I have been told, repeatedly that 'notes' on facebook are not the place for writing. People constantly ask me about my love of music and where it came from, what I believe in etc. So this is an old blog, transferred here for easy reading purposes .... Enjoy, hopefully.
This last month has been a learning curve. Learning that some people view music without passion, which I have had to learn to just accept without understanding. That is a concept that is as alien to me as to why people like U2. That however is a different story. Music for me is tied into passion. Music is memories and reminders, and music is life and love and tears and laughter. Everything in my life has some kind of relationship to music. Those who know me, know that nothing is better to me than live music, add an impossibly cold glass of Sauvignon to the mix and I will literally be smiling from ear to ear (that is a good note for potential date ideas).
I find it is damn near impossible (unless you are sticking pins in your eyes, and that would be a tad drastic) to be unhappy when faced with good live music. I can chart my life by music. I blame my Mother and Father, my father slightly more if I had to be fair because he fed my ‘habit’ as a youngster, giving me shiny LP’s of people like Hall and Oates, Buddy Holly, Alexander O Neil and Tom Jones to name but a few. He also managed to pass on an uncanny ability to pick a winner out of a bag of rubbish, we can see a hit at 20 paces. It may or may not be the only one your band is going to have, but a hit it will be. If you haven’t heard of it, I can bet you money right here and now that you go listen to it and you will hear a hit too. Living in a box, by living in a box. Classic song. Will forever remind me of Papa T. He also taught me to love all kinds of music. One minute we can listen to Luther Vandross, and then flip over and throw some ACDC into the mix. My Father still does it to this day. He pointed out Flo Rida to me months before I had heard of him. He pronounced an unknown black singer as a potential up and coming, and so Toni Braxton was born. He took me to see Tom Jones when I was 8 years old, he forked out money for me to see Alexander O Neil, the Buddy Show, Luther Vandross to name but a few, he spent a small fortune in the name of teaching his little girl to love music as much as him and my mum do. It was money well spent. Not only is live music my love, it is my work and my escape. How lucky am I ?
My mother on the other hand taught me to be fearless in my appreciation of talent. I can hear a good voice, or spot a talented musician with a blindfold on. That’s her doing. She taught me to see talent in any shape or form and not be scared to love it. I have spent my life being annoyed by people who ‘conform’. I have been to see Michael Bolton numerous times, I would sell my liver (if anyone would have it) and quite possibly my left hand to go and see Michael Ball again, once just wasn’t enough. I say this out loud, to people and they are stunned. How can someone who works in ‘music’ dare say that she loves Michael Ball. That’s embarrassing. Really ? I find it more embarrassing that you so called music lovers and artists cannot see the talent that one man has. To have been the Phantom of the Opera, to have been Andrew Lloyd Webbers darling, to have been our Eurovision hope, to have over 10 albums that have sold into the millions. To have possibly one of the best voices of our time (acknowledged by king of cool Simon Cowell), is that embarrassing ? Because he doesn’t fit into what is ‘cool’. Amy Winehouse thinks he is the coolest guy alive. Does that make him a little cooler ? I hope the answer is no, because she to me is everything that is wrong with the music industry, in one woman.
I have been taught by Mama bear to watch those DVDs of mine and be proud of the fact I adore his voice. I said out loud that Brandon Flowers cant actually sing, people look at me like I just committed a crime. Madonna, one of the most successful artists alive. Cant sing. Talented ? Yes, vocally ? Nope. I admire her for her ability but not for her voice. I look at people like the sugababes and feel sick. I look at local talent (yes you guys at players and all of you who I champion) and could cry that you aren’t seen. Talent. That’s the key. Someone asked me what music I like and I asked a friend how the hell do I answer that. He said its simple in your case, if you didn’t write it yourself, play it yourself or sing it yourself I am not interested. Talent. Its what it always comes back to, like a fat kid to cupcakes and like a dog to a bone. Talent. This is why I cant stand Mick Jagger. He has the ‘it’ factor but the bloke cant sing. Rod Stewart another shining example of a man with ‘something’ but not talent.
Music is a mixture, for me it charts progress and memories. Today for example in a quest for artists I have been playing on my iTunes and also on youtube.
David Grey, flipped me right back to an apartment in London, sitting on a yellow sofa waiting for my then boyfriend to come home from work on my first night visiting him. Makes me happy (even though he was a douche) because it was a beautiful day, and a great glass of wine and I was super happy.
Train, drops of Jupiter, takes me back to being one of the first people to ever play them on the radio in the UAE, sat in a studio, earphones on, overlooking the back of Sheikh zayed road at one of my first ever evening shows, feeling nervous and happy to be a radio DJ at last.
Rob Thomas : 3am, I was 17. I had just met my first real love and I used to play this and it drove him insane, reminds me of laughing at him in one of our rare moments outside of his restaurant.
Toto – Rosanna – Smokey bar, wooden floors, short hair and my first taste of live band music and this song takes me to the night my mum requested this. My boyfriend played it and she loved him almost as much as me that night. My mum had her 2 best friends with her and we laughed and danced and laughed and danced. Awesome memory.
Oasis – Champagne Supernova – Amie Gibbons house, her bedroom, getting ready to begin one of our many many adventures. We listened to it religiously and although I am not the biggest Oasis fan this song transports me back to being a happy teenager with my best friend. There is a lot of music that takes me back to Amie, nirvana puts me in a maroon blazer standing in our form lines listening to on shared ear plugs. Its raining men takes me to a hilarious drunken night in a bar called strawberry moon, the list goes on.
Robbie Williams, Jesus in a camper van, directly to Nathalie Cockaynes old apartment, do not pass go and do not collect 200 dhs. Weirdly hearing him doesn’t take me to the concert, it takes me to her flat, Vodka and cranberry juice and hoi sin chicken pizzas.
This is my point, you don’t have a lot of control over what music does to you. It can move you in a million ways, your feet, your voice, your heart.
It can make people laugh, cry, fall in love, fight. Its magic, it should be treat as such.
It’s a multibillion dollar industry. Don’t become part of the wheel. Love whatever moves you, regardless of what it is. Don’t be afraid of music and don’t be afraid of what people may think. Try new things, listen to others ideas of ‘great’ before you dismiss it, you never know you just might make a discovery. I did, I hated Jazz all my life until I sat on a cold stone floor, tired and grumpy in the middle of New Orleans in order to ‘humour’ my man. I will be eternally grateful that I did. He gave me a gift that night that is very precious, a memory, and some of the best music I have ever heard played, he reminded me to push my limits and because of that a whole host of music takes me right back to him and what he taught me about music, at the age of 25 when I thought I couldn’t learn anymore.
My Father is still learning and listening and my Mum is still not caring (her pan pipes CD is testament to this) and my brother is still trying to get me to love Oasis. Keep pushing, keep exploring, but always remain true to the memories, they like to be visited now and again.
