Category: Music

Music: science and technology. News and views surrounding the world of music as well as pointers to songs and instrumentals written and recorded by Sciencebase’s David Bradley. Find me on BandCamp for streaming and downloads.

Complications, a viral song

I would never normally discuss dreams, they’re irrelevant. But a couple of nights ago, I dreamed I was with my band, C5, in an airport. All flights were cancelled, our suitcases were empty we were going nowhere. The singer and I wrote some lyrics and I came up with a weird chord progression – Am-Em-Bb7. This song is about that…although it doesn’t use that progression…nor the lyrics from the dream.

COMPLICATIONS

I don’t remember the one lyrical line that came up in the dream, it was something incredibly poignant and profound, obvs. But, in the absence of that I came up with some new lyrics hooked on the following phrase,

It's hard not to touch your face, when your head's in your hands

It’s free to download, but given its subject matter, perhaps you’d consider donating to the Covid-19 Solidarity Response Fund set up by the WHO.

https://covid19responsefund.org/

Complications

Last night in a dream
I was sitting on an empty suitcase
with the singer from the band

All the ‘planes were grounded
so we wrote a little song.
You won’t want to sing along
You won’t want to sing along

We’re not leaving on a jetplane
We ain’t gonna fly away for too long

Maybe this all seems very simple
But the chords were askew
an A to an E with a flat five or two.

There’s always complication

It sounded like an empty plan
it was only a dream in isolation
Distance is the norm along with desolation

We need to stay connected to stay sane
We need to be in our bands
But, it’s not too hard to touch your face,
to wipe away a tear, when your head’s in your hands
your head’s in your hands
when your head’s in your hands

Your head’s in your hands
Your head’s in your hands
Your head’s in your hands
Your head’s in your hands

Incidentally, The Who, the band, had to cancel their tour because of the coronavirus, I wonder if that’s what my dream was triggered by, that and us having to cancel our fundraiser gig at the end of the month :-(

My montage based on two copyright-free, Creative Commons “CC0” images related to COVID-19 and the novel coronavirus that is taking over the world.

 

 

Happy Birthday Peter Gabriel

One of my musical heroes from way back…my early teens in fact, which were in the early ’80s…is Peter Gabriel. I once met a session guitarist who had worked with him at Real World, but that’s the closest connection I have, other than having seen him perform live a few times.

Anyway, we’ve never done any covers of his nor Genesis songs with C5 the band. There were murmurings of covering “Don’t Give Up” (one of the PG/Kate Bush collaborations) with the bigMouth choir, but that’s not happened yet. I have, however, recorded a few of his songs solo in my home studio. So Happy 70th Birthday PG:

Sledgehammer – with my daughter boo on backing vox

Solsbury Hill – a kind of Vampirish cover

Here Comes the Flood – a consciousness deluge

Bullying teachers and musical barriers

First week at high school, first-year art class. I’d done what I thought was a nice sketch of the postbox at the end of the road, that was the simple brief, draw a post box, or pillar box as we used to call them. I sat in the cold for an hour or more sketching it. It looked okay. I didn’t see myself as having any talent for sketching, not like my mate Phil who could rustle up a tiger, a horse, or a Harley Davidson with nothing more than a few scratches of HB.

The nasty bastard of an art teacher told me my art book was too small (we couldn’t afford the twice the size one, which was three times the price, and the school had said in the letter home to parents that the size I had was fine. He also dismissed my sketch are awful because I’d used a ruler to get the straight verticals of the pillar box. Nobody in primary school ever told me not to use a ruler to draw a straight line. In fact, if you didn’t use a ruler you got told off and one teacher at junior school used to slap the tips of your fingers with his metal ruler for minor misdemeanours. At the age of 11, how are you supposed to know that rulers are precluded from art.

I didn’t bother trying again in art class after that and dropped the subject as soon as it was allowed. I did do an option on technical drawing (TD) where you used set squares, rulers, pairs of compasses, and all sorts of devices to make sure your lines were straight and at the correct, right, angles etc.

Meanwhile, in the music class, those of us with a musical bent were not allowed to touch any of the musical instruments in the classroom unless were having private lessons at home on piano or some other instrument. What snobbish educational posturing by ignorant teachers that was. It had been the case in primary school too. Awful stifling attitude and although I’d forgone putting any effort in for art class, music was my first love, as they say…I got 98 percent in the first-year exams and was second only to Alison (who got 100% and was learning piano and viola at the time and in the school orchestra, which is fine).

