It’s No Sacrifice
Elton John is today reported giving the government a rollocking because of the way it has handled the economic impact upon the British entertainments industry after Brexit.
"What makes me crazy is that the entertainment business brings in £111bn a year to this country and we were just tossed away".
Must confess, I don't know much about the economics or the politics here. Technically though, many of the songwriters I'm involved with are a part of this "entertainment industry" which Elton is speaking about. But I, for one, undoubtedly pay into that big pile of Spondoolies rather than receive from it. So I when I hear these figures bandied about, I do have a little wry smile to myself.
The truth however, is that I'm blessed, as are many of us, with the freedom to approach music as a love affair...not as an obligation, a duty, or way to put food on the table.
There is no right or wrong in any of this. Merely a simple acknowledgement that the grass can be green on either side of the fence. And that there is more than one way to measure success.
Although you'll never hear me complain, should the odd coin from that mythical 111 Billion ever land in my pocket.
Going Live!
I've been increasingly hearing some heart piercing rumours about people playing songs, listening to songs, and actually being there, in the presence of Live Music. With other people in the room.
Up until now I had managed to avoid any sense of dissatisfaction by virtue of the useful distraction which HomeSongs4Life online presence became. But now, with the arrival of these rumours, and my own plans moving forward for hosting Homesong gigs in Kintyre, I'm starting to get itchy feet.
It's true. Online Live is OK. But Live Live is undoubtedly better. We are after all, it turns out, still Human Beings, and not digital automatons.
One Way Or Another
My all time favourite song review came from a friend, Murray Webster, who later founded London Songwriters to teach songwriting skills to others. He knows his coffee beans. After laying my very soul on the line, as we do every time we sing a new song to anybody, other than ourselves in the shower, he responded with the immortal "WTF was that?"
And he definitely had a point from a critique point of view. That song returned to the great Song Recycling Plant in the depths of my subconscious, never to surface again.
However, as time goes by, I become more inclined to measure the value of a song by those kind of reactions. There are a hell of a lot of nice songs out there. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with nice. A pleasant life with nice background music isn't a life to be sniffed at. It's something to aspire to, especially when we've had our struggles.
But surely anything we do creatively is done for some kind of attention. To make a mark. To say "I woz here!".
Punk made people go "WTF was that!". Many meant it negatively, but for others it was a breath of fresh air that helped them to find new meaning and purpose. To feel that their lives mattered too.
Maybe we should be writing more songs that make people care. One way or another.
Go Local
Most of the Homesong gigs I've hosted have involved inviting a touring performer from "outside" and setting up as a "proper" gig, albeit far more relaxed and intimate than most kind of performance situations.
But there is an even simpler, more chilled way to go, even though it works much the same way. If you know a few local musicians/songwriters (or even just one) invite them round to your house to play. And then invite a few friends to come and listen. You could put a "busking box" out to provide the player(s) with a little something for their troubles, or to donate to a local charity, but money doesn't have to play a part for these kind, necessarily.
And then see what happens.
We've have a few fantastic nights doing this. One where we invited some local young singer-songwriters to play (some for the first time in public) was particularly good. It's always brilliant to see younger folk stretching their wings creatively.
And a living room is a lot less intimidating than a pub, or a big hall if you're performing for the first time.
So why not go local and bring the music home?
Falling With Style
To be fair the footballers have got it harder than songwriters. So many ways to upset folk, even...sometimes especially...your own supporters.
They say everybody loves a winner. But sometimes the question becomes a choice of preference. Win the competition? Or play with passion, style and flair, but go home early?
In an ideal world we'd like to do both. But there are always more losers than winners.
And, given the choice, I'm firmly on the side of falling with style.
Developing Low Expectations
Most songwriters and performers in the history of songwriting and performing have been hobbyists or moonlighters.
But over the last 50 years expectations have changed, and those of us who have been working at our craft for years and take our creative work seriously, sometimes have a sense of failure, disappointment, and even resentment if we haven't managed to "break through" yet. Which in our own minds probably means getting the recognition and money that our undoubtedly fantastic creations deserve!
Leaving aside whether we're actually as good as we think we are, that outlook is still very much a thing among we singer/songwriters of a certain vintage. And despite the fact that all the evidence suggests the golden age of popular music is over.
But if the "songwriting as a route to fame and fortune" myth still exists in our heads, then I think it's necessary, if only for our own mental health, to develop a different outlook.
And I think it's very possible that "lower expectations" as to what success constitutes as a creative artist, can have a very positive effect on the creative work we do produce. Because the work becomes our focus, not the "success".
