When David revealed on Twitter March 5th that “She’s Not You” was from “a while back”—and therefore wasn’t a candidate for the second album—I felt relieved.

No, no, no… it’s not that I hate the song. I like it: it’s catchy, and in particular the melody and the guitar in the verses create a nice vibe. (Though the chorus is a bit too bland for my liking.) When I first heard it, I felt anxiety about the second pop album… was this the direction it was headed?

We now know that it was a track recorded for David’s first album, but still my day or two of not knowing this made it a useful reference point for thinking about where David’s studio production was at 18 months ago, and what new directions it could and should go in now.

“She’s Not You” resembled much of the first album in its level of quality, and in that it was quite conventional—it dealt with simple young boy-girl love, and fell squarely in that space between R&B and pop that characterized much of the album. This approach made sense at the time—it was perhaps the smartest thing to try first to create commercial success, and after all there was little time for David and the label to define jointly the best approach for the album. But now David and the label have the benefit of time to create an album that paints some bold strokes—bold, first in the sense of having some particularly strong, standout songs, and second, bold in expressing who David is as a person and an artist.

Because, let’s face it: we, his fans, know that David is capable of greatness. Still, we have yet to see a musical composition that summons an emotional gravitas that is commensurate to David’s ability to convey it. I am not asking that the perfect song be on David’s second album. However, it is fair to want and expect that a genuine attempt be made.

That means songs that feature David’s voice. Songs that David can connect with. Songs that can summon some of that earth-shaking emotion we know David is capable of delivering.

This doesn’t necessarily mean abandoning the pop route—in fact, if we are to speak of industry formulas, it seems to me that a pop power ballad, putting that stellar voice on a pedestal, would be the best approach. But what can I say? When it comes to what makes a song a hit, I’m not an expert. Still, as amateur fans we know enough to know that some things work for David that should be done.

In terms of arrangement and production, David’s fans are now more aware than before that, when it comes to David, it is often true that less is more. The bare instrumentation of “Contigo” put David’s voice front and center. As listeners, we honed in, not on the melody or the instruments, but on the subtleties of David’s voice. No fancy, expensive studio tricks, no synthesized hooks vying for our attention. Just us, and The Voice—a direct emotional conduit between the listener and the artist.

Another aspect of “Contigo” and of other songs (“Fields of Gold,” “Prayer of the Children,” “Imagine”) is that they were dear to David, on a theme that David could relate to. In my opinion, “Somebody Out There” was a much stronger ballad than either “To Be With You” and “You Can,” which I think comes down to the fact that David co-wrote SOT and could relate directly to what it said. “Falling” is gripping because we know these are David’s words, and that this music comes directly from his heart.

So I hope to see some movement in these directions with the second album. I am not saying that the album should be comprised entirely of soul-wrenching ballads. (Though I actually wouldn’t mind that.) In fact, I am hoping that there is some freedom given to David to express his rich musicality in a variety of musical genres.

In the first album, there was some variation in styles in the official twelve-track version, but they were a bit outside of David’s own inclinations. Unlike songs such as “Desperate” or “Running,” which because of the production were kind of hybrids of other styles, a conventional-pop melody with some stylistic dressing—some of the compositions David himself worked on, from the sassy “Works for Me,” to the club-thumping “Zero Gravity,” to the intimate “Somebody Out There,” jumped fully into the genre, spoke its language, and expressed a clear idea both lyrically and musically. Thus, a unity between words, music, and artist.

The most promising fact about the second album has been David’s extensive involvement in the writing process. This suggests that the folks at Jive/Zomba are trying a different approach and want this album to express David the Individual, whoever that may be. It is thrilling to think of what might be in store.

For now, “She’s Not You” is my new David music fix to sustain me through this long, extended Archudrought. Still, I do this with full knowledge that this isn’t the David that made me fall obsessively in love with him in the first place. Greater things await.

If this song were a person, then it would be the musical equivalent of a rebound—entertaining and pleasant enough for now, but just someone to hold me over while I’m really thinking about someone else.

