Sing

May 9, 2016

Greetings from the Siren,

If you were in the car next to me while I was singing I apologize.  It may have appeared I was shouting at my steering wheel, or having some kind of apoplectic fit, but in fact I was doing ‘Born to Run’.

It occurred to me that lately I am not the kind of person who walks around singing.  This may be my disposition, which occasionally dips into the curmudgeonly range.  Or, it may be a maturing attitude about my singing talent, which can best be compared to a black hole in that it sucks the life out of all music around it.

Once, some time ago, I had an opportunity to hear my singing voice recorded.  I was singing ‘The Star Spangled Banner’, and ambitious piece under the best of circumstances, and it turns out this was not the best of circumstances.  Afterwards all of the recording equipment had to be destroyed in the first ever technological euthanasia. 

I don’t know much about music but if when you sing your voice is flat, off key, pitchy, and sounds like you are being waterboarded it might be best if you stick to lip-synching.

I will sing in church, counting on the Christian generosity of the people around me, which are few given that my reputation precedes me.  Even the choir director will occasionally turn from his work and wave his baton at me with the signal ‘ritenudo finiti’, loosely translated as ‘Shut Up.’

I have tried karaoke but each time it seemed there was something wrong with the equipment.  The song was always playing at a different key, and speed, and volume than I was singing.  Some places the karaoke equipment was so bad the owners would suggest it needed to ‘rest’ after I sang and they would shut it off for the night.

If you could imagine singing a mournful country song that actually included the word ‘caterwauling’, or someone trying to yodel to a Gregorian Chant, or the sound of bagpipes being mauled by hyenas, you are getting close to the discord that radiates from my mouth.

A few weeks ago I was driving and a Van Morrison song came on and I started singing along to ‘Mystic’.  This led to a multi-spasm of coughing, which actually sounded better than the singing, and I believe was my body’s self-defense mechanism, trying to protect the other organs.

But in all of this musical cataclysm there is an occasional confluence of circumstances where my ability, the song, the barometric pressure, and solar flares all combine for a less than tragic outcome.  

Of course in those moments I cannot remember lyrics of whatever it is I mean to sing, at least not the ones written for the song.  This week it was ‘Born to Run’.  What I lacked in accuracy I made up for in enthusiasm.  Again, if you were in my vicinity, I apologize for any concern I may have caused, or trauma I may have inflicted on your pets or small children.

My normal singing voice is a cross between a tenor and a goose being slowly run over by a steam roller dragging the silverware drawer.  Singing in the shower I am a bass, especially when I have a cold.  This is where I do my best Barry White, which registers on seismic recorders in Sacramento and will sometimes rattle the pipes so bad I have to call a plumber. 

For some reason as soon as I leave the shower my voice range reverts back to normal, which still cracks like I am cresting puberty.  And I cannot carry a tune in…something designed for tune carrying.

There is not much on the radio I will sing along to nowadays, unless you count NPR news, and that’s just pitiful.  I have a few favorite songs, which I sing only when I am alone, and they seem to be closest to pain free, when I move beyond humming to actual articulation.  If conditions are right.

There was a time when I was on the road that I sang a lot.  It was a way of keeping myself company, and I was not self-conscious about how it sounded.  Plus there was rarely anyone to hear whatever that sounded like.   It might be the conditions were better, or my voice was, or both.

In truth I know that singing off key and flat is better than not singing.  I have had a few days that would have improved if I could have worked up some Springsteen or maybe warbled some James Taylor or in an inspired moment, Cat Stevens.  If I’m honest the main reason it doesn’t happen is that it hasn’t happened.  I think taking yourself too seriously can add inertia to your day, and sometimes singing out loud is a way of reversing that.

“A friend knows the song in my heart and sings it to me when my memory fails.”  ~Donna Roberts

Hope this finds you belting it out,

David

Copyright © 2016 David Smith