A Five Set Epic At Queen’s Followed By A Jam With DJ, 26 June 2019

Photo of me on the East Court at The Queen’s Club with opponents (from a previous occasion) airbrushed out

Exile. The humiliation of it. Condemned to the role of real tennis supplicants for several weeks while the forces of global domination (cricket branch) took over Lord’s for the world cup.

We Lord’s real tennis players know how to suffer, so many of us have taken up the very generous offer of The Queen’s Club to play there for most of our weeks of exile. I say most, because the first of our wandering weeks coincided with The Queen’s Club ATP tournament for the modern variety of tennis.

But on this day, with the help of the kind professionals at Queen’s, three of us came in search of doubles practice. At one point, I think it was the day before, Ben Ronaldson e-mailed me to say he was having trouble finding us a fourth, but by the time I got to my e-mails he had e-mailed again to say that he had found us a suitable player.

So, Dominic (my doubles partner for this year’s Lord’s tournament) and Bill were joined by Chrissie for a two hour doubles slot. Ben said when I arrived:

I think this should be quite well matched. Try playing level and see what happens.

What happened was a five set epic. Dominic and I started strongly, with him facing Bill and me facing Chrissie. We won the first set 6-2. We tried the alternative server/receiver pairing on the next set, which led to Bill and Chrissie winning that set 2-6.

Dominic and I chose to persevere with the pairing of me facing Bill and Dominic facing Chrissie for the third set. We managed to turn things around and won that close set 6-4. We tried reversing again for the fourth, only to lose that set 1-6. Despite that loss, we chose to stick with that Ian facing Chrissie, Dominic facing Bill for the start of the fifth set; a set we didn’t expect to finish as we were now about 110 minutes into our two-hour slot.

But no-one came along to use the East Court at the end of our slot. Our sole (mostly sleeping) spectator from most of the match had been replaced by a keen scout who was 30 minutes early for his West Court contest. He encouraged us to continue. Or should I simply say that the crowd, as one, was baying for more and urging the metaphorical umpire not to suspend play.

So we saw through the whole of the fifth set, which turned out to be a cracker. Dominic and I got to 5-3 up, only to lose the next two games which (in real tennis, unlike the modern variety) leads to sudden death on the final game which was, as it happened, me and Chrissie doing the serving/receiving.

Somehow, at 2-sets-all, five-games-all, 30-30, with me on serve, I managed to conjure a couple of good-‘uns to seal the match. 6-2, 2-6, 6-4, 1-6, 6-5. Did that matter? Not really. Except that Dominic and I are trying to learn how to play as a pair, so the constant scoreboard pressure and trying to perform as a pair in that circumstance was just what we needed.

Great fun. Nearly two-and-a-half-hours in the end and oh boy did I feel it later in the day.

I don’t think I have played a five-setter in any form of tennis since Keele, when such matches between me and Pudding were quite common:

Coincidentally, much like my Keele experience described above, I developed a slight cold that evening which left me a bit husky for the next couple of days. That was not ideal preparation for a jam with DJ, except that DJ rather liked the variation it gave to my vocal range, despite that variation seeming, to me, rather restrictive.

Ged “Husky” Ladd sings sea shanties?

Still, DJ and I tried a few new ideas, sang a few of our favourites and had a good chat and a good meal. There are far worse ways to spend an evening even when you are a little husky.

Two very enjoyable activities with people who make excellent company.

Annex To My In Darkness Let Me Dwell Performance, 13 June 2019

For those who are interested in hearing some alternative (i.e. other) settings of In Darkness Let Me Dwell, here are some decent recordings from the public domain:

Firstly, John Cooper/Copario/Coperario’s 1606 setting of the verse, performed by Helen Atkinson and Din Ghani.

https://youtu.be/JDPc8PtLJVc

Next up, a rather beautiful rendition of the John Dowland 1610 version of In Darkness Let Me Dwell, sung by Andreas Scholl, accompanied by Edin Karamazow:

https://youtu.be/Ym1kWj1TwkU

Finally, you might enjoy Paint It Black by the Rolling Stones. Please note how very similar the lyrical content is to the verse In Darkness Let Me Dwell, in meaning, albeit not the exact words.

https://youtu.be/O4irXQhgMqg

Musical Polyglots, Improviso, St John’s Smith Square Lunchtime Concert, 16 May 2019

The above picture borrowed from Improviso’s website – click here or through the picture to read more about them.

