Once upon a time in
the relatively recent past, they made a movie in which you not only
had to believe that Gwyneth Paltrow was Huey Lewis's, naïve,
angelic, virginal, Las Vegas Showgirl daughter, but that Huey himself
made his living as a karaoke hustler. That's right, a karaoke
hustler. I don't think that's ever been a real thing but I would like
it to be. Duets
is a movie with many faults, but Paul Giamatti's performance
remains the single greatest portrayal of midlife crisis/breakdown
ever. Michael Douglas in Falling Down and
Kevin Spacey in American Beauty are
hailed as
benchmarks, but they lack the heart. They lack that spark of crazy
that Giamatti brings to 'popping out for some cigarettes', and
neither of them ever made me
cry singing
'Try a Little Tenderness'.
The
sheer joy of singing at full volume to a room full of strangers
cannot really be represented
in a batshit crazy movie that represents Karaoke as a viable career
option, but it does a good job. Music soothes even the savage beast,
supposedly, and has an unreasonable effect on our moods. I maintain
that anybody can sing, given enough time and practice. Certainly well
enough to sing in a choir, do karaoke
or impress their friends.
The trouble begins when
easily-impressed friends
suggest
that those of average ability
should do
it professionally. It does,
admittedly, lead to the only
bits of X-Factor worth
watching, but also to some of
the most excruciating pub bands I have ever had the misfortune to
watch (and occasionally find myself depping for). Luckily I'm too
polite to tell those who are willing to pay me money for my musical
services that my dog's angry requests
for a walk are more tuneful then them.
This is how you sound to me
when you sing
Stop it
Singing
is not black magic, but you need to spend a hell
of a lot of time doing it
with no sense of dignity or
shame in order to be able to
hold your own. If you hold
back for fear of being laughed at, you will suck; if you give a shit
what other people think of your voice, you will suck; if you are not
using every single part of your being to project the very
essence of the song out
into the world, then you will
suck. Even if you are doing all of this, you will probably still suck
– join a choir or an
am-dram group instead, there
is strength in numbers. I
have, at best, an average voice, but ever since I
was twelve and every band I put
together failed to find a singer, I have been resigned to having to
do it. Having grown up
singing in both
church and school choirs (once
at a big posh do in Exeter Cathedral, and once on the telly),
I was the default
best-of-a-bad-lot choice for frontman.
I
was about sixteen, a little drunk at a family party and singing
AC/DC's Crabsody in Blue when I received the review that
gave me hope. My big sister
turned round to me and said, 'shit, that was actually quite good.' It
has stuck with me forever, and any time I am worried that I might not
be able to pull a gig off, I remember. My sister is not one for unnecessary compliments (she also once mistook
a Led Zeppelin record for me practising, I took
her shout of 'Turn your fucking guitar down!' as high praise).
I
seem to give less fucks as the years go by
Sorry
I couldn't find any pictures of me in the choir
It's
no different from learning any other instrument. I gave up piano
lessons when I was about 8, and took up guitar a few years later. I
spent every minute I could between the ages of 11 and 20-something
with a guitar in my hand, playing, playing and playing it some more
and am now good enough to
play without really thinking about it.
Whereas, I am currently re-learning how to play the
piano
properly and it is hard going thinking
about the mechanics of what my hands are doing and what notes I want
to play. Because I am old
now, and it is less
intuitive. In the same way,
those singers I am lucky enough to work with that have been singing
in front of bands for as long as they can remember are – for
the most part – fucking heavenly. Whilst those who hit mid-life
crisis and decided to give it a punt because
they always wanted to try it
are – at best – pretty
good, you know, considering, etc etc.
Like most things, if you leave it too late, you will never be great.
Just accept it.
I
am unreasonably critical of other singers, because I cannot
understand how, if a song is inside your range (mine is incredibly
limited – but I know what notes I can and can't hit) and you've got
an instrument to pitch to, you can still manage to not be in tune. I
understand that years of angry choir masters rapping my knuckles with
rulers refined my tuning, as has the last more than thirty years of
singing in public, and that my knackered right ear is now a permanent
monitor allowing me to hear my own voice in my head above everything
else. And that I lack empathy for others. Maybe somewhere in there is
the difference between the fan/karaoke/choir singer and someone with
the brass cojones to stand at the front and tell the rest of the band
what to do?
You Have To Earn The Fucking
Cape
Pay Your Dues
