Seem to have spent most of my time working on the Out of the Bedroom site over the last few days. That and stupid domestic problems.
Was at OOTB on Thursday compering part of the evening. Realised what a grumbly old man I’m becoming, as I get so irritated at singers who go up and self-dramatise; more and more I think why should anyone be more interested in your little dramas and fantasies just because you have a guitar in your hands and are singing in someone else’s accent? And, worst of all, do I do that? What’s the point at which it crosses the gulf between the little stage and the audience and actually becomes communication of some kind? For a while that was why I always surrounded myself with musicians and arrangements – to create something rather than just talking about myself or about some imaginary world in which I’m interesting. Then I got more confidence, not in myself but in the songs, that they were worth making the effort for, that people got something of value, albeit momentary, from them. But I still wonder.
Cohen’s advice to singers in a poem somewhere: ‘convey the information, step aside’.
Same goes for this.
Free to download - Stories My Killer Told Me: Five surreal story-songs from my Edinburgh Fringe show.
- I Am Not The One For You
- The Ever Open Door
- New Eyes
- A Forest Trail in Autumn
- The Portobello Slam
Just let me send you an occasional email!