Since returning to work after my extended absence I've struggled to balance writing with the demands of family and work life. Consequently my passion for music has taken a back seat - until now. The other Sunday our band had its first gig for a while which meant practising (what?... you didn't know about our band... oh, you do know... and yes, I know it's only the music group in church, but it's still rock and roll to me, OK?). Picking up my guitar I couldn't quite believe I'd left it so long; just the act of making music felt so good, it was almost therapy as all other cares drifted away with the fading of each chord and note (gosh, I must be good!).
But music is far more than that; and yesterday I picked up my other instrument, the source of endless hours of fun that can't fail to cheer up the dourest of countenances. I don't know what it is about the ukulele that gives it the power to transform fantastic classics into witty ditties at the strum of a four stringed chord. I love choosing the most unlikely song, as I sit playing with myself alone in the bedroom, and making into a cheesy creation fit to compete with Agadoo or the Birdy Song. Yesterday I took the rock standard Down Down, by Status Quo, added a swing rhythm and converted into something fit only for elevators; it was great. I'm currently working on the chords for Nessun Dorma - I bet Pavarotti has ditched his ethereal harp in favour of a ukulele and is having a whale/wail (you choose) of a time up there, taking the mick out of Puccini and Verdi.
Incidentally, while we are on the subject of ukuleles, my insertion of George Formby's Leaning on a Lampost into a CD selection of motivational music for an awards ceremony disappointingly passed without incident - not even a ticking off. I wish I'd added something off my Best of Billy Bragg CD now; hey ho perhaps next time.
Oh, and I know that George Formby played a banjulele, not a ukulele just to save you the trouble of telling me!
