uring February Album Writing Month, you’ll hear lots of ukulele songs. A couple years ago, it seemed everyone had one.
Everyone but me.
So rather than whining, I wrote a song. A song in which I whine about wishing I had a ukulele. If it’s witty, it’s not really whining. That’s my rule, anyway.
Spending a little time with mandolin, piano, drums, guitar, and my musical anchor, the bass, I make ’em all feel special, even though they’re not, in fact, a ukulele.
Sometimes when I’m recording a demo, the ending happens spontaneously, without thinking. I don’t remember which instrument I recorded first, but I snapped out the two-break ending, then matched it perfectly with each instrument. I’m particularly happy with this finale.
I still don’t have a ukulele, but Fiona lets me play hers whenever I want.