Next year, I will be paid to torture teenagers who want to win Australian Idol.
The tigling’s high school needs tutors who are willing to supplement the instruction given in the school music curriculum. It will only be a few hours a week, but it gets me back in touch with some training I’ve been missing using, and many of these kids, while oozing with talent, lack sound basic technique.
As I said over in comments at Kate’s place, where she just got offered a much more creative job:
I will be making teenage girls cry about how overornamenting their songs with twiddles is just laziness to disguise the lack of a fundamental breath technique, and that I expect them to hit a note cleanly and hold it, thanks. And don’t pop your plosives like that either, young lady.
I know that when they actually perform they will still use too much vibrato and add too many twiddles, because, gawdelpus, such rococo gingerbread icing on the vocal cake is currently commercial. But I’ll teach them how to sing without having to resort to that. They will also know how to articulate so that the lyrics are understood, dammit.
I owe it to Australia.