tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29133575799605733672024-03-13T15:04:04.487-04:00followthatsongpaul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.comBlogger54125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-18981628064515172072012-05-08T14:17:00.001-04:002012-05-08T14:17:36.257-04:00Surrender Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eoOqTj1LOIw/T6lZf58kjvI/AAAAAAAAAK0/a6q_-V1qlzo/s1600/stockvault-dark-road124011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eoOqTj1LOIw/T6lZf58kjvI/AAAAAAAAAK0/a6q_-V1qlzo/s320/stockvault-dark-road124011.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<em>singing birds on the street, and all is well,</em><br />
<em>storm's coming up to fill it</em><br />
<em>sky is white, the colour of hope,</em><br />
<em>the colour of surrender</em><br />
<em>surrender, love, surrender</em><br />
<em>-</em><br />
<em>have a drink with the lads, and lasses fair</em><br />
<em>we'll toast you with the last</em><br />
<em>stood here like lines of a song</em><br />
<em>lined up to surrender</em><br />
<em>surrender, love, surrender</em><br />
<em>-</em><br />
<em>hold on to all you need</em><br />
<em>and all that you know</em><br />
<em>i'll hold on to you, and then</em><br />
<em>we let go</em><br />
<em>-</em><br />
<em>now the rain's on the ground, the road's aglow</em><br />
<em>footlights on a stage</em><br />
<em>curtain falls, then curtain calls</em><br />
<em>calling for surrender</em><br />
<em>surrender, love, surrender</em><br />
<em>-</em><br />
<em>hold on to all you know</em><br />
<em>and all that you need</em><br />
<em>i'll hold on to you, and then</em><br />
<em>we - </em><br />
<em>surrender, love, surrender</em><br />
<em>-</em><br />
<em>-</em><br />
<br />
yesterday was a good day. i got some stuff done. worked on the new songs, tweaking words and trying to memorize. then i got an email offerring a wee gig from the folks at Mariposa, chuffed that they thought of me. life is good.<br />
<br />
i was standing on the porch, where i often get inspiration, listening to the birds' beautiful "there's a storm coming" racket.<br />
<br />
sure enough, the first line came to me, and i had the verse in a few minutes.<br />
<br />
the rolling waltz rhythm felt really good, like a drinking song. so the second verse had to start with "have a drink.." this verse has proved the most difficult to finish, which is often the way - the first verse comes easily, but with it i impose the form on the remaining verses. it's harder to fit words to a structure than to have the words create it.<br />
<br />
i thought about making it a verse-only song, as the fifth-line "tag" acts as something of a mini-chorus, but decide it needed a bridge, to add interest.<br />
<br />
the bridge felt good, but after i wrote the last verse, i wanted to repeat it, so it became a chorus. typical for me, though, i changed it - sorry, folks, i know you like the repetition, but it's not really a sing-alongable refrain.<br />
<br />
i switched the need/know lines to give me a rhyme for the one-word last line, "we - " which hangs there for a moment before i wrap with the tag line. feels good.paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-349200636628213312012-03-08T20:17:00.002-05:002012-03-08T20:59:34.584-05:00You and I<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-palBbJZ62F4/T1ljwMGaUZI/AAAAAAAAAKs/XaP1xcNNQL0/s1600/012%2B-%2BCopy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 380px; height: 400px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717710881456542098" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-palBbJZ62F4/T1ljwMGaUZI/AAAAAAAAAKs/XaP1xcNNQL0/s400/012%2B-%2BCopy.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OOoD07GWhFA/T1laR3SUZqI/AAAAAAAAAKg/p-qCwehES1o/s1600/001.JPG"></a><br /><div><em>you and i, we started out all right</em></div><div><em>clearer heads prevailed in the light</em></div><div><em>it's taken years to figure all this out</em></div><div><em>for you to come and layer it with doubt</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>when you crawled out of the sea</em></div><div><em>not much more than possibility</em></div><div><em>to blinding light and burning sand</em></div><div><em>a world for you to understand</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div>(refrain) <em>please hear me out / it can't wait</em></div><div><em>the way i see it, we might be too late</em></div><div><em>please help me out / don't do me in</em></div><div><em>everyone will lose out in the end</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>you left a mark everywhere you walked</em></div><div><em>a pile of bones, horses carved in chalk</em></div><div><em>you used me at every step</em></div><div><em>with a willingness to forget</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>then brother moon hit you on the head</em></div><div><em>you became aware of what you did</em></div><div><em>pulling tides, pushing seas</em></div><div><em>do you remember what you used to be?</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>please hear me out / it can't wait</em></div><div><em>the way i see it, we might be too late</em></div><div><em>please help me out / don't do me in</em></div><div><em>everyone will lose out in the end</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div>this is the latest co-write with my Dotted Lines bandmate Aaron Howes. as usual, it's his music, and this time he had the first verse and the refrain. which was very good, because this lyric would never have been written by me on my own.</div><div>-</div><div>if i had to put him in a box, i might say that Aaron is, among many other cool things, a left-leaning, right-thinking vegetarian environmentalist, with a whole lot of integrity, and, thank god, a sense of humour. he spends quite a bit of time thinking about these things, and doing what he can to improve our world. so it's quite natural that he start a song about it, with a Neil Young sort of sound.</div><div>-</div><div>and i didn't have much trouble getting the gist and finishing three verses. Aaron has already been performing it solo, and we've talked about how to make it work with the band. i think i will probably do it on my own as well.</div><div>-</div><div>which is a bonus, as i would never have written it on my own. there are so many well-intentioned topical/political/protest songs out there that make me squirm at their earnestness and indignation - i don't even think about attempting it. but, with a little help, i think this one is both pithy and palatable.</div><div>-</div><div>thanks Aaron!</div><div> </div></div>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-46356836070214273442012-02-27T21:27:00.003-05:002012-02-28T08:01:36.288-05:00Sirens<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mKQKN3sFE1g/T0w7qKZmMSI/AAAAAAAAAKU/-HvbRCk2vL8/s1600/017.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; height: 299px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714007622758576418" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mKQKN3sFE1g/T0w7qKZmMSI/AAAAAAAAAKU/-HvbRCk2vL8/s400/017.JPG" /></a><em>i met her on the docks</em><br /><em>all that bread on the water</em><br /><em>she looked like a mermaid's daughter</em><br /><em>and the sirens went off </em><br /><em>and a storm came up</em><br /><em>but we stayed on the rail</em><br /><em>and now that ship has sailed. sailed.</em><br /><em>-</em><br /><em>we lived at the beach</em><br /><em>all that metal in the sand</em><br /><em>got so hot, we couldn't stand it</em><br /><em>prices went up</em><br /><em>i got laid off</em><br /><em>we'd share a pint of ale</em><br /><em>and now that ship has sailed. sailed.</em><br /><em>-</em><br /><em>we moved down the coast</em><br /><em>all those lights behind us</em><br /><em>where the shadows find us</em><br /><em>and the fog came down</em><br /><em>and it killed the sound</em><br /><em>of lovers on the rails</em><br /><em>and now that ship has sailed</em><br /><em>-</em><br /><em>i watched her drift away</em><br /><em>all that blue horizon</em><br /><em>her setting sun, for me is rising</em><br /><em>and the water's sound</em><br /><em>ebbing down:</em><br /><em>"you failed, you failed"</em><br /><em>now that ship has sailed. sailed.</em><br />-<br />-<br />and that, folks, is all he wrote. nine songs in 27 days. the challenge was 14 in 29. but that ship sailed days ago.<br />-<br />i jinxed myself when i only had one left to write for the album, thinking and writing that it would be over soon. what i hadn't considered was why this particular song was being written last - ie. i hadn't come up with an idea for it.<br />-<br />the missing number was a response to Fred's song "Ship": "Lord, if you could find me a place to land, / My ship needs to come in". how brilliant is that?<br />-<br />the harder i tried to come up with something, the more i realized that i was exhausted from the first eight. so i quit trying and gave myself a rest.<br />-<br />and it worked, by gum - my ship came in. i wrote this tonight in about seventy minutes, with Eaglesmith's voice in my head. my Fredhead.<br />-<br />thank you Fred Eaglesmith. thank you Susan F., who kicked me off.<br />-<br />and thanks to you few beauties for joining me on the ride. i can't wait to play them for you.<br /><br /><br /><br /><p><em></em> </p>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-88277932775025248922012-02-16T21:15:00.005-05:002012-02-17T09:18:38.603-05:00Moon and Sun<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LfIBDW7kfMg/Tz24_c6Op9I/AAAAAAAAAKI/WwBCAm16rtk/s1600/IMG_1352.