Celebration Song

 

“Of course” I thought as within the first three seconds of Noahs foot stomps I realized it was “Boom Boom” he was playing. I didn’t even have to hear notes. I just knew the way his body started moving that it was a Hooker song. I feel like there is such a direct attitude and swagger in relation to any John Lee song that whenever someone covers one you can tell by slight body language changes.

I sat there as he played staring at the people in the room… all ten of them. Each person simultaneously became more alive. There was magic in the air, there was more drinks being ordered. Again, just as I had had in Los Angeles I was having an ” AHA” moment in Calgary this particular evening.

“Well fuck me” I thought as I realized I had lost the very clear message I had got two years prior. My hands simultaneously found their way to my forehead as I pressed against my eyes almost sinking them back into my skull. The more the song went on, the more I cringed at my temporarily diverted path into quasi- pop- folk- something- or- other- music. Than I laughed, as people gave Noah a standing ovation I stayed seated shaking my head and laughing. “Again” I spoke to myself,  ” God dammit I let this happen again.”

for the next two weeks across Canada on our tour I watched as Noah opened the crowd with his straight up blues repertoire. I silently suffered, anxious to get back to King City where I could begin to sink my fingers into these strings deep and start finally following the path that has been set out for me. I was still somewhat nervous to announce anything of my new re-found revelation. So, night after night I sat at the edge of the stage watching as he played…. studying his fingers… how his right hand went from a fist and exploded banging the strings with such vigor, like a claw or a firework… I watched how his left hand danced around different licks and riffs… How depending on what type of blues or bluesman he was imitating that dance would change ever so slightly. I burned these images into my brain.

Back before I moved home to King City while still in California, Noah was the first person to teach me how to play slide. It was outdoors… we sat together on the ledge of my front porch. It was a warm and perfect day in hollywood. I asked him to teach me Robert Johnson’s “Ramblin’ on my mind” It took him 2 and a half hours. I played that song no lie 0ver 30 times a day… I would wake up, play it five times, eat, play it again, talk to roommates, be playing it… and so on… I’m surprised no one tried to kick me out of the house for it.

(* Here is a video of a younger me playing Ramblin’ in my second residence ( A house on Wilcox ave with roommates instead of my cigarette box on Fuller ave) bedroom  in Hollywood. At this point I must have played this song for three days straight.)

 

 

Naturally the day I returned from tour I grabbed a slide that was collecting dust in my bedroom and played “Ramblin”. I stumbled like anyone after two years would… But just like riding I bike, in no time I was whipping around the neck … my heart racing from excitement.  I had so much to learn, so much to catch up on. I felt like I had just wasted two years I could have been doing THIS!!!!

I stopped playing shows, got a job at some salon as a receptionist and started rigourously  teaching myself how to actually play guitar and sing. It didn’t come easy to me, in fact… I think one of the reasons why I love what I do now is that I’m always challenged and ALWAYS risking looking like a fool while writing or learning songs that are way more advanced than my skill level; forcing myself to perform them & record them in little to no time. I pretty much live in a constant state of anxiety with gradual breaks of the most satisfying feeling of  accomplishment and pride when I do finally nail it.  As soon as I feel that satisfaction I throw myself back into the lions den scouring to survive and use the instincts I’ve learnt thus far to guide me.  Because it’s not just about skill. It’s about getting that skill to such a level that it’s effortless to a point where you can deliver the most sincere and honest song with those skills. After all, if there aint’ no feeling behind any guitar lick I don’t care about it, and neither should you.

A year later I recorded “Hidden Dreams” under the moniker ” The Coppertone”. I have never felt so damn good and right as I felt during those sessions. I had finally felt like I was in the right place at the right time. Amazing how trusting that voice inside your head/heart can do for you… in my case the voice of John Lee Hooker.  ;)

Since than in-between playing, recording, getting by, trying to be social etc… I have been planning my trip down south.  ( Yes, I apologize I took forever to get to the actual point of this four part blog entry… yes this is the third… yes there will be a fourth… don’t hate me) I figured I would reward myself with it   ( the trip) once I had certain apsects of my career in place. My goals were these:

1) Have a manager

2) Have a record label

3) Have a booking agent

4) Have a publicist

5) Have at least two records out ( Hidden Dreams, Hymns for the Hollow )

6) Have a solid understanding and knowledge of where down South I am going and why.

