Aleyce Simmonds encourages aspiring artists to remember its “100% OK to be your own person. To run your own race and not to compromise on that for anyone.”

 This piece is housed on the entertainment website Music Love – a platform for women, by women and about women in music.

Aleyce Simmonds has the sort of success story which inspires young performers everywhere. During her 11 years in the music industry she has distinguished herself as both a singer and songwriter in the thriving Australian country music scene, earning multiple Golden Guitar awards for her quintessentially personal work. Yet it is her status as a completely independent artist which has arguably defined her career and made her an inspiration for young women trying to make a name for themselves by pursuing their dreams. By her own admission it was not Aleyce’s choice initially to go it alone, as she first secured a major record deal with industry giant Sony Music. But it was the severance of that deal which forced Aleyce to utilise the sort of personal determination which has come to define her life as a wholly independent artist. 

“I had to learn fairly quickly how to do everything myself [after I] lost my manager and booking agent. Now I don’t think I could ever be anything other than Independent. I’m too Independent! I absolutely love being able to have all creative control and send the messages that I 100% want to send out. I also love not having to rely on others.” 

Aleyce was rewarded for her persistence, not to mention her remarkable talent, when she was named the Australian Independent Artist of the Year in 2015 before being awarded the APRA Country Work of the Year Award earlier this year for her song Greatest Companion, inspired by her on-air work with radio presenter Luke Bona. The track was lifted from the Bonus Edition of Aleyce’s second album Believe, available now. 

Having to orchestrate her own career has made the 30 year old particularly passionate when it comes to supporting new talent, particularly young female country performers like herself. Emerging artists like Tori Forsyth, who supported Aleyce on her recent tour, have benefited from her support and guidance. 

Music has often been seen as a creative way to bear one’s soul and that has certainly been the case for Aleyce, who has become known for her incredibly personal lyrics. This is perhaps most evident with her standout and heartfelt 2016 single Defeated, which was inspired by her own experiences with domestic violence. The raw emotion displayed in the song was evident throughout her third album, More Than Meets The Eye. The album resonated deeply with audiences who pushed it to #25 on the Australian Album Chart. Aleyce used the attention the album and particularly its single created to raise awareness for others with similar experiences. $5 from every pre-order sale of the album was donated to the Tamworth Family Support Service, of which Aleyce is an ambassador. 

Aleyce opened up to Music Love about her growing success as an independent artist, laying herself bare through her lyrics and her passion to help others achieve their dreams. 

“As you can probably tell, I’m a pretty honest person. (And that gets me into trouble a lot!) I always wonder before putting a song out, whether I’m brave enough to expose these pieces of me. It sometimes frightens the hell out of me. But – if I’ve experienced or felt something, then so have other people out there and maybe my little song can help even one person to feel less alone.”

-           

-          ALEYCE SIMMONDS, SINGER/SONGWRITER, ON HER SINGLE ‘DEFEATED’

 

Aleyce Simmonds on what music means to her

Music comes second only to my family. It consumes my thoughts most of the time and it moves me (when it’s good!!) in a way that nothing else does. 

On her APRA Country Work of The Year Award, an impressive feat for a wholly independent female artist

“I just got teary thinking about how I felt that night. I didn’t think I would have won that award in a million years. When I did, I just sat there until my mum shoved me to let me know that it was in fact my name that they read out. I’ve worked so hard for so long and made so many sacrifices and it almost felt like the slate was clean and everything was suddenly worth it.” 

On the support she needs to succeed as an independent artist

“We really do [need support]. More so than signed artists, really. It’s a really hard slog out there and when you’re 100% funding it yourself too, it near breaks you at times. My family have backed me from the beginning. Despite the occasional pleas for me to get a ‘real job’ to make life easier, I know that they would tell me that I had no choice but to keep going if I told them I was giving up. My closest friends of course also and Checked Label Services who have put my music in stores since my first album.” 

On her vocal suppoer for emerging artists including Tori Forsyth

I’m so, so passionate about Australian Country Music and about Tamworth, country music capital. I can absolutely, whole-heartedly say that I have and will do anything I can to support and build our industry and get our great artists out there. When I heard Tori for the first time, I knew that I had to help her. She would have been heard eventually by the right people and was always going to be a star. But she had such an impact upon me that I needed for the world to experience the same thing. IMMEDIATELY!! 

