Happiness as Anarchy #19: My Audience

My audience brings me joy every single time I get on stage. I don’t know if they realise how special they are and how much I love them. I do a little gig once a month at Craig’s Hotel in Ballarat, down in the cellar, and every month I go home with a smile on my face and a heart full of love. We share a space and time each month and I’m very humbled that everyone who comes gives a few hours of their time to listen to the music I make. The atmosphere is very relaxed and we often have a conversation in the middle of the set about songs and stories and experiences. And there are always a few songs where everyone joins in to sing – that’s one of my favourite moments as a performer – when we all make music together.

One very special thing about this particular audience is the way they let me experiment – with new songs, poetry, different instruments, and occasionally a new song of mine. Thank you, if you were there last night, for letting me share that new song in such a loving environment. It was hard thing for me to do, but you made it you made it possible.

Here’s a little clip from last night of a song written in 1928 – I Can’t Give You Anything But Love – by Jimmy McHugh (music) and Dorothy Fields (lyrics). I’m playing my new ukulele, Petunia.

 

 

Dying cowboys and double basses

Like the 19th century prairie, recording is a strange blend of high stress, fun and the beauty of being completely in the moment. The stress is in making something semi-permanent and paying for studio time, and the beauty lies in a dedicated time and space centred on sound and capturing the music. So it’s an absolute treat to take out the stressful part and record on a whim without any risk (read: cost) or outcome (read: album to release), which is exactly what I did a week or so ago.

This is how it happened:

Rex: “Hey Amie, do you want to record some stuff at The Main Bar sometime?”

Amie: “I’d love to. How about Wednesday night?”

Rex: “Cool. Let’s do it.”

So we did. Twas a great night recording some songs with piano, uke and double bass. No stress because it didn’t matter if we got any good recordings out of it or not. The funny thing is a lot of went quite well!

Here’s a sample: Bury Me Not On The Lone Prairie

 

Crème de Mémoire – Amie Brûlée’s new CD is now available

I’ve just picked it up from the printers and it looks très chic in that special brûlée blue. There are eleven tracks of fabulous French songs sung by Amie with Bruce Millar playing guitar, and I do think it sounds best with a glass of champagne and some delicious cheese.

If you’d like to purchase a copy ($20) send me an email and we’ll work out the easiest way of getting it to you.

A plus, Amie