My all-time favorite line
about musician's
bio's is the title and hook of a Dan Connor song:
"My life is based on a true story."
My father
acted and directed in local theater, sang in chorale groups, and wrote
stories and poetry. I added the guitar to the mix. . . I learned to
read music as a kid by one-noting out the old Steven Foster songs my
grandmother played on the piano, and looking in the book to see how
they wrote it down. . .
A folksinger named Kay got me started on the guitar while we were at
Oakland University. . . My 22nd birthday present, at Cafe Godot in Putney,
Vermont was realizing people liked my voice, . . . I learned my first
blues licks, and blues harp, playing with Dink Mantle in the old St.
Louis "gaslight district". . . One of my best songs is a re-write
(with her permission) of a Randi Phillips song. . .
Hearing Hoyt Axton do his song 'Endless Road' on the dobro one night in
L.A. in 1965 is why I play one. A long list of
"big names" like Hoyt, Dylan, Kristofferson, Johnny Cash, Joan
Baez, Judy Collins and others have been influences too, but mostly at
a distance. Truth be told, unknowns-- family, friends and acquaintances,
up close and personal-- deserve most of the thanks and credit for shaping
what I do with music. I sure didn't
get where I am with it all by myself.
There's also a chunk of credit due to some less tangible influences, who live in that mysterious place songs come from. Ask any musician: the way we write the stuff is, we hear voices-- vocal and instrumental alike. But if that's true-- if I'm listening (and I am-- I never heard that song before)-- who's singing? Who's playing that melody in my head that I like so much I'm going to learn it too? I mean-- if that was me, I'd already know how to play it. . . wouldn't I?
So I listen, and try to get the good stuff written down before it flies
out the other ear, and then rewrite the lyrics, and work on the melody
and the chords and the picking 'til it sounds like what I heard. . . Saying
"I" wrote it is really just a convenience; it doesn't begin
to describe the magic in how the music happens. Truth be told, some kind
of "we" wrote it-- but they gave me the song, not their names.
One more thing:
Music is called playing, and it's true. I'd rather hear an amateur play
than a pro work, any night of the week-- and I worked a lot of nights
I'm glad you never heard to learn that lesson. . . That's not to say music
should be all fun and games-- although the music business has devolved
to where cheap thrills are about all it can or cares to sell-- and meanwhile,
the internet has turned it into a cottage industry.
(A dobro in surgery -- getting a voicelift. :-)
Now, if you ever were a kid, or raised some, you know that playing can
be very serious business. Doing a sad song really "right"--
making the audience cry-- feels just as good as doing a happy one. . .
Practicing the handcraft and the vocals can be work sometimes, yes; and
songwriting and re-writing can be too-- but it's all to make the playing
more of a joy.
It's not complicated. Music
is my favorite sandbox. Words, melodies and guitars are my favorite toys.
And the sign over the playground gate says:
Unless ye become as little children,
ye shall not enter the kingdom of heaven.