“He was really nice… but he’s not you, David. I just know you’ll come back to me. I’m burning a candle in the window…”

-Ronaldsf

Now, admittedly I am going to be crucified for this comparison. At least tarred and feathered, pilloried and certainly carted away in a white coat. Put this on TOfan’s list of ODD in overdrive. Hello? David barely plays the guitar; Jimmy is not a vocalist. I know that, but what the hell, might as well confirm the obvious…happy has lost it. Not really “lost it” like “Bliss-lost-his-mind” lost it (btw- how’s the finding going?), just inspired by the movie I saw the other day, “It Might Get Loud.” If it is playing near you, and it probably is not because the theaters near you are busy playing the Miley Cyrus movie, you should treat yourself and go see it. It is well worth the $10. (For a more detailed description visit www.itmightgetloud.com.) For those of you who won’t see it until it hits video, and for the purposes of my comparison, I will hit a few high points.

It seems Jimmy started playing the guitar at 12 and played a simple form of English street music called “skiffle.” One thing lead to another, Jimmy was bitten by the bug and *poof* Led Zeppelin was hatched. Well, not exactly. He began touring with his band and was concerned that the touring was hazardous to his health. He stopped touring and when it became apparent that he could play anything he became a sought after session guitarist. He made a living for a period of time and came to believe that he was not satisfying his creative urges. He said he felt he was not creating, not even interpreting anymore, just playing. Fast forward to the creation of the band alive in his imagination, Led Zeppelin. He knew what he wanted this band to sound like, and it wasn’t like anyone else.

Being a lover of guitar riffs and having heard “Stairway to Heaven” about enough times since I was ten to last for all time, I have lived with the ignorant notion that that song sort of always existed. I take it for granted. As if it, and other iconic songs, somehow just came into being down a stairway from heaven.

I ought to consider that the music of Jimmy Page was a real reaction to the musical experiences of a real artist and a real musician. He was a serious musician who became obsessed and practiced and evolved over time. He studied the history and evolution of popular music. While he was a ridiculously young 24 at the time, he was not just starting out either. His learning curve was steep. He wasn’t the same musician that toured when he was 18. He wasn’t the session artist of 20. He was building on his musical experiences.

His rock music mixed “blues, folk, and eastern influences with distorted amplification. He also helped create one of the first fuzz boxes, came up with innovative recording techniques such as reverse echo, recording ambient sound and using stairwells to record drums. He rapidly became known for his innovative production techniques as well as his intricate guitar playing. Page used a bow, slide guitar, eastern scales, acoustic guitar, and the double-neck in addition to inventive recording techniques to create the Led Zeppelin sound, which became a prototype for all future rock bands.”

I imagine David may never be about the in-your-face freedom and power of electric guitar and rock and roll. Maybe he will always be about the subtle beauty and nuanced control of that perfect voice. But I think he’s got a maverick in him; a little bit of Jimmy Page. I think he too hears in his head something different from the pop music of his day, a different stairway to heaven. Something not quite fleshed out. Go ahead, tell me I’m nuts. Tell me you’re “not into Jimmy, dude.” Tell me you have no desire for David-at-24 to channel the stubborn resolve, the artistic commitment and the unadulterated brilliance of Mr. Page. But I might disagree …. and it might get loud.

~ happy the crazy

http://www.ledzeppelin.com/

www.youtube.com/watch?v=81eSIwsLcWg

I know you’ve heard it 10,000 times, so why not 10,001?  And if you don’t have 11 minutes then skip to 6:20- 9:20.  

btw~ after I wrote this I was reading around the net and found this quote by Pete Townshend:
“I feel sad for people who have to judge *********  on the basis of recordings and film alone, because in the flesh he was so extraordinary. He had a kind of alchemist’s ability; when he was on the stage, he changed. He physically changed. He became incredibly graceful and beautiful…. he had a power that almost sobered you up if you were on an acid trip.”

….. I’m feeling I should rewrite the whole thing and compare David to …….. Hendrix…..  

So, when the idea for My Name Is Barbra was pitched to CBS executives, the network was ambivalent. They had a number of misgivings: No guest stars? Focus entirely on a 22-year-old who had never headlined a television program before? Nix the audience and film outside of the television studio? String songs together without introduction in an extended montage, united only by concept? Isn’t Barbra just a singer? You mean she can act, too?? No one had done anything like it before.

Furthermore, the hour-long experiment was organized into three acts, each with its own concept. The first focused on growing into womanhood, and the second was a comedic song medley. The third act was simply Barbra lit under a single spotlight before a studio audience, singing songs from her nightclub act and her musical Funny Girl. The songs ranged from blues, jazz, to ballad, giving her time and room to demonstrate her vocal range—from jazzy growl to Broadway belt to crystal-clear soprano. Though the sole focus, she engaged and captivated the camera. Everything was just her expression, the music, and her voice. By the end of the hour, it was undeniable that here was the greatest American entertainer of her generation.

