Six Count

From the producers’ studio at Chatham Street Records: Michael Pelz-Sherman and Hal Goodtree

Episode Summary

Pianist Michael Pelz-Sherman and multi-instrumentalist Hal Goodtree joined Six Count at Chatham Street Records, an indie record label in Cary, North Carolina. The label supports local artists through artist management, fair-share royalty collection, music production, and distribution.

Episode Notes

Pianist Michael Pelz-Sherman and multi-instrumentalist Hal Goodtree joined Six Count at Chatham Street Records, an indie record label in Cary, North Carolina. The label supports local artists through artist management, fair-share royalty collection, music production, and distribution. 

Michael and Hal’s next album, “Notes from the Suburbs,” released November 8. Follow the Lounge Doctors on Spotify.

About Michael

A jazz fusion enthusiast, Michael has been playing jazz, blues, and R&B in Raleigh since moving back to the Triangle in 2006. 

The musician received his bachelor’s in composition and piano from Indiana University Bloomington (1986) and his PhD in musicology and ethnomusicology from the University of California, San Diego (1994).

Michael plays regularly with the North Carolina Jazz Ensemble and as a rehearsal accompanist for the Carolina Ballet in Raleigh. For his day job, he’s a software engineer at Nextiva and a co-producer at Chatham Street Records.

In this episode, Michael shares about his early career days touring the Midwest with a Top 40 cover band; collaborating with Swedish composer Klas Torstensson at IRCAM, a Paris-based institute (associated with the Centre Pompidou) dedicated to music and sound research; working in the Bay Area tech scene after the dot-com crash in 2000; his current musical work around the Triangle, and more.

Follow Michael on Facebook or YouTube.

You can catch him at the Hayti Heritage Center’s annual Christmas concert with the North Carolina Jazz Ensemble this December.

About Hal

Hal (bassist, vocalist, guitarist, and songwriter) is the general manager and executive producer at Chatham Street Records and a filmmaker and photographer at Goodtree.Studio, where he specializes in high-end architecture, food, and events. 

Hal is the writer and producer of Shaw Rising, a documentary about Raleigh’s Shaw University, the oldest Historically black university in the South. The film won the Midsouth Regional Emmy Award in 2021 and is now streamable on PBS. His documentary, “Because No One Else Would: American Tobacco and the Durham Renaissance,” won Best Short Documentary at the 2015 Longleaf Film Festival at the North Carolina Museum of History. 

For the past seven years, he’s taught at the Center for Documentary Studies at Duke University in filmmaking and photography. He was also the publisher for the online newspaper CaryCitizen for more than a decade.

Hal received his bachelor’s in history from Rutgers University—New Brunswick in 1980. He’s a member of the National Academy of Television Arts & Sciences, the American Society of Composers & Publishers, Directors Guild of America, the Cary Chamber of Commerce. 

Music credits

This episode features “Blue Winter” from the album Goes Without Saying (2012), by Michael (piano), E. Scott Warren (bass), and Charles Barchuk (drums), as well as “Typology,” by the Lounge Doctors.

This season features the songs “Forged in Rhythm” and “Callous & Kind” by Keenan McKenzie & The Riffers (2017), used by Six Count with permission from the artist.

How to listen

You can find Six Count on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or any other listening app!

Support the show

If you’d like to support Six Count, you can make a gift on DonorBox or Venmo @thexarawilde.

Episode Transcription

Xara: 

Michael and Hal, thank you both for joining Six Count this evening.

Hal: 

Thank you for having us. 

Michael: 

Yes.

Xara: 

We’re here at Chatham Street Records, an indie record label in Cary and Hal’s home recording studio. During the pandemic, I think many of us sought creative ways to make the most of our living spaces. Was that the case for you, Hal, or what made you decide to open a music production company, it looked like earlier this year? 

Hal: 

You know, like a lot of things in music, it was a series of fortunate, or unfortunate, events, depending upon how you want to think about it. Every year, at the end of the year, like a lot of married couples, my wife and I kind of look at, “Okay, what’s going on for the next year, where are we with our money, what are we going to do, what are we going to keep doing the same, what are we going to change up?” You saw some of my wife’s, Lindsey Chester’s, artwork on the way in. She wanted to lean more into her artwork, and I wanted to lean more into my music. I registered the paperwork at the very end of last year. And at the time, we were running an online newspaper for Cary we’d founded 12 years previously. 

Michael: 

“We” being Hal and Lindsey, not me. I was not involved.

