unfortunately, that I won't be out with Testament on the Megadeth run of dates in March (dates that were added only recently, in light of the American Carnage tour being postponed). While I feel bad for anyone disappointed I won't be there, I respect the decision to book these dates and ask for the fans' understanding with this as the trio has had March on hold for a long time. Glen Drover, who is filling in for me, will do an awesome job and I encourage everyone to go see the show regardless.

Although no rescheduled Carnage dates have been booked yet, I'm awaiting word (as we all are), pulling for Slayer's Tom Araya to get well soon and looking forward to resuming that tour as planned.

Also, for those who have been asking: I will not be taking part in the TSO Beethoven's Last Night Tour at this time. I appreciate the support and encourage everyone to see it, as it promises to be an excellent show with or without yours truly.

   I understand it can get confusing keeping track of me and my multiple projects/genres (believe me, I have my own challenges with this, lol). But I'm happy to announce that we are redesigning alexskolnick.com in a way that's going to make things much easier to keep track of. The new design will happen soon.

  If you are able to come check out the RyG dates with me and Matt Nathan please come by and say hello after the show. See you soon, thanks for the support and a great 2010 to everyone. Cheers!

   Alex

The XBox Factor

2010-01-13T04:51:00.031-05:00

For years, on tour buses and backstage, I was tortured by home video games. The mechanical music would drill into my cranium as if I were the subject of an inhumane scientific experiment like the character in the Stanley Kubrick film “A Clockwork Orange” (also named Alex). Since then, I’ve bemoaned the notion of our youth wiling away the hours with a joystick instead of a musical instrument, book, saucepan, paintbrush, or other creative device. I've remained convinced that these games would serve as a demarcation line symbolizing the descent of modern society. In short, I’ve never been much of a ‘video game’ person.

So how is it that I, Alex N. Skolnick, goal oriented creative person with a focus on productivity and a strict work ethic, have just purchased my very own Xbox 360?

It started on my most recent tour, where all the buses were equipped with Xbox’s. I noticed that, thanks to technology, the games have gotten much more more sophisticated and less annoying than their predecessors from the early 90's. In some cases, they are even more visually detailed than the twenty-five cent arcade games of my youth which I enjoyed playing, such as Pac Man and Defender. On this tour, you had to learn how to work the Xbox, which was the resident DVD player, CD player and gaming consul for each bus. It also has the capability of providing instant access to your Netflix subscription. By the end of the tour, as a gift to myself, I decided I had to own one.

Several guys on our tour would pull their hair out in frustration over this thing, myself included. We were rescued by a guy from another bus who had had to learn how to use one at home out of, in his words, 'dire necessity." He's the father of three young boys.

The hand-held remote resembles a tiny spaceship or robot and has an array of track wheels, buttons and triggers, some of which light up. It is very easy to make a mistake. There were nights after a show when, relaxing with our late night beer and wine, an accidental push of a button would interrupt a crucial scene as we were watching a ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm’ DVD. This would prompt a chorus of aggravated moans and dirty looks cast towards the perpetrator, his face growing more red than the button on the far right of the controller as he tried in vain to fix the problem. But once you get over the hurdle of this controller, you feel like you’re on top of the world.

I still believe in books and music over video games. But I’m at the point where those activities, while very constructive and enlightening, are not always recreational. When listening to good music, for example, I’m inspired to compose. When reading a good novel, I’m inspired to type. This is a wonderful problem to have. But sometimes its good to just clear your mind and do something that is purely a fun waste of time. The Xbox is perfect for this. Besides, it looks really great in my apartment.

I have to hand it to Microsoft for this creation. I'm definitely an Apple person when it comes to computers and accessories, but Mr. Gates and company really scored with this one, on the level that Apple did with the iPod. Some friends tried to steer me towards the Play Station or Wii, but I resisted. There was simply no other option besides the Xbox, which I purchased at the new 24 hour "Best Buy" store in Manhattan, buzzing with people, TV's, electronic beeps and clicks, blaring music and lights at 10:30pm on a Tuesday night.

With me was someone whom I'll call Jackie. We share a similar taste in books and art. An NYU honors student with a high grade point average, she is quite the opposite of the degenerate home video game junkies of my past, stoner couch potatoes whose daily lives were reduced to a bag of pot, a twelve pack of Budweiser and spending all day in front of the screen playing 'Donkey Kong.' I'm sure that mentality exists in dorms and apartments everywhere, but there are many others like her: creative, literate, artistic young people who are able to shoot aliens or commit grand theft on screen in moderation, with a sense of humor and fun and without losing their higher ambitions or their appreciation of more sophisticated activities. These games are something they’ve grown up with, along with the internet, MP3 players and text messages and they fit into their lives without taking them over.

