A Wild Fear

I woke early this morning and decided to go for a walk up the hill. It was about 5am. On my way I walk up a road that borders farmland, which in turn borders the hill and the forest. Up ahead there were two roe deer on the pavement, feeding on the verge.

They spotted me and trotted off around the bend ahead. Around the bend ahead I came upon them again. One of them ran off down another road but the other one tried to get through the wire fence, and became stuck.

I’ve had to rescue rams and sheep from wire and brambles more than once before. So, I approached this deer. It was only small, but I’ve never seen such a wild fear and desire to escape this predator, me, as I approached. It made a loud, quite grotesque, scream as the trapped head stayed still while the body and legs were crazily twisting and kicking out. Horrible to witness and to hear.

There was no way I could get near it without causing both the deer and myself damage. It was hard to leave, but I had to, with the intention of returning later when it had calmed down, tired itself out, or managed to escape. Fortunately, when I did return an hour and a half later it was the latter. What a relief.

I have never to my knowledge been the cause of such fear before.

I hope that I never am again.

Swimming In The Rain

You can’t kill a man who’s already dead.

You can’t soak a man who’s already wet.

And when the songwriter’s song has made someone smile…

…you can’t offer them anymore success.

I went swimming in the Mediterranean while it rained, when I was in Spain, with two of my sons. Afterwards a song sprang forth as a celebration of the experience.

My sons laughed with abandon at the unintended innuendo.

And a few days ago I surprised them when I played them this recording. It’s the monthly “Fourth” release for June from yours truly.

The boys were delighted.


And that, ladies and gentlemen, is more than enough.

Springtime In The City?

From Wikipedia:
“On long, dark winter nights it is still the custom in small villages for friends to collect in a house and hold what they call a "ceilidh" (pronounced kay'lee). Young and old are entertained by the reciters of old poems and legendary stories which deal with ancient beliefs, the doings of traditional heroes and heroines, and so on. Some sing old and new songs set to old music or new music composed in the manner of the old.”

— Mackenzie, Donald A., Wonder tales from Scottish myth and legend, 1917, p. 14.[3]

This is what happened in Scotland back in the day.

Times change. The word Ceilidh now refers to a night of a particular kind of Scottish Dancing. Quite formal. Can be fun.

Now there are new words for what a Ceilidh used to be. I choose the word Homesong.

And they are not just for long, dark winter nights. Nor only for small villages.

The Tap Of A Foot

Here’s a great article from another blog on music in the community. I particularly like this:

music to many of us is about or used to be about participation and it was not just about being entertained or sung to, we were not separate from it, we are an integral part of it

Preach it brother. We’ve all got something to bring to the party. This is what every performer should remember…it’s not just about ME.

And it’s also what everybody who is there “to be entertained” could do to remember too. What have I got to bring to this?

Because everybody has got something to bring, where music is concerned. Even if it’s just the tap of a foot.

The Valley Below

Everybody went for a walk on Sunday after the wedding we attended in Italy. The end point, before returning, was one of those high swinging wire bridges. There was a 150 metre drop to the valley below, and it was possibly 100 metres from one side to the other.

Most of us did it. I was one of the ones for whom it was a big challenge. The voices of encouragement didn’t make much difference to that. It was a lonely journey across, focussing on the breathing, and nothing else. And the same on the way back this time having to let go of the wire rope supports for a moment, to pass a few people nonchalantly crossing as though their lives weren’t actually hanging in the balance.

Every fear looks daft to people who don’t have the fear.

But like most fears faced, it felt like a victory afterwards.

And I suspect it will make standing up and playing a song in front of people, seem a whole lot easier too.

Grazie Mille Italia!

I suppose if there is an excuse for missing the daily blog 3 days in a row, then attending the wedding in Italy of my nephew and his Italian bride is quite a good one.

As always with travelling abroad there was plenty of miscommunication leading to hours of hilarious fun. But the main event was a wonderful smorgasbord (or whatever the english/italian word for that is) of celebratory delight. A beautiful cross cultural marriage full of love, laughter and dancing.

