Monthly Archive for July, 2010

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.