On becoming an ambassador for Tamworth Family Support Service

I was asked to be the ambassador and I was absolutely honoured. I was doing a bit of work in the community for under privileged families, cooking for them and things (which my family always thought was so funny because I couldn’t afford to feed myself half the time…) and it was just coincidental timing to be asked to be the ambassador I guess. The organisation does such amazing work in the community. 

On what more than a decade in the music industry has taught her about herself and being an artist

It’s taught me that I’m the most stubborn person I know, slightly idiotic… haha. But most of all, it’s taught me that you can achieve anything if you work harder than you thought possible and that you need to be strong-willed and thick skinned to be an artist. 

On her favourite women in music and what she’s learnt from them

Lyn Bowtell is one of the first singer/songwriters that I truly fell in love with. I heard her for the first time and felt my chest cave in. And then, I got to know her heart and then her music hurt my chest (in the best, best, best way) even more so. I guess she taught me that you can be a technically good singer and have people like listening to you (I was classically trained) but once you put your heart and honesty into your music, you can affect people in the most deep, incredible, life-changing way.

And, Tori Forsyth. It’s no secret to anyone that I think Tori is hands down, the most talented singer/songwriter that I’ve ever heard but something that really inspires me is her work ethic and determination. She was pushed down a lot as a kid and told she wouldn’t amount to anything because school wasn’t her thing, etc. But she kept on pushing on, believing in herself until she found the place that she belonged. And now – she owns that place and is going to put all those others in their places!!! It actually brings on automatic tears when I think about it. I can’t wait for you all to hear her debut album. That thought brings on the tears too. Tori reminds me every day that it’s 100% OK to be your own person. To run your own race and not to compromise on that for anyone.

crUWSible Editorial - #RememberTheBird

As one of the editors of the student newspaper crUWSible (University of Western Sydney), it is my job to ensure that the paper remains as impartial and unbiased as possible. When submitting stories we must endeavour to provide both sides of an argument and give everyone an equal chance to have their say.
However, we cannot ourselves always be unbiased and sometimes we just boil over. When the university suddenly announced that they would be changing the name of the university and the signature 'blue bird' logo, hundreds of students were horrified, me amongst them. When I was offered the chance to make my opinions public, I jumped at the chance.
Here is my editorial for the soon-to-be-renamed student newspaper:



By Fenella Henderson-Zuel, crUWSible editor:

There’s no point denying it now. Finally, at 25 years of age, the University of Western Sydney has reached its rebellious phase. Like a teenager cutting their hair short, dying it blue and getting a tongue piercing, UWS is shedding its links with the past and preparing to emerge as a new entity.

Well, isn't that wizard.

Gone is the name and the catchy acronym that rolled so easily off the tongue and inspired the creators of crUWSible to name a magazine with a pun they could be proud of. This behavior was criminal enough. But what really got people hot and bothered was the destruction of the most recognizable symbol of UWS – the blue bird.

Journalists questioned the change, cartoonists mocked it and students were incensed.A call to arms was put out on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, which for many students was the first time they’d heard about the proposal. A ‘#SaveTheBird’ change.org petition begged the university to abandon the proposed rebranding and to ‘scrap the hideous proposed design for the University logo’, but the 5,000 signatures needed were not achieved.

I’ll tell you now that decisions just don’t get made that quickly. It is virtually impossible to draft a proposal, pitch it to a board, make changes, receive feedback and roll-out a change in a few weeks. Especially if that change involves actually manufacturing a hard copy of something. It just doesn't happen. So how did they do it so fast? The answer is simple. They didn't wait for student approval. When we did some digging, we found that the plans for the uniform change had been drafted three years earlier. The designs had been approved within six months and prototypes constructed within a year. By the time the second student survey was conducted, there were already warehouses full of new uniforms just waiting to be distributed to stores. We had been betrayed.