The day itself, high in the Dolomite mountains, was very wet and stormy. The Norse gods, the Virgin Mary, The Saints, and Rabbie Burns all smiled down at the moment when rings were exchanged, as a massive peal of thunder rang out. Followed by the church bells.

The eating lasted for ever and the conversations were rich with friendship. In the evening The Italian father of the bride wore a kilt and proffered whisky. The dancing was of course even better as a result of that.

All in all a wonderful day and a special time. And even sitting here waiting for a delayed flight in the Marco Polo airport terminal in Venice (which like any airport anywhere, could in fact be anywhere) I am smiling as I remember the last few days.

Grazie mille Italia! Congratulazioni a Rory e Stefania!

Partying Like An Introvert

Extraversion and Introversion refer to our source of energy. Do we get it from being with people or from being alone?

An introvert can happily spend time in the company of people, partying like a mad thing. Yes we can! But at some point they will need to retire into the shadows to recharge the social batteries.

What that means in practise is that an introvert might turn down your invite to an event which, in theory, they would really enjoy, because of that depleted ability to socialise.

Introverts still need community though (just like extraverts need time alone) and they value it. But we experience it differently.

As an introvert, promoting music in the community, I don’t necessarily feel in the mood for the very thing I’m trying to promote.

But I recognise its importance, over and above my changing moods.

Becoming Aware

I could have written this myself.

“As a lifelong acoustic musician, I love having the chance to play music in such an intimate setting with minimal or no amplification, and I’ve also had wonderful experiences hosting house concerts with some of my favorite songwriters”

But I didn’t. This is a quote from Jeffrey Pepper Rogers, a songwriter I hadn’t heard of, who also happens to be quite a prolific writer on songwriting and guitar playing, and is the founding editor of Acoustic Guitar magazine.

I’m really quite unaware of so very much. Not blissfully so.

It’s not a good look to be ignorant about things that you really should know about.

I’m trying to make up for that.

Let’s Get Real

A good friend of a previous foster child of ours, kindly came to warn me about how something that a current foster child posted online three years ago had been resurrected to defame his name now.

The internet can be a cruel machine that twists and weaves, armed to deceive, leaving victims, innocent and otherwise, with damage to their emotions and mental health. And to their lives in their actual home neighbourhoods.

We are learning, and the next generation will need to learn even more thoroughly, that life needs to be grounded in real friendships, real geography, real communities, real people.

It needs that foundation regardless, because even glorious 5D Hyper HD Virtual Reality becomes meaningless without a real Reality to compare it to.

But it needs it all the more when the shit hits the fan, and when the lies and deceptions are placed into the hands of the witless bullies and the easily led, cloaked, via the dark magic of The Internet, in a veil of unanswerable Cyber “Truth”.

That is the moment when you need real people on your side.

Living On A Globe

At a loss.
Not a crossroads, more of a bend
That won’t stop bending
Without ending
No sign of the straight. Or narrow.
No light at the end of the tunnel.

Loads of roadsigns though.
Full of eastern promise.
But still there’s no pretending…
That this bend
Is showing no sign
Of ending
Any time soon.

Ooh, wait a minute.
That looked familiar.
I think I’ve been here before.

You don’t think it’s possible,
Whisper it from the rooftops,
That we’re living on a globe?

Always Somewhere

Today I’m travelling up The Long and Winding Road that inspired Paul McCartney to write the tune. Then back again this evening. It’s the trip we have to do if we want to get “anywhere”.

Being “a long way from anywhere” is a description people give for the distance we are from everybody else’s “somewhere”. It’s clearly not a normal place!

But most of us who are in that place, like it that way.

The truth is that everybody is somewhere. And it’s always a long way from anywhere.

Or in other words…

We’re all weird! And that could be the quality that united us, if we would only stop pretending that it’s we, and only we, who are the normal ones.

