Entry 2 20th April 2014 Sorry but youre just too damn loud While I stood at the top of the steep mountain, heart racing, clutching my chest and hyperventilating, dehydrated, hypoglycemic and hallucinating, I thought back to 8 short days previous when another experience had made my heart race. I was stood in BBCs Hoddinott Hall in Cardiffs Wales Millennium Centre, with all my friends from Acquire. Weeks of rehearsal had lead to this moment, but nothing, absolutely nothing could have prepared my emotions for when an orchestra kicked in. The string section launched a flaming arrow straight into my icy heart from its bow. Id listened to classical music before, but nothing is like being in the same room as one. Music is one of my first loves, Roxy music once said Love is the drug, but to me its music, utterly intoxicating, addictive and Im helpless to its charms. It wasnt always like that though, my first experiences on stage at school were marred by a tendency to sway back and forth, in fact in my first starring role as Tree, they had to add a line in the script about it being windy as my 5 year old self did not want to stand still. Further roles in nativities such as Sheep and Donkey stretched my acting ability but its when I first heard and sang music, I fell utterly in love. My old headmaster played Carmina Burana once, I was 10 years old and it was a revelation, and then the Flower Duet, it was all a far cry from listening to Abba, The Beatles and Status Quo at home, mind you, Ill never listening to my first experience listening to a vinyl record, Ysee, Dad always preferred to let his art do the talking, so he didnt really do bedtime stories, (truth be told I preferred to read myself anyway), so he played an album instead, that album was War of the Worlds and over 5 thrilling nights, Richard Burton became my storyteller, the Martians gave me nightmares, especially when he ended one night at the end of side 1 where earth had fallen under the Martians, and I had to wait a whole agonising day to find out if we could beat them. I was always shy at school, my love of music stayed hidden, like some illicit affair, like I was cheating on my precious books somehow. like most school kids, I was asked to join the school choir, but was often shoved to the back, having one of the strongest voices and a less than photogenic face. I grew bored of this and my love of music was packed away until it was awoken some years later... Our second training route was meant to be another trial run, it looked straight forward on a paper, a simple rectangle starting with a coastal hike, then uphill, along the countryside and then our first taste of Offas Dyke path itself, back along the Prestatyn Hillside path, a preview of what will be the final stretch home in 18 months time, but like most things, it didnt exactly go to plan... Walking along deep sand when youre over 25 stone isnt any fun, Dad was wearing safety boots too, so he also was getting the strength-sapping sensation of 2 steps forward, 1 step back, like a less fluid Michael Jacksons Moonwalk, yet we continued onwards for 4 miles, heading towards the Talacre Lighthouse, I dont thin anyone is in it anymore, but its been in a paint advert once, and therefore was more famous than me... Lack of preparation is something Ive never been good with. I still think it was meant as a joke when some colleagues at my youthclub in Porthmadog suggested that I write and perform a song for the local eisteddfod, I remember looking up from an encyclopaedia and asking What?!; and then agreeing, because I had a massive crush on the girl who asked me (If youre reading this now and are embarrassed... sorry, but I figure its been over 18 years now!), I had no idea how to write a song, Id written angst-filled poetry like most angst-filled teens, but songs? Naah. I remember sitting at the keyboard and figuring out what chords would work, and writing a simple melody, of course what I didnt know and realise until some years later is that Id been brainwashed by my sister who was obsessed by a certain 50s themed musical, and had *ahem* borrowed the chords from it completely subconsciously. Im not the only person whos done this of course, as amusingly, I found that a lot of pop songs borrowed the same progression.... but back to the performance itself. The song was a mid 90s europop song, and I had programmed my Yamaha keytar meticulously, Id even stuck my power adaptor with a band-aid so it wouldnt come loose... of course stages are hot and sweaty, so after counting ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR... to cue in the song, the adaptor plopped out and then... silence... We started again, this time I played all the chords by hand, instead of relying on what Id programmed, but the embarrassment of the day meant that I gave up my idea of asking the girl out after our moment of triumph. We got second, to a REAL band, one who had guitars and everything and hoped that someday, I would be a rockstar too, one that got all the girls and didnt have to worry about broken Yamaha adaptors.... Dafydd and I grew tired of the beach and turned