Song and a Chat

Episode #197:   Let Her Know    (Song starts at 5:19)

Song #156, Let Her Know, was composed in 1990. Back then, I was starting to think that’s a reasonable amount of songs.

The demo on this episode was recorded a decade later. And here we are in 2024. Wow. 34 years later, I find myself with 800 songs. It was fun, as always, listening to the demo, playing parts of 'Let Her Know', talking about where it came from, how it came together, what inspired the song.

What inspired the song were a series of episodes that obviously happened years ago. But the thing about art is: in brings memories to the surface, very strongly - so strongly, it feels like yesterday.

The arts are a means to exercise the grey matter, there’s no doubt about that! But more than that, it really gives us an opportunity to explore more of ourselves than is perhaps immediately apparent. You can go deep within, rediscovering old memories.

Each song is a complete surprise to me during the composing process. As you wade in and make a start, so much happens. You establish the mood. In no time, a band is playing in my mind - perhaps an orchestra, backing vocals, everything including the kitchen sink. That amazes me.

And yet it all comes down to the honest feeling, the feeling that caused me to pick up a pen and write an A4 page of lyrics.

Then the morning comes, when the mood hits me, I remember the words. I grab a coffee and a pen and take a seat at the piano.

For me it’s like a performance, writing a song, I’m in my skin, in the room with the piano of course, but part of me has gone somewhere else - many places: I’m on stage in an imagined future, I’m back in time, recalling those strong feelings, how the events unfolded. It’s like a start stop movie, for me.

It has the effect of making you feel really alive, your mind goes over and over a scene, replaying what happened, and you provide the sound track to the movie in your head.

At least, that’s how it is for me. It’s the most natural process for me. It’s a total joy, there’s no struggle, no frustration, and for that I feel incredibly grateful.

Let her know is about a young fellow struggling with something: he’s met someone that’s hit him right between the eyes. Should he let her know? What would happen? How would that feel? What subsequent events would that set in motion?

Putting big feelings like this into music is a great move. It gets it off your shoulders and it might turn out to be exactly what someone needs to hear somewhere down the track - even 34 years later!

I have a seascape exhibition on presently (I’m also an artist). Outcomes will be what they’ll be… will I sell the paintings? I don’t know. I hope so!

But what counts for me at least is: each painting is an expression of joy. It wasn’t a fight to get the paint to flow, to mix the right colours - the colours I could see in my mind (like the sounds I hear).

It’s so like the songwriting process.

I hope you enjoy this weeks episode, recording them is a real pleasure  each week - an online performance of spoken word and music, with plenty of humour and entertainment.

I’m glad I took the time to write some words down and then added a music accompaniment as I winged the melody. Back in 1990. It's such a great feeling, and it’s also incredibly good fun and endlessly fascination to be exploring the creative process of songwriting here on this podcast.

Here we go again:  Let Her Know. Enjoy!

Episode #196: Home Straight  (Song starts at  2:40)

This episode’s song would be a ‘protest song’ about the way we are not looking after the world & how out of touch with nature we have become.

Every now and then a song like this sneaks up on me. When it happens, I just go with the flow. It’s a great way to let off some steam. It’s also a very creative & effective way of dealing with some big feelings.

The trick is, it doesn’t hurt anyone. It’s a great place to put anger, the arts - because we can harness all that sometimes explosive energy and release it very quickly, rather than doing something pointless and destructive like booting a washing basket or something, you end up creating a piece of art.

The handy thing is, the resulting piece of art/music can then be a very positive thing to have brought into the world. It might be song with legs - a song that might resonate with others who’ve felt the same big feelings about a certain issue.

In this case, what inspired me to put pen to paper initially was this: those of you that have been following my podcast know that I get out in nature to reset. Particularly, I find being by the water does it for me.

Yes, I’m a fisherman, but a successful trip out for me might be 2 caught and released wee ones. It’s really about observing nature. More than that, I’ve discovered it’s about being connected to the bigger picture. A feeling of connectedness and optimism and energy are often the things I return home with - the catch - hey, maybe that’s an idea for a song.

That’s how creativity works. Once you makes a start, you’re in the flow and one creative idea leads to another.

Anyway back to what inspired this song, I looked up from my favourite fishing spot to see what appeared to be an oil rig of some description in the Port Phillip Bay (here in Melbourne, Australia). Alarm bells. But then it turns out apparently it was just ‘resting there’, hmm…

That got me on to thinking about all the ways we are not doing great things to this beautiful world we live in.

