A Musical Journey

Music has been an integral part of my existence from as far back as I can remember. As an introverted child, I often found solace and a sense of belonging in the keys of my old piano and the melodies that flowed from my lips. Singing was like an escape route, a passage that transported me away from reality and into a world of my own.

The Dawn of Musical Obsession

At the tender age of five, I came across an old record player at a sale, a relic that would become my most treasured possession. My free time was soon dominated by music. I spent countless hours hunting for records at car boot sales, discovering the magic of The Beatles, Gloria Estefan, Kate Bush, and The Carpenters.

I took piano lessons, but they felt disjointed from my intimate, personal experiences with music. Learning to sight-read and play scales felt like a different universe compared to the soulful solo jam sessions I had. Like many children growing up in the 80s, I was captivated by 'Top of the Pops' and the chart shows. Buying records and exploring the artists' innermost thoughts within the album sleeves felt like gaining access to a sacred treasure trove of their souls.

Discovering Icons and Finding My Tribe

One evening, I remember being glued to the television, watching the Isle of Wight Festival. Artists like Jimi Hendrix, Joni Mitchell, The Doors, and Leonard Cohen, who would later become my favorites, were on display. They sang of freedom, love, revolution, and truth, and I felt a surge of passion to join their ranks. Their music became a part of my soul.

During these explorations, I stumbled upon 'Boys for Pele' by Tori Amos. This album became a lifeline during my teenage years and beyond, helping me piece myself back together during times of strife. It was a concoction of Beethoven's musicianship, Schoenberg's passion, The Sex Pistols' rebellion, and the melody of late 60's folk singers, all in one.

The Grunge Revelation and the Elevation of Voices

As I entered college, I discovered the beauty of grunge. I found myself oscillating between singing requiems during the day and belting out Hole at night. Rachmaninov and Leonard Cohen held equal places in my heart, and I found joy in Billie Holiday's tunes and Jewel's melodies. I discovered that every artist had a unique voice worth cherishing. Jacqueline du Pre playing Elgar, Emma Kirkby singing Dido's Lament, or the old man down the pub singing his sea shanty, they all had found their voice.

I'll never forget the day a friend introduced me to Jeff Buckley. Sitting on a mattress in a rented apartment, I was captivated by Buckley's transformative voice. As Brad Pitt once said of Buckley, "There's an undercurrent to his music... it's under my skin." This sentiment echoed my feelings exactly.

The Struggles and Triumphs

Contrary to what my A level and Degree Music syllabus suggested, I believe the essence of music is not merely about knowing your crotchet from your quaver. While I did learn these and even the history of notation, I wish I had known back then that gaining confidence was simply about making the unfamiliar familiar. About repetition, learning from failures, and celebrating the process.

During my college years, I grappled with some voice issues, struggling to reach the volume and rock sound I longed for. This spurred a 20-year odyssey of studying sounds, leading me to far-off places and incredible experiences. The art, the craft of music became my world, consuming me, and leaving me with lessons learned the hard way.

The Circle of Music

Throughout this journey, I returned time and again to the simplicity of John Lennon, PJ Harvey, Patti Smith, and Nirvana's songs. Their music, along with art and poetry, always managed to lift me back up. Singing, I realized, doesn't have to be perfect. It is a form of self-expression, a release of emotions, a melody woven from the essence of the singer.

Over the last two decades, I have been fortunate enough to work with literally thousands of singers, from complete beginners to famous faces. Each with their unique spark, their stories, their music. I celebrate them all, the exciting, the mundane, and the intriguing. And if my story resonates with you, I would be thrilled to hear yours and join you on your musical journey.

I invite you to share what music, what singing, means to you, whether you're at the beginning, middle, or end of your journey. Music, after all, is the universal language that binds us all.