A second visit for me to the London Festival of Baroque Music in a week – the first with Janie to see Jordi Savall.

The themes for the festival and from the 12 May concert continued in this charming lunchtime concert by Improviso – namely ideas around cross-fertilisation of musical ideas across countries/continents, plus the use of improvisation as part of the musical fabric in the Baroque period.

The concert is described on the festival website through this link – click here…

…and similarly described on the St John’s Smith Square website – click here.

I thought this concert might appeal to John Random, who enjoys these lunchtime concerts when we are both available for such. In fact the timing worked so well for us that John was also available to join me at Lord’s for a while after the concert.

While I was striding my way towards Smith Square, a voice to the right of me said “hello Ian”; it was John Friend, taking lunch in a cafe I was passing. Sadly I couldn’t stop to chat with him, but the irony of running into John Friend while on my way to utilise my “Friend of St John’s” rights to lunchtime concerts was not wasted on either of us.

The concert was lovely, with some unusual works as well as some familiar pieces.

Below is some of the Mecmûa-i Sâz ü Söz played in the traditional Ottoman style, rather than the Wojciech Bobowski adaptation which was played by our Improviso quartet.

https://youtu.be/EYLIASW44kI

I cannot find any examples of Improviso playing the pieces we heard at this lunchtime concert, but they do have several lovely examples on their website – click here, including the Castello sonata, embedded below:

John and I had, in fact, enjoyed seeing Johan Löfving perform before – just a few months ago, at such a lunchtime concert…

…but the addition of three more musicians in Improviso, rather than just the duo, enabled each of the musicians to show their individual and collective talents superbly.

Below you can hear the charming Blavet sonata we heard, on this recording performed by Jed Wentz:

Below is the allegro from the Telemann Trio Sonata we heard, but performed by a different young quartet, Ensemble Tolmetes:

In addition to the several pieces listed on the programme, Improviso also improvised a La Folia, very energetically and beautifully I might say. This, for me, felt like a full circle, as Jordi Savall and his pals had performed a couple of La Folias on the Sunday.

Below, a very different La Folia interpretation from any that I saw this week, but an exceptional one by Jordi Savall, family and pals:

But returning to Improviso, they are a very talented young quartet who seem to take great pleasure in making music together and in explaining what they are doing to a rapt audience.

To round off this Ogblog piece, here are Improviso performing William Byrd’s charming tune, John Come Kiss Me Now, demonstrating their style of improvisation:

Howay, Wey Aye, Man! – A Canny Interview With Jordi Savall Followed By A Canny Concert, L‘Europa Musicale: From The Renaissance To Baroque, Hespèrion XXI, St John’s Smith Square, 12 May 2019

Janie and I have seen Jordi Savall with his various Hespèrion colleagues several times over the years and have bought quite a lot of his recordings. To the extent that we are fans of anyone, we would consider ourselves fans.

Yet I had always assumed that Jordi was pronounced “Yordee” and not, as we learnt at this event, “Geordie“. Haddaway! Yes, really.

How did we find out? Because there was a short interview session an hour ahead of the concert, hosted by Robert Heason, who tossed a couple of open-ended questions at Jordi who then got on with the business of interviewing himself.

Gobby crack an’ all

It was actually really interesting to hear Jordi explain his way of thinking about early music and performance. He comes across as a very learned but likeable man who wears his expertise lightly. His comments on improvisation and the folk origins of serious music were especially interesting.

