I often pose Guess the Band pictures for my grade 5 students. It's both fun and depressing. Fun to see them try to figure out the band. Depressing to note they know nothing of music. "Rolling Stones? Eric Clapton? Stawberry Alarm Clock?..."

I present to you: Guess the Church Musician. Figure out the writer of sacred, and not so sacred (hint), music that you might hear at Mass.

1)

2)

3)

4)

"I'll be..."

5)

6)

7)

8)

9)

10)

Bonus:

Answers:

1) Palestrina (polyphony)
2) Franz Gruber (Silent Night)
3) Dan Schutte (City of God)... Actor's name is "Daniel" who threatens to "shoot" in Sound of Music.
4) Johann Sebastien Bach (Jesu Joy of Man's Desiring)
5) Bob Dufford (Be Not Afraaaaaid)
6) Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Requiem)
7) Georg Friedrich Handel (Messiah)
8) Carey Landry (The Spirit is a Moving)
9) John Henry Newman (Firmly I Believe and Truly)
10) Ludwig van Beethoven (Ode to Joy tune)

Bonus: John Foley (One Bread, One Body)

One (last) Blessed Night

I sit at work now, trying to get set up for the next month of school before more report cards go home. Heck, I'm actually just trying to get my morning figured out. Christmas break went by quickly. Probably because it was a shorter break than usual... I was warned by a parent at hockey last night that she was "so ready" to send her kids back to school. Gulp.

But allow me one last taste of Christmas. I love watching (everybody loves) Raymond Arroyo's World Over Christmas Special each year. This year was great, as usual. At one point he featured a song called One Blessed Night. Emilie, who was watching it with us cause she didn't want to go to sleep at a decent hour, absolutely loved it. She was waving her arms wildly throughout. Why? Well, check out the conductor and you'll understand why. Seriously, conductor-style work outs could be a thing. Anyway, the songs starts at around 2:45.

Now, back to work. What were we doing in Math again?...

O Magnum Mysterium

Ola Gjeilo's O Magnum Mysterium

Latin text

O magnum mysterium,

et admirabile sacramentum,

ut animalia viderent Dominum natum,

jacentem in praesepio!

Beata Virgo, cujus viscera

meruerunt portare

Dominum Christum.

Alleluia.

English translation

O great mystery,

and wonderful sacrament,

that animals should see the new-born Lord,

lying in a manger!

Blessed is the Virgin whose womb

was worthy to bear

Christ the Lord.

Alleluia!

Fam Jam

I'm so happy that my kids love music. It's like.. almost heaven...

Anniversary Mass Singing

We've been on the road, or have had guests visit, for most of the summer now. One of the items we were fortunate to join in on was my brother Darryl's 10th anniversary celebration to the priesthood. The Millette choir (my brother, two sisters and me.. and joined by my niece Claire on this day!) joined forces with a mom from the Latin Mass who plays organ. We put together a quick couple of practices just an hour or two before the Mass. Needless to say, our guardian angels sure came through for us.

Now this video will never do justice to what it was actually like. The organ actually shook the church on the final song. It was, I think, my favourite moment ever from singing in the choir. I paid a price though. I threw out my voice somewhat. I've been stuck with a bad sore throat ever since!

Give a listen to some of the hymns and such. Some highlights are at:

27:04 Let All Mortal Flesh
46:30 Love Divine All Love Excelling
49:01 Non Nobis Domine
50:35 Dextera Domine
52:09 Ave Maris Stella (shortened)
57:35 O God Beyond All Praising

Yes there is an important juxtaposition here. That is sacred music being played within a post-modern structure. The church my brother is stationed at is Holy Spirit parish in Saskatoon. What could go wrong with a church built in 1966 titled Holy Spirit? They were tough times, and this church bears testament to that.. However, where there is no beauty, put beauty there, and then there will be beauty.

I would love to have some of our hymns recorded properly. However, as Becca so tactfully encouraged me once this was over: "You know, you should think about getting singing lessons..."

What I actually heard:

C'est la vie.

Jam Session

We had some distinguished guests visit our humble home earlier this week. John Paul Meenan and Joseph Platt stopped by. Meenan was a professor and director of OLSWA when I went there. Platt and I went to school there at the same time.Well Becca and I were putting a couple of things away upstairs when we heard some music coming from the basement. Lo and behold the boys, Platt, and my brother Stephen were having a little jam session.

Getting Organized

 For a long long time I've dreamed of owning something like this...

This, of course, is a Hammond SK 1-73. The Hammond name is legendary in the organ world.