I got a chance to learn saxophone, but for the first couple of weeks of those lessons we weren’t even allowed to put the instrument together we just had to use the mouthpiece and practice getting a sound without in any way damaging the precious reed. For actually feck’s sake, what? I was eventually allowed to put the sax together, it hung naturally on me and I could probably still play Three Blind Mice and Merrily We Roll Along, on a tenor sax. But, playing it used to give me awful headaches and worse I would have to be in the woodwind band and at that age I was far too shy to be exposed in front of other people doing something I couldn’t do. I ended up teaching myself to play guitar from books and listening to records of bands I loved. Didn’t take any more formal music lessons until sixth form, aged, 17, one term of piano.

I had meanwhile, always been into sharks and dolphins, and magnets and motors, and dinosaurs and volcanoes and space and everything else sciencey so that was the route I ultimately took. I wrote about the person who was probably the only inspiring teacher I had at high school, Miss Hall. I’d love to be able to get in touch with her to thank her. She was in her early 30s back then, so probably in her early 70s now if she’s still around.

Obviously, this is all ancient history, but it does affect how your life goes when teachers deliberately stifle you and others close off opportunity. I hoped by the time our children got to school that things might have changed, but in some ways, I don’t think they had at all. There were still teachers who were bullies, stifling and condescending attitudes, and limited resources available.

I don’t think much has changed since they left school either, although education seems to be more of a commercial enterprise focusing on business targets and metrics now rather than actually teaching our children anything useful or giving them opportunities to grow into the people they might imagine they would like to be. It’s sad.

I am sure there are exceptions. There are inspiring teachers, I know a few and there are. But, those teachers are constrained and constricted by forces beyond their control. I just hope that the bullying and negative attitudes of my old art “teacher” have been pushed out of the system by all those metrics and the business head…I can almost feel from here that they haven’t but one can hope.

Waterloo sunset’s fine, as is Norwegian Wood

I’ve got another gig performing for local seniors. It’ll be an afternoon singalong in a residential carehome, it’ll be fun. I’ve recruited some people I know who will bring guitars and pianos to play and all of whom can sing really well. The last time I did such a gig was a harsh moment of learning.

We were actually a late booking as the proper old-time music band had cancelled a the last minute. We didn’t have any time to pull a setlist together letalone rehearse. I thought…okay…the majority of the audience is in its 70s, same as my parents were and my parents love Buddy Holly, Roy Orbison, ELO, ABBA, oh and The Beatles…so, I thought I’d start with a nice solo acoustic, all gentle like – Norwegian Wood perhaps?

Well, two lines into the song, this old guy at the back who I later learned was 94 heckled us: “Bloody awful! Totally inappropriate!”

It was an odd moment, it threw us. We ploughed into a chorus and brought that song to a rapid close. Babs on piano grabbed her “old-time songbook” and we launched into some stuff from the 30s and 40s, all a bit ad hoc song about bluebirds and nightingales and white cliffs and meeting again. The nonagenarian seemed appeased went back to his cake and ale (it was a party after all). Unfortunately, the youngsters in the front row seemed to be a little restless, they didn’t really want to hear Vera Lynn, they had quite liked The Beatles, that was their era, even if the old guy perceived that band as a bunch of long-haired louts.

We changed tempo again and went for Waterloo Sunset by The Kinks. The ladies on the front weren’t jumping into the moshpit or stage-diving as such, but some were tapping along with their fingers and feet and others were singing a few of the words. The ones they knew and even some of the ones they didn’t. It was a sweet moment. Ol’ Mr Heckler didn’t shout again, he’d been glad-handed by our local MP (Heidi Allen) who was also attending the event as a guest of honour and was to give a speech after we’d done our turn.

As I sang the final refrain of “Waterloo sunset’s fine”, and Barbara echoed with a harmony “Waterloo sunset’s fine”, Heidi caught my eye as she turned from Mr Heckles and gave me a little wink…it was a moment, hah, a musical moment, a meeting of minds, she knew.

Norwegian Wood’s fine too…

I must confess the moment didn’t persuade me to vote Tory, but there’s always a little nod if we encounter each other at other events.

I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me?

Photographing a semi-acoustic guitar

A good friend of mine lent me his ’83 Westone semi-acoustic guitar. It’s a Japanese model, lovely to play, sounds great, it’s almost akin to the quality of the Gibson ES335 on which it is based, although obviously not quite as high quality, but probably a fifth or sixth of the price of those guitars new.

Anyway, I gave it a good workout playing a load of classic riffage – Rush, Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Jethro Tull, Cream, The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, David Bowie, even CHIC. It bears up to quite close aural scrutiny, I might hang on to it for a little while longer…

An anecdote I’ve told for the longest time

Did I tell you about the time I had the solo opener with the choir TyrannoChorus at West Road Concert Hall in Cambridg? Really? I didn’t? Oh, come on, I must have, it was a few years ago now, admittedly. [6th August 2016, ed.]

