SONG 7: A KITCHEN SINK LIFE

One of my brothers has a wife and three kids. Around the time he married, he uttered a profundity that went something like, love means doing the dishes together. It struck me as a great example of what it means to commit your life to a person. It's in the everyday mundanities that love is found. The rosy bits are nice too but as special treats along the way.

My parents did the dishes together every night after dinner. It was one of their relationship rituals along with closing their bedroom door to their four kids each night when dad got home from work so they could catch up for some uninterrupted adult conversation before the family dinner and bedtime work began.

They strengthened their relationship through their kitchen conversations, daily midday lunchtime check-ins and evening gossip sessions in the sanctuary of their room. They had met at a ball and never stopped dancing together. They also shared a love of entertaining and hospitality that gave them a reputation amongst my friends as hosting the best parties in Blackburn, which are spoken of to this day.

All that ended earlier this year. My dad died suddenly in February and my family are still working through our grief at his passing and trying to adjust to life without him. It's bloody tough. As an adult child I've found that there's an expectation that I'll just get on with things as if it was sad but over and done with now and I'm supposedly old enough to not really let it affect me that much and that I should be o.k. six months down the track.

To that I say, bullshit! Doesn't matter how old you are, losing a parent is terribly painful and I'm not o.k. about it at all. It has been the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Losing one of the people that not only helped bring me into the world but knew me like no other and loved me like no other is devastating.

My mum has lost her partner of 47 years and watching the pain she is enduring at losing a loving relationship makes for a double whammy of grief;  I have a deep feeling of powerlessness at not being able to offer her solace in the same way as the one person that could - Dad. I know many of you know what I'm talking about.

But, Song 7 is as much a celebration of a good, committed relationship as it is about loss. Inspired by taking a break from writing those "10 songs in 6 hours" to do the dishes. If there was one song out of the ten I would spend some time editing, it is probably this one. It took 40 minutes to write and needs quite a lot of work, but it's one that I reckon really deserves more time and a good edit.

CHORDS: A repeated chord progression with a descending bass line.

LYRICS:

Washed the pots and the pans
The plates that we ate from last night
There's no-one to dry up
So I leave them to drain on the sink

When I was a kid
And the table was cleared after dinner
Mum would fill up the sink
Dad would pick up a tea towel

He would stand and dry
As she cleared all the dirt form the dinner plates
They would take their time
Husband and wife
In their kitchen sink life

I'm waiting for James
To come home from another day working
I've been sitting all day
Fiddling about on guitar

When dad would come home
He'd go straight to his bedroom and change
As he hung up his clothes
Mum would lie on the bed and listen to his AMP tales

He would close the door
Lock out four children and speak like two adults
They would share the floor
Husband and wife
In their kitchen sink life

My mum called on Friday
She said, "I've had another hard week.
I know it's only been five months
But Helen, I miss him more than I can speak
I"ve washed the pots and the pans
The plates that I ate from last night
But there's no one to dry up
So I'll leave them to drain at the end of our kitchen sink life"

He would stand and dry

As she cleared all the dirt form the dinner plates

They would take their time

Husband and wife

In their kitchen sink life

RECORDING:

TOMORROW: I SONG ABOUT NEEDING A CUPPA TEA AFTER WRITING SONG 7

I HAVE AN EATING DISORDER

Those of you that know me, also know that I have always grappled with fluctuating weight. I have been 30 kilos heavier and 15 kilos lighter than I am now. The primary reason is that I eat to comfort myself. When I feel anxious or sad or excited, eating evens me out, so I eat what I need to stay alive and then I keep eating what I need to feel calm and counter whatever heightened state I'm in.

I ate too much the day I wrote those 10 songs in 6 hours. Well, on the binge eating scale it wasn't that bad; only one big packet of chips, I didn't succumb to following it with lollies, maybe a whole cake and possibly a pack of biscuits.

In the past, I would've eaten a family block of cadbury's, a large packet of chips, and whipped down the street for a souvlaki or hamburger and back for ice-cream and possibly a little more chocolate or a packet of timtams. I stopped eating chocolate five years ago when my cholesterol started creeping up.

Now, I can't eat like that, my body won't take it. I even lost an organ as a result of my lifetime of bingeing. I still miss my gall bladder.

I know many women and men who eat for comfort and that's why I thought I'd share this song with you. I haven't managed to completely modify my eating behaviour but I'm getting a bit better than I have been in the past and writing a song about over eating kinda helped too.


CHORDS - It's a three chord pop/rock song. A little bit ROCK in the USA I reckon.