When the “conversation” ended, there was still nearly half an hour until the concert. We thought we’d take a picture of the instruments on the stage…

…but then almost immediately Jordi returned…

…and warmed up his fingers for a while on the stage…

Then we went to get some refreshments


“Gi’s a drink I’m gyezend, our lass”, (or words to that effect), said Ged.
“Are ye in a fettle, pet?”, (or words to that effect), asked Daisy

Aside: I realise that some folk who like to read about music are not aware that Ian and Janie are also Ged and Daisy. The origins of those pet names are explained here.

We saw “the nice couple” from the front row of many concerts previously reported, sitting a few seats away from us during the talk, but when we returned to our seats it transpired that their booked seats for the actual concert were right next to ours this time. Nice.

Of course the music was gorgeous. Here is a link to the SJSS resource so you can see and read about the concert.

We had seen Andrew Lawrence-King with Jordi before, in The Celtic Viol concert at The Wigmore Hall six years ago

…but not with Xavier Díaz-Latorre, who I don’t think we’d seen before at all. His guitar and theorbo playing was excellent.

Below is a really nice video that shows Jordi and Xavier’s skills, though not one of the pieces we heard:

Below is some Jordi viol solo work, including some pieces we heard:

The entire concert is due to be broadcast on BBC Radio 3 on 5 June 2019, so enthusiasts can hear everything we heard.

It was a really interesting and lovely concert. It is always a treat to see Jordi Savall and his pals perform. And now we know to pronounce the name “Geordie”, which is very important.

After saying goodbye to the nice couple…

…aw’s clamming, as was Daisy…

…so we picked up some shawarmas on the way home, to round off a very enjoyable evening with a tasty supper.

By George This Was A Good Concert, Handel & Telemann, Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin, Wigmore Hall, 4 May 2019

We love the Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin. We first saw them at The Wig many years ago and have seen them a good few times since, both in London and in Berlin.

We hadn’t seen this orchestra for a while, though, so we thought we’d see if we could get hot seats for this concert. We could.

In truth I was not familiar with the Handel Op. 3 Concerti Grossi; I don’t think they get all that much of an airing, being seen as somewhat composite or compilation works.

But in the hands of fine performers, such music is sheer delight, as demonstrated by this concert.

Here is a link to the Wigmore Hall resource on the concert.

This was our third visit to The Wig in just over a fortnight. In truth, I didn’t think we’d get our preferred seats for all of them but we did. NOT a complaint.

I was reminded of both of our other recent visits for a couple of silly reasons.

Our most recent visit had been The Orlando Consort singing 14th and 15th Century music:

The in joke from that concert was that almost everyone involved with composing that 14th and 15th century English stuff was named John.

It occurred to me that a similar naming commonality could be applied to this baroque period, with the composers, the Hanoverian English kings and this evening’s conductor all named Georg/George.

The other recent visit was to see a Samuel Pepys themed concert performed by The Sixteen

…at which we were joined by Robin Simpson, experiencing The Wig and such music for the first time. At 91 going on 92, Robin demonstrated his remarkable observational skills when he remarked, the next time I saw him, that two recorder players were listed for The Sixteen at that Pepy’s concert, but there was no sign of either of them on the night.

I couldn’t explain their absence – perhaps some passing reader can. I guessed that there was a late decision to omit the recorders, perhaps due to the indisposition of one of the performers or perhaps, on Harry Christopher’s reflection, for artistic reasons.

Anyway, returning to the Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin concert, once again there were two recorder players listed, but, come the interval, there had been no sign of recorders.

What on earth is going on in the world of baroque recorder players, I wondered. Is there some sort of censorship going on, whereby recorder players are being prevented from expressing themselves? Are the recorder players being kidnapped, imprisoned or worse?

The answer, at least in the matter of the Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin concert, came towards the end of the evening, when Anna Fusek put down her violin and picked up a recorder, which she played (beautifully, as did every player with every instrument that night) in the Soave from Telemann’s Canonic Sonata VI. Below is someone else’s recording of that sonata.

https://youtu.be/-twe0crDPPg

Below is a recording of Academy of St Martin In the Fields playing Handel’s Op 3 No 1 Concerto Grosso, by which time Michael Bosch had metaphorically bonked his oboe on the head and picked up a second recorder to join Anna. Recorder mystery fully solved.