Hal: 

We were running this, and we had a full-time writer, who came in five times a week. And I don’t know . . . We slipped away to go to Mexico. We came back and she said, “I’ve been offered a job by CBS 17.” So, we said, “Well, I guess we’re really going to lean into that art and music thing we started in January.” And that’s how we got here. But in terms of working at home, I’ve been an independent producer since the late 90s, so, I’ve always liked the idea of using your space in different ways. And like a lot of, you know . . . I’m a gym rat, so I hang out at the gym. I’m a studio rat, I like to hang out in the studio. And when the spirit moves ya, you plug some stuff in and make a record. 

Xara: 

Hmm. And Michael, you joined Hal pretty soon since you started producing here officially as Chatham Street Records. Can you share about how you two met, which I understand was quite a while ago, and decided to work together on music, and then later in this production capacity? 

Hal: 

Prison. 

Xara: 

Prison? 

Michael:

Uh, no. 

Xara: 

Partners in crime, then. 

Michael: 

We met because my daughter and Hal’s daughter are the same age, and they were going to the same elementary school? 

Hal: 

It was Davis Drive Elementary School. 

Michael: 

Really? 

Hal: 

Davis Drive. 

Michael: 

Hmm. Well, at any rate, they were going to the same school. They got to know each other, and they were just talking, like, “Yeah, my dad is in a band.” And Zoey was like, “Oh, yeah, my dad plays piano.” And somehow, they got us kind of connected. That’s how I’m remembering it. 

Hal: 

No, no, that’s not how I’m remembering it. So, Zoey would come over. 

Michael: 

Right. 

Hal: 

And they were supposed to do their homework before they could fool around. But that wasn’t working out, and there was some acrimony at some point, like, “Who’s your father; what’s his number?” (Because I’m from New York.) “Who’s your father; what’s his number?” And you came over, and you saw I had a Guild Polaris (a nice guitar) sitting in the corner. And Michael, innocently enough—Dr. Michael, PhD of Music—is like, “Oh, you play a musical instrument?” And I was like, “Oh, hell yeah. I’m in a blues band and we’re having a show this Saturday out on my back porch. Wanna come over?” And that’s kind of how it went. 

Michael: 

That’s how it started. So, yeah. At the time, Hal, he had a group, a blues band called A Fifth of Blues. Although, if Larry were here, he’d say it was his band. 

Hal: 

Larry doesn’t listen to podcasts. 

Michael: 

That’s true. 

Hal: 

Podcasts are way too elitist for Larry. 

Michael: 

The leader of the group was Larry O’Connor. A very fine blues guitarist. 

Hal: 

“Lonesome Larry.” 

Michael: 

“Lonesome Larry.” Everybody in the band had a nickname. 

Hal: 

Larry’s really . . . He’s called that everywhere.

Michael: 

Oh, really? 

Hal: 

The rest of us just had made-up names. 

Michael: 

Oh, I didn’t know. 

Hal: 

No, he has real cred because he is “Lonesome Larry.”

Michael: 

Yeah, it fits. But anyway, it was a good band. I had a good time. And then Hal, I don’t know, somebody, maybe Larry, asked, “Do you want to be in the band?” I was like, “Yeah, that sounds good.” Because at the time, I wasn’t really doing much. I’d moved recently to Cary, and I didn’t know that many people. And we played for what, five years? 

Hal: 

Five, six years. 

Michael: 

Had a good run. 

Hal: 

Until 2007, probably. 2008.

Michael: 

That sounds about right. 

Hal: 

And then we started just on the side, Michael would come over, and we’d play non-blues material. 

Xara: 

Like what? 

Hal: 

Oh, I mean, one of our first recordings is us doing kind of a hillbilly shuffle version of Pink Floyd. 

Michael: 

That’s right. 

(Hal and Michael, singing in unison)

“The lunatic is on the grass. The lunatic is on the grass.” 

Michael: 

Stuff like that, or Neil Young tunes. 

Hal: 

That was fun, and it was sort of instant karma with the music. And then we started playing out for a few people, and then we started playing in bars.

Michael: 

I think there was a point when the blues band sort of, well . . .

Hal: 

Imploded? 

Michael: 

Sadly, the drummer, met his untimely death, and that was kind of it for the band, right?

Hal: 

I think it blew up before. Our good friend, Gary Goodell. I mean, we did mention to Xara that it was a blues band, so it’s sort of implied that it was going to explode under its own weight as some point. 

