Doing the Dumb and the Difficult

TL: DR: Waiting hurts more than doing.

Like you, I thought we’d be back to “normal” by now. But, this IS the normal. If only there was a date on the calendar where everything would reopen and stay open. I wrote a song about it, in fact! ;)

“I haven’t picked up my guitar in five months.” “I’m just trying to hang on.” “I’m overwhelmed, grateful, and discouraged.” “I’ve let fear of failure hold me back.” “My motivation just disappeared.”

These are real quotes from real clients and colleagues of mine, past and present. They completed the free, no-obligation "2021 Planning Survey” that I launched earlier this month. Their responses floored me. (You can take the survey here!)

Having places to perform and dates on the calendar gives us a sense of control, organization, purpose, and hope. When those guardrails aren’t there, it’s natural to feel like it’s not even worth picking up the guitar, writing down a lyric, taking a class on Zoom, or singing in the car. Why bother getting better just to play to your own four walls?

I invite you to stop comparing the current “Normal” to last year’s “Normal,” except in one way that might hurt a little:

The reasons you’re not making music now were there a year ago.

Blame the pandemic for ruining a lot of things, but you can’t blame it for taking away your ability to make music. You still have the ability. However, it might be buried under a lot of self-imposed conditions.

If you were only motivated by playing at open mics, you’re lost without them. If you are busy thinking about how to get everything done and don’t have room or time to practice in your crowded house — you had a variation on that excuse in 2019, too (I sure did). If you depended on auditions to give you a reason to learn a new song, then yeah, you’re out of reasons.

And if you still think Zoom and Facebook Live are the only ways you can make music online, you’re screwed. Yeah, I said it. I have spent most of this pandemic trying to show you and everyone I know that there are musical alternatives that let you play live, in collaboration with other players and in front of an audience. Are you listening? :)

Stop waiting for someone or something to sanction your musical activity. It’s in your power to play right now. Just like a certain other activity that usually gets more enjoyable even when you’re not initially in the mood, you can get into the mood for music. No candles or special lighting needed!

Step One: Do something you think is dumb. Set a timer and play three scales in one minute, then put the guitar down until tomorrow. Play wrong notes on purpose. Find a warmup video on YouTube (this one is only two minutes long!) and sing along badly, then turn it off and throw in another load of laundry. Sing, but don’t sing in your own voice. Sing in your best Kermit The Frog voice. Then do a Marilyn Monroe voice. Keep it short, and keep it dumb. Take all the risk out of it so you can put the fun back into it.

Step Two: Do something you think is difficult. Take the workshop about how to use online music tech. Come to the songwriting seminar. Do morning pages in “The Artist’s Way.” Buy a microphone for your laptop on Amazon and record cover songs. Let your kids teach you how to use social media so you can share your performing. Listen to a new Spotify channel of music you really dislike, and find two good things about it. Audition for my next studio album, even if you don’t like country music! Take a big risk. Don’t wait for months on end, in the hopes of going back to before. Normal is now.

Doing the dumb and the difficult works in and out of pandemics. Short, stupid music actitives keep you from feeling overwhelmed. Undertaking something big makes you feel like the rock star you actually are. Bring musical mojo back into your life by changing your expectations. It feels a lot better than missing what’s already gone.

Audition for The ECMS Country Album here.

Do you really need a voice teacher?

TL; DR: Maybe, maybe not.

After a promising start in middle school, my performing career was going nowhere. My confidence had been shaken when I, the upstart who stole the show in “Coming Of Age” in Seventh Grade, was totally shut out of “You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown” in Eighth Grade. I didn’t look or sound like a Lucy or a Sally and that’s all that was available. I was crestfallen. My mom thought, “Let’s get her some voice lessons and see if that helps.” And sure enough, two months after I started studying with Prof. Paul Hickfang of Ohio State University, I was singing “As Long As He Needs Me” in a transposed key at the spring choir concert. Voice lessons work!, I thought. I kept taking them.

