mattsingermusic: Today’s All Your Joy submission, from Hank Spangler, is simply “Joy”. We want to know what brings you JOY. Find instructions here and you’ll be entered in our “All Your Joy” contest, in conjunction with Matt’s new album, The Build, available May 1st. EnJOY!
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mattsingermusic:

Today’s All Your Joy submission, from Hank Spangler, is simply “Joy”.

We want to know what brings you JOY. Find instructions here and you’ll be entered in our “All Your Joy” contest, in conjunction with Matt’s new album, The Build, available May 1st.

EnJOY!

Source: mattsingermusic

mattsingermusic: PIZZA! Who doesn’t love pizza! Well today’s All Your Joy audio submission, from “actor, podcaster, writer, and dope rhyme-sayer” Sam Dingman, dives deep into the analysis of said cheesy goodness. May the pizza force be with you!  Listen here: PIZZA We want to know what brings you JOY. Find instructions here and you’ll be entered in our “All Your Joy” contest, in conjunction with Matt’s new album, The Build, available May 1st. Have your pizza order ready after you listen to Sam’s take on late-night grub.
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mattsingermusic:

PIZZA! Who doesn’t love pizza! Well today’s All Your Joy audio submission, from “actor, podcaster, writer, and dope rhyme-sayer” Sam Dingman, dives deep into the analysis of said cheesy goodness. May the pizza force be with you! 

Listen here: PIZZA

We want to know what brings you JOY. Find instructions here and you’ll be entered in our “All Your Joy” contest, in conjunction with Matt’s new album, The Build, available May 1st.

Have your pizza order ready after you listen to Sam’s take on late-night grub.