Jackie suggested I pick up a copy of ‘Halo 3." I've enjoyed playing it so far, even though I suck. Other friends are threatening to come over and 'whoop my ass' at it. I'm also planning to have people over to share in the part of my purchase that was most exciting: an entire kit for the game 'Rock Band II.'

Why would someone like me, that actually plays guitar for a living, want to own Rock Band or Guitar Hero? For one thing, it's to see what this experience is like. After all, hundreds of millions have purchased these games which simulate live music performance, making it a big factor in my industry. I need to see what it's all about.
Also, a song I wrote many years ago, on a tiny four track cassette recorder in my parents' garage, is now available on RockBand II. It's called "Souls Of Black."

But I'd say the real trigger was this: I saw a VHI special on the new Beatles Rock Band, game, designed with creative input from Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr, and the kin of George Harrison and John Lennon, which blew me away. There has never been a game like this one, which recreates key moments and places in Beatles history including Liverpool, Shea Stadium, the "Let It Be" rooftop concert and recording sessions with perfect detail, right down to the carpet and mixing console at Abbey Road Studios. A lifelong Beatles fan, I had to have this game and the little guitar controller that came with it.

When I told him my father my plans over the phone, the conversation went something like this:

“You’re buying a machine that comes with a toy guitar and lets you pretend you’re playing guitar on stage in front of an audience?”

“That’s right.”

He pondered this for a moment. “Do you really need this thing?”

Ode To The Road Crew

2010-01-01T18:58:00.013-05:00

Tattooed, trash talking techs
Gritty warriors with hearts of gold

Forsaking a life of normalcy
For the grind of the open road

Black clad angels with flashlights
Subsisting on pizza and beer

Whiskey, fries and cigarettes,
Broken sleep and broken gear

Fixing anything that can go wrong
For no task are they unable

Speakers blown and drunken fans to be bounced
Changing strings and swapping cables

Running towards an on-stage crisis
Like firefighters to a burning building

As I stand there helpless, guitar in hand
My ego swiftly wilting

In younger days before ever on stage
My problems seemed to last forever

If only I'd had my own road crew show up
To duct tape and super glue my life together

This Is An Artist

2009-12-17T14:25:00.039-05:00

The previous post was originally going to be more of a "tour diary" in which I said something like this:

"Greetings from Pittsburgh. We’ve just had our busiest week of the tour and I'm sorry it's caused a delay in the posts. But I just had a day off and I'm inspired to write. Why? Because I visited the Andy Warhol Museum, where I not only saw some great Warhol paintings but also a terrific, comprehensive exhibit of this great artist Shepard Fairey, blah blah blah..."

Instead, I chose to approach it more in the spirit of this artist himself, by putting one of his controversial pieces out there with no introduction or explanation. I was a bit surprised that most responses were negative towards it. Then again, I have to remember that when I saw the piece in person, it was a small part of the giant collage seen here:

There were 90 paintings, all of which had a collective unity and cohesion that combined to create much more color and energy than any individual poster, becoming one very broad work of art. And this wall was very tiny in comparison to the vast amount of accompanying works, which included entire murals and took over several floors of the museum.

Seeing any piece of art up close and personal is very different from looking at a copy on-line or in print and necessary to fully appreciate the work. There were many years where I never understood what was so important about Andy Warhol's "Soup Cans." I remember thinking He copied cans of Campbell's Soup. What's the big fucking deal? But when I saw the actual exhibit of the soup cans, permanently on display at the Museum Of Modern Art in New York, I was blown away. The detail, color and intricacy was mesmerizing. It belied the plainness of the subject and brought eternal beauty to a common grocery item. It became an experience, especially when placed in the proper context with Warhol's other work. I believe if you see Shepard Fairey's piece 'This Is A Poster' in person, the way I did in Pittsburgh, you will have a much deeper experience with it, regardless of your initial reaction seeing it here.

The exhibit, dubbed "Shepard Fairey: Supply And Demand" is organized by the Institute Of Contemporary Art in Boston. It has just recently moved to Pittsburgh's Andy Warhol museum. This is fitting since Fairey is a disciple of the pop artist and the closest thing we have to a modern day Warhol. Next year, the exhibit travels to Los Angeles and New York. I highly recommend it and believe even the naysayers will 'get it' once they experience Fairey's work in this context. In the meantime, you can explore more of his art HERE and at Fairey's official website

I was immediately struck by this brilliant visual artist, even though I didn't know his name. There was a strong familiarity with his work. “I know this guy” I thought. But how?

