Sing! It’s good for you (even if you can’t sing)

To get straight to the point: if you don’t make music, you’re not really living. That may sound like a rather firm belief. But however you look at it, Guest blogger Iris Siemons, songwriter and singer, always seems to come back to that conclusion. Iris recommends starting with the most personal instrument there is—the one everyone carries with them: the voice. Singing is good for you!

Zing! Het is goed voor je (ook al kun je het niet)

The freedom to sing

The first time I really realised that was in Uganda. Regularly, during the seven months I was there, I’d pass pick-up trucks filled with school classes, men working in the fields, or groups of women at the washbasin, all singing at the top of their lungs. Together, wholeheartedly—as a pastime, without embarrassment, and sometimes without much sense of pitch either. It’s a kind of freedom we don’t really have in the UK anymore. I can easily imagine it being like that here before the arrival of radio.

The belief planted by a critical music teacher

A large part of the British public is convinced they can’t sing. This person won’t whistle a tune in the shower. They mime “Happy Birthday” at parties, hoping nobody notices—especially not someone with a good ear. They’d rather not clap along with the crowd either, because despite their best efforts, they still manage to clap just slightly out of time. Somewhere, it started with a belief—probably picked up from a musically critical teacher, the conductor of a children’s choir, or worse: your mum.

Backed up by TV

Entertainment shows like The X Factor, The Voice UK and Britain’s Got Talent only reinforce the idea: if you’re not perfectly in tune, technically flawless and giving it absolutely everything, you’re out. The judges have to fall off their chairs, or you might as well keep your mouth shut. We go for good, better, best. Making music becomes a contest—a competition where only one person gets to take the prize. And as we sit on the sofa at home watching the contestants on screen, we all have an opinion. I find it worrying at times… I’d love to see making music as a form of expression, where what matters is that you do it—whatever your level or taste may be.

Een paar tonen

A few notes

For my dad’s 65th birthday, my sisters and I gave him his very first piano lesson. My dad is, as he puts it, a bit of a softie, so he’s quick to shed a tear when he’s moved. At 66, he was diagnosed with cancer. A lot happened at once, and before we knew it he was in hospital in isolation for three weeks. When we arrived, we talked about how we all seemed to be emotionally locked up. We’re all pretty soft-hearted, but there we were together with dry eyes and pale faces. We knew the tears would come later, once there was a bit more calm. More than a week later, the piano teacher came to visit and brought his stage piano to my dad’s hospital bed. They played a simple little tune together, a harmony of just a few notes—and there they were: the tears.

Humming

Making music sets something in motion. It’s natural. It makes sense. It’s strange not to do it. There’s no religion without hymns. No culture without songs. No child who hasn’t ever hummed while playing. I think that if you don’t allow yourself to sing, you’re missing something without even knowing you’re missing it—and without knowing how much you’re missing. It doesn’t need a label of right or wrong. Just start, dear fellow human, by humming in the shower. Preferably with your eyes closed—I promise you, a whole new world will open up.

Do you have an idea for how we can help more people enjoy making music?

Guest blogger Iris Siemons

Iris Siemons is an independent songwriter and singer. She writes laid-back alternative/indie pop songs.

Her debut EP will be released in September 2018. This year, Iris is also launching her ‘Soundtrack of your moment’, where she writes a song for a specific person for a special occasion.