Source: mattsingermusic

mattsingermusic: Today’s “All Your Joy” submission is a moving piece by Isaac Daniel Perez. He paints a vivid picture of his childhood memories growing up in Brooklyn and what brought him JOY during those years. Please, have a read…                                                                              Under The Bridge: By Isaac Daniel Perez I grew up  in Brooklyn Heights, New York.  At a time when the neighborhood was filled with faces of all colors, cultures  and creeds.  From doctors to teachers, Muslim’s to Jehovah’s Witnesses,  you had to be quite daft to be prejudice, where I was raised.   I went to Public School Eight,  located on the corner of  Middagh and Hicks St.  which till this day makes me cringe, when it comes to mind.  From the teachers  to the smell of the lunchroom,   just the thought  brings  back some of the worst memories a child could have.  I  can still remember the faces of each teacher who literally told, a ten year old version of myself,  that I would never amount to anything, thank you Ms. Cooper and Ms. Reichbach.   But this isn’t a written piece about what school did what to who, or even a complaint shy of twenty years.  This is a keeping,  if you will.  A  work in progress.  This is about  the escape from the bad times and the hiding place us kids would go.  A place where the night was meant  for laughs,  and the days would only lead to reflections.   An Anchorage stands at the foot of Old  Fulton,  behind a rusty, chained gate.  Hundreds of cold cobble stones laid before  a picture perfect  view of Pier 17.  The  Brooklyn Bridge hangs overhead and what appears to be an empty lot,  is actually  filled with clairvoyant moments and endless memories.   As you gaze over the East  River,  you can see the Manhattan traffic heading back and away.  At  night the buildings which make up the city, would light up the sky  and sounds of the wind and traffic  would hide  between the conversations and smiles.  This was our Sanctuary.  In one part of Brooklyn Heights,  which would  have  seemed  like a ghost town  to some,  children who went to school’s such as  Saint Anne’s,  Packer  and  Brooklyn Friend’s would meet,  not  to forget  other’s  such as myself,  who went to school in the city, but  still  lived in Brooklyn Heights.  Just  as teens would sit upon stoops and drink beer out of forty ounce bottles,  smoking cigarettes,   blindly staring their future in the eye’s  all while  discussing  solutions for all  the world’s problems in a naive  yet  still  ideal tone.  This was our stoop.  We called it the U.T.B. We would gather on Friday nights,  by the dozens.  Skaters,  graffiti artists,  ravers  and of course  your  stereo typical  “Cool Hippy Chicks”.  Such a  truly diverse crowd.   For most Brooklyn Heights natives, there are no words that could explain the impact  the bridge would have.  There is almost a spiritual  element that exists.  Maybe it was just a mutual feeling in the air,  but every face within the great  circle  could understand and appreciate whatever  it was.  This would lead to the release of one’s  guard,  the relaxing feeling of being one within a  crowd of people  and having the same love for the scenery.  I  would hear friends talk about other sites of New York,  such as  the Cloisters in the Bronx or the abandoned docks of Van Brunt in Red Hook.  You could walk  through these places and feel the same type of energy.  Maybe it was the desolation of  each  neighborhood.  The kinds of places you would almost feel threatened to sit and stay,  yet  at the same time, appreciate it’s beauty  which lured you to stay.  The feeling of security without truly being secure,  almost  like the feeling you get  when  sitting  atop  someone’s  roof .  A  stunning site  just as  precious as it is dangerous.   It’s been about  a decade since the  U.T.B.  was  shutdown,  but  I  can still  remember every  inch,  crevice and crack.  Beautiful memories  of  walking  along the cobble stones,  the seven different shades of grey which made up the somber  looking structure of a bridge.  I  remember  sitting  by the water  on top  a white cold  rail,  which lead you from one side of the abandoned  lot ,  all the way down to the other.  Sometimes I  would sit there for hours,  with  no one around.  Imagining and drawing up  such great expectations  for  my  future,   as most of us did.  No matter where I was emotionally the bridge  always  influenced  the  process of  my  self-development.  Because of  the  Brooklyn Bridge,  I  have  found shelter where there was no shelter.  A  great  love for something that  only a  few will be  able to feel,  for that era is gone  and last but certainly not  least,  appreciation for  who I am, where I’ve been and where you and I are headed.  That is joy my friend.  Till  this day  I  make travels into the neighborhood,  which is now referred to as  D.U.M.B.O.   I  gaze at  a new population.  They push strollers down  streets  that still seem darkened  and  gloomy  to me,   They drink in bars and eat at restaurants,   where I  still see shadows  of  alley cats running  down the street. It will forever  be more than  they  can  see.   It will forever be changed.  It is a time  at it’s best.   For every decade  who had the privilege to  roam  under the bridge,  I’m sure the memories  are held close to their hearts.   I can’t begin to imagine how many people have felt the  same connection  my friends and I shared  and  still feel.  I hope it’s something that none of us ever lose,   cause at least for me,  the U.T.B.  shall always  be the reminder  of  who I am.  The End We want to know what brings you JOY. Find instructions here and you’ll be entered in our “All Your Joy” contest, in conjunction with Matt’s new album, The Build, available May 1st. Have a joyful Thursday. Take a look!
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mattsingermusic:

Today’s “All Your Joy” submission is a moving piece by Isaac Daniel Perez. He paints a vivid picture of his childhood memories growing up in Brooklyn and what brought him JOY during those years. Please, have a read…                                       

                                      Under The Bridge: By Isaac Daniel Perez

I grew up  in Brooklyn Heights, New York.  At a time when the neighborhood was filled with faces of all colors, cultures  and creeds.  From doctors to teachers, Muslim’s to Jehovah’s Witnesses,  you had to be quite daft to be prejudice, where I was raised.   I went to Public School Eight,  located on the corner of  Middagh and Hicks St.  which till this day makes me cringe, when it comes to mind.  From the teachers  to the smell of the lunchroom,   just the thought  brings  back some of the worst memories a child could have.  I  can still remember the faces of each teacher who literally told, a ten year old version of myself,  that I would never amount to anything, thank you Ms. Cooper and Ms. Reichbach.   But this isn’t a written piece about what school did what to who, or even a complaint shy of twenty years.  This is a keeping,  if you will.  A  work in progress.  This is about  the escape from the bad times and the hiding place us kids would go.  A place where the night was meant  for laughs,  and the days would only lead to reflections.  