What resulted from this gamble was critical and commercial acclaim, and an Emmy in Outstanding Individual Achievement in Entertainment. Barbra Streisand became an international superstar.

The purpose of raising My Name Is Barbra is not to propose a formula for David to achieve critical and popular acclaim. Sure, there are similarities between the two artists: an other-worldly voice, a gift with phrasing, the ability to shape one’s voice to suit a variety of emotions and genres. Also, like Barbra, David thrives in live performance, must “live” in every song, and is loath to lip-sync or perform the same way twice.

But David is his own artist with his own set of strengths. (Some still yet undiscovered.) What makes My Name Is Barbra so enlightening is not the formula itself, but the readiness of Barbra and the musicians she worked with to focus the entire show on her and her strengths, and in the process to break the rules, not look back, and take a leap of faith.

At the same time, My Name Is Barbra relied upon the strengths Barbra had already established four years into her career, as an actress, comedian, singer, and performer. It then peeled back everything that was extraneous and permitted Barbra’s full talent to shine. David is already developing a growing sense of what “works for me” and is starting to experiment.

David’s stripped-down, entirely acoustic concert in Louisville, KY on August 5, 2009 was David’s first major foray into breaking the rules. David dispensed with the flashy rock-god entrance, and walked in with the rest of the band to set-up for the show. The entire set was acoustic, and the songs were mellowed down in order better to focus on David’s voice. During at least one song, David was accompanied only by an acoustic bass. Everything meant that the spotlight, musically, fell on him and him alone. David himself said that he liked doing the concert this way because it meant he did not have to focus on “performing” and could just focus on the music. He was at ease, smiling and laughing. Although not recorded, David’s Louisville concert left an indelible impression on all of his fans, including those that never had the privilege to hear a single note.

This is only the most remarkable instance of David’s readiness to disregard the rules and strip things down in order better to connect with his music, a happy consequence of which is the showcasing of his instrument. Nearly every change-up David has made has gone in this direction, whether it has been to strip down the instrumentation (“Apologize,” “Desperate,” or “Crazy”), or to sing entirely in a cappella (his Christmas songs during the Jingle Balls, “Angels,” “Como La Flor,” “Prayer for the Children”).

This tradition goes back even farther, such as to his early YouTube performance of “A Thousand Miles.” Some of his standout American Idol performances were remarkable precisely because they were stripped down to only a few musical instruments (guitar in “Imagine,” bass and bongo drums in “Stand By Me,” and piano in “Love Me Tender”).

This is not the only context in which David shines. Don’t forget the pulse-pounding club king (“Zero Gravity”). Oh, and that rock belter who made a guest appearance with REO Speedwagon. These adventures outside the familiar R&B/pop territory of David’s debut album are what have elicited the most passionate response from fans. What is consistent among these different routes is that David loves them all. And as it so happens, none of these directions is one in which any male teen star has ventured in recent memory, let alone in combination.

So only one thing is for sure as to how David will make his full musical and cultural impact: it will be a way that is new and entirely suited to him. This is part of why it has been so difficult—both for David’s management and for his fans—to map out a “path” for David. That path is uncharted.

My Name Is Barbra does not provide a model to be copied verbatim. First, with a talent as unique as David’s, the manner of showcasing that talent must also be unique. Second, Barbra was already established at the time, having already had four best-selling albums, the enthusiastic support of New York music critics, and the cover of Time, and therefore was in the position to convince a network to take such a risk. My Name Is Barbra also arguably had an easier time making a broad impact because of the time period: it aired when a single network could draw in the majority of all TV viewers, and commercial practices had not yet compromised the integrity of much of artistic presentation.

Still, My Name Is Barbra serves as a reference point, as a previous triumph, as an example of the power of tailoring a presentation to showcase one’s strengths. It does not give all the answers, but it does make us ask the right questions. Does David shine when instruments hold back so we can focus on his voice? Okay, so let’s give him a microphone, tone down the band, point a camera at him, and let him do wonders. Does David seem most comfortable interacting with fans? Alright, let’s put him in a setting with some of his most devoted fans. Does he want to have Ashlee on board to do a duet? Or Lupe? No problem. Whatever makes you most at ease, David, so you can relax, smile, and enjoy what you’re doing. Choose the songs that move you: you are at your most powerful when you are at your most vulnerable. And if something feels right to you, then it probably is.