Everything Goes My Way

Isn’t it nice when everything works?

How good does it feel when you get a day like that, just after one in which NOTHING !!!£@!! WORKS?

It’s like walking out of the burning flames of hell into the sweet, soft light of a cherubic, angel-song, heaven.

Here’s to the days when everything goes my way

Because you’re worth it :)

Enough For Everyone

True story.

I did once have contact with someone who was hosting gigs in their home in the UK. I said hi, via email, and how nice it would be if there were lots of other people, like us, who were doing this sort of thing. Why not everywhere, in every neighbourhood, I asked. I put my best case forward for a growing network of grassroots music in homes.

They responded in a friendly way. But they also said how they enjoyed the fact that they were the only ones, that they knew, who was doing that sort of thing.

And up to a point I get where they were coming from. We all like to have our own unique signature. Some way to stand apart from the seething masses.

But the whole beauty of Homesongs, is that everyone is different, and always does have its own unique something. It’s not just that every home and host put’s a special stamp on things, but that every gig is different.

I’m hoping that first contact with another Homesonger wasn’t typical. It perhaps put me off trying to find The Others at the time.

But whoever we are, I don’t think it’s good to bottle up our “precious” and keep it to ourselves, when there is plenty enough for everyone.

Where Are They?

Here is a site that features Home Concerts in Europe.

The emphasis there is on “Concert”, and not on “Home”. Which is fine of course. That is clearly another way of doing music too, and I would go to one if the opportunity arose.

I’m pretty sure though, because of various rumours, whispers, and smoke signals I’ve received, that there are quite a few other places in Europe which have something more akin to the grass roots, donation based, intimate gatherings that I would associate with a Homesong.

There is a resistance movement out there, which is fighting the advancement of The Big. Quite a shy breed though, I think.

They are certainly not easily found via a google search. But it has now become my mission to find them. If only to say “Hi…I too am a fellow human being.”

If you’ve got any concrete information, please get in touch with me.

Thank you.

ps. Europe includes Britain ;-)

Life Is Life

Yesterday began with a positive result of the negative kind after my covid test. But undoubtedly finished with a positive of the most positive variety. Last night we heard that our fifth grandchild, a baby girl, had arrived.

She’s healthy and beautiful and we are over the proverbial moon.

Her name is Caya. Hard C, rhyming with “hiya”, as my daughter-in-law informed us. (She knows I’m going to write a song for the new arrival at some point, so probably hinting at potential lyrics).

Caya has been born into a wonderful family, with three brothers and a sister, as well as a mum and dad, who have been waiting eagerly to see her. And now they have.

We’re going to have to wait a while before we can be there in the flesh. But it is lovely to have these moments to cherish.

And sometimes you just need to celebrate. Because Life is Life.

Remembering

I am now a paid up member of C-lub 19.

Lucky to have very mild symptoms right now, as the majority of people seem to have with the latest variant. Most people are just wanting to get on with life. Me too.

But I don’t want to forget, because for some people it has been or continues to be an horrific and tragic experience. There was a memorial concert at the weekend for a musician friend, which I sadly couldn’t go to because I was isolating.

A while ago I wrote a song in his memory. I’ve not played it to anyone bar a couple of friends. I haven’t recorded it. Not sure even what to do with it, but here’s the lyric:

Gold On Black

I see a pretty goldfinch
Singing in the sun           
I think she’s come to help me 
To remember someone
For the gold that she is named for
And the feathers on her back
Owe their glory
To the colour black

Gold on black, gold on black
I wish I could bring that big man back
He made everybody 
Shine a little brighter
Gold on black
Gold on black 

At the foot of Ben Gullion
Lies a giant of a man
His heart is still beating
If anyone’s can
And there’s a smile on his face
And we smile back
It’s the glory 
Of the colour black

Gold on black, gold on black
I wish I could bring that big man back
He made everybody 
Shine a little brighter
Gold on black
Gold on black 

That Gold Finch flies away 
Like they do, like they do
And that Gold Finch flies away         
Like they do
That Gold Finch flies away 
Like they do, like they do
And that Gold Finch flies away 

Gold on black, gold on black
I wish I could bring that big man back
Gold on black, gold on black
I wish I could bring that big man back
Gold on black, gold on black
I wish I could bring that big man back
He made everybody 
Shine a little brighter
Gold on black
Gold on black

In memory of Robert Black

Doppelganger?

