Song and a Chat

Episode #227: The Prettiest Picture  (Song starts at 5:14) I wrote this song for my mother (Mum), back in 1987 {!). I remember like it was yesterday. It was Mother’s Day, in the morning and I’d remembered. I like to give some sort of an original gift, so I thought I’ll paint mum a picture. Yes, I thought I would come up with something suitable in a couple of hours, rock around to Mum’s house in the afternoon and deliver it. Unfortunately the painting just didn’t come together. It wasn’t up to scratch at all. So, plan b: I sat down, pen in hand and wrote some lyrics. Here’s a song for mum Just written to say how much you mean to me. So it sounds like a letter, initially. What came out eventually was: this song was the prettiest picture I could paint, which became the ‘punchline’ of the lyrics. Then I sat at the piano, wrote the music, recorded a demo and delivered the tape a couple of hours later. This was song #23. Looking back, 1987 was a formative year for me, as a composer. I found I could really do it. And as an artist, too, I also realised I could sing well enough to be more confident about my vocals. Recording myself was a good idea.. It’s also a great idea to write lyrics down. Put them together, in some sort of tangible form. I recommend an A4 book. Lyrics, chords and hints of melody (in lower case above each syllable), plus some rhythmical notes, too. I find I just need to start all of these old songs, and the whole arrangements come back to me in a flash. In fact, when I wrote it, I imagined straight away it would go equally well on the guitar. As usual, this episode became a bit of an observation on life. My mum passed away last year, so I guess I was quite reflective as I winged proceedings (as I do, on this podcast - there are no notes to follow, no script). One of the things that came to light is: sometimes ‘creatives’ are viewed as almost a different species. Yes, we have specialised skills that can be honed, but I think to be human is to create. Everyone creates. We have choice as to how to feel, how we react (act). I figure we may as well do good things in this life. That’s why I’ve put a mountain of art and music, writing and spoken word online, these last 200 odd weeks. I’ve archived my work and I hope it’s entertaining and helping people. Feedback, to date, would indicate this has the case, which is great. Speaking of archiving, I think I better do some more backing up. The digital domain isn’t exactly stable at times. My music computer might have done it’s last bit of recording with this episode. Some very bizarre noises were happening. The upshot is: this recording is in mono. I got there, just. Finishing it took some thinking outside the square. So I'm going to take a break for a few weeks. I’ll be back rejuvenated, with a recording system that’s operating in the NY. See you then. In the mean time, if you’d like to hear more like this, There’s another 226 episodes you can listen to retrospectively. Producing this podcast has been so rewarding, often surprising, in so many ways. Thanks for reading this and I hope you enjoy hearing how the words and music came together for   'The Prettiest Picture I could Paint', ( this one’s for you, Margaret, delivery #2.). Enjoy,

Episode #226: The Smallest Of Dreams   (Song starts at 3:47) I found a quite extensive amount of audio of me composing this one. So I’ve included some of it on this episode. As I listened back to the process of the smallest of dreams coming together, I found it fascinating. Often songs come together quickly for me. This one was different. Each time I picked the song up, and gently sung it through, it seemed a new bit revealed itself each time. Even if what I was playing didn’t seem to be heading in the right direction, something would kick in and give me just enough to keep going. The smallest of dreams started out life as a snippet of a waltz piece on the piano, played in a completely different key. This was the moment where I recorded what I’d come up with. It was little more than just a couple of bars of not much, but it had a certain feeling about it. Over the years, I’ve learned to recognise potential in a piece of music. From there it was like kneading a piece of clay, keeping a sense of humour and being true to the feeling that came through when I recorded the initial piece of piano playing. ‘As we play see the day make the way for the smallest of dreams’. It seems the creative process of producing art and music and writing is a parallel to life itself. Play is a key element to composing. Just being free to see where the melody or chords will take you. It’s the same, as we go through our weeks: just remembering to have fun and keep moving. If we go along steadily and not rush, it seems little extra bits seem to come to us just at the right time. And that’s how it is with song writing, it’s about being on the breathe, being aware, asking questions , keeping moving and rolling with the new phrases - both musical and lyrical  - and you see where it takes you. Ok here we go. This is a very gentle ballad. With a nice 3 4 lilt. It’s the last song on the new album River Walking by myself and Paul Dredge, (streaming now). You can hear the actual album track on this episode. The lyrics are on my blog www.petepascoe.wordpress.com , plus links to more of my music and art. I hope you enjoy this episode as much as I enjoyed producing it,

Episode #225: One More Cup  (Song starts at 4:27) As usual, I thoroughly enjoyed producing this episode. Earlier this evening, I had a feeling I had some recordings of myself composing One More Cup - somewhere on one of my hard drives… By some sort of miracle, I managed to locate the snippets of audio. I put them all together on a timeline and as I recorded this episode, I listened to each new section in turn, much as the listener would do, discovering what I got up to. I found it at times surprising, fascinating and humorous. These 3 things I would say are a 3 of the essential components required to compose. The sense of mystery, the intense focus, due to the passion and a sense of humour to keep the wheels on and rolling when you hit a bung note or take a wrong musical turn. I wrote the lyrics sitting in a cafe. It’s the way I start my Mondays and Tuesdays: long black in a mug, considering my days ahead. Across the road, I see the school where I’m employed as a contractor, teaching 24 piano lessons in 2 days - each week. You can appreciate my need to take a moment to mentally prepare. Some days I’ll sit and type a blog post. Or perhaps a letter to Paul Dredge, my co-songwriter in New Zealand. or, as on this particular day, I may pick up a pen and starting writing lyrics, sometimes describing the scene around me. These lyrics are  an account of the songwriter (publicly) going off into dreamland and returning. The morning rush is in full swing but not for me -  I sit here quiet in the shade.. Bliss. What is also bliss is this: listening back to the finished version of the song, One More Cup is track number 10 on the album River Walking, written and recorded with my great friend and co songwriter, Paul Dredge , from New Zealand (where I’m originally from). The arrangement of the musical instruments on the finished recording start to tell a story of their own really, so I’ve included some of the production work (isolated parts) on this episode . So join me for a cuppa maybe, as you listen to this episode. I had one in hand as I was speaking, in between playing the piano to demonstrate the odd section. It’s such a pleasure to be recording these episodes, particularly working through the songs on our most recent album. I’m glad I had the foresight to record the songwriting process for One More Cup. I hope you enjoy hearing about the process…and listening to the finished version. More about One More Cup / the album and lyrics here: www.petepascoe.wordpress.com Here we go. Join me for one more cup.

