The Flying Aspidistra's Band Camp 2016

The Bamboo Band - Bananas - Busking in Chichester

The Bamboo Band - Last Train - Busking in Chichester

Loopy and GB - 002

Mad March Mini-Break Day 02

 

 

Dear Bonkers Maisie (Key-OSM)

Life in The Bamboo Band - First Gig of 2015.

Ripping it up at the RAFA club in Bognor Regis:

 

Phew!

Made it through another year (2nd on from diagnosis) more or less intact!

Go me!

 

El Reporto de Frontie Lino...

Watch this space...

No, this one, here...

Jazz, Delicious Hot, Disgusting Cold (The Bonzo Dog Band). Interpreted By OSM.

In search of the 'sound' I currently on the hunt for I've been listening to The Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band's album Gorilla.

There are many stand out moments on this 'transitional' Bonzo's album, but there's one I keep retuning to time and again.
Jazz, Delicious Hot, Disgusting Cold.

The story goes:

• This Gorilla cut found the Bonzos savagely parodying their early "trad" jazz roots. Founder member Neil Innes recalled the story of the song to Uncut magazine: "It was decided to do this as a dada track, one take, and whatever happened that was it. Viv (Stanshall) picked up the trumpet, which he'd never played before. Rodney (Slater) took up the trombone, which he'd never played before. Roger (Ruskin Spear) moved over to clarinet. And we steamed into this 32 bar sequence, as you hear it on the record. It makes me laugh every time I hear it."

The Bonzo's version is based on a common 32 bar sequence in Bd which I 'drilled' into my fingers before changing it to C in the hope I may have been able to add the bass harmonica.
(I'll have to practice that a bit more.)

I gave it a go:

I laughed till I cried.

Republic Concert Resonator Ukulele Strip Down/Re-Build/Re-String.

There comes a time when every stringed instrument player 'knows' it's time for new strings. Some change strings on a regular basis, others choose to ignore the necessity and solider on.

I tend to be in the later category.

When I played the guitar I ended up on the expensive new string treadmill round about every six weeks. I favoured Elixir strings with Nanoweb coating at £10 a pop. Boy, am I glad those days are over.

The stings on my resonator uke are the same ones it came with when I took possession of it... I'm tempted to change that line to 'when it took possession of me'.

The stings on this uke are anchored in slots on the body and, on close inspection, to my horror were beginning to stretch-out to thin strands. Considering how hard I thrash this instrument it's a wonder I've managed to get away no broken strings.

N.B. string breakages happen at the most inconvenient moment, usually mid-performance, usually in public, usually when you don't have spares, and will usually have a detrimental effect on the tuning of the remaining strings.

It's time for change.

On removing the old stings it proved to much of a temptation not to open the uke up...

12 small screws later... Inside we see the aluminium cone c/w 'biscuit' bridge assembly. I found the 'biscuit' was bolted to the cone. I'd assumed this would be a 'floating' assembly which would allow some intonation adjustment. On further inspection I discovered the cone has a good bit of 'elbow room' in it's housing, so I suppose that's the intonation adjustment...

On removing the cone...

A disappointing stick self-tapped in place with two struts linking it to plywood discs placed against the back of the chamber. Crude, but effective?

Then there's all the dust a fluff. I found a spherical 'pill' of fluff had formed inside the body..

Cleaned up, reassembled, and re-strung..

Now the annoying bit starts...

New strings need stretching till they stay in tune. I use the ubiquitous Aquila Nylgut strings. I stopped experimenting with uke strings the moment I first threaded a set of Aquilas on to my baritone uke. They have the astonishing capacity of improving the sound of any ukulele they're fitted to. Most new Ukes seem to come fitted with them as standard nowadays.

The initial tuning I make is 3 semitones above the normal tuning of G C E A. So, that's Bb Eb G C. I 'hammer' away at a few chords, adjusting the tuning as necessary until the strings stablise and hold tune, then tune to the G key.

3hours on from the change over things seem to have settled down nicely.