Most of the singers who come for a Hello Session with me are frustrated a little bit vocally, and a whole lot professionally. They audition for the same few shows in the same few theaters. They get feedback like “sorry, there were just so many good people for only a few parts.” They love singing with their choir friends but they’re bored to death with the material, and the soloists always get hired from outside, anyway. Their audition experiences are tedious or terrifying and they rarely have the right songs in their audition books. They aren’t sure open mics are for them, either. They don’t look like Jasmin in “Aladdin Jr.” so they get cast as a townsperson, again. They’re singing the wrong music, at the wrong venue, for the wrong reasons, in the wrong key, at the wrong time.

Can a voice teacher solve all of these problems? No. You need a voice teacher AND a vocal coach, career counselor, repertoire specialist, talented pianist, talent agent, director, public relations person. And a drill sergeant. Voice lessons will build your voice, but what you really need is to expand your options. That takes a lot of additional skills and support. I didn’t get that help when I was thirteen and struggling to find my way to the mic, and it’s still a challenge to find it now.

You don’t need a voice teacher. You need an “All-Of-The-Above” teacher who can not only tell you to stop using “Hallelujah” to audition for The Music Man (please stop using “Hallelujah” altogether, okay?) but can also tell you to abstain from local theater auditions altogether, pull out the ukulele, and get working on the EP that’s been swimming around in your brain for a few years. And can then spend the second half of your lesson helping you write a song.

You need a voice teacher who can help you arrange your cover song setlist so you don’t get vocally tired in the middle, and help you find open mic venues that don’t have a six-hour waiting list. Or teach you how to livestream and avoid the lines altogether.

You need a voice teacher who can help you write, arrange, and record your songs in keys and styles that work for your voice, help you release them, and coach you as you take them on the road. Who can help you organize your vocal interests so you really can do it all.

You need a voice teacher who tells you it’s okay to quit choir, and then gives you a chance to sing rock and roll with her studio band. Someone who can also say, “check out this Italian aria from the 18th century, I think it would be a great way for you to work on your falsetto for that Prince song.”

You need a voice teacher who understands not only your voice but YOU. Someone who sees options and possibilities that you can’t see for yourself. Someone who helps you create a musical life that celebrates who you are and points you where you’re heading.

If you can find all of this in a voice teacher . . . .well, it’s nice to meet you! ;) Let’s get going. Book an online Hello Session with me here.

Unaccompanied Minors

"They want me to sing sixteen bars a cappella," the student says as we start to prepare her for the audition. "What?" I ask. "No pianist?"

"No music at all, just me singing," she says.

What I'm thinking: "But you're auditioning for Fiona from Shrek! In the show you will have to belt high D-flats. How will they know you can do it? As your voice teacher, I know that having the musical score underneath helps you nail those notes. Unless the music director has perfect pitch or has a tuner handy, they won't know if you (or any other singer) can sing the notes the score requires you to sing. This is stupid. I can't believe you're expected to audition a cappella for a show that will have a full orchestra in the pit. That's like signing a baseball player to the team after he walks the bases, or telling McDonald's to cook your Quarter Pounder medium rare.

“So they don't want to pay a pianist for auditions, or they don't have access to a piano in the audition room? Okay. You mean to tell me that no one in your drama organization can figure out how to provide you with a karaoke track to give you at least a little support? Well here, I took 25 seconds and found it on YouTube, and now I'm playing it on my phone at high volume. You can do this at the audition, if they'll let you. Or at least listen to it right before you go in. Definitely buy a chromatic tuner app, which can give you a secure starting pitch.

“I don't blame you, student. I blame American Idol and Pitch Perfect, which have made a cappella auditions seem cool. In fact, a cappella auditions are often terrible and they make iffy and nervous singers sound horrid. Even professional singers can sound slightly unsupported and shaky in an a cappella format, without the bass line and melody of the score to balance out the voice. Most amateur singers don't know how to edit a song for a cappella performance. The singer continues to "hear" the melody of the accompaniment in their heads and they unwittingly include it, but the auditioners only hear awkward silence, and that ruins the energy of an otherwise good audition. Who thought this was a great idea for less experienced kids and teen singers?

