• Category Archives history
  • No Happy Songs

    This last week, one of the incredible bloggers I follow online (The Bloggess) let us all know she’s been struggling with depression. In fact, it’s something that she struggles with regularly and is really open about. What she’s learned, writing her blog that’s a great mix of socially inappropriate and bizarre humour along with some inspiring and very open writing on mental health struggles, is that being open helps people. She’s even built an online community full of people who are supportive…If you’re feeling down and want a laugh, go read. If you’re feeling down and need to reach out, go read and comment. I watched the comments save a life this last week.

    And that’s probably why this particular topic (on my list of possible topics…cos I do keep a list…) jumped out at me as I pondered what to write for my blog this week. It’s this little mass of things all around music that isn’t happy. And it will answer a question I never answered before.

    Really, there are two questions I’m answering here. Let’s start with the one I never answered. And because I feel like this is important, I’m going to break some of my own privacy rules. Hopefully, someday some way this helps somebody. Because if I can shine some light out, my life has been worth it 🙂

    “Why don’t you listen to happy music?”

    When I was less on top of my depression, because I’m one of the many who has some depression issues (I’m not going to elaborate here…some other time, maybe…), many well-intentioned people asked that question in some way or another.

    “Isn’t the music you listen to making it worse?” was another way it was phrased.

    I was always inclined toward the unhappy stuff…the sad, the angry, the heartbroken, the frustrated, the lost, the pining…And, surely, I ought to counteract that by listening to happy music, right?

    Some of you are saying, “Right!” Maybe cos you never struggled with depression or maybe cos, for you, that actually worked.

    But some of you are shaking your heads, backing away from that advice slowly…carefully…aware of the danger it holds.

    You see, when I listened to happy music (I tried…I really did), it made things worse. Sometimes, it was just too jarring. Sometimes, it felt like it was pushing me toward mania. Sometimes, it just made me feel like I was the only pathetic loser who couldn’t be happy like everyone else. That happy music was just nasty razor claws slashing at my little heart and brain as it pushed me closer to the ugly feelings that were already attacking me. It was screaming, scrabbling ants in my brain or the mockery of every popular person at school who was making themselves feel better by putting me down.

    In short, really, really not good. (Plus, honestly, music vs physiological factors causing depression doesn’t seem like a fight music can win…So a bit of a misguided bit of advice for a girl whose issues weren’t all in her mind, if you will.)

    The one exception, which only worked out sometimes, was if I could dance to it. If I was in a place where I could put all that energy and scrabbling into the physical act of dancing. Even then, it wasn’t joyful, happy, depression-free dancing. It was frenetic and desperate. It was like trying to exorcise my demons. And since a girl can’t literally spend her whole life dancing…And since there’s little release in that sort of dancing (lucky if the release of the dancing balanced out the horrible feelings the music created)…Yeah, not a case for the happy music.

    On the other hand, there was the music I was listening to…the sad, the angry, etc etc etc…

    To be fair, yes, it did move me to tears or to violence (though, to my credit, I didn’t go out hitting other people or even putting holes in the walls of my room…but I did enjoy mosh pits and I kicked a lot of empty boxes into bits, among other things). But the actions that music pushed me toward actually did feel like a release. At the end of a desperate night sobbing, for instance, I did feel lighter for just a moment. A blessed, blessed moment. (Though, just because it’s one of my little pet peeves about when depression is misunderstood, the fact I was crying does not mean that depression is the same thing as just feeling sad. Very much not the case…)

    Younger me moping
    See? I couldn’t even take happy pictures :p

     

    There was more to it, though. And here’s where I transition…Finishing up answering the first question whilst answering part of the second question.

    “If you believe in light…if you’re a positive person now…if you’re the sweetheart you seem to be…if you’re on top of your depression…why is your music not happy music?”

    These days, I can listen to happy songs. I mean, I will probably go mad if it goes all silly and chipper for long bits of time…but I have days where the song stuck in my head is exultant…hopeful…happy.

    But I’ve only written a couple of songs that are happy songs. The rest are sad, angry, heartbroken, frustrated, lost, pining…

    And here’s my two-part answer. Part one is the second part of my answer to the first question.