All the lyrics just came through my pen, a strong meter helped. It gave me the momentum & helped with the flow, the phrasing. In no time at all I’d filled 2 A4 pages with verses and choruses.

When it came to writing the music a couple of days later, it was the feeling that came through the words that reignited the energy, the passion to get the job done.

The melody and chords and song structure all came with a rush, very naturally. I had to force myself to stop and jot down my ideas then carry on, back in the flow.

The result is: song #628 fits me like a glove. In terms of the vocal range, the style ( the words are very ‘me’), the melody has natural highs and lows, the chords and the bass line all make sense.

I think that’s the best sort of song: the most ‘natural’. You can chip away and construct from bits and pieces , but quite often, the end result can be a song that sounds a little contrived. In my experience, these songs can be frustrating to record, as the energy doesn’t seem to flow.

It’s an endlessly fascinating process to be talking about each week.

I’ve just been away camping at the beach for a week. It was bliss, just letting the somewhat unseasonable sort of changeable weather roll around me (and ‘through’ me, it seemed, eg: the night I tried 2 casts in a howling 70km wind that got up from nowhere).

I include a couple of minutes of chat, which I recorded back home at my local beach the other night. On the spur of the moment, I added some piano music as I listened back to it.

I find it very relaxing to listen to these podcast episodes. I have a Seascape exhibition opening shortly, so I’ve been up til 3am painting. I like to review my work, so as I painted, I listened to 3 randomly selected podcast episodes in a row: Crossroads, In The Scheme Of Things and I wish. I found them to be interesting, and informative, funny and entertaining.

If you find you’ve enjoyed this episode,

Episode #195: White Angels  (Song starts at 5:51)

On this episode we are looking at the 2nd song I wrote after I arrived in Melbourne in 1997. I'd already written 385 songs in New Zealand before this one. I came to Melbourne as it was a rite of passage, of sorts, for kiwi songwriters to jump the ditch.

I was here to set up camp, to be here for some time, to continue on - or perhaps more accurately start again - on my creative path. I needed to find some more band players, and I really wanted to get cracking again, here, in a new country.

Songwriting is something has pretty much always ticked along for me. In 1997 once I’d settled in to life in the city, I picked up a newspaper and there was a headline that really hit me between the eyes: 17 young people had overdosed in 3/4 hour in Melbourne's cbd.

It struck me what an awful time that must have been for those involved - the young people themselves, their families, the ambulance drivers.

A scene unfolded in my minds eye and I didn’t shut it down. It became a movie. This in turn inspired the lyrics. Improvising music to words (or while watching images) is something that I find comes to easily to me. I think it’s because all the emotion is already there.

I’ve always had the ability to ‘roll a film’ in my mind. I think we all do, don’t we? (I draw cartoon animals. So if I think of say, a llama playing saxophone, there he is, moving around, eyes shut wailing away..hmm, maybe I shouldn’t mention that publicly.)

Anyway, as I read the newspaper article, a really strong feeling took hold of me and the words streamed off my pen.

When it came time for the music, a gospel sounding riff came through my finger tips on the piano keys. It set up the first verse and there I was: well underway, again, with another song.

Over the intervening years, I think I was perhaps a little bit hard on myself, in terms of whether I thought this song was good enough to release.

Us artists can be too tough on ourselves. Sometimes nothing we’ve produced ever seems good enough, which is strange, really.

Pieces of art & songs, are all like stepping stones along the way for the artist. I think: if the art or music is of a certain standard (it ‘passes the muster’), put it out there and move on.

That’s what I’ve been doing with this podcast - and my blog: 195 weeks of sharing what I’m up to, some of the how to. I'm looking to share and help people along the way. Encouraging people along a creative path is the idea.

Because it can’t help to be a healing path. You learn about yourself - like the line in white angels: 'the past clears, the path clears and today is much less blurred.'

As I’ve recorded these episodes, I’ve realised even more just how powerful it is to write a song. A song brings back so many memories. It's got be good for your brain to be used like that. The very same song is going to have different connotations, bring to mind different memories, for different people. That’s powerful.

The listener has an emotional response and again, this can also be a healing thing. So feels really, really good to be a songwriter.