I can't believe that in addition to teaching notes and rhythms and performance skills, I now have to teach you how to sing an accompanied song unaccompanied, just because someone thought it would be "easier." I just have to cross my fingers and hope that you sing the correct pitches in your audition. It stinks because I know that pitch accuracy matters, every time you open your mouth. Ultimately you will be singing with accompaniment, so you have to sing what's written. But your auditioners won't know if you're accurate or not (or if anyone else is, either). You could be vocally perfect for this part and sing a flawless audition, but you could easily lose out to someone who actually can't sing the role at performance time. GREAT IDEA, A CAPPELLA."

What I say: "Okay, here's your starting note. Go."

My video on how to nail an a cappella audition.

How To Carry A Tune In A Bucket

More "Terrible Singers" lists later, but first . . . .

Q: Is It true that some people can't carry a tune in a bucket? Are some people born not to sing?

A: NO. Some people are born with a natural ability to sing, and some aren't. But everyone can learn, everyone can improve. Everyone can sing. 

I'll add to that: I think everyone WANTS to sing.

I recently worked with a gentleman who was finally taking voice lessons for the first time ever. He loved music but had no idea how to make his voice work. "Mom said I sounded best when I kept my mouth shut!" he said with a steely laugh. The joking masked real frustration and pain at not being able to sing like he wanted. He couldn't reach high notes, and couldn't find the low notes. He could hear and recognize a melody, but he couldn't get his voice to follow it. So he made sound wherever sound could be made, even if that meant singing the same same couple of notes over and over again, like a drone.

In childhood, he was not an accurate singer, but he was loud -- until he was told to shut up. He was made to stand in the back of the group, to step away from the microphone. He mouthed the words of the carol, while everyone else actually sang. In adulthood, he sang with bar bands and in ad-hoc groups, and tolerated the jokes and razzing when his bad singing was noticed. No one cared how he sang "Sweet Caroline."But then came something awful and wonderful: His child sang with freedom and accuracy and happiness, and he longed to have that same joy. Finally, the pain of singing poorly was greater than the pain of judgment.

For the technically challenged singer, just taking a voice lesson is an incredible leap of faith. My job is to reward that trust with gentle, supportive coaching on breathing, pitch matching, and listening. We focus on making accurate sounds, strengthening the connections between brain and ears, throat and lungs. I make sure the abdominal muscles aren't too tight or too loose to support a tone. I use a tuner to help pitch-challenged ears locate and match the sounds I play on the piano, or the tones I sing (some singers can hear voices better than they hear pianos). Progress can be quick, but usually it's a few extra notes here, a little more freedom there, adding up over time. I record the lessons so the singers realize they are, in fact, progressing. They are always amazed at the new sounds they can make. (It makes me happy too!)

A newly strengthened voice can explore very easy songs, or short sections of beloved songs that have formerly been out of reach and out of range. We talk honestly about what's technically possible now and what might happen later on with improving skills. The best part is, we start to think about singing in a whole new way. No more dismissal, no more embarrassment, no more despair. Like every other person on the planet, this person is a singer. This person can sing.

I Knew They Were Terrible Singers! Part 3

And so we continue with I Knew They Were Terrible Singers!, where I explain the vocal sins committed by the singers you can't stand to hear. (Part One) (Part Two)

One of my eight blog readers begged, "Do Lana Del Rey. Please." Okay. All I knew of Del Rey was the media coverage of her lackluster appearance on Saturday Night Live several years ago. So I watched a bunch of her videos on YouTube. Her videos are mini-epics that are superior to her pedestrian voice, which reminds me of Mama Cass in range but not in musicality. I wonder if Del Rey is popular because she is one of the few girl singers who's not belting and autotuning to the high heavens. In that way, she is a welcome relief. Every morose maiden can sing Del Rey with little to no effort, for that's how she sings too -- undersupported and under energized. I'd bet money that she told her first voice teacher she was "really more of an alto." Her range is low, small, and finite, which means every song sounds the same. While her tone is clear, her lack of vocal hustle results in some chronic nasality. Lana Del Rey sounds like she needs cheering up.

Kim Carnes: A voice as pure as New York snow.