The truth his, Shepard Fairey's work is everywhere. Just the other week, I bought a copy of George Orwell's "Animal Farm," a book I've been meaning to read for years. I was drawn to it at this time because of its striking artwork, something Fairey has also applied to Orwell's quintessential work, "1984," the themes of which I had in mind when writing lyrics for the 1988 Testament album, "The New Order (Megaforce/Atlantic)."
I've seen some great music posters, featuring such artists as Paul McCartney, and Led Zeppelin. His art has even been right here on this blog since Nov. 08, an image that is now his most famous piece. All of the originals are on display in "Supply And Demand."

Fairey's work has also been in many places it’s not supposed to be. Remember all those 'Andre The Giant Has A Posse' stickers? I’d seen those for years, in the San Fancisco Bay Area and other places. What was the sticker promoting? A band? A cult? A comic book? The truth is, those stickers have no meaning at all, other than to serve a purpose, which is the search for meaning. It is an experiment in the relatively recent science of phenomenology, which is described by Answers.com as "A philosophy or method of inquiry based on the premise that reality consists of objects and events as they are perceived or understood in human consciousness and not of anything independent of human consciousness."

The face of Andre is the same face in 'This is a poster' and the slogan, 'Obey,' which in my opinion, serves the purpose of making us aware of how much we tend to behave like sheep, blindly following our peers, corporations and governments, the media and trends. "This is a poster" is not telling you to obey, but rather telling you to take note and be aware and question whether you are doing so.

Shepard Fairey uses his work to draw attention to important social issues. His images encourage us to question what we are told, question our system and realize that we live in a society not unlike those portrayed in books like '1984' or movies such as ‘The Matrix,’ fictional worlds where life is artificial and commercially driven and most citizens unaware that they are being controlled and manipulated by subliminal forces. Fairey's art points out how this has become true in our modern day and age. Facing the truth is scary to many people, so it is not surprising his work has been subject to severe criticism.

I feel what is being said in 'This Is A Poster,' is very deep. It is a message bout human nature, group mentality, psychology and how advertisers and the media take advantage of it. It makes you aware of it by using the same method it is critiquing. Is it being advertiser or is it being the consumer advocate? Is it both? Like the sticker campaign it begs the question “What is this?”

Whether you like the text in "This Is A Poster" or not, it shakes things up, stirs them around and causes a reaction. That's a good thing and is great art. I did keep reading and I do want to buy the poster, although I'm having trouble finding one for sale (Fairey's prints come in limited quantity). It is not art imitating life, but art becoming life.

Shepard Fairey is creating a whole other level of art that reaches beyond the pages of a book and the walls of a museum to become something else entirely. What that is, we’re not sure, and the very search for answers becomes part of the art itself.

"This Is A Poster"

2009-12-15T20:44:00.009-05:00

THIS IS A POSTER:

What is a virtuoso?

2009-11-25T01:33:00.017-05:00

Last weeks post has sparked some considerable debate. Mixed in among the many 'Beavis & Butthead' like rants have been a few very well thought out opinions both in agreement and disagreement of the "James Hetfield" post. Most interesting has been the question that seems to have arisen from the aftermath: what is a virtuoso?

Many are applying the word 'virtuoso' to someone who is able to engage in fast soloing. The guy at the right, for example, is the historic violin wizard Nicolo Paganini, who is a classic example of a virtuoso. If he were alive today, he would probably be thought of as a 'shredder' as well. While there is no official definition of a 'shredder,' it seems to mean someone who plays fast solos, like Paganini, or modern guitarists, myself included, who engage in fast soloing.

"Virtuoso," on the other hand, does have some 'official' definitions. For example, the Merriam-Webster On-Line Dictionary, defines a virtuoso as a highly skilled musical performer. Using that as our definition, I ask the following: Is James Hetfield a highly skilled musical performer?

Most would probably say yes. But some would argue against his being termed a virtuoso since he doesn't fit the description of a so called 'shredder,' Now here's where things get murky: must one be a 'shredder' to be a 'virtuoso?'

I say no. Why should the terms 'virtuoso' and 'shredder' be mutually intertwined?

