Music

Judas at Easter

I was a little hesitant to post my thoughts on this because on blogs, the rules of conversation often seem much like those of dinner parties: don’t talk about money, politics or religion, and you’ll be fine. Considering the last time I talked about the latter I almost didn’t have a wedding, I’ve learned to tread carefully around the subject: but I’m also torn, because I’m such a strong advocate for being able to have a voice as long as your intention is never to hurt anyone.  Which mine has never been. I was talking with a good friend of mine lately about the phenomenon of cyber-bullying, and he framed it brilliantly: the risk of putting yourself out there is that someone may hear you. Should the fact that no one can please everyone stifle your freedom of expression? Quite the opposite – there will always be naysayers, but you can’t allow others to control your life when in your heart, you know your intent is fundamentally positive.

So. Religion, hmm? The reason I’m posting this today is that something has happened in the world of pop culture that has me fascinated. It’s Easter weekend this week, and Lady Gaga has released a single with the lyrics “I’m in love with Judas” chanted repeatedly over a thumping techno beat. The reaction from religious folks across the globe has obviously been negative, claiming she’s merely attention-seeking and trying to create controversy. In her music video for Alejandro, she dresses as a nun and swallows a rosary. In Judas, she refers to herself as a “holy fool,” a “fame hooker, a prostitute wench who vomits her mind”.  It’s not surprising speakers from religious groups are up in arms. “Because of her fame and the influence she has with young people, one would think that she’d learn to back off”, says Bill Donohue of the Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights, claiming her release of the single at the start of Holy Week is just “one more example of her ethics, choosing to stick it to the Catholics again.” But are people even bothering to read the lyrics? Are they simply conveniently forgetting that the majority of poems, works of literature, and most definitely songs use metaphors to illustrate a point?

To me, it’s not an attack on religion at all. Gaga has stated publicly that she is a believer (not that it should matter), and her last hit rocketed to the top of international charts with references to “capital H-i-m” throughout verses, along with the line “I’m beautiful in my way, because God makes no mistakes” sung proudly throughout choruses. I think Judas is simply using metaphor to make a record about falling in love with the wrong person – a subject people have been singing about for decades. “I wanna love you, but something’s pulling me away from you; Jesus is my virtue, and Judas is the demon I cling to…” How is this a deliberate attack on the church? I don’t see how it could be anything other than honest. It tells of knowing what the right course of action is but struggling to let go of something or someone you know is a bad influence. And haven’t we all been in that situation at one time or another?  Gaga’s creative director for the controversial video (out next week) has spoken up, saying that the Catholic Church shouldn’t be up in arms, since its message is anything but blasphemous. “I will tell you now, first off, I’m Christian, and my career is evidence of God in my life, and I think that most people are already thinking about Gaga and blasphemy and they’re premeditating the approach. I think they’ll be very shocked to find out how huge and really groundbreaking the message is, and how freeing the message is for all the right reasons.” Not forgetting that this all happened in the eighties already – I’m sure Madonna’s music video portraying a black Jesus and people dancing around burning crosses was the subject of just as much speculation then as Lady Gaga’s hit is today. And that didn’t stop her  becoming one of the most successful artists of all time.

I’m not the biggest fan of pop music, but I have to give respect to anyone who breaks down the walls of what’s considered typically beautiful, who uses their fame to stand up for the underdogs, who fights against prejudice, and who isn’t afraid to have their voice heard. People stifle their own thoughts all the time, in fame, in life, and even here across the blogosphere. They keep their opinions to themselves and go along with the masses for fear of how other people will react. Throughout history, if nobody had spoken up, half of us would still probably be deprived of the right to vote, an education, or a voice.  As a good friend reminded me recently, “you’ve got to take a stand for something, or you’ll fall for anything.”  People really need to stop finding fault so easily, and hand it to those that actually have the guts to speak up once in a while. I love the verse in Judas where she pretty much says “if you don’t like what I have to say, nobody’s making you listen”. Maybe because I’ve so often wondered the same thing about Internet trolls. 🙂

Ultimately, Lady Gaga has inspired a generation to embrace being different, and has stood up for all sorts of oppressed minorities, helping people who were once afraid to be who they were become proud and comfortable in their own skin.  I think this is a great pop song, making intelligent use of metaphor to sing about a subject that’s relatable to all. It’s just as good as Bad Romance, and better than Born This Wa-hey. Enough with making mountains out of molehills, people – can’t we just stop finding fault and enjoy a decent record? But why the album cover depicts her inexplicably as half-motorcycle (I suppose quarter-motorcycle would just be silly), I’m still guessing…

What do you think? Are people just seeing what they want to see, and making an artist look bad to serve their own agendas, or do you believe the hype and think Gaga’s gone too far? I’m really interested  in hearing your thoughts!

Surfing on a Wave of Nostalgia for an Age Yet to Come

One of the biggest things I’m thankful for in this day and age is technology. While babysitting for a friend a couple of weeks ago, we were chatting as his wife was getting ready about how strange it is that we are getting to the point where people our age are now contributing to a new generation – one that will have access to technology from birth.  I remember, as a child, sitting next to the radio for hours (nothing’s changed there, then), cassette tape at the ready and my finger eagerly hovering over the play/record button, waiting for the chance to capture a favourite song. I remember when my parents brought home our first computer – I must have been about twelve or thirteen, and having absolutely no idea how web pages or e-mail worked. I remember a girl in my maths class being the first to get a CD burner, and being one of many kids who’d submit her a list of twenty songs… along with a five-dollar bill. I remember the days of Napster, and even though it took two hours to get a song, thinking it was the most amazing thing in the world. Don’t even get me started on the first time I was able to watch Doctor Who the same day it aired in the UK!  Heck, I remember how it felt three weeks ago when I got my first smart phone, being absolutely blown away by the fact that I could make my own ringtones, check Facebook, read blogs, watch videos, get directions and, best of all, stream live British radio which I could listen to on the go. It’s bizarre to think that my future children won’t experience any of these firsts – that they’ll have access to these things right from the get-go.

The reason this intrigued me was because recently, I found a collection of a whole load of television programmes I used to watch as a child. I burned them to a DVD, and set about introducing my husband to SuperTed, Gladiators and The Crystal Maze (why don’t game shows today involve adventure and strategy games against futuristic robots or in medieval dungeons??). When I first saw that these were even available, my husband said he hadn’t seen me as excited about anything as when I saw Sooty again, and I have to admit, I was ecstatic. 🙂 Now, I know I’m not the only one to cling to things that I enjoyed in my youth – parents across the world still play the records that were popular when they were young, grandparents do the same, and the mere mention of a popular eighties cartoon to many of my friends is almost enough to make them salivate. So what causes this phenomenon? Are we simply programmed to archive the memories of youth under a rose-tinted light?

I recently read about a study that came to the conclusion that “many 25-40 year olds don’t plan for the future because they prefer to reminisce about past times.” It showed the effect of nostalgia on current pop culture too, and the result is unmistakable: many movies, fashions, and music of late all have a significantly retro feel. Remakes of Star Trek took over the silver screen (huzzah!), children’s stories became box office hits, American Apparel lined high streets across the country with eighties-inspired gear like leggings, headbands and spandex, and the sound of new wave was born all over again. Now, as excellent as that all is, the more interesting question is that of why: why do the memories of a generation’s youth evoke such positive feelings – and why do we remember everything that filled it as being full of the best life had to offer? I think it probably has something to do with the fact that nostalgia, quite simply, makes us feel better.

I’m no psychological expert here, but my guess is that when our free time was unencumbered by chores, work, or bills, when we didn’t know anything of the world of world politics or international poverty, we had a happier and more carefree outlook on life – and that carefree outlook on life attaches itself to the memories of things that filled our youth, and thus we remember things perhaps more positively than they actually were. (Pulp’s Common People excluded – that song will remain epic regardless of generation!) According to that logic, when we re-watch a favourite childhood television programme or movie today and realise how dreadful it was (the Stargate film, anyone?), the disillusion should shatter, no? Apparently not. Today, even after watching the primitive eighties animation on YouTube, I get filled with a case of the warm fuzzies. Exposure to the things I watched while living the happy-go-lucky life of a child seems to evoke a sense of deja-vu of the mind, and consequently after said 5-minute cartoon, my thoughts are transported to a time when life was simpler and impressions were fresher  – and I end up feeling more positive.

It seems somewhat of a paradox that in the current technological age where a new model of iPad is out quicker than the entire lifespan of the Dreamcast, the Internet and range of ever-expanding TV channels are used widely to re-live experiences from the past. We watch all the programmes, films, and music videos we listened to when we were young, and the entertainment industry is capitalising on it, creating new versions of old favourites. We listen to a song we haven’t heard in twenty years and remember all the words, yet we can’t remember the phone number of someone we called last week. And the evolution of social networking sites have allowed us to get back in touch with people we knew ten or fifteen years ago – often, in the prime of our youth.