    When I listened (still listen) to the songs that aren’t happy, they help(ed) me. I knew that someone else had felt something like what I was feeling. That many of them felt it and survived it. That they could even turn it into something beautiful. I wasn’t the only one. I wasn’t the only pathetic loser who couldn’t be happy like everyone else. There were others, which meant we…we weren’t pathetic losers. We were just one other kind of human experience. And we could survive it. Sure, some of those who made the songs I love(d) ended their lives. But most didn’t. Most kept surviving. And, oh, they made music. Music!

    That music, even when it pushed me to tears or violent actions, made me feel better. It didn’t heal me, but it also helped pull me just enough back from the edge…To quote one of those songs:

    “But don’t forget the songs
    That made you cry
    And the songs that saved your life”

    -The Smiths, Rubber Ring

    So, one reason I write that sort of song is in the sincere hope that someone (you or someone you love maybe) will find that one of my songs does for you what all those not-happy songs did for me. Cos you’re not alone. You’re not the only one. And, like me, you can find a way to make it through. And maybe, just maybe, there’s music or art in you. You won’t just make it through, but you’ll turn the horrible things you’re feeling into art. There are few greater things one can do…(And even if you can’t do that, you can allow yourself to learn compassion from what you’ve felt…to reach out to someone else, so that we create a chain of people who have helped keep each other from falling into the pit.)

    The second part of my answer is a bit more selfish.

    Yes, I now consider myself a positive and optimistic person. But that doesn’t mean my depression is gone. It doesn’t mean my sadness, anger, heartbreak, etc etc etc are gone. They aren’t; I doubt they will ever entirely go. I doubt, even if I didn’t have physiological things that tend me toward them, that life on this planet ever lets anyone be entirely free of those emotions.

    But I learned, from the songs I love and from all those therapists who suggest art for therapy, that I can turn them into songs, and that helps. It’s like siphoning out some of my poison and turning it (I hope) into the antivenin. Even the belief that getting it out of me and putting it into the world is helpful is, in itself, helpful.

    There are other reasons, but those are the important ones. Those are the ones that matter for this post.

    What I always found strange was that the right sort of encouraging songs were okay. They weren’t happy and telling me I was broken…They were acknowledging that things were broken but it was worth it to keep fighting…That maybe, just maybe, I was warrior enough. Turns out, I was never allergic to hope, even when I trash-talked it. Maybe that’s why, without meaning to, I left little seeds of hope in most of my songs. May they grow up to big, beautiful trees in your soul. May they bear the fruit that feeds you and keeps you fighting through all the ugly things inside of you and outside of you. Let me put down roots in your heart…

    xxx


  • Clearing the Pipes

    2012-05-10

    And, I’m back! Here’s a quick catch up so that I can get to my longer, ponder-y post that’s the official “every second Saturday of the month” post in a couple days. (And, yes, that means at least a monthly post, but there might be others….like this one!) Mainly, this is to get you up-to-date on topics that have been mentioned here before, just in case you haven’t also been following things on Varnish pages and sites.

    • We released Each to Each (a sort of maxi-EP, if you will) 1 December, 2011. It’s got the 5 studio tracks, plus 3 live tracks (of lesser production quality) that I threw on. It’s only available as a digital download at this time. Much love and thanks to all involved in making it happen.
    • In order to put all his musical energy into Post Adolescence, Johnny stepped down as bassist. Yes, in fact, I am gutted. But we’re all still friends, so that’s a happy thing. Don’t want to think what life would be like without my best friend.
    • Mentioned in one of the first posts that my mum didn’t like our music. Somewhere about midway between that post and when she passed away, she told me (out of the blue) that she did, in fact, really like a couple of our songs. That was a seriously happy thing for me to hear.
    • I’m going to shift things here a bit so that the focus on this blog is more to do with me, including Varnish things specific to me. Not that I was posting loads of band business here, but I’ve got so many updates on the Varnish main site, the Facebook, and Twitter that you’ve got plenty of sources for Varnish information. And I hope you’ll join us one or more of those places, cos your support and love are huge to us.
    • I am still a big hippie, believing in love and light and the great worth of all people. Plus, organic food and treating animals well and taking care of the environment. And so forth. I’d apologise for not being rock ‘n’ roll enough, but I feel pretty good about it. Heh.

    And now, back to work. Cos taking care of my band is a full-time job!
    xxx

    ps Here is a picture of my cat. Doesn’t his cuteness make you forget (or at least forgive me for) how long it’s been since I posted here?

    Does this NY Met bag make me look cultured?


