I’m not sure what year it was, but everybody was young. The crowd was… well, let’s say the crowd was just one person. Me. I was front and center with a bag of popcorn, close enough to the footlights to feel the heat. The concert that changed my life was about to begin and all I knew was that I wanted to hear some music. House lights down, the curtain parted, somewhere in the building an idiot complained about the wrong-sized bread.

The opening acts were a classic rock revue- not the shit that classic rock stations play now. Van Halen is not classic rock; Eddie learned his moves from these guys. Steppenwolf, The Who, and The Guess Who played back-to-back short sets, reminding all that you can still rock without auto-tune or makeup. I was in high school, but these guys wrote these songs decades earlier. Once the drums had exploded, the roadies dragged them offstage and brought out the evening’s first headlining act.

Like a curveball nailing a batter smack in the ear, the concert shifted to Contemporary Christian music. I shit you not, Jars of Clay started off with that one song that got played everywhere. At this point I was in college and the popcorn was already half empty. Dan said thank you and made his exit, just as the man himself walked on with a guitar. He was three feet tall and smiling like some kind of weird celtic punk-folk pixie. The rest of the band took their places and Caedmon’s Call started their set.

They didn’t just play a few songs, they performed a strange drama right in front of me. The beginning of the set did something Christian music’s not supposed to do: it made me think. And it made me dance (I must have looked weird, all alone in that front row). The band realized their mistake, I guess, and started playing the typical praise-and-worship crap. Only the diminutive one seemed as disappointed as I by the change in mood. By the end of their set, the house was silent and unmoving. The band quietly disassembled their gear and walked off stage right, but Derek Webb exited alone, stage left. He’d be back later.

For a long time there was nothing. It was as though the stage manager realized they’d booked the wrong lineup and was scrambling to put together another show right then and there. When finally the stage lights went up again there was a tall skinny guy like me standing at the mic. Train played three whole albums worth of material while I watched. I didn’t mind, I was out of college and hated my job; I had nothing better to do. With Pat’s voice still ringing out in the theater, they performed a no-huddle play and switched to Jason Mraz. I got out a notepad so I could keep on top of the linguistic swordplay.
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If there’s one thing I learned from my former years playing in houses of worship, it’s that the Sunday morning experience is designed for maximum effectiveness. Granted, some churches are more finely tuned than others, but the principles of your average worship service should apply to every single concert you play.

• Start with an engaged crowd. Even if it’s just the first row or two, a well-timed “Hallelujah!” now and again will get the cold crowd to warm up a little.
• Appeal to all five senses. Studies have shown that we remember events better if all of our senses are engaged. The Church, in its various forms throughout the millennia, has evolved to adopt this level of impact.
  1. Sight: Robes, banners, crosses, flowers, statues, you name it. Stained-glass windows and flying buttresses were designed specifically to catch your eye.
  2. Sound: Obviously, a church service involves talking and music. If your shows don’t have either, you’re reading the wrong article.
  3. Touch: At some point in most services there’s a moment to shake the hands of people around you. Perhaps there’s a laying on of hands while a blessing is read. In a world where we’re naturally suspicious of everyone else, a gentle touch from someone with a good message can leave a lasting impression.
  4. Smell: Roman Catholics nailed this one by swinging balls of incense. Mine would hang evergreen boughs in the sanctuary during Christmastime. Maybe your church bakes fresh bread for communion. Maybe it’s just the smell of coffee before and after the service… One way or another, your nose is being spoken to.
  5. Taste: In my religion, this one dates back to the guy that started it. The tradition of a little wine and bread was coupled with a very specific statement: “Do this for the remembrance of me.” Not bad advice.
• Audience Participation! This one deserves its own exclamation point. The reformation introduced many concepts into the Christian church, one of which was the involvement of laypeople in the worship service. People are more likely to pay attention if they’re a part of the experience.
• Speak their language. Again, another gift from the Reformation. If the people speak German, why are the services in Latin? Sure, you can prepare your talking points before a show, but pay attention to your audience and converse with them on a level that they will understand.
• Give them a mission. If you’ve reached someone, they won’t want the experience to end. Give them something they can do after the concert is over- even if it’s as simple as “give this download card to a friend who’s never heard of us”.

I’m not suggesting for one second that you train your fans to worship you… but you can certainly harness the power of thousands of years of effective organization to spread the word about your band.

That’s me, Amanda Palmer, Jeff Pulver, Andy Dixon, and Keith Spiro doing an impromptu version of Sesame Street at the 140 Characters Conference.

Here’s the 1-frame-per-minute video stream (the wifi at the BBEC sucked) of the Music panel with me, Ariel, Ted, and Amanda. Hope you dig it!

Video courtesy of Steve Garfield

This is going to be a hell of a year.

When I announced on August 1 that my next project would be The Lives of Dexter Peterson, all I was thinking about was the story. I suppose that’s a good thing- thinking about the world of the creation rather than the logistics behind it. We didn’t get to the moon by planning on orbit, rendezvous, docking, and long-term health effects, we got there by pointing up into space and saying “let’s go there.”