If you haven’t seen the Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin before…or even if you have…the following video should be a treat for you. They are playing Handel’s Water Music, under Georg Kallweit, who also led the orchestra at the 4 May 2019 concert.

They really are a top notch orchestra. Janie and I feel lucky and privileged to have seen them several times. This Handel/Telemann concert, while not the most exciting programme we have heard them play, was just the ticket for us at the end of a day of (similarly baroque) sporting activity.

Ullo John! Got A New Motet? – The Secrets Of Heaven, The Orlando Consort, Wigmore Hall, 25 April 2019

You don’t get to hear a lot of 14th and 15th century English music, not even in the early music series at the Wigmore Hall. So this concert by The Orlando Consort looked well worth booking and indeed it was a superb concert.

The members of the consort each introduced chunks of the concert – all clearly knowledgeable fellows but wearing their learning lightly on the night.

Mark Dobell, for example, theorised that most of the English composers of the period were either named John or “anon”, when he announced a block of pieces in the second half of the concert. Even the composer known simply as Forest was probably John Forest, we were assured.

Here is a link to the Wigmore Hall resource for this concert.

Some of the names in the composer column might be a bit confusing. Roy Henry, for example, might be King Henry V, King Henry VI or just possibly King Henry IV. Trent Codices is not the name of a modern US composer, nor a fellow who opens the bowling for New Zealand, but a collection of musical manuscripts from the Italian city, Trent. Who knew?

If you want to hear and see some 15th century music performed by The Orlando Consort, the following video from a Library of Congress concert in 2017 might be for you. But it is mostly composers from mainland Europe, not English composers of the period, so no Johns. The music starts some 4’50” in:

Whereas, if you would like to hear some extracts from of The Orlando Consort singing the sort of English polyphony that we heard at the Wigmore Hall, then this short extract vid from a CD promo might be for you. You even get some John and anon: including some John Dunstaple:

The singing was beautiful throughout the concert and we sensed that this quartet of singers take great pleasure in singing this music and with each other.

The hall wasn’t full but it was quite busy. The “nice front row couple” that I quite often see at The Wig and SJSS were there in the front row, just fancy!, a few seats along from us. We chatted only briefly this time.

Janie and I hadn’t seen The Orlando Consort before, although we had probably seen most if not all four of the individuals in other choirs and consorts. Anyway, we most certainly will enjoy seeing them perform again if/when we get the chance.

Music From The Chapel Royal With Excerpts From Pepys’ Diary, Wigmore Hall, 17 April 2019

Russ London — (Russ London) [CC BY-SA 2.5 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5)], from Wikimedia Commons

The combination of subject matter, music and the choice of performers for this concert made this a bit of a “must see” for me at the Wigmore Hall. Janie rarely graces that Hall on a Wednesday, as it is not so convenient for her after a surgery day, but on this occasion she felt motivated to join me.

Here is a link to the Wigmore Hall resource for this concert.

I have long been fascinated by Samuel Pepys as a character and as a diarist. Indeed, I nearly named this website “Poopys Diary” rather than Ogblog, as a nod to two of my favourite diaries, those of Messrs Pepys and Pooter.

I had followed with great interest Christopher Page’s Gresham lecture series on 16th and 17th century guitar, not least the lecture on Samuel Pepys and the Guitar:

This concert seemed set to supplement that interest in the form of live performance.

Also motivated to come along was Robin Simpson, one of my nonagenarian friends from Lord’s who still plays real tennis – sometimes rather too well. When Robin mentioned, a few weeks earlier, that he is a member of the Samuel Pepys Club, I mentioned that we were going to this concert and Robin said he was unaware of it. I gave Robin the details. A day or two later I took an excited telephone call from Robin to tell me that he had got himself a ticket in the third row.