Well, anyway, I did. We had a special guest compere for the whole of the event the wonderful John Suchet. I introduced him to my parents who had come along to the concert, I think my mother fell in love for the second time…with John. Charmed she was, didn’t wash the cheek he kissed for days afterwards.

Anyway, the concert opener, we’d been rehearsing it for weeks, John introduced the choir to a packed house hashtag #SoldOut. Our pianist, the amazing Tim Lihoreau also off of Classic FM fame, tickled the ivories to give us all our opening notes ready for Mrs L’s cue. And, then we’re in:

“Woah-oh-oh-oh-for the longest time”

We seemed to rattle through it, but I was shaking like a leaf at the front of the stage with a mic and no music or lyrics in front of me, and although the soloist leads the conductor who leads the choir, I made the big mistake of glance at Mrs L for vocal validation…and although this Billy Joel song follows a nice narrative arc, I stumbled over the opening to the third verse. Had to back pedal and just repeated a line that ought not to have been repeated until we were back into the chorus and I’m finishing on that octave leap to middle C.

Then, it was over. And most people applauded. It was fun. John thanked me, mentioned that I do a bit of science writing in between gigs. I still tell the tale…did you notice? Oh, oh, oh, I’ll be telling it forrrr the longest ti-i-i-ime…you can bet on it, Billy.

Bridge of Sighs

I’ve resequenced my latest bunch of songs into a 14-track “album” for streaming/download from BandCamp. At the time of writing, it’s “name your price” which makes it priceless or worthless, depending on your perspective

Bridge of Sighs – An immigrant song
Shifting Sands – Funk rock folk
Running Out of Favours – Doobiesque
When the Beat Hits Your Heart – Funk out
Almost Heaven – Nostalgic Americana, 30 years in the writing
Watch Your Step – Vocal noodles on a Fender Rhodes riff and hiphop beatz
Shooting Waste – Acousto-electric un-southern rock
On reflection -Laid-back, collaborative, blue-eyed soul
The Heat – Get back to the 60s
La Gaffe de P̩niche РElectronica gone wrong
The Spate Gatherers – A modern Geordie folk song
A Northern Boy – What if Billy Joel were a guitarist from Chicago?
C6 Deev – Open tuned instrumental acoustic
One by One – Acoustic rocker starts like Zep, ends up like Coldplay

Streaming users

Digital goods – whether software, music and video files, images, documents – can all be transferred at almost zero cost between users provided they have the appropriate computer system and network connection. Unfortunately, for several industries that relied on copyright control for their profits. The ease with which digital goods can be shared means that once a copy has been unshackled from any copy protection (if one were available) it can be shared very quickly to as many users as wish to have the digital goods.

In the nineteenth century, the sheet music industry suffered a downturn in profits, as copying of paper documents became feasible and musicians and singers could obtain cheap “pirated” copies of the sheet music they needed to perform the music in the home and elsewhere. The recorded music industry suffered a similar downturn in sales of physical media with the invention of the mp3 file and related digital formats that were rapidly pirated and shared on peer-to-peer networks. A parallel industry, emerged that attempted to regain some of the profits by charging users a monthly fee to stream as much music and video as they liked, cutting out the need to search and obtain the files from the P2P networks illicitly.

Writing in the International Journal of Electronic Business, Teresa Fernandes and João Guerra of the Faculty of Economics, at the University of Porto, Portugal, discuss the drivers and deterrents that push people towards or away from such streaming services. Ultimately, to draw people to a paid streaming service, that service must offer an easier alternative to P2P networks and the free availability of almost all digital content to anyone with an internet connection.

The challenge of music streaming services to attract paying subscribers is increasingly difficult, the team writes. Their findings suggest that improving service quality, product features, or catalogue size will be unlikely to persuade those users happy to use pirated content to opt for a paid service. They suggest that the providers must find a way to offer a balance between free and paid content, perhaps through a freemium setup that is common where paying customers get to stream as much music as they like without advertising breaks and have access to the full catalogue. A free service that is easy to use might persuade some people to abandon the pirated content approach and make their listening legitimate. The team’s study hints at how marketing of a freemium or other such service might be successfully differentiated for different user gender and ethnicity.

Fernandes, T. and Guerra, J. (2019) ‘Drivers and deterrents of music streaming services purchase intention’, Int. J. Electronic Business, Vol. 15, No. 1, pp.21—42.

The Spate Gatherers

I was raised in the picturesque fishing village of Cullercoats on the North East coast of England at the southern edge of the ancient county of Northumberland.

NEVER MIND THE WAFFLE, JUMP STRAIGHT TO THE SONG

I recently caught sight of an intriguing painting by Henry Perlee Parker (1795—1873), a Devonport man who married a Woodbridge girl and eventually headed to Newcastle co-founding The Northumberland Institution for the Promotion of the Fine Arts. The painting I saw was of women, Cullercoats fishwives, handling the catch from the local fishing boats known as cobles and temporarily storing it in tidal pools to keep it fresh while they gathered the rest of their catch for the creels.

