Shelter In Place

Produced by: Michael James, Urban Olsson, David Kahne, Aaron Durr, Brian Joseph Kenny and Eric Colvin

Mixed by: Michael James

Engineered by: Every musician on the album, self recorded remotely at home during the pandemic lockdown of 2020

Mastered by: David Donnelly at DNA Mastering Executive Producers: Chris Jansen and Tim Roth

Artwork/Design: Jeremy Sutherland

Photography: Christina Joy

CG Images/Michael James Photo: Tim Roth

“Shelter in place” was probably a useful metaphor, in the before times.

These days, it’s a phrase one can’t help but take literally, as most all of us have direct experience with doing exactly that, and going a little crazier as a result.

So this is a concept album that’s a little less conceptual than either the artist himself or his listeners might desire; what might have been received as an interesting story a year ago now feels like a running commentary on our shared reality.

It’s about what happens when some of the people we love are too far away, and the rest are far too close. It’s about being isolated, but not alone. Because it’s by Michael James, it’s also about the hope/belief that there’s some transcendent spiritual reward at the end of it all. But because he made it in 2020, I also hear a hint of fear there might not be, or, possibly worse, that there is but we might not qualify.

The songs are filled with car crashes real and imagined, breakups impending and past, and deaths both spiritual and corporeal. You’ll hear characters singing about devastating pain, feeling alone, and discovering, “Hope is another lie.” You’ll also hear them singing about love –it’s just that they’ve learned love can’t prevent any of these tragedies.

Listen to the songs in sequence in one frame of mind, and they’ll tell you a linear narrative about a troubled couple, an automobile accident, a man who can’t bear the loss of the woman he loves, and an eventual reunion in the afterlife (or maybe it’s just happening in outer space). Play them again, though, and you can project an entirely different story onto the same characters, the same gorgeous guitar parts, and the same haunting organs.

Because the story’s not being told to you, it’s being made up by you, because you’ve been sheltering in place too long and every mundane action is a reminder that no actions are mundane right now, because life is far scarier than it’s supposed to be. When did that happen, and why are the people I love only so much help in the midst of it?

In that milieu, a sentiment such as “Nothing Lasts Forever” can be a cause for hope as well as woe –if everything’s temporary, even the terrifying stuff has to end at some point. By the same token, “You Think It’s Over But It’s Not” can be bad news about our failure to bend the curve of the pandemic, or good news about that afterlife you were hoping for.

Similarly, songs you think you already know reveal new layers. Michael’s rearrangement of the Beatles’ “Something” has no words, because we can supply them ourselves, but when we do we realize that, in this context, “I don’t want to leave her now” is the key line.

Michael’s version of “Fly Me to the Moon” does include the words you know, but here the sentiment they impart is less about being giddy with love, and more about a genuine desire to get the hell off this dying planet. As always with Michael, the songs are impeccably produced while still feeling loose and live.

Without that combination of professionalism and heart, the journey this record sends you on might feel too harrowing. But there’s something reassuring about just how good at their jobs every player on this record is –they might not know what’s lying in wait at the center of these songs, but they don’t sound afraid of learning; they sound downright eager. So let them guide you into the heart of darkness and, just possibly, through it.

Let’s be honest: you can’t go anywhere else right now.

The orchestra tunes their instruments. Concertgoers wait in anticipation for the opening line. Hopes are shattered as a new reality displaces what should otherwise have been a pleasant evening under the stars. Symphonic harmony is replaced by dissonant chaos – “When the Penny Drops.”

I come from a cultured pedigree of old school blues, jazz and classical upbringing – so you can imagine my shock and dismay as the penny dropped far too quickly. Dig the tight coordination between MJ’s guitar and Eric Colvin’s excellent keys! By no fault of our own, we are separated from our loved ones. We cannot accept this cruel turn of events.

With false alacrity, our narrative seeks to unite us with “Come Back Lover.” The singsong of a happy cadence masks our deepest fears of being alone. This song is pure comfort food. The slide Dobro solo is gorgeous. If your gig is guitars, you’ll love this song. Check out Aaron Durr on vocals, keyboards and yes…drums!

