It goes without saying how much I appreciate the positive reception whenever I release new music. It's a driving motivator that encourages me to keep making music, so thank you all for your kind words. The feedback that stands out most, however, are the questions. When my music piques the interest fellow musicians wanting to know more about my process, I humbly feel as though I must be doing something right.

The main preparatory step in the recording of these covers was, of course, critical listening of the originals. I put on reference headphones and focused my ears on every single instrument, vocal part, and effect, one at a time. Take the kick drum, for example — I'd listen to it very closely to figure out what kind of kick it was, and which of my many virtual instrument libraries would be most likely to have kicks that match the closest. I'd then load those libraries and audition the kick drums until I found one I liked best.

Once I found the right kick drum sound, I'd tweak the sound with tuning, EQ, and transient shaping, or perhaps layer it with other sounds. (Most of the snares in these songs are layered from two to four sounds.) Then I'd listen to the reverb to distinguish what kind of reverb it is (hall, room, plate, etc.) and adust the parameters of the reverb (size, length, diffusion, color, imaging, etc.) until I was able to approximate the general sound.

The process was the same for the rest of the instruments. I'd critically listen to the basses, guitars, synths, and everything else, audition my virtual instrument libraries, and figure out how to best replicate the instruments in the original recordings. The bass on "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" for example, is a sound I created by layering a bass guitar with a sample library and a soft synth.

Software-based synthesizers were crucial to this project because getting the right sound required synth programming. I'd start with a preset that got me in the general ballpark, and then edit LFOs, envelopes, filters, and effects until I got the kind of sound I wanted.

I didn't obsess over matching sounds or mixes exactly because a cover song doesn't have to be a sonic clone of the original. If you recreate a sonic clone of a song that's been out for 35-40 years, the new version won't have anything refreshing to offer the listeners' ears.

What I personally feel is most refreshing about these songs is hearing them sung by people who could feel and deliver the vibe and energy of the original vocalists. Dan Tutsch really dug in to find that Bill Medley gusto. Abby Kramer, as we all know, turns every song she touches into gold. Sydney Burris recaptured the sweetness of the original Jets vocal beyond expectation. Aaron J Robinson beautifully internalized my updated arrangement of the Chicago ballad. And I'm positive Whitney Houston would be very proud of Josie Day for having put her heart and soul into her song.

As the story goes, Robin Hood robbed from the rich and gave to the poor. His ethics were arguably controversial, but now imagine what his literary reputation would be like if he'd have robbed from the poor to give to the rich.

Spotify recently announced that, starting in January of 2024, any song that receives less than 1,000 streams per year will have its earned royalties stripped away from the artist and placed in a pool to be redistributed to Spotify's more popular artists.

This is major news because the majority of artists on Spotify's platform are not household names. They're independent, local bands and musicians like me. According to reports, two-thirds of Spotify's entire music catalog receives less than 1,000 plays a year. This new strategy will redirect tens of millions of dollars in annual royalties from those lesser-known artists to their more popular artists, which includes mainstream artists like Rihanna, Drake and Taylor Swift.

Needless to say, the major record labels and publishers who represent those mainstream artists gave their thumbs up.

I have over 50 tracks on Spotify. I receive over a thousand streams per year, but cumulatively, not per song. Therefore 100% of my Spotify revenue from all 50+ songs will be taken away from me.

One can argue it's only a loss of a few dollars a year and therefore no big deal, but to me it's not about the money — it's about the principle. I have nothing against Taylor Swift, but she's not the one putting hundreds of hours of hard work and thousands of dollars into my productions. I am. For Spotify to freely give her my modest but justly-earned compensation because she's more popular than me is wrong on so many levels.

After the 1st of the year, I'm going to wait for a short time to see if Spotify comes under enough pressure to reverse or modify their decision. If they don't, then I will have to remove all of my music from the platform. This won't be fun because Spotify, with over 500 million active users and 225 million subscribers, is the world's largest streaming music platform. I'll lose a major medium of exposure. But every artist who stays on Spotify faces this moral dilemma:

If you don't get 1,000 streams per song, you'll be selling yourself out by letting Spotify and their preferentially-treated artists take 100% of the profits from your hard work. If you do get 1,000 or more streams per song, you'll become one of those preferentially-treated artists receiving royalties that were earned by, and stripped away from, your fellow hard-working, independent artists.