To be honest this instrument's intonation isn't entirely correct, just that little bit 'off' that makes it sound interesting. (it's not a good idea to drift above the 5th fret BTW) All my favourite instruments have an endearing 'quirk' like this, the slightly 'broken' sound appeals to me.... that and it's 'BARK!'

So now I don't have to worry about changing strings for another 5 years, or so.

Unless...

What would this ukulele sound like with steel strings?

It certainly seems built to take 'em.

Hmmm...

 

'Dancing in the Dark' (Springsteen) slight return...

So, on acquiring a Bass Harmonica the first thing one asks oneself is 'why doesn't it sound like the noise I had in my head?'

I'm far from disappointed though.

It was great fun making 'spooky' noises in the dark when I first got my hands on it, but it has a job to do, and that means I have to make some attempt at learning to play it.

Easier said than done...

One of the reasons I purchased this instrument was wanting that 'sound' on The Flying Aspidistras'  version of 'The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God'.

I tried playing along with the second demo version.

It wasn't a great success.

I kept noodling away... errr,  alright, I imitated farting noises and laughed like a drain for about 2 days.

I eventually found I could very-nearly-almost accompany the demo version of 'Dancing in the Dark' I'd recorded.
I hadn't planed to re-record DitD, as - always happens - I'd become... well, sick of it.
It might come out to play if I can't think of anything else to twang, but it's definatly on the back-boiler.

So, back to work then.
Garageband reloaded into the iPad.
The DAW app doesn't really work of me, I find GarageBand much easier to edit on.
The problems with GarageBand are all the 'bells & whistles'.
It's always a temptation to add 'automatic' backing instruments to fatten the track out.

The only non-human instrument I recorded was the drum track and, initially, only to provide a metronome, but in the end it sounded better in than out so it stayed.

Instruments (in order of recording)

• Track 01: Metronome Drum Track
• Track 02: Resonator Ukulele c/w guide vox
• Track 03: Baritone Ukulele.
• Track 04: Resonator Ukulele.
• Track 05: Pocket Bass Hamonica.
• Tracks 06/07/08/09 Vocals

I made a slight mistake in the recording procedure.
When recording the guide uke/vox track I turned the drums off and used the annoying clave metronome.
My timing drifted in a couple of parts.
This had the knock on effect of throwing the subsequent recordings ever-so-slightly 'out'.

It's an odd sensation, listening back to the guide-track whilst recording another part.
You know your timing is dead-on against the drums - which I'd turned back on - then the backing-track 'wobbles'.
You only have a split second, once you realise something's wrong, to readjust.

It's a bit like being seasick.

I could not get the vocal right, one of the reasons it's fallen off my top 20 songs to sing and play.
The result is a combination of several takes.
I like the way I attempted to extend the word 'and' in the stanza  'I get up in the morning, and I have nothing to say'.
It was an attempt at a tension building 'annnnnnnd here's Dickie' talk show host way.

I like the way I sung 'tired and bored with myself' in my impersonation of a narky teenage way.

These observations may not actually be apparent to normal people, but I can hear them.

Here it is then:


It's growing on me, but it's done now.

The Bamboo Band at the Military/Industrial Complex Event in Worthing.

This gig, featuring 'Up & Coming YOUNG (!) Bands', had been put together by the organisers in just 6 days!

We were asked to play a couple of days beforehand.
Lord James and I sat on deck chairs watching the bands, waiting for our turn.
He turned to me and said 'I have a feeling this is going to be a train wreck'.
'Let's hit the buffers full belt then' I replied.

When we finally 'hit the stage' and plugged in we found the on stage monitor mix some what heavily balanced in favour of my instrument.  So much so, in fact, that it was virtually impossible the hear any other instrument, or voice, over the top of it no matter how 'softly' I attempted to play
I swear our djembe player John's hair was been blown backward in the decibel hurricane.

On the drive home I got the distinct feeling that Sir James was a bit, well, unhappy with our performance.
I certainly wasn't happy about it and the biggest bit of it I wasn't happy with was my performance and the astonishing volume of it.