The name we may eventually forgive, but we’ll never forget the bird. We’ll never forgive the changes we have to make and we’ll never accept the Harvard-wannabe shield. Here at crUWSible we have our own selfish anger, as crUWSible’s days are also numbered. By August 31st, we will no longer be allowed to use ‘UWS’ in any official context and crWSUible just doesn't work as well. Or at all, actually. So what do we call ourselves now? Well, that’s what we’re asking you. We’re fresh out of ideas (plus we’re just being stubborn). What do you think we should be called? Let us know your suggestions for the new name for our beloved student newspaper.

For many, the proposal signified a change in values. Since its conception the University of Western Sydney has been more than just a place of learning – it has been a beacon of opportunity. Accessible to all, it promised better lives for those in surrounding communities who had made their way through hardship and was symbolic of a changing Western Sydney. That’s what The University of Western Sydney meant to people. But what does Western Sydney University mean? It’s a relatively small yet significant change, the dropping of a simple two letter word changing an entire image. Many have derided the similarities between the new red ‘shield’ logo and the Harvard University equivalent. As much as we may admire the ambition, one of the greatest strengths of UWS is its individuality. We don’t have decades of history like Sydney Uni or a larger-than-life reputation like UTS. We’re the quiet achiever, the slow but steady uni offering chances to anyone and everyone. We’re the people’s uni.

However, the greatest blow the changing logo dealt was the loss of trust felt by students towards administrators. It’s one thing to completely change the image of an establishment – it’s quite another to do it without consulting so many of those involved.

In my senior year of high school, the P&C Committee had a complete brain spasm and decided to change the uniform students had proudly worn for over 40 years. Again, that was bad enough. What was worse was that they made us students feel like we mattered before everything crashing down. We were asked to vote on the change, twice. Each time students rushed towards each other demanding to know whether anyone had been crazy enough to vote ‘Yes’ to the change. No-one ever did. And yet, just a few short weeks later, there we all were trying on our excessively itchy and embarrassingly see-through new uniforms.

Now, UWS students are feeling the same pain. Students returning to campus for the spring semester were suddenly confronted with a garbled rumour, which many disregarded. Then suddenly there was a leaked, fuzzy image of simple red shield and a lecturer confirmed the fear: the bird was down. Students were outraged at not being consulted or seemingly even considered. A hasty text message was sent by administrators to try to calm the storm by inviting students to ‘preview’ the brand changes at Werrington campus. But even when attempting to placate their audience the university failed – the message was only sent to those who had registered the mobile phone numbers previously, and not to all students via email. By the time everyone else found out, it was already too late.

Just like the uniforms at my high school, a new logo roll-out cannot be planned and executed with any sort of speed. This change was pitched, planned and the implementation set in motion before the first returning students set foot on campus.

We couldn't even attend the bird’s funeral.

So what do we do now? Well, we complain for a while. Years even, go right ahead. I know I’ll still be whining about this years from now, and I'm one of the lucky ones who only has to live with it for a few more months. For those who have a long way to go before they leave, I predict many garbled mix-ups and stubborn refusals before the new name can operate smoothly.

And never, ever, #ForgetTheBird.

Parental Advisors - Fenella’s Story (via Cool Accidents)

I was about ten years old when I discovered that not every household played The Beatles and ABBA Gold on a regular basis. In fact, most families I knew didn’t.

I was shocked.

For a child who had grown up with wall-to-wall Beatles and Beach Boys, the idea that other kids were being introduced to Bon Jovi and Duran Duran just did not compute. Although both those groups were present in the family record collection, I don’t remember them being played until I was a little older. I can only guess that my parents waited until my music tastes had been sufficiently moulded and I was safe from musical acts which met with less approval (Mötley Crüe and Foreigner, I’m looking at you). From an early age I would have music played to me and I’d be asked who I was listening to. If I heard male harmonies, I’d figure Beatles or Beach Boys would be a good guess (it was rarely Beach Boys - took me a ridiculously long time to learn the difference).