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 300px; height: 400px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709923302807349202" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LfIBDW7kfMg/Tz24_c6Op9I/AAAAAAAAAKI/WwBCAm16rtk/s400/IMG_1352.JPG" /></a><br /><div><em>the moon used to fool us</em></div><div><em>and we still say</em> <em>it "shines"</em></div><div><em>when we know it's reflecting</em></div><div><em>the sun beyond the pines</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>and it's the same for me</em></div><div><em>people think i'm fine</em></div><div><em>sometimes i'm the only one who knows</em></div><div><em>it's because you're mine</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div>(refrain) <em>i'm the moon to your sun</em></div><div><em>mirror to your light</em></div><div><em>you are the dawn at the end of my night</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>the world throws a shadow</em></div><div><em>at the ever-changing moon</em></div><div><em>hard to know at night</em></div><div><em>the sun is coming soon</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>and it's the same for me</em></div><div><em>dark before the dawn</em></div><div><em>sometimes i'm the only one who knows</em></div><div><em>the dark side you are on</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div>(refrain)</div><div>-</div><div>(coda) <em>and the stars we can share</em></div><div><em>there's thousands of you out there</em></div><div><em>sister stars</em></div><div><em>everywhere</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div>(refrain)</div><div>-</div><div>-</div><div>i wrote this song in a couple of hours tonight, after taking a break for two days. all i did was let the image roll around in my head, without writing anything down.</div><div>-</div><div>it's a response to Fred's "Tunnel": "she lights the light at the end of the tunnel". Eaglesmith is a master at putting a spin on well-known phrases and images to make them fresh and interesting. it's something i strive for myself.</div><div>-</div><div>i needed to find another metaphor to say a similar thing, so i stole an idea from another great Canadian writer, Lynn Miles. her song is "I'm the Moon": "You're the sun, I'm the moon".</div><div>-</div><div>Deb and i have always loved this song, and it's one of very few we play together. it has a rolling drum beat that Deb kills on the cajon. and it suits our personalities - if you can't guess, i'm the moon - the one with a dark side, and a shiny one, thanks to the sun. Deb is the positive one, who shines her light on my darkness.</div><div>-</div><div>when i got two verses and the refrain, and was wondering how or whether i should continue - another verse? bridge and verse? - i found it a bit black-and-white. so i added some grey by changing the last line of verse two to suggest that she, like everyone, also has a dark side, while helping me to dispel mine.</div><div>-</div><div>then an idea for a coda to add something universal to the personal, ie. women, "sister stars", who shine on their respective planets and moons.</div><div>-</div><div>-</div><div>there are ten songs on "Dusty". i've now written eight for the current project, and i had previously written another, "Ridin' the Fences", as a direct response to the album. so i only need one more. it will be interesting to see whether i continue with FAWM towards 14 total for February, once i write a response to the tenth, "Ship", which is another common metaphor, turned beautifully by Mr. Eaglesmith. perhaps i shouldn't be counting chickens - "my ship needs to come in".</div><div> </div><div> </div>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-19620976572198771742012-02-13T16:46:00.009-05:002012-02-13T17:44:46.776-05:00400 NORTH<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R_1WPzecB24/TzmIHUvX0YI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/ZfUQzBii_h8/s1600/062.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708743662076678530" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R_1WPzecB24/TzmIHUvX0YI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/ZfUQzBii_h8/s400/062.JPG" /></a><em>four hundred dances, it felt like tonight</em><div><div><div><em>we just couldn't stop</em></div><div><em>they were playin' our favourites, start to end</em></div><div><em>we yelled "turn it up!"</em></div><div>-</div><div>(refrain) <em>but silence is good, and what's under the hood</em></div><div><em>will get us over this hilltop dome</em></div><div><em>and a river of light falls into sight</em></div><div><em>here we are, half-way home</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>i swear there's four hundred pickups, haulin' Skidoos</em></div><div><em>lookin' for the snow</em></div><div><em>who knows why they love that noise</em></div><div><em>but i could tell you what i know</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div>(refrain)</div><div>-</div><div><em>of the four hundred things i could say in this darkness</em></div><div><em>to move you, north with me</em></div><div><em>"i love you" would be the first and the last,</em></div><div><em>and a few times in between</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div>(refrain)</div><div>-</div><div>(coda) <em>it's less than an hour now</em></div><div><em>you just close your eyes</em></div><div><em>i will wake you for</em></div><div><em>the next river of light</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div>there are random times when Deb and i have the same thought, and there is a particular place where we <em>always</em> do. it's on the 400 freeway north, where, over the crest of a hill, you can see a ribbon of headlights snaking down the curving hill in the southbound lanes, and the thought we share is "and the river of cars / they fall like stars / down the I-75". killer line from the song named after the interstate.</div><div>-</div><div>one small thing that bothers me about Fred Eaglesmith is that his geographical images, and inspiration, i suppose, are almost all American - on this album, it's Texas, the I-75, Wichita, Oklahoma. his music is quite correctly called "Americana".</div><div>-</div><div>this song is an hommage to our favourite cut on "Dusty" - my lyric could be sung to Fred's melody, fairly easily. but i make it personal, and hopeful, and drag it into central Ontario.</div><div>i wanted to change "river of cars" to "ribbon of light", but Deb lobbied successfully to stick with "river".</div><div>-</div><div>that killer line is a great example of rule-breaking behaviour, the outcome of which is stronger and better than what he might have come up with by following the picky standards some of us like to set for ourselves: 1. the grammar is questionable, ie. singular "river", plural "cars", plural verb form even 'though it's "river <em>of</em> cars"; and 2. he piles a simile on top of a metaphor in the same line.</div><div>-</div><div>it's brilliant. but i doubt there's any planning involved - i think Fred just doesn't care much for conventions. he writes a lot of songs - a friend of his quotes him as saying "i write fifteen songs before breakfast" - and performs and records the ones that work.</div><div>-</div><div>so that's song number seven, less than half-way through the month. "Here we are, half-way home."</div><div> </div></div></div>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-34432767191563303002012-02-09T22:05:00.005-05:002012-02-09T22:30:09.168-05:00LOOKIN' FOR RAINBOWS<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mDR9On9c4gY/TzSKXk_DtvI/AAAAAAAAAJM/evZqwOTEAhY/s1600/057.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; height: 299px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707338765455046386" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mDR9On9c4gY/TzSKXk_DtvI/AAAAAAAAAJM/evZqwOTEAhY/s400/057.JPG" /></a><br /><div><em>what are you supposed to do, when there's nothing to be done</em></div><div><em>even the shadows are a gift from the sun</em></div><div><em>it ain't rained in a while, but the crops are fine</em></div><div><em>plenty of fish in the creek</em></div><div><em>and the best one on the line</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>(refrain) don't go lookin' for rainbows</em></div><div><em>you've already got the gold</em></div><div><em>don't go tellin' stories you already know</em></div><div><em>don't dream of another, it'll leave you cold</em></div><div><em>don't go lookin' for rainbows</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>what are you supposed to say, when you think you've said it all</em></div><div><em>say it again, and again you'll fall</em></div><div><em>tell her you're glad she got hold of you</em></div><div><em>this time on the phone, and the first time too</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>refrain</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>(coda)here's what you're supposed to do:</em></div><div><em>find the one who's good for you</em> </div><div><em>say it right and make it true</em></div><div><em>and </em><em>don't go lookin' for rainbows</em><br />-</div><div>-</div><div>i know, it's not great. i took a day off to help some friends, and i lost the groove.</div><div>-</div><div>that's my excuse, anyway. i'm writing with enough confidence to expect that what i'll end up with is good, so when it's not, well...</div><div>-</div><div>i knew that Fred's "Rainbows" would be a difficult song to start from, but i was keen to do it, once again, against the grain. i've stolen the first lines of each verse, but my larceny goes way deeper. i'm using some of his phrasing style, and definitely bits of melody - all these things add up to the "feel". i want to steal that feel.</div><div> </div><div>"feel" wasn't enough on this one. it might get changed for the better after i've played it a bunch of times.</div>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-18295038152637793502012-02-07T18:57:00.005-05:002012-02-07T19:22:26.497-05:00Hey Darlin'<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MaZiuW3Xrj8/TzG7EaN0d8I/AAAAAAAAAI0/G0CvYy01SAs/s1600/P1010472.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; height: 299px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706547887286286274" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MaZiuW3Xrj8/TzG7EaN0d8I/AAAAAAAAAI0/G0CvYy01SAs/s400/P1010472.JPG" /></a><br /><div><em>hey, hey darlin'</em></div><div><em>the wind from Santa Ana</em></div><div><em>is blowing through my ears</em></div><div><em>and messin' with my mind</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>hey, hey darlin'</em></div><div><em>it moves that dress you're wearin'</em></div><div><em>and wild shining hair</em></div><div><em>it looks like you're still tryin'</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>(refrain) hey, hey darlin' / do you wonder i'm confused?