This video just turned up on YouTube:


I'm truly gobsmacked.

Out front the sound was fine.

I watch myself knowing I was cringing all the way through our set and now I'm wishing I'd enjoyed it a bit more.

(Fortunately the bit where I stood on the edge of the stage and shouted "HELLO GLASTONBURY" has either been edited out, or it was never filmed because the moment the words left my lips the rain started to pelt down.)

The Green Eye of The Little Yellow God... (damn your eyes!)

In a previous post I rattled on about my unnatural obsession with this monologue.

Errr,

This will be more of the same...

So, having created what is in effect a 'technical' demo of the song's structure there's very little for the original recording files to do except take up storage space.

Or, perhaps have a bit of a laugh with them.

I have in my mind an Edwardian officer, red tunic, gold braid, probably holding his pith hemet, HUGE moustache, I probably remember the image from a biscuit tin at my Granny's house.
Or the label of a bottle of Camp coffee (a vile syrup made from tarmac), but I think the chaps on the bottle wore kilts...

What are you blathering on about?Fi

Sorry, got a bit wistful.

The initial recording of the vocal/uke track will be used as a 'guide track' to hang the subsequent recordings on.

First new recording: baritone uke hitting the off beats.
Second new recording: Concert uke strummed lightly
Third new recording: Resonator uke chord pattern filled out with passing chords.
Forth new recording: Vocal sung in a very nearly right vocal style.
Fifth new recording:  Chorus backing vocal

Edit of original demo track to B sections of the song thus adding another uke and vocal to this passage.

Mix down/trans to laptop/top and tail edit/process via Vinyl @ 78rpm (no scratches).

I end up with something that's been making me laugh all week:

OSM Playing Electric Ukulele to the Sound Mirrors at Denge. Filmed by Independent Film Maker Ned Ouwell.

 

 

The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God (J. Milton-Hayes) Updated... twice now and now thrice.. and for the forth, and last bloody time...

Sometime ago, while I was stumping the streets for a charity, I thought, 'I must know some poems'.
I jumbled this list together:

• Jabberwoky
• Ozymandias
• The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God
• This be the Verse

It was a start.

I found the texts, recorded myself reading them out loud, loaded up the pod, and set out walking...

I suppose Green Eye is more likely to be described as a monologue.
Here's what J. Milton-Hayes had to say about it:

"I wrote The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God in five hours, but I had it all planned out. It isn't poetry and it does not pretend to be, but it does what it sets out to do. It appeals to the imagination from the start: those colours, green and yellow, create an atmosphere. Then India, everyone has his own idea of India. Don't tell the public too much. Strike chords. It is no use describing a house; the reader will fix the scene in some spot he knows himself. All you've got to say is 'India' and a man sees something. Then play on his susceptibilities."

"His name was Mad Carew. You've got the whole man there. The public will fill in the picture for you. And then the mystery. Leave enough unsaid to make paterfamilias pat himself on the back. 'I've spotted it, he can't fool me. I'm up to that dodge. I know where he went.' No need to explain. Then that final ending where you began. It carries people back. You've got a compact whole. 'A broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew' They'll weave a whole story round that woman's life. Every man's a novelist at heart. We all tell ourselves stories. That's what you've got to play on."

So, after all these years I thought I'd have a go putting it to music... or the sword, depends on your point of view I suppose.

I robbed the double tone chord sequence from the world Calypso.

I like it.

It fits.

The initial recording was made using my dying iPod Touch.

Transfered to the lap-top for editing.

Transfered to the iPad to add a baritone uke track

(There was quite a lot of this transfering business BTW)

I ended up with this:

(Recording removed because I sodded up the mix and didn't hear how badly I'd got it wrong until I got it up on the monitors.
I'll re-post when I've fixed it.)

I want to add this to The Flying Aspidistras set.

I think it sort of fits.

