Eric Peters’s Brilliant Plan, and Episode 4 of the RRPC
The new podcast is now available. Thanks for listening! If you have a moment, be sure and leave a review of the podcast on the iTunes page. I hear that helps them decide which ones are posted on the main page of the iTunes store–and if the RR podcast made it there we’d have have eight million listeners overnight, which would lead to the opening of the physical Rabbit Room here in Nashville, which would lead to our taking over the world. Review away, compatriots. Here are the links:
Click here for the direct link.
Also, you should know that Eric Peters is starting a new record with producer Ben Shive, something about which I’m very excited. Eric has come up with a brilliant plan for raising funds for his album that is right in line with the Rabbit Room philosophy on supporting artists who are shedding light. Here’s the plan, in Eric’s words:
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I wanted to try something a little different this time around by inviting folks to get involved early on in the process, rather than later… I figure now is as good a time as any to get the ball rolling on the experiment, this patronage of the arts, if I may be so bold. Fund raising, on a larger scale like this, is something I have never done, but with a bona fide family of three to support this time through the indie record-making gamut, I have been encouraged to put the call out and to let the people of earth help, invest, and contribute what they may. Here’s my proposal:
The Goal: $15,000
300 people x $50/each
The first 300 people to contribute $50 each will receive:
* advance album 2 weeks prior to release date
* 2 CDs (autographed/personalized if you wish)
* your name (and thanks) in the CD liner notes
* your photo on the website
* 2 free tickets to one of my shows in your town/area
The way I see it, if we reach or even come close to the proposed goal, it will drastically cushion the financial blow, thereby easing the burden on my overall sanity and vocation. The sooner we reach the goal, the sooner I can finish this album and release it. If all goes well, I’m aiming for a late fall release date. Hey, I like fall.
I fully realize there are far greater issues in our world at this moment, not to mention the skyrocketing costs of living, but I truly, truly appreciate your support both present and past, and for holding up my arms (Exodus 17: 8-13) when I am figuratively unable. Thank you, in advance.
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That’s a pretty good deal for $50. I’ve signed up and I hope you will, too. Click here.
Thanks!
The Proprietor
A.S. Peterson has crafted a work of compelling historical fiction which begs the question, “Can this really be a debut novel?” With dogged fidelity, Peterson captures the spirit, manners, and social conditions present during the American Revolutionary War. We meet colorful, credible characters who navigate the high seas of life and love, dependence and independence, war and peace, truth and consequence, and despite forays into dark places, The Fiddler’s Gun is beautiful, lyrical, and redemptive.
Walt Wangerin, Jr. strikes again.
Janner Igiby lives in Glipwood, a nothing little village in the land of Skree, on the edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness. Manhood is on the horizon, but Janner finds it hard to feel much hope for the future. Skree is ruled by foreign oppressors, snake men called the Fangs of Dang, servants of a shadowy emperor named Gnag the Nameless. The Skreeans are weak and weaponless. They’re even tool-less. Any Skreean who needs to use a hoe has to borrow one from the Fangs (and fill out the requisite paperwork). And from time to time, the Black Carriage arrives in Glipwood to carry young Skreeans toward an unknown fate across the Dark Sea.
I am not a fan of Civil War literature; in fact, I have always thought of it as one of those weird sub-genres for obsessive types. They’re almost like Trekkies with their re-enactments and maniacal devotion to detail. It’s just not my thing (although I’m secretly jealous that they get to dress up and shoot cannons).
A Randall Goodgame song is like a great independent movie. Characters deliver lines like they were lifted from a break room, a truck stop, or a downtown diner. Seemingly incongruent scenes are juxtaposed and plot isn’t obvious; in fact, narrative–a good story–is often more evident than linear plot lines. An indie movie, like a Randall Goodgame song, seems to tell itself. Rather than being rudely yanked by a chain through a sequence of contrived events, with a Randall Goodgame song, I have the sense that I’m being allowed a willing, but vicarious sneak peak into the real lives of his real characters.
Sara Groves irritates me just a little bit. With each album she makes, she moves from strength to strength and is always raising the bar with the quality, depth, and lyrical ambition of her work. And as a fellow artist, that’s just a little irritating since it means the rest of us are going to have to work harder if we hope to keep up.
I am outside on my front porch. The yellowed leaves are methodically falling from the black walnut in the yard, my breath is chalky visible in the recent cold snap, and lately I have been exploring the unpleasant nuances of the dark night of a soul - my own, to be exact. It is a strange passion we live out on this over-glorified orb of rock hurtling through space at some rate that I’m sure would astound me were I to know what it was. It is an odd series of days, I am realizing, when you question your own faith more than you question your own doubt. And, indeed, it is these nagging questions which have prompted me to share my thoughts on Andrew Peterson’s 2003 album, Love and Thunder.
11-year old Reuben Land, a character in the 2001 book Peace Like a River, provides narration that is clear-eyed and insightful, yet retains the magic, wonder, and innocence of youth. I found it easy to entrust my imagination to the author’s clever method of telling the story through the sensibilities of a pre-teen boy. An author with lesser skill would have either made the boy too smart-alecky for his own good or impossibly cute.
