Clary's Cultural Cwtch #67

This week's cwtch is about music again. It may seem as though I'm a one-trick pony at the minute, but through the music books I've written over the past three years (album-by-album books on Kylie Minogue and Kate Bush, with Tori Amos currently underway) and the work I do with Forget-Me-Not Productions, I constantly bear witness to that magical moment when music stops being something we merely listen to and becomes something we feel compelled to make.

Recently, our eight-year-old son (our ADHD firecracker) discovered Oliver Tree's back catalogue. Almost immediately, one thing led to another. There was the distinctive haircut, the careful study of the style, the writing of lyrics, the creation of music and, finally, after an evening spent battling microphones, mixers, cables and Logic Pro X, the recording of his finished song, 'Wheels Up'.

Watching the process unfold was incredibly inspiring, and seeing him harness his energy and channel it into something creative made me feel as though I had done something right.

It also reminded me of my own musical obsessions and how they fed into my creativity.

I am a child of the eighties and nineties, so my heroes are hardly surprising. Kylie Minogue was my first musical love. She also happened to be the subject of my first published book, Kylie Minogue Album-by-Album: Stick or Twist? Later came the Manic Street Preachers, Nirvana and, eventually, the subject of my third book, Tori Amos.

Each artist has left a unique mark on me. The music represents particular places and particular people, but perhaps most significant are the different versions of myself that I see reflected in each of these artists. They have expanded my world in ways that go far beyond mere entertainment. There has always been a sense of recognition and validation. That is the power of music.

I suspect that this is why it has always occupied such a huge space in the work we do at Forget-Me-Not Productions.

Over the years, I have had the privilege of writing songs alongside many extraordinary people, many of whom have complex physical, communication and learning disabilities. They have used assistive technology to develop and perform their music, and it has been a true pleasure designing the MUSIC-CAN framework and helping to create such a diverse range of work. Some of those songs have been written with Mr X, some with TW and some with groups of people whose voices might not always be heard as loudly as they deserve.

Again and again, I have witnessed the same thing: music as the back door to self-expression.

It builds confidence. It creates connections. Sometimes it reveals things that words alone cannot quite reach.

The pieces I am sharing are all very different, but that is rather the point. Different ages, different lives and different needs. Yet the impulse behind them is the same.

Someone hears something.

Something stirs.

Then, sooner or later, they discover that they have something to say in return.

I think, ultimately, that is how culture survives: one song at a time.

It's cosy in here.

Fancy a cwtch?

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