Brad's History In Music
"When my music was taken away from me, so was my ability to love."
>B. Chapline<
Sep 2023
>B. Chapline<
Sep 2023
I was just six years old in the late 1950's when I began singing. I would be sitting with my grandfather in his music room. He was both a pianist and a composer.
My grandpappy asked me during one of our private sessions if I liked the sound of my voice. I replied, "Yes".
Then grandpa said, "I'm going to record you (it was on magnetic tape), and when you hear yourself, I don't want you to get all embarrassed because your voice sounds completely different." I said, "Okay grandpa."
But, when he played my voice back, it sounded all the same to me. Grandpa looked stunned. He then said, "Boy, you have one heck of a gift. Very few people ever have this ability."
I was still confused. My grandpappy then put everything in perspective. He asked if I had ever heard a person sing that sounded horrible, but thought they sounded great. I replied, "Yes, my brother. He was listening to the radio in our bedroom and decided to sing along momentarily with a soft rock-n-roll song. He sounded so creepy, that it made me scream. It was very much like a fingernail running down a chalkboard."
My parents came running into our room as if something terrible had happened. Well, it did. My father then told my brother to sing a few lines. I put my hands over my ears. When my brother sang, I saw both my mother and father cringe. But, my brother thought he sounded wonderful. Thankfully, I never heard my brother ever sing again. I believe my father had put a ban on that.
In the coming years, my grandfather told me, "Without diversity in your voice, even your best songs will at some point become monotonous."
Thanks to grandpa, I practiced a variety of at home vocal exercises. My grandpa was like my voice coach. Next, I really concentrated on emulating voices that I liked.
Besides my own natural voice, I became quite proficient in mimicking the voices of Frank Sinatra, "Tennessee" Ernie Ford, Louie "Satchmo" Armstrong, Jimmy Durante. and a host of others.
It took me over fifty years, but I finally recorded four albums as the "Many Voice Man".
My grandpappy asked me during one of our private sessions if I liked the sound of my voice. I replied, "Yes".
Then grandpa said, "I'm going to record you (it was on magnetic tape), and when you hear yourself, I don't want you to get all embarrassed because your voice sounds completely different." I said, "Okay grandpa."
But, when he played my voice back, it sounded all the same to me. Grandpa looked stunned. He then said, "Boy, you have one heck of a gift. Very few people ever have this ability."
I was still confused. My grandpappy then put everything in perspective. He asked if I had ever heard a person sing that sounded horrible, but thought they sounded great. I replied, "Yes, my brother. He was listening to the radio in our bedroom and decided to sing along momentarily with a soft rock-n-roll song. He sounded so creepy, that it made me scream. It was very much like a fingernail running down a chalkboard."
My parents came running into our room as if something terrible had happened. Well, it did. My father then told my brother to sing a few lines. I put my hands over my ears. When my brother sang, I saw both my mother and father cringe. But, my brother thought he sounded wonderful. Thankfully, I never heard my brother ever sing again. I believe my father had put a ban on that.
In the coming years, my grandfather told me, "Without diversity in your voice, even your best songs will at some point become monotonous."
Thanks to grandpa, I practiced a variety of at home vocal exercises. My grandpa was like my voice coach. Next, I really concentrated on emulating voices that I liked.
Besides my own natural voice, I became quite proficient in mimicking the voices of Frank Sinatra, "Tennessee" Ernie Ford, Louie "Satchmo" Armstrong, Jimmy Durante. and a host of others.
It took me over fifty years, but I finally recorded four albums as the "Many Voice Man".
Nearing the age of seventy years here in 2023, the memory trail back to my beginning days of singing is a long journey.
