An image of the band playing together

Escape from Spotify

It’s been a challenge figuring out how to negotiate the interface between technology, music and our public, particularly in the face of a pandemic.  Having had a look at the horrors of Spotify, we’ve committed ourselves to Bandcamp, which at least offers the possibility of actually selling an album.

What in particular are the horrors of Spotify? This Wikipedia article sums it up pretty nicely. Our experience has been that Spotify plays your music for basically free, does almost nothing for the artist and undercuts any actual online sales of your music. Why would anyone buy it?  

Nevertheless, we did in fact release some tunes which you can listen to on Spotify.

The game involving attempting to draw in numbers of people to listen and appreciate the songs, a game played by millions of unsatisfied musicians, is long and frustrating, compared to the joy of playing for a live audience (usually followed by selling a number of CDs). But of course that particular activity is off the table for now, so here we are!  I did in the meantime hear from someone who hosted us in a house concert three years back, who would like us to play later this year. 

What you can expect from us next…

A Celtic festival on Vancouver Island has offered us a spot to play a “quarantune” video of us singing “Silent Beneath Trees” which I will post here once it’s done. 

In the meantime you can hear a live performance of “Silent Beneath Trees” on YouTube.

We’ve been practicing on JamKazam, four at a time since the technology again doesn’t seem capable of supporting more simultaneous players than that.  However, it’s a joy to be able to join one another musically again, and we’ve been learning a raft of new tunes. 

Here’s one we’ll be putting together, shot by me in our living room: “Let’s Aim High!

It’s an absurd song which has been annoying me for years, refusing to go away; in the process of paying it some attention I finished it, which I guess is only to be expected.

Spring has arrived and little plants are coming up in pots. There’s miner’s lettuce growing in the garden and the garlic survived the winter handsomely. Nevertheless there’s a hint of winter still in the air, and I find myself anxiously waiting for the first sunny day when it will be warm enough to bike around without a jacket. It may also be warm enough for some of my choirs to practice outside, socially distanced and masked to be sure. And best of all will be the time when we can do what we like, where we like.

When that time comes we’ll be playing for the release of my book, about which more later!