I'm making progress on What If.
Kind of.
Well, okay, slow progress.
I've been plucking away for about two hours and have succeeded in nailing down a few more chords. The reason those chords are taking so long is that I have to flip a lever right at the transition between the chorus and the next verse. Yay key changes. Trying to work them in is kind of playing Simon on the highest difficulty level but harder.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
My musical nemesis
Repetition. When I'm learning a new song, it's unavoidable. As I mentioned some time ago, I pretty much fail at reading sheet music, so the only way I can really learn is by ear. And the only way to really learn something by ear is to listen to it. Many, many times. And then when I can figure out the fingering, to divvy it up into little sections and play each phrase. Many, many times. When I'm learning a new song, my life becomes the musical equivalent of Groundhog Day.
At the moment I am about halfway through What If by Emilie Autumn, a pretty, flowy kind of tune. I'm veering between the version by this harpist on YouTube (although she's playing pedal, which somewhat screws things up), and the recorded version, twisting my face into bizarre expressions as I struggle to hear the exact notes the piano is playing underneath the layers of strings and vocals. I tell myself that it will be worth it when I can play the full song smoothly. This is what I tell myself as my (bleeding, broken) fingers clamber up that stupid broken A chord for the umpteenth time.
I have already stated that repetition is the best way for me to learn. Unfortunately, the idea of anything repeating endlessly drives me crazy. Stairs. Wallpaper patterns. Carousels. Songs...
So, even though it's in the name of learning a song well, the sound of my own fingers playing the same chords over and over gives me the feeling of being in a recurring nightmare. I must be a masochist, though, because if I'm impatient to learn the song I keep at it, and at it, convinced that just one more repetition will make it perfect.
This must be how people go crazy...
At the moment I am about halfway through What If by Emilie Autumn, a pretty, flowy kind of tune. I'm veering between the version by this harpist on YouTube (although she's playing pedal, which somewhat screws things up), and the recorded version, twisting my face into bizarre expressions as I struggle to hear the exact notes the piano is playing underneath the layers of strings and vocals. I tell myself that it will be worth it when I can play the full song smoothly. This is what I tell myself as my (bleeding, broken) fingers clamber up that stupid broken A chord for the umpteenth time.
I have already stated that repetition is the best way for me to learn. Unfortunately, the idea of anything repeating endlessly drives me crazy. Stairs. Wallpaper patterns. Carousels. Songs...
So, even though it's in the name of learning a song well, the sound of my own fingers playing the same chords over and over gives me the feeling of being in a recurring nightmare. I must be a masochist, though, because if I'm impatient to learn the song I keep at it, and at it, convinced that just one more repetition will make it perfect.
This must be how people go crazy...
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Cars and guitars
A weeks ago, I went to dinner with a good friend of mine at a great local Irish restaurant called the Shanachie. We chatted for a while of this and that. Our food had just arrived when she drew my attention to something unusual.
"Is that Bohemian Rhapsody?" she said suddenly, staring up at the speaker above her head. My spoon, lifted halfway from my bowl of soup, paused in midair as I stopped and listened. Since the Shanachie is basically a pub, the stuff that gets played there tends to be usual jigs'n'reels'n'hornpipes. But this. This was...
"It is," I said, awed. We sat in reverent silence, listening to Queen's classic rock epic being played by fiddles and accordions and tinwhistles. It was demented. And wrong. And possibly one of the coolest things I've ever heard.
After it ended, my friend observed that Bohemian Rhapsody is one of those songs that you just automatically know the words to, regardless of whether or not you're actually into Queen, and you always have to sing along when you hear it.
This got me to thinking about car songs. You have favorite songs, and you have favorite car songs, but they aren't necessarily the same songs. It might be a song by one of your favorite bands, but it might not be the one you would say was your favorite from them. In some cases it's even a band you don't really care for at all.
