Finding my way back to music

So, a long, long, long, long time ago I used to be a singer. I haven’t really considered myself one in a long time, because other than my friends’ weddings, I haven’t really had the occasion to perform in front of an audience in quite a while.

But back in college, I lived for it - I was the singer in a wedding band, I volunteered to sing back-up for various local Detroit acts, I wrote and recorded songs on my own in hopes of maybe making a career out of it (I was no Elton John, but I was proficient enough on keyboards to make it work).

In fact, I started writing songs in junior high school, and had several dozen tunes under my belt by the time I graduated college. I hooked up with a group of other artists who were also trying to get the attention of record companies. I made a pact with myself - if I got a record deal by the time I got my bachelor’s degree, I’d go with it and see where it took me. If not - off to law school.

Well, I got my law degree and the rest is (non-musical) history.

I always thought I’d keep writing and playing and singing for myself. Alas, it didn’t happen. But I missed it.
My boyfriend even bought me a keyboard a few years ago as a Christmas gift. I loved it and vowed to get back into it. Alas, that didn’t happen either.

So last night I was feeling a bit bluesy, and I walked by the keyboard and wondered if I could even pick out a song by ear the way I used to (I never really learned to read or write music properly - the little I was taught in piano lessons when I was 8 I quickly forgot. But at one point I could teach myself to play popular songs and, of course, the ones I wrote).

So I tried. Boy, was I rusty! It took me a little while, but in about a half-hour’s time, I was playing and singing a very, very rudimentary version of Bob Dylan’s “Make You Feel My Love” in the style of Adele (if you’ve never heard her, check her out here - so lovely. I wish I sounded like that.)

Though my little private solo performance is not anything I can share in public without many, many weeks - maybe even months - of practice, it felt really nice. It was like reconnecting with a part of myself that lay dormant for more than a decade. It made me really happy and at the same time really sad - my voice is nothing like it used to be when I belted out karaoke tunes in dive bars in Greektown in Detroit or at T’s Pub in Boston, and it probably won’t ever be that strong again. I got a little mad at myself for ignoring something that was so fundamentally a part of me for so long. It was really bittersweet.

But, I also promised not to let another decade pass without playing and singing - and maybe even writing again, if I get up the courage - if only for myself. After all, my dog likes it when I sing to him. The two of us are really the only audience I need.
(Photo by Jan Mehlich)