An Anchorage stands at the foot of Old  Fulton,  behind a rusty, chained gate.  Hundreds of cold cobble stones laid before  a picture perfect  view of Pier 17.  The  Brooklyn Bridge hangs overhead and what appears to be an empty lot,  is actually  filled with clairvoyant moments and endless memories.   As you gaze over the East  River,  you can see the Manhattan traffic heading back and away.  At  night the buildings which make up the city, would light up the sky  and sounds of the wind and traffic  would hide  between the conversations and smiles.  This was our Sanctuary.  In one part of Brooklyn Heights,  which would  have  seemed  like a ghost town  to some,  children who went to school’s such as  Saint Anne’s,  Packer  and  Brooklyn Friend’s would meet,  not  to forget  other’s  such as myself,  who went to school in the city, but  still  lived in Brooklyn Heights.  Just  as teens would sit upon stoops and drink beer out of forty ounce bottles,  smoking cigarettes,   blindly staring their future in the eye’s  all while  discussing  solutions for all  the world’s problems in a naive  yet  still  ideal tone.  This was our stoop.  We called it the U.T.B.

We would gather on Friday nights,  by the dozens.  Skaters,  graffiti artists,  ravers  and of course  your  stereo typical  “Cool Hippy Chicks”.  Such a  truly diverse crowd.   For most Brooklyn Heights natives, there are no words that could explain the impact  the bridge would have.  There is almost a spiritual  element that exists.  Maybe it was just a mutual feeling in the air,  but every face within the great  circle  could understand and appreciate whatever  it was.  This would lead to the release of one’s  guard,  the relaxing feeling of being one within a  crowd of people  and having the same love for the scenery.  I  would hear friends talk about other sites of New York,  such as  the Cloisters in the Bronx or the abandoned docks of Van Brunt in Red Hook.  You could walk  through these places and feel the same type of energy.  Maybe it was the desolation of  each  neighborhood.  The kinds of places you would almost feel threatened to sit and stay,  yet  at the same time, appreciate it’s beauty  which lured you to stay.  The feeling of security without truly being secure,  almost  like the feeling you get  when  sitting  atop  someone’s  roof .  A  stunning site  just as  precious as it is dangerous.  

It’s been about  a decade since the  U.T.B.  was  shutdown,  but  I  can still  remember every  inch,  crevice and crack.  Beautiful memories  of  walking  along the cobble stones,  the seven different shades of grey which made up the somber  looking structure of a bridge.  I  remember  sitting  by the water  on top  a white cold  rail,  which lead you from one side of the abandoned  lot ,  all the way down to the other.  Sometimes I  would sit there for hours,  with  no one around.  Imagining and drawing up  such great expectations  for  my  future,   as most of us did.  No matter where I was emotionally the bridge  always  influenced  the  process of  my  self-development.  Because of  the  Brooklyn Bridge,  I  have  found shelter where there was no shelter.  A  great  love for something that  only a  few will be  able to feel,  for that era is gone  and last but certainly not  least,  appreciation for  who I am, where I’ve been and where you and I are headed.  That is joy my friend. 

Till  this day  I  make travels into the neighborhood,  which is now referred to as  D.U.M.B.O.   I  gaze at  a new population.  They push strollers down  streets  that still seem darkened  and  gloomy  to me,   They drink in bars and eat at restaurants,   where I  still see shadows  of  alley cats running  down the street. It will forever  be more than  they  can  see.   It will forever be changed.  It is a time  at it’s best.   For every decade  who had the privilege to  roam  under the bridge,  I’m sure the memories  are held close to their hearts.   I can’t begin to imagine how many people have felt the  same connection  my friends and I shared  and  still feel.  I hope it’s something that none of us ever lose,   cause at least for me,  the U.T.B.  shall always  be the reminder  of  who I am.  The End

We want to know what brings you JOY. Find instructions here and you’ll be entered in our “All Your Joy” contest, in conjunction with Matt’s new album, The Build, available May 1st.

Have a joyful Thursday. Take a look!

