The Way Forward

Published on September 1, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments

I’m home after a month on the road and am planning my next attack. It’s been an intense ride so far and I’m pretty chuffed with how this year has panned out, but there’s still more to come. With seven tours to major cities around the country, a national tour, shows on home soil and a few festivals under my belt, there are still more tours and festivals to come before the year draws to a close, which I reckon is not bad going for an independent… even if I do say so myself.

I’m on the lookout for an agent to help streamline my touring schedule a little, and I’m hoping to get more involved in corporate entertainment over the next few months. I would love to say that living the dream pays the bills, and granted, to a certain degree it does, but the reality is that you need money to make money and let’s not beat around the bush, the corporate world is where it’s at. That’s not to say that the adventure so far has been entirely unviable, I wouldn’t still be going if it was, but there are limitations to an exclusively dream-focussed career. There are music videos to make, new albums to record, and many more tours, nationally and internationally, that require an increase in resources. I spent so many years in the corporate world struggling with these same issues so it’s not like my financial situation has really changed much. The good news is that tours have started paying for themselves, album sales have increased, and during my short stays at home between tours I’ve managed to add a few more notches to my voice over portfolio belt, which, apart from adding some extra income to my monthly kitty, has also been great fun.

And so the way forward… this month I’m performing at three festivals, the Hilton Arts Festival, White Mountain Festival, and Aardklop National Arts Festival, before heading back to Gauteng for round five. I’m currently in negotiations for an exciting event in October, which will mark my first venture out of South Africa and will, if all goes according to plan, put me in the financial position to pay for the next album which I’m planning to record at the end of the year in Cape Town. I’m desperate to get back into the studio with an album that’s been ready and waiting for a few months now, and am determined to find the resources to get it out there into the world. Aside from the excitement of being back in the studio with some of my favourite musicians working on this new material, I’m desperate to hear what’s in my head come to life! The wait is torturous!

As rock ‘n roll as this constant touring sounds, life on the road is not always what it seems. Some tours are awesome, and some are nightmarish. Sometimes, it just doesn’t pan out the way I planned… shows get cancelled, venues don’t always pay, and occasionally I’ve played to a handful of people which can be soul-destroying… but those times when it does work make up for all the times it didn’t, and somehow it wills me on to do it all over again. At the end of the day, it’s not about the money. It’s about the tapping feet, the girl who said she cried in that song when she heard her words in mine, the giggles at my sarcastic jokes and the moments that move me to write more honestly and more often.

Cheetah Encounter

Published on August 28, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments

Joseph, the Cheetah

I spend a lot of time on tour in Cape Town but haven’t really spent much of that time exploring the incredible sights. On my last tour I finally managed to get to the Old Biscuit Mill which I hope to make a tradition on many tours to come – a great way to spend a Saturday morning, and so very “Capetonian”. On a holiday three years ago (probably the last time I had a holiday) I saw the penguins and seals, caught the whales off the coast on a very lucky drive down the peninsula, and took pics of those famous coloured huts on Muizenberg beach. So today being the last day of my current tour, I decided it was time to catch up on some exploration… but this time, something very special!

My sister took the day off from work and we set off for Moyo at Spier Wine Estate, just outside Stellenbosch to meet Joseph, a cheetah! I’ve seen a few pics scattered on the web of friends and family who’ve experienced this. It truly is quite incredible and I highly recommend it to anyone who has the opportunity. Half way through my encounter with Joseph he started purring, and I had to double check with the trainer at my side that it was, in fact, purring and not growling because it was loud and intense. Apparently Joseph is quite the superstar, having appeared on the silver screen and on more stages than I have! I’m thinking of featuring his intense purr on one of the tracks on my next album so that I have an excuse to invite him on stage… now that would be rock ‘n roll!

We took a walk around the Outreach facilities at Spier afterwards to meet a few other characters on the premises including Baggins the serval, Malaika the caracal, Ntombi and Moya the black-backed jackals, and two very hyperactive meerkats named Sebastian and Minki. If you’re ever in the area, check out Cheetah Outreach, it’s absolutely well worth the visit.

The Hard Tack

Published on August 21, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , .

The past month on the road has certainly provided its fair share of entertainment (refer “Tantrum Dance”). Last night I played in Durbanville, hosting my oldest audience member yet, a sprightly young soul boasting 80+ years of life experience, who threw out the most unexpected, classic chirp yet.

At my shows, I carry a silver hipflask by my side. It tends to get a snigger from audiences when I take a swig, and I won’t deny finding it rather amusing how badly everyone wants to know what’s in it. And no, I’m not telling you just yet… Half way through my set last night, I took a good swig from my trusty secret stash, only to hear the lady yell “oh dear, she’s on the hard tack again”, which had me in stitches for a good few minutes before I could carry on. It’s not often that the audience catch me off guard, but when they do, it makes a show that much more memorable.

I’ll be sharing some of my hard tack with audiences around the country over the next month, so keep your eyes peeled for some freebies!

The Tantrum Dance

Published on August 7, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments

I’m in the small, out-of-the-way town of Newcastle in northern KZN for two shows this weekend, before heading up to Joburg. When I mention playing shows in Newcastle, I generally get the same surprised response from people, but to be honest, it’s one of the smaller towns in SA that I most look forward to visiting. There’s a music club held once a month at a bar called Melo’s which I played at last night, and this being my second visit, I was prepped and ready for another great night enjoying the company of some great people, doing what I love.

It’s not often that I crumble on stage. In fact, I’m pretty good at hiding my emotions (when necessary) when I’m up there in the bright lights. Last night, however, my cool, calm and collected persona was challenged by what I now refer to as The Tantrum Dance. My music, especially when I’m playing solo, is definitely not of the get-up-and-dance variety, and I have no issues with that. My focus is lyrics, so I prefer people to sit and listen and process what I’m singing, but that’s not to say I don’t appreciate it when someone feels the beat, and last night, someone certainly did.

I admire people who have no inhibitions – those people you find yourself frowning at because they’re the only one on the dance floor, letting themselves go as if no one is watching. It’s refreshing and not something you see very often, unless you live in a small town where true characters abound. From the start of my set, this guy felt every note, so much so that I could see other people in the venue getting a bit uncomfortable, and almost embarrassed. But half way through my set, when I started to play “Oh Boy”, my cool, calm and collected self went out the window. As I started the first chorus, his previously moderate (by comparison), almost expressionistic movements, turned into jumping that I can only describe as a toddler’s tantrum, and that was it for me. I couldn’t keep a straight face anymore and launched into uncontrollable laughter. I have never been so entertained by someone in an audience before and I just couldn’t control myself anymore.

The great thing about this kind of thing happening at a show is that it changes the connection with an audience and relaxes them into a different vibe. When I was called back for an encore, I decided to replay “Oh Boy” because I couldn’t finish it the first time round, but obviously he came back for round two as well. The audience only fully realised on a second listen how suited the lyrics were to the additional entertainment, which made for even more hilarity, and I barely managed to maintain until the end of the song. I don’t know that I will ever be able to play that song again without thinking back to that little out-of-the-way show in Newcastle. Perhaps you had to be there.

Believe

Published on August 2, 2010 in Uncategorized. 1 Comment Tags: , , , .

I write honest music, generally about my personal experiences in this world and appreciate what that means to an audience. It has been incredible to have audiences share their stories with me when they’ve heard their truth in mine, when the words have sounded like their own. The format of their experience most often differs to mine, but the general emotional experience is the same. The notion of shared human experience is a powerful one, especially when you’re dealing with your own suffering. The idea that you are not alone in that pain is of some comfort and the fact that my music contributes in some way means a lot to me because I often work through my own turmoil through music that moves me, so I appreciate the power that a song holds.

“Believe”, a song I wrote a little over a year ago for my new album, has received the biggest emotional reaction since including it in my solo set. I wrote the song just after I left my day job to do music fulltime, and the song has meant a lot to me on a personal level and plays an important role in inspiring me to keep going. Essentially, it reminds me where I’m coming from, how far I’ve come, where and who I want to be, and to keep believing in the dream, and up until now, it has fundamentally meant the same thing to the audiences who have shared their stories. But on Friday night, these words about courage and belief spoke to a different journey.

