Voila!

this is probably the beginning of an arty series about supermarkets

Friday night: it’s pouring with rain and I am walking down the worst-lit street in Toronto. It’s near pitch black and I’m getting soaked. And I’m pretty sure I have no idea where I’m going. I feel my phone buzz and I look down, the screen getting spattered with raindrops.

Mr. Swipey: is it raining?
Olivia: yes. ;(
Olivia: it’s also really dark
Mr. Swipey: walk back to the subway stop
Mr. Swipey: I’ll come pick you up

My flatmate was having a birthday party and I wasn’t in the mood to drink, so I’d escaped Parkdale to go hang out with Mr. Swipey. We spent the evening eating popcorn and watching Cowboy Bebop, and an episode of the most terrible/amazing drama, Devious Maids, which was basically Desperate Housewives for housekeepers. At about one in the morning Mr. Swipey suggest we watch The Shining.

It’s funny, because as a teenager I went through a serious The Shining phase, where I read the book in about a week, scared and trembling under my duvet covers in the summertime, before then buying the film and making a point of making every and any guy I was crushing on at the moment to sit down and watch it with me. It was a strange tradition I’d made for myself. For some reason, every single one of these suitors would turn round to me at some point and declare that the film wasn’t really that good. I would scoff and hit them over the head and defend Kubrick. This was the first time the guy had suggested that I watch The Shining with him.

I was getting sleepy. There was three of us on the couch: Mr. Swipey, me and Blaise, the one-eyed cat, who was stretched out next to me, purring. I found myself struggling to keep my eyes awake, and slowly slipping down the couch until I was basically horizontal with my head propped up on Mr. Swipey’s shoulder. I blinked slowly, mouthing Jack Torrance’s lines and almost nearly getting them right…

“Are you asleep?”

“Huh?”

I opened my eyes and looked up at Mr. Swipey, who was looking down at me. Maybe? Maybe I should go home. Yeah, maybe I should. Swipey drove me to the bus station and I made my way back to the flat. When I got in, it was two in the morning, but the party downstairs was still going strong. My flatmate is from France, and as I went to my room and sat up on my laptop, I heard many an exclamation in French. I laughed to myself as I heard them say “Paris!” (pronounced, Paree!) and “VOILA!” very loudly, like parodies of themselves. There are drunk French people downstairs and they are literally saying, “voila!”, I thought. This is like someone overhearing a Scottish shindig where every other word is “hootsmon!”

I ended up not sleeping until five in the morning, having been up on the internet, filling my head with ideas for my next music project. After about four hours of sleep, I woke up, walked to a toy store and bought a kid’s xylophone, then went home to begin working on something.

My room became my music cave. I was sort-of-almost-totally ignoring all communications from people, sitting in my bra and pants beside my bed with my unwashed hair tied up and a microphone in my hand. I picked up a poem I’d written a few years ago and recorded a reading of it over some finger picking on my acoustic. I used a synth program on my iPad to fill it out. I wrote some lyrics and sang verses, harmonising with myself. I got the xylophone and sprinkled its sounds over the track. I found a clip of birds singing and faded it in. What I created was really different from my usual sound, but it was beautiful, I thought. I called the song April, as it borrowed that famous line from T.S. Eliot: April is the cruelest month.

By Sunday afternoon I had finished my project. I called it sadgirls, because the songs were kinda sad and about emotions and relationships that hadn’t gone my way. At the same time, I liked the images of spring that I’d sewn into the lyrics of a couple of the songs. It was kind of saying, “yeah, things sucked with This Guy and That Guy but I’m just on the cusp of a change, soon flowers will start blooming and I’ll become my newest self.” It wasn’t necessarily about Mr. Swipey, in fact, the song April was about someone entirely different. It was just about those feelings I had, which I found all too familiar, having experienced them over and over again through the years, each time a different person, but ultimately the same outcome.

On Sunday night I met up with Robert, heading to The Horseshoe Tavern to see one of my favourite bands, Cloud Nothings, play. I remember when I worked at Freshair.org.uk (the student radio station) back in Edinburgh and went to see Cloud Nothings in Glasgow, I and a couple of my friends got to interview the lead singer, Dylan. I didn’t ask many questions, having only just become acquainted with the band. But now, here I was in Toronto, and so hyped and ready to see them play! Robert and I were standing at the bar, getting a drink. People were milling about, the first support act had just finished playing, and that’s when I turned and saw Dylan walk right past me. “Oh my GOD, Robert, that’s him!!!” I said, my eyes bugging out of my head. He was so cute and alternative and everything. 

“All I see is a hoodie, a pair of glasses and a beard,” Robert quipped.

“Exactly!” I replied. I had to go and speak to him. He was standing by the merch table, chilling out and talking to some people. I hovered over, and pretended to look at the vinyl on sale. I went back to Robert and made “eeeeh I can’t do it” noises. I went back over. I went back to Robert. After a few rounds of this ping-pong charade, I made some idle chatter with the girl behind the merch table, all the while thinking, don’t even think for a second I’m going to give you any money, as soon as Dylan stops talking to whoever he’s talking to I’m gonna — my head zoomed up from the overpriced CDs to the guy standing in front of me.

“Hey, you won’t remember this but back when you guys played a show in Glasgow a couple of years ago I interviewed you for the student radio!”

“Ah, cool! Yeah was that the show at Captain’s Rest?”

And then, we were talking. It wasn’t one of those creepy, one-sided conversations that you have with a famous person you’ve never met, where you’re gushing and your hands are kind of shaking and then you have to excuse yourself before you combust right in front of them, all the while your object of adoration is being very polite and accommodating. I was cool. He asked me why I was in Toronto, what I was doing here. He even asked me what my name was, and then offered me his hand to shake while I introduced myself. Careful not to jinx it, after a couple minutes chatting to him I tapped him lightly on the arm while saying that it was great to meet him, have a great show, and left him to the gawping boys asking for Sharpie signatures on posters.

I would like to announce some exciting news now, everyone. Currently at work we are doing the publicity for one of Canada’s largest music festivals, Canadian Music Week. This takes place in May, and venues all over Toronto participate. There are over 800 bands that come to play in the city during this time (including cool people like M.I.A. and Owen Pallett!). A few weeks ago in the office, my supervisor, Sacha, turned round to me and asked how I’d feel if I was able to get a slot to play in Canadian Music Week. “Uh… that would be, really cool?” I said, kind of startled that someone who I wasn’t even sure had ever heard my music was willing to get me into the festival.

Fast forward to the present day, and I’ve got a 40 minute set at The Free Times Cafe, at an official CMW gig! I’m so excited about this, but at the same time, am kind of terrified. Is my music that good? How will I measure up to the other artists I’m going to be sharing the stage with, who probably do this kind of thing and get paid for it? What’s going on with my website!? Why is everything I’ve recorded terrible!? Will I ever find band members!?!?!? What’s going on!??!?!?!??!?!/!

I have one month. In the grand scheme of things, this isn’t going to be a big deal, I know that. But for now, it is a big deal. It’s a pretty big deal for me.

So this is the part where I ask you guys to like my Facebook page, to check out all my links and to follow me on Twitter and be supportive! It means a lot (we gotta do a good job of convincing these Canadians that I'm actually a half-decent songwriter, quick, before anyone notices and can say otherwise!).

I’ve also made a music video, which you can watch and enjoy the springy-springtime vibes.

Am I decomposing
Or am I just changing?
I’ll blossom in springtime
Down under the green pine
I’ll blossom in springtime
Down under the green pine