I love playing the organ. I used to love stopping by the church on my way to work every morning in Nipawin and playing their lovely organ. I really looked forward to that part of my day. I always wanted to be able to do that in my own house. Also, there have been times, such as when my grandpa died and my siblings and I were the choir, when we really could have used a portable organ. But alas, we've had this:

This organ was generously donated to us by an older Catholic couple from Weyburn, SK. It's a 1976 Lowrey model. However, the past year or so it has really started showing its age. Buttons weren't working. Pedals were touch and go. Sometime notes played, other times no. Even the on/off switch didn't work anymore. Well, with all this considered, and with the help of a generous Christmas gift from my parents, everything combined meant we were able to order the Hammond SK 1!

Now we liked the look of our organ in our living room. It just wouldn't be the same to plop in some run of the mill organ stand and modern looking portable organ. So I decided to gut the old Lowrey.

Here are just a few of the many pieces I took out (including a Leslie tremolo... that circle piece). All in all I removed probably 200 lbs of organ guts. Much of the wires look rough for wear.

Unfortunately my new Hammond didn't quite fit our old organ structure. So I took a chisel and some laminated pine and improvised. I stuffed my speakers on the inside of the organ case, and left the top part open so that we can add books. And just like that, I have a beautiful organ to play!

Long term I want to add various pedals, and a nice amp to this set up. But long long term I want my kids to learn music, especially sacred music, and maybe, just maybe, form the Millette Choir 2.0.

Music Monday: The Pirate Song

The terrible twos are over! John Paul has turned three! He came out of his room just after 6am beaming from ear to ear. What a guy.

Lately John Paul has been very involved when I play guitar or organ. He jumps around, plays along with his ukulele, and sings loudly. He's slowly beginning to hold a tune too. There is no replacing the enthusiasm of a little voice. One song he loves to sing is The Pirate Song.

I wrote The Pirate Song years ago. I seem to remember my little sister Lynda, when she was five years old, wanted me to write a song, and this is what came out. Well she just turned twenty, but the song still remains. Here's an original recording done many years ago. It's recorded in one of our rooms, with an old guitar, a key that is too high for my poor voice, and a few added instruments for good measure. In honour of John Paul and one of his favourite songs to sing, here is The Pirate Song:

He'll be working for SaskPower in no time.

Music Mondays: The Story of Craven Arrest

Today is a great treat for you. The music is so good you'll be hitting repeat all day. I bring you the music of Craven Arrest, a band so legendary that no one even feels the need to talk about them. That's just how legendary they are.

So the story goes that someone I don't even know was mistakenly arrested for crowd surfing at the then Craven Valley rock concert at Craven Valley, SK. I'm told the band playing at the time was my favourite, Collective Soul. Anyway, this dude was arrested, but released, and therefore the name of a band was born. I mean, you can't make this stuff up.

The band began late in the year of 2003 at a rental house near the University of Saskatchewan. Musical chemistry was almost instant. A guy. A brother. A cousin. A couple of other guys. Practices were a mix between discussing cool things to say on stage, writing songs while trying to look super cool, and occasionally even playing some music. Some band members were even known to go to the gym and do certain back exercises in order execute the perfect bow. Creativity was never an issue for Craven Arrest. Young minds. So many ideas. So many dreams. It's been said that one person could play a single note, and everyone else in the band would know exactly what song to join in on. What a golden age for music.

The band practiced and got better. In fact, they got pretty good. As I said, there was chemistry. One night they played, as part of a battle of the bands competition, at the famous Louie's Pub on the U of S campus. The pub had hundreds of people in attendance. The band sat in a back room in anticipation of the upcoming moment. Other musicians, evidently, had also once waited in this same room. There were pictures and autographs from such musicians as Neil Young, the Dave Matthews Band, and Finger Eleven. On stage they finally went. Overcoming some technical difficulties, Craven Arrest put on a performance for the ages. These boys, the ones who practiced so hard and worked so well together, finally became rock stars! Never has Louie's Pub seen such a performance. Sadly, never will Louie's Pub ever again see such a performance.

The story goes that the next morning the drummer went to the an early Mass in Latin. Apparently the choir began singing Adoro Te Devote. But the drummer couldn't hear the beautiful hymn of St. Thomas Aquinas! There was an incessant ringing in his ears from the concert the night before. At that moment, as if God Himself spoke directly to him, the drummer realized he would not be able to be both a rock star and devote himself to God and the Church as he so wished to. The drummer quit the band.