So when Janie and I got to “The Wig” just after 19:00 I was unsurprised to see Robin in the bar. We joined him and arranged some interval drinks. As Robin turned out to be a “Wigmore Hall virgin”, we acted as his guide, not least taking him into the hall through the quieter back stairs route that makes so much sense if you are sitting at the front of the hall.

I was especially keen to hear some of Pelham Humfrey’s music, as I had read about him but, to my knowledge, not previously seen any of his music performed.

The web is not awash with high quality Pelham Humfrey, but here is a link to a fine recording of O Lord My God from the 1960s, the Guildford Cathedral Choir – copyright prevents embedding this link but you can click and listen here.

Here is a link to a less-than-special but rather charming performance of By The Waters Of Babylon from a festival in Brazil:

It was also wonderful to see Elizabeth Kenny playing a couple of solo pieces on the five course guitar as well as her more familiar appearance with the theorbo. Elizabeth Kenny doesn’t play solos much, but I am able to find her charming 10 minute video-essay on the theorbo…

Sadly there don’t seem to be any vids of Elizabeth Kenny playing the five course guitar, but here is a video of Ramiro Morales playing some of the Francesco Corbetta we heard:

Another highlight was to hear Beauty Retire, a piece attributed to Samuel Pepys, not least because he mentions it several times in his diary, describing it as his own. In truth, Cesare Morelli seems to have had quite a lot to do with Beauty Retire and indeed all the pieces attributed to Pepys. Here and below is a recording of the song:

In truth, the whole concert felt like a highlight. The performances were uniformly excellent, as one might expect from Harry Christophers superb ensemble, The Sixteen, together with that fine actor, Michael Pennington, reading passages from Pepys.

The Sixteen are one of my favourite early music ensembles. They were one of the main “happening things” back in the late 1980s when I started listening to early music. I first got to see them live some 30 years ago when my old firm, Binders, sponsored one of their concerts:

Coincidentally, my first stage sighting of Michael Pennington, the fine actor who did the narration for the 2019 concert, was around the same time as my first sighting of The Sixteen.

But returning to the April 2019 concert, it was a superb evening of 17th century music and words. The audience was hugely appreciative at the end. There was a delightful encore too, but I didn’t recognise it and Harry Christophers didn’t announce it. If someone reading this can chime in with the name of the piece, I’d be grateful. I’d guess from the texture of the sound it was by Pelham Humfrey. Was it O The Sad Day? Have a listen; it’s lovely:

In any case, Janie, Robin and I all had a most enjoyable evening.

Inspired By The Sistine Chapel, The Tallis Scholars, St John’s Smith Square, 14 April 2019

Hanging about in that part of Westminster is becoming a habit. The Abbey on the Friday…

…and that was not even my first visit of the week to Dean’s Yard…

…then this wonderful Tallis Scholars concert at the start of the St John’s Smith Square (SJSS) Holy Week Festival.

It is hard to explain why, as non-religious people, this type of religious music works so well for me and Janie. I suppose it is simply because we love the music of that Renaissance period and the finest music from the period tends to be the sacred rather than the secular music.

Janie and I enjoyed a pre concert and an interval drink in the crypt, a venue which Janie always enjoys. Great to see something close to a full house at SJSS too; we don’t so often see that, sadly. The place seems warmer when full.

Here is a link to the SJSS resources on this concert. For those who don’t wish to click, the main take away from that material is that this concert showcases music that was guarded by Popes during the high Renaissance within the confines of the Sistine Chapel.

Lots of Palestrina with the magnificent Allegri Miserere as the highlight to kick off the second half of the gig.

Here is a beautiful video of The Tallis Scholars performing the Miserere, albeit some 25 years ago:

As in that 1994 version, at our concert several of the voices spread out across the concert hall, to give an intriguing surround-sound effect.

Below, from that same 1994 concert I believe, is some Palestrina, Nunc Dimittis, not one of the pieces we heard in April 2019:

The Tallis Scholars are always top notch – so professional and such marvellous voices. We hadn’t seen them for a while…

…the last time we saw them I picked up from the encore the delightful Heinrich Isaac song, Innsbruck Ich Muss Dich Lassen, for my Gresham Society performance that year:

No such simplicity in April 2019 – The Tallis Scholars encore was Lotti’s Crucifixus for eight voices. At least seven-and-three-quarter voices above my pay grade.