That's a good thing, isn't it?
Can I Hear Anybody?
Can anybody hear me?
Like everybody else, I'm usually under the impression that my meaning is clear. It's quite disconcerting, as time goes by, to realise quite how far away that belief is from the truth. And this has nothing to do with language, usually. Far more to do with each of our own unique expectations, biases, outlooks, nuanced interpretations, wishes, hopes and dreams.
When I, or any of us, say something in what seems to be our most straightforward manner, our words often carry a slightly different meaning than intended. Sometimes completely different. That's probably why any kind of positive change is difficult and takes so much work. It involves patience. Taking time. Not rushing.
Listening.
And then, gradually, the important question becomes: Can I hear anybody?
A Regular Beat
Keeping a regular beat is not an easy feat. Drummers are amazing as far as I'm concerned. I say that as someone who mainly plays alone. Just me and my acoustic gradually getting faster through a song as the adrenalin kicks in, and I get carried away.
But you can't keep getting faster, indefinitely, before you collapse in on yourself, like a black hole in outer space - out of breath, out of energy, and out of time.
A regular beat. That's where it's at dudes.
Construction In Progress
I'm in the process, with help, of setting up a new Homesong website. The plan is to have a page for each Homesong venue, where hosts can put up details about their upcoming Homesong gigs, and where the people they know and contact can purchase a ticket ( with optional amount of donation) ahead of time.
In addition there should at some point soon, be a place for H4Life artists to put up information about themselves and their own touring plans etc. It will hopefully be a start in enabling Home gig hosts and artist to connect with each other a little easier. It will also continue to provide information about everything Homesong related, in the way the current site does now.
Lots of of other ideas buzzing around my head, but it will be a case of building slowly. And possibly going backwards a little, in order to go forwards.
Watch this space, and as always I'm open to any suggestions and ideas you may have for improvements and additions, either now, or when the site goes live.
Add Your Own Spices
When I host a Homesong here in Campbeltown, Kintyre, I usually make a curry (meat and veggie options) for the folk who are coming along. Everyone gets a little dish of something during the half-time break. Lori, another Homesong host in Kintyre, puts her own spin on making guests for the gig welcome.
None of which is compulsory when hosting. But it helps to make each event special.
So here's the recipe for a Homesong gig:
Mix together A Home, A Performer, and An Invited Audience.
Then just add your own spices.
Applauding The Flaws
Unlike a blog, such as this, life doesn’t have an edit button. We can’t wipe out the last few minutes and re-type them.
Which means that our mistakes, our flaws, and our bad sense of timing, are always a part of the narrative.
Maybe that’s why a live performance has something extra about it. More so than a recording, in which all the fluffs can be extinguished. Live, it can all go wrong. And both the audience and the performer know it.
Maybe that’s where the applause comes from, when, amazingly, it all goes beautifully right. Or even, sometimes, because of the rough around the edges.
A Tidy Garden
A couple of days ago I went on a long, knackering, wonderful 20 mile walk in the Cairngorm mountains with my youngest son. A couple of hours after setting off early, through amazing scenery, and before starting the real climbing, we approached the first human being on our walk. A forestry worker, surrounded by this stunning landscape, got out of his 4 by 4 and started lopping a few tiny trees from the side of the track, with a handsaw.
As we came up to him I gave him my best mountainside banter, bearing in mind his task at the time. "Tidy garden, you've got here".
He came straight back with: "Aye, you won't believe it. The boss isn't allowing us to use any machinery".
Which did sound a bit daft.
But it also goes to show that no matter how wonderful your working environment might be, there is always something juicy to complain about, to any wandering passers by.
What If The Internet Went Down?
For most people, before the mid-nineteen eighties, the internet was permanently down.
OMG! I honestly don’t know how we all managed!
If it happened today, I imagine it would cause major disruption. But even though we’re all dependent, or feel dependent, upon it, we would of course, get by. As we would without any of our electronic technology.
I’m in the daily habit of intentionally “depriving” myself of it’s ubiquity. I go for a walk in the woods, with my phone, left at home. Alone.
And I love the Homesong gigs, precisely because they can be played unplugged, with an acoustic instrument, a voice, and just a few people for company. We could (and occasionally do) video them and send them out into the Cybersphere.
But there is something special about leaving the Share To The World button, unpressed. About experiencing a moment on our own, or with a few other people, which nobody else will ever experience.
Technology, as they say, is great, as long as it remains our servant, and not our master.
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.