How did your early exposure to music, such as lip syncing to The New Christy Minstrels and the Carpenters, shape your musical tastes and style?
[Laughs] I have never stopped to ask myself that question! I guess it helped me with stage presence. Lip synching to others music allowed me to focus on what the words felt like in my mouth… was I making the right shapes to get the sounds I was hearing? Was I moving the right way to make watching me interesting?
As far as my tastes, I think it set a love of vocal harmony and singable melodies in me. I am always working with the melody to ensure it is interesting and singable. I think, specifically the Carpenters, influenced my love of vocal harmony—lush vocal harmony. You can hear that through all my compositions. It took what I was learning in choir in school and gave it voice (quite literally). Lush vocal backgrounds are part of what I would consider my signature sound. …all thanks to the Carpenters—well, and Queen and Prince… but you get the idea.
Can you elaborate on how your experience at Coe College influenced your decision to switch from music education to performance?
When I decided what I wanted to be when I grew up, music was the only thing I could think of. I wasn’t in any rock bands in high school but I was the student director for the band for several years. I could only see myself as a band director moving forward.
Then I discovered I really didn’t like kids much.
Also, I was being pulled to perform so often in other people’s groups, I decided maybe a music performance major was more in line with where I should be going.
I still ended up instructing high school drum lines at Cedar Rapids Jefferson and at Bloomington Kennedy High Schools, so I fulfilled my original intent in that way.
How did discovering and perfecting the marimba impact your development as a musician?
The marimba was a way to combine my knowledge of the piano with percussion. I was mesmerized by the warm, rich tones coming off those rosewood bars. But holding two mallets in each hand and making them go where you wanted was not as easy as you might think.
Learning the marimba taught me how to practice. I had “practiced” piano and drums growing up, but not with any real knowledge of how to get better. I just kept going and that was that. But to get the marimba into my hands, I needed to practice longer and with more attention to detail. That changed my approach to music and instruments.
What role did your distinctive appearance, like the purple mohawk during your junior percussion recital, play in your musical identity and career?
It’s always about the show, right? Not only did I love the idea of being somewhat counterculture, but as a classical musician, meshing cultures like punk and the “establishment” was kind of the point of the ‘80’s. For me, it was about self-expression. I loved the look of purple hair on me. I loved the mohawk so much, remnants of it stick with my hair styles even to this day. I sported a faux hawk in the early 2010’s and even today my sides are cut way shorter than the top of my hair, which is a nod back to the mohawk.
It really hasn’t had an effect on my music career, but in has in my day job. I still put color in my hair from time to time (it is beneficial that I married a hairdresser). In my song, “Superhuman (feat. Dr. Fink), one of the verses states “Don’t like my hair? (I hate your hair) Quit your bitchin’ (I can’t take him to a meeting with purple hair)”. The background was based upon an actual conversation one of my previous employers had about why they were not promoting me. I believe the actual context was more like, “Can you imagine him walking into a meeting in New York with purple hair?”.
I have always had a rebellious streak, and I think that comes out in my music. It’s conventional, but with a twist. But it is my music done my way. No one is funding what I create, so I am not bound to anyone’s expectations. I think that is a direct result of the punk influence of the 1980’s. You don’t like my hair, my music, my style? “Quit your bitchin’”.
How did your personal journey and discovery of your sexuality influence your music and artistic expression?
It wasn’t easy. This is back in the 1980’s when AIDS was first hitting the news. …and I couldn’t be gay. It was NOT on my menu of how life was supposed to unfold for a boy from suburban Minnesota.
It all happened rather accidentally. It was during my college years. I was having drinks with friends in a Cedar Rapids bar and one of my friends and I were talking about speaking different languages. He was from Venezuela and spoke English, Spanish and French. I took a little Spanish and French in High School but, at the time, could only remember the line from Lady Marmalade (a few beers in, mind you), “Voulez-Vous coucher avec moi, ce soir”.
I am unclear of his response verbally, but he took me literally and a little while later we were under the raised porch of an old haunted house and I was having whole new experiences.
After, when we were back in the dorm, I spent quite a while telling him how we were going to hell and this could never happen again… I don’t think he was listening, because he wrote me a 4-page note about how much he loved the experience and his feelings for me.
…and a week later, to spite my assertions that this was not who I really was, we were in bed again! Thus began the 5-year rollercoaster ride of figuring out who and how I loved.