Would you really take a bullet for love? In “Nothing Lasts Forever,” a bittersweet acknowledgement is that all good things come to an end. “We’re all gonna die; live a little while we can; is this a haiku?” – is this perhaps the ultimate haiku? I love the subtle guitar orchestrations throughout. Being a fan of the classic Mellotron, it’s easy to teleport to when I was a kid and couldn’t afford one. Immediately after the 2nd Chorus, listen for the instrumental section that evokes Jazz legend Wes Montgomery on helium – its playful joyous levity would make for a great commercial jingle for an Apple advertisement or a Dating app. Take your pick. Urban Olsson knocks the Haiku right out of the park on vocals!

Pandemics, natural disasters, unexpected fateful turns… ”Learning To Live Without You” reflects a survivor’s anguish over loss. Will those who have moved on remember those left behind? Perhaps forgetting is the ultimate gift. Did I mention I dig the keyboard fills (hint 2nd Verse)? Also, those insanely beautiful orchestral string arrangements – we have Eric Colvin to thank for that. Franc Aledia possesses the perfect voice in conveying the emotion of the lyric.

Interesting factoid: Michael composed both this song and “Save Me Tonight” before lunch on the same morning to process the loss of a loved one. Whatever spiked his breakfast Wheaties, sign me up for a dose!

One fateful turn has us “Scraping the Guard Rail.” No words are required as MJ’s guitar recounts a scene better left unspoken. Yet, if you listen closely – perhaps not all is lost. The guardrail has shielded us from finality. Close calls can make us savor life more passionately. This instrumental song is pure magic. We have a new “vocalist” in the form of Michael’s melodic lead guitar. Warren Wellen delivers impeccable keys and bass. Rob Ahlers delivers a heartfelt pounding on the drums while MJ crushes it Robben Ford-esque style on the guitar solo. Love the lead guitar run-in at around the 2-minute mark. Buoyed by the delicate interplay between MJ and Rob, Warren’s keyboard solo nimbly navigates its way through nervous waters to the relief of solid ground.

Having survived the wreckage, we aren’t out of the woods, yet. “I Can’t Take It” is an anthem of allusion, a desperate act of condolence – not for the dead, but rather, for the repetitive nature of our fallen angels. Eager to drown our indifference, we gulp (instead of sip) because a part of us refuses to know, refuses to understand each other, let alone ourselves. What’s there not to love about Julia Albert’s incredible vocal performance? Once again, great guitar layers, not to mention the cool Dark Side of the Moon feel. Can’t say enough about MJ’s guitar tone. We went back and forth on the discussion of subtle delay effects on the guitar. I lobbied hard for a majestic Steve Lukather or David Gilmour tone, but MJ was firm in his resolve to be bold as John Coltrane, closer to nakedness than bejeweled. Well, who the hell needs delays when you play that good? He calls me a “Luke head” – and assures me that it is a compliment! I’m taking inventory. On paper we’re fine.

In the song, “Save Me Tonight,” we aren’t alone, but we feel alone. Has the relationship run its course? Will we choose to live another day? Once again, we have Franc Aledia at the vocal helm. Really love his gritty performance. Check out the musician line-up – all rock stars! Jaben Pennell gives us that incredible Jeff Porcaro-like drum pattern in the verses. MJ delivers yet again – each guitar solo he conjures up is unpredictably refreshing. Eric Colvin’s grand piano cries during the main body of the song before passing the baton to MJ, who lays down the highly appropriate austere piano outro that closes this exquisitely crafted song.

What should become clear is the recurring cast of characters that make up the pages of this musical narrative. Our lover is no longer at home, our friends are in faraway places. But, despite the passage of time and distance, “I’ll Be Here” provides the type of massaging the world desperately craves. Listening to Aaron Durr’s vocal is like settling down with the world’s best cup of tea! MJ works the fretless bass with sweet tenderness. Drums provide the glue – multi-instrumentalist Eric Colvin delivers in spades! Nothing but smiles on MJ’s guitar solo. Wait a second – I thought I heard a little bit of delay effects! How can you not fall in love with the energy, the buildups and great chemistry of this piece? It’s a musical hug for the listener who craves the reassurance of a strong, yet gentle, human touch.

When positive measures are exhausted, we look to the horizon, hoping for anything but the cruel hand of irony. “Push On Through” speaks of dreams and demons. Is hope just another lie? Even if it is, it’s better to push on through. We change gears and introduce Colin Keenan on vocals, guitars and keyboard. This song is indeed, epic, brilliantly produced, hauntingly sad, yet hopeful. Michael dances the bass passages with ease while creating a beautiful string arrangement. And how about his lead guitar solo at around 2:26? Wow!