Yes, reliving things from the past can evoke positive emotions today. But on the flipside – if we remember things in a rosier hue than was perhaps real; do we run into the danger of stifling the possibility of new things, or worse, airbrushing our own personal history? If the entertainment industry is recycling old styles, shows, and trends, are we discouraging the potential for new ideas?  If the new wave and punk sounds of the late ’70s/early ’80s are being recycled twenty-five years later, then that bodes terribly for the future of music – in middle age, every radio station may be flooded with another wave of rap, auto-tune, and Ke-dollar sign-ha. By continually reminiscing about the “good old days”, is there ever going to be anything new? As well, the very essence of who we are as people is based on our accumulation of memories – if those memories are in fact distorted, then how can we look back on our life and say it was really what we think it was? Maybe I’m going off on too much of a sci-fi tangent, but the question fascinates me. I think it’s incresibly interesting how generation after generation latches onto the same period of their life and holds it in such high regard, and I’m interested to know why. Nostalgia can be a great thing – and though the consequences of reminiscence can evoke short-term positivity, I think there’s also a danger of overdoing retrospect. We may end up mentally re-writing our own existence, or hanging onto a rose-tinted past so tightly it suffocates any possibility of original thinking in the future.

What do you think? Why does each generation seem to latch onto the same period as “the good old days”? Are we conditioned to Photoshop our past to make us feel better in the present? And what effect is nostalgia going to have on the future of the entertainment industry? Lots of questions… I suppose I’m feeling rather pensive today. Pardon my ramble, but if you can’t do it on a personal blog, where can you… And bonus points for anyone who knows where the title of today’s post is from 🙂

Helplessness Blues

I was raised up believing I was somehow unique
Like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes
Unique in each way you can see
And now, after some thinking, I’d say
I’d rather be a functioning cog in some great machinery
Serving something beyond me

But I don’t, I don’t know what that will be
I’ll get back to you someday soon, you will see

What’s my name, what’s my station?
Oh just tell me what I should do
I don’t need to be kind to the armies of night that would do such injustice to you
Or bow down and be grateful
And say, “sure, take all that you see,”
To the men who move only in dimly-lit halls and determine my future for me

And I don’t, I don’t know who to believe
I’ll get back to you someday soon, you will see

If I know only one thing
It’s that everything that I see
Of the world outside is so inconceivable
Often I barely can speak
Yeah I’m tongue tied and dizzy
And I can’t keep it to myself,
What good is it to sing helplessness blues?
Why should I wait for anyone else?

And I know, I know you will keep me on the shelf,
I’ll come back to you someday soon myself

If I had an orchard,, I’d work till I’m raw
If I had an orchard I’d work till I’m sore
And you would wait tables
And sing ’round the store
Gold hair in the sunlight
My light in the dawn
If I had an orchard I’d work till I’m sore

Someday I’ll be like the man on the screen…

The second album is going to be epic. 🙂

That’s Entertainment

At the end of every year, I like to make a visit to a little site called Blurb.com. If you’re not familiar with it, it’s basically a place where you can upload, print and publish professional-looking books. They can be a variety of styles, sizes, hardcover or soft – and at the end of each year, I like to print a copy of my year in blogging. I’ve only been seriously blogging since the latter part of 2009, so the books I have to date may not be the most substantial, but I think 2010 is going to be one I’m excited to add to the shelf. It’ll be a record of an absolute rollercoaster of a year, of new experiences, of firsts, of hopes, dreams, goals, challenges, reflections and observations – but I also want to make note not just of thoughts, but of the day-to-day. Things that filled my days, music I was passionate about, TV that rocked my world, books that changed my life, things that made me laugh so hard my face hurt, words that touched my heart, and moments I want to hold onto forever. Moments that made me feel lucky to be alive. That which inspires passion is important to chronicle. So, some of the things that blew me away this year include:

Creative genius

I’m not a big movie-goer. The thought of going to the cinema fills me more with panic than excitement, and sitting through two hours of having my chair kicked, being distracted by the glare from other people’s phones, and leaving with my wallet $25 lighter isn’t generally my idea of a good time. When it comes to visual entertainment, I’m more a stay-at-home kind of girl. This year has been full of incredibly imaginative movies and TV that have just made me feel proud to be a human being, including the epically intelligent Ashes to Ashes, a series following a gun shot, present-day police officer waking up in the mid-eighties, trying to figure out if she’s gone mad, dead or alive, in a coma, or literally back in time, the finale to which was probably the most intelligent piece of screenwriting I’ve ever witnessed and kept me mesmerised, and firmly on the edge of my seat. Movie-wise, it was the year of special effects and 3D glasses, and the detail in films like Toy Story 3 and Legend of the Guardians was simply breathtaking.

Literary brilliance

Almost a year ago, I made New Year’s Resolutions, and one of them was to get back into reading. I seem to have gone from reading books every day to reading blogs every day, and though I still make time for brain food (I have an entire shelf dedicated to back issues of Psychology Today and Discover magazine), I want to get back into the habit of Real Books. At the beginning of the year, I read Audrey Niffenegger’s follow-up to The Time Traveller’s Wife, Her Fearful Symmetry, and though wildly different, I loved every part of it. Ghost stories amongst a backdrop of my favourite city, Doctor Who references, two parts imagination, one part wonderfully creepy, this novel had me thoroughly captivated from the start. Nick Hornby’s Juliet, Naked was an enjoyable, lighter read following dysfunctional relationships and a lifelong quest fuelled by musical passion, I finally got on the Lovely Bones bandwagon, Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth completely changed my life, and currently, I’m savouring the final Harry Potter book so I can finally see it on the big screen!

Spine-tinglingly talented musicians

I loved Mumford and Sons the moment I first heard them, and seeing them perform an intimate venue halfway across the country, playing songs that stirred my soul, while proclaiming how humbled and honoured they were to have sold out in a country they hadn’t released any music to yet. Knowing that every person in that space had discovered this incredible music through word of mouth, and became so passionate about it they queued out in the cold and bought so many tickets they had to move venues was just refreshing, and the atmosphere of being a part of something so amazing was just electric.

2010 was also the year of the ‘nu-folk’ movement in the UK, with bands like this taking centre stage, coupled with banjos, mandolins and accordions. Suddenly, countryfolk were as popular as the Black Eyed Peas, and the masses were exposed to real musicianship and literary lyricism. A girl of 20 by the name of Laura Marling exploded onto the world stage with the album I Speak Because I Can – a stunning collection of heart-wrenching, poetic songs tales that delve into haunting stories filled with beautiful words and melody; sounds ranging from the frenzied, supernatural, old-world gypsy-esque “Devil’s Spoke” (with the fabulously determined “all of this can be broken, take your devil by his spoke and spin him to the ground“) to the beautiful “Rambling Man” (“beaten, battered and cold, my children will live just to grow old, but if I sit here and weep, I’ll be blown over by the slightest of breeze”) reminiscent of Joni Mitchell. The epic “Hope in the Air” is pure, chilling, sumptuous storytelling at its absolute finest, and continues to give me goosebumps with every listen (“our hearts are small and ever thinning, there is no hope ever of winning, so why fear death? Be scared of living“). Not all is high drama – if you’re looking for something to play your sweetheart one cold winter’s night, try “Rest in the Bed“, and allow beautiful words to express a sentiment of love (“there lies a man of my heart, a fine and complete work of art, here, I his woman, his home, and his heart, and proud to be playing that part“).  If you’re hooked by haunting melodies, exquisite lyrics and truly intelligent musicianship, don’t hesitate another second before adding this to your collection.

Entertainment this year was pretty fantastic, I must say, and 2010 was filled with great, clever imagination from all sides. Here’s hoping next year’s just as stimulating, inspiring, and impressive – full of things that make you proud to be a member the human race.

What were some highlights of the entertainment world for you in 2010?



Indie Kids Get Early Christmas Presents… again

About this time last year, I wrapped up a selection of indie Christmas tunes for all you lovely people (somehow the link’s still active!), and since music is very dear to my heart, I thought I’d grab a load of new ones and share another festive package to put on in the background while you’re decking the halls and putting up the tree. 🙂 This one starts off with the new Coldplay Christmas record, Christmas Lights, which is just lovely (and another total anthem), with a few fun alternative holiday records thrown in – and it all fits on a standard blank CD. Just click the image to download. Enjoy! 🙂

1.  Coldplay – Christmas Lights
2. The Wombats – Is This Christmas?
3. Slow Club – Christmas TV
4. Manic Street Preachers -Ghost of Christmas
5. Travis – Colder
6. No Use for a Name – Fairytale of New York
7. Kill It Kid – Just Like Christmas
8. Goldfrapp – Winter Wonderland
9. Smashing Pumpkins – Christmastime
10. The Raveonettes – The Christmas Song
11. Tom Jones and Catatonia – Baby, It’s Cold Outside
12. Gustavo Santaolalla – De Ushuaia A La Quiaca
13. The Darkness – Christmas Time (Don’t Let The Bells Ring)
14. A Change of Pace – Christmas on the Coast
15. Hunks and Friends – The Magic of Christmas
16. Fleet Foxes – White Winter Hymnal
17. Esterlyn – Christmas Time
18. Lindstrom – Little Drummer Boy
19. Rufus Wainwright – Spotlight on Christmas
20. The Fire Apes – Last Christmas
21. Joshua Radin – Winter
22. The Hooves – A Hooves Christmas
23. Danny Elfman – Christmas Eve Montage

NB: If you enjoy the tunes, please support the artists by purchasing their music 🙂

BIG NEWS: Someone has stolen the real Emily. Apparently, I’m in GLEE…

Firstly, I need to extend an enormous thank you to the absolute army of support you all offered over the insanity that stemmed from my last post. Thank you for standing up for me, sticking by me, and offering proverbial shoulders to cry on – words cannot express my gratitude for the friendship and support you showered upon me following the downright vicious behaviour of some anonymous coward who had nothing better to do than try and destroy my wedding, and reputation. Seriously, it amazes me how people will not simply cross the line of acceptable behaviour, but run in leaps and bounds over it simply because they can be anonymous. I think there’s actually an equation for this sort of thing. It baffles me, but also says volumes about their life and character. The good news is that the attempt failed miserably, and everything is 100% okay (although credit should be given for exceptional cowardice, supreme saboteurial spirit, and general trollishness). Your kind words and support throughout the whole debacle were appreciated enormously, the wedding is most definitely still on, and I think we’re actually in a better, stronger place now than we were even a week ago.

