Taking Care Of Home
Confession. There is one thing about hosting a Homesong that I still haven’t nailed. It causes the most stress. In fact it’s the only real stress now.
I’m still haunted by the question: who the hell is going to turn up?
For our particular Homesongs I’ve got a mailing list from our small town of 4,000 of over 50 addresses. People who in theory are interested in coming along. I send them out 2 or 3 emails before the gig, and ask people to respond if they are planning to come.
Some people do respond. Either to say they plan to come or that they can’t come. Some of those who do come don’t tell me. Folk who have said they were coming don’t always come. Some tell me at the last minute that they can’t. And some people were initially happy to be on the list, have never responded at all.
The upshot is that I only have a vague idea on the day of the gig who will be there. Sometimes I’m hopeful and end up disappointed at the turnout. Sometimes I’m anxious and end up being delighted.
The perfect scenario is of course that there is enough demand that I need to put a limit on attendances. And I still think that’s achievable, but it hasn’t happened so far.
My own take on this is not: to build a bigger mailing list; do more facebook promotion; seek more local advertising. It’s too easy to start trying prematurely to make something bigger when in fact it simply needs to be made better. And Homesong should be first and foremost about the community who are already in existence. I want to value them not lose them. I want them to always want to come along to the gig (Covid and Life Circumstances allowing).
So my first step will be to try to appreciate and look after those people better. I don’t know quite how yet. But it’s pointless talking grandly about Homesong networks and tours, if I’m not taking care of home.
Career Choices
I’ve always loved The Monkees, even if they were seen as a Beatle’s derivative band . Pleasant Valley Sunday was a great tune, but I’ve only just discovered that it was written by Gerry Goffin and Carole King.
Once upon a time songwriting had a career path. At the birth of pop, people wrote songs and there was a clear route to getting those songs, if you weren’t yourself primarily a performer, to the singers and bands who focussed mainly on the performing of other peoples tunes.
Though singer/songwriters existed (lots of blues artists doing it themselves before the pop explosion) for a while it was not unusual for the performers to be that, and that alone.
It’s a lot harder now, for people’s whose main focus is the songwriting. For a while I was one of those people, but in the end I succumbed to the need to sing my own songs in order to get them heard.
The route to writing songs for other people to sing still exists, but it’s a lot tougher and more convoluted these days. And because people aren’t purchasing recorded music nearly as much, only a handful make a good living from it now. The music business is all much more performance and production based.
I’ve learnt to enjoy the performing. But spare a thought for the folk who love writing songs, but wouldn’t want to be anywhere near a mic.
Talk It Out
Everybody who has ever held a conversation is a creative. Because do we ever really know beforehand the words that are going to come from our lips.
Not really. We just get passed a baton and then run with it in whichever direction our brain fancies. One thing leads to another, and before you know it you’ve had a conversation. A creative exchange of words. We do it all the time.
And that’s the kind of thing that, in some people’s hands, ends up in novels. Or film scripts. Or songs. And the strange thing is that the people who do that stuff sometimes get told “I wish I could do what you do”.
But they can. We all can.
So don’t be shy. The world needs more intentional creativity, and more people who are at least trying to make and build something new.
We’ve got more than enough of the folk who prefer to tear things down.
Get Up And Go Out
A digital recording of any kind is a very convenient way to listen to music.
Homesongs aren’t convenient. They involve getting up and going out.
Is it worth the effort?
For some people maybe not. A lot of the benefits of music can be accessed at the press of a button.
But the only way to really find out, is by getting up and going out.
Dreaming Is Free
Imagine all the people, living life in peace.
John Lennon was a dreamer. But he’s not the only one. We dream about all kinds of crazy shit. Going on holiday. Sex. Falling down a very long and dark hole while dressed in a tuxedo and eating a bacon sandwich. Taking over Iraq. Becoming very, very, rich.
A lot of dreaming is all about ME, ME, ME. Including mine.
Some folk, it turns out, just dream about having POWER. And then a bit more.
And what if the bad guys do win?
It is so very easy to allow ourselves to drift into snarky cynicism these days, what with Fake News, Conspiracy Theory, Pandemics and DIY Truth. As Ray Davies said … it’s a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world (except for Lola). A real life nightmare with dark creatures in the shadows. And sometimes right out there in the open.
And yes, there is a lot of scary stuff which is outside of our control.
But actually nobody can tell us what to dream.
So why not pick a good one. A generous, big hearted one.
And then try and make it happen where we live.
Living Memories
I returned from my varied travels yesterday to find an envelope with the words “Homesong Fri” on the outside.