What if your sense of “Something” isn’t at all what you thought it was? Do we live and learn, or are we paralyzed in a state of Déjà vu – at the brink of an epiphany only to realize we are missing ‘something’? As this haunting song implies, the melody is familiar and taunts and teases us into sublimity. As impactful as George Harrison has been, Michael has taken this song, flipped it on its head and arranged it in such a way as to create a new classic. As such, it stands on its own. Here’s a special shout-out to James Zota Baker for his incredible slide guitar accompaniment – listen for it throughout the song. Again, Jaben Pennell on drums does not disappoint. MJ delivers a brief, but powerful performance on vocals during his improvised guitar solo. His legato phrasing on lead guitar harkens the likes of a more visceral, less intellectual, Allan Holdsworth.

“I Can’t Make You Love Me” – is it a juxtaposition, an oxymoron or a gift that never gives? It’s possible to coexist, yet drift all alone in a sea of uncertainty. Love is never a given. We have the pleasure of Franc Aledia’s vocals, once again. The trio of Michael, Warren and Eric play their instruments with soulful grit, guided by the beacon of Hoobastank drummer Chris Hesse, straight through the darkness, always toward the light.

To play among the stars must be preceded by the ability to launch off of this rock! “Fly Me to the Moon” pays homage to the fantasy of escape while in this particular case – paying respects to a famous member of the Rat Pack while faithfully recreating timeless musical passages by way of guitar fills that would make Count Basie blush…. with pure joy! MJ’s gorgeous vision provides balance to an otherwise bleak planetary episode straight out of the Twilight Zone. It took me a while to wrap my mind around the performance of this classic. But when I did, wow – the training wheels fell off! With giddiness, I’m happy to hear Aaron Durr in the vocal seat. How about MJ’s solo rundown at 1:35? Dude! What was that bit of jazzified magic?

We are conditioned to believe that “Nothing Lasts Forever (Slight Reprise)” – and that may be true during that sliver of time awarded us here on earth. An apparition of Urban Olsson returns to contemplate his mortality and that of his loved ones. In the end we’ve lived our life and lived it well. “Rise Up Into the Light” is a story of redemption—our hero is at peace with the impending inescapable transition, and assures those left behind that they should celebrate instead of cry. Our hearts break as we say our goodbyes. Time waits for no one. Not only does Warren Wellen play keys on “Rise Up”–he also takes co-composing credit, plays the acoustic guitar and slugs a walk-off home run with a stunning heartfelt vocal performance! MJ’s tremolo Telecaster accompaniment is the protagonist’s loyal wingman to the very end, evolving from confidant to death doula. Urban Olsson provides a great brush shuffle on drums. Eric Colvin’s string arrangement is fabulous. Hit the pause button when you reach the ghostly coda – that’s 26 tracks of Michael James singing layered choir vocals! Great vision and amazing closure that makes my eyes water every time.

Just when “You Think it’s Over, But it’s Not,” alas, life as we know it becomes a distant memory—and hopefully a new beginning. This composition (as short as it is) could not have been handled with greater care. After all, it serves as that transition where the soul takes flight into the light. Eric Colvin and Michael James team up to provide a landscape befitting of the occasion. MJ revisits guitar lead fills from When The Penny Drops – in reverse! We’re moving forward on our cosmic journey while simultaneously going back in time. Figure that one out.

Speaking of time, let us awaken to 1863 when Abraham Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation, when field songs were the email of the plantation. Then, let us just as swiftly time travel into the futuristic year, 2020, when tear gas canisters and bloody batons add chaos to peaceful gatherings protesting 400 years of human and civil rights inequality. To the one who uttered ‘hindsight is 20/20’ — sadly history has tried to teach us, but the students have all skipped class.

“Color of My Skin” reminds us we have so much to learn in so little time. Weezer co-founder Jason Cropper makes his vocal entrance along with ‘70s Soul singer Walter Heath and co-composer, Jazz master Morris LeGrande. This song is the result of some serious soul searching. MJ coordinates this diverse gathering of heavy-hitting talent, allowing all four stars to shine brightly, harmoniously, while body-slamming racism head on, with no excuses. There is beauty in diversity, and we are stronger when we work together. 2020 wasn’t just about a pandemic, but much more, including yet another racial awakening. Hopefully the awareness will stick this time, and not become lost in the never-ending parade of revolving news cycle sound bites. And so we conclude this journey where we began.