But here’s the thing: You have to be authentic to yourself to be authentic in your art. Trust me, it was very much a surprise to me when I found myself kissing Frank that first time. That was NOT how my life was supposed to go. But as I tussled with my queerness, I discovered a sub-culture I never knew existed.
It exposed me to new genres of music. It allowed me, in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, in the mid 1980’s to be exposed to new dance music that they only played at the gay clubs. It taught me to be who I was, boldly, and that lesson still rings as true today.
Looking back now, I understand this was part of the Universe sculpting the statue that would become Paul David. …chipping away the parts—the marble of the statue—that wasn’t Paul David to reveal and shape what was to BECOME Paul David. It sucked at the time, but I understand now all these experiences needed to happen.
I identify as an openly queer artist, and as an artist, it for sure is part of who I am. I have written (and released) a couple of songs that are specifically gay themed—Emergence, The Lie, Sunshine (after the Rain)—but most of my music is just that—music. Being gay is part of me and informs my aesthetic to a degree, but it is only a part of who I am.
Could you describe the process and inspiration behind your tone poem « Emergence » for the Minnesota Philharmonic Orchestra?
I occasionally subbed in the percussion section with the Minnesota Philharmonic Orchestra, and at one concert, a former conductor of theirs had written this symphony that included a drum set (which I was asked to play). After that concert I approached the director and asked if I too could write something for the orchestra. He said yes.
This was to be my first large orchestral work; previously I had just written and arranged for church orchestras and praise bands. This was a whole new animal. I do love pushing myself and growing, so I was up for the challenge.
Since the MN Phil was the nations’ first LGBTQ orchestra, I wanted to honor and acknowledge that, so I settled on writing a tone poem inspired and informed by the coming out process.
Being a fan of deeper meaning, I began by constructing the main theme around coming out by the bassoon melody (Bb, Eb, Ab, F, Ab, Gb, and C… or “Be a fag, see”). I then pulled hints of the disco classic “I’m Coming Out” as an arrival point.
Orchestration-wise, I had a whole new pallet to play with. I had never written for harp, but the orchestra used one lady regularly, and I do love the sound of a harp, so that is in there. Then, as a percussionist, how could I NOT have a large percussive presence in the piece? I mean, who could blame me?
Finally, I was always a fan of large low brass chords. I took the idea of mixing low brass and percussion over a “love theme” …the bell tone trombones over a vibraphone/bell mix is pretty cool.
You can listen to that song on my reverbnation site (https://www.reverbnation.com/pauldavid/song/2153190-emergence) if you want to see how it all came out. I am always looking for new orchestras to perform it, of course.
How did your work at the Metropolitan Community Church in Minneapolis shape your approach to music ministry and composition?
MCC was my playground, musically. I got to hone my skills at writing and arranging for small orchestras and praise bands. I was able to take what I knew about music and teach others. When I first got to All God’s Children MCC, they were very traditional, musically speaking. Here was this “gay church” trying to be some version of a Baptist church with Catholic leanings, but still singing the hymns their grandparents sang back in the day. Now, nothing wrong with old hymns, they have their place for sure… but here is this queer community—on the cutting edge of theology—not connecting musically with the younger generation. …and it’s not exactly as if many people were being born into the MCC faith.
With a very talented group of people, we crafted a contemporary approach to music and ministry. I would love to tell you it was a super easy, well received change, but I would be lying. The beauty and the challenge of an MCC church in the early 1990’s was everyone was affirmed and welcomed. The challenge of an MCC church in the early 1990’s was everyone was affirmed and welcomed! This really meant everyone was very vocal about how THEY wanted to do church.
I learned a lot about faith journeys that were very foreign to this Presbyterian boy from the suburbs. But trying to understand how each person saw the Divine and what moved each person helped me understand a lot about the call of ministry. Creating moments for each person, in their own way, to find a connection with Source Energy in ways that spoke to their hearts was a powerful lesson in ministry for me.
With all the ups and downs, I am proud to say, AGCMCC is still firmly walking the path my team and I set back in the 1990’s. In fact, they still use some of my arrangements and music to this day.
What unique challenges and opportunities did you face while integrating non-traditional sounds, like dog barks and found audio, into your music?
You have to think outside the box. Capturing unique sounds is a matter of being aware it’s a cool sound and understanding you may have a use for it later. Think of it like a spice rack in your kitchen. How many of you use every spice you have or know exactly what you should add to what? The only way to truly find out about something you don’t know is to use it.
