Newsletters and updates
I suppose it was inevitable that email would eventually become fodder for nostalgia. I was certainly around for the death of the letter - and I went to the wake. The letter was never particularly well suited for promotion of artistic projects though. For those of you who never received or sent one, independent musicians used to print postcards with a list of gigs and mail them. Imagine that. We used to get people's addresses, print them on labels, make postcards at printers, stick stamps on them and drop them in the mail. My worst addictions, still with me, were launched on those long nights putting promotional mailings together.
Once or twice I even received a phone call from an over-ambitious singer songwriter. "Hi, is this Ry? This is Joe Songslinger. How's it going?" Eventually he would get around to telling me about a show he was playing. I detest the telephone and avoided this brief technique.
Electronic mail was a blessing for those of us in need of announcing our performances and products. Combined with a website, we developed a pretty clean and relatively annoyance-free way of getting our messages out.
I love email. Once we got our junk mail under control, we were in possession of the most democratic product the Internet has had to offer. No single corporation has control of its content. One can be formal if one likes, even long winded. Upon receiving email, one can see, like the top left of the envelope, the return address and decide whether or not, or even when to open it.
I tried to love social media. I really did. And I will keep them all in the loop of what's going on, but I am far too lazy to update my statuses constantly unless I am on the road. And I am not lazy enough to get an honest workout from those short word counts.
In the days when I wrote long, unconventional, often snarky email newsletters, readers would write back. They were occasionally offended to the chagrin of my band mates. But more frequently, they were entertained, even delighted. I have even had people come up to me in person and discuss the thoughts shared. Nostalgia. Yep, it was inevitable.
Session Americana is at Green River Festival this weekend in what is sure to be a spectacle of an evening show. We are up against the Guthrie diaspora. We are calling in our own folk army and trying to hold our tent.
Jim is on the road with Chris Smither this weekend, which is probably worth a jaunt. I'm not sure Chris remembers how to wield a band, but Jim is unwieldy, so it should be good chemistry.
Also, please consider supporting our friends from Malin, Donegal, the Henry Girls. We did some shows with them over there on their turf which were great, though perhaps not as great as the sessions that followed the shows. They are here in the northeast for 4 nights in August. I (Ry) will join them for all the shows. We are working on a Session Americana throw down, which is still vaguely planned. The a actual shows are: 8/23 Barbes, Brooklyn. 8/24, Pushkin, Greenfield, Ma. 8/25, Club Passim, Cambridge. 8/26, Stone Mountain Arts Center, Brownfield, ME.
Once or twice I even received a phone call from an over-ambitious singer songwriter. "Hi, is this Ry? This is Joe Songslinger. How's it going?" Eventually he would get around to telling me about a show he was playing. I detest the telephone and avoided this brief technique.
Electronic mail was a blessing for those of us in need of announcing our performances and products. Combined with a website, we developed a pretty clean and relatively annoyance-free way of getting our messages out.
I love email. Once we got our junk mail under control, we were in possession of the most democratic product the Internet has had to offer. No single corporation has control of its content. One can be formal if one likes, even long winded. Upon receiving email, one can see, like the top left of the envelope, the return address and decide whether or not, or even when to open it.
I tried to love social media. I really did. And I will keep them all in the loop of what's going on, but I am far too lazy to update my statuses constantly unless I am on the road. And I am not lazy enough to get an honest workout from those short word counts.
In the days when I wrote long, unconventional, often snarky email newsletters, readers would write back. They were occasionally offended to the chagrin of my band mates. But more frequently, they were entertained, even delighted. I have even had people come up to me in person and discuss the thoughts shared. Nostalgia. Yep, it was inevitable.
Session Americana is at Green River Festival this weekend in what is sure to be a spectacle of an evening show. We are up against the Guthrie diaspora. We are calling in our own folk army and trying to hold our tent.
Jim is on the road with Chris Smither this weekend, which is probably worth a jaunt. I'm not sure Chris remembers how to wield a band, but Jim is unwieldy, so it should be good chemistry.
Also, please consider supporting our friends from Malin, Donegal, the Henry Girls. We did some shows with them over there on their turf which were great, though perhaps not as great as the sessions that followed the shows. They are here in the northeast for 4 nights in August. I (Ry) will join them for all the shows. We are working on a Session Americana throw down, which is still vaguely planned. The a actual shows are: 8/23 Barbes, Brooklyn. 8/24, Pushkin, Greenfield, Ma. 8/25, Club Passim, Cambridge. 8/26, Stone Mountain Arts Center, Brownfield, ME.