For instance, I may be flamed for saying this, but I don't really get the hype over Kings of Leon. I don't dislike them, exactly. They seem like a decent band, and I like the singles I've heard, but that's about as far as my interest goes. However, I freely admit that their song Use Somebody is a terrific, cheesy, fist-pumping lighter-waving arena rock anthem. Something about it is so infectious (the conveniently all-inclusive vocal range? the whoa-oa-oa bit? who the hell knows?) that you just have to sing along. And apparently, I'm not the only one who feels that way--everyone from Nickelback to Paramore has been covering the blasted thing lately. (I like the one from Bat for Lashes.)
But what else makes something a good car song? Sometimes it's something you can't sing at all, and therein lies the appeal. Regina Spektor's song Fidelity is like that. Deep down inside you know that nobody can really replicate Regina's vocal acrobatics, but it doesn't stop you from trying. Or with some songs, forget the lead, it's all about the harmonies. Most anything from the Beatles is like that for me.
Sometimes it's just the weirdness factor. I like Amanda Palmer's song Leeds United simply because it allows me to drive around with the windows down, roaring about how the sandwiches are wicked and they know me at the Mac store. I also cheerfully mangle all of the words to Nightwish's song Wishmaster--I've never been able to hear it the same way since I saw this video.
I never did find out who that band was covering Bohemian Rhapsody...
"Is that Bohemian Rhapsody?" she said suddenly, staring up at the speaker above her head. My spoon, lifted halfway from my bowl of soup, paused in midair as I stopped and listened. Since the Shanachie is basically a pub, the stuff that gets played there tends to be usual jigs'n'reels'n'hornpipes. But this. This was...
"It is," I said, awed. We sat in reverent silence, listening to Queen's classic rock epic being played by fiddles and accordions and tinwhistles. It was demented. And wrong. And possibly one of the coolest things I've ever heard.
After it ended, my friend observed that Bohemian Rhapsody is one of those songs that you just automatically know the words to, regardless of whether or not you're actually into Queen, and you always have to sing along when you hear it.
This got me to thinking about car songs. You have favorite songs, and you have favorite car songs, but they aren't necessarily the same songs. It might be a song by one of your favorite bands, but it might not be the one you would say was your favorite from them. In some cases it's even a band you don't really care for at all.
For instance, I may be flamed for saying this, but I don't really get the hype over Kings of Leon. I don't dislike them, exactly. They seem like a decent band, and I like the singles I've heard, but that's about as far as my interest goes. However, I freely admit that their song Use Somebody is a terrific, cheesy, fist-pumping lighter-waving arena rock anthem. Something about it is so infectious (the conveniently all-inclusive vocal range? the whoa-oa-oa bit? who the hell knows?) that you just have to sing along. And apparently, I'm not the only one who feels that way--everyone from Nickelback to Paramore has been covering the blasted thing lately. (I like the one from Bat for Lashes.)
But what else makes something a good car song? Sometimes it's something you can't sing at all, and therein lies the appeal. Regina Spektor's song Fidelity is like that. Deep down inside you know that nobody can really replicate Regina's vocal acrobatics, but it doesn't stop you from trying. Or with some songs, forget the lead, it's all about the harmonies. Most anything from the Beatles is like that for me.
Sometimes it's just the weirdness factor. I like Amanda Palmer's song Leeds United simply because it allows me to drive around with the windows down, roaring about how the sandwiches are wicked and they know me at the Mac store. I also cheerfully mangle all of the words to Nightwish's song Wishmaster--I've never been able to hear it the same way since I saw this video.
I never did find out who that band was covering Bohemian Rhapsody...