</em></div><div><em>today you're all seduction / Last night i was feelin' used</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>hey, hey darlin'</em></div><div><em>those boots might be walkin'</em></div><div><em>but they looks so good</em></div><div><em>underneath my bed</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>hey, hey darlin'</em></div><div><em>to stay don't mean a long time</em></div><div><em>i feel like i've done mine</em></div><div><em>here inside my head</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>(refrain)</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>hey, hey darlin'</em></div><div><em>the wind from Santa Ana</em></div><div><em>is blowing you away</em></div><div><em>right out of my mind</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>hey, hey darlin'</em></div><div><em>that dress you're wearin'</em></div><div><em>looks better from the back</em></div><div><em>and you're not even tryin'</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>(refrain)</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div> </div><div>ooh that was fun. to write something that is transparently a rip-off is very freeing.</div><div>"Hey Baby" is Fred's forlorn, sexy account of the end of love. i built the whole feel of my song by stealing his line "that dress you're wearin".</div><div>-</div><div>once again, i chose to change it mostly with the male character, while still lost because of love, at least realizing he is better off out of it.</div><div>-</div><div>it feels like something i will love to sing. once i learn it.</div>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-37844113443498398972012-02-05T23:55:00.003-05:002012-02-06T00:33:09.627-05:00Beast and Brother<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lnBnO3qONCA/Ty9dr86y3EI/AAAAAAAAAIo/v27W0G_CcFc/s1600/016.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; height: 299px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705882262570196034" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lnBnO3qONCA/Ty9dr86y3EI/AAAAAAAAAIo/v27W0G_CcFc/s400/016.JPG" /></a><br /><div><em>there is a noble beast / a feast for the sporting eye</em></div><div><em>we give him his release / never say "die"</em></div><div><em>yes, there is blood to spill / but it could be ours</em></div><div><em>in this clash of will / Art versus Power</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>(refrain) beast and brother / in the stands, a lonely girl</em></div><div><em>we love, we kill the other</em></div><div><em>'round goes the world</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>and in the second act / played in the hot red dirt</em></div><div><em>you try to follow that / someone gets hurt</em></div><div><em>yield to the younger man / the man of peace</em></div><div><em>let him find his own / release</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>beast and brother / </em>and still <em>a lonely girl</em></div><div><em>we love, we kill the other</em></div><div><em>'round goes the world</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>and the noble beast / no longer waits</em></div><div><em>we give him his release / and a gate</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>beast and brother / </em>there stands<em> a lonely girl</em></div><div><em>we love, we kill the other</em></div><div><em>'round goes the world</em></div><div><em>'round goes the world</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div>-</div><div>are we having fun yet? holy moley. i'm having a blast, learning about the way i write and trying things i normally wouldn't, while i mine for ideas to write multiple varying songs.</div><div>-</div><div>this one is an indirect response to the last song on Dusty, "Carne del Toro", a tour de force of Spanish/American rhythm and melody under a killer metaphor.</div><div>-</div><div>as i listen daily or so to Fred's album, and live with the images, i find myself looking for ways to lighten the emotional load. this one changes voice in the middle to turn things around and instill some optimism, misplaced 'though it may be. the omnipresent Old Guy (matador/Hemingway) has the first word, his conscience the next, the naive young man the last.</div><div>-</div><div>as for doing what i normally wouldn't - i'm trying to remember if i've ever done this before - the last refrain is a different melody, simple and brooding, but somehow ending the song with a cool spaghetti western vibe. or something.</div><div>-</div><div>im looking forward to March, when i can relax and look(/listen) back on these songs.</div>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-58277604767894240452012-02-04T21:14:00.002-05:002012-02-04T21:42:02.958-05:00I See You in Crowds<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DhB3yB2FHBw/Ty3mkkDLA3I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jj52fDgYx_Y/s1600/DSC_0201.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; height: 266px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705469818774946674" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DhB3yB2FHBw/Ty3mkkDLA3I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jj52fDgYx_Y/s400/DSC_0201.JPG" /></a><em>i'm counting on a friend of a friend</em><br /><em>to get word to you and back / that since the end</em><br /><em>i found a crack / in my resolve to forget</em><br /><em>-</em><br /><em>i'm hoping you will be glad</em><br /><em>that i remember / what we had - fire in December</em><br /><em>and not a thought to regret</em><br /><em>-</em><br /><em>(refrain) i see you in crowds / the music is loud</em><br /><em>two deep at the bar</em><br /><em>i hate to think / that's you sharing a drink</em><br /><em>in a booth, in the back, in the dark</em><br /><em>-</em><br /><em>i'm wondering what i might say</em><br /><em>if i get the chance / i'm not ready today</em><br /><em>to ask you to dance</em><br /><em>i never did - how could i start?</em><br /><em>-</em><br /><em>believing my own fantasy</em><br /><em>stronger than doubt / even in me</em><br /><em>you made it out </em><br /><em>with half of my heart</em><br /><em>-</em><br /><em>i see you in crowds / it's always the same</em><br /><em>get a strange look when i call out your name</em><br /><em>i hate to think of us sharing a drink</em><br /><em>in a booth, in the back, in the dark</em><br />-<br />-<br />that's all i want to say, really.<br />ok if you don't know Fred's song "Crowds", you should. it's the classic obsessed lost love song, true work of art.<br />-<br />Fred's character's obesession is that he still looks for his lost love in crowds. my character <em>sees</em> his there.<br />-<br />and it made it somehow easier that the song is so perfect - the bar is set so high that there is no longer a bar.<br />-<br />the song is very short - about two minutes flat. i considered a bridge in the middle, but the two parts, before and after, are balanced and need no exposition.<br />-<br />plus - the month is young, i'm sure i'll need something in reserve at some point. this project is a marathon - my songwriting is usually a sprint.<br />-paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-18164872520273359412012-02-04T10:25:00.004-05:002012-02-04T11:06:19.719-05:00Still Dusty<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sSJrLohTGlE/Ty1OfNqAbkI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/PNm4g0Jmqo0/s1600/hat%2B004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705302601097047618" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sSJrLohTGlE/Ty1OfNqAbkI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/PNm4g0Jmqo0/s400/hat%2B004.JPG" /></a><br /><div>DUSTY by Fred Eaglesmith</div><div>Across the mesa, the daylight shines</div><div>in your eyes, and it makes you blind</div><div>And in your head, sirens wail</div><div>They just let you out of jail</div><div>-</div><div>-(refrain) You're just dusty now / There's flies on you</div><div>Your guns are rusty / and your soul is too</div><div>The Texas is wearin' off of your leather boots</div><div>You're just dusty / There's flies on you</div><div>-</div><div>There's tobacco inside your cuffs</div><div>and you drink too much</div><div>but it's never enough</div><div>People stare at you</div><div>as you stand and cough</div><div>Might be the weather / Might be the dust</div><div>-refrain</div><div>-</div><div>(bridge) Rain, rain, rain, in a western sky</div><div>Teardrops in your heart and gravel in your eye</div><div>-refrain</div><div> -</div><div>the project is "songs inspired by the Fred Eaglesmith album 'Dusty'", but i thought the title song should be more of a direct response and tribute. "Still Dusty" was the project's working title, but i had a fair idea from the start that the title song would relate more literally to its forbear. i changed the perspective to the first person, and with the phrase "I'm still dusty", realized it could be in waltz time, rather than the original 4/4.</div><div>-</div><div>i started jamming on lyrical ideas, with that 3/4 rhythm, and soon came up with three ideas for verse, bridge and refrain. looking at those, it seemed they might be too different to fit together. but i trusted that they were coming from the same place of inspiration, and settled in to bring some sense to the disparity.</div><div>-</div><div>the song fits a familiar pattern for me, where i start with an image that may get a laugh before the audience realizes it's a sad song. c'est la guerre.</div><div>-</div><div>-</div><div><em>STILL DUSTY</em></div><div><em>i was reading the Peanuts, wondering "which one am i,</em></div><div><em>Linus or Charlie Brown, philosopher or clown,</em></div><div><em>dark or daylight?"</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>-(refrain) I'm still dusty / It's what it must be</em></div><div><em>I'd never be free / if it weren't for the dust</em></div><div><em>My guns are rusty / it isn't just me</em></div><div><em>I'd shoot me something / if it weren't for the dust</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>Now, sitting ain't easy / when you've walked the world 'round</em></div><div><em>Canyons and hillsides, / alone or by her side,</em></div><div><em>Upsides and downs</em></div><div><em>-(refrain)</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>-(bridge) She was the nurse, when i banged up my knee</em></div><div><em>in that bang-up rodeo i did for free</em></div><div><em>she said "fool, that's no kind of deal"</em></div><div><em>i said it's better to feel</em></div><div><em>something</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em>She kept calling me "fool" 'til the day that she died</em></div><div><em>I guess i'm Charlie Brown. I miss her even now</em></div><div><em>in dark or daylight</em></div><div><em>-(refrain)</em></div><div> -</div><div>Well, that's song two, early on February 4th. i'm beginning to think this idea might not be so crazy after all. i have no idea what the next song will be. first plan is to listen to Fred's album this morning, and get whacked upside the head with a phrase or idea. so far, it's working...