To make song royalty disbursements and licensing more streamlined and efficient for the modern age, the Music Modernization Act (MMA) was signed into law in 2018. The Act established the Mechanical Licensing Collective (MLC) whose purpose is to issue blanket licenses to digital music providers, such as Spotify and YouTube, allowing them to stream music. These providers report song plays to the MLC, and the MLC then distributes royalties to the appropriate artist or copyright holder.

Prior to the MLC's blanket licensing which started January 1, 2021, if you recorded a cover song and wanted to post it on your website for people to play, you would purchase a digital streaming license from one of the major song licensers. It was an easy process — you simply paid for as many plays as you expected to receive, and if you received more, you relicensed the song.

The MMA and MLC, however, have created a frustrating paradox:

A blanket license from the MLC is now the only practical means of securing permission to stream cover songs, and only major digital music providers like Spotify and YouTube can get a blanket license. The channels for independent musicians to license cover songs for streaming have been closed. If an independent musician wants to stream songs from their website, they're now left with two options:

Yes, you read that 2nd option correctly — if an artist wants to license a cover song for streaming on their website or any other smaller platform not covered by an MLC blanket license, they literally have to contact the publisher who holds the copyright to the song and request permission or negotiate a licensing fee. This is exactly how cover songs were authorized for distribution prior to the advent of mechanical licenses in 1909!

A rep from one major licensing company advised me that when it comes to contacting publishers for streaming permission, not to expect results. Publishers apparently now count on all their streaming royalties to come through the MLC and don't bother dealing with or responding to individual requests for streaming licenses — not even from major licensing companies.

The Harry Fox Agency still offers and issues digital streaming licenses through their licensing service Songfile, but apparently only for songs copyrighted by their affiliated publishers. [And their database seems to be plagued with mismatched song information which could inadvertently steer artists toward licensing the wrong songs.]

In fairness to the MMA, most artists today embed players from major platforms like Spotify and Apple Music, so it's not an issue for them. I could go that route since most of my music is on those platforms, and I'd even earn a few cents in royalties, but I personally don't care for their embedded players as they typically employ modal overlays, ads, or other annoyances. It's always been my preference to present my music in uninterrupted form for the maximum benefit of the listener. For that reason, licensing streams was always my preferred strategy for cover songs. I hope someday digital streaming licensing will come back to us independent musicians, but I think it's safe to assume that ship has sailed.

Ever wonder why the accordion player sometimes seems to stare into space or look so solemn? It could be that they're bored, but the more likely reason is that they're concentrating.

Every musician possesses a finite amount of musical brainpower. How much they possess is determined by how talented they are, and how much of it they allocate to performing varies on several factors.

Below is a graphic showing how an experienced, accordion-playing bandleader may allocate their brainpower during a typical performance. They don't use all their brainpower for performing because they don't need to. Through years of practice and performing, a lot of what they do has become second nature. They don't have to think about every note they're playing or singing because muscle memory is doing a lot of the heavy lifting. So while they are performing, a percentage of their mind is free for other tasks... like smiling:

But stressors can affect with bandleader's concentration, forcing him to allocate more of it to performing. Stressors can include being unable to hear well due to poor acoustics or inept sound technicians, having to play ahead or behind the drummer to prevent him from dragging or rushing the tempo, performing new material, and adapting their repertoire and arrangements to gel with new musicians. These kinds of stressors leave the bandleader significantly less brainpower for other tasks:

Like a typical polka bandleader, I have good days and bad days. On a good day, the drummer will lock onto my tempo, allowing me to relax and enjoy playing instead of continually having to hold him back or push him forward. On a good day, I'll hear myself clearly instead of having to allocate brainpower to deciphering what notes I'm playing or singing. Good days are fun, and they're what make being a polka bandleader worth all the hard work.

