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About Me Music has been with me since childhood, and the songs I write grow with me and tell of my journey through the ups and downs of life - first and foremost they're my musical diary. Recently though, I've started to look outward and write about things I see in the world around me. I am not a musician in the usual sense; I've never been on tour and I don't work as a musician. (The first gig I ever did was in Glasgow, in a music bar. Afterwards some random guy punched me in the face, and I decided that my songs were too precious to play to people who didn't want to listen!) Instead I work with people helping them sort themselves out; sometimes I sing to them but usually we just talk. A few of my songs are about the people I've worked with and hold their story rather than mine. I'm more of a storyteller than a musician and music is something I have, rather than something I do. For me music is about connection and making sense of life. A few years ago, when I moved to Australia, I stopped listening to recorded music altogether. My generation wallpapers our world with music without even thinking about why we do this. When I stopped automatically listening to music, I realised just how influential and invasive music can be. Especially given the fact that I listen and play such sad music, I'm careful to watch that I don't wallow in or make myself numb to my own emotions: Enough already, change the record! Now I listen to music occasionally, but I play quite often. Even when I'm not writing, which is quite often, my passion for music is still very much alive. These days music is also part of my spiritual practice & daily meditation. I sometimes write psalms and recently I even wrote a chant for some circle dancers I met. If you'd told the 15 year-old me that this is what I'd someday be doing with my music, I would never have believed you. I believe that music is not just a form of art and self-expression – it's a vital force that has a real effect on the world. When I finally noticed this, it struck me that many of the things I sing about go on to happen. Sometimes with surprising consequences: a year after writing a song, I'll sing at a gig and realise – so that's what that lyric meant! An example of this that always makes me smile is the prayer of St Francis song that I wrote: I had no idea I was writing it for myself and that every sentence would (within weeks) become my own pain and struggle. I reckon the creative source within us knows much more than we do. Now in my songwriting I give thought to what the song is actually describing and especially to the ending – I take care in the songs I craft, because they continue to shape me. When life is crap, I definitely write more songs: it's kind of like emotional composting and breaking down of all the shit into fertile matter that feeds the soul. Well it feeds my soul anyway! Time and time again I wonder how other people who aren't artists make sense of life without this! As my life has grown, I probably write songs less, because my life has so many other inspiring activities in it now. Perhaps I took the opposite route to the old blues players who sold their soul to the devil? Sometimes I wonder if I've traded some really good songs for an easier, more joyful life? There is something that drives and pushes me to share my music and reach others. I've been trying to work out what motivates me to share my music with audiences and to choose such a public hobby. If I'd thought about it I would not have chosen to be a performer, but back in the days when it was painfully difficult it never occurred to me not to do it. I love it when an audience listens, drinking in the meaning and connecting with me as the singer. I started gigging in 1999 with Michelle le Masurier in our Glasgow based band 'Icarus'. Michelle is a fantastic friend, great harmonist (which I'm not) and she has the most beautiful voice. Sharing music with Michelle was a real gift, especially for my growth as a performer - I wasn't anywhere near the point of learning the art of gigging and I probably wouldn't have made it past those first few bumbling attempts. Sadly, just as we were beginning to do well, she got head-hunted for a dream job and moved to London. We recorded two CDs together and musically it was a very happy time. Another major event in my growth as a musician was my gender transition. I began taking testosterone in 2002; shortly after, my voice broke and I couldn't sing for 3 years. This is a story in itself, but lucky for me I don't have to tell it all here because my friend made a great documentary about it, the award winning film Funny Kinda Guy www.funnykindaguy.com The film uses my music throughout, and when it came out in 2005/6 I managed a few mini gigs but my voice wasn't really up to it at the time. Since then my new voice has really grown into itself; my range is still quite small but given the fact that I write my own songs it's not a problem. 2008 was a big year for me musically as I released Sacred Earth, my first solo album, and went on a musical pilgrimage across North America playing mini-gigs to the people and communities I stayed with along the way. Sacred Earth was written while I lived in an open minded Christian community on the island of Iona. The album has proved to be very successful on Iona and many people tell me that it has managed to capture something of the spirit of Iona. Living in a modern day abbey really did open my eyes to see the world differently. It also changed me musically and was a fantastic musical education for me. Chants and other spirituals have now become part of my own music. I took a year off from everything in 2009: a time to withdraw. For most of the year I walked the beach and played my parents' piano in the town of Arbroath where I was born and grew up. Not surprisingly, this became a big song writing year: not working gave me a lot of time to dedicate to music. Up until this time I had never seen myself as a musician but now that I was taking time out from life and all the other labels I normally would choose for myself no longer applied. I wasn't a counsellor or a gardener or a husband and in reality I played music every day for many hours and the only income I had was from my meagre CD sales. To my own astonishment I realised that I was an artist. People laughed when I told them of this sudden realisation. One very good friend said “Of course you are a bloody artist. Simon, why else would you have written all those tortured love songs?” At this time I became friends with the wonderful Australian singer songwriter Rebecca Wright. We played a series of house concerts together. Playing with Rebecca was an absolute joy. The songs we arranged together soon became a recording project which in turn gave birth to my new album 'The Boat Builder'. This new album is the first album I've written that is specifically woven to be an entire piece rather than a collection of songs from a set time in my life. The Boat Builder was recorded in two parts with a nine month gap of time in the middle because I went to Maine in the USA to do a wooden boat building apprenticeship – as you do! Having this gap in the middle of recording the album was great because it meant that I wrote more songs and also had time to ponder the album and interweave the themes throughout. At the moment I'm back in the USA (this time in Washington State) doing more boat building but I reckon I'll have time to squeeze in the odd gig or two. |
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