—

The list is just a list, and it’s silly and actually reads pretty lame but it was what I needed to keep me focused. I’m goal oriented and so I knew if I wanted something bad enough, ifit was burning inside of me every day I would work damn hard to get there. After I wrote the above list … 6 months later I had checked everything off.  The day I checked the last one off I came home, turned on my record player, walked over to my wall of records, slowly and pleasurably sifted through them… all the while, the scent of the cardboard sleeves and dust filled the air with the most amazing aroma ( like that of an old classic book that you open in the library and as the pages flutter by your thumb… that unmistakable scent of rich stories and archaic parchment fills the air) I used my index finger to help will out my celebration song…

That’s when John Lee Hooker Kicked me in the ass…

 

I was having a “nervous breakdown” in my pill box sized ,white stucco- jail barred windowed-one room apartment in Hollwood, CA. The day was beyond blistering hot that it felt like the walls were sweating. I was down on myself. I had just got back  another “F” on some class I was busting my ass to catch up in. I think we had to play the solo in “Stairway to heaven”. I love Jimmy Page but that day I resented him like some passive aggressive lover after years of a dysfunctional marriage.  My desire to play guitar never wavered even on days like this however it seemed like I had just lost the love of my life in the army and I was mourning something big. I couldn’t figure out what it was… I was in L.A. in school for guitar after faking an entrance exam and begging them to let me stay… I had my own 24 hour practice room that I could be as loud as I wanted to be and play as much as I wanted to play at anytime, I had sun shining and perfect weather, I was surrounded by people who were better than me and who I could learn from…. As far as anyone (myself included) was concerned I should have been on top of the world. Tears were streaming down my freckled face as my laptop itunes  on shuffle created the soundtrack to the misery. I was overwhelmed. I was taking in so much so fast. I had everyone around me obsessing about fame and glory and rock n roll and sex and drugs and parties and clothes….and …and… and. Even though I was well rooted in where I grew up, my ideals and my goals, I am sensitive and couldn’t help but feel suffocated by all of my peers.  Somehow in the midst of my own obsession ( the guitar) and theirs ( the fame) I fell astray to what really, truly makes me happy.

 

Than it happened.

 

The first 18 seconds… The instrumental first pass at John Lee Hookers 12 bar turn around for “Boom Boom”  pierced through my cluttered brain and sliced my tears away. Everything paused around me. It felt like I was frozen in time.

 

“Boom, Boom, Boom , Boom”

 

The hair stood up on my arms like a ghost waltzed into the room.

 

“Gonna shoot you right down”

 

My foot started uncontrollably stomping.

 

“Right off of your feet”

 

And he did… He shot me. Right than and there in my personal hell hole of a sauna prison on Fuller Ave in-between Hollywood BLVD and Sunset, John Lee Hooker killed me.  Within my death everything became crystal clear. It felt spiritual, I had a knowing. In all of my doubt, and in all of my worry… In all of my clouded judgement and perplexed faith… In all of my burden and all of my pain I found him… I found the blues.  With that I was re-born. Now, I know you are thinking “what do you mean you found the blues?” All I can say is I truly god honest feel like John Lee Hooker heard me cry that day and from the grave gave me the answer. Maybe he drank one too many  down there and thought I was Bonnie Raitt in trouble…. regardless he spoke to me.  It wasn’t through any lyric in “Boom Boom”. It wasn’t through any specific chord. It was through the feeling… It’s the same unexplainable feeling I spoke about in regards to the deep south earlier. That “Knowing”. It wasn’t halfway through the song when I picked up my guitar and started playing along realizing that what I needed… What I had to do… was right there with me all along; play the blues. Yes, it sounds increasingly tacky that I just said ” play the blues” & self professed John Lee Hookers prophetic message to me to do so; however that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

 

Everything changed from that day on. All the music I had on my computer, back home on vinyl… All the music I knew so well I now felt as if I was hearing it for the first time. Man did I feel energized. I dropped out of school and dedicated every second of my day to listening, studying, reading, watching, jamming, questioning, digging for information and songs from all the great bluesmen/women I could find. I was a research maniac. I’d start with someone I loved … for this stories sake lets say John Lee Hooker. Than I would research his major influences, after stumbling upon those I would find theirs and so on and so on. I would find patterns and tones and sounds that connected them all together. I felt more alive than I ever had. It gave me purpose, it gave me back my life. I realized that there were things I could learn in school for guitar ( The basics… again, I knew nothing before going… not even the notes of each string to tune the damn thing)  and than there were things that I could only learn through listening and imitating. Life made sense again. I did the exact same thing as I did when I taught myself how to sing. Listen to old records repetitively over and over again picking out each note…. slowing down every phrase till I’d nail it and than move on. I was a sponge and the blues was my water.

