February 16, 2017

Twilight Bond Girl

There, in the twilight between sleeping and wake, I wait, so often, and while in my ethereal waiting room, I hear music. Today's aural entrancement was my very own Bond song - 3 distinct instrument parts documented in the recorder on my phone through the weak powers of a sleep-stripped voice. Deciphering apparent mumbles later will begin confused and disappointed, until I hear the strong spine once more, and here, it shall live in the solid world - my Bond song.
I'm typing this with one eye open.

February 10, 2017

Documenting Dream

I just watched a strange but amazing documentary in a dream, and at the end, just before the credits rolled, the director walked in front of me, a takeaway coffee in his hand, he looked at me with a small smile, and said "All small things in the hands of God". I tried to tell him I loved the film but started coughing, and woke up.
What did he mean?

February 9, 2017

Shop at the Generation GAP

I have something bad to tell you guys.
Those of us born in the early '80s - we are MILLENNIALS.
Why did no-one tell me?!! I've never drawn on Groucho Mark eyebrows or hunted down gunt pants in a mothballed St. Vinnies - I don't feel okay with this classification!
And to make it worse, I graduated the exact year that it was generalised millennials would graduate - 2000.
I didn't surf the web until I was 13! Gen Z, aka, 'The Naturals' should be Millennials. We already got enough slop being called Gen Y.
Sure, I could ignore labels and go on living my life in my usual self-designed fashion, but my inner-contrarian rises up! Like a phoenix from the ashes of a thing that has ashes in it. Currently-known Millenials are wearing the same fashions we lived through in the '90s - this doesn't work! Cast wider this generation thigh gap! Keep your Flume chai latte vegan Tinder top-buns away from me. I'm going over here to yell at kids to stay off a lawn I'll never be able to afford thanks to the Baby Boomers.

February 6, 2017

Room at the Top

Listening to my favourite new podcast (though it's not new, I'm new to it, so maybe I'm its favourite new listener?), and it's all about creating stand-up comedy, interviewing comedians.

The guest on the ep I'm ingesting today was paraphrasing Billy Connolly, telling me that the scruff man once said that there's plenty of room at the top - the middle and bottom are overcrowded. 

Gosh I like that. It's a sentiment shared by screenwriting.
Creatives assume, 'As long as I write better than Sharknado, I'm a shoe-in!' When the truth is you gotta be better than the best. That shoe has more fancy footwork ahead of it to get in any good door.

February 5, 2017

A Girl With a Kazoo

Playing first at Woodies can be difficult.
It's 4pm, too hot, then rainy, and people are overhung and unsure if they want to go out.

I soundcheck, and start playing to at most 8 people - including me. Nerves shake my voice and stick my fingers to a concert ukulele neck, but I sound good.

The courtyard slowly fills. Silent faces watch, some listen in delightful rapture. I like seeing people rendered powerless by the strike or sail of my voice. Sometimes I sound like Alannis, sometimes like Jeff Buckley, sometimes like Lana, sometimes like me. 

But the longer I play, despite those watchful eyes and hearkening ears, applause disappears. Not because they don't like it - they're distracted talking.

Now, I'm a shitfuck who also talks, but god almighty my hands slap together the instant another artist's song ends. A five second lag and obligatory clap is disheartening as fuck when you just kicked the dick out of an intimate song. Aural wallpaper. Background sound.
I cracked out the kazoo for the first time since I played in Berlin, this new one is purple, matching my recent theme of excessive purpleage. 
Kazoo, ukulele and scatting all in one song - pretty hard to top that manic pixie dream girl combo.

When my set was over ten songs later, a German woman came up and praised me - riveted she was, noticibly into it the whole time, and her Lou Reed partner loving my song selections. She wanted to know when my next gig is, and judging her enthusiasm, I think she'll really come.
I don't like playing to near-empty rooms. I'm not dying for attention either - performing is a very dissociative act for me.
I want to see fingers tapping. Heads thinking. Humans feeling. I want to give everyone more than what they paid for or expected. 

I wish I'd been playing second slot again, got the bigger crowd.
But for now I relish the challenge of warming up a Sunday afternoon room, asking people to slow down, shut up, listen, by playing something I think they may like, meeting new people who are just as excited about music, and occasionally remembering - holy shit, I'm living my dream.

February 3, 2017

God Help Them

"Voice-over! My, that must be a glamorous, perfect job!"

"Totally! Today I have to record a voice-over targeting children with the words: 

'Conflict started when people chose to do things their own way rather than God’s way. Through this journey of discovering peace, it will become clear that following God’s path is best.' 

So in one fell swoop I get to brainwash children into unsustainable beliefs that will only help to unravel them in growing years, AND pay one day of rent! Thanks God."