It’s nice to be sharing some of my processes here on this podcast. In this case, I’ve rediscovered a sort of a gospel ballad. I’m so pleased I wrote it - and I’m pleased that I recorded the demo back in 2000. I have played this song in restaurants as a piano solo piece, but I’ve never sung it live.

I hope you enjoy another song and chat, here we go,

More here: Lyrics, links to music and art www.petepascoe.wordpress.com

Episode #194: Parachutes    (Song starts at 4:40)

Back in 1993, I had a residency as a pianist at a resort in Wairakei, near Taupo, in New Zealand. To rejuvenate myself - and lift my spirits - while I know I was very lucky to have this sort of gig, being a pianoman has it’s ups and downs. During the daytime, I’d often get out into nature. I’d play golf or go trout fishing.

I wrote the words for song #303, Parachutes, as I sat in my old van Hercules one late morning. I’d taken a drive to a vantage point where I knew there was a fantastic view of Lake Taupo, with the volcanic plateau as a back drop. It was a pristine early winter’s morning of blue sky and water.

It had a been a big night, the night before. After some persuasion (a conversation in a bar after the gig), I’d finally been convinced to go parachuting the next day. I woke in the morning with a bad hangover and a sinking feeling of doom - which was quickly alleviated by a phone call “ It’s too breezy, we’ll have to skip it this morning”.

I got away with it.

As I wrote the lyrics, the winter breeze had chosen to be kind - kind to me, by blowing early, then calming down for some other parachutists, who were now hanging against the distant storm clouds in the distance. Although I wouldn’t have minded their view, I certainly wasn’t wishing I was up there.

Comfortable in my van, I imagined their view. It reminded me how free I was. Young, single, on the road - the future was wide open.

I was missing my co-songwriter buddy, Paul Dredge. He’d recently left - onto other things -  so I was licking my wounds a bit, determined to carry on.

So when it came to writing the music, back in the incredibly peaceful Kuratau, where I was based at the time, I had a go at writing an ‘up’ sort of song that Paul and I might have written together, with Paul on guitar.

Fast forward to 2023, I found my self recording a demo midway through this episode. Something was missing, and then it hit me. Another voice!

So I went back and recorded another vocal part (in the style of Finn brothers, Every brothers, etc) and I think Parachutes finally came together. Paul and I still enjoy singing together like this.

Another year is coming to close. It’s been a goodie for me: I’ve chosen to spend lots of time creating music and art. It’s a timeless time. I’m in another world. I leave all my worries, all the ‘goings on’ behind and I’m completely in the zone when I write words, music and paint pictures.

Paul and I are close to finishing our 6th Folk Rock album . The rock band PP and the Patient Hum are closing in on another one. You can find my music here: www.petepascoe.bandcamp.com  (also streaming on the usual platforms).

Looking forward producing to a stack more music and ain 2024.

Ok join me in Hercules the van, over looking the lake, back in 1993:

Church bells are ringing from somewhere afar

Times gliding by, day by day,

I’m biding time and I gaze

At the parachutes in the sky…

Enjoy.

Lyrics and more art and music here on my blog www.petepascoe.Wordpress.com

Episode #193: Soul Yo-Yo     (Song starts at 5:08)

Ever wondered about all the personal ups and downs we have and how - in some of the more extreme moments - we seem to bring to light aspects of ourselves we perhaps don’t regularly access? I wonder why we wait for those times of crises to express and act on more of our potential?

That was the inspiration for the words of song #43 Soul Yo-Yo, Written in 1998. ‘We’re barely in touch with our souls, closest to them in our pain’

When I arrived in Melbourne (from NZ, back in 1997), it was quite an adjustment to make, living in the big city.

The normal ensuing ups and downs of settling into somewhere new resulted in me writing a lot in a diary - some of which, in turn, found it’s way into lyrics for my songs as I found my way along.

I was lucky. I found gigs relatively straightaway and, after a while, I started a stall at the arts market selling my CDs and art (which I still do today).

In between gigs and markets, sometimes life in the city was quite challenging. Seeing people who were homeless as I took the tram to a gig (where I entertained in the shiny environment, performing for clientele with plenty of money to buy dinner) played on my mind.

Also, I missed the easily accessible NZ outdoors, where I was used to heading for several times a week to help cope with city life: ‘The country feeds my soul’.