"Bette Davis Eyes"isunsingable unless you are recovering from laryngitis, which is what Kim Carnes sounded like on her best day (But oh, she could whip that hair!). That gravely, wooly sound is her vocal folds coming together unevenly. It must be an injury from a long time ago. It seems to be happening throughout her range -- I don't hear a clear sound anywhere, except in a few brief head voice moments. She struggles to sing many interval leaps -- but in this song, I think it's less of a vocal problem than a conscious choice. Carnes' disabled voice got her a Grammy for Record of the Year in 1981. Call me contrary, but Carnes' quirky, weathered voice suited lyrics that celebrated a one-of-a-kind actress. Gwyneth Paltrow sang the song in a movie once -- her rendition is clear and controlled, her pitch is accurate . .. and it's totally unmemorable. Carnes has been married to the same guy since 1967 and she's still writing songs in Nashville, isn't that great? Terrible singer, but hopefully a happy songwriter.

Rod Stewart: Do Ya Think I'm Scratchy?

Carnes is often compared to Rod Stewart, the uncrowned King Of Raspy Singers. To me, Joe Cocker sounds like a hot mess, but Rod Stewart sounds far hotter. It's his material, of course -- the vocal range of his songs is higher, the tempo of many songs is faster. Stewart readily admits his voice is fragile, and when I listen to him I mostly hear the damage. I can listen to his early stuff but not his newer recordings. I like reading about Stewart, far more than listening to him. Stewart is a thyroid cancer survivor, which is of course wonderful -- but he has also admitted to taking loads of manhood-shrinking steroids to soothe his swollen throat after abusing it in performance. Don't let it happen to you, kids! Cher really is more of an alto. That's fine, but she also drawls her vowels, which leads her to sing with a very swallowed sound. You either love her or . . .you don't. Compare Cher to Tina Turner in this clip from Cher's solo variety show (after she divorced Sonny). They sing the same notes, but the sound is totally different. That's not just because they're two different singers, it's also because there are two different approaches to singing a particular phrase. Tina keeps her voice in a more "forward" sounding position and nasalizes words, while Cher goes straight back.If I could turn back time, I'd never hear her version if "It's In His Kiss." Ever.

Proud Mary with Half Breed

Who should we talk about next? Jewel? Stevie Nicks? Shakira? Cat Stevens? Contact me with your nominations and I'll commence this Very Important Research.

UPDATE in APRIL 2020: I’ve gotten some impassioned email from all over the world thanks to these blog posts. Stalwart lovers of Cher and Benny Mardones, THANK YOU for helping me improve my SEO, haters! Have I offended your favorite singer? Go ahead, share these posts and tell everyone you know how wrong I am! ;)

I Knew They Were Terrible Singers! (Part Deux)

It's time for another round of "I Knew They Were Terrible Singers!", where I explain the bad vocal technique behind the songs I've never liked -- and even some songs I do like. This week, I'm including some nominations from you, my Eight Blog Readers! (Read Part One of the series here.)

1. Benny Mardones, Into The Night: It was one of the few songs to hit the Top 20 twice in the same decade -- 1980 and 1989. I liked the beginning of the song, but Mardones' highest pitches were produced with scratchy strained vocal folds, and that really turned me off. It sounded like screaming then, and it still does today. It's unfortunate, because when he sings "If I could fly, I'd pick you up," he has a lovely head voice "oo" sound on the word you. Only a few notes later, he sings "and you a love" on the same pitch (B flat), and the vowel is gravelly and the throat is tight. Head voice would have sounded better. I couldn't imagine any girl accepting an "Into The Night" serenade; maybe that's why I didn't date much in high school. (Watch the video, made a year before MTV started! It has an Aladdin concept and everything!)

Stay on pitch, Natalie!

2. When she was with 10,000 Maniacs, Natalie Merchant's voice moved unevenly between her chest register and mixed chest and head register. In "Like The Weather" you can hear how some notes sound very swallowed and dark while slightly higher pitches are bright and pinched. But it was her pitchiness that drove me nuts. Merchant always allowed a pitch drop-off at the ends of phrases, partly for effect and partly because she ran out of breath. Also, what are the words in "Like The Weather?" I still have no idea. This kind of lazy, louche singing happened a lot in the grungy '90s. (I like Wonder. I can understand the words and she commits far fewer vocal sins.) (And I love her gray hair now.)