I played a fundraiser for a 3 year old who needed R200,000 to get to Austria for medical treatment. His parents have been furiously committed to raising enough funds to help their son, with this last event on Friday night in a long series of efforts by this brave family, and I am thrilled to say they now have enough to get to Austria. At the end of my set I played “Believe” as a small tribute to their courage and strength through this incredible journey, and it was probably the most rewarding, most meaningful moment I’ve had as a songwriter thus far. To me, the song is about believing in and following ones dream, but having managed to find hope for her son’s future, hearing these words about personal power and bravery, his mother wept.

To have a song that spoke to her courage, to the hope that she held onto with such conviction in a journey very different to my own, was an incredibly moving and inspiring moment. I love what I do. I live for it. Sharing my story has been incredible, but it is moments like this that make my songwriters heart smile.

 

(Read more about 3 year old Jason Long’s journey here.)

Addicted To The Road

Published on July 29, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments Tags: , , , .

The Open Road

It’s a week before I ride off into the sunset on the next edition of tours, and I’m chomping at the bit to get back on the road. I’ve realised over the past few weeks at home that I am, in fact, addicted to touring. It’s crawled under my skin and gripped my being entirely. I won’t lie, the last year of touring has not always been the easiest ride, but it’s certainly been a life-changing and thoroughly rad experience.

When I was at ‘varsity, I always had this urge to get in my car and just drive somewhere… anywhere… everywhere… just away. It was a ridiculous thought at the time because I was far too responsible and guarded in my early 20s, but I remembered this old craving a few months ago and realised that I’ve been living that desire wholeheartedly. The concept isn’t as whimsical anymore, and certainly involves none of the “running away” motivation that I had back then, but the basic format is the same.

Coming home after a long period on the road is a beautiful thing, and I’ve realised over the past year how much I love the place I call home. Things I’ve so often taken for granted take on a whole new meaning when I arrive back in my own space, sleep in my own bed, get back into some semblance of a routine that allows a certain degree of normality to set back in, and spend time with my family and friends who I miss so much when I’m away. Durban is exceptionally gorgeous in winter, so over the past few months especially, my appreciation for my hometown has grown tenfold as I’ve returned from the “real winters” of Joburg, Cape Town and Grahamstown. There aren’t many venues to choose from in Durban so I only play here every few months or so between tours, but this also means that I get to rest my voice a bit, regroup and focus on writing.

There is one thing about being home, however, that I don’t much care for. As a self-managed musician, I am my own booking agent, which is certainly one of the most essential parts of this job in that it secures the work, therefore allowing me to play music in the first place, but it is my least favourite role. Scheduling dates at the right venues along planned routes to fit just right into a period of time that doesn’t clash with other big events or exams or rugby matches… not fun. But necessary. And I get that. At the end of the day, I don’t think it matters what you’re doing, there is always going to be something about your job that you don’t really like, and unless you give that job to someone else, you’ve just got to get on with it. So that’s what I do when I’m home – I book the next tour, plan the next route, find more venues, schedule more dates, and try my best not to wish the days away to the next epic adventure.

Essentially, it’s all part of the ride and it will get easier over time, but I can’t hide my excitement as the next tour fast approaches because that is, after all, why I do what I do.

The Hundredth Monkey Effect

Published on July 15, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments Tags: , .

My sister is a fountain of knowledge. Something she mentioned in passing conversation over a year ago has stuck with me ever since. The phenomenon below essentially has nothing to do with music (or does it?), but I find it intriguing because I like the idea that one can affect change in the world one monkey at a time… it has a certain ring to it!

The Hundredth Monkey Effect:
There once was a Japanese scientist who observed a group of monkeys eating potatoes that they dug up from the ground. One day, one of the little monkey dudes dropped his potato in a river by mistake, and subsequently realised that potatoes tasted better washed. So, he tunes his fellow monkeys this new found knowledge. With no internet in 19-voetsek, armed with only their “monkey see, monkey do” skills, it took the next six years for 99 monkeys to learn of the new washing-your-potatoes-before-you-eat-them trick. However, once the 100th monkey heard of this revolutionary de-soiling method, the awareness somehow magically spread across water to monkeys on islands up to 500 miles away.

