Birth of a Song

There are over a billion scraps of paper, hiding in various corners, under couch cushions, in drawers and jeans pockets, showing in plain sight on dresser tops, change bowls and dash boards. These various little notes may contain a prophetic lyric that could change your world, or they could stay crumpled forever; these are the poetic scraps that we song-writers collect over the course of our life-times. "You never knows" just sitting there, folded waiting for the perfect melody.

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Who knows if some of these notes will ever be read again, or used. How many notebooks can one person have anyway? There are notebooks in every corner of my house, and scraps of paper with dreams and ideas in most of the bags I own,  perhaps they are there for when lyrics come no more. Maybe the act of writing, is in and of itself the only point. To use or not to use, might not be the question at all, but rather to write to write and to write some more.

In times of technology, like today, an Iphone is very handy, when the combination of pen, paper and or napkin can not be found. Again, my notes section is filled to the brim with lyrical sentiments, and the recording device has at least a hundred started musical ideas. Some days when I am on a train to the next performance I just listen to the songs, erasing ones that have no real effect on me. So many ideas deleted without another moment of thought. On the rare occasion that I find something that I deem true and worthy, I will sit with it and my guitar and work it out. Mostly though, I sit with my guitar and a brand new song is born. from scratch, with no help from torn up pieces of paper or half ideas kept hidden in a tiny machine.

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One of the most common of questions for a song-writer is "What comes first, the melody or the lyrics?" or "How do you write a song?" Most would agree that when a song comes, it usually comes in one long whoosh, from a magical place unknown. To be sure, there is no absolute way to compose a piece of music, there is no perfect equation that will work every time. Some songs come in moments, and some take hours, months even, to "complete." I put complete in quotes because every song can be changed up a bit. Perhaps one time you start out with the first verse, sometimes it feels better to start out with the Chorus. One band will add a catchy keyboard riff in the middle 8 (or bridge)  and another might replace the keys with mandolin, changing the sound entirely. Of course we song-writer's do have certain styles, but again nothing is 100%, so where I usually add a bridge (or middle 8) in a song, I do not always find the perfect spot for one. And that is okay.

Some years ago, I had the rarity of meeting Bono of the band "U2" in Ireland, at a hotel in the middle of nowhere, where he was attending a friends wedding. We talked about music, I had only just written and recorded my very first song and conveniently had it with me, to share. He was very kind and gave me a moment of his time and a few words of advice (which I had asked for.) One thing that always stuck with me was that the bridge of a song should stand out apart from the song and that it should actually be the best part of the song, even better than the chorus. So yeah, I really like to add one, but I always have his words in the back of my mind. If I can not find something extra-ordinary, I will not add one at all. 

Which brings me to my next point... Co-Writing a song can also be an amazing experience. I highly recommend getting out there and finding someone to write with. Two heads are better then one in most cases, so if the opportunity comes up to do this, I encourage you to do it! Brock Zeman and I wrote this song "Ships" together and it could be the most universally liked song that I have ever performed. It was a great writing session with Brock and way easier than I had ever thought it would be.

We lost a troubadour singer & song-writer on the weekend, Ron Hynes from Newfoundland, Canada. He was also called "Man of a Thousand Songs." And what a writer indeed. I remember playing on the same stage as Ron, at The Newfoundland Folk Festival, as part of a song-writers circle...I mean how lucky could a girl be, sharing a stage with a legend like himself. It was sad news for many people out there, who have all lived lives to the soundtrack of Ron's music. Most would know him for "Sonny's Dream." It had been months since I wrote a full song, some might say writer's block, but I am not so sure... In any case, I will leave you all with my new song, a tribute to Ron. "The Likes of You." Ron, I thank you.