 

After a non stop blues bingeing frenzy that spanned another year and a half I moved back home to Canada. I got sick of the needy transient people that were seeking recognition without hard work. I came back to the countryside to start anew and build something. The move back wasn’t as glamorous as I just made it seem… I was once again going through a dark time. Shortly after I flew back home I got diagnosed with Bi-Polar disorder. Something that took me the next year and a half to “conquer”. Very quickly I was heavily medicated and seeing a therapist once a week to understand the illness and make severe lifestyle changes to cope with it. During that year I met Dan Achen who became my confident, my producer, and my best friend. We decided to embark on an album.

 

He knew what was going on with me. I could go weeks without getting out of bed and than one day call him up and say I was ready to record. The medication had numbed my emotions and I never felt so depressed in my life than that year (I sing about the meds on a song called “I loved before”) The numbness seemed to take away my creativity. The mood stabilizers killed my “highs” or what I thought was my “inspirational bouts”. I was so lost. We were working on my record ” Love me Till I’m Me Again”. A rather clunky title I admit.

blah blah blah I’m now rambling. . .

 

The album was completed nearly two years later. In retrospect it’s funny to me because it is more pop than it is anything “bluesy”. It was my stepping stone. It was my safety net, my warm fuzzy medicated blanket of survival that year and a half. I was no where near ready nor capable to create anything respectable and call it “blues ” or “blues/rock” or “blues inspired” or whatever the hell else sub category of blues you can name. So I did what I could. And that was that.

 

Fast forward to half a year after that release… I  had managed to safely and slowly ween myself off of medication.  I was on tour across Canada with my ex boyfriend and fellow musician Noah Engh. We were in Calgary Alberta on a cool Fall evening. I was sipping a glass of Crown Royal on the rocks. I was fucking deathly bored playing the songs off of the album I had recorded while being sedated ( Cowboy chords only do it for so long with me… usually a song or two and than I’m over it). I was feeling the same itch I had back in Hollywood when I would wake up every monday morning and leap out of bed in time to walk all the way across town to spend half of my fifty dollar food budget for that week on new music. Something to get me going, something to start digging my fingers into. Noah and I were playing at some roadhouse. The stage lights came on, Noah walked to the stage, sat down on the wooden chair, grabbed his archaic rickety gold spray painted KAY and started stomping his foot….

 

That’s when John Lee Hooker kicked me in the ass…

 

 

( I know I know I did this the last time, but I have to do it again… TO BE CONTINUED)

That’s when John Lee Hooker Saved my life

I’m laying half quilt covered, half outstretched on a sofa bed in our hotel in the heart of Oakland, CA. I’ve spent the past three days here helping my little sister move into residence ( she is going to CCA). I am freshly cleaned ( I smell like Basil meets Lavender thanks to Veronicas Organic Whole Foods body soap). My hair, wavy and wet possibly dripping onto the pillow that has me perched up at the moment… this could be annoying later… the wet pillow.

Anyhow! As per usual, All I can do while I am on vacation ( or away) is think about music 89 percent of the day… The other 11 percent spent thinking about food and where I’m off to next… in between and co -mingling are thoughts of sex, trying to bring myself to the present moment with deep breathes, sleep and love. I’m a pretty easy person to please once you know how I tick. So that all being said, I have been putting a lot of thought into the trip down south I plan on embarking on this winter.

What trip to the South you may ask? well…well..well… let me explain,

Ever since I can remember I have had this constant whisper in my ear towards the deep south. Not in the way of visions or anything but more so whenever I heard music wailing from the scratched vinyl on my fathers record player with Junior, Elmore, Hooker etc. Saw a picture of field workers, or heard that thick southern drawl for the very first time… I felt a sense of De Ja Vu… Call me a hippie or a gypsy but I really do believe I have lived many past lifetimes down those dirt roads, in those juke joints, and playing on those porches. Sometimes in life there is no explainable reason for you to feel a certain “knowing” about a place, a certain sense of feeling like “home” while listening to some old crop recordings… okay , maybe it’s just me, but regardless that is where this story starts.

