Frabjous Day

24 Mar 2011

Singing “Twist And Shout”

I rediscovered this just recently, and I can’t get enough of it. It’s so fantastically raw, pure, simple, and emotive. And it sounds like someone’s just set fire to Lennon’s trousers.

I tried singing this today in the shower. It’s a great example of something that is technically simple, but near-impossible to get right because of the tone and attitude of the original*.

What I found most interesting was the real psychological difficulty I had in just letting go and really yelling properly at full volume. It’s so difficult to lift the veil of inhibitions, even when alone in an empty house.

*For a given meaning of “original”, of course. The Beatles’ “Twist and Shout” was a cover of a cover.

13 Oct 2010

An Opera Singer Reviews Metal

http://www.invisibleoranges.com/2010/07/ask-a-real-musician-5-classic-male-metal-singers/

Excerpt concerning Bruce Dickinson of Iron Maiden:

“I have nothing but admiration for this singer. Listen how he starts off with a soft growl, then moves seamlessly into a well-supported, sustained high full-voice sound that then evolves into an effortless long scream! His diction is easily intelligible, regardless of the range he’s singing in or the effect he’s going for. He achieves an intensely rhythmic delivery of the lyrics without losing legato and musical momentum, something a lot of classical singers struggle with, especially when interpreting the many staccato and accent markings that crowd scores by Bellini, Donizetti, etc.”

29 May 2010

“The Three Passions of Bertrand Russell”.

12 May 2010

Recording the apocalyptic narration, part 01

So a friend was making a short film for an art college project, and asked me to contribute a voice-over-narration-type-thing.

I thought I’d make a blog post on how I went about it.

I have no proper recording equipment; the only microphone I have is a cheap-ass ten-euro-at-Argos mic whose intended use is for shouting at people on webcams. I’m plugging it straight into my computer’s microphone jack.

This does not bode well for sound quality. Those mics are of the minimum acceptable standard for anything, and the mic inputs on computers are notoriously shite - you really need a proper mic preamp if you want a good recording. I suspect this latter point is the source of the noise problems to come.

First comes the question of the script itself. Said friend wrote it, and it was good, but I gave it a few tweaks, because fairly often what seems ok on paper just doesn’t work in speech.

This is an odd phenomenon. On the one hand, having to read something aloud seems to highlight any minor awkwardness in flow or sentence structure - long sentences with big sub-clauses usually just don’t work, for example, because by the time you’ve got to the end of the sentence, the listener can’t remember how it began - but on the other hand, the spoken word is often completely incomprehensible in writing.

I heard somewhere that this first penetrated the public consciousness during the Watergate scandal, interestingly enough. Transcriptions of tape-recorded conversations appeared in newspapers and the like, and people were bloody confused by them - they were just jibberish. How could elected politicians be so inarticulate?

But of course, we’re all like that in speech, because our social interactions are largely understood through body language and inflection in the voice, rather than what we say. I find it very frustrating when people don’t recognise this; my mother, for example, thinks you’re not listening unless you’re staring straight at her.

Anyway, I tweaked a few things, and started trying to get a good sound from the microphone.

Mic placement is everything. The position of the mic, X and Y, is important, because depending on where it is it’ll pick up a different tonal spectrum from your voice. This is something the human ear seems remarkably deaf to. I guess something in the audio processing part of our brain compensates. But microphones can be a lot more senstive to this than you’d think. By placing the mic below you, looking up at the roof of your mouth, you get more high frequencies reflected into it. By placing it higher, you get relatively more bass; this is sort of counter intuitive, as you’d expect the proximity to your chest to increase bass - it doesn’t seem to. Closer to your nose, maybe a more nasal quality.

Also, the distance of the mic from the source is important. For some reason, mics tend to exaggerate distance; if you’re six inches away, you sound like you’re three feet away. If you’re three feet away, you sound like you’re speaking from the wrong end of a cave. To get a good, hard, radio-presenter sort of quality, you need to be really close.

This creates another problem. When you speak right into a microphone, breath noise becomes a real issue. Again, we don’t hear these things in speech, but the microphone sure does. If you’re not careful, every plosive T and P, and every sibilant S and fricative F smacks the mic with twice as much volume as the vowels, and makes for a completely bizarre sound, likely distorting your recording in the process.

Oh, that’s the other problem; you need to control the input volume somehow.

Signal-to-noise ratio is important. The noise, any hiss or hum in the background, is constant, so if you can increase the volume of the main signal - your voice - you can make the noise seem relatively quieter. So the louder the input signal, the better. Until it distorts. The problem here is that you’re sitting on an unfortunate knife-edge; too quiet, and the noise seems too prominent; too loud, and you distort the recording with a big crunch. There are various clever studio tricks to cope with this. I don’t have the ability to use any of them.

I ended up sitting my guitar amp on the table, the mic on top of that (oh I’ve no useful mic stand by the way…), and keeping it a few inches from my mouth. I leaned in and out a little as the voice got softer and louder, respectively.

Next came the actual recording itself.

30 Mar 2010

…In which I continue to break through, vocally.


I tried singing again today. It’s not like this is a monumental occurance worthy of celebration, but I do it rarely enough that it’s still special somehow - especially considering how orthogonal to my personality it is.