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Shiny new music
A quick natter to announce my excitement over the upcoming release from the Codeine Velvet Club. Strangely enough, it's another male-female vocal team, but it's a very different feel from the Paper Raincoat. It's a collaboration between Jon Fratelli (who happens to be the lead singer of a certain band I love) and Lou Hickey, who I hadn't heard of previously but she's got some great pipes. In Jon's e-mail that got sent 'round to people on the Fratellis' mailing list, he described it as "kitchen-sink music," and that's as good a description as any. Part of me likes musicians who favor a stripped-down acoustic sound, but another part of me really loves bands that go completely over the top and throw in everything but the kitchen sink (small wonder that I also love Within Temptation). Judging from the preview songs, these guys definitely belong in the second category. I'm such a sucker for a great horn section...
Check 'em out.
Check 'em out.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Tori at Tower
Last night I went to see Tori Amos perform at the Tower Theatre. My dislike of the latest album notwithstanding, she still puts on one hell of a show. My impressions, somewhat jumbled:
-Choirgirl got a lot of love this time around with three songs ("Black-Dove," "Hotel," and "Northern Lad"), which made me happy as it's still my favorite album of hers.
-Neat idea to follow up "Northern Lad" with "Cars and Guitars." Admittedly I was never over the moon about the latter, but it's a cute lyrical tie-in to go from "guess you go too far when pianos try to be guitars" to "but it never was the cars and guitars that came between us."
-I discovered hearing "Starling" live that I actually like it. Who ever would have guessed?
-The biggest surprise of the night was easily "Strong Black Vine." How she managed to turn an unimpressive three-minute song into a blazing eight-minute epic is beyond me.
Finally, a small note to the opening act, One Eskimo:
I liked you guys. You've got a nice mellow sound and the trumpet is pretty cool. However, you may want to rethink your set list. When you're the opening band and your song prominently features the lyric "can I have your attention pleeeeeease," especially when that line is voiced in falsetto, it just makes me giggle.
-Choirgirl got a lot of love this time around with three songs ("Black-Dove," "Hotel," and "Northern Lad"), which made me happy as it's still my favorite album of hers.
-Neat idea to follow up "Northern Lad" with "Cars and Guitars." Admittedly I was never over the moon about the latter, but it's a cute lyrical tie-in to go from "guess you go too far when pianos try to be guitars" to "but it never was the cars and guitars that came between us."
-I discovered hearing "Starling" live that I actually like it. Who ever would have guessed?
-The biggest surprise of the night was easily "Strong Black Vine." How she managed to turn an unimpressive three-minute song into a blazing eight-minute epic is beyond me.
Finally, a small note to the opening act, One Eskimo:
I liked you guys. You've got a nice mellow sound and the trumpet is pretty cool. However, you may want to rethink your set list. When you're the opening band and your song prominently features the lyric "can I have your attention pleeeeeease," especially when that line is voiced in falsetto, it just makes me giggle.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Sunny sounds from a paper raincoat
Now that that's out of my system, back to the subject I had intended to write about: The Paper Raincoat. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I first heard of them when they opened for Vienna Teng a few months ago, and now that I've seen them as headliners (upstairs at the World Cafe), I decided they needed a post of their own. Now, I quite understand if quirky indie "folktronic" (as CDBaby dubs it) isn't your cup of tea, but if it does sound appealing to you, then this duo deserves your attention. Why?
1. Alex and Amber are both already seasoned performers, and it shows. They're comfortable with each other on stage and their voices blend like they were always supposed to sing together (think Deb Talan and Steve Tannen of the Weepies, or Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova of the Swell Season).
2. They're both experienced songwriters (Alex has a couple of albums as part of the Animators, among other things, and Amber's recorded two albums and an EP), and this shows in the quality of the lyrics. According to Alex, the idea for the song "Motion Sickness" originated with an inner ear infection that caused him to keep losing his balance (resulting in much hilarity on the part of his friends). And apparently he thought the experience was a good metaphor for any kind of transition. The hook is a simple phrase: "it just takes some getting used to." Simple, but it could apply to a whole range of experiences, so almost anyone can relate - that, to me, is smart songwriting.