Michael: 

Yeah, it’s hard to keep a band together, no matter what, especially a blues band.

Hal: 

Well, as I used to say to the guys, “We play the blues. You don’t have to live the blues.” 

Xara: 

Well then what would you sing about?

Hal: 

I think we all actually . . . This is a serious question. I think we all have, you know, our own versions of the blues. And the thing is, rich man, poor man, you know, lady . . . Anybody can have it. That’s what’s universal about the blues, and that’s where you get it. But you don’t have to go around, like, one of our bandmates once called me—I’m not going to say who; it’s not Michael—the night after a gig. No “hello,” just said, “Where am I?” Like, “I don’t know. Can you describe the locale?” And he said, “There’s trees in a row, woods, I can’t really see much else.” And I’m like, “No, then I cannot help you.” And somehow or another, the night after a gig, he woke up in his car with no shoes, no shirt, no wallet. 

Xara: 

That does sound like a blues song. 

Hal: 

That it does sound like a blues song, doesn’t it? 

But this guy, being a good talker, went to a gas station, talked them into giving him some gas. They gave him some gas, he went home. The wallet was at the bar. The shirt and the shoes? Mystery. But the answer to that question is that when someone says after a gig, “Hey, wanna take this?” Don’t do that. So, yeah, you don’t have to live the blues. 

Xara: 

And you both have talked about blues a bit just now, so I want to hear about your background, which I know sometimes can be like the question, “Where are you from?” which gets increasingly complex over time. But can you give listeners a bit into your experiences?

Michael: 

I started playing piano at the age of seven. I did the traditional, took piano lessons. And then, around my mid-teen years, I started to get interested in jazz. We had a good jazz program at our school. That was kind of my introduction to jazz through the jazz ensemble at high school. 

I got into improvising at the piano just on my own and in listening to a lot of rock and roll, and all kinds of different music: blues, jazz, whatever. The time I hit, I don’t know, maybe sixteen was about the time I decided I really wanted to pursue music as a career. So, I did what I thought was the right thing to do: go to music school and get a degree, because it seemed like a good idea. There wasn’t really anything else I really wanted to do with my life at the time. My father wisely insisted I go to a school where I could get a well-rounded education. I kind of wanted to go to Berklee in Boston and just do jazz. But he was like, “No.” 

So, I auditioned at several schools. I got accepted to Indiana University for composition, but they said, “You have to work on your piano a little bit. We’ll let you in, start taking classes, but we want you to re-audition on piano.” So, they really held my feet to the fire and made me learn Beethoven and all the classics and practice six, seven hours a day for a while there, just to get in. Finally, at my third audition, they said, “Okay, you’re in.” 

At the time, I was still playing in bands on the side. Before I graduated, I signed on to work full time with a band that was touring the Midwest. It was more or less a cover band, Top 40, we had a couple of originals, but it was mostly Top 40 songs. Good band, good horn section. We were traveling all over. We were based out of Bloomington, Indiana, but we played Nashville, Minneapolis, had “roadies” and everything. For about a year. And then I couldn’t do it anymore. My girlfriend at the time, fiancée, whatever, and I both decided to move to Minnesota. Fast forward through a bunch of things. I ended up deciding to go to grad school in California, learned how to code, but also got a PhD in music kind of along the way. I did some work as a computer music gopher. They called it a “musical assistant,” you know, “assistant musical.” 

Hal: 

En France?

Michael: 

Yeah, in Paris. 

Hal: 

That’s the best part of the story.

Michael: 

So that was fantastic. I lived in France for about a year. It was kind of off-and-on for a while, three months on, three months off, because they had some visa issues. I was part of a premiere for a brand-new piece. There was a composer from Amsterdam. His name was Klas Torstensson. He’s huge in the Netherlands. He’s well-known over there.

Hal: 

Rockstar. 

Michael: 

Over here, not so much. But he was a great guy. He’d have these samples, he’d go out and record stuff, and he’d be like, “Okay, I want you to take this sample and morph it into a bell sound.” He’d record ice-cracking on a lake, and he’d be like, “Yeah, can you spacialize this so it goes around the room.” It was fun. 

Hal: 

That’s cool stuff. 

Michael: 

It was, it was great. It was called IRCAM, the place where I worked, the “Institute for Research in Computing and Music,” is how it translates. Great place. Pierre Boulez, the composer, founded it back in the 70s? So, it’s been there a long time. 