</div><div> </div>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-27754280693146312452012-02-02T09:58:00.008-05:002012-02-04T11:09:35.996-05:00Songwritingly Challenged<div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rz3wW9rVTv4/TyqrMSwQ7oI/AAAAAAAAAIE/ONs75cbWQIA/s1600/P1010257.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704560105699208834" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rz3wW9rVTv4/TyqrMSwQ7oI/AAAAAAAAAIE/ONs75cbWQIA/s400/P1010257.JPG" /></a><br /><div>Happy Groundhog Day!</div><div>Wiarton Willie predicts an early spring. so are we skipping winter?</div><div>i was walking home from work the other night, with a few things in my head. my friend Susan had alerted me to a crazy idea: February Album Writing Month. that's right - the challenge is to write fourteen songs in twenty-eight days.</div><div>-</div><div>i was also thinking, as i always am, that i need to find an idea for a new songwriting project.</div><div>i also had a topical phrase in my head which i thought might become a song: "There hasn't been a winter yet".</div><div>-</div><div>that day we had snow, something we haven't seen much of so far. i got home and shovelled the drive, with the new song growing in my head. when i entered the house, Deb had a cd on - Fred Eaglesmith's "Dusty", one of my very favourite albums. and hers: "I love it because it's about old guys".</div><div>Ka-Ching! the world conspires to bring these things together: my new project would be "Still Dusty", an album of songs inspired by my love for Fred's album.</div><div>-</div><div> </div><div>so i'm right on track - one song, two days - for how long, no one knows.</div><div>-</div><div> </div><div><em>I'll Be Ready</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div><em>There hasn't been a winter yet / the pattern is on hold</em></div><div><em>I'm doing what i can / i will until i'm cold</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div><em>There hasn't been a winter yet / i don't feel it coming on</em></div><div><em>The evening wind is empty / but it pulls another dawn</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div>refrain: <em>When winter comes, i'll be ready</em></div><div><em> When temperatures are low, and steady</em></div><div><em> Life goes underground</em></div><div><em> Snow contains the sound</em></div><div><em> When silence comes around, i'll be ready</em></div><div><em>-</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div><em>There hasn't been a winter yet / the ponies are getting soft</em></div><div><em>The old wolf can't hide / when they go running off</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div><em>There hasn't been a winter yet / the trails ain't open</em></div><div><em>Thin ice on the lake / begging to be broken</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div>refrain</div><div>-</div><div><em></em> </div><div><em>There hasn't been a winter yet / but time does not stand still</em></div><div><em>It marches on 'til March is gone / and the sun hits the hills</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div><em>There hasn't been a winter yet / i'm watching from the porch</em></div><div><em>The creeping south will soon engage / the armies of the north</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div>refrain</div><div>-</div><div><em></em> </div><div><em>There hasn't been a winter yet / we're suspended in fall</em></div><div><em>The colour-scented season / beneath it all</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div><em>There hasn't been a winter yet / that didn't end in spring</em></div><div><em>Cemetery flowers / you won't have to bring</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div>refrain</div><div> </div><div><em></em> </div><div><em></em> </div><div> </div></div>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-83572110699679192382011-07-20T12:49:00.007-04:002011-07-21T12:15:09.264-04:00living a dream<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z4S-7G0AVLQ/TicI3u87sdI/AAAAAAAAAHE/6NWmh5cJiWg/s1600/stencil.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 389px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631479612639523282" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z4S-7G0AVLQ/TicI3u87sdI/AAAAAAAAAHE/6NWmh5cJiWg/s400/stencil.jpg" /></a><br /><br />dear Terra,<br /><br /><br /><div>excuse the absence, once again, but i've been busy, living the dream and then recovering from it.</div><br /><br /><div>being hired to play at this year's Mariposa Folk Festival has sent me through the gamut of emotions, from elation to anxiety, fear to excitement, happiness to exhaustion. </div><br /><br /><div>it turned out to be a wonderful weekend. i wasn't scheduled to play 'til sunday, so the first two days were relaxed and fun. the family was reunited, and good times were had at the ArtsU tent - the first time we've had such a visible presence on site.</div><br /><br /><div>sunday came and Sue Charters and i did our first outdoor presentation of the <em>Blood and Fire</em> show, a first also for the shortened version, <em>The Donnelly Primer</em>. not a huge crowd, but it went very well. my brother and sister-in-law and their musical son drove up to catch it for the first time, and there was a great back-and-forth with audience members afterward.</div><br /><br /><div>i was relieved to have gotten through the first show successfully, and i found myself surprisingly relaxed leading up to the big one, hosting a workshop in the pub with a veteran folkie and a new friend, a young songwriter accompanied by his fiddling companion.</div><br /><br /><div>i introduced myself to the veteran outside the pub tent, and then to the fiddler, who i asked to join us on stage. the veteran seemed unsure of things, never having heard of us. but we set up, me vowing to install electronics in my old Larrivee, as the sound crew, working a new and unfamiliar hi-tech board, were unable to cut the feedback from the instrument mic. i tried to pretend i was playing a twangy twelve-string with brand new strings and way too many overtones. it kind of sounded like that.</div><br /><br /><div>i asked the pro to start us off, which seemed to surprise her. i had tried some funny shtick to lighten things up, for myself as well as everyone else - stripped off and changed my shirt and publicly denied that we were the pro's latest folk supergroup. i guess she thought i was going to play the first one myself - in my view a workshop faux pas, and a thing i vowed i would never do.</div><br /><br /><div>it was magical. we went around three times and i got to close with <em>Emmylou On the Radio</em>, just as i had planned, or at least hoped. the audience was enthusiastic, and the veteran congratulated me on my job of hosting and told me that it was her favourite set of the weekend.</div><br /><br /><div>talked with my brother and a few folks outside, and then my wife and Suse-my-muse, who fed me with a fresh view of how i had done. i realized that what i was feeling mostly was relief, that i hadn't taken in just how special a moment it had been. Deb and Susan can do that for me, better than anyone.</div><br /><br /><div>so we celebrated the rest of the day, with a decent cheque in my pocket and a bit of cash from cd sales. that night i found myself avoiding bed, not wanting my day of days to be over.</div><br /><br /><div>i was surprised how back-to-normal everything was over the next week. it didn't match the high i was still feeling, the dream continuing into waking.</div><br /><br /><div>so yesterday, having the house to myself, i set out to write a song. all i had were the first three words and a stolen melody for them. so i went out to the tent (our dining/party shelter, the shady place to be on a hot day) with my guitar and notebook, and started with the three words and notes<em>, Come On, Dreams</em>.</div><br /><br /><div><em>come on, dreams, i want to fly tonight</em></div><br /><div><em>come on, dreams - damsels to save.</em></div><br /><div><em>they're all around, i hear them calling,</em></div><br /><div><em>and i'm feeling brave</em></div><br /><br /><div><em>i've been having these daylight dreams</em></div><br /><div><em>how could life be as good as it seems?</em></div><br /><div><em>i don't want to change a thing</em></div><br /><div><em>now, about these damsels...</em></div><br /><br /><div><em>refrain</em></div><br /><br /><div><em>i dared to dream, some nights</em></div><br /><div><em>of a creature i would ride</em></div><br /><div><em>a Spanish butterfly</em></div><br /><div><em>in search of damsels...</em></div><br /><br /><div><em>refrain</em></div><br />(bridge:)<br /><br /><br /><div><em>the creature has a name</em></div><br /><div><em>my head is turned, and turning gray</em></div><br /><div><em>who will save this day?</em></div><br /><div><em>my damsels.</em></div><br /><br /><div><em>such a shock, when dreams come true</em></div><br /><div><em>you become a bigger "you"</em></div><br /><div><em>now i'm painting what i drew</em></div><br /><div><em>bring on those damsels...</em></div><br /><br /><div><em>come on, dreams.</em></div><br /><br /><div>the damsels don't need saving, of course, but they're more fun than windmills. they are Deb and Suse and Alyssa and Jen and Carol and Lori and Wendy and Susan and Diane and Sue and the list goes on.</div><br /><br /><div>the <em>creature</em> is referenced by a rhyme with <em>name</em>, ie. "fame", as in "don't let it turn your head".</div><br /><div>and <em>Spanish </em>for<em> butterfly</em> would be "mariposa".</div><br /><br /><div>so in the bridge, the song gets turned on its head, and the damsels save me. as always.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-87096487310299374092011-06-01T12:49:00.001-04:002011-06-01T13:49:39.450-04:00inspiration i could live without<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r5ftcCpZ19g/TeZuwzu1MfI/AAAAAAAAAG4/vnhNwpbp69Q/s1600/DSC_0234.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 376px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613295770363310578" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r5ftcCpZ19g/TeZuwzu1MfI/AAAAAAAAAG4/vnhNwpbp69Q/s400/DSC_0234.JPG" /></a> Terra, David. David, Terra.