3. Creative instrumentation, both recorded and onstage. On recordings, their sound veers a little more toward the electronic and is aided by string arrangements, but live shows are an interesting meld of acoustic and electronic elements. Keyboards, guitar and a drum kit form the base, but odd sound samples, xylophones, tambourine and a vast assortment of unidentifiable percussive things keep it from ever being boring. Audience participation is a big part of their shows as well. Expect to do a lot of clapping, singing, and (if they decide to grab you out of your seat during "It All Depends") playing tambourine.
Sound interesting? Check out their EP Safe in the Sound (at iTunes and Myspace) and be on the lookout for their first full release in October.
A caveat: If you want depression and rage, you'll have to look elsewhere. Their music is unavoidably and pretty much constantly cheery.
1. Alex and Amber are both already seasoned performers, and it shows. They're comfortable with each other on stage and their voices blend like they were always supposed to sing together (think Deb Talan and Steve Tannen of the Weepies, or Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova of the Swell Season).
2. They're both experienced songwriters (Alex has a couple of albums as part of the Animators, among other things, and Amber's recorded two albums and an EP), and this shows in the quality of the lyrics. According to Alex, the idea for the song "Motion Sickness" originated with an inner ear infection that caused him to keep losing his balance (resulting in much hilarity on the part of his friends). And apparently he thought the experience was a good metaphor for any kind of transition. The hook is a simple phrase: "it just takes some getting used to." Simple, but it could apply to a whole range of experiences, so almost anyone can relate - that, to me, is smart songwriting.
3. Creative instrumentation, both recorded and onstage. On recordings, their sound veers a little more toward the electronic and is aided by string arrangements, but live shows are an interesting meld of acoustic and electronic elements. Keyboards, guitar and a drum kit form the base, but odd sound samples, xylophones, tambourine and a vast assortment of unidentifiable percussive things keep it from ever being boring. Audience participation is a big part of their shows as well. Expect to do a lot of clapping, singing, and (if they decide to grab you out of your seat during "It All Depends") playing tambourine.
Sound interesting? Check out their EP Safe in the Sound (at iTunes and Myspace) and be on the lookout for their first full release in October.
A caveat: If you want depression and rage, you'll have to look elsewhere. Their music is unavoidably and pretty much constantly cheery.
Sometimes there just aren't any words.
I just snagged a VIP ticket to an Emilie Autumn show in October.
Which means I get to meet her before the show.
I have no idea how I did this. Normally I'm always too late for these things.
Holy crap.
Which means I get to meet her before the show.
I have no idea how I did this. Normally I'm always too late for these things.
Holy crap.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
You knew this was coming...
Ah yes, the last resort of the blogger with nothing to blog about... a meme. The good old turn-on-music-player-of-choice-and-list-the-first-30-songs etc... It's been done, but hey, there are probably some interesting things buried in my library.
1. You Can Bring Your Dog (live in Philly) - Tori Amos
2. I Don't Love You - My Chemical Romance (The video for this is one big WTF moment. It probably wasn't their intent, but it cracks me up every time I see it, especially the girl with the freaky anime-huge eyes. And Gerard's emoting.)
3. We Never Change - Coldplay
4. Nina - The Fratellis
5. Love Turns 40 - Vienna Teng (See, this is good. I forgot how much I love this song...)
6. Flowers and Football Tops - Glasvegas (Depressing as hell. Oh wait, that's the whole album...)
7. Mary Blaize - Kate Rusby
8. Godspeed - Jenny Lewis
9. Instead of My Saints - Thea Gilmore
10. She Has No Time - Keane (Saw these guys live recently. Good show.)
11. What If - Emilie Autumn (The only thing that bothered me about Opheliac was the lack of songs like this. Just lovely.)
12. What's the Use of Wond'rin? - Amanda Palmer (Quietly pretty and utterly creepy at the same time. Kudos Amanda.)
13. How We Fight - The Animators
14. The Islander - Nightwish (Nightwish attempts to do Irish and halfway succeeds. Also serves as a reminder that oh yeah, Marco can actually sing.)
