HEAR ME WHEN I SAY by Rachel Derham  

it usually starts like this

it usually starts like this

These aren’t just songs that I’ve written and recorded. This is the soundtrack to my life. It’s in the pssshht pssshht of the fly spray automatically going off, in the screams of the kids (as much in fury as in delight), in the rising screech of the washing machine going nuclear on the spin cycle, in the birds and the cicadas and in the door slamming.

Garageband. It’s a great way to get the soundscape blowing around my brain out of my head. I send small sound-bombs out to a circle of friends and acquaintances from time to time. I put one out on a community page a while ago and got more likes than anything else I’ve posted. It is cool to send them out to complete strangers from any and everywhere in the world.

That’s what it’s all about isn’t it, artistic expression? Connection?  If we’re honest, it’s pretty much about therapy as well. When I write music, I’m trying to find the right way to settle something within myself. If somebody else listening to it gets to settle something in themselves, then that’s a big thrill.  Connection therapy.

That’s what music does for us. It’s a beautiful way of reminding ourselves we’re not alone in feeling what we feel. There’s something for everyone with millions of tunes out there. We’re all different and inhabit different ‘clubs’ of music tastes. The opening bars of ‘Hey Ho, Let’s Go’ by The Ramones get me pogo-ing round the room but Glen Miller’s more like to get my mum tripping the light fantastic. I can’t second guess who’s going to like my stuff, that’s what makes it so interesting. I want to find out who’s going to like it. And why.

Yeah, of course I want to go viral and write a tune, which just gets into everyone’s head like a worm and I want to earn myself success doing what I love. Isn’t that the holygrail?

But if they all just make up the soundtrack to my life, I’m ok with that. Like a sound diary. Cars, screams and birds. The birds at the end of this song are kind of magical – a complete accident of timing, couldn’t have done it better if I’d have tried and I didn’t know they had done that until I listened back. Thank you, birds.