Source: mattsingermusic

Presenting the latest submission for Matt Singer’s “All Your Joy” contest, from Ms. Kerri Doherty! mattsingermusic: Here’s the latest submission for the “All Your Joy” contest!  Ms. Kerry Doherty has sent us an essay describing one of her very joyful moments.  You can participate in the “All Your Joy” contest right here. “All Your Joy” is in conjunction with “All This Joy,” which is available for download right here. FINDING JOY IN A SOUR TINKERBELL By Kerri Doherty  In 7th grade I was cast to play Tinkerbell in Peter Pan as part of the Carver High School annual fall play. I was ecstatic at the thought of donning a sparkly outfit and wearing my hair in a high ponytail. Most of all, I was looking forward to being funny. At that age I wasn’t the most confident kid – I was plagued with awkward facial tics and my love for sugary treats often left me bouncing off the walls. But when I wasn’t blinking a mile a minute or petting someone’s cat too hard, I knew how to make people laugh (OK, so it was just my family, and only when I came to the dinner table in character as Steve Urkel, but I was still determined to make the entire school pee themselves over the hilarity of my performance).  On the first day of rehearsals, the entire cast of Peter Pan did a full read through of the script. This was led by the play’s two directors, senior class students named Nick and Erin. As each scene went by, I realized that not only was Tink a very unfunny character, she was kind of a sour bitch.  Nevertheless, I put my heart into each rehearsal, excited to be a part of something big.  On opening night I nervously snuck a peek at the audience just before show time. It was a packed house. As the curtain rose and I took the stage, I played Tink straight, like I was supposed to. When we reached the scene toward the end of the play where Tink drinks a vial of poison to save Peter, I made a decision. I was going to play it funny.  I looked out into the audience and saw the two directors smiling back at me. I’d always taken their direction. But I had to do this. When the time came, I snatched the poison from the boy in the green tights and funny cap, drank it and fainted, just like I’d practiced.  Peter bent down, frightened. “Tink,” he exclaimed, a worried look plaguing his shiny face. “Are you OK?”  At this point I was supposed to dramatically stage whisper, “I took the poison, Peter. And now I’m going to die.” Upon hearing this, Peter becomes visibly upset and turns to the audience, begging them to clap so that I may be revived. The audience claps, and as the sound gets louder, I jump back up, revived. Peter and I hug and the curtains come down.  Instead, when Peter asked, “Tink, are you OK?” I hopped up onto my elbows. “No, Peter.” I said flatly. “I took the poison. And now —” here I slowly and dramatically put my hand to my head and returned my head to the floor. “I’m dying.”  “Let’s save Tinkerbell!” He begged the audience. “Clap your hands if you want to save Tink!”  There was a split second of hesitation from the crowd, so I quickly sat up and glared at them.  “CLAP!” I demanded, then quickly put my head back down. The audience laughed and cheered loudly. As the sound of their enthusiastic claps became deafening, I jumped up and bowed, mouthing the words, “Thank You.” I blew a few kisses to the audience. Instead of hugging Peter, I shoved him. Hard.  “You’re welcome,” I scoffed at him, and walked offstage.  The audience roared again.  As soon as I got backstage I performed a series of celebratory dance moves. I’d never felt such exhileration. The decision to make the character of Tink my own was one of the first instances that I can recall in which I followed my own creative instincts. 17 years later, the moment still brings me such great joy.  (Side note: If anyone from Carver High School’s theater department is reading this, I heard a rumor that once, before rehearsal, two fellow students may or may not have had “relations” inside Tinkerbell’s giant clock. If you know anything about this, please let me know. I spent a lot of time in that clock and would like some closure.)
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Presenting the latest submission for Matt Singer’s “All Your Joy” contest, from Ms. Kerri Doherty!

mattsingermusic:

Here’s the latest submission for the “All Your Joy” contest!  Ms. Kerry Doherty has sent us an essay describing one of her very joyful moments.  You can participate in the “All Your Joy” contest right here.

“All Your Joy” is in conjunction with “All This Joy,” which is available for download right here.

