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Ecw Press - Emm Gryner

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147 pages

English

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'Vocal health tips, stories from the tour bus, and action items to improve your voice and boost your self-confidence from an award-winning musician and life coach Performing with David Bowie, surviving the murky depths of the music business, enduring a painful divorce, and making the first music video in outer space, award-winning recording artist Emm Gryner has navigated through life s highs and lows using a secret compass: singing. Her voice, and her desire to express herself in music, has been a constant: from the early days of playing in bands while growing up in a small town, to playing arena rock shows and stadiums. Across these years and on many travels, she s discovered the human voice to be an unlikely guide, with the power to elevate and move people closer to authentic living. This book is about that discovery: part study in the art of singing, part guide to finding one s voice, and part memoir. This book is a must-have for anyone who knows they sh

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Publié par	Ecw Press
Date de parution	28 septembre 2021
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781773057828
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0450€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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The Healing Power of Singing Raise Your Voice, Change Your Life (What Touring with David Bowie, Single Parenting and Ditching the Music Business Taught Me in 25 Easy Steps)
Emm Gryner

Contents Praise for The Healing Power of Singing Dedication Part 1: Getting Started Chapter 1: The Beginning Chapter 2: Rediscover Your Breath Chapter 3: See It All Happening Chapter 4: Get a Vocal Coach Chapter 5: Be Prepared Chapter 6: The Warm-up Part 2: Living as a Singer Chapter 7: Get Out There Chapter 8: Why the Heck? Chapter 9: If You Say Run, I’ll Run with You Chapter 10: Vocal Health Chapter 11: Hello You, Meet You Part 3: Working It and Making It Work Chapter 12: Sound and Body Chapter 13: Letting Go Chapter 14: Failure Is Golden Chapter 15: Making It a Business Chapter 16: Surround Yourself with Stars Chapter 17: The Balancing Act Part 4: The Home Stretch Chapter 18: Singing through Darkness Chapter 19: Developing a Solid Tone Chapter 20: Returning to Your True Self Chapter 21: Healthy, Healthy, Healthy Chapter 22: Last Word The 25 Secrets of Singing Acknowledgements Recommended Reading About the Author Copyright

Praise for The Healing Power of Singing
“The path to musical virtuosity and celebrity can be a rocky road to the church of ‘ME.’ Emm Gryner could easily have lost herself down that track. She is hugely talented, creative, charismatic, and driven. She is everything that a ‘star’ should be. But she is also a natural teacher, sharer, giver. Giving and sharing what she has learned and experienced have proven far more rewarding to Emm than stardom. That’s why this book is important. It is an honest, funny, candid, and enriching life lesson about what really matters: the joy that lies in finding and using your hidden talents to enhance your life. Emm Gryner is an inspiration: read the book and be inspired.”
— Neville Farmer, author of XTC: Song Stories: The Exclusive Authorized Story Behind the Music
“Emm Gryner invites the reader to reflect on the power of voice and the role it can play as one navigates life. With a focus on women. Gryner provides 25 points of wisdom within the framework of voice as one journeys toward a healthier lifestyle. Within this framework, Gryner narrates her life with insights to vulnerabilities experienced, opportunities and challenges embraced, and reflections on lessons learned. Her honesty, laced with humour and threaded with support from various experts, allows for the reader to imagine the possibilities we have with our voice — including to sing. The reader will find this retrospective and the offerings a most welcoming and refreshing read.”
— Betty Anne Younker, Dean, Professor of Music Education, Don Wright Faculty of Music, Western University
“In The Healing Power of Singing , Emm Gryner has used her stunning voice as a writer to help the rest of us find ours. The honesty and artistry with which she shares her journey here will light the way forward for so many others in the sometimes surprising ways we can be ‘Heroes,’ just like David Bowie said.”
— David Wild, Contributing Editor, Rolling Stone