Just as the symphonic poem propels us from movement to movement, so does the storyline of this musical collection that makes up the larger body of work, Shelter In Place. Perhaps what follows the tuning of orchestral instruments is indeed, not a disruption, but rather, the unfolding of the human struggle. Tests and difficulties strengthen us and facilitate the acquisition of virtues. Like steel that must endure fire and the pounding of the blacksmith’s hammer, we must endure trials and tribulations to become tempered swords ready for the battlefield, to become warriors for justice, peace, compassion and love.

“Let’s Connect Our Minds” serves to convert these struggles to life-sustaining connection – to one another. To get back in tune with each other. Pure icing on the cake, this song is! Ok, let me stop right here and gush over the arrangement, the keyboard stabs, the articulated reggae guitar and notably – check out Eric Colvin featured on vocals. Brett M. Grossman on bass rounds out the ensemble. The guys play with Steely Dan-like precision. What a great celebration of musicianship! Michael and Eric provide coordinated, parallel melodic phrasing and Michael throws down a gorgeous lead guitar solo in the right place and the right time. Life is a celebration. Live it well!

Gratitude:

I, Michael James, being of sound mind and body, profoundly thank everybody who participated in the making of this album.

It takes a village.

If your names were already listed above, they are most likely not listed here—but you should know that I asked you to join me in this endeavor because I love you. You already know that, so I will spare the reader the reasons why.

Special thanks to Colin Keenan, Warren Wellen, Keith Milutinovic, Kelly Bowen, Cynthia Catania, Rob Chiarelli, Linda Taylor, Julia Albert Olsson for always being there when I need fresh perspective.

Heartfelt thanks to Marek Stycos (Dangerous Music and Audio Alchemist), EveAnna Manley (Manley Labs), Jim Aschow & Doug West (Mesa/ Boogie), Bob Muller, Tom Anderson (Tom Anderson Guitarworks), Ken Bogdanowicz (SoundToys), Jason Davies (Eleven Dimensions Media, Zynaptiq, PSI Audio), Robin Ashley (Phoenix Audio), Simon Cote, Paul J de Benedictis (Focal Professional and Spectrasonics), Gil Griffith (Wave Distribution), Paul Wolff (Fix Audio), Ray Maxwell (Eventide), Robert Bradshaw (Custom Audio Electronics), Paul Erlandson, Freddy Villano & Rebecca Ebhardt (Glyph Technologies), Dan Pilver (iZotope), Roger Robindore (Apogee Digital), Carmen Rizzo (Native Instruments), Russ Hughes (LiquidSonics), Wade Goeke (Chandler Limited), Ken Rich (Ken Rich Services), Geoff Luttrell (San Francisco Guitarworks), Stirling Trayle, Barry Grzebik, George Alessandro (Alessandro High-End Products), Tim Pfouts (SIT Strings), Roger Roschnik (PSI Audio), Matthew Chamberlain (Peregrine Insurance Agency) and Allen Farst (Niche Productions) for your support, attention to detail and friendship. Collyer Spreen, your talents and generosity are boundless. Bonus points to Chris Jansen, Christina Joy, and Jeremy Sutherland for the extra innings walk-off home run.

Urban Olsson and David Kahne, we did it again! You two made it fun, and you never cease to amaze me. Can you believe it was way back in 1998 when we first connected?

Brian J. Kenny, you nurtured the seed. You were born to be a music producer. Aaron Durr, together we found the serendipity in the pandemic. I loved pushing each other beyond our comfort zones. Eric Colvin (insert prehistoric dial-up modem chirping here ______ because it makes us laugh and reminds us from where we came to get here), we share the mantra: “If you like it, I LOVE it!” David Donnelly, thank you for being a solid friend and champion for 20+ years and hundreds of records. Let’s keep it going for another 20!

My beloved spouse/soulmate Irina Irvine, my dear friends Tim Roth and Jan Seedman: I couldn’t have done this album without you. Your unconditional love means the world to me. Deepest gratitude. Let’s rock!