Title: Big Drop
Release date: 3 June, 2008
Record label: Mercury Records
Single:
Official website: George Stanford
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Multi-instrumental, singer-songwriter George Stanford is ready to make his full-length debut on June 3rd with Big Drop (Mercury Records)- an eleven-song pop-rock collection that harkens back to an era when musicianship and storytelling ranked supreme. While not on the road supporting such acts as Babyface, Sara Bareilles and Martin Sexton or playing events ranging from Sundance to the Green Apple Festival, Stanford made time to record a video for his first single “My Own Worst Enemy.”
The reaction to Stanford’s live show and his EP- currently available on iTunes- has been strong with Billboard calling it “a promising debut from a serious talent.” The Boston Herald caught him in concert noting, “upstart Philly songwriter George Stanford impressed the early crowd with surprisingly funky and even occasionally inventive arrangements. The multi-instrumentalist and singer mixed hip-hop beats with blue-eyed soul and classic pop structures in his short but adventurous set.”
George made his national television debut on Last Call with Carson Daly on April 22nd. Daly became an instant fan after seeing a live set at this year’s SXSW proclaiming “he’s gonna be big.”
April also found George performing on the popular NPR show “World Café.” Joined by his backing band- bass and drums- he performed three songs. WXPN was one of the first to back him stating “’My Own Worst Enemy’ is the first great pop song of 2008.” You will also be able to catch George on an upcoming edition of the syndicated radio program Mountain Stage beginning May 30th and throughout the following week.
Stanford’s first taste of music came at age 9 when he picked up the trombone- appropriate since Big Drop opens with it. The bug kicked in, and he was soon picking up any instrument around- the piano, bass, guitar. After getting kicked out of the University of the Arts in Philadelphia where he was perusing a degree in jazz performance and years on the road touring with the band Townhall, Stanford found himself living above the laundromat where he worked. Isolated from the rest of the world, he began writing songs that would eventually become Big Drop.
Catch George Stanford live in the following cities:
tour dates
May
13- Norfolk, VA- The Norva Theatre
30- Ridgefield, CT- Ridgefield Playhouse *
31- Portsmouth, NH- Portsmouth Music Hall *
June
02- New York, NY- Mercury Lounge **
03- Burlington, VT- Higher Ground Showcase Lounge**
04- Boston, MA- Café 939 @ Berklee College **
05- Newmarket, NH- The Stone Church**
07- Philadelphia, PA- FYE In-Store (Broad & Chestnut)
09- Arlington, VA- Iota Club & Café**
10- Hoboken, NJ- Maxwell’s
* w/ Martin Sexton
** w/ Carney
biography
The house was full of music. Dad, a video producer, and Mom, a painter, were both serious fans and kept the stereo pumping with a mix of early rock, r&b, country, bluegrass, zydeco, jazz and reggae.
“I remember listening to the Everly Brothers when I was really young,” says George Stanford. “Buddy Holly. Elvis. Their songs had that essential element of heartbreak that I still love and try to emulate.”
So when the time came to learn an instrument...
“That was in the fourth grade. I was 8 or 9 and we could choose the instrument we wanted to play. I picked the trombone.”
Uh, Buddy Holly didn’t play the trombone.
“No, Buddy Holly didn’t play the trombone at all,” Stanford admits. “I think I just liked the appearance of it. It looked like a big fun toy, like a huge fly whistle, like it would be a blast to play. And beyond that, the sound captured me. I’m drawn to sounds that have the dark and rich timbre a trombone has.”
Dark and rich timbre--it could have been a good title for Stanford’s debut album, Big Drop, an eleven-song collection of classic pop rock: “classic” because Stanford can evoke a mood with the dexterity of his Hall of Fame influence list; “pop” because he dresses up his songs with imaginative-but-fitting arrangements that employ a variety of instruments playing the optimum (not too many, not too few) number of notes that all march in the service of the aforementioned moods; and “rock” because it rocks. Think Paul McCartney circa “Penny Lane.” Think Hank Williams’ story lines salted down with the occasional dash of Randy Newman irony.
Think what we’d be missing if he had stayed with the trombone.
“Well, I still play it frequently,” he says. “I record with it. I perform with it. I find the trombone very therapeutic. It’s getting back to the purity and fun of what originally gave me the music bug. I still love horns, all that 70s Miles Davis stuff.”
A native of Philadelphia, Stanford kept his music bug growing by picking up the bass at age 11. “I wanted to be able to sing while playing something, but the guitar seemed like too much of an undertaking at the time. I also wanted to learn more about how to make a song move, about structure and the nuts and bolts of chord progressions. I had a knack for singing and playing the bass, but it still takes a lot of practice to have natural phrasing and be rock solid on the bass line. I have such respect for guys like Paul McCartney and Sting, who can lead the band and be the rock in the band at the same time.”