  • 25 albums

    yes, i’m compensating for quietness with a second post today. however, this one is a bit of a cheat. one of the memes going around facebook is:

    “Think of 25 albums that had such a profound effect on you they changed your life or the way you looked at it. They sucked you in and took you over for days, weeks, months, years. These are the albums that you can use to identify time, places, people, emotions. These are the albums that no matter what they were thought of musically shaped your world.”

    and because this is about me and music, i thought i’d cross post. but here are a few disclaimers:

    • i wrote this over a few days, so it’s a bit dodgy in quality.
    • i just took the first 25 albums that came to mind, so this isn’t a complete list of albums that fit the criteria or even necessarily the top 25 in said list.
    • some of this stuff might show up again in later entries. i’m not going to apologise.
    • this is all about whole albums, not about individual songs. that’s a different list. and just having one song that owns me on it is not enough to make this list.
    • these are not in any particular order. just the order they fell out of my brain.

    that said, here’s my rather verbose response. feel free to share some of your own albums that fit this criteria in comments. you might even inspire me to drag out something i had forgotten about or to find something new.

    1. david bowie – the rise and fall of ziggy stardust and the spiders from mars. first album i recall hearing as a kid. first record i owned (still have the vinyl). probably did a lot to shape what i think of as great music and attractive men…plus, before itunes, this was the album i put in when i was trying to decide what i wanted to listen to. it is always the right choice.
    2. placebo – placebo. in actuality, it was a crappy bootleg recording of a show in late 1995 that my mate went to. he mailed a copy to me, sure i’d love the music and–though there were not yet pictures–the singer. oh. my. stars. this was the best thing i got out of that friendship.
    3. nine inch nails – pretty hate machine. it was really the first of its kind. and i still think it’s his bet work. it so clearly expressed the anger and betrayal i was feeling when it came out. and the live show when he toured in 1991 was intense.
    4. the cure – disintegration. i’m a huge cure fan in general. and if this hadn’t come along, i’d be listing some other album by them here. but there were a few weeks when i listened to this and pretty hate machine over and over…i was a mess and i really felt like all the depression and loss and longing i was feeling were adequately summed up here.
    5. manic street preachers – generation terrorist. i feel really lucky that i had mates in the uk years ago so that i didn’t miss out on all the good music. this was just one of those albums that spoke to me. yeah, it sounds cheesy, but that’s the way it was. and this was before i saw richey. yum. even now, i listen and i remember that moment of feeling like, yeah, someone understood. i mean, the punks got my anger and the goths got my depression…but the manics just got the jumble of all that together.
    6. ac acoustics – victory parts. i don’t just like them because they share my love of lowercase. i am a fan of the poetry and the fuzziness and the way that sometimes it builds and crashes around me. this was their first album that i heard. again, bless the mates in the uk…it echoed both the issues i was going through at the time and the way that they felt…like everything else on this list, i still listen to it loads and find it’s great for listening to as i fall asleep. kind of settles me deep into who i am and have been and still has songs that are too relevant to where i am now…
    7. lamb – lamb. i got this in the mail from one of my oldest friends right after he got it. he knew it would connect with me as it did with him. and the track he pointed out as amazing was the first to put hooks in me and leave marks. but the whole album is that way now. it very quickly became that, in fact. the drums are amazing. and the lyrics…man, some of these songs still make my throat get tight after all these years…
    8. placebo – black market music. i’m going to feel bad for only pointing out a couple of the placebo albums, because i really did listen to each way too much when it first came out. and continue to do so. i just found this one striking because it was still clearly placebo, but there was this updated and danceable twist on some tracks. whilst other tracks carried through the brooding tones that let me know that this band might just understand my damage.
    9. pj harvey – dry. i know that a lot of girls will note sonic youth as what blew their mind in terms of how they saw women in rock. for me, it was this album. this girl was raw and open and saying things i totally got. she was the one who pushed my whole concept of women in rock over the edge. i mean, sure, there was patti smith. but that was punk. this wasn’t quite punk, so i hadn’t suspended my expectations and such for this one…and, really, every album she has put out has kept pushing at my ideas.
    10. yazoo – upstairs at eric’s. long before alison moyet became how i taught myself to sing, this was a staple of my youth. it had everything….i could dance, i could cry, i could lie on a friend’s bed as he clicked the lights off and on to “i before e except after c” and i tripped out without drugs. (thanks, phil.)
    11. peaches – the teaches of peaches. first, i laughed. not because it was funny. wow. the mouth on this broad…i think it was the audacity of her, though she wasn’t saying anything that hadn’t been said. but, you know, women still seem to pull back from being this…blunt most the time. the first track on this album has been stuck in my head the last few days, so that may be why this is bumping out other albums that could be on this list. but, yeah, i listened to it over and over and never grew less delighted.