One could argue that David had a moment to shine with “Imagine” on American Idol. This was true. However, David soon got sublimated under the machinations and drama of AI. It never really was about David. For many people, it was still largely one event within the context of a larger competition. At the end of the day, to much of the world David was still a reality TV contestant. David still has yet to fulfill what he feels is his personal mission of sharing his music with the world.

As for what it might take to no longer be seen as a TV show contestant and finally become known simply as “David Archuleta”—this might be as simple as giving him a microphone on a national stage and letting him sing a song he truly and deeply loves, done the way he feels is right.

Here is the final act of My Name Is Barbra, of Barbra giving a concert to a live studio audience. If you have not seen this before, you are in for a treat. Set aside 15 minutes, let her take you where she’s going, and think of what the segment accomplishes and how. Let it fuel your imagination as to what might lie in the future for David.

Even true greatness needs the right stage. For David, that stage has yet to be built.

- ronaldsf

I’m done. That’s it. I’ve decided for David, and I hope he listens to me. “Forget the hype. Forget the fanfare. Lose the distractions. Do what you do, and leave the rest, because what you do is extraordinary.” 

I understand that he is a young man. Young. I get that, and I am happy for him. Oh, the special joy of youth. And I understand that music is a business. I understand that shtick and little girls’ tee shirts sell. I understand that he is a charismatic performer capable of mesmerizing 100,000 fans at a time. I understand that Zero Gravity is a great dance tune and that it was my favorite song of the solo tour. Noted, noted, and duly noted. I understand that I prefer the lava bomb to the sunshine. 

And I also understand that David Archuleta is a masterful artist. “Do what you do David. And leave the rest.” 

TriBeCa’s P.C. Richard & Son Theater is my new favorite venue in the whole world. Not even my living room would have been better….the acoustics are no good…too much furniture…and the lighting is all wrong. But the lighting and acoustics at the PC Richard Theater were surprisingly good. David’s voice sounded rich and full and resonant. The half filled little theater was a pleasure to behold. I was fortunate enough to stand front and center…front, front, center, center. Close enough to tie the crisp white laces of his new converse. The venue was intimate. Absent was the frenetic vibe of the mosh pit born of the solo tour. Here I was moshing without the moshing. No pushing, minimal screaming and no ringing in my ears. I was able to really concentrate on David-the-man. David the man. The artist. 

David-the-18-year-old-chit-chatterer was charming and darling. He talked about MS and hibachi, about lettuce and touring and twittering. He seemed relaxed and happy. He said he was happy to be performing before such a small and intimate audience in a small and intimate venue. His smile seemed genuine and the Q & A was delightful. There he stood before us, an ordinary boy talking about ordinary things. He even whipped out his cell phone and twittered like every other ordinary twitterer. But. He also sang. David-the-artist sang. 

While David-the-twitterer evoked smiles of amusement on the faces of the audience, most notably the 15 year old girls I was sharing space with, David-the-artist conjured a very different reaction. David-the-artist made these girls shake. And scream. And reach out. Their excitement and joy was a pleasure to witness. 

David the artist sat at his keyboard and sang Angels. A song he has sung countless times and which he said he never tires of singing. Angels and 1000 Miles. Here he was stripped of the distractions, of the nonsense of the business, and got to the business of his art. His voice was controlled and pure and beautiful. As I watched him and the sound of his voice filled me, it seemed he was saying to me, “This is what I do. I am a real live person; an artist; and I sing. We all do something. I sing and this is my gift to you. I hope you like it.” 

For all of the gifts that David has to share with us, for me, this is where he belongs. Simple and uncluttered. The simplicity lifts the extraordinary voice. You do not need to embellish a rose. Its exquisite beauty can be most completely appreciated when it does not have to compete for your attention. 

As David continues on his artistic journey, I hope he sees in himself what I see in him: the exquisite beauty of a perfect voice, full of the subtleties of human emotion. Forget the hype. Forget the fanfare. Lose the distractions. Do what you do David, and leave the rest. Because what you do is extraordinary.