Update: 01
The Wiki-lazy-pedia entry seems sane enough:
http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Green_Eye_of_the_Little_Yellow_God


Update: 02


I had to do quite a bit of remedial EQing of the track.
I have a very sibilant voice which can generally be hidden behind a hi-hat or other hi-freqency element.
In this arrangement - lacking any percussive element - there's no hiding place.

The sibilance is compounded by the devices I use to record with.
The iPod mic is about the size of a pinhead, but, I keep reminding myself 'this is just a demonstration of what the framework will be when I eventually get round to recording it properly... with Harriet.'

Another side effect of the EQ setting the seeming transformation of the Broom Pole and Tin Box Bass into, what sounds to me like, a Crumhorn.

So, just me then...

As a final addition, here's the monologue in full:

The Green Eye Of The Little Yellow God

There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu,
There's a little marble cross below the town;
There's a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew,
And the Yellow God forever gazes down.

He was known as "Mad Carew" by the subs at Khatmandu,
He was hotter than they felt inclined to tell;
But for all his foolish pranks, he was worshipped in the ranks,
And the Colonel's daughter smiled on him as well.

He had loved her all along, with a passion of the strong,
The fact that she loved him was plain to all.
She was nearly twenty-one and arrangements had begun
To celebrate her birthday with a ball.

He wrote to ask what present she would like from Mad Carew;
They met next day as he dismissed a squad;
And jestingly she told him then that nothing else would do
But the green eye of the little Yellow God.

On the night before the dance, Mad Carew seemed in a trance,
And they chaffed him as they puffed at their cigars:
But for once he failed to smile, and he sat alone awhile,
Then went out into the night beneath the stars.

He returned before the dawn, with his shirt and tunic torn,
And a gash across his temple dripping red;
He was patched up right away, and he slept through all the day,
And the Colonel's daughter watched beside his bed.

He woke at last and asked if they could send his tunic through;
She brought it, and he thanked her with a nod;
He bade her search the pocket saying "That's from Mad Carew,"
And she found the little green eye of the god.

She upbraided poor Carew in the way that women do,
Though both her eyes were strangely hot and wet;
But she wouldn't take the stone and Mad Carew was left alone
With the jewel that he'd chanced his life to get.

When the ball was at its height, on that still and tropic night,
She thought of him and hurried to his room;
As she crossed the barrack square she could hear the dreamy air
Of a waltz tune softly stealing thro' the gloom.

His door was open wide, with silver moonlight shining through;
The place was wet and slipp'ry where she trod;
An ugly knife lay buried in the heart of Mad Carew,
'Twas the "Vengeance of the Little Yellow God."

There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu,
There's a little marble cross below the town;
There's a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew,
And the Yellow God forever gazes down.

I can't help feeling there's a whiff of - dare I say it? - SteamPunk about this.

A 'Very Worthing' Protest.... (Updated)

I received a message from Bamboo Band HQ. We are requested to perform at a consciousness raising event in support of Greenpeace's Anti-Fracking campaign.

I have a vague idea that Fracking maybe a bad thing, especially if one lives in the beucolic biss afforded in the folds of the South Downs.... It would wreak havoc with the golf and may frighten the horses.

I'm against Fracking because it just seems like another dead end in terms of powering the future.

I like windmills. I like great big white windmills. If there's one thing I like more than great big white windmills it's hundreds of great big white windmills standing in the sea with ships weaving in and out of them.

Linda's a Greenpeace supporter and will stop to talk to any of the dreadlocked-crusty-trustifarians that occasionally leave their Hobbit holes in Brighton and come to do Eco-missionary work on the streets of Bognor Regis.

I'm generally sympathetic to their cause, but, having joined more than my fair share of crazy cults, I can spot one when I see one.

We arrive in a car park some short way from the rendezvous point outside Worthing Railway Station. I am in rapture. Teville Gate....

And was dystopia builded here...? As Jonathan Meades said in his series on Brutalism, "the sheer joylessness is thrilling'. It certainly is. I think it maybe because I grew up in the countryside, and thereby developed an unromantic view of the place, that I find this kind of completely urban environment endlessly fascinating. I'd have done the gig right here.

