(no subject)
Listening to Alanis Morrisette from ten years ago (because, yes, I'm old). Why wasn't it given to me that I could sing? I mean really sing? It seems to me that that's the greatest gift of all the arts.
Oh well, I can still have fun singing along. Words that seem written for me.
I'm broke but I'm happy, I'm poor but I'm kind,
I'm short but I'm healthy, yeah.
I'm high but I'm grounded, I'm sane but I'm overwhelmed,
I'm lost but I'm hopeful, baby.
And what it all comes down to
Is that everything's gonna be fine, fine, fine...
I discovered something odd. I think I've always forced my voice into being something it wasn't, both speaking and singing. I wanted it to be deeper, sharper, more resonant than it is. I figured out that if I sing like that chick that sings that song -- I don't know who it is, but it's on the mall loop tape:
If I could fall into the sky
Do you think time would pass me by...
-- In other words, if I sing in a breathier, hoarser, more girly voice... my throat stops hurting and I can sing more notes without struggling. (My throat always hurts when I sing, which I figure means I'm doing something wrong.) But I didn't want that voice, I wanted Stevie Nicks, or Maddy Prior, or Alanis Morrisette, or something or someone. (Not that their voices are alike, of course; they aren't.) Imagine realizing at thirty-six that my natural voice is more like that "if I should fall" chick, whoever she is. But I don't want to sing like that.
Oh well, I can still have fun singing along. Words that seem written for me.
I'm broke but I'm happy, I'm poor but I'm kind,
I'm short but I'm healthy, yeah.
I'm high but I'm grounded, I'm sane but I'm overwhelmed,
I'm lost but I'm hopeful, baby.
And what it all comes down to
Is that everything's gonna be fine, fine, fine...
I discovered something odd. I think I've always forced my voice into being something it wasn't, both speaking and singing. I wanted it to be deeper, sharper, more resonant than it is. I figured out that if I sing like that chick that sings that song -- I don't know who it is, but it's on the mall loop tape:
If I could fall into the sky
Do you think time would pass me by...
-- In other words, if I sing in a breathier, hoarser, more girly voice... my throat stops hurting and I can sing more notes without struggling. (My throat always hurts when I sing, which I figure means I'm doing something wrong.) But I didn't want that voice, I wanted Stevie Nicks, or Maddy Prior, or Alanis Morrisette, or something or someone. (Not that their voices are alike, of course; they aren't.) Imagine realizing at thirty-six that my natural voice is more like that "if I should fall" chick, whoever she is. But I don't want to sing like that.