Sadness, Still

Slow  internet, cranky keyboards, uploads not uploading, late buses, canceled planes, burnt toast. Smashed coffee mugs, empty milk jugs, broken chairs, wonky blinds, burnt out light bulbs. Dying plants in the window, sulphur water. Upstairs neighbours loud music, a never-ending search for keys. Losing something. Laundry piles, no clean clothes, a misplaced favourite scarf. Tardiness, broken finger nails, stubbed toe. Broken window, dead flowers. One single mosquito buzzing around your head late at night. Mouse droppings under your kitchen sink. Irritable, sleepy toddler. Expired coupon.  Worn tires. Deluded daydreams, misunderstanding telephone company representative, slow grocery lines. Dysfunctional ATM machine. Damaged coffee machine, empty coffee container. Busted window, leaky roof. Out-dated counter tops, obsolete Iphone. Ripped jacket, faded curtains.  Dirty floors, shattered mirror.

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A house no longer. No bed to sleep in. An empty fridge, no more electricity. No blankets, no shoes, no jacket, freezing cold, heavy heart, empty heart, abandoned. Homelessness. Wasted innocence. Child soldier. No more time, imminent explosion. Stolen dreams, sabotaged certainty. Soulless. Defecation filled water source, deaf ears, closed.  Slumped shoulders, sad eyes, hope no more. Hate-filled, harbouring anger, enraged hallucinations,  plummeting self. Fear mongers. Destroyed life, destruction. Rape. Mother Earth in ruins. Plastic-filled Oceans, dying whales. Abused animals, starvation. Unresponsive human, murdered daughters.

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One simple kiss. A bowl of fruit. Dancing hand in hand. Singing under the stars. Wind in your hair, open windows. Acceptance, unconditional Love. A quiet mind, courageous will. Tenacious soul.  Carrying love, giving love, reveling in love. Water fall, forest floor. The sound of a birds wing whooshing above you. A canoe's paddle striking through water. The crackle of a campfire. Smell of fresh bread baking, the taste of fresh bread and melted butter. Butterflies. Heart beating. Candlelight, wood stove, hot tea. Smiling eyes, laughter pains. A full belly. Marshmallow Bed. Spontaneity. Full flavour, perfectly seasoned. An old friend. A new friend. Unbreakable trust. Wholeheartedness. Faith, belief, fate, coincidence, Love. A seashore, a mandolin. A violin. Finger picking, gardening. Plants, tomatoes. Sunflowers, sun dog. The feeling of a warm embrace, the feeling of a warm summers breeze, that feeling of jumping into a cool river on a hot day. The scent of Autumn leaves. The sound of crickets, of tree frogs. Drum and bass. Authenticity, rawness, dirt-in-fingernails.Sweat. Full-filled desires. Comfort, ice cream. Colour, lakes, crescent moon. Birdsong. A hammock. Newborn toes. The scent of a rose bush. Positive vibrations. A mountain view. Sawdust. Cedar. Surround sound stereo. Serendipity.

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Love, 

Lindsay

Ta-Ta Thirties!!

Were you scared of turning over into the BIG FOUR OH? How did you feel leaving your thirties? Perhaps you are reading this and are nowhere near either age and probably even think that forty is old! Once upon a time, I thought forty was old. But now that I am days away from leaving my thirties forever, I realize I am still me and feel, inside, ageless. I see lines appearing on my face and other various parts of my body, lines that were never there before, and to me, they are just there and nothing more than expressions of life continuing to live.

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A decade of living in my thirties has taught me a a lot. From that first night, celebrated in Wakefield, Quebec at Kaffe 1870, (one of the sweetest little pubs in the world) I sang my heart out on that little stage and we made a right 'ole night of it. That night was the catapult into my song-writing adventures as a committed musician. I was moving away from Wakefield to live my life as the Singer I was meant to be. I'd dabbled in music for years before that but by the time I hit thirty, I was ready to take it on, full time. It was my first year as a professional in the industry...I would go on to write enough songs to record my very first full length record "Sound."   I had the whole world at my fingertips and I still do. WE still do. Anything is possible.

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Forty seemed so far away. How could I ever be ready for such an elephantine age? But somehow, I will ease into it with grace and I am ready. Life is like that, you don't even know it, but it is preparing us, every second for whatever comes our way. If only I knew then what I know now, so many moments of worry and fear would have been non-existent. It IS true, life after thirty changes, something shifts inside and room for wisdom is made. Some things we wish we could UN learn, but the steadfast beat of the ever-thumping time drum keeps on keeping on.

