I’ve started a “Music” journal. Each page has the name of a musical artist on top, and then the songs of theirs that I like singing are listed below. The journal is indexed by artist:
My plan is to work my way through the journal and try singing all of the songs in public, whether at karaoke or with a band.
So…actually, my big, overarching plan is to start a cover band, but I haven’t gotten that together yet. When and where will we practice? Who will be in my band? How will I coordinate band life with mom life? This all seems overwhelming at the moment, so the band is still existing mostly within the realm of fantasy.
Starting the song list journal is my way of cataloguing my singing repertoire and beginning to dream of a band.
I recently took my journal to the Baby Ketten Karaoke club here in Portland and tried a song from it. I chose XTC’s “Generals and Majors,” a song from 1980 that popped into my head recently. It is a song about military hunger, war, ego, and glory, and ultimately a satire about the cogs in a war machine.
As a former drum major, the one who leads the marching band, I feel a special connection to this song. I have the hungry spirit of a leader, a love of pomp and glory, and a stirring desire to rally with others for a worthy cause. I detest war and real violence, but as a martial artist, I adore fighting and the self-realization available along the warrior’s journey.
A line from the song goes: “Generals and Majors always seem so unhappy ‘less they got a war.”
I seem so unhappy too, when I lose sight of a cause to fight for, or simply an inspiring goal to work towards. As a mom, the cause I’m most often fighting for is getting my kids to school on time. Or having enough clean laundry to dress my family. These goals are necessary, but not so inspiring. And definitely not glorious.
In contrast, my karaoke performance of “Generals and Majors” was glory-filled. I smashed and bounced my way through the song, leaping through the vocal gymnastics of quick-change intervals, and marching around the stage on the breaks. The crowd cheered, and after my performance, the club owner told me I “killed it.”
Performing was SO much more satisfying than doing laundry.
I logged my performance in my “Music” journal. The entry, along with a few others, appears below. More to come in the future. 🙂
Michelle Folk Johnson 