Dedication
To Liese

Part 1 Getting Started

Chapter 1 The Beginning
June 25, 2000
Worthy Farm, Pilton, Somerset, Glastonbury, UK
Steam rose from the mosh pit. Ecstatic faces, about a hundred thousand of them, fixed their gazes upon us as we walked onstage. A roaring wave of cheers rose to meet us, and I took my place in front of my mic. There were people as far as my eyes could see — and all together they looked like tiny flowers on a mammoth sheet of wallpaper. As I imagined filling this huge field with my voice, he emerged, slowly and full of great intention, to a second wave of cheers which engulfed the night sky. Dressed in a shimmering long blazer, his hair blond and tousled, his expression was both serious and bursting quietly with anticipation. The cheer that swept over all of us was deafening, a sound like nothing I’d ever heard. Human voices, maxed out and melted together, infused with love, euphoria, and, since they’d all been waiting for him for hours, great relief. The crowd noise blasted past my in-ear monitors. He stood front and centre and the rest of us, his backing band, inhaled. We shot looks of cockiness out to the audience — the way bands do when they are about to put on some kind of unforgettable spectacle of musical heroism. But there were smiles, too, and underneath it all, giddy disbelief. How did we end up here? I knew deep down that being on that stage, so high in the sky, in an idyllic corner of Britain at the turn of the millennium, was the stuff of rock ’n’ roll majesty. We were on top of the world. And we were onstage with the man who had changed that world: David Bowie.
This book is about how I got to places like Glastonbury, but it also has clear tips on how to sing and what changes you need to make to your life to support your best voice. Through stories, diagrams, and action items that really worked for me, I tell you about my path as a singer in hopes that it sparks a few or many bright lights of inspiration for you.
People ask me all the time, “Can anyone sing?” My answer is yes. But then I follow it up with more good news: You don’t need to learn to become a singer as much as you need to uncover your inner singer.
Most of the tools you need to make everything happen aren’t hard to find. They are already in you. But the world insists on making things confusing. When it comes to learning the basics of singing, a mountain of advice is out there in videos, books, exercises, and so on. How on earth are you supposed to know what’s right and what’s wrong for you? How do you know what method is best? You may wonder, How long will it take? Is it even worth doing? Can I make a career out of singing? Where’s my confidence? Why does my dog act unusual when I sing? Beneath the constant self-doubt we feel as a new singer, there’s the stuff we tell ourselves — that this is singing , not aviation engineering or biomedical research — and thereby, right out of the gate, downgrade our dream. We become experts at coming up with every excuse on the planet as to why singing is not as important as our so-called grown-up responsibilities. Yet deep inside we know there is a voice aching to get out. That feeling has led you to pick up this book.
Let me tell you: you can do this.
Born Terrible
I was born a terrible singer.
I grew up in the Ontario countryside where I mastered the art of cleaning chicken poop off eggs and shimmying around house corners with a Nerf gun raised high, pretending to be Heather Locklear in the cop show T.J. Hooker . A lot of time was spent at the beach nearby, where I made poorly designed forts out of garbage bags and twigs — forts that made the Three Little Pigs’ straw hut look like a doomsday bunker. My parents ran a newspaper out of our basement called Feather Fancier , a monthly publication devoted to the improvement of chickens. Whoever knew that chickens needed improving? My parents’ business fed my two brothers and me and paid the family bills for 20 years. Poultry shows and long chats between my parents and other chicken enthusiasts were normal occurrences in my childhood. Never once did I question such commonly heard phrases as “sexing waterfowl” or “best cock in show.”
I never sang when I was a kid. I knew nothing of pageant stages or reality-show singing contests, nor did I collect any trophies for singing at the local music festival. I was painfully shy, almost mute. At church, purely out of obligation, I grunted through hymns, ramping up the volume only a couple of decibels towards the end of the service, knowing that a bonanza of sugary treats awaited me at the variety store. Ask, and a box of Gobstoppers shall be given you; seek that pouch of Fun Dip, and ye shall find: Gryner 7:7.
Even though I didn’t sing, our household was musical. My brothers and I were put into music lessons by our parents. I studied piano with an elderly lady named Miss Fawcett, and my lessons with her were excruciating. Every Monday after school, I’d trudge over to her tiny white house and push myself through a squeaky screen door, school bags in tow. Miss Fawcett would have homemade soup on the stove and the CBC playing on her fridge-top radio, and she’d leave both on a little too long as if to say, “Before you got here I was having the complete, most bitchin’ time of my life.”
Miss Fawcett’s piano was pristine. When I sat down to play it, I wouldn’t be 30 seconds into a sonata by some dead Italian and she’d be poking me really hard in the shoulder, telling me to “shove over” so she could show me how it was really done. “I’ve lived a full life!” Miss Fawcett would declare, masterfully arpeggiating up and down the keys as I sobbed quietly. “If you never practise, you’ll never get anywhere!” I’m not sure to whom she was yelling this stuff, me or herself. Piano lessons became less of a run-through of my work and more of an exercise in positioning myself on the bench to cleverly hide my tears. Nine times out of ten, I’d leave her house feeling worthless. I’d climb into our family’s talking Chrysler New Yorker, which told you in a 1984 robot voice if you’d left your “door ajar,” and my dad, drinking beer wrapped in a brown bag, would zip me home to chicken world. These lessons lasted for eight long years.
In grade two, I overheard some girls in my class listening to “Physical” by Olivia Newton-John, and my ears couldn’t help but perk up. Having been raised in the sticks, consumed by chicke