Now, it’s a new week, and I’d like nothing more than to slam the door shut on the last one, and enter this one with brighter spirits – and some fun news. Last week, I did something crazy. I was checking something or other on Facebook, when I was accosted by a little sidebar advertisement that stole my attention, a beat of my heart, and soon enough, $300. I know Facebook advertising is targeted in all sorts of clever ways to your interests, your habits, topics you mention (although why I keep getting weight loss ads I’ll never know), but this little ad seemed to have read my blog five months ago when I declared I wanted to learn to sing, dance and perform – and made me sign up for Glee club.

We have a handful of theatres in the city, and Prairie Theatre Exchange always offers great shows. It’s a fabulous venue, home to countless wonderful performances I’ve seen over the years, and also offers acting classes to teens and adults. Now, this is me we’re talking about here – the girl who runs kicking and screaming out the nearest window at the mere mention of public speaking, let alone performing. But over the last few months, I’ve been a little more accomodating to my inner desire of being able to perform.  Taken a couple of singing classes. Shamelessly attempted to learn the Bad Romance choreography off  YouTube in my living room. Read my writing out loud in a public bookshop.  But this is a whole new level. I had just signed up for the next fifteen weeks for real musical theatre classes. I was going to be thrust into a group of adults, many of whom have musical training and acting experience, where I would be learning to sing showtunes and taught actual choreography. Oh, the the cherry on top? There’ll be a public performance at the end of the course. In the actual theatre. Cabaret-style. For EVERYONE to see.

This isn’t me. This is my inner dreamer, who seems to have jumped on board and stolen the reigns while the inner critic was on coffee break, and signed me up for something I’ve always wanted but been too afraid of. This isn’t just public speaking. This is high risk of total embarrassment territory. But this is also exactly what I do when I have the house to myself for a couple of hours on a Friday night. I crank up the music. I belt it out regardless of whether or not I can hit the notes. I dance down my stairs as if I were making a big entrance on a Broadway stage and I imagine it going brilliantly. And in my dreams, it does. Not in real life!!

In the five months or so that I’ve been tackling this list, I’ve been lucky enough to have received a lot of encouragement. I’ve also been recipient of a certain amount of questioning. Why are you doing this? If you’re not naturally good at something, why would you put yourself through the discomfort of doing things that scare you?  Bravery will only get you so far, but there are more important things in life. Why don’t you stick to what you’re good at?

To which my (internal) response has always been: Why the bloody hell not? I’m at a point in my life where I’m no longer embarrassed to admit that I spent most of my adult life ruled by fear. It’s not something I’m proud of, but it’s no longer something I’ll try to hide. I had an interesting talk with someone after X Factor last week after they saved one contestant who’d been in the bottom two almost half a dozen times. “But she’s a fame whore!” she said, “they should have got rid of her!” I told her firstly not to believe everything you read in the papers. So what if she slept with a couple of famous people to try and get famous? That’s in the past – now she’s at the point where she’s making an honest, dedicated effort every single week, facing the nation that’s slapping stories about her being a “whore” all over the place, and chasing after her dream. Just because she may have made mistakes in the past doesn’t mean that’s who she is today. What if I went on X Factor, I asked her, and one of my ex-boyfriends went to the press and said I was some crazy psycho who needs psychological help. What if that was the image the nation had of me? Would it make it true today? No. Everyone makes mistakes. It’s choosing not to keep making them that makes us better. I think the best we can be is when we decide to let go of the past and focus on creating the best possible present as the best possible person we can be in this very moment. Just make a choice to live the right life, and start doing it.

That’s what this year has been all about for me. That’s what this list is all about. Hopefully in seven months time I will be able to look back, and maybe I won’t have achieved everything on it. But I want to be able to say I tried. To be able to say I made the choice, when it came down to fight or flight, to not choose fear. To be able to have courage and guts, and not take myself so seriously, not spend so much time trying to perfect things that I miss out on growth and adventure. So on Saturday, I had my first musical theatre class. What I loved most of all was that in every song I ever thought was too high for me to sing, there was a part for me. We got to choose which range we felt most comfortable in, and even if it wasn’t the direct melody, it was still just as valuable and helped in creating something beautiful when everyone sang together. I even learned a DANCE!! Every Saturday from now until March (save perhaps Christmas, and one in early December) I will be in musical theatre. And even if I fall flat on my face, it’ll be a challenge. It’ll be fun. It’ll be the scariest thing I could imagine and it’ll push me to my absolute limit. And I think, for right now anyway, that’s exactly what life should be made of. 🙂

Kiss me once or twice, maybe I could die happy as a bird

So I know music posts aren’t everyone’s cup of tea, but every once in a while, there’s a track that comes along, stops you in your tracks, and burrows its way into your ears, then your heart, then every fibre of your skin, making every hair stand up straight on the end of a thoroughly haunted and mesmerised goosebump.  This is raw, and beautiful, and I cannot wait to get my hands on this when it comes out. Enjoy. 🙂

There I was thinking it was just a good idea, and it went and got its own whole day

It has come to my attention that today is National Face Your Fears Day! And I couldn’t think of a better reason to HAVE a day dedicated to it. This whole year has been one big Face-Your-Fears-Fest for me, and I love being able to look at my list and always be able to say I’m pushing myself to be more. Even if it is scary. Because the victory over fear is always so much more meaningful than the handful of panic attacks along the way. I don’t think anyone ever wants to look back and regret not trying. To admit that they allowed fear to control their life. I certainly don’t. So today, I thought it a good day to write about one of the tougher items on that list. Remember a couple of weeks ago, where I decided I wanted to stop being so terrified of singing in front of people, signed up for vocal coaching, psyched myself out so much I made myself sick and cancelled the appointment? Yeah. Fun times. Well, as I write this, I’m pretty excited – because this past week I tried again – and actually made it out the front door! 🙂

I’d emailed the coach apologising profusely for being such a scaredy-cat, tried to feebly explain how afraid I was of this, how desperately I wanted to sing and how sorry I was, promising to pay double next time – I felt SO BAD about inconveniencing her, as well as letting myself down. But she e-mailed me back an incredibly thoughtful, kind, understanding message which really reassured me that I wasn’t the only one, and that she wanted to make it as safe of an environment as possible.

Singing can make you feel exposed and vulnerable and a one-on-one setting can be pretty intense. But perfection is never even remotely the goal. Believe me. I won’t be perfect. I’ll demonstrate things and I’ll make mistakes, sound bad, make mistakes in the piano parts to your songs, and it’ll all be okay. It’s always my aim to make our little environment a safe-feeling place and for it to feel okay to screw up. And if we’re ever working and you’re feeling overwhelmed, please know in advance that it’s okay to say so and we can take a break or call it quits for the night, or whatever needs to happen, okay? 🙂 I think that every singer I know has cried in a lesson or a coaching at some point – or many points! I know I have! It’s just the way of it.

So I rescheduled – and this time, showed up.  Let’s backtrack for a second. When I’m home alone, the first thing I do is close all the windows, crank up the stereo and sing my absolute heart out. But I also keep a close eye on the view outside the window, in case I see a neighbour close by, or Sweet arriving home, so I can be sure to turn everything down, and most importantly not be caught in song. I’ve always wished desperately to have a good voice and a good range, but I’m pretty sure I don’t. I can’t hit the high notes, I can’t do those diva-esque runs, I can’t belt it out or do any sort of imaginative take on a song, and I definitely can’t read music. It’s funny, last week I was talking about my issue with the “niche philosophy” – should you stick to what you’re good at, and focus on being great at it, or do you branch out into things you’re not, riding on the hope that one day you will? I’ve always identified more with the latter, but the former makes a lot of sense. But, as a good friend once told me, if you feel you need to be doing something, even if you’re not good at it right now, it’s because you’re meant to be.  So I’m going to keep going.

