07/18—Why the Viral Cafe?

Well, the first song just “came out” while I was suffering from a very nasty viral pneumonia. Combine 'virus', the absurdity of the thought that any of this music might become viral, and the Vinyl Cafe (the fictional record store), and there you have it.

As for that first song—I had been knocked down hard for about three weeks and when I was finally able to sit at the piano, the song just emerged. I think that the pneumonia contributed, in part, simply by resetting things. (I always feel fresher and more creative on the piano when I have not played for a while.) However, I think the pneumonia may have also contributed by taking some sort of edge off me; allowing me to express myself without being too concerned about being exposed. Or maybe the virus just changed my brain.

08/18—From skilled floor hockey to unskilled music

When I was a young boy, I was really good at piano. Or, more specifically, I was really good at shooting at it. The piano in our basement served as our floor hockey net. When I was not playing with my brothers or friends, I practiced for hours shooting at various spots on the piano. Unfortunately, I never come close to the same level of virtuosity when, years later, I started actually playing the piano. I might add that this new found enthusiasm for playing ensured that the piano stayed in the basement.

09/18—Fiddle is to Violin as .... is to Piano

As a percussionist in the Lachine High School band, I had to play the xylophone and tubular bells on occasion. However, as may be obvious, I never took piano lessons. My 'technique' — chording with the left hand and playing the melody with the right — is modelled after my Auntie Pat, who anchored our family sing songs with her piano and voice, her boundless energy, and her joy for the music. ("All my memories, gather 'round her".) My dad was also a big part of those gatherings. He would variously play the guitar, banjo, mandolin, or fiddle, and also sang. I love the idea that a violin can also be called a fiddle, and sometimes wonder why there isn't a corresponding term for piano. I like to think that that unnamed thing is what I play.

10/18—Lakehouse Sing Songs

Speaking of those sing songs. They would start with children's music ("I knew  and old lady who swallowed a fly", "Puff the magic dragon", "Ha ha this a way", "Oh Suzanna", etc.) and then, after the youngest went to bed, move on to the main fare of folk, country, spiritual/gospel, and—often towards the end of the evening—Irish music, which my father particularly loved. Of course, we sang lots of Canadian music, including Lightfoot, Mitchell, Cohen, and the Tysons. "Song for a Winter's Night", "The Circle Game", and many others are indelibly etched into my brain.

02/19—Ethan's gift and GarageBand

For Christmas, my son Ethan gave me a midi keyboard which I can use, with GarageBand, to record tracks for various virtual instruments (including pianos of course) and auditory tracks. What an amazing gift.

02/19—Singing

Against my better judgement, I have tried singing a couple of songs. I found an old mic in the basement which I can use with GarageBand. I find that listening to the (pre-recorded) instrument tracks on earphones helps a lot. The first song I added my vocals to was Rearview Mirror. I was going to get someone else to sing it but decided to keep my vocals after receiving 'positive' comments: "you have a Bob Dylan thing going on", "you are channelling Tom Waits", and "it is part of the charm". Ha ha.

06/19—My New Clavinova

A couple of months ago my upright piano finally gave up the ghost and would no longer stay in tune. I consulted with a local piano expert who said it was not worth repairing as it was "110 years old and not very good to begin with".

The good news is that I replaced it with a Clavinova CLP-685, which I absolutely love. It is beautiful, a joy to play, and has a great sound. It also has many fantastic features: I can play with headphones, record music, add rhythms and other effects, and use it as an amazing sound system. And, of course, it will never go out of tune.

I am very fortunate.

06/19—Tricks with a knife

I am truly a talentless musician. My piano skills are extremely limited, and it took me forever to acquire them. It seems to me that all I have learned are a few tricks. Like a kid with a knife. Composing seems the same. (In fact I kind of feel that way about everything I do. A few tricks but no real talent.) The advantage of composing your own songs is that, when you play them, nobody can say you are not playing them properly. (Or... I am such a poor musician that I had to write songs.)

06/19—Keep it for yourself (and friends you trust)

I struggle with the idea of sharing this music. So far I have only shared this music with a handful of people; mostly friends who are musicians/artists who I trust and who—I know—know how vulnerable I feel. I have contemplated performing (a song or two) at a local coffee shop which hosts musical evenings and where people are very supportive. But I am not sure. A friend of mine, a talented song writer, advised me that it is best to write music with the intention of keeping it for yourself; anything above and beyond that is a bonus. Good advice.