LYRICS:

I have an eating disorder
I'm a disorderly eater
I"m not thin I'm not fat
But I prefer the taste of this to that
As long as I feel happy at the point of no return

I can scoff a pack of biscuits
But turn my back on chocolate
And if I walk for an hour
I am likely to devour
A big fat slab of hummingbird cake
And a bag of chips
And that batch of cookies I just baked

I eat a eat a healthy breakfast
Then if I get a little anxious
Or I'm bored
Or I'm sad
there's a milk bar and a cafe
Where they keep my happy happys
That I swallow quickly quickly
Before you all find out

I have an eating disorder
I have an eating disorder

RECORDING:



TOMORROW: SONG 7 IS ABOUT LOVE AND DOING THE DISHES

Lullaby Afternoon

As I write this, it's getting close to the afternoon slump when the whole of Spain take a nap, when the teacher's voice becomes a soporific drone and when I've almost inappropriately dropped off to sleep while teaching someone the C chord.

At the moment, the heater fan is whirring, the traffic has got lazier and a miner bird's whistle punctuates a lull in the afternoon. Song 5, "Lullaby Afternoon", is a quiet song written at 2.40pm on Wednesday 4th July.

If you notice, even this blog entry has a little afternoon laziness about it.


CHORDS: Another song that repeats a 4 chord pattern through the song.

LYRICS:
The neighbours home
I'd like to sleep
Play quietly
She won't hear a peep outta me

She's whistling
A cheerful song
Calls her cat
In a voice all honey seeded mustard warm

In our lullaby afternoon
Our lullaby afternoon

It's 20 to 3
Can I lay on the chair
And watch T.V
Or just sit and stare at the fishtank

Listen to Nth Richmond
The calls of native birds
And quiet housebound people
Who don't like to disturb the neighbours

In our lullaby afternoon

Our lullaby afternoon

RECORDING:

TOMORROW'S SONG IS ABOUT EATING DISORDERS - I WAS HUNGRY!

From Brunswick West to Kurrajong

I've never lived outside of Melbourne, except for 9 months spent in Fiji in another life. I was so homesick for the first three months that I cried nearly everyday and had a pretty rotten time of it. Once I was over that bit, I had a pretty good time. Upon my return to Melbourne all those years ago, I stayed  and other than moving suburbs, have never ventured far from this comfortable city except for holidays and band tours. But, over the last few years I've had a growing desire to leave this comfort of the familiar to experience other places and people on a more permanent basis.

At the moment, I'm thinking of doing the unthinkable, from a Melburnians point of view, and leaving my hometown for Sydney. Of course, the thought brings with it a myriad of anxieties and concerns. From, where will I work and how will I earn money? To, can I really handle the relentless traffic and harder edges of this glittering city? From, where the hell am I going to live? To, how can I leave my daughter? Even though she no longer lives at home, I'm still her mother so shouldn't I at least live in the same state as her?

But there's this insistent call of love and music coming from the north and that road to Sydney is only a few blocks from where I live.

Song 4 is about the call of the road.  The chord progression is unashamedly ripped off from another song but given that I don't mean to profit from the work, and will never release it commercially as it's only part of a writing exercise written in about 36 minutes, I don't much care.

CHORDS: A cliched progression of G D Em C cycled through the entire song.

LYRICS:
In six months time
I'm heading up the Hume
I need a new adventure
Need to fly a little closer to you

Melbourne's been my home
For all my little life
I"m growing tired of it's story
Growing tired of my southbound bass strait eyes

Oh the road leads me on
From Brunswick West to Kurrajong
To your mountain home and your bushman's song
Oh that road leads me on

Could I stay in Bondi Beach?
Afford a harbour view?
Get a houseboat on the Hawkesbury?
Or a chalet in the blue blue mountains?

Will the rentals be too high
The roads always be this clogged
Will I find the perfect house
Will I find another job in Sydney?

Oh the road leads me on

From Brunswick West to Kurrajong

To your mountain home and your bushman's song

Oh that road leads me on

RECORDING

TOMORROW: THE SOUND WORLD OF THE 3PM SLUMP IN NTH RICHMOND, SYDNEY

SONG 3 The Banjo Borrower

I reckon that if you're going to use someone's instrument, you should ask first. It's the polite thing to do.

The day I chose to do the "10 songs in 6 hours" exercise, my Viking Warrior was out working hard. But he'd left his banjo lying in my sightline.

It's not any old banjo either, it's a Gibson RB4 with a walnut resonator which he bought in Nashville at the legendary Gruen's Guitars when we were there last year. I helped choose it, along with the aid of an over the phone consultation to my mate, Adam, back in Australia.