 

 

Last week, I learned the difference between “strong voice” (which I’d always thought was the sole indicator of your range) and the “natural voice”, and that it’s okay to switch into that falsetto sound when the notes get high. Awe-inspiring musical theatre-type singing, where they hit the notes with the “strong voice”, was a style created by theatre people, not singers, and classically, it’s about strengthening that upper range so you can project over crowds and choirs and instruments and still be heard.  I felt a little silly waving my arms around while I was singing, but I learned that different parts of the body work best when they’re in harmony with each other, so if I want to sing those high notes loudly, let my arms move in big circles and do with them what I want to do with my voice. I was shocked to hear I was actually a soprano – hitting only 2 notes lower than my coach and going down even lower than she did, but it doesn’t mean I did it well… I didn’t believe her when the words weren’t “you’re going to need some work.”I’ve never felt I could sing, simply because I’ve never allowed myself to practice.  Strengthen the muscles and therefore my voice. It all makes complete sense to me now, and I can’t wait until I really am able to carry a tune! I left with homework – a 17th century Italian song, scribed on five sheets of music in two languages I can’t understand. I don’t know how to read music or speak Italian, and I found myself getting lost as I was trying to follow along, but I was reassured that was okay. We’d learn together. Pronunciation doesn’t matter at this point, and with practice, reading music will become easier.  I’m not going to lie – some of these notes are pretty intimidating. But I’m going to try anyway. Tomorrow night, I’m back for lesson 2. And this time around, my heart’s beating with the excitement of learning instead of nerves.

What fear of yours are you allowing to hold you back?

Out on the wily, windy moors

Over the last few days, I was incredibly fortunate to experience an absolute tonne of amazing, spine-tingling, soul-stirring music. It started on Thursday night when, brilliantly, the mighty Arcade Fire came into town! I’d been a bit gutted in the summer when I saw they were playing Canadian spots while I was in the UK, and British spots after I was back in Canada, but a few weeks ago I saw they’d added a stop in Winnipeg. The day tickets went on sale, I put my “do not disturb” sign on my office door, waited for the clock to strike ten, Ctrl+V’d my Visa number into the box… and absolutely rejoiced when we got possibly the best seats in the house! (These turned out to be a bit of a nightmare when we got there and found we were seated behind a selfish cow of a girl who decided she was going to stand up, smoke a joint, and dance by herself for the first three songs, completely blocking everybody’s view, and refused to sit down “because they were her favourite band”. Call me an old lady, but isn’t that why they offer tickets for the floor?)  It ended up being all good, as within about 20 minutes the entire stadium were up on their feet, watching the nine-piece ensemble rock two drum sets, fierce violins, xylophones, accordions and mandolins, backed by a giant screen of images reminiscent of the Smashing Pumpkins circa Tonight, Tonight. It was indie, it was beautiful, it was clever, and it was epic. And seeing the gorgeous, 6’4″, half-head-shaved mastermind frontman Win Butler for two hours didn’t hurt either. 🙂

On Friday night, Sweet and I teamed up with a couple of good friends, got all dressed up and headed for opening night at the Symphony. Our friend is a music teacher and a composer, and it was awesome to see SUCH enthusiasm for the intricacies of the music – it was kind of like watching a kid in a very posh candy shop 🙂  The first half was a new composer, whose piece was kind of a bluesy, southern-style symphony complete with duelling violins, which was thoroughly entertaining. Then came Mahler 1, which, through highs, lows, haunting funeral marches and explosions of sound was nothing short of breathtaking. Highlight: the opening of the first movement sounding just like the Star Trek: TNG theme and whispering “Space: The Final Frontier” to ourselves in the seats 🙂  It was amazing to be able to see such incredible talent (and appreciation for it) right in the heart of the city – I’m hoping over the winter we can all go more often.

We had a few errands to run over the weekend too, which resulted in a lot of time in the car. Now, the one thing that makes me want to get that driving licence isn’t the thought of no longer having to wait 40 minutes in the dead of winter in a blizzard for a bus to not show up – it’s the thought of being enclosed in my own little bubble where I could blast whatever music I wanted and sing to my heart’s content with nobody to worry about impressing. Sweet’s really great about letting me take my music in the car, and this weekend I decided on a bit of a blast from the past: Kate Bush. Not my past, obviously – for those unfamiliar with Kate Bush, she was signed up by EMI at the age of sixteen, and topped the charts in 1978 for a month straight with her debut, the stunning Wuthering Heights. She was the first woman ever to have a number one single with a self-written song, and the first female artist EVER to enter the album chart at number one. She even knocked Madonna off the top spot in the eighties. She only ever toured once, in 1979, but has won Grammy awards, BRIT awards, and an Ivor Novello Award for Outstanding Contribution to Music. She is an absolute LEGEND – lyrically amazing, musically genius, dramatic, controversial, and surreal – and her eerie, eclectic voice sends chills down your spine. Sweet let me crank up a Greatest Hits while driving around this weekend, and after hitting repeat on this one about seven times, declared this has to be one of “the best songs ever written”. Late seventies art rock power ballad, literary intellect, ghost stories and haunting vocals – what’s not to love? Crank this one up and dance around in your nightie – Kate didn’t need a meat dress to get the world’s attention. 🙂

Vocal Adrenaline

For as long as I remember, I’ve had a problem with my voice. I remember the day it began vividly – it was one of my first classes in Canada. American History. Our teacher was a skinny little man, probably in his late fifties. His skin was a phoney shade of copper brown, his nose bespectacled, and his head adorned by a mop of floppy, greasy hair through which he insisted on running his fingers at every opportunity. His wardrobe must have consisted of an entire closet of tight-fitting grey suits, and a few dozen pairs of squeaky black loafers. One eyebrow was continually raised, and it seemed a smug sort of Sean Penn-esque smirk had visited his face one day, and liked it so much it decided to set up camp. Needless to say, I wasn’t a fan.

One of his favourite things to do was to assign presentations. Get the students to stand up there all class so he didn’t really have to do anything. My first time up was during my first term in a north American high school, and I was nervous. Nervous they’d make fun of my accent, or that I’d be too quiet for them to hear. I got up there, glued my eyes to the page my hands were struggling to keep still, and started to read. I’d barely got to my second sentence before Mr. Milan stopped me, and started laughing. “Slow it down, and speak up! Nobody can understand a word you’re saying!”  My face flushed. Everything I’d worried would happen had happened, and in front of the thirty other students, too. I took a breath, and continued shakily. Every presentation from that point on was prefaced by Mr. Milan’s jibes, reminding me of my initial humiliation. That moment had forever traumatised my feelings toward public speaking.

“I wonder sometimes how any of us survive when we are all so fragile as children that makes it impossible to reach adulthood unscathed. I find myself wondering if these things don’t happen to force us to grow, but so often we don’t know how to heal and remain stuck.”

Jenny, local blogger and kindred spirit, said it so well in one of her recent posts. Sometimes, I don’t think people realise the lasting impact their words can have – and the damage it can potentially do in shaping someone’s future.

I was telling a good friend of mine this story last weekend, after we’d finished recording a chapter in his audio drama (!). At the beginning of summer, he’d asked me if I’d be interested in a role in a radio play he’d written. I was shocked – I had zero acting experience, and my voiceover work was pretty limited – stuff that required nothing in the way of character or emotion. Still, he convinced me to give it a shot. A couple of weeks ago, we did our first take. And for some reason, he was thrilled with my performance. Outside, I’d been reading the lines, but all the while the inner monologue had been on loop, telling me I wasn’t believable… my accent was too different… why the heck would he want someone with no acting experience anyway… but somehow, he thought I was good.  I told him about the incident in high school,  why I was so afraid of using my voice, and how I didn’t understand how all these opportunities to do so kept popping up lately.

Narrating the company video at work. Recording the voiceover on our radio ad.  Being given a job where speaking in front people is now my primary function. Being asked to host radio shows three times in the last two months. Why did they want my voice? My friend asked me what the logical conclusion would be. If I was no good, why did people want me? “Well… maybe it’s not that bad?” I said. “People don’t want ‘not bad’,” he laughed. “People want excellent.”  I didn’t know what to say. Compliments are so hard to take when you’ve believed the opposite thing for the longest time. But I was grateful for the encouragement… and slightly intrigued.

See, I’ve wanted to use my voice in another way for a while now. Every time I hear a good song, watch X Factor or crank up the Glee soundtrack, I have a near irrepressible urge to burst into song – but my thoughts limit me to doing so solely when there’s nobody home, and all the windows are closed. I never used to have this problem – there was a time I thrived on performing – taking stage school, putting on shows for the neighbours, and once upon a time, fronting a punk rock band. I love to sing. If I had three wishes, I’m pretty sure one of them would be to have a voice like Lea Michele. I had this conversation with an old friend this summer while I was in England, who, since I’ve moved away, has become an accomplished actor and musical performer. He had an interesting thought on the subject: “If you have the urge to do something, and you feel like you have to break into song, it means that’s what you should be doing.” He went on to convince me that though some people may naturally be better singers than others, it doesn’t mean anybody can’t become a great singer with the right training.  “It’s just muscles,” after all – and, like couch potatoes can become athletes with enough hard work, training, and dedication, non-singers can gain strong musical voices the same way.

Filled with hope, I decided to do something about it. I hired a vocal coach. I was supposed to have my first lesson last Thursday, but – and I hate to admit it – I got hit by what happens when you rush into things before you’re ready. I ran the thought of singing in front of someone else over and over in my head until I was so nervous I was nauseous, and ended up making myself sick. I could’ve kicked myself – I’m not a patient person, and when I want something, I want it right away. Taking the long road is hard in the best of times, but when something ridiculous like nerves is your barricade, it’s the most frustrating thing in the world.