15. Famous Last Words (live) - My Chemical Romance (Talking of people who can actually sing, check the awesome backing vocals from Ray here. Way to hit the high notes, dude.)
16. Not Dying Today - Tori Amos ("Neil is thrilled he can claim he's mammalian/But the bad news he said girl you're a dandelion/Well I need to think about that/Well I thought about that and I said, what the hell?" My sentiments exactly, Tori. I think I might actually hate this song more than "Ireland," and that's saying something.)
17. Neverending Story - Within Temptation (Not one of my favs by them. It's cute and happy... therefore I usually skip it.)
18. Cemeteries of London - Coldplay
19. Precious Things (live from To Venus and Back) - Tori Amos (Tori is taking over this playlist. Luckily this is one of the best live renditions of this song maybe ever, though I also like the one from Sessions at West 54th.)
20. Neighborhood #4 (Kettles) - The Arcade Fire
21. Black Sand - Jenny Lewis
22. Bone Chaos in the Castle - Kaki King
23. Babydoll - The Fratellis (One of their more Beatles-esque moments. Which is a good thing.)
24. The Promise - Within Temptation (Why no more eight-minute epics on recent albums, WT? Although the incredibly fake horn samples at the beginning are somewhat cringe-inducing.)
25. Game Shows Touch Our Lives - The Mountain Goats (Thanks to Sam for pointing these guys out to me. Great lyrics.)
26. Ways & Means - Snow Patrol
27. Sunday's Waltz/Solo Double Oh - Solas
28. Amelia - Bell X1
29. Another Year - Amanda Palmer
30. On the Radio - Regina Spektor (One of the most cheerful songs about death I've ever heard.)
1. You Can Bring Your Dog (live in Philly) - Tori Amos
2. I Don't Love You - My Chemical Romance (The video for this is one big WTF moment. It probably wasn't their intent, but it cracks me up every time I see it, especially the girl with the freaky anime-huge eyes. And Gerard's emoting.)
3. We Never Change - Coldplay
4. Nina - The Fratellis
5. Love Turns 40 - Vienna Teng (See, this is good. I forgot how much I love this song...)
6. Flowers and Football Tops - Glasvegas (Depressing as hell. Oh wait, that's the whole album...)
7. Mary Blaize - Kate Rusby
8. Godspeed - Jenny Lewis
9. Instead of My Saints - Thea Gilmore
10. She Has No Time - Keane (Saw these guys live recently. Good show.)
11. What If - Emilie Autumn (The only thing that bothered me about Opheliac was the lack of songs like this. Just lovely.)
12. What's the Use of Wond'rin? - Amanda Palmer (Quietly pretty and utterly creepy at the same time. Kudos Amanda.)
13. How We Fight - The Animators
14. The Islander - Nightwish (Nightwish attempts to do Irish and halfway succeeds. Also serves as a reminder that oh yeah, Marco can actually sing.)
15. Famous Last Words (live) - My Chemical Romance (Talking of people who can actually sing, check the awesome backing vocals from Ray here. Way to hit the high notes, dude.)
16. Not Dying Today - Tori Amos ("Neil is thrilled he can claim he's mammalian/But the bad news he said girl you're a dandelion/Well I need to think about that/Well I thought about that and I said, what the hell?" My sentiments exactly, Tori. I think I might actually hate this song more than "Ireland," and that's saying something.)
17. Neverending Story - Within Temptation (Not one of my favs by them. It's cute and happy... therefore I usually skip it.)
18. Cemeteries of London - Coldplay
19. Precious Things (live from To Venus and Back) - Tori Amos (Tori is taking over this playlist. Luckily this is one of the best live renditions of this song maybe ever, though I also like the one from Sessions at West 54th.)
