Sad But (Sing) True
One of my latest objectives is to transition from the lyrical version of Jason Voorhees (massacres everything even in silence) into the lyrical version of Hannibal Lecter (massacres everything with class, precision and a glass of Merlot).
Basically, I have started taking singing lessons (and guitar lessons). This is happening after years of singing and playing guitar in Magneto mode – ie telepathically and with a metal helmet on (back in the day it was all about the scrollable adjustable metal circle of pain around your cranium).
Admittedly, I have suffered from shyness and wasn’t built with the strongest confidence in my abilities, so this is a massive step for me, especially considering the fact that my self criticism levels are higher than Simon Cowell’s high waisted trousers on a muddy French Cancan day.
I am currently also enjoying an app I downloaded on my iPhone called SingTrue, which is really cool to practice little bits and pieces around pitch and the ability to sustain notes for a while.
And yes, I screech at night, but that’s ok as the neighbours get me confused with the local cat version of Pavarotti (for now).
I upgraded to the full version, and I have to say that it is worth it, it also reminds you to practice when you haven’t used the app for a while.
Equally, it tells you when you’re shit, which is good training for egotistical rockstar training I guess?
“Fred Durst, shut the fuck up and stop rolling, learn to sing for god’ sake!!”
On this note…..