<br /><br />i've just written my second song for this joyous bastard, and wish i'd never felt the need to write either. the first was "The Question", after David's wife Heidi died a few years ago. it became part of our "Tiny Rehearsals" project, dubbed by some as "a few ditties about death". he was in the front row for the single show we did, and the picture above was taken the same night. he's the most lovable goofball.<br /><br />the new one is called "While You Were Gone", about our experience the last three weeks while David was in an induced coma after a horrendous motorcycle accident.<br /><br />the good news is that he's awake again, and healing, slow and sure. his fiance, the strong and wondrous Julie, has been at his bedside throughout and kept us updated. in the meantime, thousands of friends and strangers across the continent have been praying for him in their way.<br /><br />what would it be like to miss three weeks of your life, only to wake up in pain and confusion? i don't really know. but i wanted somehow to let him know what it was like for us, while he was gone.<br /><br /><em>while you were gone, i took up my pen and i</em><br /><em>laid it all out, that you'd rise again</em><br /><em>i sent out a message, like thousands of others</em><br /><em>women who love you, and all of your brothers</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>while you were gone, the earth went on spinning</em><br /><em>like wheels beneath you. the day was beginning.</em><br /><em>i bet you were laughing, a moment before</em><br /><em>silence defeated the motor roar</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>while you were gone, angels would dance on the</em><br /><em>head of a pin, if given the chance</em><br /><em>so we gave it to them. we danced too,</em><br /><em>on pins and on needles. we danced for you</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>while you were gone, the moon didn't spin</em><br /><em>it started out dark, and lit up again</em><br /><em>it looked like hope, and a little like you</em><br /><em>grey and white, from black and blue</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>while you were gone, hearts were afire,</em><br /><em>aching with owning a single desire</em><br /><em>a vision to hold us: an arm on a shoulder</em><br /><em>we're walking ahead. we're getting older</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>while you were gone, the earth went on spinning</em><br /><em>like wheels beneath you. the day was beginning.</em><br /><em>i bet you were laughing - </em><br /><br /><br />i would have been quite content in other circumstances to have never written these songs, but, reality being what it is, i'm glad i could find a way to write them. they started in a place that was so full of emotion, i needed time and distance to be able to turn the passion into craft.<br /><br />and simply DOING something was a balm to my feelings of helplessness.<br /><br />cheerslove<br /><em>paul</em>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-66067567462031696572011-05-13T15:16:00.004-04:002011-05-13T15:50:48.497-04:00Between the CoversDear Terra,<br /><br />i've been learning a couple of themed cover songs for a benefit gig tonight, and it hasn't been easy trying to memorize the words. it has occurred to me that it's because i've been writing and playing my own songs for so long, hardly ever playing covers.<br /><br />when i try to sing someone else's words, i want to replace them with my own, sing it the way i would say it, phrase by phrase.<br /><br />i'm trying to remember what it was like, when i wasn't writing, playing other folks' songs i loved and had to learn because i couldn't get them out of my head otherwise. i appreciated each turn of phrase, wishing i could come up with something so poetic, so perfect.<br /><br />and then i could. and now i find it hard to internalize someone else's song. because that's the way i used to do it. many of my friends and contemporaries choose to change a song, find some way to make it their own, in their way. i always played covers as closely as possible to the original, ie. the song i loved.<br /><br />it's been an interesting exercise, in any case. and i'm glad i've partly figured out why it's been as hard as it has - much better than assuming i've lost some capacity in my middle years.<br /><br />tomorrow i will go back to playing my own songs, with a better appreciation of what having written them means to me.<br /><br />cheerslove<br /><br />paulpaul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-10952567876566900722011-05-03T21:00:00.003-04:002011-05-03T21:20:06.903-04:00Life is Short. Make Music<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DM2xm_g84_c/TcCl23YRD0I/AAAAAAAAAGw/w6UEIocpbSQ/s1600/DSC_0204.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 133px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602660298446147394" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DM2xm_g84_c/TcCl23YRD0I/AAAAAAAAAGw/w6UEIocpbSQ/s200/DSC_0204.JPG" /></a> Dear Terra,<br /><br />Larry was one of my heroes in high school. he was a year or two older, and very cool - elected chairman of the dance committee, lead singer in a R&B band - with matching suits.<br /><br />i hadn't seen him since, nor heard anything about his life. we became Facebook friends around this time last year, when plans were hatched for a 60s & 70s high school reunion. i was hoping to see him there, but he didn't make it.<br /><br />turns out he had had some terrible health problems, and lost both of his legs. i've just watched a video of him on his 60th, and last, birthday, singing "Stormy Monday", accompanied by an amazing trio of friends. it was beautiful.<br /><br />i'm turning 60 next year.<br /><br />go gently, Lar.<br /><br />cheerslove<br /><br /><em>paul</em>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-89662573294013728842011-05-02T20:09:00.006-04:002011-05-02T20:40:18.865-04:00A Project becomes a Primer<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3qmBMz9YZrw/Tb9MAYnvRII/AAAAAAAAAGo/4Yk7XkotTA8/s1600/014%2B-%2BCopy%2B%25282%2529.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 314px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602280030965023874" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3qmBMz9YZrw/Tb9MAYnvRII/AAAAAAAAAGo/4Yk7XkotTA8/s320/014%2B-%2BCopy%2B%25282%2529.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QOLb14ELh6k/Tb9L3JXfP5I/AAAAAAAAAGg/rlyNyusZ2Ao/s1600/011%2B-%2BCopy.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 269px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602279872251510674" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QOLb14ELh6k/Tb9L3JXfP5I/AAAAAAAAAGg/rlyNyusZ2Ao/s320/011%2B-%2BCopy.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 495px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 255px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602275742099655778" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G4fccAkxvzA/Tb9IGvWjTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D9Zl51YdbEw/s400/006%2B-%2BCopy.JPG" /><br /><br /><div>Dear Terra,</div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div>not the best day to have my picture taken, having awakened with a bad case of stomach cramps, but we needed to get these done and sent off to Mariposa.</div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div>Sue came over to rehearse the shortened version of Blood and Fire: The Donnelly Project, which we have renamed "A Donnelly Primer". Deb took the pictures in front of our house, which dates back to almost the rig<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rZOqov0bS3Q/Tb9KWeefIiI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/jJs9o3FSrrE/s1600/011%2B-%2BCopy.JPG"></a>ht period.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Mariposa have been announcing their line-up in bits and pieces for a while now, so i'm hoping that ours is coming, just so i'm sure i haven't been dreaming.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>whenever we get hired for a big show, we like to perform it in front of a smaller audience first. even more necessary this time, since the shorter stage time (75 minutes, no intermission) means a very different show. this time it will be on a sunday afternoon in Barrie, in early June. so plenty of time to shine it up beforehand and to get the kinks out after.</div><br /><div><br />cheerslove</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><em>paul</em><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div></div></div>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-52479433408878913352011-05-01T21:14:00.002-04:002011-05-01T21:44:13.893-04:00The Creative Imperative<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hH1IQK7pz38/Tb4FuJ4PQpI/AAAAAAAAAGA/xNOWzRHiAqM/s1600/ARTSlogoCOLOUR%2B-%2BCopy.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 208px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601921276979397266" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hH1IQK7pz38/Tb4FuJ4PQpI/AAAAAAAAAGA/xNOWzRHiAqM/s400/ARTSlogoCOLOUR%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" /></a> Dear Terra,<br /><br />today i heard about 30 seconds of a CBC radio piece from Venezuela. the person they were speaking with was talking about each person having "a creative imperative" to do their best to make his/her life a work of art.<br /><br />art is made every day. it can be astonishing, beautiful, monstrous in content or proportion, but the people who create it are the same species as those who don't, or think they don't.<br /><br />i get a lot of props for writing, performing and promoting music. but i often find myself setting people straight when they congratulate me on my "talent" and claim that they could never do anything of the sort.<br /><br />i do art because i love it, and i've been doing it long enough, and working at it hard enough, that i'm getting pretty good at it. and i love to spread the word, letting folks know what a joy it is, encouraging everyone to try a little, or devote their entire lives to creating bold new things.<br /><br />we all have the ability to bring more beauty into the world. paint your house with four colours instead of two. plant flowers. sing harmony. put your niece's drawing in a frame. look at the world through a camera lens. design what you knit. make a video of the song your friend wrote. start a literary salon at the used book store. be enthusiastic. admire art. congratulate the artist, not on her talent but on her work.