It seems I am jinxed. Someone out there has been busy with needles and wax effigy or has thrown a dark hex my way. “How so?” I hear you ask. Well it all began when I stepped into my local tube station with the intention of getting to the gig on time. I had left early, so that I could meet up with the Missus and have a bite to eat at one of those snazzy eateries on the South Bank, before tootling onto see Peter Hammill in concert. However, my Spidey-senses tingled as soon as I hit the station and the word “delays” echoed over the PA system.
What should have been a simple, 60 minute journey was stretched out beyond all recognition. Travelling from Debden to Stratford, which normally takes about 25 minutes, turned into a 90 minute marathon with the driver apologising profusely for there being signal failures at Bethnal Green. The problem with that bottleneck of the Central is that you are stuffed until you get to Stratford as there are no connecting trains, so I stood in cramped carriage and swallowed it down. I’ll be honest with you, I don’t like the Underground. I know it is a bit wimpy, but there’s something I just don’t like about the UK tube network. I always think it is on the edge of collapse and when we get stuck in a tunnel for a long period of time, my bowels begin to churn. But enough of the details, eh?
So when I did eventually get to The Missus, all hopes of having something to eat were out of the window and it was just a matter of walking to the venue and taking our seats. I was in a bad mood and didn’t particularly want to be there – my nerves were shot by the prolonged tube fiasco and I wanted a drink. Yes, I wanted a drink real bad. But I never drink before a gig as I believe music should be received untainted by alcohol, so I was very tetchy.
In this tour, Hammill was accompanied by violinist Stuart Gordon and I was interested in hearing how it would turn out as I hadn’t had the chance to pick up their collaboration “Veracious”. Tracks like a “A Better Time”, “Driven” and “Bubble” were stripped down and arranged in such a way that there was plenty of space for Gordon to fill in with his violin. I am not entirely sure if this approach worked. I mean those guys are great performers, but some of it just didn’t work for me and didn’t engage my senses. The only time things really started to get electric was during a harrowing performence of “Like Veronica”, a song about spousal abuse, which really went for the jugular. An old classic “The Birds” elicited whoops from the audience and I was particularly pleased when Hammill performed “Stranger Still” as the final song. It’s one of my favourites, but again the rearrangement jarred me, but all came good in the end. There was one encore with “A Way Out” and it was all over. While I thought it was an interesting night of music, I did find myself feeling slightly underwhelmed by the proceedings. Hammill, I felt, was a little off and a little sloppy in the guitar/piano department and Gordon’s violin, while sweet and soaring in places, began to grate after a while. Again, this is no slur on their performance, I just think a whole evening of this configuration is difficult listening, which can be a good thing sometimes. I guess my tube troubles had clouded my musical brain, which upset me.
After the show (yes, Hammill performed that song too), we headed out into the night and The Missus want to eat. Again, my Spidey-senses were tingling and, much to her annoyance, I insisted we went straight home. Good job too, because the tube was still up shit creek without a paddle. First there was the “Passenger Action” on the Jubilee Line (yes, those are two words you don’t want to hear on the Tube), so we hopped off and diverted to Bank station. There we waited ages for a train to Leytonstone, then had to wait there for a connecting train heading to Epping, which was another 20 minute wait. By the time we got home, it was 11.50pm and we’d left the concert at 9.30! The Missus remarked that in total, I had been travelling nearly four and a half hours on the Tube that evening for a round trip of less than two…
You’ve got to laugh, ain’t ya?
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Weird Al does it again.
For anyone who is following these postings, the reason I am putting up these video clips of me improvising or “making it up as I go along” is because I am trying to figure out a new methodology in my music. I feel I have gotten too safe lately and so by putting myself on show somewhat I can get my arse kicked by those who know better. Most of these improvised tunes aren’t that good, so I expected some bad reviews. And it didn’t take long to get a drubbing…
My most recent “improv” put down on 24 September was also posted on YouTube and I got a very perceptive comment from the mysterious “SrEspantoso” who commented “Too much money – too much technology”. This very perceptive because it is indeed true that what I lack in musical ability and talent, I make up for with technology. I would be the first person to say that I happily hide behind my racks of gear purely because I am not a musician in the classical sense of the word.
I find making music very difficult and it’s not like writing where I can happily string words together without even thinking about it. Music for me is tough and every tune and doodle takes effort as I am naturally not a musician. I took to music later than most, starting on and off with the bass at seventeen. I then moved onto guitar in my early 20s. I think for me, music is more about pushing myself forward and surprising myself rather than pleasing anyone else. And if you can’t please yourself, who can you please? But the comment got me thinking…it was a fair comment…and it was true. Again, I think I am presenting this weaker material purely so I can get sniped at. A bit of humble pie is good for the soul, etc. etc. But should I care about my approach?
I’ve known other hobby musicians who spend their time perfecting their craft – being happy that they’ve mastered their instrument and getting frustrated with their own limitations when they hit the artistic wall. I’ve never been like that. I’ve always just tried to write a tune that I like. I couldn’t give a fuck about how fast I play or if I am repeating myself or if I’ve nicked an idea from somewhere else. If I did care, I doubt I’d have had so much fun with my music. Indeed, I have recorded 90% crap, but in there somewhere is some tunes that I am proud of.
But what about the technology? Should I step away from it and try and do something a bit simpler? Should I forgo the electric guitar? I don’t know. I’ll just keep pressing the buttons until I come up with something better…
As for Mr SrEspantoso, I deleted his comment because I didn’t want the whole world to know what a complete and utter fraud I am! 🙂
Again, the idea is to produce a short improvised instrumental piece over a short riff. The mistakes are left in for your enjoyment:
Direct download: CLICK HERE
You can also get this if you are a subscriber to my podcast feed too.
This kind of left me feeling a little disturbed…
Look, he’s at it again!
Another day, another soundscape. This one starts of badly, but towards the end features a sweet flutey bit that works well.
Last night on TV, I watched the fascinating programme by Stephen Fry talking about being bi-polar. While I don’t think I have the condition, I understand the manic phases, the insomnia and the crashing depression. However, when I am up I am incredibly creative and will spend my time pouring myself into the music or whatever takes my fancy at the time and have no time for sleep or anything else. When I am down, a big black cloud descends and I can be a right moping misery for days on end with no energy to do anything. I always thought it was the creative spark at large and not a mental condition. Luckily, having a dog and a strong routine and a sense of optimism has banished the low-points. The thing that got me was when Fry was talking about the self-loathing and he kept reeling off a list of how wretched he was. I thought that was perfectly normal for an Englishman, or was that just me? Again, there was a time when I’d have a mental flash of all the mistakes I’d ever made in my life playback in my head like a flicker book and then I’d privately berate myself for being completely useless. It was a real eye opener, but at least I know I am not bi-polar, as I believe a lot of what happened to me was down to the “Young Man Blues”. As I get older, I am feeling a lot more comfortable in this skin.
And why do I keep getting the urge to write “bear” at the end of bi-polar…?