Yesterday I headed back from Scotland and got back to London. Winter and the constant rain just seems to add to the depression of this place. Even on the North East coast of Scotland there were days a good few days over the last two weeks when the sun didn't come out at all. Heavy clouds in the sky made it very dreary. Not to mention the gale force winds we've had. This could be why on the last few days of my visit I caught a cold come flu like virus. Probably handed to me from Sparkling who in turn had caught it from Princess J or Rock Chick. Runny nose, sore throat, coughing, up and down temperature, constant sneezing and my voice has dropped an octave. Like being woken up from a deep sleep, startled and wondering who the hell is waking you up. Usually some drunkard on the phone who loves you or wants you to join the party they are having for one at 4 a.m., possible 5 a.m. of course all depending when you hit the hay yourself. Well, this is the kind of low pitched croaky voice I've been inflicted with at the moment. It even pains to speak suggesting a spot of laryngitis to add in this as well. I popped into the Fish Factory to do a couple of hours of work sniffed myself through 50 disposable handkerchiefs and then ran out with the runny nose in tow.
There is an advantage to having a gravel like voice and throat. Especially when it comes to singing. Those low notes are much easier to drop down to, in fact it is like my voice is a complete octave lower, possibly more. It's hard to say, but it definitely is lower. So I got Harvey out to give him a little strum as usual, even in a sneezing delirium he still sounds great and banged out a rendition of Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire. Damn, it sounded so good I thought I was sitting in the room and the real Johnny Cash had taken over my body and was singing through my throat. The pain of 200 cigarettes a day and depression of Flotsam Prison and the law came through. The song might of been about the passion of dangerous head-over-heals love, but it also had the associated deep sorrowful tones of Cash's own experiences. Damn it was good, I wish I'd recorded it but don't have the facilities. Another day maybe. Which got me to thinking, if it is possible to sing this low while sick (let me add physically sick) then surely it must be possible to reach those same low notes when healthy, sobre, kicked the drug habit and out of prison. I'll give it a go and try with a bit more effort to see if the performance can be repeated it when healthier than now.
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