To be honest, the meaning of our song Hurricanes flipped entirely just a few months after it was written.
I was feeling homesick for Newfoundland & Labrador and missing the culture that revolves so heavily around music. I'm sure you've heard about it...
The kitchen parties packed with fiddles, harmonicas, guitars, spoons, ugly sticks (yes, it's an instrument), and whatever else is laying around.
The shanties they sing to make work at sea a little more tolerable.
The accordion melody you hear from an old fisherman sitting at the edge of the doc in a little harbour.
But that wasn't quite my experience.
I'd heard about families around the bay where everyone from the grandkids to the great grandparents plays an instrument and they sing old Irish songs together every weekend. My only kitchen parties happened in my beer-soaked university days and there were usually a only couple guitars.
And of course I know the sea shanties—but not from fishing on the sea. Or fishing anywhere. I know them because my mom puts on OZFM's Jigs & Reels every Sunday morning.
And I'd heard buskers filling the open air with music in downtown St. John's, but it's not quite the same as witnessing someone's weathered uncle playing reels on an ancient accordion and hearing it glide over the waves to comfort the souls lost at sea.
As a kid, I mouthed the words in choir because I was too afraid to be heard. After that, I pretended to play saxophone in band until I quit because I couldn't read the notes.
That's the kind of thoughts that held me as the melody for Hurricanes came into my head—I was longing for something I missed, and something I never really had. I left The Rock to chase mountains when I was 20 and it left me clinging to a culture I could barely call my own.
But I felt that intense connection to music, still. I picked up guitar fairly seriously a few years before I left the island and sang to myself for hours on end just because it felt good. I'd write so many songs I'd forget some even existed until I read through my notebook months later. I tuned into every local radio station that played Celtic music and felt connected to all the other listeners out there.
The original lyrics to the chorus of Hurricanes read:
I'll never know why the fiddle feels like gold in my veins,
I'll never know why my feet just wanna spin like hurricanes,
I knew music was ingrained in me, but I couldn't relate to those classic scenes we all talk about. Until one day, I remembered different scenes. Different memories.
I remembered the keyboard my parents bought us as kids and the hours I'd spent learning Yesterday and Crocodile Rock. I remembered the jingle I wrote on it about hot cocoa after coming in from a long day on the toboggan run that my parents meticulously built alongside our house.
I remembered my mom's good friend Wayne giving us a lesson on drums and the hours I'd spent practicing it all afterwards.
I remembered my friend Nicole from junior high who casually altered my life when she spat out the words, "anyone can sing" on a random Saturday afternoon after soccer practice.
I remembered hearing how my Great Aunt Marg was a talented tuna fisher and I imagined her bobbing along, humming old Irish melodies. I remembered how one of my first jobs on the mainland was as a tour boat Captain, and how natural it felt.
I remembered how over the years, my sisters have played guitar, bass, trombone, trumpet, keys, and more probably.
I remembered my grandma and my aunts and their love for hymns and singing together.
I remembered my mom singing along to all the songs on Jigs & Reels and dancing in the kitchen to the morning sun.
I especially remembered hearing my grandma singing Ave Maria from the bed in her care home, long after dementia had taken over everything else.
The lyrics became:
Oh, yes I know, why the sound feels like gold in my veins,
Oh, yes I know, why my feet just wanna spin like hurricanes,
Maybe it wasn't the stereotypical experience, but I can still count it. The magic of music runs deep, doesn't it? — Alexanne (Alice the Malice)
Lyrics
Well my voice ain’t nearly gruff enough, I’m just a little thing,
But I’ll never forget when Nicole said “anyone can sing,”
No doubt she didn’t mean punk rock but try telling me now,
‘Cause someone let me up here and there’s no getting me down,
Oh yes I know, why the sound feels like gold in my veins
Oh yes I know, why my feet just wanna spin like hurricanes
Well I never worked the fishery but when I left The Rock,
Well I made myself a captain and went workin’ on the docks,
And in the after-hours when we’re fighting just to stand,
Guaranteed you’ll find me with a guitar in my hand,
Oh yes I know, why the sound feels like gold in my veins,
Oh yes I know, why my feet just wanna spin like hurricanes,
Trace my tree back far enough I know there’s gotta be,
A bunch of ragged scallywags who belted on the sea,
‘Cause even in her final days when she lost her memory,
She never lost that alto voice, she sang Ave Mari—a
Oh yes I know, why the sound feels like gold in my veins
Oh yes I know, why my feet just wanna spin like hurricanes
Oh yes I know, why the sound feels like gold in my veins
Oh yes I know, why my feet just wanna spin like hurricanes
Oh yes I know, why the sound feels like gold in my veins
Oh yes I know, why my feet just wanna spin like hurricanes
Commentaires