Things You Don’t Need
Things You Don’t Need To Host A Homesong in your house:
A stage
A stage presence
Special lighting
Amplification
A big room
A microphone
Tickets
A face lift
A top hat
A magic wand
Plus Ca Change
Well it’s the first time in a while I haven’t had to do my little morning routine to set up a broadcast for the online Homesong set in the evening.
Always weird when an established habit changes. But good for the flexibility muscles. And on Wednesday I’ll be able to do that morning dance once again anyway. Because that’s part of the new routine for the online sets.
Yep, we’re on at 7pm on Wednesday’s. And planning to give a little bit more of a promotional push to the artists who are playing. Coming up this week is the wonderful Beki Hemingway with the excellent accompaniment of her husband Randy Kerkman.
I think we should reintroduce the habit of having a little chat with whoever’s playing on the night, so that we can all get to know them better.
Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Let’s do that!
ps. And btw, here is this month’s Fee Comes Fourth tune by yours truly, “Original Son”.
This Then That
I was going to do that this morning, because I aways do, then I was going to do that, and then that. But this came up. So that will have to wait until later.
It often happens that, like Eric Morecambe, I find myself playing all the right notes but not necessarily in the right order.
And sometimes, as luck or chaos or the muse would have it, a better song emerges.
Strange that.
Row To Shore
The song lyric below came to mind this morning. It’s a co-write between Kim Le Clair and myself. She is an online friend who has been a great support during the last year with all things homesong and more.
I’ve lost the tune, so that will need to be rectified, but it’s simply about the importance of continuing to try and connect to other people, particularly at times when it seems difficult or we had maybe given up on doing so at all.
I see you there
In your little boat
All alone on the ocean
You’re holding on
You’re still afloat
Anchored by some strange devotion
You’ve been out there
The longest time
Living off your own resources
Maybe now
Now’s the time
To make some other choices
You row to shore
Don’t know what you’ll find there
You row to shore
Fight against the tide
You row to shore
Who knows what you’ll find there
Maybe just
Another place to hide
Now the shoreline
Is getting clearer
You see people just like you
You row to shore
They’re drawing nearer
Like the morning light
Breaking through
But it’s not too late
For turning back
You’ve always been
Your own best friend
No guarantees
Your heart gets mended
Or that the pain
Will ever end
You row to shore
They gather round you
You row to shore
They help you in
You row to sure
Somehow they found you
You row to shore
And you found them
So row to sure
Though you be fearful
Of your own shadow
And what might be
You’re not alone
That’s not what you’re here for
So row to shore
Not out to sea
Time Glides By
Ironically, as tonight we end this period of HomeSongs4Life that took us through lockdown, I’m in lockdown. At least until we get the results for one of our household members who needed to take a Covid test yesterday.
C’est la vie. It’s always change, change, change.
From our tiny bubble in history, it feels like we’re living in strange times. But the truth is that it’s always been that way. And we have always had to adapt, or die trying.
In this changing world we humans are an odd species, with a strange song. A song that is still getting written. With instruments that we’re still in the early stages of learning to master. Like an eager apprentice fiddle player disturbing the neighbours as they make inappropriate screeches, instead of the actual tune they were hoping for.
But we keep practising. It’s a work in progress ain’t it? All of it.
And sometimes we make something of beauty, and it’s all worthwhile, and the earth breathes a little easier.
Like this lovely song I heard only yesterday, recently written and recorded by a couple of our wonderful HomeSongs4Life performers.
Just A’ Moving On.
Today is the penultimate HomeSongs4Life in this sequence of Every Weekday online gigs. This evening we are heading over to Seattle to join Kevin Baier. Although it will be 11am for him when he plays, an ungodly hour for many performers. He’s got a couple of mates along for the ride. Extra musicians has been a nice addition to some of the more recent sets.
And tomorrow we will be finishing this 9 month loop with Norman Lamont, who played a recent gig, the first since all the lockdowns began, here in Campbeltown. It was great to meet him (along with Rosie and Tommy Nimmo) in person.
Alongside his set (of 4, yes FOUR songs!) I will be having a wee online chat with Norman tomorrow evening to finish off this little chapter. Chris Annetts will be joining us. So it would be great if you could pop in to say hi.
It’s been a real pleasure to get to know so many wonderful songwriters during this time. And I hope many more of us can meet in person in the future. A massive thank you to all of those who have been involved.
