Some of you who own my album "The Delicious Company of Freaks" will have noticed that on the rear of the booklet, outside the window of the room, there is a bird seemingly suspended in the clear blue sky. That bird is a Kestrel, doing what Kestrels can do, almost effortlessly, hovering in mid air, watching the ground below getting ready to dive to its prey.
This is a sight I was lucky to see quite regularly on walks with my family up onto the North Downs. The steep verges beside the M20 close to my family home in Wrotham, Kent, made a perfect hunting ground for this graceful and mysterious bird, and my Dad, being a mine of information on all things Ornithological, would always point it out, and then urge me to read more about it in the Observer Book of British Birds, which had pride of place on the bookshelf in the hall.
I was genuinely fascinated by it, and the other birds of prey which shared the page with it (The Merlin and The Hobby). I have fond memories of getting all my felt tip pens out and setting out to copy a Kestrel in flight as a gift for my Dad, and the immense sense of pride it brought when he decided to put it in a frame and hang it, pride of place, beside his desk.
My Dad was a reserved man, never showing too much of any particular emotion, but what was clear, was his joy that his love of this creature had been passed down to me so effectively.
When Dad passed away, I, like many others I know who have lost a parent, felt like a way marker in my journey in life had suddenly been stripped away. It was like everything I had done up to that point had in some way been informed by my Father, and that not being able to approach him to give that advice, or just a nod of "You're doing ok Son, just keep at it" would be impossible to cope with.
It was just a few days after the Funeral when feeling so lost, when driving somewhere I looked to my right to see a Kestrel hovering above a field beside the motorway. Now, I don't mind if you think I'm sentimental, or silly for thinking this, but I genuinely felt that Dad had something to do with that bird appearing at that time, in that way. Since then, when I've been on journeys which I felt significant - driving to gigs, going on tours, going to visit my Mum, and sometimes on an ordinary day, I will always see a bird of prey of some description cross my path in some way.
More often than not it's a Buzzard or a pair of Buzzards gliding high in the sky, sometimes it'll be Sparrow Hawk sitting in a tree (or sometimes on the top of a Lamp Post!). However, the one bird which drifts, hovering softly, often lit by the gentle sun, into my life is the Kestrel. There is nothing which lifts my heart and soul quite so much as catching a brief glimpse of a Kestrel - and that is the reason it features on the album artwork of The Delicious Company of Freaks, and will feature in the artwork of my next album "The Light Broke In".
As for why it's outside a window on the left hand side of the image - well, you can blame Mark Wilkinson's escaping Jester in "Misplaced Childhood" for that one :)
Wednesday 3 September 2014
Friday 22 August 2014
Making "Chocolate Cake" whilst the bread rose.
Ok, I know, a bit of a strange title for a blog, but here's the thing, this is actually what I was doing last night. The "Chocolate Cake" I was creating was an instrumental piece which you can now here on my "Songs from the Hobbithole" ReverbNation Page - the bread was a culinary achievement to be enjoyed by me and my Mum when I visit her for the Bank Holiday Weekend.
As some of you will know, a while ago I set myself a challenge, to write instrumental tracks to order, on subjects, or with titles dreamt up by the ever-inventive minds of my Facebook Friends. They didn't disappoint and I've now completed 4 of the 8 which have been suggested (I'm happy to take more suggestions by the way.
Initially when I was given Chocolate Cake as a title I was thinking of making a sweet, slightly soulful ballad with plenty of Rhodes Piano and slap bass. However, I then chose to take a different direction with it and came up with a way of musically re-creating the word "Chocolate Cake" in the form of, what turned out to be a 3 minute "prog" piece.
So, how did I go about it. Well, thankfully for me the word has 3 chord names in it, some repeated C, A and E, so that was somewhere to start. So, the structure of the song, is intended to spell out the words Chocolate Cake and here's how:
The opening chord of the song is a C minor the second chord is a C minor 7th which is a Harmonisation of that chord, the next is the same chord but played an Octave higher, the next chord is a C but this time it's a major, to bring a little sweetness in, this then moves an Octave lower on the keyboard. Now to the tricky letter L - I decided that in terms of musical theory there wasn't much to play with except for tempos such as Largo so I went with the term "Lament" - here I used what is, in my opinion a very sad and poignant chord, Fminor 7th, ok a small cheat, but it worked for me. Next onto the A, or in this case an A flat as it fitted better with the preceding chord. Now, for T I decided that Tune was as good a word as any, so here is where the melody of the guitar solo kicks in and after once more round the chord sequence it does a key change to land on a juicy E minor Chord. So, if you read all the letters in bold, you should now have Chocolate.