FINDING JOY IN A SOUR TINKERBELL

By Kerri Doherty

 In 7th grade I was cast to play Tinkerbell in Peter Pan as part of the Carver High School annual fall play. I was ecstatic at the thought of donning a sparkly outfit and wearing my hair in a high ponytail. Most of all, I was looking forward to being funny. At that age I wasn’t the most confident kid – I was plagued with awkward facial tics and my love for sugary treats often left me bouncing off the walls. But when I wasn’t blinking a mile a minute or petting someone’s cat too hard, I knew how to make people laugh (OK, so it was just my family, and only when I came to the dinner table in character as Steve Urkel, but I was still determined to make the entire school pee themselves over the hilarity of my performance).

 On the first day of rehearsals, the entire cast of Peter Pan did a full read through of the script. This was led by the play’s two directors, senior class students named Nick and Erin. As each scene went by, I realized that not only was Tink a very unfunny character, she was kind of a sour bitch.

 Nevertheless, I put my heart into each rehearsal, excited to be a part of something big.

 On opening night I nervously snuck a peek at the audience just before show time. It was a packed house. As the curtain rose and I took the stage, I played Tink straight, like I was supposed to. When we reached the scene toward the end of the play where Tink drinks a vial of poison to save Peter, I made a decision. I was going to play it funny.

 I looked out into the audience and saw the two directors smiling back at me. I’d always taken their direction. But I had to do this. When the time came, I snatched the poison from the boy in the green tights and funny cap, drank it and fainted, just like I’d practiced.

 Peter bent down, frightened. “Tink,” he exclaimed, a worried look plaguing his shiny face. “Are you OK?”

 At this point I was supposed to dramatically stage whisper, “I took the poison, Peter. And now I’m going to die.” Upon hearing this, Peter becomes visibly upset and turns to the audience, begging them to clap so that I may be revived. The audience claps, and as the sound gets louder, I jump back up, revived. Peter and I hug and the curtains come down.

 Instead, when Peter asked, “Tink, are you OK?” I hopped up onto my elbows. “No, Peter.” I said flatly. “I took the poison. And now —” here I slowly and dramatically put my hand to my head and returned my head to the floor. “I’m dying.”

 “Let’s save Tinkerbell!” He begged the audience. “Clap your hands if you want to save Tink!”

 There was a split second of hesitation from the crowd, so I quickly sat up and glared at them.

 “CLAP!” I demanded, then quickly put my head back down. The audience laughed and cheered loudly. As the sound of their enthusiastic claps became deafening, I jumped up and bowed, mouthing the words, “Thank You.” I blew a few kisses to the audience. Instead of hugging Peter, I shoved him. Hard.

 “You’re welcome,” I scoffed at him, and walked offstage.

 The audience roared again.

 As soon as I got backstage I performed a series of celebratory dance moves. I’d never felt such exhileration. The decision to make the character of Tink my own was one of the first instances that I can recall in which I followed my own creative instincts. 17 years later, the moment still brings me such great joy.

 (Side note: If anyone from Carver High School’s theater department is reading this, I heard a rumor that once, before rehearsal, two fellow students may or may not have had “relations” inside Tinkerbell’s giant clock. If you know anything about this, please let me know. I spent a lot of time in that clock and would like some closure.)

Source: mattsingermusic

[Flash 10 is required to watch video]

Presenting the first submission for Matt Singer’s “All Your Joy” contest, from Ms. Kelly Neel!

mattsingermusic:

We have the first submission for the “All Your Joy” contest!  Ms. Kelly Neel has sent us a video showing off joy, photography - and we want to share her joy with you!  You can participate in the “All Your Joy” contest right here.

“All Your Joy” is in conjunction with “All This Joy,” which is available for download right here.

Source: mattsingermusic

We are pleased to announce the “All Your Joy” contest, in conjunction with the release of Matt Singer’s new single, “All This Joy.” This amazing video is a submission example!  Full instructions below, and check out the official contest page right here.

All Your Joy - Instructions & Examples

What Is “All Your Joy” About?
We are building up to the single and video premier for Matt Singer’s “All This Joy” and we are thrilled to tell you about All Your Joy!: A new project of reflection, sharing and rejoicing. All Your Joy fits right into the Family Records mission, which is to positively affect the lives of as many people as possible through music.