When I was in my second or third year of primary school my dad made me my first mixtape (ok, it was a CD, but close enough), which was full of songs I had been introduced to and loved over the past year. ‘Fenella’s Favourites’ would become an eagerly anticipated annual gift and makes it easy for me to track my music tastes over the years. The first CD was full of artists my parents played – The Monkees, The Beach Boys, Kasey Chambers, The Beatles, Felicity Urquhart and Tania Kernaghan. A LOT of Tania Kernaghan. Having met her at a young age, she was my first fangirl experience and I proudly collected her albums before reaching my teens and deciding I no longer liked country music (a lack of cool factor will do that to a girl).

Almost all my cds are at least eight years old. A true child of my generation, most of my music collection is now digital, so a cursory glance at the cd shelves in my room could give someone the wrong impression (the dozen or so Saddle Club albums were retired with Tania a fair few years ago but beloved Britney Spears, Hilary Duff andHigh School Musical soundtracks still give me away).

The music dynamics in my home have shifted slightly over the years but the basic rules of control have stayed largely the same. Although my music choices have increased their airplay as I developed my own musical tastes, the majority of the music played in the house has been chosen by my father and that has heavily influenced my musical tastes. If he likes it, it gets a lot of airtime, from countless Beatles albums (including the various remastered copies that have gradually been released) to Hot Since ’82 (‘Restless’ is a notable favourite).

At some point, my opinion of my parent’s music changed from wide-eyed fascination to a simmering tween contempt for anything endorsed by ‘old people’ (there are only so many times you can hear your father singing along to Nelly before you associate the music with age and irritation). Luckily for them, my mother’s tastes swung in to save the day. Early exposure to Fountains of Wayne had been accompanied by the suggestion “You don’t need to sing all the words, maybe say ‘I’ve gotta get my self together’ instead”. This had of course resulted in me gleefully singing the correct lyrics as loudly as I dared (The correct word was shit, in case you hadn’t guessed). Like many kids, I had started by listening to the fast, entertaining songs like Stacey’s Mom, Hey Julie and, of course, Bright Future In Sales. As I grew older, sadder tracks like Hackensack were played more as I began to fancy myself as a deep thinker. Denise was for when I realised that wasn’t the case.

This led me to The Beatles’ greatest rival for Favourite Parent-Endorsed Band: The Darkness. My mum decided to chuck me in at the deep end, showing me the video clips for One Way Ticket To Hell and I Believe In A Thing Called Love. It could have gone devastatingly wrong.

It didn’t.

Cut to today and I list The Darkness as one of my all-time favourite bands, beside fellow parent-endorsed (and personal favourite) Belle and Sebastian. Long car trips are no longer complete without my mother and I sitting in the front seat, head-banging and screeching along to I Believe In A Thing Called Love at the tops of our voices, road safety be damned.

http://coolaccidents.tumblr.com/post/116980455016/parental-advisors-fenellas-story

Going Down In History

My first thought when I was recently asked how I would like to be remembered was "That's easy!" 

I'd like to be remembered as kind and clever, funny and successful. Attractive wouldn't hurt, either. I'd like to be remembered for accomplishing something meaningful, whether it be founding a company, helping to achieve world peace or winning an Academy Award. But what about the small things? The more personal things.

 In the grand scheme of things my life is unlikely to make a difference in the world. I can talk and people will listen, tell a joke and make them laugh. I can even help to change the world if I try hard enough. Yet for all that and more I am an ordinary person. History is unlikely to remember my name. Friends and family will remember what I was like and may talk about me from time to time. My children will be extraordinary in their own right but are likely to be as ordinary by global standards as I am. They will tell their children about me and once they are dead and gone my name is unlikely to remain.

Do I really need any more than that?

I think that in our own way we each want to change the world and leave our mark. It would be amazing if our pictures were to be featured in history books so that generations from now we would be remembered as truly exceptional people. And we should strive for that. Go the extra mile to change things for the better, to help people and show that we are worthy of being remembered. Even if we never accomplish anything beyond making people laugh or keeping an orderly household, that's ok. Those are our accomplishments and ours alone. They don't need to be weighed against the success of others'.

So after all that, how would I like to be remembered? Fondly. If only one persons remember me that will be enough, as long as they remember me with love.

She cried for what was and what wasn't
She cried for what she had and what she never would
She cried until her head and her heart ached
But never loud enough to be heard.