Now back to the C minor as that's the underpinning chord of the piece, then a move to A flat and of course the obligatory Key Change at the end to resolve to an exchange between Es, both minor and major, sweet and bitter chocolate, if you will. You should now have your Cake and be able to eat it too :)
There is another layer to this story however, and that is the number of layers the song has, i.e. how many tracks I laid down to make the whole. There are, in total 13 tracks, which is exactly the same number of letters as there are in Chocolate Cake - see, told you it was a bit geeky!
What pleases me about this, is that I was truly challenged by this task, but I don't think that challenge can be heard in the track, it just sounds simple, and rolls along nicely in just under 3 minutes - and the wonderful thing is, I even managed to find an arpegiator to mimic the sound of an oven timer going off at the end of the track. Chocolate Cake? Definitely. Half Baked? Almost certainly.
Hopefully it's as pleasing to the originator of the idea as it is to those who like their "prog" instrumental, short and to the point :)
As some of you will know, a while ago I set myself a challenge, to write instrumental tracks to order, on subjects, or with titles dreamt up by the ever-inventive minds of my Facebook Friends. They didn't disappoint and I've now completed 4 of the 8 which have been suggested (I'm happy to take more suggestions by the way.
Initially when I was given Chocolate Cake as a title I was thinking of making a sweet, slightly soulful ballad with plenty of Rhodes Piano and slap bass. However, I then chose to take a different direction with it and came up with a way of musically re-creating the word "Chocolate Cake" in the form of, what turned out to be a 3 minute "prog" piece.
So, how did I go about it. Well, thankfully for me the word has 3 chord names in it, some repeated C, A and E, so that was somewhere to start. So, the structure of the song, is intended to spell out the words Chocolate Cake and here's how:
The opening chord of the song is a C minor the second chord is a C minor 7th which is a Harmonisation of that chord, the next is the same chord but played an Octave higher, the next chord is a C but this time it's a major, to bring a little sweetness in, this then moves an Octave lower on the keyboard. Now to the tricky letter L - I decided that in terms of musical theory there wasn't much to play with except for tempos such as Largo so I went with the term "Lament" - here I used what is, in my opinion a very sad and poignant chord, Fminor 7th, ok a small cheat, but it worked for me. Next onto the A, or in this case an A flat as it fitted better with the preceding chord. Now, for T I decided that Tune was as good a word as any, so here is where the melody of the guitar solo kicks in and after once more round the chord sequence it does a key change to land on a juicy E minor Chord. So, if you read all the letters in bold, you should now have Chocolate.
Now back to the C minor as that's the underpinning chord of the piece, then a move to A flat and of course the obligatory Key Change at the end to resolve to an exchange between Es, both minor and major, sweet and bitter chocolate, if you will. You should now have your Cake and be able to eat it too :)
There is another layer to this story however, and that is the number of layers the song has, i.e. how many tracks I laid down to make the whole. There are, in total 13 tracks, which is exactly the same number of letters as there are in Chocolate Cake - see, told you it was a bit geeky!
What pleases me about this, is that I was truly challenged by this task, but I don't think that challenge can be heard in the track, it just sounds simple, and rolls along nicely in just under 3 minutes - and the wonderful thing is, I even managed to find an arpegiator to mimic the sound of an oven timer going off at the end of the track. Chocolate Cake? Definitely. Half Baked? Almost certainly.
Hopefully it's as pleasing to the originator of the idea as it is to those who like their "prog" instrumental, short and to the point :)
Thursday 31 July 2014
The strange (yet wonderful) world of Recording
As you may know I've been gradually recording my 3rd album "The Light Broke In" with the very able recording engineer Richard Parsons of Rooflight Production. I have also recently indulged myself by getting a copy of Cubase Artist 7.5 and an audio/midi interface for my P.C.
So, I thought I'd give you an insight into the two very different worlds of recording - home alone, and away with friends.
The discipline required for recording in a studio is huge. First of all, you become aware of time as money in a way that has previously escaped you. You also become completely unaware of time until it has disappeared in an 8 hour chunk and you have achieved a lot less than you came in believing you would. So, it's all about having a plan, making sure things are set up correctly, and that the musicians you are working with are up to speed and happy. That said, I've been a little less than conventional on this point. I had written 10 songs on acoustic guitar/piano but was presented with a whole toolbox of fun of adding/layering and arranging songs with creative minds in the studio to help me. So, the recording process became not just documenting what I'd written, but further embellishing, enabling and letting the songs take flight in a new way.