<br /><br />cheerslove,<br /><br /><em>paul</em>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-15265665619975259592011-04-30T22:27:00.004-04:002011-04-30T23:13:44.708-04:00Many call me "Morgan's Dad"<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pyTGKoa7vuI/TbzFgH-QV1I/AAAAAAAAAF4/MuBzBx0p2tU/s1600/DSC_0272.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 266px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601569192228706130" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pyTGKoa7vuI/TbzFgH-QV1I/AAAAAAAAAF4/MuBzBx0p2tU/s400/DSC_0272.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>Dear Terra,</div><br /><br /><div>speaking of working with young musicians...</div><br /><br /><div>last night was the Orillia Folk Society's monthly Fridayfolk concert, featuring a great double bill of Maria Dunn and John Wort Hannam. they were wonderful, of course, but another highlight for me was the opening act, a young woman from town, accompanied by her dad, with whom i have played numerous times at our weekly song circle.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>i got more than a little nostalgic to see Laura and Peter on the same stage that i had shared with my beautiful daughter Morgan, about a decade and a half ago.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>we were called "Morgansdad", because in those first several years in town, that is how i was known by the greatest number of Orillians. Morgan is the outgoing one in the family. the name was a bit tongue-in-cheek, but i never minded playing second fiddle to the bright light that is our firstborn. if i was Morgan's dad, i had to be pretty cool.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>she has always loved music, and had been taking recorder lessons for years, and later took some piano. i don't remember whose idea it was to put together an act - i probably talked her into singing at Don's Coffeehouse in Hillsdale, waybackwhen, and then an opening gig at Fridayfolk and shared gigs around town. it didn't last long before she thought maybe it wasn't the coolest thing she could be doing.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>she sang songs by Jewel (who also started out in a duo with her dad) and Alannis Morissette. she played recorder on my version of The Lady of Shallott. i can't remember if we did any of my songs. but i remember how good, how proud it made me feel, and what a joy it was. at one point last night, Peter suggested to the parents in the room, that if they ever got a chance to play music with their offspring, they should definitely do it.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>hear, hear!</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>it was sad when Morgansdad was no more. but four or five years later, when she was sixteen, i did another Fridayfolk opener, with Morgan in the audience, and played this song for the first time: </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><em>NOT MY GIRL</em></div><br /><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><br /><div><em>you're growing older, my girl - so much so that you're not my girl anymore</em></div><br /><br /><div><em>your heart's in a whirl, you can't wait to find what's behind that door,</em></div><br /><br /><div><em>what's the final score</em></div><br /><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><br /><div><em>sweet sixteen's a myth, the world has carved on you a crooked smile</em></div><br /><br /><div><em>without me or with, you have had your very own style</em></div><br /><br /><div><em>for quite a while</em></div><br /><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><br /><div><em>you are your own woman now</em></div><br /><br /><div><em>i don't know when it happened, but somehow</em></div><br /><br /><div><em>you are your own woman now</em></div><br /><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><br /><div><em>now i lie here awake, listening for the turn of your key</em></div><br /><br /><div><em>just for my own sake. you could not be anything but free, from me</em></div><br /><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><br /><div><em>you are your own woman now...</em></div><br /><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><br /><div><em>you used to sing with your dad, in a duo, just like Jewel</em></div><br /><br /><div><em>i'd give everything i have for you to know life is anything but cruel.</em></div><br /><br /><div><em>now go to school.</em></div><br /><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><br /><div><em>even though you are your own woman now...</em></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>she came up from the audience, tears on her face, and gave me a hug, to the delight of all, but especially me.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>so now it's ten years later, she lives two hours away and still hasn't returned to the stage. but she acquired a guitar, i show her stuff when we get the chance, and we talk music. alot.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>and we will always have that golden fleeting moment when we were a duo and we made people smile.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>cheerslove</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><em>paul</em></div>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-21463862843875735252011-04-29T16:21:00.003-04:002011-04-29T16:49:43.805-04:00I'm Only In It for the Art<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pGH0RiQOzQY/Tbseqd0-QNI/AAAAAAAAAFw/homPub3XHzc/s1600/ARTSlogoCOLOUR%2B-%2BCopy.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 208px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601104276475494610" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pGH0RiQOzQY/Tbseqd0-QNI/AAAAAAAAAFw/homPub3XHzc/s400/ARTSlogoCOLOUR%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" /></a> Dear Terra,<br />isn't this a wonderful piece of graphic art? it was done by our friend Kim Campbell, and i'll be wearing it with pride on the black tee shirt i ordered last night.<br /><br />artsU is an annual community-based event which takes place in the few days before the Mariposa Folk Festival in July. Mariposa and Orillia's Lakehead University are joint sponsors.<br /><br />i've been involved since its inception, along with an incredible group of old and new friends, who have worked thousands of volunteer hours to help promote local artists and to spread the joy of making art.<br /><br />this year i will be teaching two classes, one on basic guitar theory and the other on improving one's songwriting. also offerred will be classes in photography, painting, watercolour, printmaking, puppetry, movement, singing, instrumental improvisation, and home recording.<br /><br />something for everyone. classes are inexpensive and open to all levels of skill and experience.<br /><br />we are hoping to be more of a presence this year at the Festival itself, as we will have a tent in a prominent spot where we will hang out, talk art, and show off what the students came up with in our classes.<br /><br />hope you can join us.<br /><br />cheerslove<br /><br /><em>paul</em>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-47710862344445039722011-04-28T13:55:00.003-04:002011-04-28T14:59:35.664-04:00Having Someone Else's Idea<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xQxOM4md5nc/Tbmqn6kpBRI/AAAAAAAAAFo/RlUN6yMvCyE/s1600/014.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600695214326482194" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xQxOM4md5nc/Tbmqn6kpBRI/AAAAAAAAAFo/RlUN6yMvCyE/s400/014.JPG" /></a> Dear Terra,<br />i wrote a couple of days ago about the dangerous Cult of Originality, and how i refuse to drink from that particular juice cup.<br /><br />so when Mike Hill, head of the Artistic committee of the Mariposa Folk Festival, asked me for ideas of workshops i might like to be involved in, i suggested "Songwriters Under the Influence".<br /><br />hopefully, volunteers for such a workshop would be those who readily admit being inspired and influenced by the songs of other writers. each performer would play a cover tune, immediately followed by a song they wrote as a (direct or indirect) result.<br /><br />i sent Mike a couple of examples of what i might use myself:<br /><br />1. "Gold in Them Hills" by Ron Sexsmith, followed by "Hang the Jury", the first of ten songs i would write about the Donnellys for my show "Blood and Fire".<br /><br />Ron's song is one of my favourites of all time, and i was learning how to play it at the same time i had the idea of responding to Steve Earle's diatribe in song, "Justice in Ontario". Earle's basic premise was "Sure, Jim Donnelly was no angel, but he didn't deserve to die". my idea of responding was to write a song from the perspective of a juror in the first trial of the head of the vigilantes, which resulted in a hung jury - not a surprising result, when you consider the consequences of being persecuted by the vigilantes or the surviving Donnellys, had they come to agree on either conviction or acquittal.<br /><br />"Gold in Them Hills" is a piano song, but i was working on it as a finger-picked guitar piece, and the first few simple notes of the intro/tag were solidly in my head - "d c b g a b g a b". so when i came up with the juror's first powerful line of song, "I did what I had to...", the melody was almost the same - "b d c b a b". a different melody suggested itself for the rest of the verse: "I've a wife and a family. The White Boys could slaughter us, like they did the Donnellys. The jury was hung - we couldn't decide/On truth and justice, and suicide", but it was Ron's music that inspired it all, and i'm very grateful to him.<br /><br />2. "Dusty" or "Codeine" from Fred Eaglesmith's album "Dusty", followed by my "Ridin' the Fences".<br /><br />i love Fred's music, but especially this album, which i learned in its entirety and covered often at our local song circle. so it was a great compliment when i played "Ridin' the Fences" one Monday night, someone asked who wrote it, and my good friend Jennifer said "Fred Eaglesmith".