Hal: 

Is he the same person as Pierre Boulez?

Michael: 

Yeah, same guy. The place was incredible. But again, had to make a living. So, I got back into coding. Ended up moving to Raleigh because of a job that I had with the postal service in the IT department of the postal service, back in 1998. And then, the dot com thing happened. Everybody was sort of telling me, “Oh, go out to the Bay Area; that’s where it’s all happening. You gotta get out there.” So, I went out there in 2000, and the dot com thing, it burst right as soon as I got there. I was on the job, and literally a couple weeks later, companies were starting to implode right and left. 

Xara: 

Oh, wow. 

Michael: 

It was scary. It was a weird time to be there. But as it turned out, I ended up being there for six years. I managed to stick it out and did all right. And I played some music over there and got involved in a few things. But I had young kids, three very young kids there, and it was a busy time for the family. So wasn’t doing a whole lot there musically and came back here after my job ended. They got bought and I ended up moving back here. I had a great opportunity to come back. And yeah, I haven’t really looked back since. We moved so many times that we finally kind of settled down somewhere. Raleigh, and the whole Triangle area, has turned out to be a really great place for music, as it turns out. Sort of surprisingly so. I mean, this whole area has . . . Historically, there’s a rich tradition. So many great musicians are from this area. 

Hal: 

Billy Strayhorn was from Hillsborough.

Michael: 

Wasn’t Monk from around here, I believe?

Xara: 

Coltrane. 

Michael: 

Actually, I was playing one night at C. Grace and some lady came up to me and said, “You know, I’m Billy Strayhorn’s great niece.” 

Hal: 

No.

Xara: 

Wow. 

Michael: 

And I had played, “Lush Life,” that night. And she was like, “Thank you for playing that song. I love that song.” 

I was just like, woah. 

Hal: 

You never told me that.

Michael: 

Yeah, man, that was a great moment. I’ve tried a lot of different things in my music career, I’ve done a lot of different things. I’m kind of an omnivore when it comes to music. I look at music like I look of food. If you just have one kind of food all the time, it’s boring. And you know, why not try some other kinds of food. There’re so many great kinds of music out there in the world. And I love to combine fusions. I love jazz fusion. If I had to pick one genre, it’s probably fusion.

Xara: 

And Hal, you’ve also had a very varied background, so I’d love to hear specifically the kind of music you’ve dabbled in, and then your kind of focus now. Or, like Michael, is it more the diversity of music that kind of defines your work? 

Hal: 

Unlike Michael, I’ve had no formal training in music. What motivated me to play guitar was the fifth and last appearance of The Beatles on the Ed Sullivan show. They were playing, “I feel fine.” 

(Hal mimics guitar sounds from song.)

I’m like, I gotta do that. I must’ve been like second grade. And I carried a shell that looked like a guitar pick in my pocket for two years, until my hands got big enough and a guitar showed up. The guitar was my sister’s, my older sister, Beth, and she didn’t want me to play her guitar. There was always a fight about the guitar, but it was hers. Eventually, my parents figured out really the correct parental strategy, which is, buy a new instrument for the older child and let the younger one, you know . . . So, then I had that guitar. The thing that really influenced me was folk rock. The Laurel Canyon sound. The birds, buffalo spring field, the mammas, and the papas. I love vocal harmonies. My first professional gig, paid gig, was when I was fifteen. 

Xara: 

That’s young. 

Hal: 

And we got fifteen dollars. I was like, I’m never going back. I’m a professional now. Except for taking a few years off after high school, I was more in the folk-singing bag. I had not even played an electric guitar before I to college, but I was sick of the music scene, the music business.

Xara: 

How come?

Hal: 

Back when I was in high school, if they had multiple bands on the ticket, you had to wait until the end of the night to collect. So, if you were the second band, you’d have to wait for hours. And then you get a hassle from the bar owner, and you were a kid, what were you going to do? So, I was like . . . I mean, it was college. I had a lot going on. I had a sports scholarship, I was in a fraternity, I had a girlfriend, I had a lot going on. And I was like, I’m just going to do music for my own enjoyment, I don’t really need to get involved in all this funky business. 

I ended up getting back into the band scene in my first job in television, where it was a big ad agency, and they had a few agency bands. The guy who organized the band had a country gig, and it was very successful in New York. We were one of two country music bands in New York City. And we played at some great venues. The tele I had back there, we won a band competition in country music. 