I guess the best example I can give of this is "Last Out of the Valleys" which began life as a slow, Mississippi inspired blues number, languid in pace and soulful in the vocals. Once we got in the studio I had the urge to "funk it up" a little, and with the addition of Patrick Sanders on Electric rhythm guitar giving it the full Nile Rogers, it took on a new life. It is still the same core song, same chords, same lyrics, but with a new shaft of light cast on it from a different angle. That, for me, is the beauty of collaboration, not only with the musicians, but the recording engineer, and others involved throwing their pearls of wisdom into the mix. It makes for a very interesting (if sometimes arduous and frustrating) process. Anne-Marie Helder often describes her albums as her children, and she is right in the fact that they take a lot of nurturing, looking after and coaxing to be brought into the world. The other part of that is letting go, even though it might seem not yet complete, because at some point it needs to make its own mark on the world.
Something which made the most recent recording session even more interesting was having a completely uninitiated visitor in the shape of Clive Hewes. Clive said some time ago "I've seen studios on the television, and watched documentaries about recording, but I've never seen it in the flesh". I invited him along to Rooflight Studios, and it was a joy to see his fascination unfold as we pieced together a song, worked on harmonies etc. His reaction to the songs was wonderful to watch, as was his realisation of the hard work which goes in to making an album sound good. Clive is a true music love, a true supportive and generous fan so to be able to give him something back in the shape of an experience was truly worthwhile.
So, on to the "Home Alone" approach. Sometimes, you just need a gently lit room, a stick of incense and a raft of instruments to chose from to get inspired. The freedom that digital recording at home gives is that time is of no consequence, and you can record as many layers as you like. The danger is of course, no sleep and no finished tracks. So, to solve that issue I requested the lovely people on Facebook to set me challenges of writing instrumentals on subjects that they provided me with. I have completed 3 out of the 8 suggestions provided so far, which range from the sublime to the bizarre and beyond :) These little ditties can be found at Songs From The Hobbithole.
I suppose the thing all of us, musicians and music fans alike is that recording, however, wherever and whenever you do it, is a creative process which takes time, effort, discipline and often money to get right. The end product may not be to everyone's taste, but as long as it was created with integrity, passion and the desire to communicate ideas to others, then it's all worthwhile.
So, I thought I'd give you an insight into the two very different worlds of recording - home alone, and away with friends.
The discipline required for recording in a studio is huge. First of all, you become aware of time as money in a way that has previously escaped you. You also become completely unaware of time until it has disappeared in an 8 hour chunk and you have achieved a lot less than you came in believing you would. So, it's all about having a plan, making sure things are set up correctly, and that the musicians you are working with are up to speed and happy. That said, I've been a little less than conventional on this point. I had written 10 songs on acoustic guitar/piano but was presented with a whole toolbox of fun of adding/layering and arranging songs with creative minds in the studio to help me. So, the recording process became not just documenting what I'd written, but further embellishing, enabling and letting the songs take flight in a new way.
I guess the best example I can give of this is "Last Out of the Valleys" which began life as a slow, Mississippi inspired blues number, languid in pace and soulful in the vocals. Once we got in the studio I had the urge to "funk it up" a little, and with the addition of Patrick Sanders on Electric rhythm guitar giving it the full Nile Rogers, it took on a new life. It is still the same core song, same chords, same lyrics, but with a new shaft of light cast on it from a different angle. That, for me, is the beauty of collaboration, not only with the musicians, but the recording engineer, and others involved throwing their pearls of wisdom into the mix. It makes for a very interesting (if sometimes arduous and frustrating) process. Anne-Marie Helder often describes her albums as her children, and she is right in the fact that they take a lot of nurturing, looking after and coaxing to be brought into the world. The other part of that is letting go, even though it might seem not yet complete, because at some point it needs to make its own mark on the world.
Something which made the most recent recording session even more interesting was having a completely uninitiated visitor in the shape of Clive Hewes. Clive said some time ago "I've seen studios on the television, and watched documentaries about recording, but I've never seen it in the flesh". I invited him along to Rooflight Studios, and it was a joy to see his fascination unfold as we pieced together a song, worked on harmonies etc. His reaction to the songs was wonderful to watch, as was his realisation of the hard work which goes in to making an album sound good. Clive is a true music love, a true supportive and generous fan so to be able to give him something back in the shape of an experience was truly worthwhile.