When I say that I’m getting better, it’s important to keep it in perspective - I’m still nowhere near good enough to sing even a simple song in a musical way. But given that I’m starting from zero, I’m improving. A lot.

When I first started singing, among all the various things dreadfully wrong with my voice, the deepest frustration for me was the tone. Pitch accuracy is simple by comparison: it might not be easy, but at least there’s a definitive, objective reference in telling how you’re doing - you are in tune or you’re not, it’s not a matter of opinion.

But tone quality is much more intangible, and what makes it even more difficult is not knowing… how can I put this… not knowing what you’re supposed to sound like. Singing is an extension of speech, but it’s distinct enough that it’s almost like putting on an accent. You can’t know anything about your singing voice without actually singing, but it’s hard to sing without having any idea what you’re aiming for…

And to begin with, I sounded strangled and unmusical. Well, recently I’ve been experimenting more, and today I more or less confirmed that actually, I can sing with a bloody good, rich, hard, resonant tone if I concentrate on it. I’ve figured it out. This is a remarkable step-up, because I’ve moved forward to where the single major thing holding me back has now been supplanted by something else. I now need to work on pitch accuracy and breath control, and these are things that, although they might be difficult and take a lot of work, are at least easier to quantify. I’m no longer fumbling in the dark as much.

I feel hugely inspired by this: the main obstacle has been cleared, and the road ahead looks open. I’ve also started finding that I fucking enjoy it.

27 Mar 2010

Vocal…stuff

My sleep pattern has been relatively normal these last few days - I’m getting up in the morning and going to bed at night, shock-horror - but I’ve been getting up very early, so as I write this in the early evening I’m already groggy with tiredness. Doesn’t bode well for a coherent post.

Anyway, I had a bit of a vocal breakthrough today. I now understand something I’d missed previously.

There are various concepts involved in voice production - chest voice, head voice, falsetto, resonance and so on, and something called “vocal fry”, which is a strange term for that sort of croaky sound you can produce in your throat. You know, that really dry croak-thing, without any actual voice behind it. Almost a velcro sound.

Previously, I’d been under the impression that vocal fry was a weird technique that people used more or less to pretend they could sing lower than they could - there’s no volume or projection in the croak, so it’s hardly a real form of speech. It turns out, though, that it’s far more useful than that.

I’ve posted before about getting a deeper sound from my voice, and concentrated on some sort of chest resonance. I realise now that that’s not all that matters; there’s something else more important. By performing the vocal fry and blending in a bit of the chest voice, you get this very deep, rich and interesting sound - like a zip in a cello. It’s reminiscent of all the cool male speaking voices you can think of.

I think I know what’s happening now.

The technique called falsetto is usually used to mean a high register, but I’ve heard a better explanation for it: It’s more a tone than a register, and has to do with keeping the vocal cords loose, so that more air blows through them. You get a soft, airy sort of sound this way. And this tone can be produced at any pitch.

I think I’ve for some reason learned to speak with a sort of falsetto even at low pitches. It occurs to me now that it might be through not speaking enough… same reason we get unfit without exercise.

By tightening the vocal cords to get more of the fry, I automatically speak with most of the depth and hardness I’ve been looking for. It’s still a bit tricky - again, it feels like some muscles are atrophied - but it’s there. What it means is that the depth and resonance in my voice is surrounded by that gritty velcro texture instead of a breathy, airy one. It’s much easier to speak louder and more articulately, too.

I’m fairly sure this post is three times longer than it needs to be.

23 Mar 2010

Been awhile since I posted one of these. I was experimenting with my voice again, got pissed off at sounding crap, and went all You-Shall-Not-Pass on it. Didn’t work, of course, and I must apologise most profusely to any English people for the dodgy accent, but it… well, it’s a bit of fun.

14 Jan 2010

Vocal progress

Some progress with the ol’ vocal apparatus.

I remember a couple of years ago I experienced a strange thing: I woke up with my voice deeper than normal. Considerably so. Now, it hardly seemed likely that it had broken again, so what was going on?

Over the next few hours my voice lost the depth went back to normal. I reasoned that maybe I was ordinarily tensing something that had spontaneously relaxed one morning. In any case, it sounded cool so I thought I should try to cultivate it.

Since then it’s come and gone every so often, but I think I’m finally getting a hold of it. I realised the other day that when I go to try singing something I have a habit of trying to force the sound from my throat. It feels sort of like you’re “moving” the sound backwards into the back of your mouth. I remember reading a suggestion to try the exact opposite.

By imagining moving the sound forward, so it feels almost like there’s a pressure behind your front teeth, it seems like the whole vocal apparatus opens up and starts working properly. That seems to be the key to the depth in my voice - rather than trying to “move” the sound deeper into my chest, if I do the exact reverse and try to project the sound out of my mouth it all seems to fall into place.

I tried singing a few notes today. Sounded deep and rich and interesting. An improvement.

4 Dec 2009

Yesterday and octave difficulties…

Tried singing “Yesterday” recently. Complained that my voice didn’t sound like McCartney’s.

Realised today I was singing it an octave too low.

That’s why it sounded different.

Still further, I realised that I had already realised that ages ago, and forgotten it…

What’s the word… “D’oh”.

3 Dec 2009

Deep Purple, “No No No”, 1971, rehearsal. Take two.

Ian Gillan is one of the most extraordinary rock singers ever.

His singing on the albums is even better.