WWhen I saw the email from my neighbor asking if I wanted to audition to sing in the rock band he was playing in, my body froze at the thought. My mind began to formulate the “thanks, but no thanks” reflex. I believed: You haven’t sung in years. You are old.
As a young woman in the mid-1950s, I was resigning myself to this invisibility we were told was coming to us. I still hide my gray hair under various shades of red, but I’ve swapped out my old fashions for hoodies, t-shirts, and jeans. I stayed home more and took up less space overall.
But as I thought about this invitation, I remembered eight months ago, when I hit my skull on the driveway after I fell while walking an anxious rescue dog. How lucky I was that I only had a mild concussion. A bolder part of me moved. You may be olderI believed. But you’re not getting younger. I said “yes” and hit “submit.”
I’ve wanted to sing in a rock band ever since I saw Suzi Quatro on Countdown when I was eight years old. By puberty, my performance dreams seemed less realistic. Instead, I became a music journalist for several years.
While I dabbled in singing throughout my 30s and 40s, in karaoke and amateur shows, I never sang with a live band. When I joined The LangLangs, I was still receiving physical therapy for dizziness and balance issues after the concussion, but I was determined, so I returned to singing and karaoke lessons to hone my vocal and performance skills. She fumbled around rehearsing the band’s mix of garage rock, originals and new wave songs, sharing vocals with the lead guitarist.
I have what my singing teacher calls a soft voice, which makes it more difficult to hear me on live guitars and drums than on a backing track. Through working with her, I learned that your voice is more than just the sound you make with your vocal cords – it is an instrument that covers the entire body. Proper vocal technique helps me project my voice more, and focusing on my posture and breathing can alleviate chronic back pain caused by scoliosis.
After the head injury, I noticed my memory diminishing even more. More missing words; More “Why did you come into this room?” My neurologist wasn’t concerned. I was thrilled when she told me I was in a band, and she said, “Your mind is like a teenager – it needs excitement.” Her analogy prompted me to look for studies on the impact of music and singing on concussion recovery and brain health in aging. I found a lot.
There is evidence that continuing to play music or sing later in life improves the executive function of the brain, including skills such as planning and memory. The social benefits of singing in groups or choirs can boost brain health and Reducing the stress hormone cortisol. Music therapy has been shown to help with brain injury rehabilitation as well. He – she Promotes neuroplasticity and protects against brain atrophy and cognitive impairment. Science proves the saying ‘music keeps you young’, and with dementia being the leading cause of death among Australian women, I will keep singing for as long as I can.
After seven months of fortnightly rehearsals, I played my first gig with the band at Moshpit in Sydney. Stepping up to the low stage, I grabbed the microphone stand and held on to steady myself from the tension. My other arm was dangling, limp, at my side. I looked out at the crowd in the dark, smiled and waited for my cue to start singing our cover of The Motels song, Total Control. I hit the high notes fairly well, and swayed on the sustained notes. For Blondie’s song Rip Her to Shreds, she allowed for more personality with eye rolls, frowns, and hand gestures to match the biting lyrics. At one point, I turned to look at my bandmates, looked into their eyes, and also noticed the energy flowing between us. As corny as it sounds, it was electric.
Being socially anxious and pushing 151cm, I hardly scream ‘front woman’. I wear comfortable shoes on stage, and my dance moves can make my back weak. But when I see older women fronting bands in the Sydney music scene, I feel part of a community and it inspires me to stay active. I look to the music stars of my youth who still play it live: Quatro and Debbie Harry in their 70s, Garbage’s Shirley Manson in her 50s. I’ll never be as great as them, but with seven concerts under my belt, I’m motivated to keep going – for both creative connections and my mental health.
Sometimes I get stage fright, forget the lyrics, and hear some notes. Sometimes I get good at it. But it’s not about perfection. It’s about the encouragement and camaraderie from my bandmates, and the joy of making music that makes people dance.