“The Hundredth Monkey Effect is a supposed phenomenon in which a learned behaviour spreads instantaneously from one group of monkeys to all monkeys once a critical number is reached (i.e. “critical mass”). The story was popularised as an inspirational parable, applying it to human society and the effecting of positive change therein. By generalisation it means the instant, paranormal spreading of an idea or ability to the remainder of a population once a certain portion of that population has heard of the new idea or learned the new ability. In other words, it hypothesises that there is a point at which if only one more person tunes into an awareness, the field of energy around that awareness is strengthened so much so, that it becomes the collective consciousness.”

Always A Reason

Published on July 14, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , .

I’m not a big fan of those overstated phrases that so often frequent conversations of heartache and hardship. You know the ones… Those phrases crafted to help you save face when you’re down and out… “there are plenty of fish in the sea”, “the grass isn’t always greener on the other side”, and “every cloud has a silver lining”… The fact is, you can philosophise all you want but you still feel like crap in that moment, and until you don’t feel that way anymore, no thoughtfully manicured saying is going to make you feel any better. Having said that, I do in fact appreciate a beautiful saying, as they give us hope when we have none, offering a little extra motivation to keep on keeping on. I like to think of myself as a pretty positive person these days (yes, I had my emo moments in the past but I’m pretty put together now), and I have a few of my own philosophies that keep me going and keep me believing in this crazy cool life.

There are a few phrases that pop up a lot in the music industry, my favourite of which is that golden piece of comfort: “there’s always someone watching”. When I find myself performing to a handful of people (or less on the odd occasion), I hear that internal voice reminding me that there is always someone who needs to hear what I have to say… that there is always a reason. Truly believing that is easier said than done.

Over the past ten years I’ve had a few of those performances, those shows that I thought I would never get through in one sane piece. But looking back there have been reasons for them all. Whether it be the one album I sold that is now making it’s way across oceans to new audiences; or the great press I gained from impressing that solitary reporter who almost made up the entire audience; the sound crew who did in fact make up my entire audience but are now good friends and offer endless industry networking potential; or the promoter who now offers trips to far off lands… yes, there really is always a reason. I got a call from an agent this week who had stumbled across one of these “intimate” shows recently, purely by chance. He had only watched a few songs but made a mental note to remember my name and when a project came up this week, he thought of me. Unfortunately I’m committed to other shows during that time so I can’t take him up on this particular offer (which happened to include a trip to a private game reserve in Kenya which really would’ve been superb!), but this chance meeting is already yielding other opportunities and I’m thrilled that he stumbled across one of those seemingly pointless filler shows and look forward to the potential of this new working relationship…

There is no doubt in me that there is always some truth hidden within the beauty of a well structured phrase (even the most obscure or seemingly cheesy ones), and that there is always a reason even when none appears. Believe.

Yes, Officer

Published on July 11, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments Tags: , , , .

The Police Band

I was booked for five World Cup Beach Festival shows on Durban beachfront during this final week of gees and they’ve been pretty run-of-the-mill quick sets that, as luck would have it, produced some pretty nifty contacts (as these gigs usually do) and adequate attention from a relatively diverse mid-week daytime turnout (in fact, I’m happy to report that albums are now on their way to Germany and Nicaragua!)… and then the South African Police Service turned up!

I am admittedly a little disturbed as the lead singer, radio buckled around his waist and gun still strapped to his thigh, grabs the mic in true rock star fashion and totally commands the stage. Now I was privy to the saxophonist warming up backstage before they went on, so I was quite looking forward to their set as he had me captured with the smooth sounds of an instrument that commands my full attention (I have to admit falling in love a few times as a result of the power it has over me). So when they started off with a killer jazzy tune I was suitably impressed and keen for more. They quickly descended, however, into what I would normally class as cheesy covers, but the guy had a gun, so there was no eye-rolling here. The crowd was loving it. I enjoyed a good chuckle to myself when I heard the phrase “put your hands up in the air”, which the crowd very promptly did, although at the time, I think I was the only one who fully appreciated the hilarity (I laugh at my own jokes often).