3. Aaron Neville was nominated by one of my readers. Good call! In order to extract a tenor range Neville has to engage in some vocal fracking, extracting a sound through a tense chest, neck and jaw. The tension is so great, his head and chin jerk with the effort of moving from note to note. Watch the clip with the sound turned off to see for yourself. Neville might not have enough air in his lungs to sing more than a few notes comfortably, so he sings lots of teeny tiny melodic lines instead and grabs a shallow breath between them. When you don't have enough air in your lungs, your throat will squeeze to try to help you finish the phrase your brain started. (Oh, whatever. I still love this song and remember it from the movie The Big Easy! I just can't watch Neville when he sings it!)

You don't need extraneous movements, Joe!

4. Vocally, Joe Cocker was Aaron Neville to the infinite power, with some laryngitis thrown in. Joe Cocker's voice proves again that a ruin can be charming. His raspy, breathy, gravelly voice was the result of damaged vocal folds not closing together completely and properly. Might be drugs, might be cigarettes, might be illness, might be all of the above. He swore the jerky body swings are not related to his singing or breathing, but how could they not be? Stiffness and rigidity in the limbs and shoulders is going to affect the voice. As with Neville, I think it's a way of trying to force sound out through a very tight throat and damaged folds. Watch what John Belushi had to do to imitate him, back when Saturday Night Live was funny. Have you ever tried to imitate Joe Cocker? It's exhausting. But millions of people are still happy to watch Joe Cocker be Joe Cocker. 

Each of these singers has had a great career while committing mortal vocal sins that I would try to remove or ameliorate in a voice lesson -- shows how much I know, right? But young singers routinely come into my studio and imitate singers by imitating their vocal problems  . . and I have to tell them all the reasons why it's not wise to do that. 

If you've ever wondered why a certain singer's voice makes you want to plug your ears, you just might have an appreciation for good vocal technique, and a normal sense of outrage when standards are violated. Yay you!

The ballot box is still open . . nominate your least favorite singers or songs and I'll tell you why your ears are crying.

Ready for more? Read Part Three of this series!

I Knew They Were Terrible Singers!

A Three Part Series! Part Two Part Three Back in the 1980s I listened to pop music just as much as any other teen. My favorite singers included Olivia Newton-John, Linda Ronstadt, Al Jarreau and the Manhattan Transfer. I also developed a blacklist of songs and singers that just sounded wrong to me. Back then, I probably dismissed the offender with a casual, "Eew! I just hate that song!" and turned the dial. Now I can see that my teen ears were often just reacting to some very bad vocal technique. Here, a few of the few songs I couldn't stand when they first came out, and the vocal reasons why. The awful videos are just a bonus!

Place In This World: Michael W. Smith was a very popular Christian artist in the 1980s and 1990s and this was a crossover hit for him. Listen to that raspiness, especially on the choruses. This sound is the vocal equivalent of a three-day beard -- it could be totally on purpose, or just a lack of (vocal) hygiene. He pronounces place as "pleece" because if he sang "place" he'd never hit the pitch. Try and do it yourself. Once.

Madonna has Lived To Tell

Live To Tell, Madonna: Her first hit, "Borderline," featured a very bright, nasal voice and a light timbre -- so light, I could sing it easily and often did, and I really liked her for that reason. That, and the neon heels with socks. In this song, the melody is about an octave lower and Madonna is singing with a very dark, covered, almost swallowed sound. She's also trying to carry her chest voice higher and is straining to do so. At the slumber party we could all sing "Borderline" with a brush for a microphone, but no one wanted to sing "Live To Tell." I heard her sing it live on a concert video few years back, and she has improved. Keep up the lessons, Madonna, you may get somewhere!

Keep On Loving You, REO Speedwagon: I've hated this song "fereverrr." Every choir teacher on earth begs their singers to drop the final 'r's in words, because if you sing an 'r,' it sounds like nerdy and immature and sort of like .  . . . Kevin Cronin of REO Speedwagon.

