Once upon a time,  I was looking for alternative ways to creatively express myself. There seemed to be times when 'words' alone took too long to make, to create their emotional impact.

While it's delicious to create mental landscapes in audiences, by using words to build an imaginary 'wordscape' in which stories take place - I was curious about creative ways to bypass or short-circuit this lengthy process. I wondered how far I could go in story-telling, just using the simple frameworks of melody and words, to speak to the individual viewer/listener, and create an emotional response, of some kind.

Writer and artist Nick Hauser and I got together and began to make and record songs. (He doesn't seem to have embraced any part of the Internet - so I can't point you towards any of his work, unfortunately).

 I'd write melodies in my head, both the vocal melody, as well as what I heard as the main tune. (Naturally, the fact that I couldn't write music, didn't slow me down). I then wrote the lyrics down, each word acting as a note - and gradually assembled an odd-sounding 'song' of sorts.

I'd then go to Nick, who had a four track mixer, and a wealth of musical instruments, and more talent than any human should have. I'd sing him the song, and 'la la la' the main tune, he'd hear it, and expand it and riff on the tune, and then we'd record it. Very simple, quite rough, but pleasing to both of us, as these weird-sounding tunes emerged, which only existed in my head up until then. Often the nicest, most evocative sounding songs, were the ones that were done in one take. 

For instance, this first song. This was initially written during a three day stay in Cape Town, doing a comedy show - and sitting around in the day, quite bored, alienated, and miserable. When we recorded it, through various quirks - on the tape itself, a home made vocal track underneath somehow 'leaked' onto the current track - which made an interesting layer of sound - and there was also an accidental 'vinyl record' style hiss and crackle.

But we liked the overall effect. So we kept it.

Benjy Mudie, at the time, head honcho at the big record company, Tusk Music, South Africa, heard it, and pulled us into a studio, and rerecorded the piece. As is typical of spur-of-the-moment creations, some magic seemed to get taken out of the song, by doing it consciously in a pristinely professional studio. The redo was gorgeous, but seemed to lack a certain 'oomph' somehow.

My voice (to me, anyway) seemed to suck somewhat, in the studio version, and the cleaned-up song itself, felt almost 'too clean' somehow. The curious spark in the original, seemed to be dampened. So it was never officially released. (Something I think neither Nick or I minded too much about). But still, all kudo's to Benjy for taking the chance and getting studio time to try make a better version. (And thanks again to Benjy for giving permission to place the song online).

Time passed, and through a series of misadventures and fairly brave attempts at performance - I realized that although the music was the one thing I was doing creatively, which pleased and nourished me the most, on some inner level - there was so much 'baggage' built up in the public perception of me, that the music itself, simply couldn't be heard properly for what it was. Instead of audiences simply hearing music, they were seeing 'that guy' trying to make music.

And given that the music is old school, kind of Celt and trance meets Folk, and delicate as hell - in other words totally at odds with my public persona - with hindsight it was doomed to failure from the start. It didn't stop Nick and I from performing it live, in a variety of venues. Open air concerts, clubs, folk music gatherings and so on.

We got some radio play with a few of the songs, but nothing came of it. It didn't help that just about every song was utterly different in style and genre to each other. Much to Nick's amusement (and bewilderment, probably) I kept coming up with odd songs from slightly different genres. Whatever our 'sound' was - it was so damn eclectic, it was downright bizarre at times.  One of the few commonalities I noticed, apart from the deep focus on 'religion' and 'spirituality', was my own fascination for trying to create a 'droning' Trance effect, using various styles. Repetition to soothe the mind and lull it, in various ways.

Matters came to a head, one Grahamstown Festival, where (perhaps stupidly) I'd figured why the hell not, let's assemble a batch of the songs and perform them as a show. I didn't realize, I think, just how overwhelming the 'other' public persona of me was. I had three or four productions on at the same time, from hard drama, to my usual stand up comedy show.

And this music show was totally curveball territory, people came, sat for a while in the gorgeous old cathedral we were performing in, and then left noisily. I was embarrassed, awkward, conflicted (as usual) - and it dawned on me real fast, that the public weren't interested in anything from me which was utterly unlike whatever preconceived idea's they already had.  My 'regular' shows were sold out, great reviews and all that - but this quirky and strange show. There was almost a collective 'what the fuck is this???' from audiences.

I still don't think it was because the music was particularly crap in any way - it was just that thing about (with a nod to John Lydon) 'Public Image'.

 If truth be told, I think, out of all the various forms of creative expression I've done thus far, performing the music, gave me the most internal satisfaction. So I guess it's just utterly typical that the Universe decided I should end up doing other creative things.

As you can see, there're assorted examples here, which will give a taste of the eclectic weirdness, and general roughness.  All of the music here is 'first draft' music, no rehearsal - just 'doing it' and putting material down on tape, and seeing what emerges. 'The Witches Are Dancing' - is the closest perhaps, to any kind of regular dance number. Whereas 'At Sixes and Sevens' is again, a different type of sound. Then there's ' MOZART '- which is an extreme version of the droning style. (I took a Mozart melody I was fond of, and then using just church organ and voice, created something that was quietly pleasant to us). When we did it live, it caused a weird otherworldy mood to settle across audiences. It's long, so if you're not in the mood - jump to the next one. (There's a vocal wobble at one point that peeves me, but for the most part, it's kind of cool).

To show the interesting (to us, anyway) delicate music that would emerge from nowhere - take a listen to 'Sometimes I Wonder' - which is a bizarre but graceful clash between classical guitar and some sort of Hawaiian ambience.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

CLICK ON THE VARIOUS PLAYERS TO HEAR THE MUSIC.

 

 

 

 

 

'Scars From Dreams'. Original version.

TUSK Music version. 'Scars from Dreams'.

'The Witches Are Dancing'

'At Sixes and Sevens'

'Mozart'

'Sometimes I Wonder'

'Brown Eyed Moon'