Ian Marquis of Trenton releases self-produced rock album
“For me, making music is about achieving the best sound I can with a limited set of equipment,” says Marquis, a resident of Trenton who works in Bar Harbor. “When I set out to make this album, my goal was to make all the tracks sound like they had been recorded in a big studio—but they weren’t. They were recorded in my apartment.”The album, Marquis’ first release, is a collection of dark, atmospheric, and highly-textured tracks titled The Solomon Project. It was completed in late spring 2009. Since then, he has been quietly promoting it online, through social networking sites. “I don’t have the money to do much in the way of marketing, so I’m relying on the Internet to create a buzz,” Marquis says. “At this point, I haven’t really made any money from my songs, so this is all a sort of side project for me—I have to assemble all my CDs by hand, for example—but I take my music very seriously.”
The Solomon Project began as a single song recorded in September 2008. “Before that, I was recording instrumental tracks, laying down what you’d probably consider demos,” Marquis says. “I play guitar, and I’m good enough at it that I’m happy with the sounds I’m able to produce. But I wasn’t singing—I just didn’t feel like I was able to do it.” But that first song—a grinding rock number called “She Lives for Chastity”—contained vocals, and it proved to be a catalyst for the album as a whole. “Once I had that song, I knew I had to do this. I thought, “If I can do it once, I can do it again.” It was just a matter of finding my voice—finding a way to incorporate what I could do vocally into my already-established style of guitar-playing and songwriting.” The track list went through several iterations before finally settling into its final state: eleven songs that cover just over forty minutes. The Solomon Project is by turns dark, dense, and opulent (“Break,” “Candy”); sparse and sharp-tongued (“Girls,” “Give It Up,” “Stuck in My Head”); and upbeat (“(Shhh) Don’t Tell”). Nine of the songs have vocals; two are instrumental (“Frequency,” “Bleed Dry”).
“The hardest part about recording this album, when I really think about it, was that I had to do it on my own,” Marquis says. “Working solo is great for creative control; there’s no one to argue with over the direction a track is headed. But that’s a two-edged sword. Some of the songs I was able to bring from a quick jam to a finished track in a single day (“Give It Up,” “Ministry”). But when something wasn’t working, things went a little differently. There’s no second opinion when you’re working alone. Occasionally I would send a song to a friend to get a fresh perspective, but at the end of the day, I had to work it out by myself. I don’t have a band. I play the guitar, program the drum and bass loops, sing, and do anything else that you hear on the tracks. I do all the recording and mixing. If something didn’t sound the way it was supposed to, I played with it until it did. Sometimes it took days. Sometimes weeks.”But what really makes The Solomon Project stand out is its high production value. The guitars are crisp, aggressive, and at times densely-layered. The drums pound. Marquis’ vocals range from whisper-quiet to flat-out screaming—and everything in between. Squelches of guitar feedback dart in and out of the mixes. Spoken words, breathing, and other noises add complexity and depth. “Listening to these songs, you would have no idea I produced them in my apartment with literally no budget. Nothing. I have my gear and my computer, both of which are nothing special,” says Marquis. “I only own two microphones and one decent electric guitar. My amplifier and effects pedals are standard. I run everything through a $50 mixer into the back of my computer.”
“To me, production is a language—a vocabulary. When you first start out, you don’t understand anything. Maybe you know a few words, but you aren’t aware of how they fit together to communicate clear ideas. But eventually you learn things—where the little swells of feedback fit in; the best places for drum fills; how to move effectively from one part of a song to the next—and you begin to develop a feeling for it. I wanted this album to hit hard—no half measures. I knew the sort of sound I was looking for, and I fought with the tracks until I heard it. If you listen to modern rock—the kind of music you hear on the radio¬—everything is incredibly tight. The producers know how to get that sound, and by listening to what they’ve done, you can use a little of their knowledge in your own work.”
When asked what he wants listeners to take away from his music, Marquis replies “Music is a very personal thing. I’ve never liked it when an artist spells out exactly what a work is supposed to mean. People are always going to interpret a song in a way that they can identify with. That’s how I am myself, so I understand how it works. I’ve put a lot of myself into these tracks, but ultimately, what they mean is up to the listener.” Then, he adds “But if I had to name one thing that I want people—musicians especially—to take away from my music, it’s this: you don’t need a lot of money, expensive equipment, or studio time to record a high quality album. If you’re intimately familiar with your gear, and you understand the sound you’re looking for, you can make good music with just about anything.”
The Solomon Project is available online through CD Baby, Amazon, iTunes, Lala, Tradebit, and other retailers. More information about the album (including lyrics and complete guitar tablature for all tracks) can be found at www.rigelvii.com. Ian Marquis has a MySpace profile at www.myspace.com/jespinmusic, which features cuts from the album.
Ian Marquis is a guitarist, singer, and Maine native. He was born in Rumford, and graduated from the University of Maine in 2006 with a BA in New Media. He is a graphic designer, writer, and avid hiker.
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