We Can’t Disregard Music at the Time We Need It Most
Kaya Purchase / Dec 8 / Culture
“Almost everyone associates a memory with a song,” says Oisin Hassan. There’s no disputing this. Almost all of us have a stockpile of memories, stored away in a secluded nook of our brain. Play the right song and any number of these memories will spring up, coated in cobwebs and dust, but clearly defined, nevertheless and ready to reduce us to tears or laughter, as they see fit. I wonder, in years to come, what particular song will tease out memories of 2020? O Fortuna seems to be fitting for the level of disaster or maybe the Jaws theme tune will conjure up memories of Boris Johnson’s odious (and confusing) speeches.
The fact is that music is an intensely personal and emotional medium of connection, solace and catharsis. It was Maya Angelou who said ‘music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.’ For those who don’t understand this, in a deep, visceral way, I can only assume they’ve never needed a refuge. They believe music to be a luxury or just a soundtrack to a sweaty night of hedonism. Those who believe this have fundamentally misjudged what music actually is.
When Rishi Sunak advised (in so many words) that musicians should look for another job there was, understandably, an explosive reaction. Tim Burgess of the Charlatans wrote in the Guardian that, “musicians and actors have been working other jobs for years – as baristas, chefs, roadies, graphic designers or bartenders.” To follow a musical passion is a volatile, unpredictable source of income at the best of times because our economic system does not encourage people to follow artistic aspirations, or support them when they do. If you choose to follow a creative path, you’re pretty much on your own and any support you do get more often than not comes from independent grants or initiatives. It’s no surprise then that the Conservatives have tried to portray the arts as disposable. After all, things created outside of the institutional canon of intellectual patriarchy have not historically gained much respect from government. To quote Tim Burgess again, ‘the worry is that the next generation of performers will come only from certain sections of society.’ But when the world is in a crisis, or recovering from such, music is a necessity, not a luxury. Listeners need it for inspiration and comfort. Musicians need something through which to vent their frustration and grief. The world needs an art form that will reflect those areas of society that the news won’t represent authentically. And those providing this art form deserve respect.
One musician who has been personally affected by the implications of Covid on the music industry is singer/songwriter Oisin Hassan. Oisin is from Liverpool. He has a voice that is the perfect balance between honey and gravel: soft and mellifluous one moment and husky the next. It is exactly this flexibility that makes him able to breathe new life into old consoling classics by the likes of such icons as Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen and Cat Stevens: just what is needed in these times of disconnect, isolation and anxiety.
As a child, Oisin was entranced by the music of blues legends Muddy Waters, Percy Sledge and Ben E King. “There was something planted from the moment I heard them.”
He learnt how to play the keyboard in school, but it was when he picked up the acoustic guitar that he decided he wanted to sing and write his own material. “That’s when I got a hunger for wanting to write and play to people.”
“Music has taught me a lot of things,” he says. “From a young age, it wasn’t really my thing to get up and sing in front of people but that changed when I started gigging and doing open mic nights. It would really give me a buzz when someone would come up after and tell me that they liked my song or my version of something I play. It makes spending a lot of time learning songs and writing them worth it.”
Before the pandemic Oisin was gigging in over ten bars and pubs, performing live three times per week, on average. The first lock-down undoubtedly took its toll, but he stayed optimistic, recording songs from his living-room and uploading them onto Youtube. When the first lockdown ended he was hesitant about performing live again because of the risks but, needing the money, he secured some new gigs. However, by the second lock-down, many venues had already closed their doors and Facebook had tightened restrictions, forbidding live streams. These had been a useful safety net to many musicians, allowing anyone to stream a live performance from their living room and ask for donations from those who tuned in. Any plans Oisin may have had to do that himself, however, now aren’t possible. It’s not a unique story. Musicians all over the country are facing similar setbacks. Of course, the fact is people all over the country, those from every sort of occupation, are struggling. Protecting people from infection is the utmost priority, but governments also need to ensure they offer financial support to those who can’t work, and this includes musicians. With MPs illegitimising the importance of music, the real question to ask is: what would the future look like without it?
“It’s a very depressing thought,” says Oisin. “We can’t be gigging through online platforms forever. It’s just not the same as playing in front of people and there’s a certain magic about going to see a band or musician play that just can’t be done through a screen. It would be ok if we were supported enough by the government, because we’d be prepared for after (the pandemic), but that’s not the case right now.”
“Music can offer us a lot of things, that nothing else can, I think. Our words and stories can impact peoples’ lives and our future. Everybody has a story to tell. Some of our greatest songs and storytellers will always be listened to. I guess the aim is to write something that will stand the test of time and still be relevant in years to come.
I feel like some music is timeless. It’s important because it gives people a different way of expressing their troubles or struggles. I’m a person who is better at putting something I am trying to say into a song rather than saying it sometimes.”
So what have musicians like Oisin had to do to adapt to the changes of the last few months?
“It’s been hard really. I’m thinking about doing live streams on my YouTube Channel and I’m currently working on some home-made CDs for a few people. I record stuff at home and put together acoustic EPs of some of the covers I like playing. I definitely want to write and record more. I’m always writing little pieces, but it’s just the good ones that really make it. I tend to not finish something if I don’t feel something from the start.
I’ve got a lot of older ideas that I haven’t listened to for quite a while so I’d like to re-work some of them.”
And how is Oisin himself staying optimistic?
“It’s a weird time at the minute with not being able to put gigs on, but hopefully after this people will be missing live music more. I personally think we will be back stronger at some point, but who knows. I do know that the people I have met through music are some of the most determined people I have ever met. We are constantly getting told no and facing a struggle to be heard by a larger audience. I believe this will make us even stronger.”