Original Sin
Folk songs became folk songs because folk kept singing them. Pop became pop by virtue of being popular.
Familiarity and broad appeal is great, and I would never knock it even if I’ve never, to my shame, found the time to learn to play more than a couple of other people's tunes. I love a good cover song and I love hearing great, familiar tunes. Shared, universal songs, the ones that we all know, bring us together.
My achilles heel though, is the song that I’ve never heard before. An original. Fresh off the page. I like to hear other people sing them, especially the first time. I like to write them and sing them myself.
I say “achilles heel”, because it is, as many other songwriters will attest, hard to build an audience purely on songs wot you writ yourself. And I say that, these days, with a wry smile and a chuckle, not any sense of bitterness.
I’ve written a few hundred songs, and self released well over a hundred of them. And I’ve loved every minute of doing that.
But here's a thing that may not surprise you. I received far more comments and local praise for my wee cameo (I sang the two George Michael lines!) in a charity cover and video of Feed The World, which I participated in last Christmas. Far more than I ever hear for the music I actually put the work into.
It's one of life's little ironies, and perhaps one of the reason why I'm motivated to try and provide environments in which original songs can thrive.
Lazing On A Sunny Afternoon
Well, it’s sunny hear in Campbeltown! And I’m reflecting on my favourite sunny day song of all time, by The Kinks.
What an intro. That descending bass riff. Whoa! I’m pouring a rum and coke (on the rocks!) as soon as I hear it, and it’s not even my kind of drink.
And then you get the best lyric ever written about the "struggles" of being a successful pop star, back in the day when songs made humongous mountains of money. For somebody, if not necessarily the writers of the songs. Plus ca change!
Get Up And Start Again
Perhaps the hardest thing in life is when we put in 100 percent effort and still fail at that thing we were trying to achieve.
There is, perhaps, the choice to call it a day.
It’s not really an option to be honest though. So we learn, we try and get smarter, and we make it stick next time.
That’s the journey we’re on. It’s that or simply seeing our time out as bystanders and observers of other people’s journeys.
And put like that, doing anything more than simply existing, sounds like a miserable existence of hard work and drudgery, when in fact it’s a fantastic privilege. An opportunity for joyful experiences and moments of wonder, to counter those disappointments and losses.
Just the one life for all of that, as far as I can tell.
Geography
Homesong has hosted online sets from Campbeltown, Drumlemble, Fife, Edinburgh, Portobello, Glasgow, Dundalk, Bangor, Manchester, Denton, Bristol, Somerset, Utrecht, France, Seattle, Washington and Boston, among other places.
Superb original songwriters and performers are out there in every location. And they are available to everyone with an internet connection.
But the Homesong tagline is “A Small Gig Where You Live”.
As wonderful as the internet is for connecting us with entertainment, it can’t match the unique experience of hearing those songs up close and personal with a group of friends, neighbours and family in someone’s living room.
Maybe yours.
Messy Days
A messy day with rain
And too many mistakes
An uphill struggle
And knee pain.
Malaise descends
And shows an urge
To hang around for days
And no desire to be
Quickly tidied up
With a brush, a pan
And a positive attitude.
I walk down the hill
And past the cemetery
Where the rows of graves
Remind me that
These Messy Days
Should also be cherished.
Shush!
Noise.
Well, there really is a lot of it about on the Interweb. And it’s hard to resist the temptation to scream, just a little bit more than anybody else, in order to get heard.
Probably better though to find a room away from it all, somewhere, and sit down to play a quiet song.
To coin a phrase, in the Land of the Loud, the Gentle Whisperer is King. Or Queen.
Nothing Else Matters
It can undoubtedly be a frustration if our creative selves make something that we feel demands an audience, when that something doesn’t seem to get the audience we think it deserves.
“Look at me!”
But perhaps it’s an opportunity. Learning to persevere in the making of something, regardless of feedback or appreciation, recognition or applause is, possibly, the only way we can potentially make something worth (other people) shouting about.
When it’s just ourselves and the song or the poem, the sculpture or the painting. When nothing else, certainly not anybody’s opinion, matters. When all of that can wait for another day. A day, perhaps, when it will have stopped mattering anyway.
Of course in reality we rarely achieve that Zen level of perspective and attitude. But it’s a good mountain top to aspire to, if we want to find true joy in our creations.
Ceilidhs
ceilidh n. (originally) an informal social gathering among neighbours, often involving music and storytelling, etc; visit, chat, gossip; (from the twentieth century onwards) an organised evening of entertainment involving Scottish traditional dance, music and song.