The multi-story car park is another wonder, but the sun was behind it, so I didn't take a picture.

We are early. I didn't known what to expect, but was somewhat relived not to find baying hordes of balaclava-clad Eco-warriors manning the barricades against the forces of repression bent on carving up the planet for the shareholders.

I took a picture of Linda:

I didn't notice the horns.

We went for a coffee in the cafe over the road from the station. It was as 'tradition' a British cafe as one could hope to visit... In fact it was over the top British, right down to the proprietors handlebar moustache.

I drink what I used to call a 'milky coffee', but now know I should refer to it as a 'latte' if I don't want to be taken for an unsophisticated dullard.

I read the Sun 'newspaper'. It's filled with bile about the odious PR Guru Max Clifford's fall from grace. Watch out when your hand becomes the only food left to feed the monster with.

Lord James Bamboo turns up and we decamp to the event.

We look around, can't see much going on, then I notice a small group of middle aged people in kagools shuffling leaflets. Guess who?

The activists activate by doning Greenpeace tabards and hold up a large sign reading "Stop Fracking!". The Bamboo Band twang into action:

We play for two hours solid becoming most animated when ever a train unloads it's passengers.

Then the forces of repression make their move. The station manger tells the organisers that 'the music can't be playing on Southern Rail property'. Southern Rail property seemingly defined by the perimeter of the station entrance canopy. We step outside the perimeter and start playing 'Can't Beat The Bamboo Band'.

I am upbraided by a callow youth of a protester who suggests that it was politically incorrect of me to describe the station master as the 'Fat Controller'. I explain that I am an unsophisticated dullard and know no better.

There's a more convincing protestor type with us now. He is wearing a pink hat and, I'm told, was at one of the really big protests where some nice middle class people got in a bit of a tizzy about the possible intention of a company to maybe consider Fracking in their back gardens.

I don't mean to be cynical. These are committed people that want to stop our planet being exploited for, relitively, short term gains.

Here's the thing though... I worked on an oil rig. My employers were contracted to clean it. It was a German rig, highly efficient, required high standards from the contractors.

I cleaned it to with in an inch of it's life 3 times a week. One of the crew was a Texan. He looked like he was wearing a Stetson, even when he wasn't. 'God damn!', he said at me, 'this is a oil rig sir, an' you makin' it look like a high class whore house'. And yes, he really was that stereotypical.

Why is this relevant?

It's relevant because that drilling rig was in woodlands in the Sussex Downs. Right in the middle of one of those bucolic folds. They were drilling about a mile going down and then about a mile going along.

The site puts out just over 100* barrels a day. If they got the hole right that should increase to 300+*.

(* I may have got these figures wrong, but I think the differential is about right.)

No one, but no one even raised an eyebrow.

Update:

From the Worthing Herald: Worthing Against Fracking

 

Swallow Cottage, Stripe Lane. Hartwith-cum-Winsley. (Updated: Permissions Changed)

I had intended making a looooooonnnnnnggggg home movie about last October's trip to Nidderdale.

Fortunately for boredom thresholds I changed my mind.

So, edited highlights of significant importantance to... well, me I suppose.

 

So, now you know.

 

Isn't This a Lovely Day? (I. Berlin) or 'Just How Useful is the iPad?'

This is potentially a long and boring post about me playing about with an iPad Mini in attempt to discover if it could replace a desk/lap top computer as my toy box of choice.

The long suffering AppleBook, I bought secondhand from Cash Converters more years ago than I can remember, is on it's last legs. It's screen has developed 'sun-spots' in awkward places, it's processing speed has slowed to a snails pace, and it lives in the back-room linked into several periferal devices associated with audio production, where it's to bloody cold to work.

Linda gave me the iPad Mini as a birthday gift last year. At first I was at a loss as to what to do with it, an iPod Touch being my favoured mobile device. Over the last year I've gradually found ways of using the iPad for what ever it is I do, errr, let's see...