The opportunities are two sided—it can be an incredible success or a horrific failure. The only way to know is to try it and see if you like the outcome.
When I first heard the voicemail from the angry customer I use in “Karen Wants a Reservation”, I knew I had gold. I wasn’t sure exactly how I was going to use it, but I knew the seeds of something really fun were in that voicemail.
The big key is being present enough to capture the sounds knowing you will potentially use them later. You don’t need to know exactly what you are going to do with them at the moment but capture the sound. You’ll figure it out later.
A LOT of my music has found sounds in it: “Karen Wants a Reservation”, “Sunshine (after the Rain”, “We Can B Free”, even more in “We Can B Free F.U.C.K. Dance Mix”, Perpetual Motion of Water”… I tend to save interesting things and see where I can use them. I build a library of found sounds, voicemails, interesting things… and if I need something to take my music to another level, I often will go to that library to see what might work in a song.
I guess I can thank Prince for that… in Raspberry Beret, he starts out coughing. I remember reading an interview where someone asked him why and he stated that no one had done that before. I like that idea. I want to take things no one has done or heard of before and add them to my works to elevate the creations.
How did your time spent in pit orchestras and your ability as a great sight-reader enhance your versatility as a musician?
Musicals are not my thing—I am just going to say that flat out. I enjoy a few of them, but I am not a Broadway Queen. That being said and having played in over 50 different productions (I really stopped counting), I know that musicals taught me about different styles of music as well as how to play in a band. I learned the difference between the map and the experience. Let me unpack that a little.
The notes on the page are like looking at a road map. They show you the path, but, like a map, they don’t tell you exactly how to drive. Oh, there are ideas—articulations, dynamics—those are like the signs along the road as you go… but your artistry tells you exactly how loud that forte is or, as an ensemble, how much you slow down at the ritard in the music.
So playing in show ensembles helped me understand thinking like a band. Getting out of my body into the “higher mind” of the ensemble. If you play in a band, you know exactly what I am talking about.
That helped me learn to listen and adapt. Live shows ALWAYS have little surprises… like the time the music director was cursing out the sax section under her breath and the cue for the orchestra to play was passing and I kicked the orchestra off from the drum kit. When she was done glaring at me, she said, “I suppose I should thank you.” Yes, Anita, you should.
Can you share more about the inspiration and creative process behind your song “Perpetual Motion of Water” and how Laguna Beach inspired its creation?
“Perpetual Motion of Water” is a minimalist inspired new age piece was written on my B Celtic Double Ding RAV Vast handpan. The RAV Vast is a steel tongue drum with a huge overtone series that hangs around the drum creating a haunting, relaxing vibe that is perfect for meditation, yoga or just shaking off the crap of the day.
I augmented the minimalist groove that the serves as the foundation of the piece with shaker, udu, handmade sacred drum, rain stick and various electronic elements to create a very cool sound pallet. If you listen in headphones, about one minute in I sonically submerge you underwater by placing you right over the drum. I wanted the listener to hear what I hear when I play it. You can find that on all your favorite streaming platforms or right on my website bit.ly/PMoW (case sensitive).
When my husband and I were in Laguna Beach earlier this spring, I captured a really cool sounding bird call while we were visiting the beach. As I was finishing up the piece, I needed a live track to play with, but the song starts out with reversed groove sounds and the live musician (me) will have to sync up to empty space until the shaker comes in about 20 plus seconds into the piece—which is a lifetime in front of an audience with no safety net (groove) to lock in with. So, I created some sonic touch points in the live mix including the bird from Laguna. I liked the bird so much; I kept it in place for the final mix of the song.
I should also mention, the cover art is from Laguna Beach as well—my husband took a photo of me with this sculpture of a dolphin at the Wyland Galleries where, when the sun hits it, it comes alive with electricity inside. My graphic designer friend, Holly Gantman, cropped it and made the cover art for me.
Where can our readers find additional information about you and your work?
The best place to connect with me and keep track of new music coming out is on my website, https://PaulDavidMusic.net
I am on all socials (linked in my website) and streaming on all platforms.
Thank you so much for the opportunity to sit and chat about my new song. Now everyone, go listen to it and buy it! Trust me, you will love some of it… and some of it, well… you be the judge.
All I know is has been raining all month here in Minnesota, like every other day, and someone purchased a copy of “Perpetual Motion of Water” last night and the rain stopped. Correlation? Who am I to say…