But sometimes gigs can be stressful, and when they are, it leads to mental exhaustion. Notice how crowded that second graphic is. After a four-hour gig under such conditions, I am completely spent. When I get home, I can't do anything that requires thinking because my brain is toast. I need a good night's sleep to recharge.

Some bandleaders have committed smiling to muscle memory so that they automatically do it without thinking. This is a good skill to have because smiling and concentrating don't go hand-in-hand.

So the next time you see a bandleader looking so serious and solemn, it's OK to say, "Hey! Smile!" Bandleaders actually enjoy the lighthearted banter. But to put yourself in their shoes, try maintaining an authentic smile while you're running multiplication tables in your head as you're weaving your way through heavy traffic on the freeway while trying to follow a football game on the radio. It's not as easy as it sounds.

Have you noticed that people who continually post messages of love, empathy, and tolerance on social media are often the most judgmental, intolerant, and bitter people in real life? Ever wonder why that is?

Last year when I wrote an article explaining why I don't use social media, I touched on a connection between social media and mental health. It generated some feedback, and since the topic of social media and narcissistic personality disorder came up in recent conversation in a discussion forum to which I belong, I decided to use my blog to shed more light on why we notice some social media users failing to live by the mantras they preach.

Below is a graphic showing how emotionally healthy people see the world around them. They generally see people as reflections of themselves — mostly good-natured and harmless. Friendships and relationships come naturally.

People with narrcissistic personality disorder (NPD), however, have a very different view of the world around them:

People with NPD have a very fragile ego, and their Kryptonite is criticism. Narcissists cannot handle the feeling of being judged or deemed wrong. It doesn't take much for a narcissist's mind to perceive a benign, harmless comment as a hostile, personal attack. To shield themselves from this perceived hostility, narcissists are very slow to trust anyone. In extreme cases they may even choose to live in relative isolation.

Since a narcissist lives in constant fear of being judged, their threshold of tolerance for other people's behavior toward them is unrealistically low, as shown by the extremely thin friend zone in the graphic above. Very few people in a narcissist's life will ever make it into their friend zone, and if they do, it's usually just for a short period of time. As long as the person is in agreement with how the narcissist thinks, the narcissist will keep that person in their friend zone. But when the person says anything that challenges or critiques the narcissist's way of thinking, which is guaranteed to happen at some point, the narcissist will perceive it as an attack, snap, and cast that person into their foe zone. This is why narcissists' friendships and relationships are often short-lived and come to sudden, dramatic ends.

The irony about NPD is that narcissists believe they possess a superior sense of tolerance and empathy which makes them a perfect, lovable friend — it's everyone else who's narcissistic, judgmental, apathetic, shallow, and untrustworthy. The narcissist believes the size of their friend zone is normal and their perception of what's required to be their friend is also normal. They're unhappy because it seems like everyone in the world is apparently too shallow, intolerant, and judgmental to be their friend.

But the disorder is the cause of the narcissist's unhappiness because it warps their perception of people. There's nothing wrong with 99% of the people in the narcissist's foe zone – they're adequately kind and compassionate. The narcissist's fear of criticism, however, causes them to vet everyone around them with prejudice and be quick to cast them off as foes for impractical, inconsequential reasons. This is what gives the narcissist their judgemental, apathetic, intolerant nature, which they project onto everyone around them.

The key to a narcissist finding happiness and contentment is rebuilding their self-esteem to where criticism no longer affects them. Then they'll be able to see and accept people as most of them truly are: well-intentioned and harmless. A narcissist is never truly reformed until their victim mindset of "I've been hurt by so many people" changes to "I now understand why I let myself feel hurt by so many people." Their friend zone will widen to a normal state, and the reformed narcissist will then be able to function normally and happily in the world.

So where does social media come into play?

In the real world, narcissists can't hide their intolerant, judgmental nature. Everyone in their life eventually sees who they're dealing with. This leads to discord which the narcissist internalizes as criticism. All this discord/criticism makes the real world seem like a hostile place to a narcissist.