I still want to take that lesson. Study, train, and practice. Sing in the house regardless of if the windows are open or closed. Learn to let go and dive into something I love… with the hope that one day, I’ll have the guts to perform. Maybe it’ll be at the work Christmas talent show. Maybe it’ll be around a campfire. Maybe I’ll even do karaoke – I only have another nine months after all, and it’s so frustrating that something I want to do so badly is going to be one of the harder ones to cross off the list. The coach was understanding, and sent me some extremely kind words of encouragement and reassurance. I’m going to give it another shot next week. I just have to pluck up the courage, and keep some more of Jenny’s words of wisdom in the back of my mind:

“If I’m lucky enough to be able to take lessons, I am not going to waste it by being afraid! I finally get that it is not only about giving myself permission to make mistakes. It is also about believing that I am worthy, and have the right to shine.”

The X-Effect

This week on Twitter, I read something about well-done sidebars on blogs being a big part of accessibility, and subsequently, probably, more readers. I took a look at mine, and, well, I have no idea whether or not it’s well done. It does its job, but I’ve never been one of those people who play by the Rules of Successful Blogging anyway – I don’t have a niche (hello, Star Trek rants one day, theatre festivals the next!), I don’t have ads, and I don’t worry too much if I don’t post three times a week… it’s my little corner of the Internet and I’ll write about kittens and robots if I want to! *Stomps* 🙂 I did notice one interesting thing in my sidebar, however – my Tag Cloud. Moreso that the biggest (and subsequently ‘most talked about’) topic is MUSIC.

I’m having difficulting believing this. If this were a tag cloud of my life, then perhaps I’d be more inclined to see the truth in its prominence, but on my blog? I don’t know. I tried a weekly music feature earlier in the year where I tried to share songs and music videos that were beautifully written, incredibly compelling, visually stunning, or just plain rocking my world, and every time? Turned out to be Tumbleweed City. Maybe it comes from the fact that I don’t listen to a lot of mainstream stuff  – stuff that might be more easily relatable across the blogosphere? Music is something I’m passionate about, and I’ll happily spend three hours on a Friday night scouring the Internet, reading reviews, and digging out hidden gems from across the globe, memorising the words, highlighting the brilliant ones and adding them to a mental collection of lyrical masterpieces to indulge in at full volume when nobody’s home. I’m passionate about music in the same way some people are passionate about cooking, or fashion, or exercise – but with those things, though they may not be big parts of my life, I can always appreciate someone’s enthusiasm for something they love wholeheartedly. Posting about music, however, has been discouraging – so it’s something I tend to stick to enjoying outside of the blog. Which is why it’s so surprising it makes up my biggest tag on the cloud.

But I digress. Today, I had to write about something music-related, because something music-related began another reign of supremity across the planet this weekend. On Saturday, 12 million people tuned in live to watch the first episode of the new season of The X Factor (stay with me!) -the show that brought the world Leona Lewis, divided the globe last Christmas with the war on Simon Cowell taking an old Rage Against the Machine track to the top in one of chart history’s most controversial moments, and has kept me, proud anti-mainstream indie kid that I am, firmly glued to my seat for the past six years.

I know I should be on the side of everyone who’s blaming things like X Factor and Glee for “ruining pop music”. I despise most modern pop music – pre-pubescent boys being voted sexiest “men” of 2010 (…), girls singing lines that are just plain embarrassing (really; don’t even get me started on Katy Perry), and songs about drunken promiscuity (as great as they are for nerdy video parodies) – am I the only one who’s feeling old here? But there’s been a tidal wave of backlash approaching for the last little while – and it seems to have come crashing down along with the commencement of the new series of X Factor. I doubt the return of Glee next month will escape unscathed: people en masse are revolting against the state of the charts, blaming shows like this for stealing the spotlight (and the public’s pocketbook) away from “real artists”, and actively destroying the music industry. But – as much as I should – I’m not sure where I stand.

In the UK, the X Factor has had significant effect on mass music purchasing, having had a total of 42 singles released by former contestants, sixteen of which have been number one hits. Worldwide, the music industry has undoubtedly been hit by the Glee effect: over seven million copies of cast single releases have been purchased digitally, and last year alone, the Glee cast had twenty-five singles chart on the Billboard Top 100 – the most by any artist since The Beatles almost half a decade ago. Manufactured television definitely has a stranglehold, but is that such a bad thing?

I adore hardworking, raw, real talent. I was perhaps more thrilled than the band themselves when Mumford and Sons became well-known globally, after having heard a demo single years ago and being unable to find a thing on them. I remember seeing them live and loving the genuine sense of gratitude bursting from the lead singer, who was shocked they’d sold out a venue before their album had even been released stateside. I love it when the little guys make it to the top. But I also love watching the little guys start on X Factor. Seeing them go from a small town, or a mundane nine to five job, and being given the platform to share an incredible talent with the world is fantastic. I watched last year as the boy who got bullied won the heart of a nation with an amazing natural voice. So they may have thousands in production, and pre-written songs built into their contracts when they win. It still showcases raw talent from the beginning, and gives them the opportunity to shine.

Like this eighteen-year old girl last Saturday night, doing something so original and different with perhaps one of my most loathed songs in the world that it sent shivers down my spine.

I think The X Factor can be a great platform for ordinary people to share amazing gifts with the rest of the world. It may have more money and more influence than the little guys, but then aren’t those little guys’ victories that much better when they beat the odds? How often in life are we given platforms upon which to share our gifts? I think the answer is a lot more often than you’d probably think. They may not be in front of thousands of people, on television, or across from a judging panel of celebrities, but platforms of opportunity come our way all the time. They may be in the form of a classroom, a customer service desk, or a white blank page, but I think we’re all given opportunities to shine. It’s whether or not we choose to take the risk and put it all out there that determines our success. I have a lot of respect for the people that have the guts to get up there and audition in front of millions, knowing full well how quick the masses can be to judge. But every once in a while, the decision to get out there and do it anyway can create something magical.

Maybe things like Glee and X Factor are destroying the music industry. Maybe they’re just giving regular artists more incentive to work harder. Whatever side you end up taking, you can’t argue with the power they have to cause controversy – as well as to unite (and divide) millions across the nation. And the fact that they make brilliantly compelling TV – even if only, perhaps, for all the wrong reasons. 🙂

Get Your Freak On Friday (quite possibly the best music video EVER)

For today’s Get Your Freak On Friday, I’m bringing you a song from back in 2006 which continues to rock very hard 4 years later. It’s by a brilliant band from the UK called Kasabian, who’ve released all sorts “family-friendly” hits such as ‘Vlad the Impaler’, ‘Club Foot’, ‘(I’m on) Fire’, and most recently the album West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum.  Their videos are always stunning, and Shoot The Runner is one of the best music videos I’ve ever seen. Anyone even remotely interested in graphics or animation will just love it.

If you want to play along with GYFOF:

1. Grab the button
2. Paste the button. Somewhere on your blog or even just in your post.
3. Write about a memorable song. Any one you like.
4. Post the link to your post on Tristan’s post’s Mr. Linky.

Enjoy a feast for the eyes and ears… even if you don’t have sound, it’s worth watching for the sheer artistic brilliance. Happy weekend!

Get Your Freak On Friday

I decided to stick with this (somewhat) ongoing feature – if I’m going to write about something regularly, it may as well be about something I absolutely love. Even if it does mean tumbleweeds!! I hope some of you like the tunes. 🙂

If you haven’t read before, Get Your Freak On Friday is about music, about “what makes you tap your toes, bob your head, wiggle your fingers, cry like an infant, dance like an orangutan, or want to throw things. You list a song you love and what you do because of it.”

Here’s how it works:
1. Paste the button into your post, linking back to Tristan.
2. Write about aforementioned song. Any one you like.
3. Post the link to your post on Tristan’s post’s Mr. Linky.

This week I bring you a track that’s infectiously catchy, overtly quirky, and impossible to sing along to. It’s from an American bloke called Darwin Deez, who just so happens to be going on tour with two of my other current favourites – last GYFOF’s Hurts (which I’m so glad you guys loved!) and the genre-defying Everything Everything. It’s a first-listen favourite, refreshingly different, and the video’s packed full of random hilarity, mad science and singer who rocks the Napoleon Dynamite look a little too well.  Crank this one up and try not to break into dance. Or smiles. Or both. 🙂  Happy weekend! And to my fellow Brits – Happy St. George’s Day!!

80s Time Traps, McCartney & Gaga, and Weapon-Wielding Monarchs: April = AWESOME

Sweet and I aren’t big TV watchers. For the longest time, we didn’t even have cable (only signing up for the “3 months free” promotions, and promptly cancelling at the end of each trial, resulting in a strangely large collection of remote controls, and much to the chagrin of the installation guy). We watch our favourites online, mostly, or on DVD box set – sometimes there’s nothing better on a dreary Saturday than curling up with back to back episodes of Star Trek and a cup of tea! But this month, we had no choice but to succumb. Three of the best programmes on TV are all starting new seasons, and I’m BEYOND excited.