Inside was a CD. It had been posted by a regular Homesong attender here in Campbeltown. The CD contains some songs by Beldina Odenyo, who played one of our early Homesongs here, and who I mentioned in a recent post. She tragically died a short while ago, and the poster, the mother of Beldina’s partner, just wanted us to remember her at our Homesong on Friday, by playing a couple of her songs.
It’s a beautiful idea. We will do.
To hear Beldina live would always be so much better. But the songs and the memories will always live on.
With A Smile
Creased skins by southern seas
Vino blanco and charred sardines
The autumn sun is gentler
Upon some lucky souls
The grey skies and damp cold
Of a Northern European November
Are crueler on the old
But it can all be faced
The harsh and the mild
And often it is
With a smile
Falling Off Horses
It’s nice to forge a habit. But it’s really not the end of the world when it dies a temporary death. Like this blog, which I did daily for about 6 months. But not yesterday. I’m travelling, and what with one thing and another, I forgot.
But here I am today. I fell off the horse then I got back on.
Which sounds like a line from a song. I must write it. Probably when I get home.
And anything that inspires a song can’t be all bad.
Rotterdam (Or Anywhere)
Shortly, I’ll be leaving on a jet plane to Rotterdam. Such a modern day man I am, writing my blog in departure lounge D at Malaga airport.
One thought for today: it would vastly improve life at an airport if they allowed a bit of busking. Apart from the presence of actual humans, airports are probably the most de-humanised, synthetic environments known to man.
A hard place to relax. Killing time as time slowly drains your brain of life.
Perhaps I should just burst into song. But these days that kind of thing might get a fella arrested. Thankfully, when I get back home I’ve got a Homesong at the house to get ready for and enjoy next weekend.
That’ll get the old soul back in working order.
Just Sing
Do you need a certain amount of rave reviews, or compliments, an exam result, or a record deal to call yourself a singer?
Or do you just sing?
Ditto for playing an instrument or writing or song? Or anything else that we attempt.
There are a million judges out there, and sometimes we need people to make those judgements. To tell us whether we pass the test.
But mostly it’s probably better to just sing, and play, and be whoever it is we are trying to be.
“Nice Song”
I’ve been through a couple of days when I felt extremely weak and tired and slept the majority of the time.
Fortunately I don’t get ill very often, but because of that I put two and two together and assumed that I’d gone down with C19. The tests came back negative though, and I’m feeling better now as well.
Sometimes assuming the worst has its advantages , because anything less than the worse case scenario feels like a win.
There was a period of time when I put Great Expectations on particular songs. This was going to be the one that broke through, for this reason or that reason. And it was a disappointment when, despite my best efforts, they didn’t.
These days my definition of “breaking through” is a song that I’m personally proud of, and happy to sing out loud. On my own or in front of an audience.
So now even a small compliment … “nice song” … or a round of applause, is a wonderful bonus.
It’s a happier existence.
A Normal Day
Some things that we may well do daily … brushing our teeth, preparing food, taking a shower, breathing … are seen as a normal part of being human.
Other things …. practising an instrument or a skill, writing a song or a blog, exercising … are seen as the domain of the truly dedicated or the masochists.
It’s just a mindset though. We can decide to do anything on a daily basis and choose to see it as normal.
That takes a lot of the pressure off.
The Thrill Of Survival
Walking alone in the woods in the dark in Britain, my heart leaps at a strange sound in the night. But I' am definitely not about to be attacked by a hungry creature with a yearning for a tasty human treat, because there are no longer any dangerous beasties on our island. I’m just being hijacked by an ancient part of my brain which wants me to survive above and beyond anything else.
Stage fright falls into this same category.
Which means that … the butterflies in the tummy, shaky hands , nausea, dry mouth, and rapid breathing … telling me that something bad is about to happen if I don’t take some avoiding action, are completely pointless.
It turns out, more often than not, when I press on and sing those songs to the ravenous pack of wolves before me, that I don’t get eaten alive. Hallelujah.
Our emotions are very weird though. It also turns out that not dying, even though I was never actually going to die in the first place (!!!), can really get the happy endorphins kicking in. I survived. Yay!
What strange creatures we are.
Sometimes you’ve just got to roll with it.
Not A Love Song
There are a lot of classic love songs out there. Undoubtedly the most talked about subject in the history of Songdom. It’s been approached from every angle and perspective. Probably impossible to find a new twist on that tale. But it doesn’t stop us writers giving it a shot anyway.
The good news is that there are still a million other subjects that haven’t been done to death. And some of the best songs out there plunged themselves wholeheartedly into that universe of possibility.
Here’s one of my favourite Not A Love Song songs.
