SD Magazine Publisher Releases Album

NEW MUSIC from Skinny Devil Magazine publisher David M. McLean (creator of Skinny Devil Music Lab). A short 3-song EP of old flok & blues pieces titled "Public Domain".

Available at BandCamp: PUBLIC DOMAIN

A collection of David's work at Reverbnation.

Following several shows performing this material, he will begin recording a 5-song EP of new original material.

GUITAR GODS: Alan Robinson

I first heard Alan play several years back when we were performing guests at a high school for a music clinic. Hearing Alan play, and then hearing him tell some of his story & answer questions from the students, was...well, it was a very special morning.

Alan clearly possesses immeasurable kowledge and skill, and just as clearly has immeasurable fun while playing! This is evidenced on his recordings as well as when you see him on stage (both of which I highly recommend).

Alan was a Sergeant Major (now retired) with the US Army and played in the 202nd Army Band as Principle Guitarist. He was also, in a break from his military career (after securing a Bachelor of Music from the famed Berklee School of Music in Boston, MA and a Masters of Music from EKU) an Assistant Professor of Music/ Director of Contemporary Music and Jazz Studies at Pikeville College and Director of Bands (South Floyd High School). He also attended the US Army School of Music. Now, post-military, he is returning to school (this time at University of KY, fall 2017) starting work for his Doctorate of Music.

Pentatonic Chord Voicings

Pentatonic Chord Voicings

Alan Robinson

Hey everyone! It's time for a new lesson in chord voicing. For this lesson we are going to stay with the focus on pentatonic scales, but rather than seeing them as an actual scale we are going to create chords. Just like major and minor scales yield chords by stacking diatonic 3rds this process will be similar. Traditional harmony uses the following intervals to create triads: M3rd+m3d= Maj triad, m3rd+M3rd = min triad. There are three different formulas for pentatonic chords using the following intervals: M2+P5, m3rd+P5, m3rd+m6th. Note as a stand alone that I didn't identify these "chord formulas" as major or minor. The reason for this is that they are all related to a shared root and actually derived from the pentatonic shape more than the intervals that are yielded. Hopefully, this will make more sense as we move forward.

Let's work with Box #1 of the pentatonic scale. We will use E minor pentatonic for all examples.

Ex.1

THIS DAY IN MUSIC...was a big one!

Some days have a lot of interesting, if un-shocking, events in history. But THIS day in music history was HUGE.

1959 - Brian Setzer and Babyface are both born.

1970 - Paul McCartney announces he is quitting the Beatles, and even though John Lennon had left the band first, he had made no public announcement. This is the day officially cited as the "End of the Beatles".

1976 - "Frampton Comes Alive!" goes to number ONE on the charts, where it stayed for TEN weeks, and became one of the most respected and top-selling live albums in history.

1982 - Iron Maiden's album "Number of the Beast" (the first to feature their then-new singer, Bruce Dickenson) goes to number ONE, and sets the stage for them to become one of the most successful metal acts of all time.

1985 - Madonna launches "The Virgin Tour" and becomes an international superstar after only 2 albums, and goes on to become one of the top-selling female artists ever.

1994 - Kurt Cobain's public memorial is held..and fans say goodbye for the last time.

2005 - The final episode of Ozzy Osbourne's show "The Osbournes" airs.

Poetry Series: My Love Poem And Yours

~My Love Poem And Yours~

Liz Fink Davenport

This is not a love poem,

for a man.

This is a love poem...for me.
And you, sweet girl. Bird. Wild bird. Beautiful broken open heart.

I once spent my waterfall of words on loves that took it and drank it and then turned the shot glass upside down and left the bar. A promise at a taxi. No call. Not in 3 days. Not at all. My milk drunk from the gallon in front of the fridge and put back empty. Fingerprints smudged on my mirrors. Smell of stale cologne in my car. My sheets left untucked. Toothpaste stains in the sink. Key left with the crumbs on the counter. Cigarettes pressed in the ashtray. Ghosts. Shadows.

This is a love poem to my own damn heart. To MY hands. Strong. That have felt slip other fingers through. But still grip. My ribs that opened. And closed. To release and take back in. Over and over. My arms that ached with weight. But still held strong. My mind that searched the whole of desert and dark city and wide wide blue world for him. Still searching. My lips that held tight the last imprint of his. So tight they formed a drawn line. And in that line they stopped breath. They just refused to open again. To not lose that kiss. Breath again!

This is yours. This is your poem too. My darling girl. You are phenomenal. I love you with all the amount of air in this room. And the whole of the earth. I love you with my most treasured gift placed in your keeping. Maybe my grandmother's quilt or a rock I collected when I was 7 that looks like an arrow. I love you in the deep and in the shallows. I love you to the reaches of the sunrise that touch your brow and the closing of the sunset across your lap. I love you with choices. All the choices. Everyday, I choose you. I love you because your laugh is a bicycle bell. I love you because you vibrantly and constantly bewitch me. I love you in your best moments and I love you most at your worst. I love that you fail. Sometimes horribly. And falter. Because that makes you loveABLE. ReachABLE. They are not worthy otherwise. I love your feathery eyelashes that remind me of each tiny thing that brushes your cheek, is blessed to be able to be there. The stars in the black are jealous of those lashes. God, that you had any idea how magnificent you are!

And me. Listen here, me. You are loved too. By me. I'm going to tell me a secret...so I better listen close...I loved me from the moment I was me. You are all I could hope for. You are magic. You are my girl. I think you have done a fan-damn-tastic job of being me. You keep picking yourself up and kissing your own bruised knees and heart and you keep loving. Even when I tell you to stop. You do it again. Boldly. You make me so proud. You are the one I choose. I choose my own heart.

So this isn't a love poem for a man. This is a love poem for me. And you. These are the words I will read and reread to myself in the middle of the night. And sometimes, in the middle of the day. Tuck them in your coat pocket. Bring them out crumpled. Tell yourself you are adored. Treasured.

Because

everyone deserves a love poem.
And this is mine.
And yours.
And the shadows can write their own.