How And When Do You Enter To Win?
Starting March 21st and for the next four weeks, we invite you to think about your own experience of true joy, capture it in a format of your choice and share it with us!  We will accept your joyful moment entries, store them in our joy vault and submit them to our Family Records Joy Committee. Send them to: allyourjoy@thefamilyrecords.com

What Can I Win?
On April 23rd, we will elect our winner(s), who will receive a mystery Joy Pack, which will include a copy of “The Build”, a hand-crafted winter edition version of finger puppet of Martin the squirrel (only one exists!), as seen on the new web series “Matt and Martin,” and a pizza date with Matt in NYC*.

What Should My Entry Look Like? (see below for examples)
Entries may be submitted in one of four formats:

  • A written piece (like a letter!), 500 words or less.
  • A photo with accompanying description, 500 words or less.
  • An audio clip, think This American Life, under 3 minutes. Don’t worry about the audio quality or how you hate the sound of your own voice.
  • A video, as simple as you just talking into the camera, under 3 minutes.

What Else?
Please spread the word on this project by tweeting, e-mailing, facebooking, pinteresting, and whatever other way you may have, to help us spread the joy. If you use a pigeon, you’re totally getting bonus points.


Examples?
Audio

Video

Love,

Matt and the Family team

* The winner will have to get themselves to NYC, and if that’s not possible it will be a Skype pizza date.

Our friends at Short and Sweet NYC are currently running a contest to win a Casey Shea prize pack!  Win a t-shirt and CD in promotion of THIS FRIDAY’s totally free show at Rockwood Music Hall.  Click here to enter! 01.27 Rockwood Music Hall (Stage 2), 11pm (New York, NY) [ FREE ]
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Our friends at Short and Sweet NYC are currently running a contest to win a Casey Shea prize pack!  Win a t-shirt and CD in promotion of THIS FRIDAY’s totally free show at Rockwood Music Hall.  Click here to enter!

01.27 Rockwood Music Hall (Stage 2), 11pm (New York, NY) [ FREE ]

Having trouble finding that perfect cup of cheer for the pearl in your life? Look no further! Purchase Pearl and the Beard’s “Killing the Darlings” album, before Christmas, from our store, and enter to WIN a signed copy of this super limited-edition “glasses” poster. It’s one of five made and the only one to go public! HURRY! Visit store.thefamilyrecords.com AND make sure to send your purchase number to erin[at]thefamilyrecords[dot]com. Contest ends December 24th at midnight. GOOD LUCK!
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Having trouble finding that perfect cup of cheer for the pearl in your life? Look no further! Purchase Pearl and the Beard’s “Killing the Darlings” album, before Christmas, from our store, and enter to WIN a signed copy of this super limited-edition “glasses” poster. It’s one of five made and the only one to go public! HURRY!

Visit store.thefamilyrecords.com AND make sure to send your purchase number to erin[at]thefamilyrecords[dot]com. Contest ends December 24th at midnight.

GOOD LUCK!

Indaba Music Loft is currently running a mashup contest featuring a “musical idea” by our very own Pearl and the Beard.  Enter to win some awesome prizes - contest details, instructions, and prizes listed here!
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Indaba Music Loft is currently running a mashup contest featuring a “musical idea” by our very own Pearl and the Beard.  Enter to win some awesome prizes - contest details, instructions, and prizes listed here!

Flavorpill is giving away the chance to win a pair of tickets to the Family Records Holiday Extravaganza!  All you have to do is answer one trivia question about the enigmatic Casey Shea.  Are you up for the challenge? If all else fails, tickets are still available here. The Family Records Holiday Extravaganza! 12.15 Bowery Ballroom, 7pm (New York, NY) [ TIX ]
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Flavorpill is giving away the chance to win a pair of tickets to the Family Records Holiday Extravaganza!  All you have to do is answer one trivia question about the enigmatic Casey Shea.  Are you up for the challenge?

If all else fails, tickets are still available here.

The Family Records Holiday Extravaganza!

12.15 Bowery Ballroom, 7pm (New York, NY) [ TIX ]