Here is another mob, confusingly named Tallis Vocalis, all performing that lovely Lotti at an appropriate pay grade:

The Tallis Scholars concert we enjoyed 14 April 2019 was a simply lovely concert. If you ever get a chance to see them, we really do recommend them highly.

Katarina Karnéus & Julius Drake, Wigmore Hall, 8 April 2019

To “The Wig” at lunchtime for a concert of songs.

Romantic music from the late 19th early 20th century. Not the sort of music that Daisy normally goes for, but there were several songs by Alma Mahler in this concert; as Daisy knows Marina Mahler, the granddaughter, Janie was interested enough to give it a try.

Actually, the simplicity of the solo voice and piano pleased Daisy; the whole concert was very relaxing. Even the Alban Berg, which I thought might be a bit impenetrable, wasn’t.

I really liked the Sibelius song they performed on encore – Var det en dröm? – which I don’t think I had ever heard before.

Here is a link to the Wigmore Hall resources on this concert.It was one of those Radio 3 jobbies, so if you got here soon enough you can read all about it and/or listen to the concert on-line – click here.

On Janie’s suggestion, we had taken a sneak peak at Massimo Dutti before we got to The Wig. I had some colourful shirts put aside for me to try on after the concert.

But once the performance had ended, we both had a bit of a hunger on, so went to the Wigmore Hall restaurant, just for some soup, to tide us over until evening. Butternut squash soup it was, very tasty.

If you look at the table behind us, I inadvertently caught the performers at lunch –
Julius Drake glancing in our direction while talking to the woman to his left; Katarina Karnéus sitting to Julius Drake’s right

After soup, we legged it to Massimo Dutti where the young lady who had been serving us earlier was just about to give up on us and put the shirts away again. I bought four, which I shall always associate with this very enjoyable afternoon and concert.

Art For Art’s Sake: An Evening With Simon Jacobs Recording I Only Have Eyes For You, Followed BY Dinner At The Brackenbury Wine Rooms, 21 March 2019

Did I mention that I had a recording deal lined up? Yeh, Simon Jacobs, who does producing as well as recording and all that – he signed me up to do a demo in his high tech studio. This could be the start of my stratospheric popular music career and not before time, frankly.

Now Simon is a very musical chap and has been so for longer than I have known him, which is well north of 40 years. Here, for example, is his latest hit, Ghosts, which he released many weeks ago, but it refuses to fade in the Spotify rankings, still getting infeasible thousands of streams a week on that platform – the YouTube is below so you can also see the vid:

So what, in the name of all that is good and pure, was Simon thinking when he suggested that I record the Warren & Durbin classic, I Only Have Eyes For You. Not in the original Dick Powell pitch/key of C (heck knows that is hard enough for me, even with the sheet music to look at), but nine whole stops up the register in the Art Garfunkel range.

Nine whole stops. That’s like, Notting Hill Gate to South Ruislip, if you are daft enough to go west from Notting Hll. Even Ian Pittaway, my music teacher, who has crazy ideas about my ability to reach high notes, only nudges me three or very occasionally five stops up.

Here’s the result of Simon’s wild musical concept:

The idea for this recording session/evening emerged some six months ago, when Simon and I last dined in Hammersmith…

…and discussed the song, I Only Have Eyes For You, which I butchered lyrically for Casablanca The Musical…

…the revival of which I was just about to go and see in September 2018:

Anyway, Simon said that he much preferred the Art Garfunkel version of the song:

While I complained that even the original Dick Powell was wicked hard for me to play and/or sing.

But Simon insisted that his recording gadgetry could rectify any minor failings in my singing and that he thought he could, with a little effort, turn me into a latter-day Art.

It seemed like a jolly good excuse for a get together and/but life seemed to intervene for a while, so a ridiculous number of months passed before we actually got round to implementing the plan.