When I grew up around old blues, soul, motown, jazz, early rock n roll… I never really thought about it much. In comparison to how much I obsess over it now I basically co-existed with it than. It was the soundtrack to my childhood and I never really “listened” until I got a little older. There would always be music playing when I was hanging out with my dad. Wether it was with the windows down on our weekly weekend  trip into Toronto to go walk along Queen street and window shop, at home in the driveway blasting out of the garage as he worked on something and I sat close by possibly playing basketball with scratched up knees, regardless wherever my dad was when he wasn’t working there was music; and when he was home I was close by. I now associate some of my favourite songs with memories of my father.  No one in my house ever listened to radio that much, to be honest I don’t think I knew it existed until I was in my teens ( when The Backstreet Boys and Britney came through the air waves) By than, I was distracted by hormones and trying to survive being a very odd looking, even more odd mannered tween.  Adolescence was not my strong point.  I really didn’t know that the music I knew ever word and beat to ( mainly music sung and played by old black men and women) was not the type of music my peers knew and felt the wall I did.

My first realization of this was my first year in college. I was attending Sheridan College for Illustration, I was staying in the dorms there and slowly but surely managed to socialize enough to get access into some first week hoopla party. There I had my first few drinks ( for real… I’m a late bloomer) I also had my first few confusing conversations that rapidly made me realize that not a lot of people knew about my heroes. Those being the likes of Junior Kimbrough, John Lee Hooker, Lightning Hopkins, Son House… I think I managed to find some common ground with Etta ( James). Some girl went to some family wedding and at the wedding singer sung it… that or she heard Katie Holmes sing it in some 90′s rom-com.. or wait was that Dawsons Creek… doesn’t matter. I was introduced to being a freshman at the same time I was introduced to popular culture Shock.

It didn’t matter how many times I went out and danced to top 40 radio, or how many blockbuster movies captivated me with a perfectly fine tuned pop song right at that pivotal moment…usually a running scene towards some cathartic happily ever after kiss … nothing compared to the music I knew and grew up on.

So, lets fast forward ( for your sake seeing as I’m in a vacation-nostalgia-dear-diary- mood where this could go on forever if I let it)

It’s early 2000… my memory is not so great so I’ll just leave it at that. I found myself in Los Angeles California basically living out of my 24 hour practice room… attending the musicians institute after cheating the entrance exam ( I got the guitarist in the band I was in back than to do it for me… I didn’t know a thing about guitar aside from the fact that I wanted to play it) Begging the admissions office to let me stay ( once they found out during a very awkward first day orientation where they test you to find out what level to place you in… you can imagine the look on their faces when I didn’t know how to form a G chord let alone play some G minor Penatonic scale).They did… It may have been a running bet with the staff to see if I would actually redeem myself or not, or perhaps it was because I was the only other girl ( the first was a metal chick who was really into Pantera and tapping solos) that got accepted. Either way I was in and it wasn’t long until I found myself completely burnt out, starving ( literally and figuratively) and discouraged. I am the type of person that sees where I want to be ( which is usually light years ahead of where I am currently) and obsess, over work, loose sleep and any social life to get to there. I pride myself in the passion and determination I have towards the things I love and set goals towards. However it is this pride and passion that can run me down time and again. California was no different. I had learnt the scales, passed the theory and somehow managed the insane work load meant for students who had graduated out of music school like Berkley. It was half way through the first year and I was lost. I was so focused on  getting the technical and theoretical aspects down, catching up feverishly with my peers to try and jam with them and not look like a complete fool, getting my fingers to move across the fret board and not jam up or stumble aimlessly  that I found myself depressed. A place I never thought my best friend music would take me. I was also surrounded by people who left home and flew to L.A. to find fame, and glamour, to land some “record deal” and be done with it. I got lost in the “industry” and “pseudo-education” of it and some how along the way forgot where I came from. That’s when John Lee Hooker saved my life…

( Gotta go to bed… This clanking of the keyboard next to my sister is becoming increasingly annoying… So as “they” say:… TO BE CONTINUED….)

New Songs, New thoughts, New…

 

 
It’s been a good minute since I got on this thing to make an entry… Time flies, I’m trying to grasp as much summer as possible in my bones before it leaves.. etc. etc.

Lately I’ve been working on compiling a bunch of new material for the next EP I’m recoding some time in a few months or so. I don’t think I have ever put so much effort into a body of work as I have so far for this one. I think in total including the shitty ones I’ve written around 25 songs… More of which keep coming out of me.

