I was editing some video footage of the spooky pictographs and petroglyphs of Sego Canyon from our cross country road trip this summer, and suddenly there was a giant flash of white light. The Mac froze, iMovie froze, and nothing would work.
The hard drive had all the most recent Rain Station tracks Mark and I have been recording together. The hard drive is now with a repair and recovery service, so in a couple weeks I should have it back. For now the music project stands at 30 minutes. If the hard drive recovery folk can fix it for me, we can continue our project. If not, it is what it is.
I have been listening to these tracks a lot this vacation. I like them as they stand now, but there are a few tweaks needed here and there. I really hope we can get the drive fixed, and still add a little work to the tracks until they are more slippery than the average tonsil. I like these raw tracks as they are today, but I know deep down Mark would be bummed out to leave them as they stand. I just know he’s got a few surprises up his sleeve, if given the chance to shake them out.
I’ll just buy a couple new hard drives, record some new drum beats, and get on with simply making more music with Mark. I feel like we are half way there with this project. If we make as much music as we’ve already made, we’ll have a lot of great new tunes to decide which actually make it to the new release. In the future I’ll keep all haunted Indian petroglyph video footage off any hard drive with our important music files. Lesson learned.
My family and I decided to take a little trip to Maine for the summer, but all it has done is rain, rain, and rain. Sure I know this is RainStation.com – so in one way or another, I guess I could be to blame for all this. All I know is if you are here on the east coast this summer of 2009, it might be time to start building an arc.
What to do after weeks of gloom? Write a song. It’s not a happy song, but what can I do? There might be some hope in there somewhere, but from where I sit, I’ve yet to hear it. Maybe time will show me something different. I suppose if I share the song with you all, and someone, anyone likes it, well, that is a kind of hope, now isn’t it?
I grew up here on this lake I am now visiting. My childhood hopes and dreams were all rooted here. Whatever I do, and whatever I become, this place is my beginning. I always pine away when I am not here for some part of the year. I have to admit I always imagine it just a tad bit different from when I actually visit. I forget the little cabin is next to archaic, needs water to be carried up a steep hill when the pump is not working. I collect wood to heat our bodies when it gets cold. When the rain comes there is little to do but sit here and watch the rain on the lake, listen to the loons, and hope for a sunny day to swim, kayak, hike, and explore. My wife and daughter love it here, but this summer has been a challenge. We have got a little cabin fevered, and the close quarters has gotten on our nerves a bit. We are driving one another crazy to put it mildly. The four year old jumps from chair to chair, shooting her bow and arrow where ever it may land, and me, I am not sure where I brought my family this year.
This song is the result of us talking a bit too much as of late. There are times silence is golden. Even the most intimate of people should not know too much about one another. Mystery can be a good thing, and truth can at times hurt more than not knowing.
This is just a few seconds under 30 minutes. These are my 8 favorites, and I’m having a tough time with order. I really believe a CD has to transition smooth, and feel like some sort of story is being told. This is the best I can come up with, but I keep changing it, and listening to it for a better mix. We just need the songs we haven’t recorded yet, and then it will all come together. Since I’m traveling to Maine, this is the mix I’m taking with me. I’ll be back in CA end of August so Mark and I can finish this project. Until then, anyone got a better playing order for these 8 songs?
To download our new tunes, simply right click each one and “Save Target As” to your desk top. Then right click the mp3 files on your desk top and “Open With” iTunes or other music player.
It is indeed a wonderous thing when Mr. Mark Harvey comes to play his guitars. It’s not easy getting both of us in the same room at the same time, but when it happens, I think it’s what we’re on earth to do. Make music together. Here’s another fun clunky ditty we put together for you to listen to. With your ears.
I am so happy that Mark could get this recording onto bandcamp’s way cool site. This is a set of songs I wrote. It’s just Mark and I playing acoustic guitars and singing into his DAT player. Recorded in the living room at the Rain Station (which was a little house off 45th and Lawton in the Sunset of San Francisco). I gotta record a couple of these songs in a studio some day. They have potential. I guess that’s what I love about this recording. It’s immediate, live, and real. This is what Rain Station sounds like LIVE- campy, kooky, stoney…
I don’t remember a thing about this recording. I remember making the CD cover artwork, and I remember recording Summer Home, Widdershins, and Quiet Morning… it’s such a blurr. Mark, do you know the story of this disc? It seems to have about 3 different worlds compiled into one project. There are the tunes with Tony and Brian, the stuff you and Brian made, but where was I at that time? Did I return to Maine for a while? What do you remember about the process of making this disc?
I still dig this 15 track recording. It is from a time when we just plugged into the old 4-track and whoever was around added a bass, guitar, or something. After a while, I had all sorts of great tracks. I noticed that the best tracks had Mark on them. Criminal Goat is a collection of the tracks with Mark, and Rain Station was born. We’ve continued to record off and on when time permits for the past 800 years. It’s an amazing track record if nothing else. Criminal Goat is a clunky, strange, home recording. It’s very improv based, and raw. I still get a good creative vibe off it. I like to draw while I listen. I draw really weird stuff too. It’s a project that just keeps giving, and it’s here now for your pleasure, or pain… Criminal Goat by Rain Station.
Summer of 1993 I was in Boston walking in the rain toward South Station to catch a bus to Maine to see my folks. There was a lot of construction at the new station, so there were temporary fences and walkways, with lots of signs to help find your way. Everyone was doing their best to stay under the roof of the tracks to stay dry. A man holding a briefcase was standing in a way so that his case was hiding the first letter to a sign. As I walked into the area, I saw a bold blue sign with an arrow that read, RAIN STATION. My brain took a minute and wondered what a Rain Station was. Do they monitor the rain fall there? Is it a temporary structure to keep passengers dry? Then as my perspective and angle changed, I noticed there was a T behind his briefcase, and the sign said Train Station. Silly me. Here I am at Boston’s South Station, and I think the sign says Rain Station. The moment stuck with me. I had seen a sign. Not only did Mark and I name the band Rain Station, but we named the (soon to be condemned) house we lived in, Rain Station being in the fog zone of San Francisco’s Sunset Beach District. Black mold took that house over, and we all had to move out. Hack hack cough cough. Very damp and rainy indeed.
I was editing some video footage of the spooky pictographs and petroglyphs of Sego Canyon from our cross country road trip this summer, and suddenly there was a giant flash of white light. The Mac froze, iMovie froze, and nothing would work.
