This is my response to the earlier Flashback Track Friday prompt. Fancied some music today… eventually!
This fresh-faced boy, the new addition,
Invisible, no bode,
But golden voice betrayed the gift,
With which he’d been bestowed..
This crystal-clear soprano,
A voice of honey, sweet,
From bud to fragrant beauty,
With talent he’s replete
A malleable infant,
A songbird to perform,
His pitch might be an angel’s
In holy uniform.
Uneasy moments followed,
Not caring to belong,
With such abundant talent,
What needs had he beyond?
A voice he took for granted,
No inkling of the worth,
Just something that came natural,
A talent had since birth.
Brilliant prompt, KK. I would never otherwise have even thought of this. I have found this with FBTF – that was why I jumped at the chance to get involved. It has me looking in crevices that I had long since forgotten even existed.
I was about eight or nine, and the music teacher at school announced that the local church was looking for new recruits to its choir. I have no idea why, but along with a couple of others, I stepped forward. Within a few weeks, I was the most junior member of the choir at St David, Childwall.
I stuck with it. From this timid creature to start with, I rose gradually through the choir, made a place for myself. I never really appreciated the talent I had, but in hindsight, I must have been good. When the local churches banded together for some event, as they did frequently, I was the one who sang solo. I was embarrassed by this – this ability set me apart when I just wanted to be a part of the crew. There was jealousy from other boys, but looking back I did not help myself. I knew I was talented, I was conceited, I must have been a nightmare to work with. But that’s part of growing up, no? The realisation that we are not the centre of the universe? Bear in mind, I’m probably talking about a twelve-year-old boy here.
I started attending soccer matches. Shouting, chanting, not caring about my voice. As it was breaking by then, I cared even less. And, to my shame, there are no recordings of my voice. I know that this disappointed my parents, especially. I remember wiping over one cassette, not long after leaving the choir. Again, no appreciation of the precious gift I once had.
My experience in that church was very formative, I ended up walking away, extremely disillusioned, and my experiences were the seed for many of the views that I hold today – not views on religion, per se, but more specifically churches. I posted on this here, if you would like to read, but today I wish to confine myself to the music.
So, I lastly wanted to present some music today. It is a solo I once performed, although the version you hear is not me. Not just me, but quite universally, this is a challenge among challenges. . You’re straight in, at the very top of the range, you have to hit that top note clear as a bell, no run-up.
I do wonder, now, just how good I was. I know I took my talent for granted, but I guess we’ll never know how much of it I actually had. But I stood there and performed this piece, to an audience of hundreds. Possibly not as well as this recording, but it can’t have been that far short. That’s how good I must have been.
The whole piece is just over 4 minutes.