Despite an ultimately disappointing repertoire, I have to say that watching the cops rocking that stage (albeit in their own way) was the highlight of my week, topped off only by the officer who walked into my dressing room today saying “Shannon Hope, you’re under arrest”. In actuality, he had come to congratulate me on my set and to share lyrics to a song that he’d written, but jokes aside, hearing those words made my heart skip a quick beat.

Intense, At A Glance

Published on July 6, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , .

No amount of preparation could have readied me for what I have experienced over the past two weeks. A few people have asked me how the National Arts Festival was, and my response is simply this: “Intense”.

I arrived in Grahamstown expecting to be blown away by a festival that has certainly lived up to (and possibly exceeded) its reputation in my mind. In all honesty, I didn’t really know what to expect, and as I drove into that small out-of-the-way town in the Eastern Cape, the nervous excitement was almost overbearing. I have to admit to it all being a bit of a blur now… a blur of flyers, posters, shows, early mornings and crazy late nights of brandy and laughs… and cold that challenged my Durbanness to its core (unfortunately it didn’t snow, although now I’m not so sure I would’ve enjoyed the added intensity). About five days in to the festival (which was fifteen days in total), it felt like I’d been there for months. The amount of work and determination that goes in to performing at this festival is wild, and nothing like I imagined. But that’s not to say I didn’t have the time of my life!

Attendance at the festival this year wasn’t quite what was hoped for, possibly due to overestimating the impact the World Cup would have, so to be honest, financially for me it was a bit of a disaster. Having said that though, if I had to do it all over again, I absolutely would. I met incredible people, caught up with old friends, experienced theatre and music that literally moved me to tears, I laughed ‘til it hurt, and on the business front, I made amazing industry contacts that will serve me well for the future, and scored some pretty sweet press reviews. I can’t wait ‘til next year!

The early stages of making a living as a musician are, at the best of times, a financial challenge, so prioritising what you spend your money on is paramount, and at an Arts Festival it’s obviously all about the Art and experiencing as much of it as possible. So living off a supply of cereal and soup (and the kindness of family and friends who popped into the festival for a few days at a time, treating me to slightly more nutritious options) for two weeks was only a small sacrifice in comparison to the incredible talent I witnessed.

My tastes at the moment generally lean towards lighter entertainment so I focussed quite a bit on the comedy talents showing at the festival – Paul Zerdin, Rob van Vuuren, David Newton and Dekaf – all of whom had me in stitches, lifting my spirits when the hard slog of the fest was overwhelming.

On the music front, I managed to catch sets by Guy Buttery (which was truly beautiful), Karen Zoid, Autopilot, Nibs van der Spuy, Gary Thomas and a super rad band from Jozi that I now highly recommend, Outside The New (who also won an Ovation Award at the festival). I’m looking forward to possibly collaborating with these crazy boys in the near future, and have to say I’m too keen to make some noise again. As a musician I’m almost embarrassed to admit that I’ve never attended a jazz concert before, but that has now been rectified. I only made it to one jazz offering – Melanie Scholtz and The Love Apples – purely because, as a musician, I can only put up with so many solos before I start losing patience and interest. Don’t get me wrong, once I managed to focus my attention away from the fact that the pianist was very skilfully playing my dream piano (a beautiful shiny Kawai), I really did enjoy the show, but perhaps I need to be exposed to a bit more jazz to fully appreciate the vibe.

I loved the other productions that I made it to (“I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change”, “Extra-Ordinary”, “Rumpsteak” and “Stilted”) and am more than satisfied with my detox sacrifices. But on the last day of the festival, after my final performance, possibly feeling a little emotional about the whole experience coming to an end, I treated myself to one last production and it was the perfect end to my festival. “Hats”. It’s physical theatre, which, even as a drama major, is not something I’ve ever had the chance to experience prior to the festival. The two cast members are incredibly talented and watching their physical theatrics in itself was a treat, but their execution of the story caught me unaware and I found myself moved to tears by its beauty. It was an emotional encounter that could not have been more perfectly timed.

Truly explaining the festival as a whole, and my full and overwhelming experience of it all, is not possible. So these small moments and thoughts serve only as a glance into an intense two weeks that taught me so much more about myself and my craft, and further add to the awesome ride that is this life on the road. It was intense.