The ceilidh’s that happen now are not what they used to be. Most people thing of it as a Scottish dance in a big hall, like the country dance or barn dance in England and America. Interesting entertainment especially if, like me, you don’t know the steps and are usually in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But the old style Ceilidh’s were a lot more like a modern day Homesong is supposed to be. Local friends and neighbours meeting in a home to hear music and tell stories.
Also entertaining, but more intimate, and far more rooted in community.
Beehives And Termite Mounds
God, it’s good to hear somebody do something you can’t do.
It can be a challenge, and it can be a source of frustration. It can simply be a source of joy and wonderment.
Human’s are incredible in their diversity and creativity.
Imagine what we could achieve if we had that same sense of Together as those wee Honey Bees and the Termites under the pine trees.
They know a thing or two about teamwork.
Generosity
Part of the reason that I started this blog is because of a blog by Seth Godin.
One of the subjects he riffs on a lot is that of generosity. And specifically a generosity that isn’t about what we get back, but one that has a value in and of itself. A generosity that makes the world a better place. One that changes our own personal worlds too. Because when we live generously, we ourselves get transformed in the process.
I thought I’d link to a recent blog of his in which he shows how we sometimes (all of us do it sometimes…I plead guilty) think we’re being generous when actually we’re not.
Silence Has A Sound
Every fourth of the month, since forever, I’ve released a recording of an original song, produced with the brilliant assistance of Sam Hales. It goes out as a free download to my wee mailing list.
As part of that my daughter-in-law, Susanna, would do a drawing representing the title. Today, on his 6th birthday, my eldest grandson Saul is taking over the job. Saul was born on my 50th birthday. The best present I ever received.
Here is this month’s “Fee Come’s Fourth” tune, called Silence.
Silence has a sound too.
Silence
100 Today!
This evening is the 100th HomeSongs4Life set. It’s become more of a joy for me personally as time has gone on, and some of the technical glitches have gradually faded away.
And we’re not going anywhere. That is to say we will carry on putting out 4 songs by original songwriters every weekday night through this year and beyond.
Every performer here is delighted that at least the possibility of real live gigs are back on the horizon. And it is to promote a very particular sort of live gig that Homesong exists.
But it turns out that this online thing, though different and in some ways a poor substitute, still has a value in itself.
Thank you to everyone who was watched and taken part so far.
Why Bother?
When there is already a Dylan, a Wonder, A Mitchell or a Bush … please pick your own more up to date references and obsessions … why bother with making or listening to new music?
Well, as I sit on the other side of a screen listening, night after night, to fairly unknown original songwriters singing THEIR songs, I can answer that.
There are songs being written and sung that you’ve never heard before, but perhaps you should have, because they are being expressed in ways that Bob, or Stevie, or Joni, or Kate could never have done. And yes, some of those songs, in my besotted opinion, can stand proudly alongside any of your favourites.
They’re unique. And maybe one of these songs, could grab your heart, your mind, or your feet, and take them to new places.
Or simply let you know that you’re not alone.
A Work In Progress
Exactly what a live Homesong is, and how it can work, is not set in stone. It’s a work in progress. I’ve said all along that a Homesong gig, fundamentally, is a very simple thing. And that’s true.
It started with me (or I imagine, with any of the other folk round the world who have hosted home gigs) inviting a guest performer to our house, setting a date, and inviting a few local friends and neighbours. Everybody comes along hopefully, the artist plays and the folk who come donated generously, via “The Busking Box” to the performer. We’ve avoided tickets.
It’s always worked...each gig has had it's own magic... and everybody has gone home happy.
But there is one particularly dilemma that I’m trying to sort out as I plan for the first home gigs, where I live, possibly in August.
In the many previous gigs we’ve had, and because of the “no ticket” thing, I could never be sure the size of audience that was going to turn up. That was a stress for me and the other hosts I've got on board. Especially as most performers were travelling down from a good distance away.
The performers themselves came in good faith. And I know that they have always got a lot out of it. When few people turned up, the audience tended to donate even more generously. And an audience who actually WANTS to hear original songs, is a blessing for any songwriter.
But…. I do want to find a way of avoiding the dilemma of too much uncertainty. Currently I’m looking for a method of getting a minimum amount of donations (almost like a crowd-funder) ahead of time for each gig.
It needs to be a simple, replicable model, which works, if there is to be a realistic hope of building a network of gigs in homes. Which is my dream, anyhow, as you may know.
Isolated gigs like the ones we’ve got going in Kintyre are great, and they are something very special. I just think it would be a lot better if they were everywhere. I want other music loving folk with houses to say, “I could do that”. Or even better "I want to do that!". And I would like to help them with support and advice.
Anyway, I’m ALWAYS up for constructive suggestions, so feel free to share in the comments, or via email at contact@homesong.co.uk.