My little let'snotworryaboutyourselfrighteousmoralcode voice suggested I open the case and have a bit of play without asking him. I halfheartedly resisted, but ended up making a hypocrite of myself when temptation got the better of me. As I opened the case, I justified borrowing the instrument by telling myself that I'd been there when he bought the banjo and he was my boyfriend so all share in love and war (hang on that's not right!).  And so, without asking, I got it out of the case and went for it.

Now, my Viking Warrior is a very laid back fellow and wouldn't have minded at all, but I bloody well minded as I indulged in my guilty pleasure.

The song suggests the trouble I should've got into (but didn't) if my fella was a hard arse like me, except I'm not really either, thus the banjo borrowing.

Bloody hell, I'll stop digging now. Here's the rather silly banjo song re-recorded on my rather crap banjo back in Melbourne.

THE BANJO BORROWER
Chords: Just a straight  I IV V combination. Very stock standard and predictable.

Lyrics:
I took his banjo out of it's case
I sat his banjo on my knee
While he's been out working
I've been picking at those strings
Lord, he's gonna crucify me.

I sat at the table and wrote him a song
To sing to him when he comes home
When he pulls up in his tyre fitters truck
I'll sing, "Babe, can't leave your banjo alone"

I took his banjo out of it's case

I sat his banjo on my knee

While he's been out working

I've been picking at those strings

Lord, he's gonna crucify me.

I put his banjo back into his case
Hoping that he'd never guess
But my baby has a way of knowing where I've been
He's so good I may as well confess that

I took his banjo out of it's case

I sat his banjo on my knee

While he's been out working

I've been picking at those strings

Lord, he's gonna crucify me.

RECORDING:

TOMORROW'S SONG IS ABOUT AN INTERSTATE MOVE!

Song 2: The Music Box that Sings When We're Apart

The Sydney 10 songs in 6 hours "Album", is ready for curious listeners. Over the next 9 days I'll pop up a song a day, just so you don't get too overwhelmed. It will give you an idea of what kind of songs came out every 40 minutes over the course of the song writing exercise. They haven't been edited, just rerecorded so you can hear them a bit better.

I've decided Song 1 and 2  are not for public consumption because of personal content I"m not comfortable sharing.  Some songs are like that.


TOMORROW'S SONG IS ABOUT ILLICIT BANJO PLAYING!

Take 1 Writers Block, 2 Instruments, 6 Hours, 10 Songs and a Computer.

I'm having a holiday this week from my normal work teaching music and working at a homelessness service.

I've been looking forward to the free time so I could finish those last three songs for the West Brunswick album. Write them out of my system and move on to recording them was the plan. Well, the best laid plans eh?!

When I came to sit down and write I was so anxious; about finishing which is caused by the ridiculously high expectations I have for myself and my work, about there being no more songs left, and about falling short of what everyone may be expecting from my efforts. Typical songwriterly preoccupations, really.  I was so preoccupied with fear that nothing came out or if it did, I believed it was no good! What to do?

Well, I've been writing long enough to know that these irrational creative fears need to be dealt with immediately so that I can get to the songs sitting behind the anxiety and I have just the antidote. A few years ago, I came across two books. "The Artists Way", written for everyone who wants to live a more creative life and  "The Frustrated Songwriters Handbook", written for blocked songwriters.

In "The Artists Way" the author, Julia Cameron, talks about creative blocks being the product of too many ideas not too few, which made, and still makes, sense to me. "The Frustrated Songwriters Handbook" has exactly the right exercise to shift the block. It throws out a simple challenge to write 20 songs in 12 hours.

I did the exercise a few years ago, albeit in a slightly modified version, and it worked a treat. So I decided to do it again. I set myself a challenge of writing 10 songs in 6 hours. That's an album's worth in one sitting. I found that completing songs 8, 9 and 10 became the most important part of the exercise as this is where I've got stuck with the "West Brunswick" songs.  So on Wednesday at 11am, I sat down and started.

What I did was write the first thing that came into my head over the first chords that arrived under my fingers. One song every 36 minutes. Some are hilarious, some are really poignant, some are mean, some sound like other songs, one is really dirty and one made me cry.

Once each song was finished, I did a rough recording and moved on.

I listened to my "album" at the end of the session. It was great! I felt a real sense of accomplishment, the anxiety was released and I finished feeling lighter and brighter and confident that I can finish those West Brunswick songs now. I might even borrow a mates West Brunswick bungalow for inspiration as I now live in Coburg and do the exercise again next week - what do ya reckon Allie and Adrian?

Stay tuned for the "10 Sydney Songs in a Day Album" on this blog soon - roughly recorded by me on my computer complete with computer noise and dodgy mixing!

Try the challenge yourself and let's do a gig together that showcases our songs.

Helen x