Change Your Tune
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Frederic Leighton, “The Music Lesson,” 1877. Source: WikiArt (public domain)
Good Mood

Change Your Tune

A Few Pointers for Would Be Singers
Everything’s Gonna Be Alright
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Smile

When you’re singing, try to smile. This gives a sign to those around you that, despite the sounds you’re emitting, you feel good and your intentions are not hostile.

Vocal Exploits

Contrary to appearances, pretending to be a coloratura soprano or a thundering bass is actually the right strategy for people not blessed with talent. The unfortunate experience of hearing such singing will be balanced out by the comic effect, and may also serve an educational purpose.

Sing Often

It’s no secret that you can train your vocal cords. The worse it goes at the beginning, the more you should sing. In other words: the weaker your singing, the more often you should do it. Simple, really.

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Listen Rarely

Try to avoid as much as possible situations where you hear your own singing, e.g., on a recording. The shock may be too great, it could lead to a personality crisis.

Reactions to Pain

Try to turn every scream of pain into a vocal exercise. Sooner or later people will stop realizing the difference, and you’ll always be able to explain that actually you weren’t singing, just in pain.

Percussion

While singing, tap rhythmically on things in your surroundings, or on yourself (your thighs, belly, cheeks). The noise you make will drown out your singing, so you can go on for as long as you like.

Drawing by Zbigniew Lengren
Drawing by Zbigniew Lengren

Also read:

Pukke
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Daniel Mróz – drawing from the archives (no. 1443/1972)
Fiction

Pukke

Grzegorz Uzdański

We present below three independent accounts proving the existence in Sweden of a certain imp named Pukke. Since all three stories were contributed by our long-time author Grzegorz Uzdański, we have no reason to suspect that any one of them is less true than the others.

Greta Seelendstadt (Swedish physicist)

When I was a little girl, old Pukke turned me into a table. Pukke is a Swedish imp. Hardly anyone remembers him, and those who remember think he’s a character from a fairy tale. But not in Skåne. The inhabitants of the local villages, sinewy and tanned from the midnight sun, know that he really exists. He walked beneath the grey skies before the days of the kings, before the first wooden churches were built, before the new God drove the old inhabitants further north. He was there when the brutal bearded Vikings returned with the spoils of their expeditions. He was there when the elves sang and the trolls rumbled gutturally in the moonlight. He was there when Odin, the one-eyed wanderer, flashed over the earth like a gale as Fenrir’s howl filled the woods with terror. He was there when Nanna danced under the stars, bringing nature to life.

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