Craven Arrest more or less fizzled out, though not entirely. They got back together a few months later and, despite a great financial cost, had four songs professionally recorded. The songs recorded will forever cement Craven Arrest's legacy to music. The songs themselves picked up some local air time on CJNE 94.7 Storm FM radio. But there was no need to push it further. The story of Craven Arrest was to be one of hope, glory, and ultimately letting go. The boys in the band are doing well. They've acquired real jobs, and have growing families. Their story lives on through their music. Their story will be passed on to their children. Craven Arrest will, in a way, always be.

As for that drummer who quit the band? He's doing well. He has a wonderful wife and three beautiful children. He still has his drum kit, though he plays mainly guitar, piano, and organ these days. He loves to perform for children at the school he teaches at. And yes, he still loves the Church, and the Latin Mass.

Here is Faceless:

Even Poets Need Grace Too

Don't tell me what the poets are doing
Those Himalayas of the mind
Don't tell me what the poet's been doing
In the long grasses over time

 
An emotional love fest on CBC. The Tragically Hip played most likely their last concert on Saturday night in their home town of Kingston, Ontario. The CBC broadcast it live, and also set up several viewing areas (i.e. parties) across the country. The concert was hyped like no other, especially during their Olympic coverage. Why not? When an average audience of 3 million Canadians are tuning in, you may as well take advantage of it. And thus the concert. A great moment for Canada. Right?

Hip front man Gord Downie of course has terminal brain cancer. Downie is a Canadian rock music icon. Who doesn't love Bobcaygeon, Gift Shop, Nautical Disaster, and of course, Poets? Yet Downie has a persona that transcends his music. I remember watching him team up with Dallas Green of City and Colour during the 2009 Juno awards. Downie just stood there and sang his part of the song. He didn't move. He didn't show much emotion. He just stared ahead with steely eyes... and stole the show. His mere presence, teamed with his trademark voice, was beyond impressive. I had to give him great respect for that.


A 52 year old rocker with brain cancer, quite frankly, can no longer perform well. What I saw of Saturday's concert was evidence of that. The body, and voice, were done. The harder he tried, the less his body responded. Yet Downie performed for a national audience, nonetheless. That showed, pardon the pun, courage. Again, I have to give him great respect for that. Yet not all courage comes at a good time. The concert was not all about the music. 30 minutes before the show the CBC started showing Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, Tragically Hip T-shirt and all, walking to the concert amid throngs of enthusiastic admirers. During the concert Downie spoke up in typical celebrity-liberal fashion, calling on action for social change, especially indigenous people. I'm sure the irony of the poet, Downie, telling us what we should be doing was not lost on him. Then he spoke on how Trudeau was the man for the job. CBC glowed. CBC ran with the story. CBC tied the story in with the Olympics. Everything it means to be Canadian, in the eyes of the CBC, was present. It was a great day for the CBC. For Canada. Courage. Olympics. Trudeau. Emotion. The Hip. Liberalism.


There is an untold tale, however. A sad and tragically unhip story. That is, a man is dying of cancer. Despite a courageous, though liberal, defiance, this man truly is entering a period of desolation. We all die. Despite the best attempts at managing life by the CBC, Trudeau, Olympiad, and even Gord Downie, the reality of death cannot be avoided. Our best face cannot substitute for facing our own mortality. Many have glowed at how Downie has stared straight ahead at death with his steely eyes, as though death were just the next ballad to sing. But death will not succumb to our own melody. It cannot be conquered, except through the One alone who conquered it.

Going back to the Olympics, if there's one thing we've learned as Catholics it's that even celebrities need our prayers. Not everything is awesome. I speak of Michael Phelps, the man who has more gold medals than most nations, yet contemplated suicide. Until he met Christ. Olympic bravado cannot last. A gold medal is but a small consolation when coinciding with the Christ-less life. A final concert is but a small defiance when facing one's final phase of life. Even Gord Downie needs our prayers.

During the concert Downie sang Grace Too. A deliberately emotional song which, perhaps in a deliberately dramatic fashion ended up in tears for Downie. Scroll down this page if you wish to see it. It was not some awesome moment, as many are describing it. A national audience will not be with Downie on his death bed. Nor Trudeau, nor the CBC. Just him alone meeting our Lord. As will happen with all of us. Irony again: we need grace too. The grace of final persevering. And so as we say goodbye to the band The Tragically Hip, and Downie moves to a new stage in his life. we pray for him, and all those preparing for death. It is never too late while we still breath. There is no tragically lived life Christ cannot overcome.

One last irony, or rather paradox I should say: for Christians, death is life.

Album Review - Wilder Mind

Early last month Mumford and Sons (M&S) released their third studio album titled: "Wilder Mind." Now M&S is well known for their banjo picking folk rocks songs. Their hits include the well over-played I Will Wait. For this recent album they ditched the banjo, double bass, and acoustic guitar. In other words, they become more main stream.