Photography: My preferred camera app is the Hipstarmatic 'retro' camera. It worked well-ish on my iPod though the picture quality suffered due to the iPod's lowly lens. I have various other gimmicky camera apps, but I don't think of myself as a photographer I just point, press, and hope... For as many times as I have to till I nearly get the shot I want.

Film/Movie Making: Another 'retro' app, 8mm, is my camera app of choice for filming, though films made using the very good generic camera/movie app can be imported into 8mm to apply it's effects. 8mm also has a dedicated iPad version that offers more features than the iPod version that I'm still investigating. I only ever 'dabble' here as I really have no idea how films are captured and put together, I just know what I want to do and luckily for me the iMovie app does it. As time passes, and I gain more experience in editing, my needs will change, but for now iMovie still has plenty more to offer me. I'm still looking for a good animation programme though.

Music: GarageBand, GarageBand, GarageBand. In terms of audio recording software it's basic, and that's exactly what I like about it. Today's audio recording software packages, with all their sophisticated editing options, render the polishing of turds almost child's play. The problem here being that these processes, regardless of genre, dictate the outcome and everything ends up sounding a bit 'samey' in production terms. Well, to my ears they do.
Back in the day I loved my Tascam Portstudio-144 and stretched it's abilities as far as I could before the quality offered by the 4 Track cassette format became an issue. There simply wasn't enough tape surface available to get a decent signal down that would create a half decent master. The simplicity of GarageBand sort of reminded me of the PortaStudio. Nowadays of course GarageBand has many of the options offered by more expensive programmes, but in essence offers good quality recording in an easy to use package.

So, now watch this video and then I'll break the process down:

Most of my current musical noodling is centered around the Flying Aspidistras set. To understand the, in some cases, complex chord patterns and arrangements I need to play about with them or, as they used to say, 'jam' them out to arrive at a version that's playable 'live'....
(I have a real bee-in-my-bonnet about being able to perform any song I take on without the external aid of a song sheet. If I'm staring at a music stand I find it difficult to 'communicate' with any audience that may, or may not, turn up to be entertained and if I take my eyes off the sheet there's a very real danger of me losing my place. It's bad enough 'fluffing' a song your playing, but if you 'fluff' when it's written down in front of you it's unforgivable IMHO)
...I completely understand why some performers might want the security of a crib sheet, it's not what I do. It's something about having respect for the song and, to a lesser degree, the audience I think, though it could be me just 'showing off'.

Irving Belin's 'Isn't This A Lovely Day' was suggested for inclusion in the set by the other Asdidistra, Harriet B.
Now, (here's a startling confession) in 1978, on the crest of Punk's 'year zero', when I was 'destroying' everything on the road to nowhere just as hard as the rest, I heard Peter Skellen's album 'Astaire'.  
(I actually preferred it to much of the ersatz agit-prop being hammered out by the punk fraternity)
The album included a version of 'Lovely Day' so the piece was not unfamiliar to me.

It's a pig to play.
I started on it seriously around the end last September. My first mission, to get it into my head. It's there now and, though I still make the odd 'fluff' whilst playing it, I've got it to the stage where most people wouldn't notice. So now I feel able attempt a recording of it.

GarageBand open, metronome ticking at 120 BPM, and the SmartPiano instrument primed with most of the chords, I tapped out the basic backing track. I planned to give the piece a sing-a-long-round-the-piano-in-the-pub feel so the track is quite heavily on the beat and sounds somewhat hamfisted. I had to go into the resulting recording to shift some notes in various passing chords around till it sounded right. At this point I only considered it to be a guide-track for the other instruments I intended adding. I also added a SmartDrum track so I could loose the metronome. I don't like metronomes.

The first live part recorded was my Risa electric uke fed into the iPad via an iRig audio interface. The signal level was very weak. I thought the iRig might make things easier, but the output of the uke isn't enough to drive it properly.. The track offers various guitar amp models, I chose a 'clean' sound using a Vox AC30, or 'Brit Amp' setting.