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The wheel just doesn't stop so there is no point in fighting it. One thing for sure that I have learned over the course of my life, is that it only gets better. At one point I feared getting older. Now I know that you don't get older, you get wiser! Sure, I mentioned the collection of lines, earlier, but really we just collect knowledge. I Love that. Certainly we don't always use our new-found wisdom, and would rather disregard some things (we are human and occasionally need to drink MORE water on a Sunday morning! When will we ever learn?)  I suppose the biggest lessons I learned from my thirties had to with Self. Self Love. Self acceptance. Self awareness. Self respect. Perhaps it sounds Self ISH, but we are only given one life and we have to live with ourselves for the rest of it. I wanted to impart some of the insights I found while living through this last decade, but these words from Herman Hesse sum it up quite nicely.

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So, there it is. The next time I write, I will be Forty years and counting. Today, right this second I am the youngest I will ever be and the oldest I have ever been.

Love.

A Musical Dream

When I start to write I need a soundtrack. We all know that music guides us, somehow, whether in it's ability to conjure up memories or in it's might in stirring our emotions. Think about the time you were listening to the radio in the car and suddenly Alphaville's "Forever Young" came on. Recently I heard it and there I was, right back at Summer Camp, I could almost smell the campfire. Maybe that song does nothing for you, but I am sure there are songs that can take you back, instantly, to a spot in your life, somewhere far away. I find listening to music, while I write, brings more soul into the things I ramble on about. Today's choice is a new record that I picked up while in Ottawa, at Compact Music. Thanks Ian Boyd for keeping an old fashioned record store ALIVE!!! (consequently you can get my new record there too! Ha!) 

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José Gonzalez first came into my life one Summer at The Ottawa Bluesfest more than a few years back. I was astounded at the amount in the crowd on a Saturday afternoon, all of whom were singing along to this Solo Singer-Songwriter from Sweden. I was sold within the first two bars of his first song, and mesmerized by him for the rest of his show. I now own a few of his records. His music guides me at the moment, have a listen to this song and tell me it doesn't move you somehow! Introducing "Let It Carry You" just one of the great tunes from his newest record "Vestiges and Claws."  

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Music moves, music inspires. More and more this has become evident to me, as I try to find meaning in a fast-paced-almost-soulless music "industry." In the past years I have spent so much time worrying about things that are not in my power to control, things that have no bearing to the music which comes out of me. And really, the music itself is the most important part. I have been told once and again that all I need to do is write the "right" song and get my music played on the radio. These two bits of advice are pretty smart. The ins and outs of HOW to do it, now therein lies the problem, but the one thing I can do, is to keep trying for that ONE SONG. Batten down the hatches and write, and then write some more, to my own soundtrack.

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For a long time, I thought I was creating the music for you. As I get older and wiser, it isn't something that I need to do for you, but rather, I need to do it for me. It used to be that I needed your affection, approval, validation etc but now I know that all I need to feel fulfilled is to keep on making music, in all it's shades and colour. It's the music itself!  I want your support, I like it. It helps me in many ways, not the least it just makes me feel good inside. Does it ever feel awesome when I see your beautiful eyes looking at me with Love in them, after you have felt something from my music. Wow. What a rush indeed! But the rush that comes from the musical dreaming that I am attached to, that tops it all. So I guess I just have to remember my gift when I am searching for "likes" on social media. Ha! If only that riddle was easily solved. So, go on, like this post eh? Share this post, eh?? The conundrum of being a musician on several social platforms in need of support while trying to demystify it all and be at peace with the gift itself. 

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My Uncle once told me that all I needed to do (at the very least!) was one thing every day towards my music career. Then at the end of the year, at the very least, those things would tally up to three hundred and sixty five 'somethings' that I did to get my  musical self out there.  So, today I write a bit about who I am, what kinds of things I think about, how music helps, what music I enjoy.. and I put myself out there.

Thanks for reading,

Love Lindsay