An unpleasant milestone

I recently reached an important milestone in any girl's life: I had to make my first breakup phone call.
Technically it wasn't really a break up. I'd only been out with the guy once and although we had had no trouble making conversation over a long dinner it just didn't feel right for me.I'd realised when I met him that he was older than me but managed to convince myself prior to the date that the age difference was only a couple of years. When I found out that the gap was significantly larger than I had previously thought it sealed the deal for me.

He was nice and funny, talked about bands I'd never heard of and we had similar taste when it came to movies and TV. Still, it didn't feel right. I'm not naive. I wasn't expecting a perfect date like in the movies and I don't buy into the whole idea of feeling 'the spark'. But it still didn't feel the way I thought it was 'supposed' to feel. I wasn't comfortable. When he stepped forward I stepped back. When he told me about yet another friend who was getting married I stuffed more food into my mouth so I didn't have to respond. I felt like we were at completely different points in our lives and we were. He has graduated from uni and is now pursuing different strands of his chosen career. I'm still in uni and have no idea where I want to be next week, let alone in a year. He's had previous long-term girlfriends. I've been out with only one other guy and we never progressed beyond holding hands.

The friend who introduced the older guy to me said she thought we'd really hit it off and we did. He was easy to talk to and we had a good time. But that wasn't enough to convince me. When my mother said that the fact we had never been lost for words was a good sign I didn't entirely agree. Easy chatting is definitely a positive but it's not exactly the clincher. I can talk for hours on end with pretty much all my friends. It doesn't mean I want to date my friends.

So when he asked me on a second date the next week, I felt cornered and said yes too quickly. For months I'd been whingeing that so many of my friends had partners but no one was asking me out. Having any guy actually show an interest in me, let alone one I was pretty sure I didn't like in 'that way', absolutely terrified me. I worked myself into such a state that I felt physically sick.

After a long talk with a friend of mine I made the decision I'd been considering for a while. The night before the date I debated how best to break the news that I didn't want to go out with him again in a romantic capacity. After considering and then dismissing the idea of going along to the date and telling him in person I decided to call him the night before instead. I didn't like the idea of meeting him under false pretences. The phone call lasted only one minute and consisted of me explaining the situation and him responding to each phrase with 'ok'. We said our goodbyes and I hung up feeling surprised and more than a little cruel.

Around ten minutes later I received a long text from him thanking me for having the decency to call rather than text and telling me that he meant it when he said that if I ever changed my mind I should give him a call.

Of all the moments that made up our brief acquaintance, it was his final text message that impressed me the most. In a few sentences he showed me more kindness and respect than I felt I deserved and went further towards making me like him than the hours we'd spent talking. I stand by my decision. I'm not ready for a grown-up relationship with a real adult. I still feel very much like a kid and I don't need someone to treat me like a princess. Right now I need to learn who I am and what I like in a guy, whether I'm dating him or just hanging out. I need to meet new and different people; go on dates and maybe even ask someone else out instead of waiting for them to make the first move. And who knows? Maybe I will take up his offer some day. When I'm good and ready.

Homelessness

I see him huddled in the corner between two buildings, sheltered from the wind. He is asleep but not at rest; his face twitches and frowns as he dreams. His thin coat and a layer of newspapers could not possibly keep him warm. No wonder he is having bad dreams.

I wonder who he was. I see him each day, shuffling along on tired feet in worn out boots. He never smiles, never looks up, never makes eye contact. He looks as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders and it is. Of all the people I have seen in life he is the saddest and he is the one who has the most right to be.

Suddenly he stops moving and lies still. Is he dead? I wonder. I wouldn't know what to do if he was. I feel immensely sorry for him. A nameless, sad man lying in an alley, with no one but a passerby to see.

Then he smiles. He is not dead but resting, having finally reached a peaceful state of slumber. I wonder what he is dreaming about. I try to imagine a happy life for him. Maybe he is remembering his daughter's wedding, walking her down the aisle and smiling. He looks old enough to have an adult daughter. Or is that just shadow on his face? In this light and under so much dirt and an overgrown beard he could be anyone, of any age. Does anyone miss him? Does that happily married daughter wonder where he is? I don't know. I hope there is someone out there waiting for him but I will probably never be brave enough to ask.