    12. amanda palmer – who killed amanda palmer. i love dresden dolls, but this solo album really caught on me. it started with a few songs that really dug in and can still make me choke up, but the whole thing eventually owned me for a few days. hmz…i’m actually kind of surprised and pleased to see that there are recent things on my list.
    13. ours – distorted lullabies. i was blown away when i first heard this. the boy has range (when i saw him in the fall, it was insane to see it live) and writes great lyrics. and the music has this sort of anthemic quality for me. it is far too often relevant to where i am, keeping it in regular rotation when i’m not just using shuffle to decide on music. for added points, when i saw ours in the fall and they played my favourite song–which is on this album, it’s the only time i’ve been standing next to someone who was singing along and felt like my experience was better because i could hear the person singing along.
    14. portishead – dummy. admittedly, the first time i heard portishead, i turned on the radio in the middle of some girl whining “nobody loves me” and i quickly switched channels. but soon after i was having tea and talking deep stuff with a friend and this album was on. and i could barely pay attention to the conversation. too many songs to past hurts and present hopes for me to just listen once.
    15. nick drake – five leaves left. this was the first nick drake i heard, and it sort of wound its way into me. i can’t easily say which my favourite nick drake album is. but this was sort of a timeless melancholy. and we all know i’m a fan of that sort of thing. and yet, there was a sweetness. i think i loved that. so often, people miss that there can be a sweetness in all the downs.
    16. the sugarcubes – life’s too good. before everyone knew bjork, some of us got an earful of the sugarcubes (her band prior to going solo, just in case you missed it). it’s a much rougher, rawer version of her. she yowls and yodels and shrieks….i was just so intrigued by her technique, or lack thereof. i felt like she was improvising in the studio, like they’d never played these songs before.
    17. patti smith – horses. i feel like this is one i shouldn’t even need to explain…
    18. the velvet underground – the velvet underground and nico. i had this on cassette and had to replace it often. it isn’t just considered an essential and standard album that all us non-normal kids ought to check out for nothing. this isn’t hype. this is the root of a lot of where we went with underground music. also, it got back into heavy rotation when i was 16 and a boy that i was all unrequited for cruelly wrote me a love letter he didn’t mean (though i didn’t know it at the time) that included lyrics from the album.
    19. tricky – pre-millennium tension. this album made me feel dirty, in a really good way. it made me (and often still makes me) want to shag someone. and i don’t mean tenderness or making love. i mean steamy, sweaty, moan-filled, filthy sex. and then sometimes it makes me want to cry. none of the other albums that make me want to grab someone and get dirty make me want to cry….weird.
    20. siouxsie and the banshees – the scream. at this point, we didn’t have goth. this was punk. and this broad was one of the few female voices that stood out to me. and one of the only ones where i liked a whole album and not just individual songs. i was so used to music that i liked, that was strong, having male voices. or, like patti smith, feeling more like poetry to music….this kicked my bum.
    21. the stranglers – black and white. what can i say? i am a little punk rock girl at heart. this album was one that made me bop around as i listened. and, you know, not all the albums i listen to over and over need to make me cry.
    22. johnny cash – american. yeah, it was multiple cds. but it’s all one piece of work, so shove it. i always dug on johnny cash. the original man in black. the “country” singer who was punk in his attitudes. but this set of cds that took songs from others and gave them the johnny cash treatment…wow. i admit freely that i sobbed my way through “hurt” the first time i listened, for instance. it just proved his continued relevance and talent, that he could be himself and so clearly connect with these songs.
    23. sinéad lohan – no mermaid. stumbled across her the first time as i walked in to the first lillith faire. yeah, that’s right, i went to the first and second lillith faires. suck it. as i recall, i was in the midst of some hurt and her songs spoke to that. and this album was hypnotic when i got it. everything just felt like…wheels turning. like on a train where it seems slow and steady and lulls you into peace. the lyrics aren’t always easy, which leaves room for my current troubles. i like that.
    24. the sex pistols – never mind the bollocks here’s the sex pistols. yes, yes. it’s a cliché for a girl with punk roots. but if you were there…you remember how it just ripped through things. no, they weren’t the best or anything. but this was great when you were pissed and just wanted to kick things. or those moments you thought maybe all the world needed was to be shocked out of complacency. plus, if johnny rotten could be a singer, so could i….
    25. falco – 3. yeah, i know, you only know rock me amadeus and der kommissar. but this is one i really need to buy, instead of just having the greatest hits. he wasn’t just humorous. jeanny always stabbed my heart, for instance, even though i didn’t understand much of it. (i asked my mum to translate once, and that only made it ache more.)