Graduating from high school in 1999, Stanford enrolled at University of the Arts in Philadelphia with the intent of getting a degree in jazz performance. He lasted a year and a half until one day the teacher in his ensemble class started berating one of the student musicians. “I had had enough of hearing him and said this isn’t right. He felt really threatened that I spoke up in front of the whole class. Well, he felt threatened that I told him to shut up. He complained to the dean, who already had it out for me because I was hanging with a group of undesirables who liked to stay up late and play their guitars loud. I had already been drawn under by the demons of rock & roll at that point, and I just wasn’t into the jazz snob thing--all these guys who would talk shit about the Beatles and then go out to play their weekend gigs in wedding and bar mitzvah bands. So I got kicked out by mutual agreement with the dean.”
Stanford switched from classrooms to clubs to continue his education in performance, playing regularly with his band Townhall around Philadelphia and irregularly up and down the East Coast. After a couple of years in the van, the romance of the road wore off and some of his band members weren’t seeing the new direction his song writing was taking, so they parted on friendly terms. Stanford holed up in his apartment above a laundromat where he also worked (“I was the fluff and fold guy”). Discovering the joy of the computer and Pro Tools, he wrote songs as the driers rumbled below.
Even when isolating to write, Stanford continued networking with various friends who were laboring in and around the music business. Dave Tozer, a producer who used to work in the same restaurant with Stanford, got an audience with Evan Lipschutz at Epic and on a whim played a tape song called “Heartbeat.” “It’s just a very simple sentiment and melody,” says Stanford. “We just threw a mic up in a room one night and recorded it. A couple weeks later, Dave called me and said, ‘Evan wants to talk to you! He loves your voice!’ You can imagine, this was the most exciting phone call I ever got.”
Stanford played a few more songs for Lipschutz’s boss David Massey live in his office, and after a half hour conversation, they agreed to make a recording deal. When Massey left Epic to be president of the newly revived Mercury, he was able to take Stanford with him.
Spending much of his advance upgrading his own recording equipment (“I bought a really good microphone”), Stanford did most of the album in his own little bungalow in Los Angeles with the aid of his computer, old friend Dave Tozer, and producers John Alagia and Brian Malouf. Eric Ivan Rosse did additional production work and joined Stanford for the mixing.
First cut on the album is “My Own Worst Enemy,” a song of yearning powered by monster hooks written when Stanford was living over the laundromat. If it isn’t a humongous hit, future historians will mark its release as proof that the music business has gone from partially dysfunctional to completely hopeless. “I was flat broke when I wrote it, and my prospects were bleak. It’s just me having the realization that music is the only thing that gives me pure joy, and I’m gonna do it, no matter what path it takes me down.”
The good stuff doesn’t end with the obvious hit, either. “Lets Stay Here” casts a jaded eye on entertainment culture with a tasteful dollop of snark. “I was actually in Costa Rica when I wrote that, not LA. I was in a great state of mind, playing that little guitar riff, and then I went back to Philadelphia where it’s cloudy and gray in February and the song took a turn to the dark side.”
And “Song for the Untrue”?
“I wrote for a friend of mine who was heartbroken after his long time girlfriend cheated on him. It’s from his point of view, having the moment of clarity that he’s burying her memory and getting on with his life.”
How about “Nikole”?
“Nikole is my woman, but it didn’t start out being about her. Her name just fit the song. I’ve never had those kinds of tribulations with the real Nikole, fortunately. Her brain works in all the ways that mine doesn’t, like she can count to ten. She’s a tough cookie, and she’s helping me make the right decisions with the right business people. It’s really strange going from the laundromat to having A&R people, a manager, a booking agent, a lawyer, a publicist. I find myself wondering, ‘How did this happen?’ But I feel my music has a chance to reach people now.”
Yup. And he’s currently reaching people on the road, opening for such diverse acts as Babyface and Big Head Todd and the Monsters. He’s got a drummer and a bassist, and he’s playing guitar, bass, keyboards and--just for the fun of it--the trombone.
“Someday I do envision touring with 20-piece band that has a big horn section," says Stanford. “I love playing in jazz bands where everyone has a small but crucial groove element. For now, though, it's just me and a rhythm section. It forces me to choose the most essential aspects of each song to present, so I'm learning. And I'm performing. That's the whole point: the fire that lights up a stage with live performance. So far, I can say the crowds are really receptive.”
-by Charles M. Young
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