HomeSongs4life is not going anywhere though. We’ll still be here on Wednesday’s at the new time of 7pm (UK time). And trying to give more of a proper intro to the artists who are performing. And there will be a new monthly Sunday feature starting, that I’ll introduce soon.
Finally the blog will continue daily, like an unstoppable freight train, carrying the message of “Small Gigs Where You Live” to where you live. It would be lovely if you would climb on board and subscribe. (see the button up there on the right)
So it’s not goodbye. We’re just a’ moving on.
And I’d like to send my ongoing love, from me to you.
Planting Sunflowers
I’ve got the urge to tell you a little bit of the story that prompted the writing of the song I spoke about a couple of days ago.
The journalist who contacted me for that reason had been on a long journey from her home in Louisiana to Arkansas. On her journey she came by some huge fields of sunflowers, with a sign alongside that simply said “We love you Clyde”.
And she found out that those sunflowers were planted, every year, by the parents of a young man who had died working on the family farm. It was their way of remembering him.
And I’m thinking this morning that we, and more specifically, I, can easily be inclined to turn the pain and disappointments of life, whether big or small, into negative pity, resentment, anger.
Which is why we need a story or a song or something that works, to regularly remind ourselves that there is a better way to deal with those sorrows and difficulties.
We can plant our own sunflowers instead.
All By Myself
A person singing a song, unaccompanied, is as simple as it gets.
Add more to the mix and things can get complicated. But potentially more interesting. A symphony orchestra is almost a corporation of sound, involving masses of organisation, a multitude of technically skilled players, countless hours of training and, to make it all work and bring it together, charismatic leadership.
Then there’s everything in between. And it’s all good as far I’m concerned.
A song, with a melody and a lyric, doesn’t really care how it is performed. And we, the listeners, can appreciate it in all its many manifestations.
But a good song is always comfortable in it’s own company.
The Pleasure Zone
A while ago I got asked to help with the writing of a song by a complete stranger. We just happened to be doing the same online creativity course, and she had heard a song of mine.
Jan is a journalist in the USA who’d been carrying round a story in her heart for a few years. A story that she felt could be turned into a song. But she had never written a song. So she'd been looking for someone who she thought fit the bill to help her with the task, hence the request. I felt very honoured to be asked, as you can imagine.
And she was right. There really is a song in her sad, beautiful story. But for various reasons, after a good start, the writing got delayed and we lost touch.
But that song was eating away at me by now, and I managed to get hold of her again just recently. And then very quickly, after she had sent me more details and some very singable lines, the song got finished. It’s called The Ballad Of Clyde Burt.
Well it’s alway exciting to finish a song. Honestly it’s one of my greatest pleasures. But to have finished a song that I’m really happy with, AND to have the extra anticipation of sending it to my co-writer for a listen…that’s just like Christmas come early. Let’s hope she likes what I’ve done with it, huh?
Anyway, I like it, and I’m so full of it at the moment, that I’d love to play it you or anyone who will listen. But you’ll just have to wait. Jan’s got to hear it first.
Can you tell? I’m in the pleasure zone.
By The River
I’ve heard some wonderful new music during these last 9 months of Homesongs4Life. I believe every one of those who has performed have written a song, or songs, that can stand up, loud and proud alongside anything in their particular genre.
And as a case in point, let me introduce a perfect lazy Sunday morning song from one of the H4Life crew, and an old friend of mine, Gary Carey. The first time I listened to this song it sounded like an instant classic. I’ve heard it many times since, and not changed my mind one little bit.
So do yourself a favour, sit down (or lie back!) with a cup of coffee, and take a listen to “By The River”. Just scroll down the page and you’ll find it (no.7) among the songs on his “What’s Not To Like?” album.
I’ll be doing the same.
Advocacy From The Devil
Hi. I’m the Devil. But you can call me Deve. I’m going to tell you why Homesongs will never catch on. Listen up!
They only reach a few people. Honestly! Why is a performer going to limit themselves to singing to 20, when they can potentially sing to 50 or 100 or 100,000? Think bigger man!
Too close! Too close! So, you know you’re gonna loose that superstar magic right? When the WHOLE audience can see the singers nose hair. And of course get a free shower of that lovely spit they occasionally produce (did someone say Covid?) when they’re belting out a tune?
The hosts don’t make any money ffs! You expect them to give up an evening to let people into their homes? For free?!!!!!!
It’s a hassle man. Too much change. People already know where they can go and hear good music. They already know where they can perform. It’s sorted. Chillax! Keep those homes peaceful and private!