Second live recording comes from my resonator uke via a dynamic mic fed through an iRig-pre. This was a much better recording level wise and worked well against the other tracks. The mic track is set up for vocals rather than instruments and offers little in the way of appropriate adjustment so the initial sound has to be as close as I can get to what I want rather than fixing it in the mix.

Third live track was the vocal captured with the iPad's internal mic and it shows. I've added a 'telephone' style setting to it, basically fiddling around with the High-Mids and a compressor. Future recordings will go in through a mic/DI Box/iRig-Pre setup same as the resonator uke.

All the (very) basic tracks down I did a bit level adjustment, added a bit of reverb and then left them alone. Getting the finished track exported out of the iPad presents some problems, but I settled for exporting into iMovie with the plan of adding a video. I've uploaded a mix to SoundClound and Google+, but I wanted a YouTube version as well.

The introduction of the movie is made up of Hipstarmatic pictures with a Ken Burns effect.
 The 'virtual' version of myself was created in an app called Morpho.

 To get my head to appear to be singing I had to export the vocal track to my old laptop, set a mic up in front of the studio speakers and then hit record whilst the vocal track is playing in iTunes.

I've still away to go to get a truly 'uncanny valley' version of me appearing to sing, but practice makes perfect.

I took the resulting short videos and pasted them over the full-mix vetsion of the song.
Lining everything up took some time I can tell you.
Once the video was complete I fed it through the 8mm app then sent it upthe tube.

I've got go to sleep now.... ZZZZZZ...

To be continued....

'Copacabana' (Manilow,Feldman,Sussman) Hypno-Batchelor-Pad-Psychedelic-Lounge Mix.

Prep-ing the Flying Aspidistras set has been an interesting project.

'Copacabana' presenting several challenges, not least that I wouldn't have considered playing it for longer than it took me to say 'no'.

My musical chum and fellow Flying Aspidistra, Harriet B., asked if we could give it a go as it was one of her favourite songs. I can't say I was overjoyed at the prospect, but should one want to expand ones musical vocabulary, variety is the key.

Many people, calling themselves musicians, I've met in recent years are, at best, reluctant or, at worst, dismissive of anything that falls outside of their comfort zone. Me? Oh no, bring me to the uncharted waters, fill my sails, an' I'll have at it till I'm flogging a dead horse up a creek without a paddle in a flaming pit filled with snakes.

So, 'Copacabana' (lyric written by Feldman/Sussman on a suggestion from Barry Manilow who provided the music), the version Harriet B. directed me to appeared to be in the key of Dm. In this key I can, not very nearly, sing the song in either a Paul Robeson subsonic rumble or an eye watering shriek only bats can hear. Harriet B. let me have her audio demo which she had to stand on a step ladder to sing. It was around this time I noticed the instruction at the end of the sheet to capo off at the 3rd fret.

N.B. Capos are more of a guitarists than a uke players kind of thing.

I tried a version in the key of Fm the suggested capo placement would produce. All well and good, still a bit on the high side, the major difficulty being a bloodly awkward chord sequence.
A trail though Interwebshire brought me to another guitar based version in the key of Cm7. Bingo!

It is at this point that an iPad appears.

I've been footling around with the app version of GarageBand for a while, the first products being 12 tunes to accompany singing in a performance of 'Sweeny Todd the Barber' (not the Sondhiem version!). I decided to record a demo of Copa to give me something to practice playing the uke against. The hit version runs at 113 BPM, but for practice purposes I decided 90 BPM was a better pace.

My first version featured grand piano, double bass, drums, and (cringe) strings. It was okay-ish (except for the strings) and was perfectly adequate as an accompaniment, but I'd become so involved with the mechanics of the song I couldn't leave well alone.

After several re-jigs I find myself with a Hypno-Bachelor-Pad-Psychedelic-Lounge version of the piece, possibly suitable as a soundtrack for a soft-core pr0n movie, if there are are still such things in this day an age, which I very much doubt:

Ah, yeah baby...
The downside, to what is essentially a successful experiment, is that I now seem to have Barry Manilow's f#%king 'Copacabana' encoded in my DNA.