Wow. 37 posts about little old Kaz. If he's guilty of anything it's probably simply playing too many shows. As evidenced by all the people above saying "I liked him the first time I saw him, but then..."
And maybe he was guilty of being just a little too unique. Being alone in your uniqueness is dangerously close to being mistaken for kitschy, or a gimmick. Or accused of being a fake.
Bookers and reviewers loved him 'cause in a land where a 1000 wannabes pop up after any new 'seattle sound' catches on, with stellar sound-a-like demos to pass around, and either dorky glasses and perfect Death Cab tones, or just the right beards and a pedal steel (probably including myself in that last slam), he was his own singlular genre. People paid attention, whether they liked it or not. THAT put him in a class by himself in Seattle.
I know for a fact that he's not a gimmick though. I had the pleasure of recording him at my studio, and he whipped out 6 songs in three hours (and half of that time was mostly setting up mics, and getting tones), and we recorded all of them in 1 take, with one song that took a 2nd take, all singing and playing his classical acoustic at the same time, on 3 mics.
After he left that day I was laughing to myself, not at anything kitschy about him, but because it was beyond my comprehension-- I could barely believe what I'd just witnessed. It was amazing.
Part of his novelty knock I think comes from the fact that his recordings have a very lo-fi, "home recorded" quality, which I thought was disappointing too-- which is exactly why I offered to record him myself. (You can hear a beautiful, never released version of "My Bird Is Dead" we recorded at www.myspace.com/theplayroomseattle )
I consider myself fortunate for that studio experience. Fortunate to have that solo, one-on-one time with him, as it's quite different from his stage persona-- more reserved, gentle, and calm.
I wouldn't consider him a friend, really, as we've never spent any time together outside of that day in the studio, but he's definitely someone I respect professionally.
There are always folks who simply won't like your music, that's part of the chance you take by getting out there and sharing with the world, part of what leads to the neurosis of so many musicians, people who are totally dependent on the approval of others, yet totally at the mercy of that approval. Music critics and showgoers have way more power over musicians than they'll ever fully know.
I can't remember who the quote is from, but it was a famous author, and when a fan told him "I wish I could write like you," he replied "You're lucky, 'cause you don't have to..."
I for one miss Kaz. Nobody writes like him. (Although the Daniel Johnston comparison isn't far off... and they've taken a liking to each other, I hear...)
Reviews
facts about rob said on July 3, 2008:
Wow. 37 posts about little old Kaz. If he's guilty of anything it's probably simply playing too many shows. As evidenced by all the people above saying "I liked him the first time I saw him, but then..."
And maybe he was guilty of being just a little too unique. Being alone in your uniqueness is dangerously close to being mistaken for kitschy, or a gimmick. Or accused of being a fake.
Bookers and reviewers loved him 'cause in a land where a 1000 wannabes pop up after any new 'seattle sound' catches on, with stellar sound-a-like demos to pass around, and either dorky glasses and perfect Death Cab tones, or just the right beards and a pedal steel (probably including myself in that last slam), he was his own singlular genre. People paid attention, whether they liked it or not. THAT put him in a class by himself in Seattle.
I know for a fact that he's not a gimmick though. I had the pleasure of recording him at my studio, and he whipped out 6 songs in three hours (and half of that time was mostly setting up mics, and getting tones), and we recorded all of them in 1 take, with one song that took a 2nd take, all singing and playing his classical acoustic at the same time, on 3 mics.
After he left that day I was laughing to myself, not at anything kitschy about him, but because it was beyond my comprehension-- I could barely believe what I'd just witnessed. It was amazing.
Part of his novelty knock I think comes from the fact that his recordings have a very lo-fi, "home recorded" quality, which I thought was disappointing too-- which is exactly why I offered to record him myself. (You can hear a beautiful, never released version of "My Bird Is Dead" we recorded at www.myspace.com/theplayroomseattle )
I consider myself fortunate for that studio experience. Fortunate to have that solo, one-on-one time with him, as it's quite different from his stage persona-- more reserved, gentle, and calm.
I wouldn't consider him a friend, really, as we've never spent any time together outside of that day in the studio, but he's definitely someone I respect professionally.
There are always folks who simply won't like your music, that's part of the chance you take by getting out there and sharing with the world, part of what leads to the neurosis of so many musicians, people who are totally dependent on the approval of others, yet totally at the mercy of that approval. Music critics and showgoers have way more power over musicians than they'll ever fully know.
I can't remember who the quote is from, but it was a famous author, and when a fan told him "I wish I could write like you," he replied "You're lucky, 'cause you don't have to..."
I for one miss Kaz. Nobody writes like him. (Although the Daniel Johnston comparison isn't far off... and they've taken a liking to each other, I hear...)