<br /><br />the album is a masterpiece of Americana - Fred is very much a Canadian, but his images are usually evocative of places south of 49. "Dusty" and "Codeine" are stories of sad old cowboys. the character i assume in "Ridin' the Fences" is a younger version, but sad in his own way:<br /><br /><em>i'm talkin' to horses / there's no one around</em><br /><em>only my voice / but i like the sound</em><br /><em>like she never did / she'd cover her ears</em><br /><em>i had her in town / now i got me out here</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>i'm ridin' the fences / i mend what i can</em><br /><em>i stay on the far side / to feel like a man</em><br /><em>the sun does some damage, and so does the rain</em><br /><em>but the wind is the worst, and it gets in your brain</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>i'm singin' an old song, from i don't know when</em><br /><em>and sometime tomorrow, i'll sing it again</em><br /><em>unless there's a new one takin' its place</em><br /><em>i had a woman / now i got me some space</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>i'm ridin' the fences...</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>i'm makin' the turn, headed for home</em><br /><em>wherever that is, i don't even know</em><br /><em>my favourite saloon / i'll be drowning the thought</em><br /><em>that i had a woman / now i got me a bottle</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>i'm ridin' the fences...</em><br /><br /><br />the song has proven to be one of my very favourites to play. it helps that my wife <em>loves</em> cowboys, and would <em>be</em> one if given the choice in another life. in the back of my head, there's an idea for a project of cowboy songs for Deb. and we would owe it all to Fred.<br /><br />cheerslove,<br /><em>paul</em>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-56409989932908305522011-04-27T10:48:00.002-04:002011-04-27T11:32:29.362-04:00Mariposa's Young Songwriters<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3_A1XfZXgoU/TbgtjqOWFgI/AAAAAAAAAFg/U7BD1Ei9NpI/s1600/012%2B-%2BCopy%2B%25282%2529.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 287px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600276227288339970" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3_A1XfZXgoU/TbgtjqOWFgI/AAAAAAAAAFg/U7BD1Ei9NpI/s320/012%2B-%2BCopy%2B%25282%2529.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div>Dear Terra,</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>i mentioned yesterday that i would have to start hanging out with a younger crowd, i.e. one who wouldn't mind the way i "borrow" material from other writing, notably songs.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>thing is, i've already done so. my good friend Aaron, pictured here, who not long ago was being mentored himself, has become a mentor to some brilliant young songwriters in Orillia. and he is speeding up the generational thing even more, by having these young folks teach songwriting at an upcoming event at the Leacock house.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>so he asked me to design a workshop, using the four writers and myself to teach the basics and to lead writing exercises. when i sat down to do so, i was somewhat at a loss. i had team-taught in the past, but only with good friends whose writing styles and strengths were well known to me. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>i prepared as well as i could, going over my material and possible exercises to use, but with very little idea how it would look in the end. as it turned out, i needn't have worried. the training session proceeded in much the same fashion as our writing - organically. as different as our approaches to writing may seem, this was a common thread: none of us write with a plan. we start with something we find interesting, and we grow it from there.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Aaron (different Aaron) realized it might be worthwhile for him to start with a lyrical idea, rather than picking up the guitar every time. so i suggested he lead "The Spider Game", where you start with an evocative word or phrase, circle it, draw "legs" from it, each with another word or phrase related to the first, and the same outward from each of those.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Tyler's advice to beginning writers related to the middle of the process: "if it's not working, try something else!" so we decided to exaggerate the idea. he will bring a well-know song to play, and the group will be asked to suggest new lyrics which would give the song an entirely different meaning. i hope this will open folks' minds to new possibilities- eg. a happy song can be written in a minor key; a sad song can have some rhythm to it.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Hayley starts with a musical idea, and when she starts writing lyrics, typically gets bogged down when a well-known phrase ("ships passing in the night") suggests itself and takes over. so i suggested she lead an exercise in "cliche-busting", ie. finding your own creative way to say the same thing without using trite, overused phrases. Aaron (the first) even gave an example where he alluded to a cliche <em>through</em> <em>rhyme</em>: "between the clock and your face" ("a rock and a hard place"). brilliant.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Chris is an amazing guitarist who writes tunes, not songs. how best to use him seemed like it would be the hardest part of all, but not so. it's very hard in these group sessions to do much work on <em>music</em>, strange as that may seem. but this was our opportunity - Chris would help each participant come up with a melodic idea for an essential phrase they had gleaned from Aaron's or Hayley's exercises.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>i think it's going to be great.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>cheerslove</div><br /><div><em>paul</em></div><br /><div></div>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-63274118005683377652011-04-26T15:55:00.001-04:002011-04-26T16:50:29.150-04:00The Cult of Originality<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UliSDZSdYwU/TbcjxhEKOoI/AAAAAAAAAFY/OX0RMUVp03Q/s1600/005.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599983995254880898" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UliSDZSdYwU/TbcjxhEKOoI/AAAAAAAAAFY/OX0RMUVp03Q/s320/005.JPG" /></a> Dear Terra,<br /><br />as promised, another day, another missive.<br /><br />the song i sent you yesterday was one of two i wrote within a couple of days in early March, right after the last meeting of our writers` bloc. very unusual circumstance - most months i may write one song, and usually directly before the meeting.<br /><br />i had been confused about the date of the next one - seems i had a year-old calendar on my wall. thinking that the session would fall on April 1, i invited folks to write a Fool`s song. the confusion was soon relieved, but wheels were already in motion in my brain.<br /><br />i had also just heard a new duo called Spring Breakup, who formed for the express purpose of putting together a themed album around the idea that the breakup of river ice in the Yukon, where they were writing, often coincides with the breakup of relationships.<br /><br />so i was starting with someone else`s idea. i have no problem doing that - i do it all the time, and try my best to reveal my sources. but it seems the idea is anathema to some songwriters.<br /><br />and i didn`t stop at just borrowing the idea. the basic premise of the song i was thinking of was that couples are fooled into thinking that their love is forever, much the way that one might think a season will never end.<br /><br />so the last line of the first verse turned out to be:<br />''We were fooled by a season, but never again, never again''<br />which led naturally to a rockin`chorus of:<br />''We won`t get fooled again, by endless dark or weather...''<br /><br />The Who. i know.<br /><br />and yes, i would have preferred to come up with something just as catchy but totally original. but i didn`t. and ''totally original'' is an impossibility in any case. it`s a trap. a cult.<br /><br />i always warn my songwriting students of this. think about it - if you came up with any piece of music that didn`t fit some pattern that had already been done, it would be unlistenable, crap.<br /><br />folks have this idea that ''creative'' people ''create'' like God - out of nothingness, zero history. it ain`t so. we are inspired by something out there, and try to make something else out of it, by using what`s in here.<br /><br /><em>The Cruellest Month</em><br /><br /><p><em>March came in like a lion, the wind roared</em></p><br /><p><em>there were maples to tap, and rivers to ford, rivers to ford</em></p><br /><p><em>soon out goes the lamb, in soft rain</em></p><br /><p><em>we were fooled by a season, but never again, never again</em></p><br /><p>we won`t get fooled again, by endless dark or weather</p><br /><p>frozen skin a burning pain, winter looks like forever</p><br /><p>but we won`t get fooled again</p><br /><p></p><br /><p><em>time for the breakup, the ice groans</em></p><br /><p><em>i can only agree, here on my own, here on my own</em></p><br /><p><em>what were we dreaming, in our little den</em></p><br /><p><em>we were fooled by the fire, but never again, never again</em></p><br /><p>we won`t get fooled again, by this endless river</p><br /><p>that flows while standing still, love looks like forever</p><br /><p>but we won`t get fooled again</p><br /><p><em>April is the cruellest month, chaos is the rule</em></p><br /><p><em>try to divine its wrath, you`ll be the first of fools</em></p><br /><p><em>may the sun rise to meet you, full in the face</em></p><br /><p><em>with the wind at your back, all of your days, all of your days</em></p><br /><p><em>spring`s a beginning, spring is an end</em></p><br /><p><em>we fooled ourselves, but never again, never again</em></p><br /><p>we won`t get fooled again, lying together</p><br /><p>the lion and the lamb, nothing is forever...</p><br /><p></p><br /><p>so i had a few weeks to play the song, get used to the idea that it wasn`t all mine. it seemed to work, and i thought it would be a good one for the band. took it to BADASS (the writers`bloc), and most liked it. except for a fellow who thought it was good except for the Who reference, and could not understand why i would even try to get away with it.</p><br /><p>i may need to start hanging out with a younger crowd, folks who are used to sampling, mashups etc.</p><br /><p>you can`t call it ''stealing'' when it`s such a well-known phrase. i like to think of it as an ''hommage''. i bet Pete and Roger and John and Keith would dig it.