  • those troubled teens…

    (i just wanted to start by noting that i am determined to post at least monthly. eventually, i’d like to post every other week…maybe more. but let’s not get too crazy with expectation just yet…)

    i’d say that music in my life didn’t really do anything new (you know, beyond soaking up what my dad and brother were playing) until i started sinking into my teen years. that i was a troubled teen in some ways won’t surprise you. to be fair, i was rather well-behaved for the most part and got good grades. but i didn’t look like the other kids, which caused issues. and that’s when those behavioural issues from childhood went from being a manic merry-go-round to being a rampant rollercoaster. but we aren’t here to talk about that. maybe in the future. right now, this blog is about music, right?

    i think i really started exploring music on my own when i was about 10 or 11. that’s when i got my first radio. it was actually a boombox, with a radio and a cassette player. i thought that was pretty bloody cool. i spent hours going up and down the dial, just listening to my options.

    what i quickly learned was that my options were not great. maybe it was because we lived just too far from cities to get the good stations. i recall through my teens the frustration that i could hear the ghost of live 105 in san francisco but could never really tune it in. that said, with my own supply of cassettes being quite small, i would just let the radio play on whichever station was least soft rock. which is how i learned a few too many top 40 songs for my own good. and why i loved when my brother bought new music. when he left on a church mission and left his music in my care, i quickly wore out and had to replace a few of his cassettes. i think i still have 3 squealing copies of a particular bowie album…

    fortunately, the teen years also brought dances and new friends. yes, i went to dances. because, as i will surely go on about in a post of its own, i love to dance. madly. so i went and mostly heard rubbish. but every now and again something else snuck in that was quite alright. and when i started going to clubs (hurrah for clubs that don’t care about id as long as you’re a pretty girl!), the “quite alright” to crap ratio improved. i sucked it all up. though, by this point, it was becoming quite clear i was not a top 40 girl, not once new wave songs stopped hitting top 40 regularly.

    and new friends…in my teens, the people around me were suddenly as interested in talking music as i was. as a bonus, having pen pals was all the rage with the underground kids. i had a handful of pen pals during those years and loved the little booklets we sent around in letters that were like mini personal ads for us to find even more pen pals. (as a side note, there are pen pals i’d love to find again–one of whom literally saved my life a time or two. and there’s one that i bumped into on facebook recently. crazy!)

    one fab thing about the pen pals and the local friends was that we were all a bit mad for mix tapes. i got so much good music that way. i still have all those tapes, too.

    it was in my teens that i really started to internalise the way that music and lifestyle roll together. i’m not a fan of letting your musical tastes dictate how you dress, act, or live. nor am i a fan of letting your taste in clothes narrow your musical tastes. i’m surprisingly eclectic and often listen to things people wouldn’t guess if they looked at me. but it is undeniable that music and the rest of my life started to become one coherent whole at this point. any memory i have of my teen years will include how i looked, what my emotional state was, and what song fit it or was playing.

    this was when i desperately started to want to make music my life. it turned from a childhood imagining into a craving. sadly, 11 was the age at which “the great fiasco” happened and smacked that dream into a sort of shameful and impossible fantasy status. so, what was the great fiasco?

    well, it turned out that my family was asked to be responsible for the programme at church one sunday. with little warning, i was pushed out in front of everyone, along with my 3 younger siblings, to sing a hymn. now, as you’ll recall, childhood deafness has really messed up my singing situation. and nothing had been done to remedy that. so there i was, entering that awkward and self-conscious age, and i was seriously failing to sing that hymn well. at the point, i vowed i would never sing in front of people again. no joke. which meant that all those years i was acting i never tried out for musicals (thus, i learned to do some lighting instead). and when i was in the touring children’s theatre group, i was mortified at the one bit where i had to ad lib a melody for a very short song. torture!