Looking at the bigger picture, the lyrics touch on the idea of perhaps doing a bit of work on the self regularly: ‘It’s soul money in the bank’

I was without a band at the time & I was in the process of trying to find some players for a rock band (And I did - Pete Pascoe and the Patient Hum - I’m busy finishing our 3rd album, presently).

So I wrote Soul Yo-Yo for a non existent band, planning to present it sometime in the future (it’s in the genre of a lively crowded house song).

I was determined to be making progress in some way. By doing this, I was sort of laying down stepping stones for a possible future. An exercise in self belief, determination - in effect, acting in faith, that it would all come together, somehow.

The demo on this episode was recorded back in 2000. I’d gone into a studio with my electric piano and my voice, and recorded the current group of song (I’d completely forgotten about this recording session until I put my hand in a box of old recordings and pulled out a CD…this is song number 5 row 14 recorded ‘on the trot’ one afternoon).

On the recording, you can hear a younger me, playing and singing in a style that would suit a band arrangement.

I think perhaps I’ll present this one to the band in the new year and see how it goes. If it doesn’t suit us, I’ll might put it on a sort of ‘80s synth rock’ album, which I have brewing.

With this sort of back story as a kind of a backdrop, I hope you enjoy the show, listening as I analyse the lyrics and look at how the music came together for 'Soul Yo-Yo'.

The creative process of songwriting is such a joy. Exploring 'Soul Yo-Yo' has brought more of that to the surface again on this episode.

It’s such good fun to be producing the episodes for this podcast. It’s my online ‘songwriter speaks’ sort of a presentation.

So here’s another song, several interrelated stories and concepts - all delivered with a liberal dose of humour and with some piano accompaniment.

Enjoy (and by the way, if you’re new here, welcome! If you enjoy this episode, there’s another 192 listen to!)

Blog: www.petepascoe.Wordpress.com

Episode #192: When I Was Young  (Song starts at 4:52  )

When I Was Young is song #554, composed in 2010. I remember it was a fun piece to write.

Lyrically, as the title suggests, it’s an older me, looking back at my youth. It’s a reflective lyric. It’s about hanging on to the childhood optimism, the magic that can be found in life.

I strive to hang on to those sorts of feelings. I think because I’m so involved in the arts, it’s kept me awake, alive, optimistic and passionate about life.

The music came together quickly. The words (which came first) dictated the rhythmical aspect of each vocal phrase, to a degree.

I float a vocal melody above the improvised chords and each section leads naturally into the next. It’s like opening a series of presents.

It’s an incredibly enjoyable thing to do, composing. Actually, that doesn’t cut it. It’s a total joy.

I chose to compose quite ‘up’ music to go with these lyrics. I’ve got a tendency to do that reasonably often. I think it comes from my history of being a live performer. The quieter songs have their place, for sure. But there’s nothing quite like having some more up songs up your sleeve when you’re under the pump on the gig.

Speaking of gigs, on this episode, I take you back in time when I was cutting my teeth on my first gigs, playing piano in restaurants. I was learning so much by creating arrangements in the moment. I was playing songs by great song writers. I had books of sheet music: Great Songs of the 70s and the Beatles complete. They got me through, to begin with.

Back when I was growing up on a small Pacific island like New Zealand, the music coming from the USA and England was ‘the business’. That’s what everyone listened to. It took courage and a lot of self belief to have a go at songwriting. Great NZ songwriters like Neil and Tim Finn and Dave Dobbyn showed us we could -  thanks so much to those wonderful artists.

I’m so pleased I did have a go at song writing, and I’m pleased I haven’t stopped.

I have 5 albums nearing completion at the moment and I have another 20 new songs waiting to be written into my song books.

If you’re thinking about getting into songwriting, I say: go for it! And when you start, don’t stop.

This podcast is about rediscovering older songs and finding out where they came from, how they came to be - the composition process. I’m not going to presume to be able to tell you how to write a song, but I’m endeavouring to describe and demonstrate the way I do it.

it’s fun sitting at my piano each week. The moment the mic is ready and I hit record, I go into performance mode. The podcasting is something I’m really enjoying.

The initial songwriting often happens in a burst of activity for me. They seem to come through very quickly for me. So when I feel the urge, I put everything aside for a moment and see what comes through.