Just a wee bairn, I fell in love with Louie "Satchmo" Armstrong's music. When I found out that Louie would be in concert at a local night spot in Baltimore City, I ran away from my home, in the suburbs, by boarding several transit buses that took me into the inner-city. With no money, twice, I snuck into the concert hall and was removed by security. The third time I got caught, backstage, I put up a fight. I was lucky enough to have attracted Louie's attention. I ran to him for protection. I was crying. But then, almost immediately, I dried those tears and began singing "a cappella", just like Louie. He was stunned. Louie then told his security staff that I would be his special guest for his show. He told his security staff to make contact with my parents, in that, I was safe, and they would bring me home after his show. During Louie's concert, I sat on a stool, backstage, just off to to the side where he was singing his greatest hits. It was a thrill of a lifetime.
My grandpappy was a much different person than Louie. He was an absolute "loner musician". So, in time, because of an occurrence, I decided to follow directly in my grandfather's path. I had been selected in my teen years in a lead singer role, and then a few days before that show, I was removed by the producer due to a violation of his personal etiquette standards.
For the next three decades, when it came to my singing, I became a hikikomori, of sorts.
But then, as time wore the pain off, but not the memory of that heartbreak, the "Juke-8" karaoke system was born. It provided, in a nightclub setting, any singer who wanted to take to the stage with backup music that would provide both a clear and powerful sound. This, I thought, hopefully, would be the beginning of the end of live bands, orchestras, and political power in music. I also believed this was a new beginning for me in singing. I was excited at the potential in having a fresh start.
Karaoke in Las Vegas became a stepping stone for just a few singers. I happened to be lucky enough to be one of them. I performed live on Fox network at the Union Plaza Concert Hall in downtown Las Vegas. I also performed at the Yellow Rose Banquet Hall inside the Texas Station Casino. But, my best performance was at the Main Street Station Ball Room, also located in downtown Las Vegas, where I sang a bit of opera and a long time Broadway musical hit. I also performed a variety of my music on stage for several years at the Stardust Hotel Casino on the Las Vegas Strip.
While I had ample opportunities to perform with the stars, such as, Janet Jackson, for example, I chose a different path. I wanted to build my own recording studio in my home, and produce at least one album. I also wanted to do live shows in which I would produce myself. It would take me the next seven years to do so before I was ready to create my first of four albums and perform my live shows.
But, I had along the way major stumbling blocks. I wanted to streamline my system in having the capability of not only being mobile, but also a system easy enough for me alone to transport to live show destinations. I failed time and again, but, I refused to give up until I got it right.
And then, I got a work related toxic smoke inhalation. The intake of the fumes was so severe, my doctors told me that besides never singing again, I most likely would not live past the year of 2007. But, they were so wrong. With my self-therapies, I recovered enough to perform.
My most memorable live show was at a seniors retirement home in North Las Vegas, Nevada. I would be singing the voice of Frank Sinatra.
The seniors were loving my Sinatra Greatest Hits show. The recreation room was standing room only.
Singing the song, "It Was A Very Good Year" brought one elderly woman to tears. I noticed her bawling her eyes out in the front row while I was singing this particular song. At its conclusion I walked over to her. I asked if she was okay. She grabbed my hand, and held it like a vice. She said, "You just keep singing Frankie's music until you can't sing anymore. My husband and I were married for over seventy years. We were huge Sinatra fans. My husband just died several months ago."
And then, several songs later, I was singing Frank's mega hit of the 1960's, "That's Life". I glanced to the back of the recreation hall where there was a commotion taking place. I continued to sing. However, I saw a ninety-eight year old lady jumping out of her wheelchair. Security was repeatedly restraining her, but it wasn't working. She loved that song, (That's Life) so much it drove her into a complete frenzy.
My albums are laced with not only wonderful memories, but also, many roadblocks that I overcame. Here are my albums:
https://www.bradleychapline.com/brad-chaplines-1-album-the-blue-eyed-soul.html
https://www.bradleychapline.com/brads-world-of-beautiful-music.html
https://www.bradleychapline.com/brads-sentimental-sing-along.html
https://www.bradleychapline.com/brad-chaplines-wildwood.html
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