But now I’m into that part of the project. There’s a reason they say the devil’s in the details. If creativity is heaven, project planning is the fifth level of hell. This is becoming the biggest project I’ve ever undertaken, way more complicated than Goodbye Planet Earth. When all the dust has settled, I need to end up with:

• A full-length story about The Lives of Dexter Peterson
• A music album based on that story
• A graphic novel based on that story
• Either an audiobook or a radio drama rendition of the story

Suddenly I’m not working on one project, I’m working on four. Gen Whitmore is handling the graphic side of things and my friend Calindy is trying to book convention shows so I’m not doing everything myself, but I’m doing pretty much everything else. Those four projects alone are ambitious enough for the one year deadline I’ve set, but there are always more details. Albums don’t sell themselves, even if you’re U2. On top of creating four finished works by next August, I have to manage all the support projects involved:

• Re-design www.matthewebel.com to better represent what I’m trying to do now
• Figure out where I can get a graphic novel printed in short runs
• Promote the project online. Somehow.
• Spread the word about the nature of the project itself
• Book some concerts so I don’t starve to death

If ever there was a time I needed a management team, it’s now. I pulled off the last major album by myself, but I don’t know how I’m going to create all this stuff, promote it properly, and still perform on stage without more help. The DIY mentality has sex appeal, sure, but there are just some projects that take a real team.

Right now we’re a team of 3. Hopefully that will grow soon!

July 23, 1701
My name is Dexter Jared Peterson.

I am twenty-six years old and I live in New York City. In the last seven years I have lived as 201,573 different people.

I watched another man die today, this one a pirate who personally disrupted shipping around Jamaica for the past year. He targeted my company’s tea shipments almost exclusively, though I can’t imagine what offense this cretin would begrudge me. It’s not easy being wealthy.

I received grave news from the expedition I dispatched to what we’ll call “Colombia” in another hundred and fifty years. All but one man has vanished and I fear the last soul that entered that temple may have disappeared shortly after sending the letter.

God, I wish they’d discover coffee already.

The Lives of Dexter Peterson is Matthew Ebel’s upcoming album, book, and graphic novel scheduled for release in 2011. If you want to know more about Dexter and who he is at any given moment, grab an All-Access or higher pass at www.matthewebel.net

Don’t get the wrong impression… it’s not my album. My friend and indie cohort from Nashville with humongous hair has just dropped an awesome new record on the Music City called That’s Gravity. I just bought my copy and it’s picking me up better than a cup of coffee right now. I strongly recommend that you piano-rock fans go get this sucker! If you haven’t heard of Geoff Smith before, you probably haven’t known me that long either. He’s got a more Beatles-esque flavor to his music than I do, so brace yourself for the awesome.

Here are a few places to grab this album (all of them affiliate links, just FYI):

• CD Baby (Round Plastic or MP3)
• iTunes (DRM-Free AAC)
• Amazon (MP3)

And here’s the video for the title track:

Those of you that attended my 2010 Beer Bash know that I’m now working on a new album. Not a collection of songs, an album. If you weren’t there, well, I’m working on a new album!

The Lives of Dexter Peterson

A few years back I wrote a 120-page book for National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo. In thirty days I pounded out over 50,000 words and won the challenge on my first attempt. I was so proud of myself, I didn’t know I could produce anything that big in such a short period of time. The Lives of Dexter Peterson, draft one, had been born.

Then I sat on the manuscript. It’s actually been in a box in my basement since then. I didn’t see it or think about it until we moved from Boston to New Hampshire, but like buried treasure it surfaced during the boxing process. I’d forgotten how much fun I’d had with that story, especially given the ADD nature of the plot. I’ll save the details for later as the editing process heats up, but I will tell you that finding this book inspired me to write again.

I’ll be writing an album’s worth of music to accompany the story. One part companion disc, one part outright soundtrack, we’ll see how this turns out in a year. Oh yeah, and Genesis Whitmore will be making a full-length graphic novel to go with all of this.

How To Pre-Order

Isn’t it a bit early to talk about pre-ordering when I haven’t written a single note or lyric for the album? Not exactly. Again, as my Matthew Ebel dot net subscribers learned at the Beer Bash, any All-Access or higher membership is good for a copy of the album when it’s ready. A real, physical CD. Heck, the VIP’s and higher get the full package- album, printed material, audiobook, everything.

In addition, they’ll be getting updates throughout the project, from Gen’s sketches to my song ideas to behind-the-scenes videos from the studio. It’s going to be a heck of a project, so this is what my entire focus will be for the next year.

If you’re interested in getting on board, just grab a subscription at www.matthewebel.net/subscribe – and watch for my announcement “Introducing Dexter Peterson” soon!

I’m no Ariel Hyatt, but I’ve been told I have some good ideas for using online tools as an indie musician. I mean, heck, I do this for a living. If something I do doesn’t work, I drop it like a bad habit and move on to the next idea. Is this list comprehensive? Hell no. In fact, I’ll probably have better ideas tomorrow. Right now, though, this is the best list I could divine. Here are some patterns I’ve seen over the years:
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For when you absolutely, positively must be killed in a soft-spoken acoustic way.