Once the songs are written, I open my songbooks, and perform a few, maybe on a rainy day, when the mood strikes me. Often I randomly pick songs that seems to fit together. I get lost in the performance and 2 hours later I’ve come up with a song list for a couple of new albums. And this:

I’d constantly edit and arrange the songs. Just like those days of arranging in the moment as I performed on those restaurants all those years ago. It really was a great training ground in so many ways..

Join me now as I take you though some of my processes again this week - And I talk about whatever else comes to mind along the way. It all a bit of fun. It’s a creative way to share a creative process.

Picture me on an intimate stage. You’re my audience - thank you!  Here we go…

The lyrics for this song (plus paintings and more music) are on my blog www.petepascoe.Wordpress.com. (perhaps open another window and read them as I sing the song).

Episode #191:  Goodnight  (Song starts at 4:20)

Here’s another half an hour of music and gentle chat. This isn’t a left brained sort of dry presentation eg: “ and here we have the verse, you'll note… blah blah”.

No, it’s more relaxed. I’m on stage - in my mind. Well, I’m sitting at my piano, in my a studio in Melbourne, Australia, and you are my audience and I’m here to entertain and inform you.

So I’m an entertainer. I enjoy relating events from my past that help paint the picture of where the song of the episode came to mind.

On that note, this week, I delivered a large seascape painting to the Bayside Art Show in Brighton, Melbourne.

As I sat in the car park and observed the scene, lots of memories came back to me.Back when I wrote 'Goodnight', I was a busy chap, as I am still now. I’d been part of another exhibition here… I ended up winning the People's Choice award, as it turned out, in the morning, I painted a plein air seascape and framed it.

Then I painted a picture of the statue (a feminine figure in a pond just to my right), and I painted the church behind me. All 3 paintings sold in an auction on the day. I did a cartoon session with kids. I also did a gig & I played my songs in the garden. Big day, eh?

'Goodnight', the song, is about that moment where you finally rest your head on the pillow when you’ve had a big day.

It might have been an extremely busy, satisfying day… like the day of that exhibition (I went out like a light when I finally hit the hay that evening), or a completely different sort of day.

The main message that came across as the lyrics came through, was ‘Goodnight', you know you’re loved’.

That very reassuring statement came through loud and clear. And I think it’s true. It’s just the way it is.

The words came first. When I compose this way, I do find it very easy to add the music afterwards.

Words bring pictures to mind, the pictures become a movie and then it becomes clear to me what sort of music is required.

With the limitations of my abilities, such as they are, I perform my version of what I’ve an hear in my mind as I play.

All I need is the start. Then a riff happens, then perhaps a section that builds. In this case, when that happened, I could hear the band arrangement clearly in my head, so I knew then what sort of animal I was dealing with.

A mellow dynamic dreamy ‘end of album’ sort of a song, which it ended up becoming: the final track on the album 'The Man In Blue'. I loved wiring and recording this album. The version on this podcast episode is the recording from the album.

It was my first effort at recording a full band album with acoustic drums and everything, it was fun. It was so much fun I’m still recording today, I’d be in the studio 7 days a week if I could.

That’s partly what this podcast is about, I have 800 songs, so it’s nice to bring them out into the light online, sure some are on albums already (like 'Goodnight'). But other aren’t and may never be.

And still others, because I’ve rediscovered and added bits to on an episode, They are now ready to record.

Anyway, on this episode…you’ll get to hear how the song came together. It’s fun playing the piano, singing and talking through each section as they happened,

If you like this episode there another 190 to listened to when you feel like it. I enjoy listening back these episodes and reviewing my work in the car. I end up just really relaxing and enjoying the 30minutes each time.

I hope you do too.

The lyrics for this song (and the paintings and more music) are on my blog www.petepascoe.Wordpress.com each week too.

The Man In Blue is streaming now on all the usual platforms, including my Bandcamp website www.petepascoe.bandcamp.com

You might like to check out my video for 'At What Cost', track 2 of the album on my YouTube channel Pete Pascoe Art and Music.

For now, it’s Goodnight from me. I hope you enjoy this episode.

Episode #190: Driving Home Blues     (Song starts at 3:00)

I’m really enjoying producing these episodes - it’s a live online gig, really. That’s what it feels like. Thanks so much to those of you who are tuning in regularly. If you’re new here:

I’m looking to shine a light on some aspects of how I compose a song. I’m certainly not to looking take away the mystery - as if I could do that. The mystery is half of what makes song writing intriguing.