Heaven Is A Place On Earth, Belinda Carlisle: Vibrato tighter than her jeans. (But very cool eyeliner.) A too-fast vibrato can be an indication of vocal tension, or inadequate breath support. Carlisle's veers very close to tremolo, which sounds almost like a vocal tremble. At least it does to my ears. She sang that way when she fronted the Go-Gos too, but she sang in a higher range then. As a solo artist, she sang in lower keys and the fast vibrato was more noticeable to me.

Oh, there are more. And you have your own vocal transgressors to accuse. Tell me what you hate, and I'll tell you . . why.

Read Part Two of the series here. Read Part Three of the series here.

Ornamenting and "oversouling"

My True Love brought an article to my attention, laughing as he clicked "forward." It was a reaction to Christina Aguilera's unfortunate Lyrical Malfunction at the Super Bowl (poor girl) while singing the National Anthem, but it was also about pop singers' tendency to "oversoul" the melody -- the singer adds quick lines of decorative notes and musical frills between the actual melodic notes, overdoing it to the point the melody is an afterthought. Exhibit A: Mariah Carey oversouling Hero. (Also note Mariah's fluttering right hand -- it oversouls right along with her.) Exhibit B: This completely desecrated version of a famous Christmas song.

In classical music we have vocal decorations known as ornaments. In the Baroque era especially, singers would add embellishments all over the melodies. Even now, coloraturas like me are expected to tastefully ornament our most famous repertoire. First composed on the spot by the singer, the most successful embellishements were written down and are now considered standard.

Classical ornaments tend to happen after a melody has been introduced "plain." They highlight the fact that the melody is on its second hearing. Ornaments tend to be used at the very highest point of a phrase or to end musical idea and launch into another one -- they are not scattered in the middle and they are usually very clearly stated. Classical singers try, but they can't over-ornament much because conductors and pianists can instantly stop them with the crash of a chord. Classical singers can be guilty of choosing the wrong ornaments (or just executing good ones badly), but because so much of the repertoire is standard, the ornaments are part of the vocal furniture now and are practiced carefully, and rarely moved. I've composed a few ornaments for myself, borrowing a bit from this singer and that score, but I'm careful to remember melody first.

Ornaments are for tasteful classical singing, oversouling is the sin of pop divas, but the technical term for all singer-driven note addition is melisma. Melisma has been around as long as there has been singing. (Show me a singer and I'll show you someone willing to mess around with a melody.) But, it isn't always the right thing to do, unless you know when to stop. When my voice students ask if they can do it. I usually say no, at least not while I'm watching. Good melisma can be an indicator of a nice healthy, flexible larynx as well a nice, healthy ego. Bad melisma reveals breaks in the voice caused by laryngeal tension. For examples of bad melisma and criminal oversouling, watch American Idol, Seasons One through Twenty.

Melisma is heard clearly in chants of the Catholic church. A Kyrie ("Lord Have Mercy, Christ Have Mercy, Lord Have Mercy") can contain just a few notes -- or thirty five. They start out with the same couple of notes, but they're quite different after that. I like both versions heard here (there are hundreds more). Sadly, very few Catholic congregations sing either one, those that do restrict it to Lent. (I don't find singing chant during Lent to be penitential at all -- it's like Christmas to me!) It's been my experience that parishioners are attracted to melisma as listeners -- it sounds very showy and emotional -- but they don't dare try to sing it in a group setting. Only the monks and choristers are willing to give it a shot. As a chorister, I would be happy to be the Melisma Representative for any parish that would want one. Too bad so few do.

Here is another Kyrie in English by Marty Haugen, composer of the very well known setting, Mass Of Creation. Note how few notes are used in the melody, and how every word gets a note. I'm not a Marty fan and this Mass setting is sickeningly ubiquitous, but I recognize that he composed something that is singable for the average melisma-phobe. (Oversoulers, feel free to muck up Haugen as much as possible.)

The worst oversouling I ever heard was committed by a high schooler singing Sky Masterson in Guys and Dolls. He oversouled "I'll Know," and the audience was instantly transported from 1950s Gotham to an Usher concert. Thankfully and incredibly, Broadway remains mostly free of oversoul. Hope it stays that way, but I'm not placing bets.

H/T Huffington Post