Amish Guitar

My friend Akelda the Gleeful over at Saints and Spinners uses the term Tenor Rush to describe that emotional reaction one has to music. That reaction where, despite whatever mood you are in, you become mush--your eyes well up with tears, your nose runs, your hair rises on your neck. It is the music that gives you goosepimples. I had never heard this term before and, being a good librarian and an English major, I've been trying to track down the term and get a authoritative definition or an example of the phrase being used in a publication. So far I've not been able to which leads me to believe it is not a common term.

No matter.

Today I ran across a link that a friend posted to her Facebook profile. I may not be able to define the tenor rush in words, but I experienced a powerful example when I followed the link.

Susan Boyle, a 47 year old contestant on Britain's Got Talent has quite recently made many people rethink their preconceived notions of people by their looks. Her common looks and accent belied an incredible singing voice. And, she chose to sing I Dreamed a Dream from Les Miserables--a song guaranteed to jerk a tear or two even when sung badly. Put that song, with her voice, and then realize that she is making a dream come true while she sings of a dream dying...well, it is more powerful than words can share. All I can say is that, hearing that song expressed in the way she performed and the surprise she dropped on the audience and the judges just made my day in a way that has carried me through the evening.

Here is the link to the youtube video (the embedding link has been disabled). Enjoy. I did.

I want to bring your attention to three young musicians that have come to my own attention over the last few weeks. Well, two of the three at least. The third one out is someone I've been following for a few months now. And there is a guitar connection in that all three do play guitar. That, however, is not the strongest link between the three of them. Besides entertaining youtube videos and infectious energy, all three are ukulele players.

First (actually, third, if I want to stay consistent), Molly aka sweetafton23. I'm not exactly sure how I stumbled across Molly, though I think I followed a link from my friend's blog Saints & Spinners. I've enjoyed Molly's music as well has her humorous comments she makes in her vlog posts. You may have noticed my link to Molly's blog over there on the right of my own.

Over Christmas, Molly posted that she had collaborated on a Christmas video with one Wade Johnston. The collaboration really wowed me too. Who was this guy? I had no idea, but I enjoyed his videos.

Watching through Wade's video brings me to the final musician--Julia Nunes. Poking around the Youtube universe makes me wonder if I was the last guy to know about Ms Nunes. Well, not really considering how old I am. But again, I was (and am) floored by her creations.

I swear I'm not a creepy old guy, though I immediately think to myself--don't protest too much.

What I find myself thinking about as I watch these musicians is my own young adulthood in college. What energy! What freedom! I don't pretend that I had (or have) the talent these young people have--but a small part of me wonders if that is what I'm trying to recapture by picking up the guitfiddle. And I really wonder if that is such a bad thing. I see in these artists that certain something I once took for granted but know still has a place somewhere among my adult responsibilities of husband, father, employer, wage earner, etc., etc., blah, blah, blah. I miss my college days dammit!

Ok, enough of my nostalgic trip down old person's lane. Check 'em out. As for me and my mid life crisis, I'm thinking about a new blog: AmishUkulele.

I'm sitting in my cousin's den, stuffed to the gills with turkey and gravy and faux-tatoes. I've much to be thankful for. My health, my weight loss, my wife and kids and my extended family are at the top.

However, I was just served an unexpected compliment that I am also quite thankful for--especially given my recent musical angst.

About 10 minutes ago, my cousin's son (a moody 17 year old) walked up and asked, "Did you bring your guitar?"

No, said I. I didn't want to annoy anyone.

"But it was cool when you played at camp out," he said.

Are you funnin' with me? I asked.

"No! I liked it. Bring it to Christmas."

And then he sulked off.

And I'm walking on Cloud Nine.

*edited to correct spelling. Gravey?

I've returned from a two day, two night conference for the state library federation held in Indianapolis. Good conference and I took Patrick along to work on "Falling Slowly" during my spare free time.

While there I afforded myself a rare treat. Downtown Indy has a blues bar called the "Slippery Noodle." I'm not sure what the story behind the name is. Perhaps because it is in a building that formerly hosted a bordello? Any rate, we went expecting a cover and a band performing a regular gig. What we found was Jam Night. I had never experienced anything like it. Musicians, some arranged in groups, some not, just put their name on a list and then took the stage when called. Sometimes the "group" consisted of a singer and a guitarist and someone from the audience got up halfway through a song to plug in his/her bass or sit down at the drum kit. I mean, these people had no idea who each other were and they were jammin' some righteous blues! And, even more heartening is that no one expected perfection. In fact, one duo, a fantastic acoustic blues duo started an original song that was just fantastic. Halfway through the song the singer just quit and said "we're going on to the next song. That one was in the wrong key and we're going to have to figure out what key we wrote it in the first time."

!

And the audience just cheered all the more.