</p><br /><p>will write again soon</p><br /><p>cheerslove</p><br /><p><em>paul</em></p><br /><p></p><br /><p></p><br /><p><em></em></p>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-71260013493241584362011-04-25T10:25:00.003-04:002011-04-25T11:56:12.042-04:00My Return from Nowhere in Particular<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Eah4OT97Tlk/TbWJ2jUSBJI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/B2F434Qm5HQ/s1600/20_1_L.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 269px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 264px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599533281991328914" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Eah4OT97Tlk/TbWJ2jUSBJI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/B2F434Qm5HQ/s320/20_1_L.jpg" /></a> T. LeMonde<br />Erehwyreve<br /><br />2011 04 25<br /><br />Dear Terra,<br />sorry i haven't written in so long. there's no excuse for it really - i've had very good news to share.<br /><br />biggest is that Sue Charters and i have been hired to perform a shortened version of Blood and Fire - we're subtitling it "The Donnelly Primer" - at this year's Mariposa Folk Festival.<br /><br />it's been a really interesting process to cut it down to under 75 minutes (and no intermission). i dropped two of the songs, and Sue is working at cutting the stories to about four minutes each, for an audience tuned to a weekend of songs. Sue has some great ideas for visuals and pacing, etc.<br /><br />i've been lobbying my pals at MFF to get my name on at least one piece of publicity with that of Emmylou Harris, this year's headliner. i don't amass souvenirs as a rule, but <em>that</em> would be a keeper.<br /><br />the day i heard she was coming was also International Women's Day. so i had to write an Emmylou-type song, from a woman's point of view:<br /><br /><em>Emmylou on the Radio</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Emmylou is on the radio, tomorrow's the day to go</em><br /><em>plough on through all this snow</em><br /><em>with Emmylou on the radio</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>we're livin' on the edge of town, just like you said</em><br /><em>livin' on the edge, and livin' on the edge of town</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>i dreamed of the big romance, i thought it was our best chance</em><br /><em>but it was only a high school dance</em><br /><em>then Emmylou on the radio</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Emmylou is on the radio, tomorrow's the day to go</em><br /><em>plough on through all this snow</em><br /><em>with Emmylou on the radio</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>we're livin' on the edge of town, just like you said</em><br /><em>livin' on the edge, and livin' on the egde of town</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>i could drive to Hollywood, sunshine would do me good</em><br /><em>out from under this wedding hood</em><br /><em>with Emmylou on the radio</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Emmylou is on the radio, tomorrow's the day to go</em><br /><em>plough on through all this snow</em><br /><em>with Emmylou on the radio</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>we're livin' on the edge of town, just like you said</em><br /><em>livin' on the edge, and livin' on the edge of town</em><br /><em>livin' on the edge, and livin' on the edge of town</em><br /><br /><br />now all i need is a woman to sing it. it's a very simple melody, so i've tried to make a gift of it to my friend Amy, who loves and promotes roots music, including mine, but calls herself "not a singer". i won't give up , though. i know it's a dream of hers to perform.<br /><br />wish me luck! i promise to write soon, and often. new leaf for spring!<br /><br />cheerslove<br />paulpaul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-55382170637921482402010-10-20T16:59:00.006-04:002010-10-20T17:29:19.263-04:00and then there was the antidote<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C7pZW0-n0XM/TL9eYk5lHvI/AAAAAAAAAFA/q06LZ9X4x2M/s1600/badass4.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530242643749314290" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C7pZW0-n0XM/TL9eYk5lHvI/AAAAAAAAAFA/q06LZ9X4x2M/s200/badass4.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C7pZW0-n0XM/TL9eIAi8A_I/AAAAAAAAAE4/_4neI2snsa4/s1600/badass4.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C7pZW0-n0XM/TL9dtSEVhZI/AAAAAAAAAEw/6f5JRrQtnHw/s1600/012.JPG"></a><br /><br /><br /><div>not that i was gun-shy or anything, after my last house concert experience, outlined in some detail on these pages, but i don't think i was in my usual "this should be good" frame of mind as i walked the few blocks to my friendly neighbourhood private venue.</div><br /><br /><div>punters were few and far between when i entered the music room, and i wondered if it were in any way a reflection of the previous experience. but hell, i was there - so maybe not.</div><div> </div><div>any reservations were immediately dispelled when Ashley Condon walked to her stool and started talking with us. i swear it went on for twenty minutes, before she even thought about playing a song.</div><br /><div>if i believed in such things, i would have thought she had been sent by the powers that be to soothe my savage breast. she was the perfect antidote: friendly, funny, engaging and interested in us. our small number didn't seem to bother her at all, and she put on a wonderful show. we felt free to comment whenever, sing along at will. she invited some of us to play with her - cello, guitar, harmonica.</div><div> </div><div>afterwards we removed to the kichen where Ashley asked us to play some of our songs - these are arms which require little twisting - and listened long, although she had to be very tired.</div><br /><div>i heard the next day that she had been sick all night and was not in good shape for her cd release in Toronto that night. i hope she got through it ok.</div><br /><div>except for that last bit, i felt so good about the night, had my faith restored.</div><br /><div>thanks Ashley. the rest of you should go see her if you ever get a chance. a guaranteed good time.</div><div> </div><div>looking forward to the next one.</div><br /><div>cheers!</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913357579960573367.post-76911174060082023792010-09-16T16:54:00.004-04:002010-09-16T18:29:03.490-04:00performance: it's not "give AND/OR take"<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C7pZW0-n0XM/TJKE4ly-XdI/AAAAAAAAAEo/E_g0BlLYg6M/s1600/Tiny+Rehearsal.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 316px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517618601235733970" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C7pZW0-n0XM/TJKE4ly-XdI/AAAAAAAAAEo/E_g0BlLYg6M/s400/Tiny+Rehearsal.jpg" /></a><br /><div>i'm not sure how i'm going to say this, or even if i should. i can imagine how some of my friends will react.</div><div></div><div>such is life.</div><div></div><div>so i went to a house concert the other night. i love house concerts - don't you? so warm and intimate, no barriers of microphones and speakers between you and the performer. the banter, the give and take can be so much fun.</div><div></div><div>and the lack of such barriers means a lovely opportunity for the performer as well - a chance to share your art and stories with new friends.</div><div></div><div>"share" being the operative word: "to participate in, use or experience in common".</div><div></div><div>the best concerts, in houses or halls, are not so much monologues as they are conversations, even if the audience isn't actually speaking. the performer is somehow in touch with our thoughts, <em>conversant</em> with them. we are part of what's going on.</div><div></div><div>the best performers can do that - break down the physical barriers of props and stages and large spaces, share an intimate experience despite the surroundings.</div><div></div><div>many more can't quite reach that state in an auditorium but do very nicely in a living room. they welcome the change, and they welcome us. they talk <em>with</em>, not <em>at</em> us. perhaps they change their set list when they perceive a link with a new friend's story.</div><div></div><div>well, the performer on this night was of a third type: aloof, wary, and not conversant with the other folks in the room. which was something of a surprise, after an early comment that by the end of the evening, we would know her quite well.</div><div></div><div>but it turned out not to be true at all. sure, she told us some intimate details of her life in story and song, hoping we would be titillated and mildly outraged. she wasn't <em>sharing</em> them with us - we weren't part of the equation at all. it would have been the same show, no matter which 20 people in all the world were in that room with her.</div><div></div><div>and when some of us tried to start a conversation around her songs, she was taken aback and shot us down with a sarcastic "Oh - is this the audience participation part?" she managed to <em>create</em> distance where there was none.</div><div></div><div>i'm still not sure what i want to say here. it was mostly an observation i've been musing on and felt the need to share. i left immediately after the concert, as i had to be up before the birds the next day. so i didn't get to speak to anyone else, or to the performer, for that matter. perhaps i might have gleaned a reason for her style. or perhaps not. it may be a very deep reason indeed - who is to know?</div><div></div><div>it's a very difficult thing for me to understand. i love an audience, and the more intimate the better. i've tried recording studio-style a few times, and i can't do it. so i record live shows, and damn the technical torpedoes - tough on the engineer, but he forgives me much.</div><div></div><div>in a perfect world, this performer would be able to make a living playing the medium-size shows i can see her being most comfortable with - stage, props, a little safe distance. i daresay i would have enjoyed her show more in that type of setting. and our living rooms would be visited by those suited best to it.</div><div></div><div>perhaps my expectations of house concerts are out of whack - is it wrong to assume that i will enjoy an intimate experience simply because it's an intimate space?</div><div> </div><div>i'd love to hear your comments. i think.</div>paul courthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877231721704380588noreply@blogger.com0