Let's just start with a basic fact, "Wilder Mind" is their worst album to date. This shouldn't be too big of a surprise considering that their first two were excellent, and it would be hard to replicate the prior success. Yet I can see myself skipping over a few songs. The Wolf, Wilder Mind, and even Ditmas are all forgettable. Monster has promise, but let's just call it their bad word song. Every album of theirs has a song with a certain bad word, and this time it is Monster. So scratch it off. Nevertheless, despite the filler songs, we are left with some good music.

"Wilder Mind" has an urban feel to it. The good old boys from the country are smack dab in the heart of the city. Songs such as Tompkin Square Park and Broad Shouldered Beast place us in the heart and excitement of the city, filled with all its pleasures and promises. Yet though surrounded by people, this album is one of loneliness. Almost to the point of being a break up album. In Only Love Mumford cries out: "And you saw me low, alone again. Didn't they say that only love will win in the end?" Lonely. Alone. Not much hope. This isn't a revolutionary concept. Been there, done that. They treat the concept well. But it's nothing revolutionary.

All in all, I actually don't mind their new sound. The problem is that though they provide some good music, it sounds too similar to other bands. Broad Shouldered Beast has a rise and fall pace similar to Collective Soul's Understanding. Only Love builds ala Coldplay's Fix You. Coldplay gets ripped off again with Hot Gates, which is the exact tune as Up in Flames. Even Joseph, when he first heard the song, exclaimed: "Hey! I know that song!" Nope. Just a copycat. Look, it's hard to be creative. It's not always possible. The problem is Mumford and Sons went from a creative band to a copycat band in this album. And the fact is that Collective Soul and Coldplay are better at what they do anyway.

There is enough raw talent in Mumford and Sons to pull off such a switch. They still produced some good to great music. Nevertheless, what I really mourn is the loss of poetry. Remember lines such as this?

Love; it will not betray you
Dismay or enslave you, it will set you free
Be more like the man you were made to be

 

Now we are left with:

I don't even know if I believe
I don't even know if I believe
I don't even know if I believe
Everything you're trying to say to me

 

I don't even know if I believe... that they are now a pop band. It's still hard to believe. Bring back the banjo!

Overall: a generous 3/5 Stars



I don't even know if I believe
I don't even know if I believe
I don't even know if I wanna believe
Everything you're trying to say to me
 

Music to my Ears

Our house has been filled with music of late. I commented to my dear husband the other night that he's extremely talented with his ability to pick up any instrument and play it. His response, "I'm a jack of all trades, but master of none," implied he'd much rather be really, really good at one. Yet, he can sit down at piano, drums, guitar, organ, electrical guitar, harmonica, accordion, and saxophone (that I know of) and make music. I, meanwhile, am a jack of one trade musically and master of none. 

Joseph's self-invented drum set

Almost nightly, my boys have their jam session in the living room, with many instruments and vocals involved. Lacking a bass guitarist, Dan has taken up playing the organ pedals for his accompaniment with guitar. The organ even has a couple settings for synthetic drum beats that he makes use of. That means Dan is playing at least guitar, bass, drums, and vocals all at once.

Joseph's 'microphone'

 Joseph, meanwhile, has become our lead vocalist with his new mic. While at the funeral luncheon for our dear friend Mrs Hickey two weeks ago, Joseph saw her great-granddaughter 3 year-old Maria sing her 'ABCDs' on the mic. He later took it into his head that Daddy's guitar stand would be the perfect mic. So when Daddy plays music, Joseph brings me the guitar stand to lower to his height so he can sing in his own mic.

For a few weeks now, Joseph has also been trying and trying to learn harmonica. After much work, he mastered the art of blowing into a recorder in the Summer, but harmonica seemed to be giving him a greater challenge. To compensate, he would make his own humming noise with the harmonica at his lips, but it just wasn't cutting it for him.

This morning Joseph was adamant he needed to bring the harmonicas and their case into the bathroom as I was dressing him. He was delighted, thrilled when I let him putter around with one as I changed his diaper. But when a real little squeak came out of the harmonica for the first time, he was over the top. "Oooo," he gave me huge, shocked eyes. Again and again he tried, each time getting a little more noise and a bigger and bigger "Oooo". I ran to grab the camera only to realize that Dan took it to school today. These cell phone photos will have to do.

We still have yet to pick up Dan's drum set from Nipawin. I'm a little reluctant to welcome drums into my house, but I know my dear mother-in-law has put up with it for many years now and is dying for us to take it off her hands. So soon our house may resemble something like this, too:

From the Summertime: Like Father, Like Son