In a Sunday Magazine feature, one of my favourite song-smiths Don McGlashan was quoted as saying “A lot of people sound as if they’ve learnt how to sing from a book†and that to “tell a story right from the heart… that’s a rare giftâ€.
Dearest Don, I strongly disagree.
My job is to assist people in telling their stories (and other people’s stories) with as much authenticity, emotional connectedness, heart and freedom of expression as possible.
It isn’t rare to find beautiful, heartfelt voices – we can all sing with heart – and speak with heart for that matter if we are talking about something we feel passionately. This is because singing and speaking are simply different variations of the same instrument and its function – to communicate.
Because we are conditioned to believe that singing takes extra-special skill and specialist training, many people consider themselves unqualified to sing (in a culture that derides and humiliates publicly anyone who dare sing without the right tone, image, status, or context). Thankfully, there are some cultures wherein singing is so functional and necessary to daily operations that self consciousness and self doubt are trumped by duty and the familiarity, validity and sheer joy of sung-sound.
To sing and to speak freely is our birthright. (With any luck, people will listen! With even more luck – we have something valid to say)
The one thing that makes us human is our ‘individual’ or unique perspective. As performers, ‘our version’ of a song can become definitive or our ‘signature tune’. Think of Jeff Buckley’s interpretation of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah or Billie Holliday’s ‘Strange Fruit’.
I’d like to steer you towards your most direct and personal interpretation of the songs you sing – be they your own, or other peoples’.
First up, ask yourself how you feel about the song you are singing at the deepest level? At its core, is it a happy or sad story? Simple or complicated? Do you wish to comfort or confront the intended recipient for the song’s message?
When we know, wholeheartedly how we feel about a song, understanding its story, subtexts, message and purpose, and how we personally relate to it, then, we can establish the best ways to convey it. A rule of thumb is to only sing songs you can relate to. (NB: Actors often make great singers for this reason)
It helps to remind yourself of the ‘tools for expression’ – the ways we can more readily access and engage with the song. Use your whole body to tell the story – body language (gesture, posture, movement), facial muscles (for articulation and intonation), gut response (for support), sympathetic nervous system and all of our eight senses (so that we’re tasting what we want the listener to taste, feeling the hair on the back of our necks prickle as if we want the audience to do so too). Allow yourself to kinaesthetically respond to the song as you sing it.
To filter the song through our own mind and heart, we will draw upon our own experience, intellect and psyche. Our internal censor and/or critic will probably put up a good line in self-sabotage and self-defence to prevent this from happening. Fundamentally, the only thing that matters is YOUR relationship to the song. This is a very intimate and personal thing. No-one will feel and react to the lyric and melody of a song the same way you do. But, you may have to dig deep to find out what the song really means to you. Recite it aloud slowly and sing it a cappella as you walk.
Song interpretation is often assisted by our skills of ‘arrangement’. Components of arrangement include: Mood, Tempo (fast or slow?), Feel, Genre, Time-signature, Instrumentation, Texture (do we want to give the lyric space? or drive it along with a strong rhythmic motif?) the Dynamic Map of the song, Key (as it sits in your vocal range), Tone, Phrasing (smooth or clipped?), Body Language, Structure (long intro’s, solo’s, repetition of sections – or lack of), Re-harmonization and Melodic experimentation.
Train yourself to listen past a specific artist’s interpretation of a song so that you can hear what the song itself wants. Then, as you sing it for, and to yourself – allow yourself to personalize your version. (Pimp the song – paint flames up the sides, sing it differently each time and go to places you wouldn’t ordinarily go – take risks).
Let’s use Don McGlashan’s ‘Anchor me’ as a case study. I see this song as an aching plea for stability and comfort – both spiritually and physically. In my dynamic map of the song, the highest point of action and emotion (or zenith) for me comes with the line “When you pull me down†at the end of the bridge. I feel the instability in my phrasing of the verses and urge the song’s recipient with the command in the chorus. Soloing over the bridge’s chord changes and repeating the Words ‘Anchor me’ in a warm but spooky, quiet, meditative intro and outro help create a contrast in mood between verse and chorus.
Overall, commit yourself to being the caretaker of the song. Own your version of your songs – be your own authority on what the song is all about (even if that’s different to other people’s angle and interpretation). Know your heart and show that to others. What a precious gift indeed – both to give and receive.