Music enables communication which harmonises our diverse world. The idea that sound can determine your outlook is something that has interested me since I was a child. I want to study Digital Music and Sound Arts to concentrate all my time into contributing to the unity that it provides. I want to attend practical workshops to broaden my confidence. I want control of my voice to help provoke the right emotion. I want to understand techniques to convey my ideas accurately. I want to be surrounded by creative minds to help me achieve my goals as an artist. I want to learn the history and culture of sound and what it stands for in our time. I want to make art that people perceive through multiple senses, for feeling is living and to initiate something that powerful in another is what matters most to me. The realisation that the hours in my day are extremely valuable has hit me hard this year as I found myself working all day and night to pay rent for my tiny flat in London. I worked for 7 months at the renowned Jazz Café in Camden where I got a chance to see a variety of inspiring musicians perform live every night. I’ve just started up piano lessons. I’ve also just signed up to a 10 week introduction to Logic pro Course at Brighton Met College. I received distinction in Art and Design Ual Level 3 diploma specialising in photography. I’ve always been fascinated with people, facial expressions and body movements. I love portraiture and I’m constantly making music for my images. I’m writing poems all the time, I use them as my lyrics. I’m an advocate for meaningful and passionate words in a song, I try to write as boldly and truthfully as I can. At the moment I’m making more money than I’ve earned before doing session work. I co-write tracks that get sold to Extreme music Library. I’ll either receive 33% or 50% of all royalties through PRS, of which I have been a member for 2 years. Tracks I’ve sang on have soundtracked a handful of well known TV shows and film tr...
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Shortnin’ Bread
A raw winter accompanied Evian’s year. The last of the trees stood naked in the cold as her acceptance to depression did too. Houses were disfigured and frightening, built with anguish. Their little mouths allowed an ugly light inside the walls. Disease lived as a criminal citizen, kidnapping the most foolish. Bombarded with loneliness, Evian inhabited the smallest flat at the end of the street.
An attempt at a hug was all she could lend to her squealing piglet, each night immersed in its illness. Choking in the council estate dirt as if it were looking for the smoke of a cigarette in the deep water, it screeched. Pillows of pink invariably slept underneath its eyes. The appearance of pain had branched out to everywhere that potentially could’ve been pretty. It's sad really. Poor thing.
Evian forced her young, ungenerous and reddening nipple into the little piranha's mouth. She was not capable of mothering something so unusual. A child seemed to her what the moon seems to me: sphinx-like, unreal, daunting. Constantly unavailing at bettering her health, she asked the help of an elderly neighbour who told her she must see the doctor.
It was as if the weather that day was an enemy pretending to be pleasant. Soft kisses of wintry wind picked on Evian's angular cheeks, shaping her jaw and soothing her skin, flirting with her. Uncomfortably cradling the crying baby she nudged through God’s breath into the warm. Unaware of the waiting room she escorted herself to the Dr. Iago's door. She could see the woodworm wriggling around, writing their territory with holes. A powerless knock reiterated through the open space. An acquisitive display of wrinkles appeared, inviting her in.
Dr. Iago seemed immune to the screeching and screaming and began to question Evian's mothering skills. He firmly overpowered the baby’s cry until it was like a foreigner's whisper. His voice was like sweet folk music to her damaged ears: cleansing her bruises and burying the sounds of tears. Chaotically knotted between poor answers, a smile clawed across her grateful face, begging him to continue. His eyes grew a darker shade of grey; his yellowing teeth choked her pupils. Tension swallowed the moments with each intimate tick. He told her he knew exactly what was wrong with her baby: it was starving. The poor child had been cursed with septicaemia. Insistent and sure, the Doctor claimed it was yearning solid foods. One in particular: shortnin' bread, made with the child bearer's breast milk.
Perplexed and perturbed at the Doctor's peculiar and intriguing personality, she began to quiz his expression but the cold ring in her ear rescued her attention quickly. The baby had been silenced; possibly because it understood it’s prayers had been answered and so could weep no more. She longed to see it grin. She unfolded the rag from the baby's head and revealed its early aged skin, stretched over the scalp like a drum: the heart provided the beat. Four frail fingers and one feeble thumb caressed her child's delicate and haggard lineaments. Still silent. Fascinated with the complexity and beauty their relationship could have, she began to plan their future as she did when she fell pregnant. She had had a realisation of true devotion and love. Utterly tranquil and happy, young Evian rocked her child to sleep; dismissing the doctors presence she too, felt her damp eyes close.