In 1991, when I wrote song #190, 'Driving Home Blues', I was working in a piano bar with Paul Dredge, my song writing buddy and great friend. We played 5 nights per week for 3 years at this residency. We learned so much. We are still writing and recording today - our 6th album is nearing completion.

I was single at the time. A brief stormy sort of a relationship had snuck up on me. It made me feel stuff. It made me grow up in a hurry. I had to toughen up, look after myself.

Then it was all over before it started. At the time I decided to go out and buy a sheet music book, of Bob Dylan’s songs, with the purpose of analysing Bobs songs - his Melodies and chords, etc.

Paul, and I were already playing lots of Bob Dylan (and Neil young). We’d worked out there songs by ear, but something made me buy this book and study the notation.

After 30mins browsing the book, I was sort of in the mood. I thought: “I’ll have a go at writing a Bob Dylan sort of song” and I wrote 'These Bills Blues' (featured on an earlier episode)….  and then about 5 nights later I wrote 'Driving Home Blues'.

Writing ‘in the style of’ isn’t something I’d done before or since, to be honest. But I’m glad I gave it a go.

We can learn so much by following in the steps of the masters. So it’s not plagiarism, nothing like that. It  was more noticing how few chords you could work with, how few words you sometimes need. And how simple a melody can be for it to work.

Both Bob Dylan and Neil Young have at times written some very, very clever simple songs that say so much, which ultimately was enhanced by the way they were so brilliantly sung and produced.

As a piano player, you tend at times to use a lot of chords. So this was something that pushed me in a slightly different direction, and it’s something I never forgot.

I’m not afraid to write simple songs.

On that note, I’ve never been afraid when composing. You can’t be afraid of making mistakes. Being aware, now I think that’s super important, being aware…( eg how original is this song I’m writing?)… a sense of honesty and originality. It can take a while to find your own style.

It’s a such a pleasure to be writing songs, still, after all these years.

Because I’ve been so busy doing this podcast and my blog, teaching 24 kids piano each week, painting seascapes and cartoons, - and selling them - it’s all been ‘go’ around here, for years.

I’ve written 800 songs, have 12 albums out & have 5 albums nearing completion - plus I’m working on tuition videos (music and art). These video courses have taken me far longer than I thought it might. Oh well.

It’s important not to be to hard on yourself if you’re on the creative path. It’s like a river sometimes you’re in a holding pool, other times you’re in the rapids and away you go.

When writing the music, it seems like you can somehow ‘hear’ the beginning of the next phrase ‘ahead of time’. It is fascinating, and it’s fun to be in the flow, like this.

I’m grateful I took the time to sit down and write Driving Home Blues. I could've just sat round licking my wounds. Instead, I got stuff off my chest and into my diary. Then I used those feelings and experiences to push me on and turn a murky feeling into a piece of art.

Here we go. I hope you enjoy hearing new music ..and another chat.

Thanks for having a read, I hope you enjoy the listen. If so, there’s another 180 odd episodes waiting for you. They’re not in an particular order, although I’ve enjoyed the way this podcast continues to evolve.

Episode #189: Finding This City.  (Song starts at 3:42  )

Hi there, this episode was a fun one to put together. To start with, Finding This City came into my mind as I went into my studio. I went over to a large box of old cassettes and selected one completely randomly. Amazingly, the tape that said Peter ’94, was teed up and ready to play the uptempo rocker that is: 'Finding This City'.

That sort of thing really appeals to me. It feels very close to the sort of magic feeling that can happen when I pick up a pen to write lyrics, or when I let my hands just play some bits and pieces on the keys of the piano.

That’s what I was doing back in 1994. I’ll put you in the picture: I was new to a city called Hamilton, in New Zealand’s North Island. I had a lot of hair, in my mid 20s. I had an old van that smoked like ‘billy-o’ but it got me around the country from gig to gig.

A few things hadn’t exactly gone to plan musically - and personally - at this stage. But a new chapter beckoned in Hamilton and I was determined to carry on and create some new opportunities.

I met up with an old friend, Mr Grant Hislop, again. He offered me a couple of weeks employment, recording voice overs for radio commercials (which I’d never done). It was a big step up from home recording on 4 tracks. But I took on the challenge. I learned on the fly, recording these radio ads.