#1: Doctor Who

It’s no secret I’m a huge Whovian and, after a 2-year hiatus and much anticipation for the latest incarnation of the Doctor, it FINALLY returned to our screens last week.  For those of you who’ve never seen it, Doctor Who started back in the 1960s in black and white, and rather low budget, and has continued to this day, remaining the longest running science fiction show in the WORLD. It follows the story of the Doctor, the last of his race, travelling through space and time with various companions, battling evil and saving the Earth. He has the ability to regenerate into a new body near death – and the current series marks the eleventh actor to play the role. I hope it goes on forever!! Generations have grown up “hiding behind the sofa“, and this series’ new writer definitely has a taste for the darker stories – last season had episodes which literally made me afraid to turn off the lights, and this week showed one of the most chilling, and best episodes I’ve ever seen. Humanity fleeing to space after a major catastrophe on the Starship UK, led by a gun-wielding, cape-donning Queen Elizabeth X, going undercover to find out what her government is up to while voters are given the option to “protest” or “forget” – and the Doctor left with a choice between killing the last of a race or saving humanity – this episode was to DIE for.  And next week? Winston Churchill building an army of “English Daleks” to win the war? COUNT ME IN.

#2: Ashes to Ashes

This may VERY well be the new highlight of my week. It’s in its final season and was a spinoff of the amazing Life on Mars (the UK version – please, America, never try and remake anything again…), which, if you didn’t catch, was a sci-fi police drama (I know, brilliant), telling the story of a present-day police officer who is hit by a car, and wakes from consciousness in 1973.  We don’t know if he’s gone back in time, in a coma in the present, or if anything is real – the story is full of wonderfully creepy “signs” he might be in a coma, like hearing present-day voices on the radio, or ’70s television characters stepping out of the TV into his apartment and talking to him about his “real” life…

Ashes to Ashes followed the incredible finale, telling the story of a female police officer (played by Keeley Hawes, of MI-5 and Death at a Funeral fame) who is shot, and inexplicably regains consciousness in 1981.  When she wakes up, she is shocked to meet the head of the same police department she’s read about (in researching what happened in Life on Mars).  Throughout the series, we don’t know whether she is dead or alive in the present day. Gene Hunt, the DCI, is one of the most brilliantly written characters I’ve ever seen. He’s hilariously politically incorrect (“This case is going as fast as a bunch of spastics in a magnet factory“), unnecessarily brutal, and has lines that’ll have you splitting your sides one minute (“I”m not a religious man, Mr Warren – but isn’t there something in the Bible that says, thou shalt not suck off rent boys?”), and full of hope and absolute fear the next. The season 2 finale remains hands-down the best finale of any TV show I have ever seen in my life, and this series is proving to be simultaneously full of wit and spine-tingling chills, leaving me HANGING off the edge of my seat with a blanket half over my eyes.

#3: Glee

I’ll admit I was a bit of a new kid on the Glee block, but since starting the season in February (and subsequently buying both soundtracks, converting officemates on lunch breaks, and watching the whole thing through about three times since), I’m officially hooked. Another hilariously politically incorrect antagonist (“I empower my cheerleaders to be champions. Do they go to college? I don’t know. I don’t care. Should they learn Spanish? Sure, if they wanna become dishwashers and gardeners”), an ongoing theme of  losers and nerds coming out on top, half the cast of Heroes, and amazing numbers – this one has it all.

Do watch the videos! What’s keeping you glued to your seats these days??

Get Your Freak On Friday

So I know a couple of weeks ago I mentioned I was going to be doing this regular feature… did anyone SEE the crazy bizarre Hot Chip video from last time?? I decided to keep it up – I know I don’t really listen to a lot of “mainstream” music, but I listen to a lot of new stuff (thank you BBC radio) and lately I’ve come across some real corkers. Get Your Freak On Friday is about music, about “what makes you tap your toes, bob your head, wiggle your fingers, cry like an infant, dance like an orangutan, or want to throw things. You list a song and what you do because of it.”

Here’s how it works:
1. Paste the button into your post, linking back to Tristan.
2. Write about aforementioned song. Any one you like.
3. Post the link to your post on Tristan’s post’s Mr. Linky.

This week, I’m currently loving the first proper single from the band Hurts – I’d heard their “pre-single” Wonderful Life last year, which was getting a lot of love across the indie/alternative scene, and recently, they’ve released Better Than Love, which is definitely my current favourite record. It’s fresh, ’80s new wave revival in an original way, and I love their whole look, too – minimalist, black and white, clean cut – very vintage in a post-modern kinda way.  Crank this one up and dance your way into the weekend…

Get Your Freak On Friday

I’d been toying with the idea of a regular feature for a while, and last week, I found the perfect fit over at Ashley’s blog: Get Your Freak On Friday! It’s about music (which is awesome), about “what makes you tap your toes, bob your head, wiggle your fingers, cry like an infant, dance like an orangutan, or want to throw things. You list a song and what you do because of it.”

Here’s how it works:
1. Paste the button into your post, linking back to Tristan.
2. Write about aforementioned song. Any one you like.
3. Post the link to your post on Tristan’s post’s Mr. Linky.

Now I’m adding in a component here, because it’s impossible when a song is accompanied by an amazing music video not to talk about the video, but this week I came across two of them that were pretty awesome. I’m sure most of you have seen the 10-minute product placement extravaganza that’s being dubbed the “new Thriller“, and I must admit I enjoyed it thoroughly.  I love it when pop stars totally defy the conventional, and accompany what sounds like a generic dance floor filler with an 18-rated video comprised of  dead bodies, jailbait ladies, nudity, and a Tarantino-esque killing spree.  Not seen it yet? Take a peek:

Pretty creepy, no? But then I saw the new Hot Chip video, which pushes the bizarre a little further. If you’re not familiar with Hot Chip, they’re an English, Grammy-nominated indie electro-pop band who brought the world ‘Over and Over’, NME’s 2006 single of the year, described as an “insanely catchy kitchen-sink club-stomper; a rhapsodic, DFA-sized slice of smart pop.”  So when I heard the video for their new single ‘I Feel Better’ being described as out-weirding Ms. Gaga, I had to check it out.  “What happens when you let comedian Peter Serafinowicz loose on a pop video?”, asks national newspaper The Guardian. Are you sure you really want to know?

Taking a stab at boy bands, a laser-breathing Christ-like figure, and a floating head… you know you’ve got a corker when you can no longer listen to the song without picturing JLS-lookalikes getting obliterated.  Brilliantly weird – this was definitely the week for the compelling and the bizarre!

Glee karaoke, pulled muscles and the best 24-hour trip ever!

I sit here after spending the last two days running on coffee and adrenaline, glad I took the rest of the day off – this past Valentine’s day weekend was an absolute whirlwind of adventure, but I’m glad to be back (and to not be flying anywhere else for a good little while!)!

The week leading up to V-day was pretty crazy.  The situation at work is – well, I’m still totally in limbo and there’s been no word on whether or not I’m staying yet, and as of right now, I heard we may not even know until the first week of March – which, if I wait to hear, means I have only three weeks to job search.  I don’t want to start early and have to worry about going to interviews while I’m still working and could very well be told I get to stay at my wonderful place – but at the same time, I don’t want to leave it too late and be unemployed at the end of my term if I’m not being kept on.  It’s pretty stressful there right now, but I’m holding onto the hope that whatever is meant to happen will, and praying that it’ll be revealed to me sooner rather than later. Sweet had a crazy week at work too, so by the time the weekend rolled around, we couldn’t be happier to be spending the long weekend relaxing and then heading off to TORONTO to see one o my favourite bands in the whole world!!

Saturday night we went to see Valentine’s Day, hoping it was going to be just as good as Love, Actually.  It wasn’t; it was kind of a ripoff, pretty pointless, but sappy enough to get us both in the spirit, and we came home and shared wine and Rock Band sing-offs until we fell asleep.  We awoke on Sunday morning to fresh snow, and spent the morning snuggling inside, cooking breakfast, and watching episodes of Glee.  Can somebody tell me why I only discovered this show now?!  We’re almost done the first season (so no spoilers!) and we’ve both been blown AWAY at how amazing it is.  It’s hilarious, wonderfully cast, and gives me more goosebumps than standing outside for more than thirty seconds, and we went straight out and bought the first volume of the soundtrack that afternoon.

We also had a kind-of couple’s massage – I’d apparently left it too late to book (I thought a week would be plenty of time!) so the couple’s room was fully booked, but we both went at the same time in separate rooms for some relaxation. Well, for him, anyway.  I took advantage of the fact that this massage therapist stopped halfway through to examine my spine and leg movements and diagnosed me with something that’s evaded countless doctors, chiropractors and therapists for years.  Because he’d had the same thing.  It’s been about ten years now of this pain becoming increasingly worse, and now chronic, and I’ve tried more stretches, exercises and tortuous methods in the hope of relief than I can even count.  He explained what he thought the problem was with complete certainty; something I’ve not seen in the vague and frantic diagnoses of other specialists who’ve been quick to get this anomaly out of their offices.  I’m going back weekly for the next month (exhausting my coverage for the year, but for some reason I totally trust this guy), so fingers crossed.  I left however with my hip flexor going into TOTAL spasm after being shown a stretch, and hobbled out in tears barely able to walk, but remaining hopeful!  At home, Sweet set me up with blankets and an ice pack, and after a few hours it calmed down enough for us to carry on with our Valentine’s day plans.

