Pittsburgh Post-Gazette names
The Road to Ubatuba as one of the “notable” local
releases of 2006.
Available online at Amazon,
CD Baby
and iTunes. And in
stores at Acoustic Music
Works in Squirrel
Hill, Joseph-Beth Booksellers in South Side, Paul’s Compact Discs in Bloomfield, and Borders Eastside,
Monroeville,
North Hills,
South Hills and The Mills.
Travel to the song links for Peter’s comments and lyrics + 30-second soundbites, too.

Travel to the song links for Peter’s comments and lyrics +
30-second soundbites, too.
Peter’s songs published by Chewed Pencil Music Inc.
(ASCAP).
Where does The Road to Ubatuba take
you?
In the case of Peter King’s new CD, it leads to a sizzling,
surprising amalgam of folk, jazz and blues. Ten original songs
offer melodic invention and lyrical insight, spanning a map of the
world (Brazil in the title cut, “The Capital of Idaho”
and “Women Overseas”) and a map of the heart. The disc
also offers fresh arrangements of Robert Johnson’s
“Walkin’ Blues,” Gordon Lightfoot’s
“Early Morning Rain” and the traditional
“Corrina, Corrina.”
Guitarist/vocalist King, whom In Pittsburgh Newsweekly called a
“musical master,” receives inspired assistance from
some of Pittsburgh’s finest, including ex-Rusted Root
percussionist Jim
DiSpirito, Salsamba saxophonist Eric DeFade, harmonica player Marc
Reisman, known for his work with the Houserockers and Ernie
Hawkins, and bassist/producer Mark Perna, who has performed with
local legends from Don Aliquo, Sr. to Leslie Smith to Ken
Karsh.
The foundation of Peter’s distinctive style is unusually
broad and rich, ranging from singer-songwriter gigs to formal
training in classical composition and jazz guitar. He has performed
at the Three Rivers Arts Festival, Smoky City Folk Festival,
Shadyside Summer Arts Festival, Calliope House concerts, Rosebud
and many Borders stores in Pittsburgh, Philadelphia and Ohio. His
teachers include Brazilian/jazz guitarist Marty Ashby, who heads
MCG Jazz, Duquesne University guitar chair Bill
Purse, and the legendary arranger John “Doc”
Wilson.
Peter has earned the respect of presenters, critics and a
cross-section of in-the-know Pittsburgh songwriters and musicians.
Here’s what they’re saying:
“Intricate guitar work, exciting singing and evocative,
richly melodic songs.”
— Philadelphia City
Line News
“Proof yet again that we don’t have to look any
further than our own back yard for great talent.”
— Shadyside Summer Arts Festival
“Peter can pen a lyric with all the poignant whimsy of
James Taylor and play with the dazzling dexterity of
Django.”
— Jack Erdie, Three Penny Opry
concert series
“His acoustic jazz, blues (and Latin!) infused original
songs coupled with well chosen traditional and pop covers make for
a great evening of live music.”
— Eve
Goodman, ModernFormations concert series
“Peter’s a great guitarist and songwriter. I
thoroughly enjoyed being a part of this CD.”
— Marc Reisman
With The Road to Ubatuba’s arrival on April 28, Peter
King’s musical journey could shift into high gear.
Interviewed about the CD, Peter is philosophical concerning its
prospects.
“One of the themes that comes up often in my songs is the
passage of time,” he says. “There’s one song,
“White Blossoms,” that’s sort of based on the old
“Rubaiyat,” a poem by Omar Khayyam about
living, loving, drinking wine and generally just focusing on the
moment.
“That’s kind of how I feel about this record. I had
such a kick doing it, playing with all these great musicians.
Whatever happens or doesn’t happen, I just want to keep
making music that I’m proud of and passionate about. And,
hopefully, music that makes people feel good.”
For more information about the new CD, contact Peter; also see the April 27, 2006
Pittsburgh Post-Gazette article. Missed the CD release party? No worry; see the
slide show.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
“Ubatuba + 3: The next CD? We’re
done!”