And anyway, people are going out less and less. The Future is right here, right now. In front of your computer. Real life with real people is very messy and REALLY over-rated. The digital world will only get better and better.
Still not convinced?
Well, nobody is gonna know the tunes are they? Most of those artists prepared to do those gigs are relatively unknown. Given the choice between hearing their new (to you) and potentially crappy songs or hearing The Rolling Stones singing Sympathy For Me at Wembley Stadium… it’s a no brainer. At Wembley EVERYBODY will be singing along. You’ll feel like part of the universe! AND you’ll keep me happy. Win, win.
Also, and finally, the Youth are the future. Try getting them into a house to hear a “singer/songwriter”! God help you. And everybody knows that any music made by someone over the age of 25 is automatically inferior.
I say Homesong, Schmomesong! That’s what I say.
Take care now.
ps. Oh, and thank you to Seth Godin for whispering the idea into my pointy red ears.
Why Didn’t They Tell Us That?
It has become apparent that there are lots of things I can’t do. But the only ones that bother me are the ones that I want to do.
Like getting REALLY locked on and solid with a new guitar picking technique.
Or becoming fluent in Dutch.
Or finding the next person who wants to host a Homesong gig.
Honestly, I’m finding it takes a whole lot of time and effort to do the things I want to do.
Why didn’t they tell us that?
Coal Tit And The Love Pellets
I’ve been trying to get a better handle on sound. A better handle on the details of sound, because I’ve always been a broad strokes, big emotions kind of guy, not brilliant at picking up on the nuance and detail.
And I’ve been listening more closely to Bird Song this summer. They invented singing, so it’s a good place to start. Yesterday I spent some time focussing on the coal tits that were passing through a patch of conifers on the hillside where I walk.
So, for your information, the coal tit first does a little high pitched two note lock and load. The second note is a little bit higher. It might need to do this two or three times.
And then the little beauty fires a tiny round of the gentlest love pellets you ever heard.
Folks, these are the bullets we should be going to war with.
I’m telling you, listen out for them
Coal Tit And The Love Pellets.
They could be huge.
73 (It’s Just A Number)
I try not to bother with the prevalent statistics and metrics on social media. But a short while ago I happened to see the number 73 in a period when I was feeling depressed. It represented the 73 views for my HomeSongs4Life performance a month or so ago on Facebook.
Here’s what a brain like mine can do with a number like that, when it’s tending towards the negative:
That’s lower than most of the viewing numbers for H4Life. Am I that bad?
And views doesn’t even mean people watching it all FGS! Most people turn off after 30 seconds!
What am I doing wrong? I like my songs, but nobody else does! I’ve really tried to improve my performance!
I started this thing FFS, and I can’t even pull a crowd.
WOE IS ME! etc…
Now I’ve been around a while, and I still sometimes experience these kind of thought patterns. So a while ago I put a little folder of notes aside about the nice things that people have said about my music.
For instance - “Wonderful song. And then I went to your youtube channel and had my whole day turned around. You are magic”.
Or - “Ohhh…I had chills 5 seconds in listening to, ‘Sometimes I Cry’. So much raw, pure emotion in your voice. This piece brought me to tears. It’s really effin’ incredible…”
You’ve got to say (and I’m only blowing my own trumpet for a point - I still find it hard to truly take any compliment on board) that these kind of words are why those of us who are songwriters and performers do any of this. We want to make exactly these kind of connections.
So at the end of the day, what does 73 really know anyway?!
Pfffff! It’s just a number.
Trippin’
A couple of days ago I fell over on a flat pavement. I didn’t trip over anything except myself. No drink involved, although I was heading to the pub for the football.
And though it would definitely have been funny to watch (especially that little jerky dance you do, as though to prove to people that falling on your face was actually part of the plan) I managed to come away with a hole in my trousers and the skin off my kneecap.
’
The thing is I regularly walk in the hills and forests on uneven surfaces. I jump over fences and run down hills. I tie my laces with my foot off the ground for crying out loud. I pride myself on my balance.
But a flat surface, walking along fairly normally, did for me. Perhaps I was a little bit ahead of myself in my head. A bit rushed maybe.
I don’t know.
But the next time I’m in front of an audience, playing a song that I know backwards, I’m going to be that little bit more alert and focussed.
David Olney
Yesterday I wrote a little bit about David Olney and the fact that he passed away while sitting at a chair, playing a song at a gig.
I ended up watching the 30 minute video in the article I linked to, which features him earlier that same day doing four songs and a little interview for a radio show. It’s worth watching for the poignancy of the moment, for the songs, for his gentle humanity, for his clear professionalism.