We exchanged gifts, and ended the night with a fancy dinner at The Keg. This past week I’d read a great deal of blog posts about how Valentine’s day isn’t a big deal for people, how people shouldn’t need a Hallmark holiday to tell people how they feel about them… but I think it’s a lovely holiday.  Even when I was single I took the opportunity to send cards to friends and family telling them how much they mean to me, and yes, people should do that throughout the year, but if Valentine’s is the one day some people do – then for one day, maybe the world can feel that much more love.  I feel naive and childish in feeling this way, in a world so quick to condemn February 14th as invented, saccharine, money-grabbing rubbish – but I see it as just one more day in the year when the world focuses on love instead of hate, and I count my blessings for having an amazing fiance, family, and friends like you reading this right now.

The night was wrapped up with packing, in eager anticipation for our early morning flight to Toronto!! I’d never been before, and luckily here in Winnipeg it was a holiday, and we were heading out to see the almighty Mumford and Sons. I’d come across them about a year ago, and ordered in their album from the UK as soon as it was released last year, and soon wrote a 5-star review of it for Frequency Magazine.  They were heart-wrenching, foot-stomping, banjo-picking masters of the poetic, and we couldn’t pass up an opportunity to see them live – even if it did mean red-eye flights and a couple of hundred dollars to get there.  My heart jumped a little when I saw they’d sold out, and at the singer’s surprised happiness to see everyone singing along, despite the album not yet being available in North America.  There was an excited, energetic buzz filling the room; they commanded the crowd dressed in vintage waistcoats, rotating instruments, and had the crowd jumping up and down pumping fists while on the edge of their seats two tracks later in awe at the raw passion, soul and mastery of lyricism in front of them.  It was nothing short of stunning, and I hope they get the worldwide recognition they deserve. And let’s hope so – today, they were talking about them on CBC Radio 2 (apparently the album is finally out this side of the pond!), and tonight, they’re going to be on The Late Show with David Letterman.  PVRs at the ready! 🙂

I uploaded the videos I caught last night here on my YouTube account 🙂 It was the perfect end to a wonderful day of exploring the city on foot, seeing old friends, enjoying a city so full of culture and singing our hearts out.  We went up the CN Tower (very scary!), checked out the CBC building, did a little shopping (nice hats?), ate amazing food and explored Chinatown.  Between getting back to the hotel at midnight and having to be up at 3:30 to walk to the nearest airport express bus stop we’d completely exhausted ourselves with adventure. This was such a great weekend 🙂

Current Inspiration: Marina Diamandis

A little while ago, I wrote my first OMG life wouldn’t be worth living if it weren’t for music like this post, and I mentioned one of the artists I was most looking forward to in 2010.  Her name is Marina Diamandis, currently going by Marina and the Diamonds, and I can unreservedly say she’s the freshest, most imaginative, intelligent female musician to hit the airwaves in a long time.  In today’s music scene, artists like the Fergie and Lady Gaga ascend to ridiculous levels of power through radio-friendly pop packages that talk of fashion and promiscuity (I love Gaga’s music videos and “stand up for the geeks” style, don’t get me wrong, but there’s only so much credit I can give someone whose hits include lines like ‘let’s have some fun, this beat is sick, I wanna take a ride on your disco stick’).  Marina stands out in a sea of scantily-clad, generic pop princesses with her smart lyrics, atypical style, creativity, and an enormous sense of who she is.  Her album isn’t out until the 22nd, but I’ve already pre-ordered a copy from the UK, and there are 3 tracks that make this one of my most anticipated albums in a very long time.

Her first single, Hollywood, is somewhat of a shocker; an infectious reflection on “the mess that is America” that’s hands-down the best single of 2010 so far.  On her blog, she states:

“I crave America. I always have, always will. I’m embarrassed to say it as it’s strange but I think about it every single day. It is equally fascinating as it is vile and alive as it is dead.  My first trip was in 2005 and really felt like I’d entered a bubble – nothing feels real.  It’s exhilarating and confusing. As much as it completes me, it empties me. Does anyone else feel like this? Americans reading this blog – how do you feel? What is it like living in America? Why am I so obsessed.. Why do I remain addicted..?”

The lyrics make me wonder how she’ll go down stateside, and evoke memories of perhaps one of the most misinterpreted songs to date – Born in the USA was writtten to cast a shameful eye on how America treated its Vietnam veterans, yet to this day, Springsteen fans chant it as a patriotic song about American pride.  Take a look: Marina’s lyrics in her debut single are about as ballsy as they come.

American queen is the American dream
American queen is the American dream

She is a Polish girl in America
Tall, tanned hot blonde called Anya
I asked her “Why would you want to be a Hollywood wife?”
“Because I don’t wanna end up living in a dive on Vine”
Air hostesses doing gossip magazine crosswords on a flight to old LA
39 years old with a mile-high sheen
Trying to stimulate a mind that is slowly starting to decay

Hollywood infected your brain
You wanted kissing in the rain
Living in a movie scene
Puking American dreams
I’m obsessed with the mess that’s America
I’m obsessed with the mess that’s America

She continues to promote anti-conformity with a second track, I Am Not A Robot.

You’ve been acting awful tough lately
Smoking a lot of cigarettes lately
But inside, you’re just a little baby
It’s okay to say you’ve got a weak spot
You don’t always have to be on top
Better to be hated than loved, loved, loved for what you’re not

Guess what? I’m not a robot, a robot
Guess what? I’m not a robot, a robot

But my favourite track so far has to be the primal Mowgli’s Road, an eccentric number whose tribal beats and Kate Bush-esque vocals combine to reflect the lyrics perfectly.  It’s quirky and indie, yet catchy enough to hit mainstream radio, and unlike anything else in the charts today.

Ten silver spoons coming after me
One life with one dream on repeat
I’ll escape if I try hard enough
‘Til King of the Jungle calls my bluff

Oh Lord
I have been sold
I must take the unforsaken road
There’s a fork in the road
I’ll do as as I am told
And I don’t know, don’t know, don’t know, don’t know
Who I want to be

The lyrics may say otherwise, but I don’t know if I’ve seen anyone quite so sure of who she is, and what she wants to stand up for.  Crank this one up and try not to be sucked in.

Music is my boyfriend, music’s my imaginary friend…

Anyone close to me knows that music is a huge part of my life, and it dawned on me the other day that it’s something I hardly ever write about.  Once in a while I might have a little rant about the state of popular music today *waves cane* but otherwise, I’ve noticed I tend to refrain from exclaiming over the joys of whatever happens to be filling my ears.  I think that’s probably because I’ve stayed faithful to the homeland – my days are filled with BBC radio, NME recommendations, and anything sung by anybody from Wales.  Sadly, this hardly makes for relatable conversation – but I felt it was about time I indulged and wrote about one of the things I love most in this world, and hopefully got some feedback (or better, recommendations!).

There were a number of albums over the last couple of years I’d heard a few tracks from, and then promptly pre-ordered from overseas, feeling like an excitable child on Christmas morning when they arrived in the post, jumping around and rushing to put them in the DVD player.  (Surprisingly, I don’t own a stereo.)  One of them happened to be an eagerly anticipated release from my favourite band in the whole world, Muse (who by horrible misfortune happen to be coming to every other place in Canada but Winnipeg – Leanne, Sean, Amber, Hillary… I’m looking at you for vicarious living opportunities!).

I’d discovered them by mistake six or seven years ago when I happened to be dating a radio DJ who got lots of sample CDs in the mail to potentially play on his show. He’d been sent a Vanessa Carlton CD, which obviously wasn’t going on the air, but we pulled it out one evening for a laugh, and it just so happened to be completely the wrong disc inside – instead, it was a copy of Time Is Running Out.  We gave it a listen, and then put it right back on again.  Wavering falsettos, smart lyrics, an incredibly funky bassline and a totally anthemic chorus reminiscent of early Radiohead had us hooked – so I promptly bought (my) first Muse album, Absolution.  Releases over the next six years were consistently brilliant, though their penultimate-to-date verged into new territory – and to be honest, I felt like I did when Radiohead pulled out Hail to the Thief.  But after seeing them live at Wembley in the most heart-stopping performance (to a crowd of >70,000) I’ve ever seen, I was still excited about The Resistance.  And it just so happened to be their best and most impressive record yet.  It’s a pow­er­ful, political, intelligent, and overall stunning epic, and I struggle to find another band even close to being in the same league in terms of creativity, boldness and sheer imagination.  And the first single sounded like the Dr. Who theme, which in my opinion, only means bonus points.

Another incredible album 2009 brought to my door was the wonderful Sigh No More by Mumford and Sons (take a listen!), a small English band who I’m flying out to Toronto to see in February (!), but who, puzzlingly, have seemingly failed to make north American frequencies.  I’m not one for folky, country-type stuff at all – I’m a total indie kid with a love of anything Brit-rock or new wave – but this was unlike anything I’d ever heard.   It’s a perfect balance of heart-wrenching, goosebump-inducing, earnest longing with a heavy dose of bluegrass and roots, dominated by thumping kick drums and a killer banjo (yes, really) that had me cranking my speakers and jumping around the living room. It’s an extraordinary debut; a stunning combination of the expertly crafted upbeats and raw, emotionally ripping passion, each song fully able to stand alone as a fabulously crafted masterpiece.