When she awoke she was accosted by a thick aroma of pork fat. Sweltering and spluttering, the strings of smell scrambled into her sweating nose. Her freshly cumbersome eyes felt like two tiger sharks caught on the smallest fishing rod, stained with the colour of blood they itched and irritated. Her breathe was sour like the man who put her into this situation. Moist lips split and blistering. She sewed together a conclusion; she had been poisoned, drugged. No one but a sinner would understand her situation. Abhorrence tickled her, causing an icy white expressionless stare which wondered for company. Drooling eyes locked upon the Doctors comfortable and calm, inscrutable countenance.
“Try This”, The doctor said, she reached out a skinny arm and revealed her skinny palm, to which was placed a chunk of red shortnin’ bread.
“Is it not tasty?”
“Yes, yes it is rather”, she replied, the butterflies in her voice flew with the vibrations. This aggravated her, so she quickly vowed to say only a little more. “Where is my child?” She remembered the reasoning for her being there. The doctor’s contrasting facial expression was calm and reassuring. With one scythe like finger, he indicated to the shortnin’ bread.
This is a short gothic story I’ve been working on.
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Audio
Song Title: To Idolise
This is a jazz composition my friend and I wrote and recorded together in Spitfire audio studios for our band project titled ‘Flat 23’.
The lyrics are about idolising and taking inspiration from someone close to you who has passed away. Throughout the light of the day one can seek comfort in a dreary, encompassing city (London) knowing that this love was and will always be returned. It’s about admiration and guidance and I think the lightness of the chords and the warm golden colour the piece projects is honest and interpretable.
This song was written for a session I had directed by Nick Shymansky (Amy Winehouses ex manager). We wrote this in under an hour and recorded it in one take with two mics in the same room.
I chose the cover artwork because it also shows how to make a positive out of something that is boring, to look for the colour, look for the light and change the same-same attitude.
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Video
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This short video was filmed in an underground mine. The sound quality isn’t any good on the camera I had but the acoustics in the cave like space were insane and this gives a slight idea.
When I was travelling for 6 months with my friends we would always find incredible open spaces that had such mind blowing acoustics and in each space songs or sounds would come to mind that would suit the surroundings, have a similar feel to the air and density.
I find this video interesting because the low red light and damp, mould invaded walls that live so deep underground made us think of one of the most famous and appreciated songs, Creep.
(This isn’t a serious video, it’s a mess around that turned out quite beautiful)
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I wrote this piece of music recently whilst I was contemplating on a poem I made up after meeting this radiant woman in a breakfast Cafe.
Apricot -
Pups in a hammock of wrinkles,
From large to large ear.
A sack of a head
holds admirable sense,
To die when most wise
Is like our wasted youth
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Video
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My Head At Night
This is a short film I made to accompany my own music featuring several flashing pictures of a crowd with colours changing, exposure shifting, and bodies moving to the rock music that was playing on the stage. With the increasing tempo of the music, beat shift and beat repeat the audience can relate to the repetitive cycle that is worry when in bed overthinking.
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Audio
This is a demo of a song I’m working on with producer Joseph Efi. I wrote and sang the vocal line and helped him produce, it’s yet to be mastered so it is most definitely a work in progress. I put this photograph I took as the album artwork because the intimacy and mood of the image makes me feel how I feel when I have this demo on full blast out my speakers.
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Link
This is a clip from a Sundance nominated short film. A producer I often work with was asked to soundtrack the scene (This demo was not used in the final cut). Together we produced this eerie piece of music that connects exactly with the visual part of the story we see and understand. Without lyrics and without context the destination of the little girl is unknown, her perceptible innocence evokes emotion that feels as the music sounds.
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Video
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This is a Work In Progress Clip.
It’s an Etta James ‘I’d Rather Be Blind’ cover with a video I made of the sunlight over my best friends face on our rooftop terrace. The harsh and colourful sun that floods the lens is a contrast to the point of topic the lyrics refer to. The Attachment I have to this person is expressed in the rawness of the vocal and the intimacy on the screen. I hope to extend this project but with my own song instead of a cover, to exaggerate the importance and beauty of a best friend relationship.
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Link
Here is a link to my SoundCloud. Music on here is predominantly collaborations. As you can see the genre of music seems to differ between most tracks as I’m still finalising my sound but this gives an example of my voice and the music I enjoy.
https://www.instagram.com/shesblueyep/
Here is also a link to my Instagram that shows some of my photography.
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