09/19—2:42 is a long time

I am very aware that asking someone to listen to one of my songs is a significant request. Indeed, it seems like such an imposition that I only do it occasionally. I know that, depending on my mood, I can feel irritated when someone asks me to watch a video clip or look at a bunch of photos. It seem strange that I can be so adverse to losing 2-3 minutes of my day, especially when I consider how much time I spend doing non-essential things. However, I guess this kind of time is important. It is part of a tempo we live by that includes bouts of creatively and sheer hard work and recharging and tuning in and out. So, yes, 2:42 is a long time, and I really appreciate it when someone listens to one of my songs.

03/20—A Stressful Time

A very, very stressful time. (I am wishing I had chosen a different name for this site—although this is hardly a big concern in light of what is going on.) I was thinking that the creative arts can provide a much needed refuge from the cascade of scary  news we are all dealing with—in newspapers, on the radio, online, and in conversations. Of course, we need to stay up-to-date so that we can take care of those around us and ourselves. But it also seems important to find outlets where we can release, at least momentarily, some of the great stress we are under. So whether you play music, or paint, or sculpt, or write, or knit, or design, or do carpentry, or whatever it is that you do, maybe it is important to put a little time aside for that. That and exercise too.

03/20—Pruning

I recently revamped this site, seriously pruning it in the process. There were far too many instrumental 'songs' -- simple melodies -- that I recorded and posted in my naive (dumb) enthusiasm. I am embarrassed about that now. But if I am exceedingly generous with myself, I guess I can see it as part of an evolving journey. When one finally creates something that it better—a relative term—than what came before, the earlier stuff seems trivial and shallow and poor. And I suppose this may be a repeating pattern; that the songs that are currently on the site will, some day, seem trivial and shallow and poor to me. (If I can do better... and even if I cannot.) It is a good word—pruning. Optimistic. Suggesting that something more beautiful will arise from the cutting. Sometimes I imagine how I would happily discard all of this music of mine if I could create one beautiful thing.

04/20—Superstar (¬)

So I just finished writing a new song called Superstar. I am very aware that the lyrics are not deep, and can be readily dismissed as sentimental sap. I just liked the melody and wanted to do something with it. Sure, I can fantasize about being a lyrical genius like John Prine or Joni Mitchell or Leonard Cohen. But I am most assuredly not. And if I tried to only write songs that have profound lyrics .... well I would never write anything. (I know ... I can hear you teasing me and saying that that might not be a bad thing.) So I suspend my self-criticism and just plough ahead, enjoying the process.

04/20—A Gift

I recently worked up the courage to share this music with my cousin Patti, who is deeply musical and who has a beautiful voice. Her response was amazing. She was very encouraging, of course, but also gave me some very helpful feedback about the music. That is, she engaged with the music—seeing it for what it is, taking is seriously, and offering me a little of her knowledge and understanding of music and music making. As an artist—even an old, aspiring artist—I think this is the greatest compliment one can receive. In her response, Patti also included a recording of her singing "There is Beauty" while using a shaker. What an amazing gift. I love her interpretation of the song.

Update 08/23: When I received Patti's recording I asked her if I could add it to this site. At the time, she was reluctant because she made the recording very quickly and didn't have a chance to warm up her voice. However, I recently asked her again and she agreed to let me add it. Here is the link. Thank you Patti!

05/20—Connections

After I wrote Heartache I decided to take a chance and emailed it to Laura Pratt, whose article in the Globe & Mail inspired the song. I explained to her that I am an entirely amateur composer with no aspirations of recognition but that I thought she might get a kick out of the song, or at least find it amusing. I received a lovely email back from Laura who said she was touched by the song and the fact that I sent it. As it turns out, she was at a family get together when she got my email and played the song for all gathered! She generously told me that everyone really liked the song. (In a follow up email, I told her that Heartache was now my most widely listened to song!) A friend of mine, who is an avid and talented photographer, told me that he occasionally shares photos with friends who he thinks will find them meaningful. If an artistic effort connects with even one person, he said, it is a marvel.

06/20—Superstar (again)

I quite often play my own songs—as a way of practicing and remembering them—and one of my recent favourites is Superstar. In a previous note (see above) I was quite dismissive about the lyrics of this song. However, I think I was being far too harsh. Yes, the lyrics are simple and sentimental but it would, perhaps, be wrong to say they are not deep. They express emotions and feeling that are true to me. I mean every word. So that is something.