Social media, however, gives the narcissist a place to go where they can do something they can't do in real life: control what everyone sees and says. They can create a facade to mask their vulnerability, and they can delete anyone or anything that poses a threat to their ego.

An emotionally-healthy person (above) does not feel threatened by people, so they are accepting of them. Their social media world mirrors their real world.

A narcissist (below) sees people as potential threats. Narcissists, due to their belief they possess superior tolerance and empathy, believe their friend zone is the behavioral standard by which everyone ought to conform. Those who do not conform are considered inferior and are summarily blocked/banned.

As we've all noticed, narcissists are known for filling up their social media pages with positive affirmations, wishes of love and self-empowerment, tips for living well, and inspirational quotes. They do this to "generate supply," which is a clinical term that roughly translates to "fish for validation." Every compliment they receive acts like a Band-Aid which gives them temporary relief from their low self-esteem. But these Band-Aids don't actually fix their self-esteem, which is why narcissists who use social media as a crutch in lieu of seeking professional help never change.

Needless to say, people who post daily messages of love, inspiration, and wisdom are not all narcissists. [I hardly think the Dalai Lama is a narcissist.] But everyone knows at least one person who incessantly posts about the importance of being strong, tolerant, and understanding, yet, when someone challenges one little thing they say or do, they fly off the handle with a volatile, emotional tirade, completely contradicting all the uplifting messages they've been posting. They may even shut down and disappear from social media for a few days to piece their emotions back together.

And then they go right back to posting how important it is for people to be strong, tolerant, and understanding.

While it may seem fun to push a narcissist's buttons and watch them flip their lid, I recommend you don't do that. NPD is a legitimate mental health condition. People with NPD are more prone to substance abuse, and one of the effects of NPD can be debilitating depression. Substance abuse and depression can be a life-threatening concoction. You can't gauge the seriousness of one's depression by what they post on the internet.

One last word of advice: If you find yourself debating a narcissist in an internet discussion forum, stop. There's no point. Just like a bad driver never misses their exit, a narcissist never loses an argument.

Oktoberfest is what I consider to be a polka musician's "Black Friday" because there's always more than enough work to go around. On Saturdays during the peak Oktoberfest season from early September to early October, the number of venues and events wanting live polka music always exceeds the supply of bands.

For polka musicians, this is a wonderful situation, but for bandleaders, booking these events and hiring thier musicians can feel like manning the operator's desk at Grand Central Station.

When it comes to booking bands for Oktoberfest, the early bird gets the worm. Events that book a year in advance will get their choice of bands, and the leaders of those bands will get their choice of musicians. But most Oktoberfest inquires come in much later, usually in August, and that's when things get hairy.

When an inquiry for an event comes in, a bandleader will call around to his preferred musicians to find out who is available to play. This is when the bandleader starts putting together a list of who is available and who isn't. But around Oktoberfest, it rarely ends there. A typical scenario goes like this:

While the bandleader is checking musician availability for this event, a second event inquires about live music for the same day. By default the bandleader will give priority to the first inquiry that comes in, so he gives both events a quote and first event a 24-hour window to accept or reject it. But, before the first event can even respond, one of the musicians informs the bandleader that another band called to inquire about booking him for another event, so he wouldn't know his availablity until later that day or tomorrow. While the bandleader is busy reassessing musician availability for the first event, a third event inquiry rolls in and the process repeats.

Scenarios like this are common during Oktoberfest, especially for the busiest Saturdays when a band may receive up to ten inquiries for the same date. It exemplifies how cut-throat the Oktoberfest season is. The availability of bands and musicians can change literally from one hour to the next. When you play music for a living, you have to stay on top of Oktoberfest inquiries and musician availability, and that requires fast and furious communication by phone, text, and email. But nothing is guaranteed because when it comes right down to it, band and musician availability is determined mostly by one thing: the timing of the inquiry. After that, it's just pure luck.