It’s funny because when I initially started demoing new songs I had this very clear idea of what the landscape of the tunes would be. That drastically changed as more and more I was fortunate to have people I admire and respect listen and give me feedback; which in turn only made my ambitions for this next EP climb sky high. I’ve really been challenging myself and it’s been the most rewarding experience. I’ve been placing myself out of my comfort zone and really found myself back at the start studying music… Like truly listening. It reminds me of when I first picked up a guitar and became so consumed that I researched song after song… artist after artist… found their inspirations , studied them… than found theirs… and well, so on an so forth. Basically an all consuming thirst for never ending knowledge. It never left but I feel it’s on fire right now.

I’ve listened to music that I have never got into before, some that I like, some that I don’t… but allowing everything to teach me something. I’ve been writing different than ever before. A lot of which starting with lets say an old wurlitzer…  creating a simple bass line… than slowly building from there… guitar part by guitar part, harmony by harmony. I’ve really taken a strong and bold effort to try and focus on arrangements. Sonically as well, guitars are getting cleaner in parts, other times not… more dynamic. Playing with the idea of the “song” as opposed to the “guitar” in a song. Simplifying even more and letting the harmonies carry the song even if that means letting the solos get shorter or cut in entirety. It’s bizzare to hold back from what I am so comfortable doing and know I can do well.

 

I’ve been really focused on being more poetic with my lyrics… Saying things in colour as opposed to what has been said a million times in a million different songs in the same ways.  What I’m finding is that by forcing myself to sit and construct songs … like really fine tooth comb em, I’ve created a whole new vocabulary to draw from. So when those beautiful moments of sheer inspiration hit and a song comes in its entirety in one foul rapid swoop I’ve ended up creating something totally fresh and new. It’s exciting!

 

I am essentially trying to write pop songs ( meaning memorable, catchy, relevant and timeless songs…. think old soul hits not Brittney/Beyonce pop..even though I respect the writers who can make those jams) with my roots of blues and soul dressing them up. It’s a hard thing to do I’ll tell ya! Thing is, I am and always be a B sides gal. I love all the songs on records that aren’t the hits but are the interesting, moody, unique, odd ball ones. So for me, the challenge of creating a well crafted hooky song whilst adding in those interesting, moody, unique, odd ball characteristics is invigorating! It’s perhaps the hardest thing I have tried to date.

 

So far so good. I am noticing each song growing stronger than the one previous. I am being patient and taking my time … so please forgive me if these don’t get to you till it’s cold out. I really want to honor each song and give you guys the best I can. All I can say is that I am thrilled to share everything once it’s all done.

 

All that being said… I will be announcing a fall tour very soon! During which I will be testing out new material every show. Fun, I know I can’t wait to be on the road, playing every night, hanging out with everyone, making new friends, finding new Value Villages to raid… oh I can hardly sleep!

 

I love you all so very much

X

Amanda

 

P.S. In case you were wondering that picture at the top has nothing to do with the content in the blog, I just really like it

 

 

 

WOOD, RESOGLASS, BRASS N ALL THINGS WITH SASS

So Here I am on a gloomy, humid afternoon up in the country. Sipping on some green tea, the dog beside me…  Seems a fitting time to write a blog post. You guys gave me a bunch of great ideas as usual. SO, I have decided one by one , day by day, to answer each.

And here we go…

 why you choose the guitars you use and the difference between slides you use(I am curious)

photo by: gbalogh

I came across the gold 50th anniversary edition airline at one of my favourite local guitar shops called Capsule here in Toronto. I knew of airlines through Jack White but never really played around on one. They had a few, two origional oldies like Jacks … red, and this one. Just for fun I picked up a red one. I had no intention of buying a guitar that day. I played it, it was okay. Nothing special, nothing that spoke to me and my fingers. Than it was suggested I try the gold one. Reluctantly I said okay and plugged it in.

The moment I hit the first note ( I believe I played  ”I started out with nothing” from Sea Sick Steve, I knew. This feeling that happens right before I write a song… this wave of anxiety and high frequency energy started shooting up my veins. I didn’t have to play much more and I had to have it. Of course, being the start up musician early in their career I didn’t have the cash so I racked my brain as to how I could own this. I had a fender deluxe amp and a wurlitzer at home kicking around from when I first toured with my ” Amanda Zelina” record ( Love me Till I’m me Again). I whipped home, brought them back and bartered. I ended up getting ripped off royally and leaving without both gtr amp and keyboard but I HAD my new baby.