Never A Chore
I’m very blessed to be part of a group of songwriters who have been meeting together twice a year for the last 15 years.
Until the big C19.
But we’re back together. Better than ever! A lot of laughter, too much wine, and some songwriting too. The usual mix. It feels like we’ve never been away.
Five of us wrote a crazy song yesterday in an upbeat 1950’s dance style. It had the unlikely title of Do The Chores. I promise it made sense if you were in the room.
But one thing I know. It’s never a chore to be with this group of friends.
Lucky me.
It’s Friday I’m In Love
It’s got deep psychological associations with the patterns of a traditional nine to five working week. And before that the 9 to 3.30 school week. Friday marks the beginning of the end of doing what we are obliged or have been coerced into doing. And the beginning of two whole days of doing whatever the hell we like.
Yay!
There is a Facebook page deep in outer space, where it is possible to witness ageing songwriters, people like me who very few people have heard of, become bitter and disillusioned.
They have been confronted yet again with the possibility that a GREAT song they have written may never achieve the stratospheric levels of attention that it DESERVES.
They will probably never get the chance to spend Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday being a FULL TIME musicky person.
STUCK with making music purely for love. Just something for the weekend .
What poor, unfortunate souls.
Is there a cure for this particular sickness?
Well yes. Yes, there is.
Granny called it “Count Your Blessings”.
Making It Personal
I’ve written two songs over the last couple of days. One a memorial for somebody loved. By me and many others. One a blessing for two people in love.
Making it personal brings the songwriting alive. It focuses me. I want to get it right. And I could happily spend the rest of my days writing songs about the people I know and care about.
Of course you can never sum up any life in one song. But it would be lovely if everybody could have their very own song, written for and about them.
A little memento -
”Listen to this. I am here, and my life matters”.
Convenience Food
So I heat up a microwave meal. Shepherds Pie. No hunting down a beastie in the forest for me. No growing or foraging for my 5 a day. No food preparation. No skills or ingenuity needed. Just a trip to the fridge and a push of a button.
Convenience Food - by Technology. It’s what we Homo Sapiens do, have done and will continue doing as long as we exist. Making complex things and systems that make our lives “simpler”. That save us time
But when I’ve saved the time with my microwave meal, I have to decide what to do with it. Because for most people, including me, thumb twiddling has never been the most rewarding of hobbies. Well only for a while.
So I search for some Entertainment. .
And in fact my entertainment is also brought into the living room, into the palm of my hand, by technology. So I watch a video of a comedian I like on my phone. And I am royally entertained. In fact there is so much of that entertainment available in my pocket, that even Technology will never be able to give me enough time to consume it all.
It’s a conundrum.
On top of that, it turns out that I Can’t Get No Satisfaction…from just being entertained by A.N. Other Entertainment Inc. It all gets a bit soul-less. I get a bit restless. I find myself staring into the void of an empty existence.
I need something more fulfilling. More rewarding. I want to make something myself. What to do? What to do?
I know. I’ll make a curry. From scratch! My own curry powder. The works.
So I do. And it IS very satisfying and rewarding. I’m doing something with my hands. I’m using my senses. Even a bit of a creativity involved - got to mess with the recipe a little bit.
And by the time I’m done that microwave Shepherd’s Pie has been digested.
I’ve got my appetite back again.
Clothes Removal
One of the first bands I got into in a big way, though they were a big thing before my time, were The Kinks. They wrote some wonderfully idiosyncratic pop songs. Like Ape Man.
“In man's evolution he has created the city and
The motor traffic rumble, but give me half a chance
And I'd be taking off my clothes and living in the jungle”
But my word, there are so many clothes to take off these days. Aren’t there?
It seems to me to be a very complicated journey getting back to Simple, or even to Simpler, if those happen to be the destinations we want to reach.
We often find ourselves putting on another new layer of something before managing to discard ones that had come to seem unnecessary. Like engaging in cyclical crash and burn diets. Calories off. Calories on. At the end of the day still feeling like a modern day Michelin Man. Buried under layers of tyres. Very tired.
And wondering where our inner Apeman has buggered off to.
I don’t really think he’s gone anywhere though. In my saner moments I hear his primordial tongue whispering at the edge of my consciousness.…”Just sing that song”….”Go for a walk”…. “Turn off that bright screen thingy” … “go into the garden”….”play with the grandchildren” … “daydream a while”… “don’t click that button!” …. “Climb a hill”.
That kind of thing. Less about discarding. More about doing. `
I think it was Apeman who mentioned the Homesong idea. And these days he’s saying “Don’t let the things that are all about Simple, become another layer of stress”.
And when I listen, my clothes often seem to fall off of their own accord.