After all my angst brought to the forefront by the movie, it was so refreshing to experience live music in the presence of imperfection. Sure, I'll never be able to jump on a stage and be told "standard 12 bar in G" and know what the hell to do. But it is enough that I understand that I know that.

That, and my club sodas were free. I guess I was the designated walker. HA!

I can't get Sunday out of my mind.

It was an unusual Sunday morning at church. We didn't have a regular service. Our pastor instead lead us through a prayer service, divided into four sections: Praise, Lament, Confession, and Blessing. Interspersed in each section were songs both by the praise team and the 4 part A Capella singing I wrote about in my last post. Normally the team plays their 3-4 song set in one block and then goes back to the pews for the rest of the service. But this Sunday, since that would have meant a lot of up and down, we just stayed on the platform behind the pulpit.

As it happens, in our praise team we have an Alto (my cousin), a Tenor (not my cousin) and a Bass (me). It has been sooo long since I have sung in an ensemble and I miss it so very much. I love to hear choirs and quartets alike. I love to sing in small groups and get to the point where our voices blend into one sound; no single person's voice dominating the rest.

My cousin is a wonderful Alto with a deep, rich tone and she has had voice training. She often sings the tenor part when she and I are in a group. The Tenor is a fabulous singer who sings the higher notes (G?, A?) like a bird. I'm not half bad myself, having had voice training and singing in the high choirs in college. Add to us three the Song Leader for the hymn singing, a brilliant Soprano and we had a wonderful quartet.

And that's when the magic happened.

There were times I was completely lost in the sound of the four of us singing there on the dais. Each of us knew when to hold back, when to crescendo on the moving parts, how to phrase, how to breathe. There were times when my chest vibrated with the sound of the chords we made, far beyond the note I was singing. It was, for me, a perfect place to be that morning, and I was a little saddened when we finished the last hymn.

But it wasn't all perfection.

Our last song as a praise team was "Come, now is the time to worship." And it's a song that I know fairly well and have no problem with on the guitar. However, as I played, I sounded awful...just awful. I sounded about a half step flat from the lead guitarist (who is amped {I'm not [thankfully]}). I thought maybe I was on the wrong frets as I sometimes do that, but no, I was just out of tune. So I stopped playing. However, even after I stopped playing, my guitar was out of tune. Huh? you might ask. Well, it was the weirdest thing. I must have been standing the right place for the voice of one of the congregation members to echo off my sound board...and he was singing a half step down.

I still couldn't play because the clashing sounds were so distracting. I just concentrated in singing the song at the right pitch. Looking at the guy singing, however, was a beautiful sight. He had no idea just how off key he was, but he was enraptured by the song he was singing. And I decided right there and then I would rather have my congregation off key and enjoying the music than to be timid about making a mistake that they make no music at all.

As hard as I find it to make music with my guitar... well not hard but it ain't easy... writing songs are even harder. I don't have a real knack for lyrics or for melody. Still, I enjoy what I do write and I've posted some lyrics on this blog. I find myself always writing in 4 line stanzas with an AA BB rhyming scheme. I just don't know how to break that barrier. Well, actually, I do, but it involves practicing my writing skills as much or more than my playing skills. I'll continue to write as I'm inspired and bore the masses of blog readers that descend on my pages each and every day. :)

There are occasions when I write something that strikes a fancy. Sometimes it takes 15 years to find out that I've done so. Alkelda the Gleeful has just posted something I wrote while in college. It's not a song by any means, but... well... you just have to go there and read it yourself. She tells the story much better than I do. While there, look around. Among the gems of poems and narratives and personal musings, you will find songs and entries on guitars.

Over the holiday weekend I spent some time going through our church hymnal. I was trying to work out melodies and even some chords here and there. I got a itch at one point to play I Bind My Heart This Tide. I was feeling rather melancholy that afternoon and this hymn is written in D minor--perfect for my mood. The melody, harmonies and the lyrics are rather powerful and I just needed to play it.

I did a quick search via google and clicked on one of the first hits which happened to be a blog. There I found the chords and lyrics, albeit in A minor. No biggie and not a hassle to transpose using the Nashville system. Anyway, I got to reading the author's blog and realize it was a fellow English major and alumna from my days in college. I read through much of her writings and decided to drop her a note. I wasn't sure if she'd remember me since, though we had several classes together, we didn't really get to know each other. But she did, at least the name even if she couldn't put a face to it.

To cut a long story short, I'd like to introduce Alkelda the Gleeful at Saints and Spinners. She is a professional storyteller in Seattle and posts many creative stories that are a delight to read. She also posts occasionally about her personal life and what not. But the best part is that she also picked up the guitar in, shall we say, later young adulthood(?), and posts about her trials and achievements with her instrument. She also likes to write songs and transpose familiar songs which she posts with accompanying chords. So, while she doesn't write a guitar blog per se, it is certainly worth your time to check it out.

Next week, how a guy somewhere in Colorado encouraged me to start blogging again--even though he didn't realize it.