Yesterday, I met up with my old mate Rich Shillitoe for the first time in month to work on the much-anticipated Ross Kemp: The Musical. And by “much-anticipated”, I mean by me.
Since our last session in October, I have listened to our opening number countless times. And I really fancied having a crack at recording my own version after what I considered to be several successful attempts while driving.
Aside from in my car, I haven’t done a massive amount of singing in public before. I did attend choir practice at church on one occasion when I was about eight. I was actually thinking up ways I could get away with miming and my main motive was money. But I got scared when one of the elderly ladies tried to measure me up for a cassock and never returned.
At primary school, I accidentally sang a brief solo over the instrumental part in a song during a summer concert and made sure to finish the chorus. Then about 13 years later in the first year of uni, I grabbed the microphone and sang the chorus of We Are the Champions during karaoke in our campus bar when I felt the group I was up there with weren’t putting in enough effort. And of course, after a few pints in 2010, I sang Bohemian Rhapsody with a live backing band at a rockaoke party and people genuinely enjoyed it.
Also at uni, I was the lead singer in a hypothetical band with two mates. We never wrote any songs, or even played together. But the band existed in theory.
My teenage years were when I wanted to be the frontman of a band. This was despite not being able to really play any instruments to any particular level of skill. Then again, this has hardly stopped many well-known frontmen from making their fortunes. I actually thought about forming a band with Rich when I was 17 or 18. We would have been called Contrasting Souls. He’d be dressed in black and I’d be dressed in white. I never actually told him of these plans and think it’s probably for the best.
Yesterday, it turns out that Rich wasn’t impressed with my vocal efforts. What soon became apparent is how much work I’m going to have to do on my vocals if there’s any chance of me landing the leading role in my own musical. As ridiculous sentences that I’ve written over the years on here go, that one is well up there.
At present, my breathing technique is non-existent. If I were to sing about eight songs a day for three and a half weeks at Edinburgh Fringe, there would be a good chance I’d lose my voice within a matter of days. Then there’s my history of mild throat issues that are caused by sinus problems. Perhaps I wasn’t cut out to be a rock star after all.
But then after yesterday, I thought I could direct and produce the musical and have a smaller role. It would also allow me to oversee the production to make sure everything’s running properly, which I couldn’t do it I was on stage for most of it. There’s also less chance of me burning out within the first week. Another plus side is that I will no longer have to shave my head. And maybe, just maybe, it would also give me enough time to also do a certain quiz-based show.