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Day 18: vaguely musical
Monday, 13 April 2020 05:45 pmAnother unanticipated lockdown effect: apparently being stuck in the house, alone save for cats, for weeks on end is sufficient to overcome my considerable self-consciousness about playing my piano. I have barely played my piano since moving to this house. The fact that it's a semi-detached domicile puts me madly on top of my neighbours, and despite a relatively efficient practice bar muffling my efforts, I have found myself hugely hesitant to inflict my mediocre and very rusty piano skills on anyone.
The piano is up against the wall I share with my right-hand neighbours, through which I have never heard any actual noise carry unless the nice male half of the couple is drilling holes in the shared wall. (This is in sharp contradistinction to the wall I share with my left-hand neighbour, through which I can hear his TV, his washing up efforts, his music (very large overlap with mine, fortunately, he's approximately the same vintage and listens to a lot of alt and indie), and on random occasions, sex noises.) But I have still not been able to bring myself to play other than very occasionally.
Today, however, I spontaneously sat down at the piano and, its chronic lack of tune notwithstanding, spent a happy hour or so noodling around with David Bowie, causing me to rediscover, with some pain, his characteristic addiction to the key of F. I hate playing in flats. To this I added random 80s hits, Death Cab for Cutie and, for some reason, Kermit the Frog's "Rainbow connection", which has lovely chord progressions. I am horribly, awfully, horrendously out of practice, but it was fun, and I shall do it again, and the neighbours can simply deal. Next time it'll be Air Supply, who are beautifully florid to play on the piano, and Neil Diamond. Just because. Also, I must break out the guitar, which I don't think I've touched in a couple of years. Taking bets on how many tones out of tune it'll be.
The piano is up against the wall I share with my right-hand neighbours, through which I have never heard any actual noise carry unless the nice male half of the couple is drilling holes in the shared wall. (This is in sharp contradistinction to the wall I share with my left-hand neighbour, through which I can hear his TV, his washing up efforts, his music (very large overlap with mine, fortunately, he's approximately the same vintage and listens to a lot of alt and indie), and on random occasions, sex noises.) But I have still not been able to bring myself to play other than very occasionally.
Today, however, I spontaneously sat down at the piano and, its chronic lack of tune notwithstanding, spent a happy hour or so noodling around with David Bowie, causing me to rediscover, with some pain, his characteristic addiction to the key of F. I hate playing in flats. To this I added random 80s hits, Death Cab for Cutie and, for some reason, Kermit the Frog's "Rainbow connection", which has lovely chord progressions. I am horribly, awfully, horrendously out of practice, but it was fun, and I shall do it again, and the neighbours can simply deal. Next time it'll be Air Supply, who are beautifully florid to play on the piano, and Neil Diamond. Just because. Also, I must break out the guitar, which I don't think I've touched in a couple of years. Taking bets on how many tones out of tune it'll be.