I keep writing about how I’m working on another CD. Now
I’m beaming as I type these words, because I am proud and
excited (and relieved) to be able to tell you that my new CD is
finished.
As in “Done. Completed. Finalized. Ready. Worked over within
an inch of its life.”
As with any loving daddy looking at his newborn, you’ll
forgive me if I say it’s pretty terrific!
But (there’s always one of those, isn’t there?) while
the music is primed to pop, a few details need to be hammered out.
Just a few, including artwork, pressing, promotion, scheduling a CD
release party, etc. It’s a whole new world of things to drive
me crazy! Nevertheless, I am thankful and somewhat delirious that
the hardest part is done.
Look for the new CD sometime in the fall. It features my core band
of Marc Reisman, harmonica, and Mark Perna, bass, plus Mark
Weakland on drums. It also features some of Pittsburgh’s best
soloists, including saxophonist Eric DeFade, clarinetist Lou
Schreiber and keyboardist Max Leake. And let’s not forget the
terrific guest singers: Heather Kropf and Autumn Ayers.
As for the songs, you’ve been hearing some of them live for
two and a half years — evolving as we change the arrangements
or I alter a line or two of lyrics: “That’s My
Girl,” “Connoisseur of Lawns”
“Cindy,” “Time is Watching” and “No.
1 in Liechtenstein” among them. I’ve also worked out an
arrangement of Van Morrison’s great “Brown Eyed
Girl.” Trust me — it’s something of a
re-invention as opposed to a rehash.
Can’t wait till the fall.
In the meantime, my first CD, “The Road to Ubatuba,” is
still alive and well and available right here on CD Baby (!).
As always, thanks for listening,
Peter
Monday, April 28, 2008
“Ubatuba + 2: The next CD? I swear it’s
coming!”
Today I’m celebrating another birthday, as well as the second
anniversary of the release of The Road to Ubatuba. As you can see
from reading “Ubatuba + 1” below, I had hoped to have
my next CD finished by now. However, the course of true love (love
for music, in this case) ne’er runs smooth.
We tried to do the CD live in the studio, somewhat in the manner of
a jazz quartet, even though my style is at least as much informed
by folk, blues and pop as it is by jazz.
It was a noble, perhaps quixotic effort. But we — myself,
producer/bassist Mark Perna and engineer extraordinaire Doug Wilkin —
weren’t satisfied with the results.
Recently, we switched to the more standard “pop” way of
producing, with isolated instruments and the capability to punch in
and out (overdub) at will.
We’ve discovered the beautiful, crystalline sound of each
instrument when it’s fully isolated, and we’ve also
found that you can still swing even when you’re overdubbing.
I’ve also realized that the click track is my friend! What I
had previously thought of as a soulless machine that destroyed the
idosyncracies of each musician’s sense of time, I now think
of as a really good swing drummer — say Philly Jo Jones or
Louis Bellson — who never lets you drag the tempo. But
you’re still free to play with time in subtle ways. Yeah,
we’re learning as we go, and we’re finally getting
somewhere!
Besides, if you look hard enough, on every rusted guitar string
there’s some silver coating: I have been playing my newer
songs both solo and with a band (Perna on bass and Marc Reisman on
harmonica) for more than a year. They’re road-tested.
De-bugged. Not like Windows Vista. They don’t need service
packs.
Some of you have heard these songs: “ “Connoisseur of
Lawns,” “Let’s Go For a Ride,”
“Cindy,” “Time is Watching” and
“Number One in Liechtenstein” among them. I’m
grateful for the response I’ve gotten from audiences when
I’ve played them.
Speaking of audiences, the last year has been a good one for live
gigs. I opened for national acts including Willy Porter and Todd
Burge. I played my first house concert, part of the intimate, homey
Resaca Series in Pittsburgh’s Mexican War Streets. (Where
else can you be crooning a quiet ballad as a dog wanders by?)
And I found myself in rotation at the Backstage Bar at Theater
Square, one of Pittsburgh’s hippest, most casually elegant
venues, where the food is good, the staff is friendly and
efficient, and management treats the musicians well.