Toward the end of the year, through lucky chance and impeccable timing, two relatively new artists were brought to my ears.  Patrick Wolf’s Damaris played on national radio, prompting me to find a copy of the album, The Bachelor, immediately.  It wasn’t too long before I did, and it’s quite honestly the strangest and most wonderfully artistic thing I’ve heard in a very long time.  It’s the only place I’ve ever found such abundant strings and choirs juxtaposed with electronic beats and a voice that is at the same time as much ‘80s new wave as it is medieval minstrel.  For a girl who studied medieval history and English literature, and who loves nothing more than to play old Human League EPs on vinyl, it was the stuff dreams were made of.  It’s epic, intelligent, dark and beautiful, and its disjointed, individually ill-fitting tracks coalesce to craft an unexpectedly fluid, and altogether elegant whole.  This man is an artistic genius – and I can’t wait for part two of this release to  hit shops later this year.

And lastly, an artist whose album is as of yet unreleased – Marina and the Diamonds.  I caught one of her (their?) tracks while listening to the BBC a few weeks ago, and instantly thought of Kate Bush.  From what I know, she’s a 50% Greek, 50% Welsh, and 100% very cool singer-songwriter armed with keyboards, retro auras and bucketloads of talent.  The tracks I’ve heard so far – ‘I Am Not a Robot’, ‘Seventeen’ and the wonderful ‘Mowgli’s Road’ (do it…) are unlike anything else being produced in the world of pop music today.   They’re catchy enough to be on mainstream radio, but are edgy, slightly bizarre, and as evocative of early Kate Bush enough to hook the indiest of indie kids.  The album’s supposedly out in a couple of months – and I can’t wait.

Hope you didn’t mind my sharing – but these guys are the best thing to hit my radar in the last little while, and I think they deserve a bit of praise spread across the internet, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I am!

Who’s rocking your world these days?

Time Capsule: A Decade in Review

It’s the end of the first decade of a new millennium.  At the end of the year, bloggers usually write some sort of reflection on the year that was.  But I feel like I’ve kind of been doing that continually all year long, so instead of rehashing 2009, I couldn’t think of a better way to end the year (and indeed, the decade) by reflecting on my world of the last decade.  I’ll try and be brief – but here’s my take on the noughties.

2000: This was a big year for me.  Looking back at old picture-stuffed, handwritten diaries, I see my departure from the country I call home.  I see paperbound notebooks, scrawled with messages between friends wishing me luck with boys, with Canada, and with an entirely new life.  I see wonky teeth gone forever and braces finally removed.  I see nervousness, and excitement as I left my life behind and started fresh on an entirely new continent, initial feelings of anxiety quickly surpassed by those of enthusiasm, as I was thrown into high school, and everybody wanted to know the new kid in town.  It seems a million years ago, but we were all still using Napster, Britney Spears was the freshest thing since sliced bread, and Madonna was getting ready to take over the world all over again.

2001: My first proper year in high school.  I started a rigorous advanced program and made two friends I stuck around with for the rest of my high school years, one of which I’m still good friends with today.  I discovered my love of literature and the English language, and decided I wanted to be a teacher.  My first long-term relationship began, with a dark haired Rodrigo Santoro look-alike recently landed from the Ukraine.  Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman were still together, the world was taken by a storm of fantasy as Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings hit the screens, and elsewhere in the world, three thousand people lost their lives as planes crashed into the twin towers. The world was in mourning.

2002: I discovered I could sing, met some guys in a punk band and got up in front of the school and sang Offspring and No Use for a Name covers. I had my first proper breakup after a year and a half, and started learning about my relationship behaviour, an unfortunate pattern I’d soon become very hurt by, and wouldn’t truly realise for another six years.  I got my first job as a “Language Services Facilitator”, very scared of the working world and grown-up responsibility, but very grateful to not be working at McDonald’s or Wal-Mart like most of my fellow classmates.  The music world mourned the deaths of TLC’s Lisa Lopes, The Who’s John Entwistle, and the legendary Joe Strummer.  My new city of Winnipeg is put on the map as My Big Fat Greek Wedding becomes the most successful independent film ever.

2003: I finished high school and headed to university with every intention of becoming an English teacher.  I took English literature, medieval history, psychology and the history of art, and it was through friends I met here that I met Sweet for the first time. We dated for a month (before he unceremoniously dumped me right before Christmas!), and I also first met my best friend. Myspace and Facebook were launched, and changed the face of communication forever.

2004: At nineteen years old, I decided I was ready to move out.  I left home against all common sense, moved in with my then-boyfriend, an internationally travelling showman, juggler and contortionist, and realised how rubbish I was at being left behind.  I worked part time at the post office, and went to university part time, ultimately dropping out due to lack of money, lack of time, and our eventual breakup.  This year, I worked as a postal clerk!  X Factor mania began its reign of television supremacy, and a tsunami took the lives of hundreds of thousands.  This was the year I discovered the magic of the Winnipeg Fringe Festival , found my love of theatre, and have been back religiously every summer since.

2005: The BBC relaunched Doctor Who, my favourite and, according to the Guinness Book of Records, “longest-running science fiction television show in the world, and as the most successful science fiction series of all time.”  I was hooked for life.  I temporarily moved back into my parents’ house, living out of boxes on a sofa in the basement for a few weeks until I found my first apartment, into which I moved with my very first flatmate.  I discovered the horrors of joint cohabitation, but couldn’t afford to live alone, and so began my string of exasperating roomies.  2005 was also the year I got fired for the first and only time in my life, and I decided to go off to another province to work in a holiday resort for the entire summer.  I soon realised what a relentless homebody I was, and came back after about three weeks.  I took the first job I could find, and began my brief stint in the world of retail.  Elsewhere in the world, the first video is uploaded to YouTube, and within six months, the site was hitting 100 million views per day.

2006: I quit working in retail, and got my  soul back! I landed a job as a graphic designer (and soon after, office manager) at a print shop and though I stopped feeling bad about never finishing my English degree, I still longed to be learning again.  I pursued graphic design, learning on my own and getting better and better, and stayed there for three years.    This was the year I got my beautiful little cat, too, but it was also the year my parents split up.  An extremely close relationship with my dad began, but my relationship with my mother went in the opposite direction.  In 2006 I really got into British music in a big way, and discovered my love of bands like Muse, Kasabian, Keane and the Arctic Monkeys.  Gnarls Barkley’s Crazy takes the world by storm and becomes quite possibly the biggest song of the decade.  Twitter is launched – and it takes another three years before I eventually hop on the bandwagon.

2007: was the beginning of the worst year ever.  I (stupidly) got engaged to someone who started off great, but ultimately wound up lying, stealing money, doing drugs, and becoming abusive.  I lost a lot of my self-confidence  and started questioning the person I was.  I learned a lot of valuable lessons, and I wish I could go back to my 2007 self and give her a slap in the face and tell her to stop being so naive.  But 2007 had lots of good moments too – I visited England, France,  went to the best concert of my life and saw my favourite band of all time.  I had my tonsils out over Christmas of this year – THE most painful experience of my life, and found myself alone, in pain, and completely detached from the real world.  Luckily I reconnected with Kyla, resurrecting a wonderful friendship after years of absence.

2008: I had my first year of really being single and living without a flatmate.  I learned that I didn’t have to take every offer that came my way and just say no and be by myself for a while, and let my heart heal.  I went out dancing every week and threw myself into the indie music scene, staying up until 2:00 on weeknights.  In late spring, Sweet came back into my life after about 5 years not being in it, shortly before another trip back to the UK.  I visited old friends, fell in love with Ireland, and discovered I missed Sweet more than anything, and came back into his arms, where we officially decided to give it another go.  My best friend got married in a beautifully intimate ceremony, and I experienced my first moments of real, true love.  I had to give up my second cat, Chloe, and wept for days.  Heath Ledger passed away and the world was in shock.  I was encouraged to leave my comfy job at the print shop and go for something more, so I took a chance, quit, and spent the end of the year in California.

And now I’m wrapping up the decade with what’s been, so far, the best year of my life.  I started with a goal of escaping the shell of a person I was, taking risks and ending up exactly where I want to be.  I moved in to my first house, had an amazing year with good friends, growing closer with my dad, got a job I absolutely love, got engaged, developed my faith, and met my all-time favourite author in the flesh, a moment I will cherish for the rest of my life.  I enjoyed a bunch of amazing music, programmes and movies.  I’m in the final of a national blogging contest and I’ve just started writing for an online music magazine – I’m doing what I love, and being given more and more opportunities to do it.  2009 has been an incredible, life-changing year, and I’m starting the new decade with a spirit of excitement, determination, and gratitude.  Next year already holds a lot of anticipation.  My first trip to the Caribbean, to the biggest city in Canada, to England and to wrap it all up in December, our winter wedding.  I can’t even imagine what I’ll be writing over the next ten years, but I know I can’t wait to share it all with you. 🙂

Happy New Year!!