A Note From the Artist:
So what is the sorry state of music nowadays? Anyone who thinks they know something about it frowns when confronted with such an inquiry. But, who cares, right? The whole mess of a show is going to roll on anyway, burning violently, dismembering itself with every seemingly disastrous turn. There's not much we can do about it, I guess. It doesn't really matter though, so long as the muse is appeased, and something genuine and artful is made. Honesty, right? Realness, right? Talent, right? Melody, right? That catchy....whatever, right?
The truth is I have no idea what gives music greatness or what makes it work. What is the magic ingredient? Where does that feeling come from? You know what I mean?
And anyway what happened to composition? You know, the act of making it all. Coming up with the stuff all on your own! Why can't soulful feeling work in conjunction with things like that? Why can't soul have secondary melodies, and counterpoint, and extended tonality, and dense arrangements of written sounds? Why can't it be supported by a knowledge of history? Why can't it be independent of technology's crutch? Why can't it be conceived in the mind by the muse prior to hitting that red button? Why can't it have horns and strings and layers? Or why can't it be bare? Why can't it tear at you and caress you at the same time? Why can't the sum of every single component work as a cohesive musical unit?
So with this album we have a combination of techniques and efforts and feelings, all with wonderful intentions, but executed by a young man who is not totally sure of what he made! Nor was I ever.
Here is the meaning of all this: A songwriter working alone is a tune maker, a poet, a mixologist of chords, and a gatekeeper to the soul and human emotion. But, can a songwriter be even more? Can a songwriter integrate the entire experience? Can a songwriter be a composer? And is it worth trying?
I believe that a songwriter can step outside of the proverbial box of “tune maker extraordinaire” and fully become the music. That is what I am trying to assert. I intend to continue doing just that from now on. Let this be an experiment. If I fail, so be it. At least I was trying to do something.
In reference to the album title, a workshop is a place where things are made and things are fixed. It is a place for discovery. It is a place for capability. It is a place for invention and improvisation. A workshop is a place where you have the freedom to use your hands to create something totally your own. Based on the ideas outlined above, I set myself to work for many long hours in my own workshop to create the music that is this album. I hope you enjoy the sounds from my workshop!
Produced, composed, arranged, performed, engineered, mixed, and mastered by Tim Haufe
This album was recorded from July 4, 2012 to April 28, 2013. The majority of the recording was done at Tim's parent's house in Poughkeepsie, NY, with the remaining sessions taking place at the Bell's house in Greenwich, CT, and at Professor Mooseknuckle's apartment in Poultney, VT.
Tim Haufe: Piano, Guitar, Bass, Drums, Percussion, Organ, Trumpets on “That Tune I Showed Steve”
Professor Zachary “Mooseknuckle” Hampton: Tenor Saxophone
Geoff Ackerman: Trumpet
Kevin Ackerman: Trombone
I would very much like to thank:
Kevin, Geoff, and Professor Mooseknuckle for their hard work, professionalism, and flexibility; Brian Marchini for lending a considerable amount of recording equipment and knowledge; Richard and Claudia Bell for their hospitality and for allowing the use of their home and piano for recording; Zak Hampton and Sarah Hoch for their hospitality; My parents, Tim and Cathy, for letting me use a room in their house as a recording studio; Kent Baker for teaching me how to play piano and put the puzzle pieces together; Robert Knox for his piano tuning skills; Julian DeFelice for his continuing support; and Jaklyn VanManen for her continuing support, and for her continually reminding me that this project was not a complete waste of my time!