Tag Archives: Roderick Shoolbraid

The importance of being aural

I’ve been extremely nostalgic lately, iPod blasting out Wire, X, Pylon, Pointed Sticks, Young Canadians, the Germs, Gun Club, PiL, Patti Smith and Joy Division, sharing their tunes with friends, both old school punks and young champions of the genre. I revel in it as much as I ever did and dammit, it’s timeless.

Life, including recording and performing music, was so much simpler then, hence the nostalgia, even melancholy. Just do it was precisely how we did it. These days it seems there is so much more crap to surmount! Why does it have to be so bloody hard to get together to jam, write, rehearse, record, perform? I miss singing, though singing lyrics—singing the way I used to with my previous bands—is not quite what I do with Roderick Shoolbraid and our AURAL Heather duo. My throat slings (spoken) word along with, and in and out of, melody. I described AURAL Heather in our press release as a sublime fusion of music and poetry and dubbed our material spoken word song. Though our logistics are daunting and AURAL Heather is currently simmering on a back burner—as we work to complete our How To Remain video—our sound, once described as “Lynchian,” keeps right on cooking.

Recently, I found myself getting defensive when a friend complained that Roderick’s guitar drowns out my vocals. I sighed. It’s difficult to explain our aural challenges, that what we’re attempting to pull off is a delicate balancing act. Maybe I sighed so loudly because Continue reading

True mercy & “First Comes Mary”

Cozumel, Mexico, 2006

Trying day; snow, snow, snow, and more snow! Up to our knees, still. sigh I haven’t seen so much snow since I was a kid living in Manitoba. I would walk to school in snowbanks two feet taller than myself. Last night I watched the wind hurling huge white flakes from the blackness onto my windows. My bitch Brinda is neck deep in it right now and eating it, shoving her snout in and chewing on it like a bone.

I’ve been stood up for an appointment with my medical herbalist. I received an excruciatingly sentimental Christmas card from my estranged sister. I can sense her reaching out, and my resistance, which I am working to overcome. She is lonely, I suspect. Our younger sister died in August, one of her few close friends. My anger has ebbed. She is all that remains of my immediate family and indeed, can drive me nuts but I do love her and miss her. So, I sent her a card and invited her to visit. If it happens or not, we shall see, but I know that I have tried, extended the olive branch. I decided as well, that our relationship doesn’t have to be perfect, or even healthy. I am going to have to be realistic, not expect so much, of her, of us. Considering all that we went through, I need to cut her a wide berth. She might need to realize that about me as well. I think we’re talking mercy here, which harkens the Mose Allison song/lyric, “Everybody’s cryin’ mercy but they don’t know the meaning of the word.” Used to cover it with my band the Zellots, I suppose because it rang true. Still does, so, we shall see. Continue reading