On the day, I arrived at Simon’s West London studio, which also doubles as his house, late afternoon/early evening, ready for a rollicking rock’n’roll evening of music.

First up, obviously, we indulged in some appropriate herbal substances; a big mug of tea each, together with some chat about really trendy topics, such a Brexit.

Then down to business with the recording.

I felt a little strange working on that particular song, that particular week. A couple of days earlier I’d been to the funeral of our neighbour, Barry Edson, who was an aficionado of film musicals. I’d had several interesting conversations with Barry about Warren and Durbin songs and Barry had shown me interesting stuff about those song writers from his library-sized collection of books on the topic.

But back to me recording I Only Have Eyes For You in an Art-like style with the help of computerised sound engineering.

Actually it was a very interesting process for me. Simon clearly does this sort of thing a lot, but mostly with his own, not with anyone else’s, voice.

We had a rehearsal run through. Then we took a recording take which sounded crackly. That led to some rearrangement of the microphone, the music and me. I even offered to remove my socks but those lengths were deemed unnecessary.

Then a couple more takes, at which point Simon thought we might try to repair take four with some fragments, but after we’d done that, I suggested one more try at a better straight-through take.

I’m glad I did that, because the final take was, in my opinion, quite a lot better than the previous ones (I realise that notion might be hard for the listener to believe).

Then Simon really got down to doing the sound engineering thing.

Simon is geeking my song

It was a bit like having your homework marked in front of the school teacher. On many of my notes, there was a huge amount of vibrato which Simon was able to smooth a bit.

Imagine, as an analogy, someone using fancy software to turn my legendary illegible handwriting into something that looks more like a legible script.

Is there any handwriting-smoothing software that might help? – September 1989 sample

The music software would help each note find its probable home on the scale. But sometimes the thing I had sung was closer to some other note than the note that the purist might fussily describe as the “right” note.

Actually I believe I did sing all the right notes…just not necessarily in the right order.

But it didn’t matter because Simon’s fancy software could shift pretty much whatever I sang to the exact place it belonged on the scale.

On just one occasion did Simon have to say, “I’m not even sure what you’re supposed to be singing there – may I please see the music?” – that was on the second intro couplet, which Art Garfunkle doesn’t sing.

And there is the one note that I strangled so very comprehensively that no amount of tinkering seemed able to repair it. Let’s imagine that I was gulping with emotion on that note.

Then some more listenings and some more tinkerings…

…by which time I was getting quite excited and wondered whether we should try more and more takes, on the basis that my voice seemed to be getting better and better each time.

The conversation then drifted towards artistes who had spent months or even years trying to perfect individual tracks for release.

I wondered whether we might lock ourselves away, perfecting this track, for, say, five years, in order to emerge, not only with a sure-fire hit on our hands, but with Brexit over. Simon thought that five years is probably not long enough…to ensure that Brexit is over with.

Anyway, in case you missed it above, or want to hear it again, here’s the end result:


Timothy then joined me and Simon for dinner at The Brackenbury Wine Rooms, which was a suitably convenient and high quality location for some good food & wine plus some top notch natter. It was a good opportunity to get to know Timothy a little better – the only time I’d met him before was at Simon’s Circle Line album launch, about 18 months ago, which was not an occasion for getting to know people well.

On parting, I suggested dates for me to return to record the rest of the album. But Simon just shook his head politely and solemnly. “A one-off recording deal, that was”, he said.

“Not even a B-side for the single?” I asked.

Simon shook his head politely and solemnly again, as both Simon and Timothy said, “goodbye,” not, “au revoir.”

But…

…and here’s a thing…

…when I listened to the track again the next morning, it sounded far better to me than it had the evening before. I said so to Simon, in a thank you message. Simon’s reply, perhaps similarly inspired by a re-listening:

Glad you like your recorded performance! Do let me know when you’re ready to record your whole album!! 

So now I have an album deal lined up? Yeh, that well-known music producer Simon Jacobs…this must be the next stage of my stratospheric popular music career and not before time, frankly.