And then when we moved down here, again, I just did some recording for a few years. I also had kids who were young, but then I got back into bands in 2004. And at that time, there was very little music scene. A lot of places that are venues now, we played in when they had never had a band before. They’d have to move out some tables, and they were, you know, but no drum kit. Like Abbey Road, I mean we played at Abbey Road. They moved out one of the booths. The drummer had to use a conga the whole time. By the end of the show, his fingers were the size of sausages. Shout-out to my friend, Scott Carr. I played in a whole mess of bands, always been interested in composition. 

And as television producer, I’ve made 500 or more soundtracks at all kinds of great studios. Had the chance to work with fabulous musicians and great engineers. But as a producer, you’re not just an observer. The thing you have to develop is your ears. And your ears are the most important thing when you mix. I’ve always been interested in technology. Even as a producer, I want to know how things work. I want to be able to do them. 

I’m in the Directors Guild of America as a first assistant director. I’m also in the National Academy of Arts and Sciences, and of course, the American Society of Composers, Authors, and Publishers. So, yeah, I like to study up on stuff and figure it out. I consider listening to music as part of my job. And certainly, as television producer, I mean, I will sit down and listen to music. It will be for 20 minutes or a half hour, but I know, for example, that when I’m listening to stock music, I can listen to approximately 2,000 samples in 20 minutes. And I know this because there’s about 100 per page, and I can do about 20 pages. So, for you musicians out there, you gotta bury the hook fast. 

Xara: 

What do you mean by that?

Hal: 

You know, I think in any kind of music, the audience really has to know you and trust you and believe in you to listen to a minute of preamble before you get to the song. And you hear that most music you hear on Spotify, it’s four bars and somebody singing.

Michael: 

Especially today. Music is getting shorter and shorter. It’s gotten to where . . . Yeah, a lot of the most popular tunes on Spotify are like a minute long.

Hal: 

A minute?

Michael:

That’s what I’ve heard. Yeah, I think that’s probably truer today than it ever has been but maybe it’s always been the case. 

Hal: 

I think it’s always been true. If you listen to pop music from the 50s, they’re getting to it quick. The thing is, too, for musicians and for artists: don’t be discouraged. Because when I go looking for something in 2,000 samples of music, I probably already have something in mind. I always tell students that music carries the emotional content of a movie. And just by changing the music, you can change the meaning of a scene. So, if I’m looking for music in 2,000 samples, it isn’t that 1,999 of them suck, it’s that it isn’t exactly dialing into the emotion that I want to feel. I think we think a lot about that in how chords trigger certain emotions, like “The Crying Chord.” 

Michael: 

Again, it’s that richness that we’re looking for. You know, I was thinking about this album that we’re about to release. We’re calling it “Notes from the Suburbs.” It’s a diverse collection of music, and I’m really proud of it. I think especially during Covid, of course, when nobody was gigging, I’d come over here about every week or more and try to work on some new material. It’s interesting, working with Hal has always been . . . He’s very good at, you know, just making sure that the song is well-constructed. Not too long, not too short, you know. 

Hal: 

I do a lot of arrangements. I also do a lot of lyric doctoring because my background is as a writer.

Michael: 

Yeah, for me, my biggest weakness is as a lyricist. Often, I’ll write a song, it’s kind of like how The Beatles would write songs, where Paul McCartney would come up with a melody, and he’d come up with some nonsense lyrics or something. I think yesterday, wasn’t it scrambled eggs?

Hal: 

A lot of people write songs like that with, word substitution.

Michael: 

So I’ll have a sort of vague idea of what the song is, and I’ll have some weird lyrics, and Hal will say, “Let’s dial this in.” I think as a filmmaker, you’re conveying a message with a certain emotion here, and let’s really define that and make sure that we’re clear about it. So, that really has helped to focus the songs. 

Hal: 

But we both contribute things. Like a lot of times, I’ll song doctor the lyrics of an idea that Michael came up with. And a lot times, he’ll write a song and I’ll go, “This is really the best part. We should go out on that.” 

(Singing)

“The love of the world is on fire.”

Right, I was like, “That’s the best part.” Let’s go out with that. And I do a lot of the mixing and a lot of the mastering. 

Michael: 

“Burning Down the Amazon.” Yeah, I always tend to write about politics or . . . What are my things? 

Hal: 

Politics and unrequited love. 

Michael: 

Yeah, I have a thing for that.