Episode #224: Old Horse Grey  (Song starts at 3:45 ) There’s a state of mind you get into when you’re doing something creative like writing a song lyric, composing the accompanying music & arranging the instruments during the recording process. You’re right in the moment. Honouring what you’ve already created, you’re asking constant questions to guide you to what’s next. The questions come from feeling. And the answers just seem to appear and fall into place like they were meant to be. Welcome to the art of songwriting. It’s a reflection of life itself, by it’s very nature: we ask questions as we go through our lives. Taking responsibility for our actions thus far, we ask “What’s next?” And the answer?  what will be. The oldest answer has always been:  to just be in the now. And let what will be, be. In the country I find it easy to find that pace - just walking. Like an old horse. No rush. The old horse grey lyrics were inspired by the horse that, until recently, lived in the paddock across the road from our house. The school children called out to him, fed him apples as they walked to school. It really struck a chord with me: when I was a primary school kid, there were 2 horses in the paddock opposite our house. One was brown, and one was grey. I chose to call the song Old Horse Grey, as it was about my childhood as well. Also it sounded more poetic than ‘old brown horse’ (the horse across the road here in 2024 in Australia was brown). Anyway, the time came when he passed away. We all miss him. There’s a few lines about the passing of time in the song - and this:  the noise of trucks, the spread of the city. Old horse grey, he shakes his head as if he knows… 'Old Horse Grey' is song #9 on the new album 'River Walking'. I wrote the lyrics (or most of them) and sent off to Paul Dredge, my co songwriting buddy, knowing that Paul would come up with just the right country feel for the song, I didn’t tell him this. I just knew. Then Paul stopped and left the chorus (or is it the bridge?) for me. I ended up steering it though to the end, adding more lyrics. You can hear this process on this episode. I have included the audio of Paul’s initial sketched start, and my answers. You’ll also, of course, hear the finished album track. I’ve written about the song in this week’s blog post. www.petepascoe.wordpress.com  -  and I’ve included the lyrics as usual. The end result is a song which Paul and I are really happy with. It’s a mellow listen. Also in this episode, I have included a wee funny story about a bit of horse riding I did as a child, in NZ. That’s the great thing about song writing, so many layers are in there, it’s like looking through a photo album, listening back to a song I’ve written the lyrics for. It was a real pleasure to write this one with Paul. I hope you enjoy listening to how Old Horse Grey came to be. Here we go…

Episode #223: Changing Times (Song starts at 4:18 ) The featured song on this episode is song #7 on the album 'River Walking', by Paul Dredge and myself. At the time of recording this episode, the album has not long been out and I’m working my way through the songs. I’ve actually skipped one in the sequence the song 'Gone Too Soon' is song #6 on the album. I’ve already recorded an episode featuring this song (do a search on the platform you listen to your podcasts to and you’ll find it - or follow the link below). I’m an album man, generally, when I listen to music. I like to really immerse myself into the vibe of an album. So I think a lot about how I decide on the song order. In this case, it made sense to me to place 'Changing Times' after 'Gone To Soon', which has a gentle groove. The blues with a swing beat of changing times (which Paul came up with) kicks in nicely and the album cruises on in yet another music style. Good fun. Changing Times started one morning at the cafe where I can often be found, first thing in the morning, opposite the school where I teach piano on Mondays and Tuesdays. I take a breath, have a coffee and consider how things are going. Most often I’ll write a blog post. And sometimes I’ll write lyrics. On this particular day, I sat ‘outside by the roadside…a little uncomfortably close. Summer Breeze was (Is) on the radio inside, out here I sniff(ed) the air as it blows’… These were the words I started off with. Paul received my lyrics while on holiday (in fact, I think it was the same holiday that Paul came up with the start of River Walking). You can hear the audio on this episode which I received back from Paul. He’d written the verse and chorus with a bluesy cool groove. I then wrote the bridge. (which you can also listen to - so you get to hear the to and fro of our international writing style). Blues tends to write itself, once you’ve made the decision to go down that path. It’s fun. Paul said “The lyrics just said blues to him”. And I agree. It was fun to add the bridge, and that was that. Arranging the song was next. I’ve shown how we did this by including some isolated tracks of the instruments. We both lobe this process. The lyrics are about how suddenly you realise you’ve reached a crossroads - and it’s time to make some decisions and make some changes. This was a a couple of years ago, when I wrote the lyrics. I realised I’d been doing way too much, each week, for way too long. Passionate as I was (still am) about the arts, I needed to reel in my work load a bit, Fast forward a couple of years …and I’ve sort of slowed and down,,,and sort of not. I’ve chosen to go down a few different artistic paths over the years. I’m enjoying string my art and music - and the processes. You can read about it all on my blog  www.petepascoe.wordpress.com  where you can find the link to the 'Gone Too Soon' episode -  and read the lyrics of the song featured on each podcast episode…) Ok, Changing Times, here we go - rollin’ !