Gig, after-party, dancing… shaft of light and Scottie beams me up?! Really?!…NASA debriefing underway.
Play with abandon - with or without the band. And wear no mask…
The lowdown is… The downbeat is the first beat of the bar. The upbeat is the last beat in the previous bar. The beatdown? What wankers who lose the beat get when the crowd leaves the bar. That’s amateur hour, bar none.
Blow minds… onstage cool? Badass banter? Tip: Play F***ing Great.
…Yeah, they had it comin’, yeah, you can. So what? Time’s ‘a tickin’. Bust someone’s chops, or work on your own. Your call, Cap…
“Carole Charlin’s signature voice, so soulful, expressive; her phrasing and styling impeccable and polished – amazing and mesmerizing!” We agree… WOMR 92.1 FM Provincetown, MA
Really? The mythos of pathos and bathos…Truth found only in ruin and the rubble…Meaning found only in suffering… Seriously? To echo long-gone Queen Victoria who overnighted at a bad inn in the Scottish Highlands: "No pudding, and no fun."
Your music in true voice is a piercing voice. It’s the one heard loud, ringing out on the inside. The voice that cancels the noise. The one to listen to, to follow, the one telling you you’re in tune.
Performing music is a test of character and integrity. The heart of it is not caring what others think of what you do, it’s doing what’s right by you. Yet the soul of it is to treat both yourself and others right.
...the actual term. Rhythm and beat in time. The pulse of music. The spell that grabs. What “gets you into” a song. Toes tap, heads nod. Mess up time, miss it early or late, lose the listener. As they say, timing is everything.
Where's the music? The notes, or the space between?... Always a question debated. No one right answer. When writing music, I listen to leave in - and to leave out. Silences are a strong sound.
Why do it... Who knows, who does. Maybe the call of the wild, maybe hysteria. Anyway, music is a deep addiction, a dark art. The trip we take takes us.
Any artist who steers clear of the common rocks and shoals to set course for amazing shores may or may not reach the beach to stake that claim. Still, what a wild ride…
photo: Liz Kane & Co
...Is a homecoming. Take the trip, it takes you. Get it right, feels like home. Often the mind, at least mine, turns to Spain, where I lived for a time. In English, we have no all-encompassing word for this homing instinct. The Spanish do. They call it querencia: favorite haunt, retreat, chosen spot. Here in my querencia, writing a new song, the tonic of sound renews me.
Carole Charlin, vocalist...inspiring harmony in word and song...a soulful, lyric voice that soars.
The art of compression in story and song...serious business about not taking yourself too seriously...takes long to make it long, longer to make it short. Make more about nothing less with much to say. Serve hot. (Photo credit: Liz Kane)
Gotta have the fun clause in the contract. Having fun makes playing music playful. Keeps it childlike. Grab a guitar, riff what I feel. A day the fun goes, I move on... till fun comes home again.
"Spartan Practices"... a rough go. Harsh culture. Hardship, deprivation. Vicious training, no timidity. Ridicule ups performance. Prove it, no surrender… and that’s a happy day in rehearsal!
Cherries… My Grandma Rose had the stuff. “Life isn’t a bowl of cherries,” she’d say. For her it wasn’t. My Uncle George had the goods. “Get a bowl,” he’d say, “stop walking around with a fist-full of pits.” Some of his last words to me… I know. The juice, the edge to get a leg up. The sucker punch you didn’t see. It's the daily dose in writing my music… It takes a whip hand. You chop that cherry tree, tell yourself no lies.
“The Chills”… Goosebumps. Chicken skin. Frisson, to the French - not cold, not fear, but the chills brought on by piercing beauty. It’s emotional, sensual. And nuerological, a dopamine shot to the brain. With music the scientifically proven hottest spark on the wires that induces this pleasure. In an instant, the first chords of your favorite song? The chills…