To me, a virtuoso is someone who achieves two things. The first is that they create good music (something which is in itself completely subjective). The second, (and this is important), is that they are able to execute it flawlessly. There is no truer test for this than a live concert.

When I saw Metallica last February at the Prudential Center in Newark, NJ, it was a great concert largely because of James. It's not that I didn't enjoy the other guys performances. They were all great and the music wouldn't have been the same without them. But only James was flawless.

I'm speaking mainly about his guitar playing, since vocals are too subjective for this discussion. His rhythm playing, slow melodic solos and acoustic playing, which had a couple pretty cool licks thrown in, was perfectly executed. It showed a strong sense of timing, technique, dynamics, feel and dare I say it, virtuosity.

Where do I get off making this judgement? If I may be so bold, I think its safe to say I've acquired a developed sense of hearing. It's been very much helped by jazz studies at the New School. Some of the teachers there were great pianists like Richie Beirach and Gerard D'Angelo who would drill me with these 'ear training' techniques, such as being able to pick out triads, chords and intervals instantly. I've also spent countless hours in the recording studio which acts as an audio microscope and heightens ones standards of listening.

I'm not saying any of this makes me 'special,' only that like the many other music professionals out there with similar training and hands on experience, I have an ear for the slightest glitches and discrepancies. And I'm telling you, James Hetfield is a the real deal, the type of artist that a producer looks for in a band, the guy who is able to deliver effortlessly, on the spot and with consistency. I've talked to many others I respect, engineers, producers and musicians of all genres, and they agree.

So when I said James is a 'virtuoso' it was not from the perspective of a 'fan boy,' or to be an 'ass kisser' (as a couple nitwits have indicated), just an honest opinion from a music professional.

I think it is best summed up by an insightful comment by someone called 'Jostopholes,' who really seems to get it:

" Skolnick's comment doesn't mean james can shred like him or friedman but more that james brings a wide array of things to the table[vocals, rhythm, lead songwriting] in a greater, more balanced capacity than just about anyone in music, much less metal."

James Hetfield

2009-11-17T19:06:00.008-05:00

Recently a writer from The Quietus, Mark Eglinton, asked for my thoughts on Metallica's James Hetfield. While it's no secret that the fans, myself included, haven't always agreed with every decision Metallica has made as a band, I've chosen to look at a subject which seems to have gotten lost in the chaos of Metallica's superstardom: James, the musician.

James Hetfield is a an unsung virtuoso. His guitar and vocal sound, along with his song ideas, has enabled Metallica to go from being classified alongside Motorhead and Venom to being aligned with Bruce Springsteen and U2. Much of hard music today has been changed by his guitar tone, rhythm playing and vocal technique, making him arguably the most influential musician of his generation.

James has had more of an influence than most 'lead' guitarists and is a great lead guitarist himself. His occasional solos are among Metallica's most memorable, proving that speed and chops are secondary to melody.
He also a terrific acoustic guitarist, playing intricate parts with a lot of depth, consistency and dynamics.

I'm convinced that had he chosen to play drums, bass or lead guitar in his band, James Hetfield would have been just as influential and virtuosic.

American: To Buy Or Not To Buy?

2009-11-10T14:29:00.010-05:00

In light of my last post, I think it's a perfect time to share the following exchange. This e-mail came in through my website last April. I know the response is a bit out of character for me, but I thought I'd have some fun with it. Unfortunately, the guy's e-mail was invalid, so it got bounced back.

-----Original Message-----
>From: Alex Skolnick Fan
>Sent: Apr 9, 2009 1:26 PM
>To: Alex Skolnick Fan
>Subject: AlexSkolnick.com email

>
>Yo Alex, Just saw you pushing Japanese guitars in the Guitar Center catalog. You are a piece of SHIT! Please encourage people to buy American. Thank you.

Hey dooshbag- my electric guitars are made by Heritage in Kalamazoo Michigan, in the old Gibson plant. They are as American as you can get and one of the only truly US manufactured guitars left. By playing Heritage, I'm choosing a small handcrafted American company over the bigger, American corporate guitar companies, that are making most of their models outside the US.

I play Yamaha because they make great acoustic guitars. Just ask James Taylor, Paul Simon and other seminal American artists who play them. I get the added benefits of working with a large, established company that balances out the fact that I'm endorsing a very small American company for my electric guitars. Yamaha, besides making quality instruments, is very open about the fact that its a Japanese company. Isn't that better than choosing an 'American' guitar that was really built in Mexico, Korea or Japan?

If you'd done any research, you would have known this. Now who's the piece of shit?

AS