And over the course of 5 nights, working from 9pm til dawn, I put together an album of demos. It was initially all done on the keyboard (drums and bass included) except for the guitar.

‘Brendon’, a guitarist, heard me recording one night around midnight. About then I’d been thinking ‘Man, I wish I had a guitarist for these songs’ and lo and behold, Brendon knocked on the door and introduced himself. 6 hours later, as the sun came up, we were putting the finishing touches to the last song.

So, lots of energy - the energy of a driven artist in his mid 20s.

Fast forward now, to 2023. And the energy still flows. I’m starting to figure out I better let those 3am finishes go. Especially when I do 3 in a row.

I’ve worked extremely hard on my song writing over the years. It’s my passion.  It’s easy -  I’ve never sat down and just slogged away for hours. It’s never been that way. For that, I’m extremely grateful. It’s a total joy.

Im Working on 5 albums presently, in various genres. I’ll let you know when they’re up and streaming.

So it does take a lot of hours and work to write songs. I think it’s worth every minute. I recommend it, for sure.

In fact, if you’re thinking about getting busy on a creative path, I say go for it. It’s such a rich life to be living in so many respects.

I get energy by walking in the outdoors, by water. It’s pretty easy to explain, I guess. It literally fills the well, gives me what I need to carry on.

This is song number 323 out of 800. Sandwiched between two mellow songs, Balcony and Post The Picture…gentle songs I’ve already featured on this podcast.

Also, I mention a chap I met in a restaurant one night..which ended up being a song, I Wish (also on this podcast).

Ok, It was fun rediscovering this song. Here we go…let’s find this city.

Enjoy.

Episode #188: Weather Girl    (Song starts at 3:48)

Back in the day, when I wrote this one, there used to be a weather girl on TV after the news. She used to have a stick and point out the highs and the lows on a weather map.

Also back in the day I was getting to know a young lady. It was a little bit of an up and down time. I wasn’t sure quite how a lunch date was going to go, from day to day.

I guess looking back, we just weren’t cut out to be together too easily. I found all the ups and downs and mood changes a handful. So I came up with the idea for a song: a weather girl  - with all the highs and the lows.

In August, 1991, when I wrote this one, I was living in New Zealand. Maybe it’s to do with living on a small pacific island, looking back, the subject weather always came up quickly in conversation: “Nice day today..” “Yes, but it’s going to rain later this week” , etc. Perhaps in the old days, with lots of living being done outdoors and near the ocean, one used to have a closer eye once weather.

As a kid, I remember when I stayed with my Dad, the silence required when the news came on…and then even more so when the weather report came on. He used to be a farmer…

Other New Zealanders have written a song about the weather. Neil Finns Weather With You, Dave Dobbyns Outlook For Tuesday are great examples.

As I chat about where the song came from, I relate an account of me cycling into the winter weather …and so on. Yep, weather had quite an effect on us New Zealanders.

Anyway. Weather Girl turned out to be a nice gentle gentle pop song. It was a pleasure to record a version as part of this podcast episode. I think I’ll take it further and produce a finished version of it.

I wrote the words first, as I often did then. These days words and music often comes through at the same time. I’ve started to become quite a handy secretary - it’s part of the songwriting gig: catching the words and the music as they come through together.

It’s like the phrases are instantly recorded in my mind and I’m able to rewind and play the section in my mind as I play and sing along, writing the words and the melody.

The natural rhythms of the syllables of the words really dictate proceedings when it comes to the phrasing of the melody.

And likewise, natural seems to be the key, keeping in the flow, when I let my fingers wander on the keys.

I keep all the theory in mind and just play. It really is like having all the colours at hand and combining them as I paint a picture.

With the words already written, it’s like the picture is half done. Well, there’s plenty of other elements, bass melody, rhythm, etc. but the main thing is there: the feeling.

A bit of background /behind the scenes news: I have 5 albums coming along nicely, presently. Including the first ‘songs from the podcast ‘ album, #1. It’s all coming together well.

I am juggling a lot of other things on a weekly basis:  24 piano students in 2 days, arts markets, seascape painting, producing prints, my blog, and this podcast. I also have a YouTube channel, but I’ve been a bit quiet there lately. More coming soon.

I hope you enjoy this episodes song, 'Weather Girl'. It’s a warm sounding wee song.

It was fun having a look at how this song came together.

Here we go. I hope you enjoy another song and some relaxed chat.