So, on to the "Home Alone" approach. Sometimes, you just need a gently lit room, a stick of incense and a raft of instruments to chose from to get inspired. The freedom that digital recording at home gives is that time is of no consequence, and you can record as many layers as you like. The danger is of course, no sleep and no finished tracks. So, to solve that issue I requested the lovely people on Facebook to set me challenges of writing instrumentals on subjects that they provided me with. I have completed 3 out of the 8 suggestions provided so far, which range from the sublime to the bizarre and beyond :) These little ditties can be found at Songs From The Hobbithole.
I suppose the thing all of us, musicians and music fans alike is that recording, however, wherever and whenever you do it, is a creative process which takes time, effort, discipline and often money to get right. The end product may not be to everyone's taste, but as long as it was created with integrity, passion and the desire to communicate ideas to others, then it's all worthwhile.
Sunday 6 July 2014
It's been a long long time, hasn't it?
Well, over 2 years to be precise! The lack of a home computer after my lap-top power-supply decided to die meant that I was restricted to either using the Library computers or work computers in my lunch hour, which, as you'll understand is not conducive to a continuous relationship with the blogisphere.
Well I'm now back in the world of home computing, and a whole lot has happened in those two years. Last time I blogged, I was about to support Panic Room for the first time, on the summer launch gigs of their album S K I N. Since then I supported them on their full tour in November/December 2012 and in a lovely bit of serendipity on the 13th of June (almost 2 years to the day since the first time) I was invited to support Panic Room at The Robin2 in Bilston. A very different set from first time as new songs have been written since and a new album is being recorded, but an old favourite of both mine and Jonathon Edwards' "Who Knows Where the Time Goes" by Sandy Denny was included for old time's sake, as was "The Delicious Company of Freaks" of course.
So, what's happening right now? Well, I've formed a band to play my next album with me both in the studio, and later on the road, all the latest news about that can be found on my new website http://www.howardalansinclair.co.uk.
I am now also back in the world of the television viewer, but since my move to a one bed flat in the leafy parts of Cheltenham, it is less of a drain on my time, and is only watched when either something really good is on, or when I've done all the other important things I need to do and just want to wind down.
I am also once again the owner (well, borrower for the time being, it's on hire) of a Cello. It was the first instrument I ever mastered as a child, and since there are at least two songs on this album which need Cello, I decided it was time to literally add another string to my bow. It's been lovely rekindling my love for the sound and feel of the Cello, and I'm looking forward to using it in a number of ways. A fantastic half hour or so was spent jamming on Cello with a good friend Magic Andy on the Lap Steel. An unusually haunting and sensuous combination of sounds and one I'm going to start working with in my home studio for some instrumental projects, keep an eye on ReverbNation and Soundcloud for new tunes!
So, I'll keep it short for this first blog after a long break, but I'll be back when I have something more profound and thought provoking to say. In the mean time, stay delicious, freaks :)
Well I'm now back in the world of home computing, and a whole lot has happened in those two years. Last time I blogged, I was about to support Panic Room for the first time, on the summer launch gigs of their album S K I N. Since then I supported them on their full tour in November/December 2012 and in a lovely bit of serendipity on the 13th of June (almost 2 years to the day since the first time) I was invited to support Panic Room at The Robin2 in Bilston. A very different set from first time as new songs have been written since and a new album is being recorded, but an old favourite of both mine and Jonathon Edwards' "Who Knows Where the Time Goes" by Sandy Denny was included for old time's sake, as was "The Delicious Company of Freaks" of course.
So, what's happening right now? Well, I've formed a band to play my next album with me both in the studio, and later on the road, all the latest news about that can be found on my new website http://www.howardalansinclair.co.uk.
I am now also back in the world of the television viewer, but since my move to a one bed flat in the leafy parts of Cheltenham, it is less of a drain on my time, and is only watched when either something really good is on, or when I've done all the other important things I need to do and just want to wind down.
I am also once again the owner (well, borrower for the time being, it's on hire) of a Cello. It was the first instrument I ever mastered as a child, and since there are at least two songs on this album which need Cello, I decided it was time to literally add another string to my bow. It's been lovely rekindling my love for the sound and feel of the Cello, and I'm looking forward to using it in a number of ways. A fantastic half hour or so was spent jamming on Cello with a good friend Magic Andy on the Lap Steel. An unusually haunting and sensuous combination of sounds and one I'm going to start working with in my home studio for some instrumental projects, keep an eye on ReverbNation and Soundcloud for new tunes!
So, I'll keep it short for this first blog after a long break, but I'll be back when I have something more profound and thought provoking to say. In the mean time, stay delicious, freaks :)
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