When I am able to take a late booking for Oktoberfest, I prompt the venue to sign the contract quickly. I'm sure it comes off like a cheesy sales pitch, but it's not. There's a reason. Polka musicians are free agents. They are free to take the first confirmed gig that comes their way. With the demand for polka musicians being so high during Oktoberfest, the sooner a bandleader can confirm a gig with a contract, the sooner he can lock in his band's preferred musicians for that gig. A delay in signing the contract can result in the bandleader having to downsize his band because one of his musicians was poached by another band for another event.

When venues book late, sometimes luck can be on their side:

A couple weeks ago, my band received an inquiry for a Saturday Oktoberfest event. Less than an hour later, a second inquiry came in for the same Saturday. I provided price quotes to both venues, but informed them that the first venue had a 24-hour window to commit to booking us before we'd become fair game for the second venue. The first venue did not commit, which gave the second venue a shot at booking us. But they, too, did not commit. Both venues expressed a lot of interest, but even after several days went by, neither had pulled the trigger. Although neither venue was obligated to hire us, both were taking a big risk because a third venue could have came along at any time and sniped us for that date. It's a miracle that didn't happen. [The second venue finally did commit to hiring us.]

Almost everywhere the Steve Meisner Legacy Band has performed, we've been inadvertently advertised as the Steve Meisner Tribute Band. While we understand this advertising has had the best of intentions, there is a distinct difference between a legacy band and a tribute band that needs to be clarified.

A tribute band is a band whose only goal is to sound like, look like, and play nothing but the music of another band. Tribute bands exist all over the world, mimicking everyone from Abba to Zepplin. The musicians in tribute bands usually have no association or affiliation with the band they're mimicking.

The Steve Meisner Legacy Band is not a tribute band because we are made up of the band's actual members, and although we perform a good number of songs that Steve was known for playing, each guest accordionist brings their own style and repertoire to each performance. The Steve Meisner Legacy Band doesn't try to mimic Steve Meisner, nor would we ever use his name to secure new gigs. We're merely honoring him by fulfilling his contracts, and, at the request of a handful of venues that were special to Steve and his band, we may maintain a few of his annual, longstanding performances.

I'm usually elated whenever I announce the release of a new single. Under the circumstances, however, this song's release is bittersweet as it honors the life and legacy of our departed friend, Steve Meisner.

"Go Rest High on That Mountain" is a beautiful, uplifting memorial song written and composed by Vince Gill. I never had any intentions of recording a cover of it, but when Steve passed away, I knew it would make a fitting tribute.

Steve was a fan of a song I wrote a couple years ago called "My Daddy Lives On". He complimented me on its simple, evocative, Nashville-style arrangement, so when it came time to produce a tribute song for him, I knew that was the route I wanted to go.

I began arranging and recording this song on June 4, and finished production in the studio on June 26.

The stunningly poignant vocal is performed by Abby Broeniman. Abby, granddaughter of the late Dorf Kapelle bandleader Ernie Broeniman, is the vocalist who shared a duet with Steve on my 2022 album, Escape to Polka Paradise. Steve was a fan of Abby's singing and would no doubt appreciate the incredible job she did on this project.

People have asked me how to get in touch with Abby to thank her and compliment her on her vocals, so she's given me her permission to publicly share her email address: abbykramer61@gmail.com

Joining Abby and me on this song are two of my fellow bandmates from Steve's band: Jerry Bieniek and Don Hunjadi, friend and fellow recording artist Mollie B, and Nashville-based session vocalist Craig Palmer. My thanks to all of them and to Ted Lange for their contributions to this project.

I've covered the cost of the song's licensing, so it is free for you to play and/or download. I also put together a video slideshow to accompany and deliver the song. I hope the music and pictures bring you peace and comfort as you keep the Meisner family in your thoughts and prayers.

UPDATE JULY 2, 2023: As most of you know, I eschew social media. As a result, I am not privy to the reactions and feedback received by this song on Steve Meisner's Facebook page, but friends and fellow musicians have informed me that it's received over 10,000 plays, over 500 likes, and nearly 200 comments. I am humbled and overwhelmed by all your kind words. On behalf of Abby, Craig, Don, Jerry, Mollie, and Ted... thank you so much!

