Chasing a musical dream:

Swansong on a flat note!

Gaston de Rosayro

People have always made fun of my singing. That's nothing new because I have been advised about my woeful talents as a vocalist since I was six-years-old. My first singing teacher at kindergarten, bless her musical soul, was a religious sister. She told me ever so politely, that my singing was 'unearthly'. I took that as a compliment and so did my mother.

My mother naturally assumed that what the singing nun meant was that my vocalizing was 'out of this world'. The entire family presumed that I would be picked as the leading star for the kindergarten concert. The casting had already been completed and all my playmates were duly assigned singing roles as shepherds, lambs and angels.

How some of the more delinquent roughnecks fitted into the character of angels was beyond my comprehension.

The following week during rehearsals the nun with equal politeness but with more directness said: "You have a fine voice. Don't spoil it by singing. I have decided to fit you in as the narrator." Clearly, I had been cast in the starring role because she thought I couldn't sing.

But primary school was quite a different kettle of fish where the cantankerous choirmaster with unceremonious bluntness proclaimed: "You're completely off key. And you can't carry a music note even in a bucket!" My knowledge of notes at the time was confined to currency. As for the bucket part, I hoped then that it was about time the old, fossilized fool should kick one for good.

When I complained to my father about the old geezer's rude appraisal of my singing abilities he didn't seem too surprised. "Don't worry about it," he consoled, "that was the same advice given to Bing Crosby by his first music teacher." Naturally, I was heartbroken.

At that tender age there was nothing which so fired my imagination as the prospect of showing off my vocal endowments before a packed audience, or any audience for that matter.

But I never despaired and never ceased to chase my childhood dream. Well, the persistence paid off. I finally realized my ambition. I was actually invited to sing with some of the country's leading show bands. Believe me, I have sung with the Jets, the Spits, the Moons, the Gyps and the G'Lords to name a few of the famous local ensembles.

But to be perfectly honest, I must mention that the bandleaders were my close buddies. Again I must elaborate that their nepotism was on rather a limited scale.

I was only invited to join in during the refrain when the whole caboodle got into the act in full-throated unison. Okay, okay, so I admit the catchword is 'refrain' because my vocal performance was confined solely to the chorus.

Many of my detractors claim that the only reason I was called in to join the song and dance routine was because I was the master-of-ceremonies.

I tried to persuade my good friend Annesley, a singing superstar in his own right, whether he would consider doing a duet with me. He laughed and said a song sung by the two of us at the same time could hardly be called a duet. It would be more of a duel!

Well let me tell you for the last time, if I'm going to sing like everyone else, then I don't need to sing at all. Today with the wonders of new-fangled audio digital technology I am determined to be a singing supernova. Regardless of whether I am off key my singing will be a hit, even if it happens to be a swan song on a flat note.