20. Neighborhood #4 (Kettles) - The Arcade Fire
21. Black Sand - Jenny Lewis
22. Bone Chaos in the Castle - Kaki King
23. Babydoll - The Fratellis (One of their more Beatles-esque moments. Which is a good thing.)
24. The Promise - Within Temptation (Why no more eight-minute epics on recent albums, WT? Although the incredibly fake horn samples at the beginning are somewhat cringe-inducing.)
25. Game Shows Touch Our Lives - The Mountain Goats (Thanks to Sam for pointing these guys out to me. Great lyrics.)
26. Ways & Means - Snow Patrol
27. Sunday's Waltz/Solo Double Oh - Solas
28. Amelia - Bell X1
29. Another Year - Amanda Palmer
30. On the Radio - Regina Spektor (One of the most cheerful songs about death I've ever heard.)
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Abnormally attracted to... mediocrity?
Let me say this first: I'm a fan of Tori Amos. True, I don't happen to think she's a goddess and I don't take her half as seriously as most of her fanbase does, but I do appreciate her music and I enjoy listening to or reading her interviews because she sometimes has interesting things to say about music (and often befuddles the interviewer, which is always fun to watch).
Sadly, Tori albums tend to be hit-or-miss affairs these days. She hasn't produced really great albums for a long time. To be fair, there were some great tracks on those albums, but they were ultimately overpowered by the mediocrity. Her latest, Abnormally Attracted to Sin, continues this unfortunate trend. If she wants to reverse it and start making good albums again, there are two things she's got to work on.
Number one: as another pianist and singer-songwriter says, "You can write, but you can't edit." Tori can't edit. At 17 tracks, AATS is shorter than the 23-track behemoth that is American Doll Posse, but it's still needlessly bloated. Tori has to figure out that sometimes less really is more. In my opinion, her best album was From the Choirgirl Hotel. It only had 12 tracks, but not one of them was a throwaway. In contrast, half the stuff on AATS could easily be labeled "filler." Just like her previous two albums, there are some great songs here. The shimmering, spare "Flavor," the powerful piano outro of "Lady in Blue," the quirky "That Guy" and a few others are all proof of that. But because she either can't or won't edit herself, the good ones get buried beneath tracks like the trite "500 Miles" or the chaotic mess that is "Police Me." Please, Tori, either get better at editing yourself or get somebody who isn't afraid to say no to you.
Number two: be more genuine. This album is a tired rehashing of every theme she's ever covered. I cringe every time I hear "Strong Black Vine" because it's exactly the kind of song that Tori has done to death. It's a paint-by-numbers "the patriarchy is evil" song, a pale imitation of something like "God" from Under the Pink. Where "God" was intriguing and powerful, "Strong Black Vine" falls flat because of its utter predictability. Sorry, but singing about saving soldiers from their "evil faith" is no longer shocking. Try again.
I get the sense listening to this album that Tori's gotten stuck in the mold of her image: I am Tori Amos therefore I must write about feminism and religion and spirituality. I'm not saying she should suppress or change her beliefs, but writing about them isn't convincing if there's no emotion behind it, and these songs, to me, often feel emotionally lifeless. The "visualettes" she released with each track on the album, in which she parades about in wigs and couture looking bored, add to the impression that her heart's not really in it. Choirgirl wasn't a great album just because it was short. She was going through a difficult and painful time in her life when she recorded it, and you could feel that emotion clearly in the music. On AATS, it sounds like she's phoning it in. Let's be clear here: I have no desire to see Tori suffer for her art, but I'd like to see some honesty.
So please, Tori... take the wigs off.
Sadly, Tori albums tend to be hit-or-miss affairs these days. She hasn't produced really great albums for a long time. To be fair, there were some great tracks on those albums, but they were ultimately overpowered by the mediocrity. Her latest, Abnormally Attracted to Sin, continues this unfortunate trend. If she wants to reverse it and start making good albums again, there are two things she's got to work on.
