Time to Reflect

With only a couple more days left in 2011, I find myself reminiscing about how we started out, and what we've been through since we did. This is the time of year for reflection, and I want to share with you the whole This is lizzard story...

When I met Roland, I was blown away by his professionalism and experience. By the time our paths crossed, he'd already toured in theaters with his own formation, worked with some of the greatest artists in the Netherlands, won numerous awards, studied here and abroad under the best of the best. He was made to make music, and has had years of training doing just that. I, on the other hand, am completely self-taught. I've never had a singing lesson, but have developed my own techniques over the years to improve and control my voice. Singing has always been a very personal thing for me, something I kept to myself. It was Roland's belief in me and my voice that coaxed me out of the closet!

Back in the late 90's, at exactly this time of year, Roland and I made music for the very first time together with one very clear goal in mind: we wanted to score a hit. Big time. He had the music, I had the lyrics and the voice - nothing could stop us. We wrote lots of tunes, sent them to all the record labels (and there were way more than just three back then) with no luck. Our music, which was technically spot-on, lacked one essential ingredient: soul.

It took a catastrophe for us to realize what we were doing wrong. 9/11 affected us as it did most people - it forced us to turn inwards and look at who we were, and what we were doing. In order to cope with our emotions, we expressed ourselves with music. Music that came directly from heart and soul. We dropped the facade and 'lizzard' was born.

Unfortunately, it didn't take long before another disaster occurred. Just as we were well on our way to conquering the music scene back in 2003, I went and got hit by a car which brought everything came to a screeching halt. Roland spent the majority of his time perfecting his recording-studio techniques while I recovered in a wheelchair. Whoever said 'life is what happens when you're busy making other plans' hit the nail on the head. Times were tough, we were forced to prioritize and our music got pushed to the back burner for a long time. So long, in fact, we sort of forgot how to do it.

I guess we needed a reminder of why we ever started making music together in the first place. That reminder turned out to be a little slice of paradise on Earth called Orcas Island. From the very first moment we stepped on 'The Rock', it's been our home away from home and our geological muse, so to speak. We met Gene, the third member of the group, who completes our music in a way no other musician could. For us, Orcas is synonymous with making music, and the bulk of our new material was - and probably will be - written there.

Not long after we discovered the most motivational place on Earth, we found another source of inspiration, possibly even more powerful than any other: our children. We had our daughter Mia in 2006 and our son Bram in 2008, who teach us daily to live in the here and now, and to laugh. I mean really laugh. And to make music. Armed with perpetual sources of inspiration, love and skill, Roland and I re-introduced ourselves in 2011 as 'This is lizzard'. This year alone, we managed to record, produce and release two albums! Finally.

I'm not a black-and-white-minded kind of person, but I do think there are basically two types of musicians. There are those who make music with the purpose of scoring a hit, going viral, becoming rich and famous (even if it is for five minutes), and then there are those who make music because they simply can't not make music. We started out in that first category, but now I place myself and Roland firmly in the latter with all my heart and soul.

Sure, we'd like everyone in the world to hear our music (which is why we started our crowd-funding project on Sponsume), and yeah, we'd like to be able to pay our bills like any other struggling independent musician, but our ultimate goal lies in composing and executing the song. Just the song. When the song is done, so are we. On to the next.

There are so many reasons to write a song, and we've got a whole lot of songs brewing in us yet, just yearning to come out.

I can't wait to hear them.

So here's to the good things that have come from the years before us, and to the anticipation of the good things yet to come in the years ahead.

Wishing you love and music in 2012, from the bottoms of our hearts.
Lizanne and Roland
This is lizzard


p.s. The new EP 'The Orcas Sessions' is on sale till the end of the year on bandcamp - that's all 6 MP3s + artwork + lyrics + Christmas in Summertime video for only $2.99! Use the code 'tosmas' at checkout and enjoy!

The Challenge

Nobody ever said raising kids would be easy. But what makes child-rearing even tougher is when you have a passion you just can't deny.

My passion is music.
My life is my kids.
How to combine the two? That's the challenge I face every day.

Last night is a good example of why rock 'n' roll and kids don't always mix. Roland (my other half in love, life and music) and I participated in an 'open mic' session on Orcas Island, where we're staying and promoting the new album. We make a point of going as often as we can, or in other words, when we can afford a babysitter. We played and jammed and strengthened our relationships with some of the fine musicians on the island, and by the time we crawled into bed, it was going on 2am.

Kids don't give a hoot about what time their parents goes to bed. As often as I explain to them how tired mama is, they have an agenda that clearly takes priority over mine. Even going to the bathroom is something I can do only under their close supervision. At 7am, it's time to color, play games, read stories and eat at least three bowls of Cheerios. Fortunately, I am so trained in these activities that I can perform them even in a zombie-like state without them even noticing. I mean, I have yet to put coffee in the Cheerios instead of milk, for example.  

But a good night making music outweighs the discomfort of a little sleep deprivation any day.

Rehearsing is another story. Our kids are musical, which is no surprise since they've been hearing it since they were in the womb. When we make music, they see it as an invitation to make music too, which is awesome, but again, a challenge. Recently, when Roland and I wanted to go through some tunes before a gig and test some PA gear, the kids leapt on the opportunity to join in. My son decided the microphone was his and no one else's ever, and seeing that sharing is still a foreign concept to him, there was simply no way I was going to get a turn to sing in it.

Assuming a three and a four-and-a-half year old will simply sit there and listen for an extended period of time while we practice is a huge mistake, one that most certainly leads to frustration and dismay. So a serious rehearsal can really only take place in one situation: a gig.

When we have a gig, it means the kids will be in the very loving, capable hands of someone else: preferably Grandma and Grandpa, but otherwise, a very awesome babysitter. Roland has his hands free to actually play the guitar, I don't have to share the mic with a three-year-old, and no one needs their nose wiped or help going to the potty.

It comes down to this: I wouldn't change being a Mom for anything, but I'm a singer too. Last night, I love my kids, but I had to sing. Right now, I love my music, but I have to go play Barbies.