Thursday, 25 February 2016

I got my Mojo working (sometimes)


Photo by Hugh Taylor.
 Blackie's mojo is obviously working. 


You know those days your musical Mojo isn't working.

You can't remember a song you're trying to, your fingers fumble on the piano keys, you're temporarily stumped on a guitar riff you've known for years.

Maybe you try singing in the shower and a croak comes out instead?
Brass players get cold sores, guitarists nails break or fingers get hurt.
Every musician has had bad days, for so many reasons.

Or maybe, just for an example you understand, you're invited onstage with a band to sing backing vocals for one song. One tiny song, no big deal, no pressure, just backing vocals, easy peasy.
You're not too hot on your feet, (bit like me there as well) and find yourself just making it to the mic, in time to open your mouth and Sing; 'Got my mojo workin' straight back at the singer.

Everyone knows it,... easy,.... just do it.

My mojo was not working, my mojo had no idea what notes to sing, my mojo had upped and gone. Infact my mojo was behaving like the tragic character in a blues song. It had 'gone left me' 'out the back door' and 'down that lonesome railroad track'.

I sang something a bit like the right notes, but far too tentatively. And a bit right isn't what you want. Effortless perfection would be preferable. 

And so, there I was, listening through the verse with  the chorus on it's inevitable way again, Oh, how can I not know what to sing?  I've known it for many years.
There's  6 notes, in fact less than that, there's repeats. Only 6 syllables,
 Maybe my head wasn't in singing place, I had been audience up to 5 minutes ago, but really, now I felt so silly on that stage. Backing singing gives you too much thinking time at the best of times.  

So, as the singer finished his line, I took a big breath, opened my mouth, let my mind go blank and sang it, as it should be. 

I moved off the mic, and the bass player laughed, 'Got your Mojo Workin then? ' he asked.






Sunday, 14 February 2016

Collaborative Songwriting

So here I am a blogging again, after losing my old blog. 
It makes me a little sad, but there are good things about starting afresh. 

My intention is to post weekly, but it's hard to keep up those intentions. 
This time I'm really going to try. 

I started my working life as a student nurse, but increasing disability led me to leave that dream, and I moved into youth work, community education and health education. 

Eventually a 9 to 5 job became impossible. I could not envisage not working at all, so thought about what I loved in life and what I could do. it seemed music was the answer. 

I gained a grade 8 in piano and an OU Diploma in music to help me on my way, and for many years now music has been my life. 


I have written on my own for a long time, also written from poetry, (and am best known for my arrangements of Hugh MacDiarmid's early Scots poetry, from which the album 'Moonstruck' came.) 

I've been writing for longer than I care to think. I've written for bands, choirs theatre,  film, youth groups, mental health projects and for people with learning difficulties. I also arrange music. 

I've also written in conjunction with youth groups, mental health groups, individual poets and other writers as well as band members. 

In these collaborative ventures I've mostly been on the musical side, fitting the words to music, or helping others to do that. 

In the past there has been a commision for The Olympic Games, where the ideas came from community groups and the 'Giants in the Forest' project. 
Writing for theatre has involved short musical clips and whole songs, trying to get the feel of Ancient Greek music, but with comedy and modern sensibilities in mind. I've also written for a dance film, using the dancers movements to inspire my composition.

I trained in songwriting with the wonderful professor Nigel Osborne, a creative genius and worth a google, while working on the Burns and Rivers project as part of Burnsong. Though I had written for years his teachings were insightful, enjoyable and so musical. 


Working with other people's words:

The first and most important thing for me is that  I must like the words, be moved or touched by them and if they are to be used in a song format, they need to have some sort of pattern, (or be able to be made to do so). 

This is different from music written to accompany spoken word where there is not so much need for strict (ish) metre and structure. 

However , it is sometimes the quirks in the rhythm that give me musical ideas. 

In collaboration with (living) poets, (the dead ones can't complain) I try to understand the poem, it's meanning, the textures, the subtext and set it with compassion and love. I cannot write well if I do not really care about the written words. 

You might notice I haven't called the song  words 'lyrics' here. In setting and singing  a poem, the words remain just that, a poem. 

In the poem 'Betty Corrigall' by Betty Tindall, I was able to keep her verse pattern which had a strong song-like rhythm very easily. With MacDiarmid's children's poem 'Bubblyjock' this was much more difficult, but it still lent itself to  themusic, just not as easily. Words had to come in before or after the bar, in slightly unexpected places. 

I find setting other people's work incredibly interesting, but scary. However, using my own words is even more so, though I do enjoy it. 

Writing words for other people's music

The other possibility is using my words with someone else's music, which often happens in jamming situations or occasionally with musician Chris Lord who will come up with a riff and/or tune. 
The song 'Alice' which can be heard on  www.facebook.com/sisterfox is a result of this sort of collaboration. 

Some of the other songs mentioned here can be found on my soundcloud www.soundcloud/nicolablack1