One other thing I mentioned in “Ubatuba + 1” is my
desire to converse more with you, the fans that enable my
music-making addiction.
I want to post more messages on my site (call it a blog if you
must) and read your responses. That’s proved tough for me to
do, though, because I’ve been dependent on a dedicated but
overworked Webmaster to post things for me.
However, I’ve been struggling with the basics of HTML and
Dreamweaver, and I’ve finally reached the point where I can
post this message myself.
Look out! That means any time the spirit moves me, I can
pontificate for the benefit of my wife, sister and whoever else
might possibly care. If that includes you, pontificate back.
I’d love to hear what you have to say.
In the meantime, if you haven’t heard The Road to Ubatuba, of
which I remain quite fond, now’s your chance to buy it
— before the new CD comes out, before, um, Halloween, and
before, um, well, uh, now’s your chance to buy it!
How’s that for a sales pitch?
Best,
Peter
Saturday, April 28, 2007
“Ubatuba + 1: Thoughts on an
anniversary”
Today, April 28, means something to me for a couple of reasons.
It’s my birthday, for one thing. For another, it’s a
year to the day that I launched my CD The Road to Ubatuba with a
well-attended and, I think, well-played and appreciated gig at Club
Cafe. We sold cartons of CDs, if that’s any indication
— they arrived by UPS just in time.
Certainly the band was killer — regulars Mark Perna on bass
and Marc Reisman on harmonica, as well as saxophonist Eric DeFade,
percussionist Jim DiSpirito and drummer Jeff Berman.
I’m confident we’ll all share the same stage again some
day, and I might just bill them as The Really Good Band.
That’s because many people said to me, “Peter, that was
good. That band was REALLY good!” And I mustn’t forget Eve
Goodman, who gave the evening a first push in the right
direction with an excellent solo set of her own.
But enough of that magical night. I’m not writing this for
the sake of nostalgia, but rather to update some of you who like my
music about what’s transpired in the past year and
what’s coming in the future.
“Ubatuba” has done better than I could have
realistically hoped. It’s been heard (and sold) around the
world, from Australia to Montenegro to Montreal. It’s served
as a calling card that has opened doors for me to play some
wonderful concerts and club dates. It has also helped introduce me
personally to some wonderful people — fans, fellow musicians
and new friends.
And “Ubatuba” is still selling — oddly enough,
the cool thing about being an “indie” performer is that
you don’t explode with a hit and risk fizzling out from
there. If you’re lucky, you get to watch your music percolate
gradually through the Internet, where it doesn’t seem to get
old quite so quickly as yesterday’s teen-pop sensation. (In
other words, I’ll never sell a million, and I’ll never
be mistaken for a teen.)
Anyway, about the coming year: I’m writing new songs for the
next CD, which my producer, the aforementioned Mark Perna, assures
me will get done come hell or high
Monongahela.
I’ve written about seven tunes so far, and I’ve
revamped one of my old, old tunes. I’m also working on a
version of a traditional tune, in the spirit of the last CD’s
“Corrina, Corrina.”
Some of you have heard me play these tunes at gigs. Please feel
free to let me know what you think, and why, as you’re a kind
of a focus group, if you don’t mind my thinking of you that
way.
In the coming months, I’m also planning to participate more
in my Web site. The music, of course, is the main thing, but as an
ex-music critic, I guess I can’t keep my mouth shut or my
hands off the keypad entirely. There’s some interesting facts
and stories and tall tales surrounding the tunes I play and the
places I’ve been and the things I’ve seen that
I’d like to tell you about.
I don’t want to hog the conversation, though, so I’m
counting on you to message me
back.
While I’m talking about the past year, I shouldn’t
forget to mention one other significant event — I got
married. Before January 20, whenever I introduced the song
“Silly Goose,” I would explain that the title referred
to a term of endearment for my significant other. Now, I’ve
had to change the banter a little, because my S.O. has become my
beautiful wife.
So when you put all that together, it’s been a good 12
months. Here’s to another 12, and to you — the people
who get a kick out of the music I make.
I can’t thank you enough for listening.
Best,
Peter
