Further Trials of a Trainee Jazz Singer. (If there can be such a creature!)

Readers may remember the first episode, ‘Jazz singing easy-no way’, or perhaps you are all trying hard to forget. Well I can report that it’s getting a bit easier for us singers though I can’t speak for any listeners.

I can speak for any watchers though, because the other week we all stood in a line facing the large mirror in the classroom so that we could watch while we did a song. This is shot through with pain, but seems to be necessary for all singers, and probably musicians. After all, the audience has to look at you so you should be prepared to confront yourself. I looked quite cute and I appeared to be enjoying myself by putting a bit of drama into the song. My only concern was that I’m about four inches shorter than the other singers, which maybe accounts for the ‘cute’ appearance. I suppose this wouldn’t be as noticeable if I was on stage alone.

I was lost in admiration for the other singers who looked enthusiastic and sophisticated. Yet some people said they couldn’t bear to watch themselves. But this was an excellent exercise, as we were also acting as an audience for each other as well as observing ourselves, and breaking down all sorts of inhibitions in the process. Take heart, fellow singers!

At the start of the lesson two of us had to practise putting up our mike stand, which is an essential skill for a singer, a fact that had never occurred to me before. I don’t do machines, so this was a real trial. You do something magical to the middle of the stand and feet come down, then you stand it up and point the part that holds the mike in the right direction (which is the right direction?) I could never repeat this again, and I’d find it far easier to sing 4 songs straight off, but they’d be without a mike, so what’s the good of that? Must learn mike stand construction soon.

Then there was the bass guitar. I should explain that we get CD’s to practise with at home, rather like those that you can buy with music books from the shops. The CDs play the basic music and you sing along, and hope that the neighbours don’t knock on the wall. It works fine.

But last week it was different, we were introduced to a talented young bass guitarist to play for us. I think he was playing just bass chords, anyway it was something that bore little resemblance to what we were singing. This was difficult and we really had to LISTEN, but it worked, we all got through ‘Good Morning Heartache’. So our chords must have been in there somewhere. This is what I love about jazz singing. You stand up and think it’s impossible and then you find you’re actually singing something that sounds at least ok, and sometimes good. It seems to me that jazz is the most analytical of music, it loves itself in the nicest possible way. And the words of the songs are so simple yet effective. We all nearly cried when we came to the last line, when the singer becomes resigned to being heartbroken – ‘good morning heartache, sit down’

To end cheerfully, have you heard the hangover version of that song? It’s called ‘Good Morning Headache’? (I don’t believe that joke is original, even though I’ve just thought of it.)

Ann Alexander