06/20—Saul Bellow

I was thinking about Saul Bellow the other day. In my 20s I read Saul Bellow's Seize of the Day and then, a little later, Herzog, which made a big impression on me. Herzog was written when Bellow was 49 and it focuses on the main character's (Herzog's) midlife crisis after his second divorce. I remember wondering at the time if Bellow could have written the book if he, himself, had not been through a divorce. And I was not just thinking about the content. I was mainly thinking about motivation. What drives a ~50 year old to create art. I remember wondering whether a thoroughly happy man could possibly produce works of such depth and despair and dark humour. Whether losing and yearning for love is a prerequisite for being creative and driven. Muses to motivate. I remember thinking about these things again when Steve Earle produced his album Washington Square Serenade (2008) at the age of 53. It seems clear that he found a new lease on life—and a massive creative spark—when he hooked up with Alison Moorer at that time, as several of the songs on that album are about her. Of course, they are no longer together. And Saul Bellow ended up being married 5 times!

12/20—Music I Make

My son Ethan sent me this humorous and all-too-true image from bandmemes666.

2/21—Rolling Along

I was wondering, the other day, why I keep writing song after song when I know they are not very good and that, at best, only a handful of people will ever hear them. I guess that I have always had the ability—requiring some combination of chutzpah, misplaced fortitude, and imagination boarding on self-delusion—to be enamoured by what I am doing at the moment. This includes the songs, or the potential songs, I am currently fiddling around with. They never turn out as well as I imagine they might, with the cold light of day exposing their limitations. However, I remain undaunted and am able to marshall up enthusiasm for the next song(s) I am working on. And so while I do not love my own music (see previous post), I do love the music-in-the-making, and maybe the possibility that something beautiful might emerge.

6/21—The Whales in the Room

A few months ago I asked my friend Diane Black ~ an extraordinary Kingston artist ~ if she could create a sculpture to place above my piano. I mentioned that I liked whales. Well, she did and last weekend we held an "unveil the whale" event where I saw her creation for the first time. I think they are amazing and I love their company when I am playing. You can see more of Diane's work at www.dblackstudio.com and dianeblackceramics.com and on instagram at www.instagram.com/dianeblack.ceramics/.

8/21—Near Misses

Some of the songs I have written have been sparked by thoughts and feelings I have had about people I know but have then evolved into something more general or abstract. However, a few of my songs have been written about friends of mine and I have been very apprehensive when sharing these songs with them. I worry about 'near misses'—where it is obvious that I am aiming to capture some part of their story but get it wrong. Near misses can be jarring, whether it is two colours that almost match, two notes that are slightly off key, or when someone draws a conclusion about you that misses the mark. Better to miss completely. I just hope I have not caused offence with any of my songs. And if I have, I am sorry.

6/22—Allusions

When writing lyrics, I sometimes borrow from—or make an allusion to—other songs. As an example, in Flowered Dress, the phrase "put the stars to shame" borrows from "put the sun to shame" in Gordon Lightfoot's song Did She Mention my Name? I liked the idea of including these lyrics because the story in Flowered Dress occurred in and around my family lake house where Lightfoot's music was a mainstay of our sing songs and is deeply ingrained in me. As another example, in A Better Day (Oh Say Can you See), the phrase "two and two and fifty" comes from Pete Seeger's lyrics in "One Man's Hands", a spiritual folk song that was also a staple of our sing songs. Including this phrase just seems like the right thing to do.

4/23—His Aim was Sure

I have been having a lot of fun playing around with my new Nord Piano 5, a stage piano with two pianos engines and two synth engines that can be overlayed. Inspired by some of the samples that are available, I decided to write a "cowboy" song. The result is called Yesteryears which combines an upright and a harmonica. The lyrics include a reference to one's aim being "sure". When this word popped into my mind, I wasn't sure whether it was an expression people might use or understand. So I did a Google search and found the article shown below. After reading this article, there was no way I wasn't going to use the expression.

5/23—Gary and my Nord Piano

My new setup in our basement, which includes my Nord Piano 5 and a height-adjustable desk that Gary—my daughter's cat—can use to get to the window.

2/24—Naomi and Ethan 2019

I recently came across this image taken from a video of my daughter Naomi and my son Ethan singing together during the Christmas holidays in 2019. My favourite thing of all.

6/24—Places

From time to time, I get to this place ~ the place where I am right now ~ where I am embarrassed by the music I make, even more embarrassed that I have bothered to write it, and deeply embarrassed that I have shared it. I feel completely stupid. I feel pathetic. And I feel great shame. 

In this place, I can’t imagine composing any more; writing contrived lyrics set to trivial melodies. Even playing my piano seems like a crime; playing my tedious music or butchering real music written by songwriters. Angering the Gods of beauty. For me, trying to fly at all is flying too close to the sun.

And I do not know if I will move away from this place, back to that other place where I somehow sidestep the truth, suspend reality, deceive myself. And I wonder which place is more unhealthy. I guess I always have.