A concerned consumer of polka music recently forwarded me information from the latest issue of a polka music retailer's newsletter. Something seemed fishy to them, and they wanted to run it by me for my opinion.

In the newsletter, the retailer was advertising CDs for sale as usual, but also specified that if you don't want a CD, they could copy the music from any CD to a USB drive and then ship you the drive. Since CD players are obsolete, this can be a very valuable service for some consumers, especially those who drive newer cars.

What raised a red flag and triggered alarm bells, however, was the included comment that if you order an album on a USB drive, to specify whether or not you want them to ship out the CD as well.

If you ever see an offer like this, ALWAYS SAY YES. It's very important you insist the retailer ship the CD with the USB drive, even if you have no way of playing CDs. Here's why:

A band can track sales of their albums, but they can't track sales of third-party copies of their albums. If a band sells a retailer 25 CDs, the retailer can only sell 25 CDs before they need to order more. But if the retailer copies the band's album from CD to USB drive and sells the drives, the band can't track those sales. The retailer might only buy 25 CDs, but they could potentially sell hundreds of copies of the albums on USB without the band ever knowing.

By insisting the CD be included with the USB drive, you are protecting the band's copyright by ensuring the retailer can't sell more albums than what they buy from the band.

When I contacted the retailer, they assured me that if a customer buys an album on USB and tells them to keep the CD, they will voluntarily take one CD out of their inventory and return it to the band. I do not personally know this retailer so I am not going to make any assumptions, but even if they have the best of intentions, their album-on-USB strategy, from a business perspective, has not been implemented in the most practical way and still triggers red flags that ought to be addressed and fixed.

Over the spring, I'd been trying to decide on a good date to make my latest album, Escape to Polka Paradise, available to the public via digital streaming platforms. The date I chose, quite arbitrarily, was June 1. On that date, the album dropped on Apple Music, Spotify, and most other major streaming platforms.

It's a news story that never made it onto my website. Needless to say, far more important news was breaking that day — the untimely loss of our friend, Steve Meisner.

For several days, my brain was in a fog that hampered everything I did, but as the fog slowly started to lift, I thought about how the album — which features Steve singing two songs — went live on the same day he passed away. Was there any meaning to this coincidence?

As I pondered these thoughts, I found that meaning in a memory that came back to me. It was a memory of the recording session that took place last year in May, when Steve was at my studio recording his vocals for the album. At the time, it was insignificant. In retrospect, however, it defines who Steve was at his core, and needs to be shared.

Professional studio albums incur a lot of expenses, one of which is paying the musicians and vocalists. Escape to Polka Paradise cost over $5,000 to produce, but, with the exception of a small stack of CDs, not a penny of that went to Steve Meisner. After he finished recording his vocal tracks for the album, I tried to pay him for his services, but he flatly refused to take any money from me.

"Tom," he said, "I don't want your money. As long you're happy with the vocal tracks, then I'm happy."

I thanked him profusely while still trying to jam a couple $100 bills into his pocket, but he kept pushing my hand away.

"Steve, at the very least, can I reimburse you for gas driving up here from Whitewater?"

"No, thanks," he sternly but sincerely replied as I reluctantly capitulated.

As we were exiting the studio and getting ready to walk up the stairs, he spied a roll of bubble wrap on the floor.

"I'll tell ya what, Tom, I'll take that roll of bubble wrap right there. How about that?"

He then explained how one of his grandkids [I can't remember which one] loved bubblewrap and would have an absolute ball with it. Without hesitating I picked up the roll and plunked it in his arms. We both smiled and shared a laugh.

In retrospect, that small gesture says so much about Steve Meisner. There he was — one of the most revered titans in the history of the genre — walking out my door with nothing but a $30 roll of bubblewrap, and happy as a clam.

Steve Meisner was a great musician, but his profession, quite simply, was making people happy. His talent only defined him as a musician. What defined him as a man was how masterfully he used that talent as a vehicle to spread the love in his heart to others.