Well, how did I miss that? I’ve got a Doppelganger!

Turns out that there is another me out there, who has been doing something similar to what I’ve been doing with Homesong, but for longer and on a bigger scale.

”ConcertsInYourHome began in 2006 as the first global house concert website. Out of thousands of scattered events, artists, and house concerts, we created a community”.

The guy who started it is a singer/songwriter called Fran Snyder. He’s over in Florida, and I’ll be getting in touch, just to say “hi” really. The House “concert” situation in the USA is far more established than it is in Europe. It would be interesting for me at least to get some of his feedback.

Fran has even done something that I’m intending to do, and produced a couple of DIY guides for hosts and for musicians. Check out the site and the guides. I’ve signed up to do just that.

Is Homesong now redundant? My own feeling is “the more the merrier”. Most people I talk to about Homesongs, have still never heard of the idea, let alone experienced it for themselves. At least in my part of the world, Homesongs is really still an idea that is waiting for its day to come.

But it’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Space Man

Eurovision is a guilty pleasure for me. But without the guilt. Even though it’s a million miles away from the Homesong ethos.

Some songwriters and music lovers can get sniffy about all of that cheesy Euro glitz. But for me it’s a very life affirming show.

I love the weird randomness, humour, beauty, and poignancy that always emerges, buried, though it always is, in the midst of the more predictable, but glorious trifle mountain of camp techno bling.

And sometimes there is even some fantastic, and universally moving songwriting.

You may be aware that last night the UK’s song managed to breakthrough the sometimes daft Eurovision politics, to come in second place to the Ukranian song. Which in turn won, paradoxically, because of some wonderful and peace affirming Eurovision politics.

That result is what many people who follow this strange other musical world were hoping for. It felt right.

And Spaceman is simply a beautiful song, beautifully sung. Life affirming, like the show it was a part of. Which, at the end of the day, is the kind of destination that every songwriter is aiming for, whenever we light the burners and point our gaze skywards.

Kudos.



AD. other opinions are available

At Home In Hove

When you hear me banging on about home gigs, you might be under the impression that I’m the only one doing the things, or that I’ve got a patent on the idea. On the contrary, they’ve been around for a long while. In America quite a big thing. Also in some countries in Europe, like Germany and The Netherlands.

In the UK not so much. But they still happen. For instance, check out this one in Hove on the south coast of England. I love the way they talked themselves into it:

”There we were, sitting in Hove, lovers of music but too lazy to go out. So we thought 'why not use our newly-knocked-through front room to create an intimate space for musicians to perform?'. They can play their songs, sell their CDs and make a few quid - while we can bask in their reflected glory like the fame-whores we are. Mmmm...”

So don’t be shy to have a go yourself. There aren’t any qualifications needed. And you can call it a House Concert too if you like.

I’m going to keep calling them Homesongs. ;-)

The Path Remains

It has been pointed out to me that this blog has become more of a personal one about my own life philosophy, rather than the one about music in the community that it aspired to be.

And there is no denying it. It is what has happened.

I will be trying to find ways of addressing that, while at the same time continuing to share my personal angle on life and all of that schtick.
Because it turns out that it’s not hard to find words about something everyday. But it’s not very easy to find fresh words about one thing. But without a map from a previous traveller, you only find out where the path leads by going down it.

And in other important news….home gigs are a great thing.

You should try performing at one, or hosting one, or going to one near you. Not many people have that luxury at the moment. Which is, when push comes to shove, Homesong’s reason for existence.

It was good to be reminded. The path remains.