inland, we were heading to a house on the hill, curious as to what it was, perhaps it was a ruin to explore, The climb uphill was steep and made me breathless, I had to pause for breath a few times, but as we sat at the top of the hill, by the road, contemplating our next move I saw how far wed come and how far we had to go. After the Possi Port Eisteddfod debacle, I quit the music business although Dawny (my sister) and I did perform as a duo under the name of Possi Port for charities. Our duets were hampered by the fact that Id assumed after my voice had broken, I was a bass, with a pathetically short range, and due to our voices being similar, Dawny couldnt harmonise with me. It was while we were performing at one charity concert, that I came across the performance therapy group Musical Meatballs in MIND, and bit the bug for singing and performing once again... The terrain has turned into countryside, and whilst walking through the idyllic village of Llanasa with its duck ponds and picket fences, as well as Male voice choirs, I realised how fortunate we were to live in such a beautiful country, the sun shone through the trees, and in the shadows, a light breeze whispered with the leaves, my legs were aching after wed checked our pedometer to realise wed walked 10 miles thus far, but I was beginning to realise that I was capable of far more than I originally thought. Its during warm-ups for Acquire I began to realise what my voice could achieve. Acquire, a community choir based in Rhuddlan, was founded by the same musical director of Musical Meatballs in MIND and during its first rehearsal, we warmed up by doing scales. As someone who was only familiar with the scales of a dragon, and whod idea of warming up vocally was singing a song on Karaoke, this experience was new to me...and as the notes went higher and higher, I kept on going, because I didnt know any better. Thats a high C! explained Leslie, the MD, O...k I said, not knowing what that meant, apart from the fact perhaps I was wrong about being a bass. Beyond Llanasa, we consulted the hallowed Offas Dyke gudebook, and trod on the hallowed path for the first time at Bryniau, a village just beyond the outskirts of Gwaenysgor, up Prestatyn Hillside, the book sagely warned us of a steep section up ahead, and once wed walked up a steep-ish hill we slapped ourselves on the back for tackling the section. You call THAT steep! I said, but somewhere in the distance, King Offa laughed, after all, having thrown down the gauntlet, little did I know that the ancient King had a challenge of his own, after relaxing in the sunlight on the ridge overlooking my home, and ringing mum to let her know wed be home soon, we continued onwards, only to be faced with the true steep hill... a rocky climb up uneven rocks and steps, near vertical, my heart raced out of my chest as I struggled onwards, in my head-now with near delirium thanks to being dehydrated and low on blood sugar levels, I imagined I was like SUpergirl climbing out of the Phantom Zone, a tempest at my back, and my dad doubling for a hammy Peter OToole cheering me onwards, once Id reached the top I rested for a few minutes, but my leg failed to work when I walked onwards so I fell to the floor with an audible oof. After getting back up I acknowledged and accepted the challenge of my new nemesis, King Offa, I hope had seen me as a worthy adversary, and this time, I had won his challenge. A steep walk downhill and I was almost home althoughthe narrow rocky path with a sheer drop on one side tested our nerves and tired shaky legs. I was also shaking when I took the stage as a soloist for the first time, there was no Meatballs, no Dawny, no Acquire, just me and the world. It was at the Little Theatre and there was a charity concert in aid of the Meatballs, Id chosen to perform Radioheads Creep, a song Id adopted as my anthem, however while singing it, all my emotions came to the fore as I sang with feeling alone on stage close to tears, I now say that when Im stressed I need to sing it out singing, like my dads art is my catharsis. The end in sight, the rocks narrow trip downwards was nervy and exhausting, we had been shaken to the core and was more than tired, but now we knew what King Offa had in store, hats off to you King Offa, youre made of sterner stuff than we realised! So a week ago, Acquire had its greatest concert, for all my struggles in my long walk, and as I type my aching bones, I havent had to face as much adversity as most. One such source of inspiration is Mike Peters, front man of The Alarm, and one of the nices men I know. Generous, talented, and a two time cancer survivor, he climbs mountains, sings songs and through raising money makes miracles happen, including helping a string session melt a heart that had been frozen by a lost love. Another chapter beckoned, and the following week would prove to be the broadcast of the Mike Peters, National Orchestra and Alarm concert, as well as Dad and my first taste of a back-to-back long distance walk....
Posted on: Sun, 20 Apr 2014 14:04:27 +0000
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