And for the way he speaks about his love for Home Concerts (as they are grandly called in the US). That was lovely for me to hear.
I highly recommend taking the time to view it.
And if you’re so inspired (like I was on Sunday evening) watch this longer video of his memorial concert held in Nashville in his honour. It is also a thing of great humanity and beauty. With some fantastic songs.
Our time is always precious, but I’m so glad I spent some time finding out more about this man and his music.
People talk about David Olney like a person would want to be talked about.
If It Wasn’t For The Wind
The first signs of Autumn have arrived in Kintyre. In the form of the familiar wind and rain. Thankfully they both stayed away for most of the summer here. But it’s strangely comforting to see them back.
Here’s a lovely song that came to mind this morning. One of my favourites, and by a guy called David Olney:
If It Wasn’t For The Wind
I hadn’t heard of David Olney before I heard this song, and I didn’t hear much about him after either. Not until I read, a year and a half ago, that he had passed away, quietly at his chair, in the middle of singing a song at a gig.
Read the story. It’s quite beautiful.
And what a way to go.
The Fear Factor
I often emphasise the simple and enjoyable part about hosting a Homesong gig.
But there is a scary and challenging side to it too. For instance:
It’s not normal (these days and so far) to invite people to your house for a gig. We all would prefer to be seen as normal among our friends.
We may well have not heard the artists play live. We’re asking people to take a risk with their time in the hope that a good evening is going to be had. But we can’t guarantee that.
We are asking an artist to travel and play without knowing exactly who will turn up.
We will be meeting that artist without having met them before. Who knows how that will pan out?
There is a fear factor to being a host. There probably always will be, even if we manage to take some of the uncertainty and risk out of the equation.
But the rewards do make it worthwhile. I can say that with confidence, having hosted 30 of them.
So if you’re a music lover, with a home, maybe you could take the leap and face the fear.
Jurassic Park - A Film About The Past
From the age when Rock n’ Roll was the new Rock n’ Roll, Genesis are the latest artists to come out of retirement.
Are they doing it for the love of music? Or in order to make sure that they can afford the mortgage repayments on their holiday homes in these notoriously difficult times for ex-supergroups?
Yes, I’m being cynical. And no, I don’t really believe that they are doing it out of any real passion or a sense of care and duty for their adoring fans. Not when the inevitable arena tour tickets are…surprise, surprise…on sale for between £100 and £800.
So here comes another of my crazy metaphors trying to allude to the fact that small is beautiful, and that we, the Great Unknown, count for something in this musical landscape.
Because you know, there was a time when the dinosaurs roamed the earth. And in their shadows, hidden away from those enormous stomping feet, were the little furry creatures that today we call mammals. They didn’t make much of a stir at the time. But those wee creature were adaptable, flexible, tough. And cute. And today they are still around and the impressive and temporarily successful dinosaurs are not.
And it’s true that, for a short while, making great music became a source of self aggrandisement and fortune building. And there are indeed still a few dinosaurs stomping around to that end. There are still the remnants of an industry supporting them. But I think that all of that cheapens and undervalues the songs and wonderful music that was created.
And I believe that the music we create can be about far more than that same means to a selfish and individualistic end. It can have a purpose to build and connect genuine community at a time when even families are at war with each other.
I hope our music does at least have that aim.
Because Jurassic Park is a film about the past. That’s all it is.
Cattle Grids And Green Grass
I was walking across a cattle grid yesterday. It was a doddle and the cattle (i.e. Bulls!) didn’t follow me.
Which is amazing! I mean, how come that one member of the bovine race hasn’t sussed them out since they were invented ? I’m sure even with hooves some smart beast out there could have found a way.
Fill the gaps with munched up grass or something.
Come on guys…I believe in you! You can do it!
Or maybe they’re just happy where they are.
We’d have found a way of course. We are The Humans! We evolve and learn. The grass is never green enough in our field. No sir!
And that discontent is the curse which has probably led to the vast majority of the pain and suffering and wars and depression that we have experienced. But it has also been the source of all our positive creativity, bringing such joy and pleasure.
I’m not sure where I’m going with this story.
Which I suppose is also like life as a human being.
But the bottom line is… we’re not stuck in a field. We’re blessed with choices to make about the direction we take….once we’ve crossed over that tricky cattle grid.
I live in hope that my little brain, and the rest of the damn world, with all it’s huge potential, can learn to make better choices, a bit more often.
Soon please.