~happy 

I have to admit that the first time I heard David say these words, I laughed at the youthful story, remembering my own teen years, singing with my girlfriends at a pajama party, hairbrushes serving as microphones. But over the months, we’ve watched interview after interview where David reveals some quirky anecdote, a surprising viewpoint about himself or a way of thinking that baffles the mind (think “cinnamon” and “mazeltov”).

At first blush, these might be viewed as mistakes made by someone uninitiated in what to say in an interview. They are often amusing, endearing responses. But viewed in the context of months and months of interviews by the ridiculous DJs, as well as the thoughtful interviewers, perhaps what we are seeing is a glimpse of a characteristic that forms the foundation of David’s artistry — a complete lack of guile.

David wears no mask, on stage or off. He opens himself up in ways that most of us would not, and perhaps, could not do. He doesn’t try to be cool, but considers questions carefully then answers them honestly, if awkwardly. He responds to cheesy games with responses that often stun or confuse the interviewer. Always real, always authentic, David shows us exactly who he is, even if that person is a confusing mix of savvy adult and naïve boy.

On stage David does the very same thing — but oh, how the music incites him to dig deeper. No one can fake the intense emotion that David brings to his performances. He opens up what is in his heart and lets it pour out through his voice, his movement, his expression.

Nothing is held back. Unlike the choreographed performances of today’s “packaged artists,” David dares to do what comes naturally — developing his performance skill by letting go with abandon, immersing himself in the power of the emotion that the music inspires. He feels it. We feel it.

Whether David is performing a deeply intense Don’t Let Go or the hopping, jumping, party-mood-inducing Zero Gravity, he fully engages with the music, taking us with him to whatever emotional landscape lives inside him at that moment.

Seasoned performers would pay to know how to do that. I’m not sure you can learn how to do that. Not unless you are willing to strip off the façade of cool, check your ego at the door, and allow yourself to respond honestly and authentically to what is happening right now. This is the difference between an entertainer and an artist.

David Archuleta is an artist.

— Marlie7

If there were ever any remaining doubts as to David Archuleta’s sincerity–or, for that matter, the kind of direct availability of raw emotion that signifies the truly gifted performing artist–they would have been vanquished this past Friday in Murray, Utah. Though as terrifically contrived as everything else about American Idol, David’s so-called homecoming (never mind that he couldn’t sleep in his own bed due to security concerns) was by all indications a heartfelt affair. But screaming girls and proclamations, street signs and golden microphones were no match for the sheer luminosity of David himself.

Through all of his humility and even occasional (though diminishing) embarrassment, David has a rare and remarkable ability to be utterly vulnerable in public. This rattles some people. It makes them uncomfortable to the point of not wanting to believe it; it’s frightening. Which means that it’s also incredibly courageous.

Genuine vulnerability in performance is a holy grail. Actors work on it incessantly. David’s childhood reluctance to perform despite a fervent passion for singing was an early indication of the rare combination of outward expression and inward sensitivity that would result in such a uniquely compelling artist. But what was compelling about David on Friday was who he showed himself to be off-stage.

Unlike so many young people of aspiration who give off the dubious impression of having imagined every artifact of success, David never seems to be anywhere other than where he is at that very moment. He has neither anticipated it nor been there before. In some circles, this is known as the Buddha nature, a wisdom of the present moment that is cultivated with what is very particularly referred to as a “childlike wonder.” Those who elect to pursue this path in a conscious way often confront the need to unlearn a lot of ego defenses and protections, most of which are well-cemented by the teenage years. In this light, David might appear to be what some call a Bodhisattva. In Tibetan Buddhism, a Bodhisattva is anyone who is motivated by compassion and seeks enlightenment not only for themselves but for everyone.

It is a strange and in some ways unfortunate comment about the world we live in today that we put a greater value on–and perhaps even more belief in–an overworked phrase, a self-conscious display of diplomacy, or a well-articulated acknowledgment, than we do on a simple and heartfelt expression of emotion like “oh, wow.” And if David’s full and compassionate presence wasn’t evident enough in his game enthusiasm in the local Fox studios, or his passionate performance of The Star Spangled Banner at the Utah Jazz game after a long and tiring day, then it was at least in the enormity of his gratitude displayed at his autograph signing, when the immensity of his support–over 9000 people by some estimates–became visible to him. The freedom of expression David showed in that moment is at once an indication of great humanity and a powerful potential for great artistry.