This was the day I started writing Hidden Dreams. Once I plugged it in at home, songs came flying out of it as if a spirtual force was behind those strings. I had 9 new songs in 3 days.

My blue airline came as a gift from EASTWOOD GUITARS. Dan ( my best friend and producer) had passed away a month previous when I received the email. Colin Cripps who was also Dans best friend ( as many were) contacted them and told them about my playing the gold airline. They checked out my stuff and told me they wanted to sponsor me. This is a dream come true for a musician with no money and a gear obsession. Dan always wanted my gold one since I first brought it into the studio… We always planned on taking a trip to Eastwood together and checking out their resonators. I had to design a custom guitar in memory of Dan. I wanted a replica of the gold one, same pick-ups, same neck, etc… So that I could play a different open tuning live and could easily switch between the two.  Even though both are made the same the new one sounds brighter… more treble which evens out the writing process for me ( when I’m looking for something different to paint with at home).

I also own a Supro Duel Tone Master from the 50′s. Its black paint chipping off, the hardware rusted away. I received this as a birthday present last year. Initially I was looking around and made it quite evident I was on the hunt for a National Newport 82′ …. I loved the look of them and fell in love when I heard Dan Auerbach playing one. Needless to say when I opened the case and my dueltone was resting on the red velvet like some sort of king I fell in love. The tone on this guitar is heavy, sludgy, muddy and thick. Delicious.

Each guitar has a different tone and feel… Some are brighter and happier, some are heavier and swampier, some are moodier, some are lighter, some have more swagger, some are more crooning. Either way, every one I love like children. All incredible all in different ways with their own characters and quirks.

As for slides. I only play brass slides. I’ve tried every single slide out there but always end up settling on brass. There is a grit to it and a bite that I just can’t get with glass. I prefer to dig into the strings ( I also never play with a pick) to really get that sustain . Glass is wonderful but not for me. At least not right now. I like dirt in my sound, brass gives me that.

photo by: gbalogh

 

And now if you are all not too bored from my “muso” ramblings, onto the guitar I am currently on the hunt for…

a Harmony Stratotone H44. Yes, this tiny bodied coppertone finish baseball bat of a neak guitar must be mine. If anyone finds an original of these for sale…that isn’t over 2 grand , I’ll write a song just for you , record it and mail it to your front door. No joke. Let’s get hunting!!!

 

Love you ,

Amanda

X

Well Well Well

Well well well… What a few weeks! I seem to be sleeping a lot less than usual ( seeing that I LOVE sleep) I just read an article someone wrote about me and my past year. All summed up it made me stop for a brief second and take in what has gone down. How far I’ve come, and how much closer I am to reaching all y goals set out for 2011. It’s a good feeling, that’s for sure. I’ve performed at Yonge and Dundas square for NXNE, I’ve sung a duet with my good friend Dallas ( City and Colour) and I’ve played a show with The Black Keys. I’ve also managed to write a tone of new songs, play more than I ever have live, meet incredible people, and make new friends/fans that I can not picture my life without.

I’d say I’m on the right track. After years of continual work ( all done with a smile on my face) it is a beautiful feeling to know that my efforts are paying off. I always get asked in interviews what advice I would give to anyone starting out who want to be musicians and have  a career. I always say, NEVER STOP. It’s really that simple. If you have any desire to be a musician just follow your heart, disregard any set backs, only think about putting one foot in front of the other or one chord beside the next. Keep at it, Educate yourself about the business and work hard. It should be easy to do if all you want is to do this. I’m a perfect example. Never think any goal is too big, just know everyone at the end of the day is a person like you or me and everyone needs music.

 

Anyway, I have been cooped  up writing like a fiend. Listening to music I don’t normally listen to, breaking outside of my box and trying new sounds. Surf music, Old Soul, Mexican flavour… you name it I am throwing myself full force ahead into it. I want these next bunch of songs to be refreshing, daring, new, fresh… so we will see. Can’t wait for you to hear them. What I love most about being a musician is that no matter how the music is changed by it’s many influences there are always those who will embrace it and grow with me. That way I feel connected to the listeners.

I’ll leave you now with some surf just cause.

X

Amanda

 

muse