Make It Up As You Go Along
Painting by numbers is doing things the way they’ve always been done. There is no risk.
True creation, though, is always a leap of faith. There is uncertainty about the outcome. It is by it’s very nature a place of humility and vulnerability. We don’t know whether we’ll make it out in one piece.
Probably shouldn’t make it up as we go along if we happen to find ourselves working in an air traffic control tower.
But if change, of any kind, is required … if something could be better….if there are new possibilities and places to be discovered…if we want to challenge, surprise, and bring joy…then “winging it” is part of the deal.
It’s a requirement, in fact.
1,000 Feet Underground
We songwriters are very lucky to live in this Internet Age. In the past most songs written, unless they happened to be the ones that got picked up and passed down, literally by word of mouth, would fade away, like … a candle in the wind.
Less chance of being discovered than the 14,000 year old stone age art found recently, 300 metres into the Atxurra cave in the northern Basque region of Spain.
But we have got a huge online cave where we can hang our songs. One that is accessible to billions of people right now. Even more in the future.
And even if we feel unheard right now, maybe, one day, somebody might stumble upon our little work of art, long after we’re gone, and smile.
Here’s a song by an artist, Mary Cigarettes, whom I happened upon only after he had died. I’m glad I did and I’m glad he bothered.
Because this makes me smile.
Less Hats, More Songs
Making things simpler is a good goal.
For instance, in my dreamy brain, I imagine a situation where a performer who simply wants to perform their songs doesn’t also have to become:
A social media guru.
A (self) promoter.
A secretary.
A computer whizz.
A personal organiser.
A travel agent.
An advertising executive.
An accountant.
And, um, a roady. Actually, I'm sure we can live with that one!
I’m a great admirer, though, of the artists I know who do all of that, and still manage to create great music. It’s quite an achievement.
But I really don't think it has to be that way.
That’s why, on this Saturday morning, my dreamy brain continues to imagine a growing grassroots network of small home gigs, where the hosts and artists can connect with each other easily and where there are opportunities everywhere to play. And where music loving, community minded hosts build a local audience on behalf of the artists.
At the moment that’s a far off country.
But it’s worth working towards in small steps. Together.
The Greatest Song
I saw this on a music related FB page:
Write the greatest song ever written and watch it disappear in the world's music void, unheard. Steal one line from a song and use it and guaranteed some music hierarchy will sniff it out instantly, am I right?
And that got me thinking, because I thought it was missing the point a little bit. So I wrote this comment, and that is today’s blog.
I want to write songs that make people feel something or think about something in a new way. The greatest song doesn’t exist, and never will, but there are millions of songs that have touched someone, somewhere and made their world a better place, if only for a brief moment.
Don’t worry about getting lost in the crowd. Sing your song out loud, with pride and passion. For that person listening there quietly in the shadows, who needs a little bit of light right now.
Because we are all that person sometimes.
Bob Dylan And The Never Ending Tour
Bob Dylan turned 80 on monday. And he’s still writing, recording and performing.
There are so many words that could be used to describe him, by those who love him ( like me) and those who claim to hate him.
But if we judge him purely on the songs, even the haters will probably discover that there are Dylan songs that they love…they just didn’t know that Dylan wrote them.
He is, among other things, prolific and relentless. And it’s unlikely that any songwriter will ever match the levels of quantity and quality that he has achieved, and continues to achieve.
I also love the fact that on June 7th 1988 he began his “Never Ending Tour”. And only the pandemic has managed to slow him down. Temporarily I am sure.
Sadly, the only area that I would criticise him for (and this is a common criticism) is that he hasn’t always given his fans (who pay good money) a decent performance. I saw him the once a few years ago at an arena, the SECC in Glasgow. It was very underwhelming. He is notorious, for, as they say, not hanging around, and not making eye contact. And, to be honest, for murdering some of his own great tunes.
And yet some of his recorded live shows (try Live In Budokhan) are absolutely amazing. Stunning.
I think he is missing a trick though. His Bob-ness should seriously consider reconnecting with his audience when he starts playing live again, and do a few impromptu Homesong gigs.
Come on Bob.
I’m only going to Blind Willie McTell you once.
ps But thank you so much for the songs.
Sparrowhawk
On my daily lunch time walk yesterday I saw a sparrow hawk (I think) rise on the blustery wind, from the valley, up above the tree line to the height of the hill, in 3 or 4 seconds. Amazing.
Mastery of the sky, or of anything, draws gasp of admiration.
And as I try to relearn the guitar, and as my fingers struggle to acquire new muscle memory, it’s important for me to remember this truth - the bird I saw fly so magnificently yesterday, was once a featherless chick flapping stubby wings, unconvincingly, on the edge of a precarious nest.