In between getting my back yard ready to seed a little lawn, preparing to reorganise and decorate my office/studio, feeding the tribe, with all the hunting and gathering that entails, and a little dusting(!), I am making some fresh recordings of songs of mine. For expediency’s sake, but also because I like the sound of the results, I am keeping it as simple as possible. (more…)
This musical life is fraught with disappointment. I expect too much. Ideally I would go about my business with no expectations whatsoever. Yet at the heart of any business is the hope that sustained effort will reap some measurable reward.
I believe that playing music is its own reward. I write songs, sing them to people when the opportunity arises, make recordings of them, all because I love doing so. People do appreciate what I do and I am grateful for their feedback and support. I even earn a few shekels once in a while.
So why do I get disappointed? One reason is that I want to do better work. I believe I can sing better, play better and write better, and that I will do if I keep working at it. Which is one reason why I always loved this song….
The other cause of disappointment is the sense of deserving a little more recognition for my work. In my heart I know full well this is folly and a waste of good energy, but I still cant quite shake it.
Still, tonight I will play in a tiny pub, a place I enjoy performing, to a group of people I like very much. I confidently expect to earn next to nothing and have a great time. At such times it is easier to remind myself how lucky I am, and why I do what I do…..because I love it!
The Whateverly Brothers live in a pub and looking sorta Irish! Happy St Paddy’s Day!
Like everyone I presume, I get emails that impart scandalous information about the rich and powerful’s ongoing efforts to destroy the planet. While they keep us topped up with drink and drugs, and glued to TV sports shows and celebrity bosh, we are all quietly being shafted. Ho hum…
Occasionally, before I can stop myself, my knees jerk, and I forward the juicy titbit to a bunch of friends. I always regret doing this. Its hardly ever the whole story, and often as not, its biased and inaccurate. Sensationalism, by its very nature, has scant regard for the truth.
Within 24 hours of my knees jerking, I will generally receive a handful of emails from my more patient friends, pointing out discrepancies in whatever I sent them, and directing me to links where I might find opposing views, or at least fuller assemblies of facts. Suitably chastised, I respond with limp apologies, and renew my determination to desist in future from swallowing such drivel whole.
This scenario played out again recently, and one musical pal wisely responded in the following way, ‘…I guess man WILL kill himself… we haven’t failed at that yet!…Now let’s get back to something we can do… music!’ Thank you Paul.
What can we do? Canvas, lobby, plead and demonstrate for better behaviour? Vote for better leaders? Run for office ourselves? Bloody revolution? None of the above hold much appeal, or promise much chance of success.
So instead, let us pray for guidance to better know, love and serve God, take care of our families, and make fruitful use of our talents. And may I direct you to a Whateverly Brothers song, when all else fails, which restates this time honoured advice.
I have been curiously quiet recently. Here in the land of blog, at any rate. I like to think I’m finally learning that when I’ve nothing much to say I do well to keep my mouth shut. So rather than churn out doggerel on my blogs -bloggerel?- I have confined my noise making to the musical variety. A couple of enjoyable gigs, but mostly making recordings in my little home studio.
My recycled opinions on the state of things will surely resurface soon enough, but in the meantime I’m sure we are all very glad of the break.
There is a Whateverly Brothers song that light-heartedly addresses this issue right here. Enjoy!
My preferred New Years resolution this year is to listen more and say less. Mmmm….
Last Saturday, January 23rd, was Django Reinhardt‘s 100th birthday. This morning a friend pointed out to me that BBC radio had provided precisely nothing by way of celebration for this extraordinary man’s centennial. What a great shame, and what a criminal lack of respect for one of the giants of 20th century popular music.
I was made aware of the date by American friends via the internet. I wonder to what extent the French celebrated. More than us I expect. Though he was born in Belgium, France is where his musical genius blossomed and grew. Surely at least the gypsy communities paid their respects. In uproarious fashion, lets hope.
Here is a fabulous clip of Django and young Stephane Grappelli and their Hot Club cohorts. I defy you to resist their magic!
Its 3 weeks away, but I am about to record a song of mine, ‘Wont You Be My Valentine’, so I’ve been doing a little research.
Our traditions would suggest that he is the patron saint of romantic love. Who was he? The origin of St. Valentine, and how many St. Valentines there were, remains a mystery. One opinion is that he was a Roman martyred for refusing to give up his Christian faith. Other historians hold that St. Valentine was a temple priest jailed for defiance during the reign of Claudius. Whoever he was, Valentine really existed. Archaeologists have unearthed a Roman catacomb and an ancient church dedicated to Saint Valentine. In 496 AD Pope Gelasius marked February 14th as a celebration in honor of his martyrdom. (more…)
Songs are like kisses. They are there and then they are gone.
The urge to sing is like the urge to kiss. Until you do, you may writhe in an agony of anticipation.
The joy of singing resembles the pleasure of kissing. Sweet relief. They are both tender, pure and true.
And a good song, sung again and again, withstands endless variations. Each performance remains fresh, like lovers kisses.
Songs are like kisses. They are there and then they are gone. But there’s always more where they came from…xxxxx
Yesterday was a funny day. I managed to do a number of small but necessary things, but the day slipped away to a point where I had to abandon my plans to go swimming. It was bitterly cold, but also very beautiful. Brilliant sunshine illuminated a vivid blue sky.
In order to contribute something to my miserable exercise regime, I decided to go for a bike ride. Off I set, choosing to go down to the river and turn left, instead of turning right towards town as I usually do. What a treat. (more…)
Here is one more(!) holiday song for you to have, new years eve 2009
As the December party season grinds on, the grand finale looms. Amateur night. People who barely touch a drink for the rest of the year, feel compelled to drink themselves stupid, and often sick, on New Years Eve.
For us jaded party professionals, the best option may be to go to bed early and wake up sober. Get a head start on the new year. I once took advantage of the low fare and flew to the UK from New York on December 31. Stepped off the plane at Heathrow to cold, but brilliant sunshine, sober as a kitten. Felt good. (more…)