I just finished a book that upon closing it, I felt like it finished me in a sense. A quiet meditative book that reached down and stirred the deep waters in me. It’s Marilynne Robinson’s 2005 Pulitzer prize winner Gilead, given to me by my friend Andrew Peterson.
Eric Peters’s body of work addresses a diverse range of topics, but hope is a recurring theme that gently percolates in the midst of it all. And yet, somewhere between the 2001 masterpiece Land of the Living, and Scarce, the flavor of hope that Peters’s work emits has evolved closer to a tone that is more resolute than what came before. And though the complexion of hope has a broad range, the lyrics from Scarce–while intermittently contrite and timorous as in previous efforts, are now strengthened and bolstered by roots that have grown deeper, radiating an underlying grit and security.
Having read The Great Divorce many times over the years, I’ve found this classic from the great C.S. Lewis to be full of startling clarity and depth on the differences between Heaven and Hell. The only thing both have in common is that both begin in the human will; we can either let Heaven enter us and rule in us to blossom into love and goodness, or allow Hell to infect and reign in our hearts by the daily refusal to submit to Heaven.
Even if you haven’t heard Room to Breathe, its still likely you’ve heard Andy Gullahorn. He’s what I’d call a heavy lifter by trade. He writes lyrics, plays guitar, arranges vocals and adds production help to the work of artists like Jill Phillips and Andrew Peterson.
Allow me to preface this by telling you that I am a great despiser of gushing reviews. I’d much rather write (or read) a scathing dismemberment of the latest Brett Ratner film or Terry Goodkind book than suffer through four hundred words of overblown hyperbole about even the best of things. But when asked to write some thoughts on Frederick Buechner’s Godric, no amount of distaste for high praise was able to intervene. I hope you’ll take what I say with the understanding that I do not say it readily or lightly.
I’m very excited to hear what comes next from Eric. I’m betting it’ll be fantastic.
Here, here. Huzzah for EP. Wonderful podcast and everyone should get involved to promote this artist. I would love to stop referring to him as under-rated. He should be rated!
EP:
There’s one hole in this plan: the assumption that there will be an EP show “in my town/area”. Have you discovered the Lost Phone Booth of George Carlin, last used by Bill and Ted? If so, you could offer rides in it to super-donors, say, at the $5,000 mark.
Speaking of different levels: not that I want to make your life more difficult, but have you considered a lesser level of sponsorship? Fifty bucks is a lot for folks to cough up right now; maybe you could offer a scaled-back package for a lower entrance fee. Just thinking out loud (without the sound) here…
Either way, congrats on the new album ambition, Eric; I hope to be able to contribute at some level before long.
Eric,
Love this idea. We recently did something along this line with the chairs in our church’s building project. We’ve had a large response with people even in Europe, Asia and Africa contributing!
Not only would I like to be among the first to contribute (even though I doubt you’ll be in upstate NY…perhaps a trip to Nashville is due), I’d like to promote you on my site as well. This is yet another step in the Bride of Christ reclaiming her rightful place as dominant benefactor to the Arts, something She gave up long ago and I am utterly committed to seeing restored. It is these kinds of simple, avant guard ideas that are displacing the overgrown and lethargic business models of the past. Thanks for all you are endeavoring to do.
Blessings my brother.
CH
Peter B:
Originally, I had considered making the patronage a tiered sort of thing, but was advised against it in the interest of keeping things simple and straightforward. I have, however, had folks contribute less (and more) than the $50. If you’re interested, please contact my office conglomerate (i.e., me) at info@ericpeters.net. As Mike Meyers used to say in the SNL skit, “We’ll tawlk.”
The way the government is bailing out the nation’s so-called “credit crisis”, maybe I could just ask Uncle Sam to cough up the $15,000 in one fell swoop — a mere penny in their well, apparently.
Thanks for being interested and for bringing it up.
Eric: thanks, it’s cool; I can hack your donation form if I want to contribute less (or more). I guess I could just use the “send money” feature inherent to Paypal (since I am a member myself), but where’s the fun in that?
BTW, I’ve always picture the Emperor in Return of the Jedi as tagging the Coffee Talk line on the end of his “He will come to you, and you will bring him to me” speech.
I’m going to hold off for a few days to see if any extra wads of cash come my way (my profits are consumer-driven to a certain extent as well); maybe the feds will print up another spare trillion this week and drop some of their soon-to-be-worthless currency on me in an unprecedented apology.
Eric,
Great idea. I hope this helps you get your great music out sooner. As a supporter, I would appreciate guitar tabs or hints!
Thanks,
Tony
If you opened a physical Rabbit Room here in Nashville that would be the coolest thing ever!
Ditto on the Nashville Rabbit Room. Keep us posted on the plans for that idea.
Hubby John was one of the first to sign up. Great idea Eric. I wrote a little vignette about my daughter and some of your tunes. Thought it might make you smile. Check it out on the blog. One of these days I’ll get around to the concert you did for us at Providence. I’ve had too many ideas and not enough time to flesh it out yet.