I can’t believe how much I’m missing singing.
Humming around the house isn’t the same thing at all.
Singing, a song I’ve had a hand in writing (or even the odd spontaneous cover during rehearsals) from beginning to end, and performing it. Singing with musicians, singing in harmony, and creating something on the hoof, experimenting with a top line… and getting it wrong.
I miss the collaboration, the camaraderie, the teasing and the rude jokes. I miss making five different beverages while they tune up.
Yesterday Ian and I tried singing/playing over zoom but that doesn’t work as there is too much delay. So we talked about the song we are working on, then when we finished the call I re-drafted the lyrics, and he re-recorded the music to send to me, and then I’ll have a play in GarageBand and send it back.
But being in the same room with a musician, or better still, a bunch of musicians is where magic happens. You get the interaction, an unspoken communication, a recognition and a sparking off of an idea, jamming and riffing. I am slow when this happens. I can’t often participate at the same speed, so I watch and listen and try to learn. We have changed the structure of songs while this happens, something is discovered. It’s neutrons between synapses. I have rewritten lyrics on the strength of it. I have had to immediately write an extra section because someone has decided to play a fast version while someone else has gone to the loo. They fill the time by noodling on the guitar… so suddenly a three minute song becomes a 45 second song, and I’m expected to do something about it, because the fast version is better! And sometimes, someone will play a song in the style of someone else, and it opens up a whole new set of options.
The process of writing and arranging cannot be done over zoom. Since lockdown we have written four, maybe five songs. But they have now been “parked” until we can be in the same room. And then they will fly.
Last week I watched Lisa Hannigan play live online at Dublin’s National Gallery, with singer Sally Garnett and cellist Kevin Murphy. The joy was palpable as they played and sang together, about four metres apart. Kisses were blown, there was a catch in the voice as they laughed together. It was very moving and I shed a tear watching it. If you haven’t seen it, it’s worth seeking out.
One song here, complete with joyful giggling…