Hal: 

And I write observational songs. Wrote a story for our friend, Mysti Mayhem, who had worked with Bo Diddley as her mentor for a number of years. And she always tells this story of how she worked with Bo Diddley, and it takes a few minutes for her to spit it out, so I wrote a song that’s called, “That’s My Song,” that’s about her relationship with Bo Diddley. I wish I could do more of those. 

Xara: 

And Michael, what do you mean by politics?

Hal: 

Yeah, Michael, what do you mean by politics?

Michael: 

Well, I don’t know if you know there’s this division in our country between the Reds and the Blues, or whatever you want to call it, Right and Left, Republicans and Democrats. It’s been a big concern of mine. I’ve lost friends in the last several years. Or there are people who I have a hard time conversing with because I can’t get out of my head that they voted for somebody, or they had a certain opinion that I thought was harmful or destructive. So yeah, it’s disturbing to me. 

I wrote this song, “The Elephant in the Room,” and obviously it’s about Trump but it’s more than that. It doesn’t explicitly mention Trump because I want it to be more about . . . You know, I’m a very open, honest person. I like to have the freedom to talk about things and address the problems that we have more directly. And you know, no one wants to talk about the elephant in the room because it’s scary, so that’s what the song is about. And then yeah, I got Gregg Gelb to come in and do a clarinet solo on that song. 

Hal: 

Incredible solo. So talented.

Michael: 

It was fun to put that together. I had my friend, George Knott come in to play the tuba.

Hal: 

That’s one of the great things of starting a record company. Suddenly, people are interested in coming over and playing their instruments. 

Xara: 

Well you get to interface with so much of the scene, I’d think you’d have this great perspective to see who is up-and-coming and who you want to work with, and just the kind of talent that’s out there.

Hal: 

We’ve generated a lot of interest and it’s been awesome. We have a fair equity model for musicians here at the record company, which is not unique to us, many indie record companies do it. It was the way people did things in the old days. I think to summarize it, getting one hundred dollars for a session is a rip off to the musician, because you’re betting against yourself. If the song makes a million dollars, I don’t want to be in the position of saying to someone, “But that’s the deal you signed.” No. So, we don’t pay session fees. We put everyone on the splits. If the song does well, buy a new car. And if the song doesn’t do well, come back and let’s record another song. I think this is a little unique to the Triangle. 

The only thing I’d point out is, and we’ve talked about this a lot—as performers, you play music, and it’s great. You stop playing, and it’s gone. And so, making records projects us into the future so that our work lives on. And the same thing with making videos, making music videos. I mean, there are so many musicians we wish we could hear, but we can’t, because they lived in a time before there was recording and recording music. But they were never captured or covered. And I’ll say one more thing. We work hard to make people feel good, to make them understand that this is not an exploitative thing. We’re all happy to make money, but that’s not really what it’s about. 

We recorded an artist, a songwriter, about two weeks ago who’s getting married. And she was so moved by the record. And we’ve had that experience a few times, people who have never really been in a recording studio. It’s like they learn to swim, or they were blind, and they could suddenly see. It’s very moving to show people, you can do this. There’s not some special class of humans. 

I always like to point out that indie music is the fastest growing section of music in streaming, indie music. It’s crossed the billion dollars in payouts. It’s growing at 36 percent per year. Between being an indie record label with fair equity payouts. That’s why you see so many major artists re-recording their own tunes because they were paid a buyout. The buyout may have seemed like a lot of money at the time, but now they’re like, “Wait a minute?” And I always use Billy Preston who played with The Beatles as an example. You don’t get royalties; you get a payout. It may seem like a lot of money at the time, but . . . 

Xara: 

But not over the span of a career. 

Hal: 

So that’s what we want to do. We want to be on as many records as we can, I think, with as many people as we can. 

Xara: 

We’ll make sure to share about how they can get in contact with you both in the episode description but is there anything else that either of you would like to share with Six Count, and thanks again for joining us tonight. 

Hal: 

Brilliant pianist.

Michael: 

Yeah, the band that Hal and I formed is called the Lounge Doctors. We’re at loungedoctors.com. And Mysti Mayhem, you can find her online. 

Hal: 

Mysti and the Doctors. Very exciting about that band. 

Michael: 

So lots of exciting things happening with the record label, with the music. And yeah, thank you again for having us on. 

Hal: 

Thank you so much for doing this, you know, spending the time to talk to the music community. And helping to build the community. We’re really grateful for you coming out here tonight, and anything we can do to help and all that, but rock on. 

Xara: 

Well, likewise. Thank you so much.