This sounded like a quaint tail to tell in a modern folk song, but when Cullercoats man Arnold Brunton told me of tales of theft and skullduggery reported in the 19th Century, a quaint Cullercoats tradition took a dark turn making it even more perfect fodder for a folk song. It seems that while the heavy creels were being lugged up the bank to the top of the cliffs by the spate gatherers, the fish left on the spate was often stolen.

One can imagine the rage of the fishermen and the ensuing brawls that might have taken place outside the tiny fisherman’s cottages in the streets above the rocky scarps. Some of those homes have long since fallen into the sea taking with them the ghosts of the spate gatherers and the fishermen. The Spate Gatherers’ story is one of hard lives for both the men and the women. The men had to face the rage of the North Sea, the women had the bairns and the catch to concern them on dry land and the ever-present worry that the menfolk might one day never return, having lingered a little too long with the sirens.

The Spate Gatherers

Well the cobles come in and the fishwives they grin,
and they take on the catch from their man
On the scarp they all stand and they pass hand to hand
To keep the fish fresh as they can

It’s heavier work, than the work in the boats,
the men get to roll with the waves
Singing reels to the sirens away out to sea,
while the wives tread the rocks like they’re slaves

Then they’re lugging a load to the tops of the cliff,
it’s not easy to carry a creel
Well, it’s only a catch, but it’s fresh and it’s naturally
feeding the bairns; dance a reel!

Singing aye-diddle-aye-dai, aye-diddle-aye-dee,
A spate gatherer’s life’s not for me
Singing aye-iddle-aye-dai, aye-diddle-aye-dee
Give’uz the easier life out at sea

There’s a scratching of slate with the numbers, the date,
then they carry it south ’round the bay
They scrape over the pier and then disappear
from the view of those hiding away

What’s kept in the pools north of Jakey’s and scrapes,
is enough to pay for wor rent
But the bastards dive down and they take it to town,
another load slips through the net

Now, the tide’s on the turn and the lads they return
And they know who it is that’s to blame
With their beer inside ’em and no lack of pride, them’ll
kick two shades of spate out of them!

What was the first commercially available digital synthesizer?

Fellow science writer Michael Gross recently realised (on a visit to a museum) that the Casio VL-Tone, VL-1, he owned. It was a sort of whimsical-seeming hybrid between calculator and musical instrument but was actually the first commercially available digital synthesizer. He tweeted and blogged about it, and did some video with his still working VL-1.

It gave me such nostalgia pangs as I too had the VL-1 with its ADSR (Attack, Decay, Sustain, Release) digital sound envelope modelling. Indeed I remember as a kid pestering my parents to buy me one for Christmas, which they did, thank goodness, what would I have done without it? That and my sister’s cast-off classical guitar.

I dug mine out along with my old school programmable calculator fx-180p (one of the first). The calculator is still working, same batteries I had all those years ago (the best part of 40 years ago, in fact).

The VL-1 was battery operated but I seem to remember saving up to buy the power supply, which was expensive at the time, but far cheaper than the endless stream of 4x HP7 (double-A) torch batteries.

Aside from the ADSR, wich let you create your own weird sounds, the VL-1 also let you record a short melody and have it play up to four times in a row. It was almost a sequencer! I misremembered it having a quantization function, it didn’t but what it did have were two standalone keys that let you tap the time of a melody that you had recorded without having to finger the actual notes on the keyboard, which meant (if you weren’t a pianist) that you could get a better rhythm going.

I always wanted to be able to tape from the VL-1 and had a dodgy DIN cable that was so pathetic all I ever got into my Bush stereo cassette player was hiss and electrical noise. I was certainly not going to compete with Neue Deutsche Welle band Trio and their VL-1 hit “Da Da Da”.

So, today, having fired up the VL-1 I recorded a quick burst of the opening bars of Tubular Bells, which if I remember rightly are three bars of 9/8 time followed by a 13/8. Played it back into my USB musical interface and then processed it, just a tad in my mixing software. The upper one plays the wet mix, the lower one the dry, unprocessed, piano tone as it comes out of the Casio VL-1.

Wet tone:

Dry tone:

Oh, and here’s my old calculator spelling out the hilarious punchline of a classic calculator joke.

Also in the same treasure trove…a big box at the back of a cupboard…was a barely used Psion Organiser that I won when I sent a computer tip to a magazine around about 1989.

And, then there was my old Sanyo dictaphone, which I used to take with me to interview various academics and industrialists when I freelanced for the likes of New Scientist, Science, Chemistry & Industry and all those others back in the 1990s.