Rock Chorus performing The Big Gig. Photo (c) Rock Chorus.
Last night was the biggest night of the year for our choir, Rock Chorus: the annual Big Gig, where we raise thousands of pounds for charity in conjunction with The Lions Club.
We work really hard all term refining the words and moves to 22 songs, so that we can perform them to perfection. With 160 singers on stage the sound is uplifting, emotional, and fun. To be part of such a huge group can send shivers up your spine, make you smile or cry within the space of a few minutes.
But I wasn’t on stage last night. I wanted to be there more than anything but I’ve been struggling with a virus since Easter and this week it’s decided to come back as an earache and sore throat. As I sat listening to the set list on Friday and going through the moves doubt was beginning to creep in that I was up for it and by 11 am yesterday I knew there was no chance. After shedding a few tears, I decided to buy a ticket instead and watch. In the five years I’ve been with the choir, I have never sat and listened to the whole sound, so now was my chance to experience it and to support my friends.
The gig set list: songs from the 60s right up to the present day.
I met up with my friend Ann (a former soprano) and we made our way into the stiflingly hot theatre, along with my boys who are seasoned Rock Chorus watchers and know the words to our songs as well as me and a lot of the moves too. The hall rapidly filled up with friends and family and the lights dimmed for the performance. I could feel the nerves of the singers quietly waiting behind the curtain and sent them a silent prayer.
There is no other way to say this: the concert got off to a shaky start. The choir were out of time with the backing track and it took a good 8 bars or so before they came together. Apparently one of the monitors wasn’t on, so the singers at the back of the stage couldn’t hear anything. Although nerves were etched on every face, somehow they got through it.
I think I lived every bar with them. As an orchestral player of nearly 40 years (hey I started young!) I know you need a concert to start with a bang; it gives the performers confidence and engages the audience too. When the opposite happens it rapidly shreds your confidence.
Luckily the next song, Free Fallin’ (by the late, great Tom Petty) is one we have sung many, many times and I watched everyone visibly relax and begin to smile after a few bars as they eased into their groove. “That’s more like it,” I thought and glanced at Ann. She was miming away to the soprano part and I had to try very hard not to laugh out loud.
After that, the songs were performed with increasing verve and enjoyment. My particular favourites were “Who Loves You Pretty Baby?” by Frankie Valli for the amazing harmonies (and because we have finally nailed the moves) and Say Something by A Great Big World because it speaks so movingly of loss.
For the very first time, I sat and appreciated the blend of soprano, alto and tenor and I was really impressed. Not only are the arrangements rich harmonically but they give the singers a challenge too. There are so many amateur choirs these days who sing very simple arrangements and I find them so, so boring to listen too. Not so Rock Chorus!
The first set finished with an atmospheric choral arrangement of Brothers in Arms (Dire Straits) that brought a little tear to my eye.
As I waited in the drinks queue in the interval I was besieged by fellow performers:
“How does it sound?”
“Are we any good?”
“What about the first number?”
I said they sounded great and that I was proud of the way they’d put the first song behind them and upped their game.
“We knew you’d be honest,” they said and went away smiling. I’ll take that as a compliment.
And so to the second half, which began with a rousing rendition of You’re The Voice (John Farnham) quickly followed by Africa (Toto) in which I got to experience the delights of audience participation. The Lions insist we do it but perhaps we should finally be brave and tell them it went out with the ark. We were meant to provide additional percussive sounds but you couldn’t hear them over the sound track and I’m not sure how many audience members joined in: not me, I was filming at the request of friends. My older son joined in with gusto, while the younger one sat scowling as only 11-year-olds can.
Afterwards came that Elvis classic Suspicious Minds. Whereas the original version is rather ponderous, ours is far more upbeat and the audience loved it:
Video reproduced with the kind permission of Joanna Ford
The singing was fabulous throughout the second half, words and moves nailed to perfection. There was just one slight niggle: the bass on the sound system was often too loud. At times I could feel it vibrating under my feet and in those songs it drowned out the tenor section altogether. In You Took The Words Right Out of Your Mouth, you could barely hear them singing the tune even though I knew they were.
Of course we demanded an encore and surprise, surprise Rock Chorus had one ready: Love Train, that 70s classic about free love. We all stood up and did the moves and accidentally whopped the row in front a couple of times; I think they forgave us our enthusiasm!
As we said our goodbyes and I was driving home, I thought about why I’d sat there with a big smile on my face all the way through and it is this: while they may not be perfect (yet) our gigs convey the joy we all feel at performing. It’s there in the concentration, the smiles, the laughter and the huge amount of effort that goes into learning the parts. Music should be fun and Rock Chorus captures this to perfection.
Anecdotes of an Alto 