Thank you for all the birthday wishes last Saturday. I spent my birthday morning inside an MRI scanner – a slightly unusual present – but the afternoon was one of the most glorious six hours of rugby I can recall. Rugby, for those on the far side of the Atlantic is like a grown-up version of American Football, (poor joke) or, to quote a better one, football is a gentlemen’s game played by hooligans, while rugby is a hooligan’s game played by gentlemen.
Elsewhere, we have the first winner of the #IamTheVicar campaign for images for future Vicar releases. A stunning photograph by Angel Stephens :
Thank you to all those who are sending images as well as submitting vocals to the V-Factor. All are much appreciated. As is the discussion about “good singing” on the guestbook. I would suggest that PPPmINTY, who tends to forgo vocal music, listens to Andy Yorke singing San Manuel from The Vicar Songbook (it can previewed for free on Soundcloud or Spotify, so this is not a monetary sales pitch). He quite simply lives the song.
I recall many years ago watching a TV show where some school children had won a competition about writing a song to save the rainforest. They sang it live and I remember thinking how trite and poor their lyrics were. A little later, Sting (inevitably) joined them for a verse and sang the same lyrics. His performance has almost become a defining moment for me in my understanding of the craft of singing - because those same trite lyrics through his delivery suddenly sounded like insightful poetry. This was unlike the gift of Sylvian, for example, where you hang on his voice because his words in his mouth contain an insight into another realm. These were not great lyrics, no great insight. And yet suddenly Sting conjured one from nowhere - I may be exaggerating slightly here, given the thirty year interlude, but the transformation was astonishing. So keep those vocals coming!
Thankfully for all those of us struggling with “What is Life?”, my son’s question this morning was far more mundane – “Why are we the only animals which don’t like walking around naked?” (I think prompted by the towel that his father had wrapped around his waist, which was threatening at any moment to reveal more than intended).
"Gradual transitions take place suddenly."
