The Queetles. Or ‘Bean’ if you’d prefer. Either way it’s the stuff of nightmares, eh?
Why do I do what I do, and how in the heck did I even get here?
I had two whirlwind romances in my youth. It began with Queen and shifted to the Beatles, and I’ve been spellbound by those two pillars of British pop rock ever since.
I think the reason I pursued music was that nearly all of my childhood heroes, regardless of their attitude, outlook or style, were musicians.
It started with plinking and bashing away at the old walnut coloured upright piano at my mum and dad’s house as a toddler. I eventually progressed to formal lessons, but soon found it far more rewarding to make my own songs up, adapt the music I was supposed to be learning rote and to copy the things I heard on the radio. Much more fun and immediate than pursuing the ability to sight read.
Two events conspired to spark my lifelong love of Queen.
In February of 1992 a formative obsession with Waynes World began, endlessly quoting it to myself and with my school mates. And of course the absolutely iconic BoRhap in-car singalong/headbang was a definite highlight for me. I thought it was such a cool song - and the re-release eventually made it back to number 2 in the UK charts. I don’t think I really considered the band behind the soundtrack at that point, but it must have planted a seed.
On 20 April 1992, I was attending my weekly piano lesson with Fiona. Her husband was downstairs engrossed in a televised concert, which Fiona explained was a tribute to a phenomenal performer and songwriter called Freddie Mercury. “Have you ever heard of him, or Queen?” she asked - I hadn’t. So rather than cover the scales and practise pieces we were supposed to that week, she took me through a Queen songbook highlighting some of their finest work and performing some for me. I was absolutely hooked - I spent the next few years amassing a collection of CDs and books and absorbed everything I could about my new heroes, Freddie, Brian, Roger and John. The first album of theirs I owned was a cassette of the spellbinding Greatest Hits, which I bought in a sale at Woolworths for a bargain price (due to the fact it was missing its sleeve).
Looking back, this was my true musical education - how I learned to layer harmonies, how to flavour songs to keep them interesting and unusual but always coming back to accessibility and catchiness. I would irritate my sister by refusing to sing the main melodies of whichever song was on the radio - I would always be, rather smugly, providing a second or third harmony to proceedings. What an annoying twerp.
A year or so of Violin lessons led me to conclude that the guitar must be similar to play, as it had strings as well. Not quite, Gill. And so a 3/4 sized classical nylon strung guitar was purchased for me to learn on from John Douglas music in Dumfries. Eventually I must have persuaded Mum and Dad that an electric guitar was essential to my continued progress. And what guitar could be more fitting than an identical model to the one Wayne lusts after in his film - “It will be mine, oh yes - it will be mine”. So for Christmas one year, a white Japanese Squier Stratocaster turned up via mail order - a recommendation from my guitar teacher of the time, Derek.
Lessons with Derek were mostly about playing toplines or melodies from well known songs, as well as learning chord shapes. Well, supposedly well known songs; he made a joke about the quality of the photocopying of one piece of sheet music I was learning - Yesterday - saying it was one of Paul McCartney and John Lemon’s finest. The joke whooshed over my head - I’d never heard these names before. But this started me off down the path of my second musical obsession, those bloody wonderful Beatles.
I similarly strove to possess everything possible I could get from the band - every CD album (including the rather pricey double White Album set) and a myriad of books and documentaries. I realised that I had heard them already on my parent’s copies of the Blue Album - Yellow Submarine was a favourite. I had vague memories of being completely freaked out by Lucy In the Sky with Diamonds as a really young child - the imagery must have twisted my tiny mind. But the first album I listened to properly, and I think the first CD I was bought, was their much lauded Sgt Pepper. What an education! My folks had an original vinyl, so I loved the infinitely looping outdo collage - “Meeur! I can have a goose we ganny, pam pam pa”
I’d cite both Queen and the Beatles as far and away the biggest influence on my musical output, having also fallen in love with Led Zeppelin, Beck, Elliott Smith, Ryan Adams. This might seem like a redundant statement, as they have both been so influential on the bands that have followed them that it’s impossible not to be. But they set standards that I still strive to rise up to. Not a bad high watermark to reach for, I’m sure you’ll agree…
So that might explain the approach I take with my Isolation Tapes, how my mind fits all the pieces together - usually before I’ve even started to sketch a demo. I think listening to their tapestries of sound has enabled me to ‘aurally visualise’ music as a complete soundscape in my head. It seems like I’m constantly tuned in to my own musical musings - and a chaotic and rather stuffed notes app and Music Memos folder will attest to that. The only thing usually lacking is the dedicated focus to really complete things, but I’ve got a helluva demos bag to root around in should it take your fancy.
So the next step is external accountability - I need to feel the pressure from the people who might want to hear these things to let me know and I’ll deliver! The project currently in the works is the first Sensitive Husbands Club album, ‘Love and Be Loved’ - a mixture of acoustic, organic sounds and what I’d consider my most genuine lyrics (mostly themed around love).
Keep an eye on the instagram for updates on my progress, and keep sending your requests through - they’re always gladly received!
Gill