Number one: as another pianist and singer-songwriter says, "You can write, but you can't edit." Tori can't edit. At 17 tracks, AATS is shorter than the 23-track behemoth that is American Doll Posse, but it's still needlessly bloated. Tori has to figure out that sometimes less really is more. In my opinion, her best album was From the Choirgirl Hotel. It only had 12 tracks, but not one of them was a throwaway. In contrast, half the stuff on AATS could easily be labeled "filler." Just like her previous two albums, there are some great songs here. The shimmering, spare "Flavor," the powerful piano outro of "Lady in Blue," the quirky "That Guy" and a few others are all proof of that. But because she either can't or won't edit herself, the good ones get buried beneath tracks like the trite "500 Miles" or the chaotic mess that is "Police Me." Please, Tori, either get better at editing yourself or get somebody who isn't afraid to say no to you.
Number two: be more genuine. This album is a tired rehashing of every theme she's ever covered. I cringe every time I hear "Strong Black Vine" because it's exactly the kind of song that Tori has done to death. It's a paint-by-numbers "the patriarchy is evil" song, a pale imitation of something like "God" from Under the Pink. Where "God" was intriguing and powerful, "Strong Black Vine" falls flat because of its utter predictability. Sorry, but singing about saving soldiers from their "evil faith" is no longer shocking. Try again.
I get the sense listening to this album that Tori's gotten stuck in the mold of her image: I am Tori Amos therefore I must write about feminism and religion and spirituality. I'm not saying she should suppress or change her beliefs, but writing about them isn't convincing if there's no emotion behind it, and these songs, to me, often feel emotionally lifeless. The "visualettes" she released with each track on the album, in which she parades about in wigs and couture looking bored, add to the impression that her heart's not really in it. Choirgirl wasn't a great album just because it was short. She was going through a difficult and painful time in her life when she recorded it, and you could feel that emotion clearly in the music. On AATS, it sounds like she's phoning it in. Let's be clear here: I have no desire to see Tori suffer for her art, but I'd like to see some honesty.
So please, Tori... take the wigs off.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
It must be summer
Ping!
It's three forty-five in the morning, and with that sound I'm instantly awake, if not precisely alert, and already well on my way to being really cranky.
I know that sound came from my harp, but I don't immediately understand how. For a moment I think stupidly of bugs careening into the soundboard, then of a scene in The Haunting in which a harp begins to play by itself. Then I realize a) I'm being an idiot, b) the air conditioning isn't on yet, and c) I left the window open.
Grumbling, I heave myself out of bed and shuffle over to the harp, knowing already what I'll find. Yep, here it is... the remains of a broken string, up near the top. I've been lucky with this harp - I've had it for about five years and this is only the second broken string I've had. Strings always break sooner or later, sometimes because of the wear and tear of playing and sometimes because of fluctuations in temperature. (Apparently it was the latter that did in this one.) So it's a perfectly natural thing for a string to do. It's merely unfortunate that it reached the breaking point so early in the morning.
Makes a hell of an alarm clock, though.
It's three forty-five in the morning, and with that sound I'm instantly awake, if not precisely alert, and already well on my way to being really cranky.
I know that sound came from my harp, but I don't immediately understand how. For a moment I think stupidly of bugs careening into the soundboard, then of a scene in The Haunting in which a harp begins to play by itself. Then I realize a) I'm being an idiot, b) the air conditioning isn't on yet, and c) I left the window open.
Grumbling, I heave myself out of bed and shuffle over to the harp, knowing already what I'll find. Yep, here it is... the remains of a broken string, up near the top. I've been lucky with this harp - I've had it for about five years and this is only the second broken string I've had. Strings always break sooner or later, sometimes because of the wear and tear of playing and sometimes because of fluctuations in temperature. (Apparently it was the latter that did in this one.) So it's a perfectly natural thing for a string to do. It's merely unfortunate that it reached the breaking point so early in the morning.
Makes a hell of an alarm clock, though.
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