    when i was 14 or 15, i tried again to revive the dream. i gave some of the lyrics i had written to a friend, and was promptly informed that i broke too many rules and this would never work. my complete lack of self-esteem and i took that hard and shut up. buried the dream. it only came out where nobody else could see…

    so instead i spent hours and hours just lying on my bed, listening to music. eyes closed and mind full of other places. if i left the house, my walkman came with me. if i heard something new i liked, i made every effort to play it cool but was secretly scribbling notes so that i could go find it once i had money. i hung out at the music shops at the mall, even when i had no money, just hoping to hear things. fortunately, i made friends with boys there, so it wasn’t conspicuous.

    and that all just rolled over into the rest of my life. as new ways to listen to music showed up, i had to find ways to acquire that technology. i still crave new music. and i savour those rare times i can just lie and listen to music. mix tapes are long gone, replaced by mix cds and emailed playlists. but i’m still that teen me when it comes to music. ravenous for it. listening to it as much as i can. desperately wanting it to be my life. dancing when i can. framing most my moments, even if just mentally, in the songs that fit them. rescuing myself with just the right song…

    i think this is likely a jumbled and chaotic entry…but that’s probably appropriate, given the way those teen years and early 20s felt. given the way that, starting in my teens, music became a force that was practically sentient, practically its own creature. like a spontaneous and moody lover. and we all know what that will do to your life…


  • and then i was deaf…

    we aren’t sure when it happened, because i was one of those precocious kids who was able to read body language and fake my way through hearing tests. i didn’t do it on purpose, mind. i just wanted to pass the test. so at first the signs of my hearing loss blended in with my behavioural issues. (you aren’t surprised that i had behavioural issues as a child, are you?) in fact, i’m not even sure how they caught it. i’m just glad they did.

    what i do know is that, at the tender age of 5 (maybe 6), i was legally deaf. not completely deaf. but to watch tv, for instance, they had to plug headphones in and turn the tv to maximum volume. and if i was in the back of the car and my parents wanted my attention, they had to yell as loudly as possible to have even a slight chance. fortunately, this was solved by putting tubes in my ears. (though it started to go bad once the tubes fell out, at which point some nice naturopath gave me some little white pills…and the hearing loss and constant earaches disappeared for good.)

    clearly, as a music lover and musician, hearing loss is a big deal in general. in my case, it also affected my path through music. you see, the church i belong to is all about the singing. and it seems like everyone is working from day one to sing well. this is great and means we have loads of good singers. but my hearing issues meant that, for a while, i was the only person in my family who just plain sucked. all i knew how to do, really, was sing really loudly (so i could hear myself). and it was probably more shouting than singing, as i didn’t exactly know about using my diaphragm at that age.

    like most people, i eventually came to take my hearing for granted again. and because all signs were that i just wasn’t a singer, i didn’t figure it mattered too much what happened with my ears. as long as i could hear music and hear well enough to do theatre, no worries.

    now, however, i’ve got a very different attitude. one might say a touch of paranoia. because now that i know i’m a singer, now that making music is my future…i don’t dare lose my hearing. which means i ought to do better at wearing earplugs to noisy events, even friends’ gigs. even my own gigs and loud practices. that i don’t allows me to say it’s just a touch of paranoia instead of a load. but i still carry my earplugs in my purse. and i still make myself wear them at most shows, even if i feel like i don’t quite get the whole experience. i may be inclined toward some reckless behaviours these days, but i can’t afford to damage the tools of my trade.

    the moral of this story is that kids are sometimes too clever for their own good and are lucky to get caught. and also that earplugs are your friend.


  • first gig

    taking a break from pre-history to share some tidbits about modern history. about the first varnish gig, which was my first gig ever.

    i went into my first gig with a modest set of goals:

    1. don’t leave the stage to pee during the set. (i had been fending off illness and drinking even more than my usual loads of water….this was a very challenging goal to meet.)
    2. don’t let down my best friend. he had gotten us the gig and i didn’t want him to regret it. secretly, i wanted to do more than not embarrass him; i wanted to make him proud and make him like me more and want to get us more gigs.
    3. oh, and it would be nice if i weren’t totally mortified with our performance. (i am really self-critical, so that isn’t a joke.)

    i also went into that gig knowing:

    1. we had some great songs.
    2. i was a good lyricist.
    3. i was a good performer.

    and here is how this all came together:

    1. all goals achieved! i am pretty sure i grinned like a complete idiot when the best friend told me we’d done really well. good thing there were no cameras.
    2. the monitors were really good, so i could hear myself really clearly. and people who were not drunk, were not there for varnish, and were not hitting on me told me i had an amazing voice. which means i could finally add to my list of things i knew that i was a good singer.

    my friend celeste, who ran the video camera (i told you i’d mention you by name, missy) and has always felt free to give loads of feedback on the efforts i make at music, told me that she saw when i started to believe. and that everything got better then.

    so the most important thing i got from that, aside from popping my gig cherry, was belief in myself as a singer. leaving me with a burning need to make sure that the boys in the band believed in themselves and that my friends in other bands believed in themselves. because as awesome as their performances were, i had now learned that believing in yourself (and i don’t mean having some cocky ego trip, because that’s usually rooted in insecurity) lets you do a better job and enjoy what you’re doing more.

    and maybe that seems like a very obvious thing to you, but i gotta take my enlightenment where i can get it. even if it sounds like a cheesy greeting card.


  • yes, i have a mum

    before things go too far, i thought i should mention where my mum fits into all this. if i just talk about my dad, you may think he was a single parent. which isn’t the case. it’s just that, to be honest, i’m not sure that mum’s contribution of neil diamond had much of an influence.

    now, i won’t pretend i can’t sing along with a song or two, especially songs from the jazz singer soundtrack. i am not here to start some sort of “amber hates neil diamond” drama. i mean, wearing a black neil diamond t-shirt at college caused great confusion and glee. (the most visible thing on the shirt, from a distance, was “diamond,” which caused many people to believe it must be a king diamond shirt.) but, really, i’ll be interested in hearing if anyone can locate the influence of mr. diamond or his peers in our music.

    mum’s interaction with the music i like has been pretty limited as well. whilst i was learning to drive and she was in the car, she did get a carefully selected exposure to things i liked. but it became clear that she wasn’t really engaged when she noted, not using names but saying things like “that last band” and “this band,” that the smiths were much happier music than the cocteau twins. i guess that means i need not have been so worried about what she might think of the lyrics…

    as far as her response to my music…well, let’s just say she isn’t a fan and leave it at that. and let’s also say that i wasn’t surprised and not really hurt by that. so it’s okay.

    and that is why you are unlikely to hear much about mum here. not that i plan to talk much about the other members of my family either. but i thought i should at least acknowledge that i have a mum and she was very present in my life but doesn’t really have much to do with my music.


  • how it all started

    not to be overly conventional, but let’s start this at the obvious place.

    my dad loves music in a crazy way. and my older brother is much the same. so i can probably put part of the blame for my “condition” on genetics. and, of course, growing up in a house where there was so much loved of music meant that there was always music being played. both nature and nurture conspired to turn me into what i am. fortunately, the music they were listening to was pretty good.

    dad teethed me on bowie, hendrix, joplin, the velvet underground, and all those other things your classic rock station plays or your adult contemporary station mixes in with the newer stuff. i wasn’t allowed to touch the reel-to-reel, so i had to wait for him if i wanted something other than a record or cassette. but he once had these pulsing lights plugged into the stereo so that we could lay on the floor in the living room and watch the lights pulse with the music. he was the person who introduced me to the concept of underground music and who would happily turn up “walk on the wild side” when it was just the two of us in the car. i’m fairly certain he was the one who gave me the “rise and fall of ziggy stardust and the spiders from mars” record. he is certainly the person who made sure i always had some device of my own for listening to music until i was into my 20s. which is really good of him when you consider that he didn’t really approve of all my music as i got older.

    my brother was a little more cutting edge. i am pretty sure that i learned to dance in his bedroom whilst “safety dance” was on the radio. and i wore out his bowie “tonight” cassette multiple times. and feared breaking his cure records. and, honestly, loved this one quiet riot poster he had…i clearly recall, when i was quite young, realising that his musical tastes were part of what caused me to feel free to listen to and explore any music i wanted. he might not love to hear it, but that time we were driving through the streets of anchorage in the early 80s and i saw a boy with a mohican and wanted that hair for myself…it was my older brother’s influence that inclined me to feel pretty okay about that.

    those are the early years. i’ll get to the pre-teen and older years later. though i think we’ll have to pass through a story about hearing loss first. but now you know why it was inevitable that i end up in love with music, and with rock music in particular. just in case you were curious…