Erika Rodin, 2020

March 14, 2020.

A notice from the choir’s website pops up on my mobile. Due to prevailing circumstances, the next two rehearsals are canceled and everyone is expected to practice choreography and singing at home.

March 24, 2020.

Another message from the choir’s website. All rehearsals up to and including April 14th are at a distance, first warm-ups via Facebook and then everyone is on their own. The trip to the US, where the choir should have been performing its winning set as the reigning world champions in female barbershop, is canceled.

April 11, 2020.

Rehearsals moved to Zoom. The conductor has audio enabled. I stand in my apartment and sing in silence.

This is my WorldJam story.

I’m not a professional musician. It’s not something I make a living from. I sing in a choir with 120 other women. We have won the World Championship in Female Barbershop, but it is not something that generates income. Therefore, it feels strange to try to explain how the overnight death of cultural life has affected me, and how I found the WorldJam, when the lives of others have been more affected. In Sweden, we have not had a lockdown in the same way the rest of the world. As a teacher, I’ve continued to take the subway to work and have been around hundreds of pupils doing what pupils do; walking around in big groups clinging on to each other. Nevertheless, cultural life has, undeniably, been erased here as well.

When I started singing in the Rönninge Show Chorus, it became the evening where my life could be put on pause. Four hours where all my attention was on song, joy and energy. Of course, with an eternal nagging about keeping the tempo, singing in sync, being in tune and pronouncing oh, ooh and uh in the right way. Sometimes, we could sing the same four bars for hours. But it didn’t matter to me, because the music gave me energy. Energy to endure the rest of the week. Energy to meet my pupils with a smile no matter how they behaved. Energy to cope with life.

When the choir then had to move its rehearsals from the school gymnasium to Facebook and then Zoom, so much disappeared. The choir is definitely due praise because, despite these challenges, not a single rehearsal has been cancelled during the spring. Instead, the leadership has explored and tested how we can have digital rehearsals, because the important thing is to continue to sing, to continue to keep our instrument alive. However, I would be lying if I said it was the same as when we sang together. Difficulties with motivation. Difficulties with energy. Difficulties with everything.

I realized I needed to find a new way to do music. My choir buddy, Laura, had been promoting the WorldJam on social media for a long time and I had listened in during several Saturdays. But how could I join WorldJam? I – who had never jammed or played in bands. Who had no experience or knowledge. I did not fit in there.

It took five or six weeks before I finally dared to ask Laura for help getting started with Jamulus. Step one was to buy equipment. I went to the music store and asked the first employee for help. My knowledge of microphones and audio boxes was, and still is, close to zero. I tried to explain what I was going to do and that I would rather not have poor quality equipment but, at the same time, I was on a budget

When I got home, I literally sat in front of my computer and cried after a couple of hours because the computer and the audio box did not ‘agree’ well enough. At first the computer did not want to find the microphone. Then there was no sound in the headphones. Then there was a strange background noise as I sang. I did not have headphones with the right socket for the audio box, so I tried to use a USB-headset for audio-out and the microphone for audio-in. My computer did not like that and I had to reinstall my Scarlett whenever the computer panicked due the number of audio devices. In the end, I had to visit the music store again to buy a pair of headphones with the right socket.

Another week went by while I was trying to get my equipment in place. At the same time, I struggled with my fears and skepticism. Even if I made everything work – why would anyone want to jam with me when they could jam with the other singers?

At that time, WorldJam had reached number 17 and would have an 80s theme, which I was very grateful for because it became easier to find songs. After listening through countless lists, I got hooked on Footloose. I sat for a long time in front of the website with the mouse pointer on ‘add song’ with the same thoughts running around in my mind over and over. What if no one signed up? Or even worse – what if they signed up and then dropped out?

I should not have worried. People whom I had never met or talked to signed up for the song and we found a day to rehearse. But, one night in the chat someone asked if anyone was free for a spontaneous rehearsal and, unexpectedly, everyone was. I panicked. I could sing along to the song when I listened to the original, but I had definitely not rehearsed enough to know it for sure.

It went to hell. First of all, I barely heard myself in the headphones and no one else heard me very well either. Everyone told me to raise the gain but it was at max. No one understood why the microphone was so low. (Why didn’t I buy the most expensive one?) A few days later it turned out that I had accidentally pushed a lever on the microphone that changed the volume settings. Secondly, we ran on a server in London and the latency to Sweden always made me a microsecond behind. At first, I did not hear it but when the sound in the headphones was finally fixed, it was like a slap in the face. “This will never work,” I thought.

But shame on the ones who give up! Even though I wanted to bury myself underground, the others in the group were the most angelic people I have ever encountered. They did not know me and yet they gave me love, encouragement and energy. They gave me tips on how I could work with latency instead of against it; how I could install programs to add effects to the microphone, and some mic technique.

During the week, I used to log in to Jamulus and find an empty server to practise with the latency. Sometimes a poor soul popped in who could hear a few seconds of my lone voice but my headphones were full of background music. It also gave me many opportunities to listen to my voice through headphones and get used to how I sound.

My first appearance went well. When I look at it in retrospect, I cannot help but smile. It’s so obvious I’m nervous. I see it in my body language and I hear it in my voice. The fact that I also jump up and down like a crazy person to feel the pulse and not fall behind due to latency does not make it better. But I have come to the conclusion that it does not matter, because I dared to do it and it went well. I was even so happy that I bit off more than I could chew the following week – and almost stopped completely because I was so dissatisfied with my second appearance. I lay in my bed and imagined my performance over and over again. Every time it went a bit more out of tune until I just decided, “That’s it! I’m not gonna do it again.”

The next day, and this is true, I saw a movie where someone said, “You have to be brave to become good.” So, I decided to be brave and focus on that. When I look at my third appearance, I believe the change can be seen and heard. Even though we started in the wrong key on one of the songs, I still have an aura of peacefulness around me and have somehow accepted that whatever happens, happens. Because the point is to create music with others. To be able to do what musicians love and live for.

In addition to the Saturday shows, I was also introduced to the impromptu “jam sessions” in Jamulus, where musicians log in and find themselves on the same server as others and start playing. That’s probably the best thing. In the beginning I mostly sat, listened, and enjoyed how good it was even though it was improvised. Sometimes I sang along but muted my microphone. When people asked what I wanted to sing, my nerves gripped me and I did not know what to answer. The truth was that I had no idea what songs I knew. How would I know when I’ve never jammed before?

For me, WorldJam has not only given me the opportunity to create music again, it has also given me the opportunity to develop and explore my voice. I went from never having played in a band or jammed with other musicians, to quickly having a small list of songs that I can pick up when people ask me which song I want to sing. I now have belief in myself that I can if I want to. I have got to know people from all over the world who have all in one way or another helped and supported me on my musical journey. People I never want to lose. People I want to keep jamming with no matter what happens in reality.

I now truly understand why people play in bands. When everything ‘goes back to normal’ I wonder how I will cope. Will I be left alone in Jamulus? Will I find musicians in Stockholm to play with? Regardless, Jamulus has opened a new world for me, a world I do not intend to leave.

I could write another essay on how much the people I’ve met mean to me and how they’ve changed my life but, for now, I shall pause…and log onto Jamulus.